"exemplified" poems
Maybe there is no me?
Maybe me is just we?
Oversimplified, over-exemplified,
Positioned so that I can't see.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 7:14 AM UTC
Hi. Do you care enough to hear me whine?
I fear that you don’t see me
collecting dust in the dim corner of your room.
And while you stand and stare,
completely absorbed by your own despair,
I remain
ready to serve you
and your meaningless life.
I can clean your room, yet I can’t clean your mind
of the false reality exemplified by your kind.
We are similar though, you and I.
Wasting our time amassing, acquiring, accumulating.
Honestly, we’re mere specks of life,
surrendering to realities constructed by our minds.
Don’t you know that your beloved earthly pleasures
are one and the same as the ******* that I collect?
Hard-earned, elusive, temporal, disposable.
Its laughable how ignorant you are;
consumed by your own subliminal thoughts,
leaving you searching for the remnants of what is and what is not.
Can’t you see the fallacies present in your head?
Gleaming yet blinding, salient yet obscure.
Armed with benevolent promises
that ultimately leave you for dead.
Can’t you see that what you crave
will inevitably **** you down to your grave?
Incessantly coated with wondrous, tempting illusions
that disguise its true nature--garbage.
Garbage. Connect the dots, you fool.
Can’t you see that you and I are one and the same?
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
I
Whispering winds whip the lake's eastern shore.
The towers above stand still,
gazing upon the infinite individuals below,
within the concrete maze; this city speaks to me.
It utters thousand of voices simultaneously.
Some unfamiliar to me,
all keep the labyrinth in mind.
Each voice different,
each voice similar in its journey
to conquer the labyrinth.
I too share the same goal,
but in the labyrinth, most don't know what I know.
II
The river twines around towers
creating the famous "loop."
The river's end irradiated for man,
until we flipped the flow in
labyrinth's past to avert windy shores.
The once river's end, now a beginning.
The labyrinth's bourgeois lie due north,
It's extravagance exemplified by magnificent miles
where whimsy wanderers flaunt status
and to the west and south,
an eternal siren's call resonates for all voices to listen;
urban decay haunts the once prosperous.
III
For only collectively can the labrinth be tamed
and imminent ends for those unworthy.
The lake, the river, its towers and people
shall never be neglected.
For only collectively can the labyrinth be tamed
and this labyrinth is all that I know;
this labyrinth is Chicago.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 1:38 AM UTC
In long lasting fortitude is the fight of the astute.
A lot of effort is made towards the war of the moral.
And a race towards life is the route.
Preparing the endless fit of strength of all.
There is he who is choosing his fate.
Working hard despite all opposers’ bait.
There is he who is choosing life.
Working hard despite all opposers’ strife.
Lost in the dirt, seeking out of the ruse.
Forced towards the light, brighter and rife.
No letting up despite the refuse.
Clean is the proud, and happy, the player of the flute.
A rite of passage for all is the praise of the immortal.
War is the only dispute
Death is not fatal.
The renegade does not enter the gate.
He is stuck outside the city, and left without state.
The renegade does not know his wife.
He is stuck at heart and can’t even play a fife.
In the dirt he is and is with a lot of abuse.
He cannot escape the knife.
Cut, cutting up despite the accuse.
Reality is but the face of cute.
Subjected to falsified doctrine and the immoral.
It is callous and as rotten fruit.
Moxie exists with everyone no matter how small.
Can the one who is happy learn to hate?
Only he or she can solve this debate.
Finally the long absent sky above the Alewife.
Can’t say that I have seen such teeming wildlife...
Swimming in a sea of its Muse.
The lowly continue their sighs
But I do proudly diffuse.
.This plight of mine is hard to toot.
Exemplified by my emphasis on the astral.
With which I dress in an armoured suit.
So my enemies do not mute my oral.
and the skies do tell in high rate,
How esteemed they are on time and ne’er late.
But giving ever virtuous despite
All those dead or dying, without prospect of afterlife.
It is their way to choose:
The dark abyss of guise,
(or) The gentle river of blue
For now I do keep silent, But still I commute,
With those of higher propositions and goal,
So I do instill thyself a deeper root.
In the waterbed truly formal.
Those who truth ‘I do navigate’
and those of lies ‘I do alienate’
At a loss O’ man or mesmerize,
Work harder on thoughts than just plagiarize.
The foes of old are still and sleuth
I show them love and they in lies are baptized
Tradition is there with purpose, don’t misuse.
I see to it the wise stay wise,
For better they will strategize.
And the unwise, wisdom they will pursue.
Giving them their much needed paradise.
And the lost I will use.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:53 AM UTC
I am such
a *******
******
Been fanning the flames
of my flamboyant faggotry
since April 1990
when I strutted from the caverns
of my mother's....
nevermind,
I'm never touching one of those.
My childhood is exemplified
by late-night espionage treks,
sneaking through my sister's side
of our bedroom
maximized by youthful perspective,
each step of mine garnering more
taut gravity than the next,
finally reaching the Holy Grail:
her Barbie collection.
In the fourth grade, I drew
my interpretations of those
beautiful, diamond-infested drag queens
that rained feathers and sequins
upon one drought of an existence,
the adults framing my tolerance
as a smut-stained abomination.
Now people ponder
why I'm so overt
with my gaydom.
Why argue with your
nostalgia-hemmed family friend
over the cultural significance
of the Barbra Streisand Album,
or gladly sit through marathons
of 1980s ****** camp classics?
It's the kid in me.
Something lost for an era
in a washing tub
of middle school torture tactics,
heavy breathing
over hiding something
so natural.
And a few years of that
are **** stifling enough
for this gigantic ******
Apr 29, 2010
Apr 29, 2010 at 10:54 AM UTC
All I saw were wrinkles.
These wrinkles exemplified pain, loss, happiness and content. These wrinkles in his long leathery complexion represented my life; and how every moment is a wrinkle in time. These wrinkles in the old mans face told me where I had been and where I still had to go. I glanced at the old man, pain and sorrow clouded his eyes, which were covered by his snow white hair, which fell gently upon his forehead much like how a feather almost levitates before it hits the ground.
All I saw were wrinkles.
The old man turned slowly towards me, his facade was illuminated by the warm glow of the fire, and he flashed me that all knowing smile of his, which old age could never take away. This radiant smile was a rare sight to see nowadays he seemed to enjoy the company of books rather then the company of people.
All I saw were wrinkles.
The old man was a silent presence. Silent enough to sneak up on me when I used to watch Sunday morning cartoons. Grandpa! I would exclaim, half suprised half content that he was just with me and by my side.
All I saw were wrinkles.
The old man gave me one last sad smile and stood up from the cracked leather sofa.
Where are you going? I asked him.
I never found out.
I never will.
All I saw were wrinkles
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 4:14 PM UTC
If my sexuality consistently gets used
Against me
Then it becomes my weapon
The wisdom that a man's greatest weakness
Is simultaneously his greatest strength
Becomes realized
Reflected in domesticated animals
We give up our instincts
In an environment where the wild
Doesn't belong
After years of suffering
I grab my wand for the first time
Although lifetimes ago I may have done so
This time matters the most
Because it is happening now
I grab my wand and wave it through the air
the journey to learn how to use my Magick power
Enemies draw closer
Only to get blasted down by light
Aum harnessed from my throat
I will use fire to protect my life
Hovering owls in the night
All according to plan
Magic birds witness
The transpiring of balance
Coming to this planet in need of healing
Divine feminine we are here
Mary Magdelene is near
Absolutely have no fear
Lilith is on the sidelines
Visiting dark beings
In human minds
Kali is by her side
Tongue hanging out
***** for fresh heads in her multiple hands
Yemaya stirs in the ocean
She howls, "Just leave me alone!"
As Bolon Ik traverses time away from her twin flame for longer than she can bear
Exposed in a terrifying way
But men cannot Divert their eyes
As The most beautiful women
Exemplified
Turns some into stone,
Others to salt,
Ashes,
And only the righteous of souls -
Deliverance as The Call To Rise
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 12:48 PM UTC
Tufted ethereality, angelism of stock and store
pedestrian...alas, circusy.
Helm of streets bob...our supplicant pulls out
a mile or two of scripture from an enormous
pocket.
Fingers ink-blotted with grime, bent forth striding--
a heedless Beethoven tuned in immaculately.
Array's arrival stunned with scurry...planets of
conveyance pull at their elliptical wiring.
Some rare gigantism to the tenth of powers has
touched everything...all he could do from
going where he's arrived is futile.
From time immemorial, he...at present, its full
possessor!
What convoluted theorem of probability will
forcibly eject him from eureka...from where he's
vaporized his wears...naught...naught!
Some precipice's nudge knew best the wind for
his thought to take to, a majestic soar pealing the
spheres to show them their shape.
Life has exemplified its frugal capacity to him--
simmering creation tucked away for one fine day.
He, to outlive the closing energy that dances him,
an immortal...to be handled with care...with
universal intelligence--be, has let him...loosed.
He's broken the code of things in and of themselves...
he's a thing in and of himself--the Unitative factor erupts.
As the credits of glory pull upward...so he as them.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 12:42 PM UTC
being Polish was never **** it was never a clue for
the sentencing of volleyball team effort... it was never ****
whatever it was... it was never going to be an Irish
bargain of gambling... it was just bad luck...
something akin to Lithuanian, something worth forgetting...
like Indians and the Bangladeshis... like Versailles and Belvederes palaces...
it was worth forgetting... which exemplified the love of
music in western Europe... and where music is
lacking there the poetic expression... well thank you Pink Floyd,
but let us forget Auden... we can all do enough with a sing-along...
but when it comes to canvases of involvement to track
the shoe-lace ties or the cravat tangle readied for a ballet...
well, aren't you the one to tell us that it was just
a calorie intake of veganism:
mark that as a turnip postage... and a
fried potato licked, while she gags on ageing for the
added repertoire of scandal in sandals flicked to represent lapping
tongues and butterfly flicking of what became
flapped toe-curls of synchronisation; and the dipping,
soda baking of a tartar sauerkraut.
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 10:37 PM UTC
She walks with grace and Dignity
Because she knows her savior.
She knows that life's a gift, you see
It shows in her behavior.
She always has an ear to hear,
She thinks before she talks.
But every word she says is wise
I hope my stride will mimic her walk.
For freedom Christ did set us free
She lives this verse out infinitely
I look at her face and don't see her
But the God who conquered death and hurt
You see, her face is like a mirror,
It reflects what she's been staring at.
I look to her but see my savior,
His steadfast love she does not lack.
I say all this because she showed me
Something that can't be taught with words.
My mother's love is the closest thing
To Jesus on this earth.
She loved me when I was young,
and small enough to hold.
She loved me when I woke her up
and didn't do what I was told.
She loved me when I wasn't small
and WAY too big to hold.
She wrapped her arms around me,
And told me I was beautiful.
She loved me when the boys did not,
But told me that they did.
She loved me even when we fought
And my stubborn streak was worse than I thought.
She loved me when I was anxious
to leave the nest she made.
She understood that time would come,
And loved me anyways.
She loves me when my life is crazy,
and I don't get a chance too call.
She loves from across state lines,
In the Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall.
My Mother loves like Jesus does,
her love is unconditional.
I love My mom with all my heart,
and in the deepest depths of my soul.
The only reason I can love,
Is cause she taught me how.
She showed me Christ exemplified,
So I will love my little one like she loves me now.
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 12:31 AM UTC
The Sunni minority were marginalized
Sectarian killings were commonplace
In 2012 alone,
There were more than 1,600 deaths
The interviewer talked to a motorcycle gang
They said they wanted freedom
But some said they missed the way things were
Under Saddam Hussein
Some would trade the freedom they had
For the stability of Hussein's regime
The Shiah cleric
Says there is an assault on Iraq
Exemplified by the copying of corrupt Western culture.
The cleric wanted to eliminate American influence
Of any kind
Checkpoints make getting
Around the city a hassle
Subcultures in Iraq are under attack
Rap, metal, emo, and classical
All are looked down on
Gays are persecuted
The military uses a faulty device
That is supposed to detect bombs
But has been proven not at all effective
The city exists between extremes
There is the religious extreme
And people who want to be westernized
Without understanding what that is
The infrastructure was ruined by the war
Hopefully life will get better
As they continue to rebuild the infrastructuree
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 5:05 AM UTC
A man screams in his sleep.
Her features all aligned into a perfect order
Just because I'm hungry doesn't mean I have to eat.
A low hum
Burring into my mind
Drives me into vicious fits of obsession
She stirs me
I look at her but cannot see her.
I try so hard to drink her in.
Every feature I want to drown in.
The vision is only a drop to a dying thirst
I stare so uncomfortably at her soft skin.
Guilty I lust for her.
She exemplified feminine strength
She stings me with her beauty
And Instills in me a sadness I can't understand
Consciously torn between being a dog and a man.
Stuffed my shame into my belly and moved on.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 7:23 PM UTC
All women have their own beauty,
Whether shown through their Eyes, Voice, Body or Character
It's a beauty that is.
Though most men don't see it
For they do not have the strength to look at real beauty in the face.
For you see, without women,
There is no men.
Yet, we continue to dishonor them.
Every woman is beautiful,
You just need to be courageous and see
A Beauty That Is.
-end-
I no longer feel this fully elucidates what I am trying to portray
Reformed:
All women possess their own individual grandeur.
Whether exemplified by their shimmering eyes, sweet lullaby voice, a curvacious body, or supreme character.
It is a beauty that is.
However, dominantly men refuse to observe of such
Thus, they lack the prudence and discipline to gaze upon profound and genuine beauty.
Effectively, the absence of the woman would entail the demise of man as a kind.
Still, men objectify, debase, dishonor, and even barbarously assault women.
All of whom have their own beauty.
You just need to be courageous and observe,
A Beauty That Is
Sep 12, 2012
Sep 12, 2012 at 3:53 PM UTC
i am a fool for what i
think love should be.
If only i had been a fool
for what it truly is:
love is a melding of minds,
a handshake of like souls
across common boundaries,
an acceptance of static electricity
to complete our circuits.
A spark between fingers.
In the room the women come and go,
wishing they married Michelangelo.
Don't we all, in our ways?
Crazy love will leave you wanting.
True love does not attract until it is bound,
and not to you.
The irony of mating, exemplified.
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 4:03 AM UTC
An intensely timely attempt to right a Ship of State,
The U.S. Constitution, from a Supremacy Court decision,
'Citizen's United', wrought by it's being dragged
Across the Plymouth Rox, that landed on US, 'cause
We didn't land on it, by the tug, the S.S. Tea Party,
And it's ignoble leader, not ebony, but ivory, working
Together in perfect harmony, merx for more to mercs for war,
Amongst the 21 flavors of, in this 'baskin and robbins' of
Supremacy, the united **** of assassins, through the lack
Of 'separation of church and state', demanded in it's
Fallen noble leaves, the Founding Document of this great
Nation, that actual religion of the bi-headed false gods
Of mammon, wealth, avarice, and mollock, extreme violence,
Grinding up seed, exemplified in king george and his ****
Cheney's, along with the republican conspiracies' elite's,
Purposeful non-prevention of the attacks on 9-11 and their
Unnecessary, "unending war on (supposed) terrorism", the
Coup that divided a people, dictating they choose exigency
Over humanity, continually, which set-up the invisible coup
Elections of 11-16, it's installation of Trumpler, etc.,
Not being separated from the state, being sociologically
Programmed into everyone, by the corporate structure's
Convolution's devolutionary direction, undoing Evolution,
Is practiced by almost all behind the masks of supposed:
Christianity, atheism, Hinduism, science, art, Wicca, etc.,
Possessing everybody in that form of self-possession,
And we need to be exorcised from it before we can
Again exercise our responsibility, necessary to again
Realize it's Siamese twin sister, freedom, for the
Intellect can't lead, as the life doesn't follow.
Then illimitable, indivisible you, walking in nature's
Balance giving back to nature's abundance can remember:
Compliance is suicide, we're defiance; if you're not
Taking bullets you're making them; an injustice to any
Is an injustice to all, and if it isn't addressed
Individually, it becomes a global injustice as well;
"Be the change you wish to see in the world", "the root
Of all oppression lies in (supposed) science", Gandhi;
Materialism isn't, abolish scarcity based global fossil fuel
Slavery by using abundant renewable energy, now. reality
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 8:07 PM UTC
Sometimes they are dropped like pennies
On the sidewalk to be
Received by handsome strangers,
An ongoing exchange exemplified
In the little clay bowls besides the tip jar, reading
Take one, leave one.
I've known a few collectors, mostly
Nosy old men who spend stifling afternoons on their groaning porches
Eyeing passersby with
Greed-glazed curiosity and a pair of bifocals, and
Once my brother filled a whole book with all
The state quarters.
Change is heavy and we’re
All afraid we’ll end up with lumpy pockets so heavy
Our pants fall around our ankles so we
Spend it away in vending machines
That carry Coke when we want Pepsi, machines
So full that they spit back quarters.
I know there is no protocol
For that machine that offers nothing, its
Empty coils glaring, winking behind ***** glass but
Your pockets are just so full.
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
Passion coursing throughout my veins like fire
the one piece the dots will never connect
exemplified by the one, the one exception
in any given situation
the flame would still cut like jagged steel
a reminder that there can be only one
even if never touched, always that piece will be taken
if only an image could be yanked through a mirror
tortured pain
will never refrain, never go away
until then
tears never cease when you are yourself, The Devil
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 9:57 PM UTC
I’m a member of so many 21st counter cultures
Of which there are so many we are rendered meaningless
Wait, that’s not right, let me try again
“I choose to ignore this. Cabin in the Woods” He says, The Ostrich Method, head in the sand
And we’re running out of beer, I’m sobering up,
Or rather it was a sobering moment
Just more ammo for these moralists
“Ohh, you’re a drain on society” – buzzkillers the lot of ‘em
Probably religiouses with their ‘God’ and whatnot
“Thou shalt not get ********* or whatever, I dunno I’ve never read that thing
Meanwhile cook talk is running through my head “I’m pretty sure I’m dying” I tell him
Passive aggressive. ****** Isolated, negative worldview
Defeatism exemplified, the most educated generation ******* in the snow
Ya, I know. We’re entitled but they sold us a false reality
We can’t be anything we want, Jack, that’s a fallacy
“But He’s alright” he tells her. I guess they’d been ******** on men
I wanted no part of it – washed my hands of the whole affair
Focusing instead on scotch and rapidly disappearing ice
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
Oh Apparel American,
I walk with chaste in your isles
Since when did being plain become so expensive?
What went out the window
And came in through the back door?
Since when has less became more?
Where did your cotton come from to price so high?
Was it picked by the hands of celebrities and anorexia nervosa models exemplified to be our "perfect woman"?
Spare me your inordinate calico fabrics, I don't want them
I regret walking into your store
I refuse to be associated with your name anymore
I put my hands in my pocket, shake my head and start for the door, hung in shame, eyes on the floor
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 2:25 PM UTC
When juiced a spore sized embryo, early in utero; fetus
evinces atavistic miniaturization,
where nascent differentiation wrought
physical resemblance to - seek reachers,
sans Tarzan and Jane forebears,
or exemplification of religious embodiments writ upon taut
lee helical real to reel strung nano deoxyribonucleic acid,
where dome min ant
ander recessive traits pop sic cull, and/or mom genes sought
took comb hing gull, where foxy fiery hander chrome hat tick
microscopic threads ineluctably
hired bot to weave warp and woof for naught
heard interpretive soundcloud issue onomatopoetic beat,
whether as:
the Marseillaise, muezzin, or reveille blown in the wind
by alimentary mechanic, *** killed in all manner of ought
tow mobile craftsmanship, which possibly inflated and made pregnant,
when one seem n
thrashes within timed zona pellucida drawbridge,
hooping an ova to snag,
though odds stacked against the most basic cell fish competition fought
in the **** z of evolutionary biology informing **** sapiens
one errant or defiant game gamete perhaps hinting a gamine
tubby wonderfully woven with wisps viz The Idler Wheel Is Wiser
than the Driver of the ***** and Whipping Cords Will Serve You
More than Ropes Will Ever Do a ha at last that renegade oocyte
nabbed, analogously the Michael Phelps re: among the flagellated
madding crowdsource qua squirming sperm-faction caught
thence the commencement when trappings for a newborn bought
years later reviewing prenatal sonograms with grown son or daughter
pointing out how ***** editorialized, epitomized, and exemplified
in miniature (no bigger than any letter of the alphabet),
and closely resembled many creatures extant throughout the briny deep
such as an amphibian, reptile or Argonaut.
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 8:24 PM UTC
a scent makes me
sick with memory
the sea
surrounds me
aural bliss
amidst what's amiss
pounding keys
i'm down on
weakened knees
tones twist
intertwined
fates mix
yours a mine
I will be fine
in due time
the sound
exemplifies
tonight
will be fine
beings around me
surrounding
astounding
fall short of
feeling like
what I once knew
I see beautiful faces
I feel shared laughter
presently palpable longing
intensely do I long
I wish to converse
cultivate
swap brain waves
levitate
mimicking the water
it crashes upon
the flashes of
smiles, teeth
of pearls,
slow connection
with slow hands
to pick the brain of
the flowers pretty
enough to pick
I want to be soothed
with this ocean view
by the voice of one who
moves with the moonlight
one who wears lunar grace
softly around the wrist
regardless
I'm wrapped around
fingertips
the idea of your silhouette
towering
enveloping
your hair raining
flowing
down
a sensation
skin on skin
sand between
toes between
souls under
starlight
brighter than
flares
warning, waning
throughout the night
yet it can't come to be
because like the very
sand I sit on
my insignificance is
exemplified
and
multiplied
a million grains of
what would be
deemed desirable
men
crash, drip and slip
through your
dainty hands
i'm cast about
from fingertips
I am the very grain of sand
recycled by being
sapped through experience of
unobtainable beauty
waves crash over me
clumped together with the rest
I am of one entity
waves continue
waves will carry me away
waves however misguided
waves will carry me back home
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 4:26 PM UTC
Shingle shook,
these bookish handles
cove your head in herringbone,
It's sewn into
our standard-issue,
dangled under spinnaker
Here,
you and I
will come to terms
the terms of our endearment
a curvature of earthliness,
in miniature exemplified
the surfeit of our inadvertent
vertebrae declined
toward
the wave
Aug 27, 2021
Aug 27, 2021 at 12:46 AM UTC
‘Twas merely a fantasy
A wild dream beyond reality
My imagination captivated
My vision held at ransom
For the sake of your beauty
Beauty that penetrates my soul
Diving to the deep waters of my heart
Stimulating my complete desire
Etched and sealed in memory
Mesmerized by even a mere glance
Touching you, kissing you, I’m in awe
Never could I truly envision
How perfect these moments could be
The earth waits, time remains still
When your body is pressed against mine
My heart leaps in your presence
Awaken by your glow
Dormant, patiently waiting
My joy hidden and reserved
For your love that makes me whole
You are no less than a queen
Royalty exemplified in your every step
Commanding my full attention
You secretly secure my heart
Your smile is my reward
Holding you forever is my aspiration
Squeeze me while I make love to your soul
Hold my hand as we journey till old.
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
i guess when you're pretty, you can be androgynous,
and that's hardly the worry for the next skin head kid of
great Ormond St. -kneecap feeling of guilt - but hell,
i'd rather **** "Nicole" Maines than his twin
(wortschatz von herrzensor) -
pretty face akin to the river of binging
on looking at philippe i, fluke of orléans
******* it off while ensuring his wife
entertained a brother's calm to juxtapose
figurines worth a thousand souls
akin to blowing out of candles -
so why bother dreaming a coercion for
fakes and faeces into supposed applause,
that those nearest to you cannot afford your company,
yet afford it by being affording debt?
no smaller duty over a dress at court,
than it should be relative to the least exercise of power
undressed, and un-courted, to be anticipated courting,
given one's personal allowance as having wavered the king
toward crown and gravity, rather than anointment
and god... how thus disguise a caricature of
one's former serious argumentation for competing
sentences that disallowed sentencing via treason
thus, years later, allowed? is the crown
the joke? the king? or god? or maybe it is
man's laws that are the donkey's tail being pinned,
as forever in lover's jest best exemplified:
a man of actions will never be a man of words -
hence muscular actions gratifying easiest
leverage of the abomination of lexicon lost,
impede quickest and most versatile as those replacing
a forgotten heart, best kept secret between
however disgraceful the ******* of brotherhood
is given toward worship for a Narcissus not smashing
a kindred resemblance, instilled the widower swan
the blackened pupil with vigorous rubric:
repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat... only a conquered
woman is comforted - a freely reigning woman
ought be sacrificed with her belief of interpretation:
thus crucified; well, she damns the brothel,
but she isn't crucified enough to encourage
love freely born; but born under torture.
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 10:33 PM UTC