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Asim Javid Aug 2015
An interminable yearning of
solace finding.
A constant struggle of cicatrix hiding.
Euphoric trance,  we hanker it all.
To breath beyond the limits of wall.
Wall that curbs our accord.
To hum the songs from one old record.
To aviate beyond the visible horizon.
To be souls of mirthful composition.
Exempting our cores of concealed  desires.
To sway  with adored one in bonfires.
To see the world engrossed in
love and peace.
Will only,  then our souls
ensconce in ease*...
At rest, the motions seem sublime,
as we prepare our circular climb;
The winding 'round of colors' whims,
beneath the rock's exotic gems.

As the tale entrusted to our elders,
life's epic journey starts to smolder;
The planet's rage urges from its core,
and soon our days will be no more.

So moving quickly to escape our fate,
from the destiny of trials and hate;
Now gathering missives from the sun,
no longer fooled by anyone.

We face the climb just as we must,
before our hearts turn into dust;
and cheering on are clouds of rain,
Which spill onto our wounds with pain.

But then we see the course return,
exempting souls from hurt and scorn;
While climbing high yet much too far,
we've failed to capture heaven's star.
Keeping our 'eyes on the prize' can be dangerous ! Proceed with caution.
Tanisha Jackland Apr 2016
they say poetry is boring
I say poetry is a Goddess
exempting her patrons
from mortal bores and
group thinking legions
she kisses with the
certainty of words
and
manifests the glory
of effervescent moons
If you're bored, you're probably boring. Nothing new, there.
Sixolile Aug 2017
There is a certain beauty about the uncertainty of life,
prominence in the assumption that anything's possible.
The daily routines we embark on;
goal-setting, chasing dreams, breaking hearts,
mending broken hearts, emotional turmoil: happy highs,
sad lows, anger towards our failures.
An endless cycle of uncertainty, yet we push on.

There is beauty in that, the uncertainty, so I perceive it.
I love subtle beauty, it opens your mind up.
Aesthetics are not the only beauty, in my eyes.
There is beauty in the stumble and stagger of
a broken heart.
There is beauty in the defeat from an exhausting day.
Beauty in falling out of love, exempting yourself out
of agony.
Beauty in scathing through, barely afloat, to make ends meet.

Beauty, it may as well be that.
Life is open to all sorts of possibilities;
there is beauty in the fact we push on in spite of the hurdles -
push on in the face of struggle and defeat,
push on when everything's going well, of course,
push on when our dreams fail and need altering.
The beauty of life is not in romanticising struggle,
but in that there is strength within all of us;
a strength that fails to yield in the face of defeat.
We are beauty for pushing on.
Axiana Mar 2016
Submitting to invasive tendencies
I climb over mountain peaks with visceral fragility
I wait to jump, exempting this desire to feel freedom, to experience pleasure painfully
Struck down, I laugh in the screaming face that spits back at me
I look away as any place offering safety flees
I am one shattered shell withholding dangerous needs
A seed waiting to expand explosively
Corrupted by generous moments of greed
Watered by each and every one of these
Hellish fantasies that catapults completely
Any common sense of distracting decency
From getting in the way of succumbing to reality
I'm allowing these taboo emotions to openly bleed
Frozen in place I watch them slide over me
My body is freezing beneath this showering volcanic release
I can't control it, I don't know why this is unfolding
But I'm willing to see where this is going
The wind is picking up around my knees
And there is this knowing
That another dimension has found me
And is slowly consuming
A tsunami of need
R L Doe Apr 2015
You put your life on hold to examine the past, recalculating the out come and what came out. Who knew we’d be sad again, exempting everyone from the relationships of others. Swallowing acid, eating away your insides. Lying to your heart through the skipping beats, and *** stained sheets. You’re crying in the bathroom, reading a graphic novel in a hot bubble bath. Trying to relax, and forget about the past. Failing to tell yourself the truth about your heart-shattering memory and crushed up crush on whom you left behind. Can’t face the truth, so you’re chewing your teeth and swallowing in the shards. Your gums bleeding trying to spit out what’s in front of you but you draw a blank and the targets leaving sight. What are you going to do, you’re going to lie some more and hide it deeper down. You are, you’re going to taint with the tainted and dance with your demons. But they’re leading, and you don’t know how to tango. Getting dragged down and busting your *** ******* the ground, you plummet from Earth and fall to the hell you created yourself. You think back again, to what it could have been. If you’d kept your mouth shut, and just let it in. You cry.
About a life event in 2011, written winter of 2012.
preservationman Mar 2015
My movement being the defense
It was years of suppression that was past tense
My voice needed to ring out like the timing of the clock
Through it all, given names as a mock
I shouted loud and my voice became more of a woodmen’s ax
My thoughts might have seemed perplexed
I wanted to make sure there was no neglect
I stand for what I feel
Civil Rights is definitely for real
My voice speaks when it is my signal to begin
My direct approach until the very end
My hands raised up being the powers in uniting the world
The plan is too bring all races together as a total swirl
Bring spirits of inspiration
Desires but exempting temptations
Turning words into more than just parables
Seeing what society has done wrong
This is something that had lasted for so long
However through it all, I taught myself too be strong
But the agenda is for all of us too get along
Yet with God’s help, a chapter that will fit the pages of life where everything belongs.
Arik Fletcher Oct 2016
We smile to show a feeling,
We smile to be content,
We smile with no believing,
We smile to hide dissent.

We work to make a living,
We work to have a life,
We work with no exempting,
We work to hide our strife.

We sleep to start the healing,
We sleep to end the day,
We sleep with no forgiving,
We sleep to hide dismay.

We dream to search for meaning,
We dream to find an end,
We dream with no deceiving,
We dream to help us mend.

We wake to set a new course,
We wake to a fresh start,
We wake with no more remorse,
We wake to a cleansed heart.
Jabbering Ignominious Hypocrite Gabbles - against the backdrop of gross unbridled viscous wracking zealotry bruiting extinguishing inherent national trust...  

Poetic Introduction:

I wax and wane rhapsodic
plus prosaically politic
aware severe erosion
of American democracy
over run by narcissistic
over stuffed ego-freezer,
whose vocabulary
extremely laconic
foe swash buckling braggadocio
commander in chief
not gun shy
to brandish (hugely
bully like) jingoistic
tirade unleashing horrific
banshees more'n 10, 000
foo fighting maniacs
(nemesis of liberty) fatalistic
to sanctity of
United States democracy
throw back at him bigly,
his woeful treachery,
quasi xenophobic, tragic,
and lunatic bred anarchy!

Each ticking second of every single day, the pensive, doughy face execrably debased “dunderhead” criminal commander in chief (trumpeting acrimonious, calumnious, egregious...yakking), while donned in gay apparel) trumpeting lunatic, jingoistic, ideology imbues heretic catalysts.

Thou art unduly seething, quaking, and oozing mercurial kindling ideological glommed ethos of mine. These atrocious blaspheming, castigating, denigrating, excoriating, fulminating gross humiliations imply jerkiness, kookiness, lunacy.

No! Not for one more term can this acidulous, indecorous Mandates need outspoken politicians quickly removing this utterly vile wicked Xerses.

Thus spoke Zarathustra (without blandishment) to me, a gluten and monosodiumglutinate free, NON-GMO non-alarmist, nonestablishmentarian, nor ham aye a nihilist.

Yukon just **** sitter me a copacetic, energetic, ironic language lover (English is ma lingua franca late mother tongue), who waxes poetic, but tall so one babbling, creaking, and dabbling dis arming marine naval (gazing) scrivener expressing stance toward thee present lord save us (Te Deum) included despite admitting to espouse atheistic tendencies.

This “FAKE” president aces at blabbing acerbic, caustic, empathetic, fatalistic hoary jabbering mishmash!

I aim to affect a chain reaction while this paunchy dumpling remains in office, whereat he flirts, debases, colludes, with amoral, diabolical, execrable horrible ingrates.

His see-through debonair, imposter nuanced orbit poseur quite revealing sans, (inviting guests, sans agents provocateurs to join his all-star ensemble of mailer daemons, lampoon kickstarting imps of the pervert further underscores this delusional faux equalitarian huckster as an unqualified commander in chief!

A flourishing gesticulation (hocus – pocus) kindles, flickered and evinces braggadocio. This pantomime a charade, facade, inlaid limp odiousness. Via compounding gall, he makes official indiscriminate ******* legislation all the exempting himself and kin.

Smug slinking, sneering, sporting antics attempt to cocoon diabolical, horrible laws (automatically abrogating, evading, flaunting every decree, whereat he affixes his signature). This absolute zero with dangerous liaisons significantly, knowingly, and increasingly shortens the metaphorical burning fuse.

He sets the figurative and literal global shaky sphere stage setting off a global conflagration. If privy with box office seat, you will rub shoulders with guest appearances sans, worldwide webbed sheep in wool clothing faux allies.

These Janus faced grungy beastie boys, cagily, edgily cadge facile self-possessing knack to acquire fruitful knick knacks (paddy whacks give their dog a bone), which forsaken good and plenty treats blithely, blindly, blandly exchanged at the emotional, financial, and spiritual expense of American taxpayers.

This collusion to fiddle (while Rome burns), gamble and mollycoddle with turncoats actually, demonstrably, generously favors these chameleon nemeses.

Poetic Polemic Bookends this rant:

Though poor (financially),
this figurative anchorite
doth no longer
wanna feel powerless
against bicameral blight
thus approaching 2020 election...
uneasily doth excite.
Louie Joe Aug 2018
I dwell again in these thoughts,
That awoken me to a dream:
About daylight and darkness
And how they cannot be,
About the empty and half filled
And everything in between

Open to possibilities
Exempting the impossible
****** me with sweet false hope
In a trance of questions
Where to whom, what is why?
Lust for truth insatiable

Be it then, cause nowhere now
The bitter sweet liason
To believe the passion of belief
Betrayal to the mind, unfaithful
Placebo of the midnight moon
I surrender to reason

Tell me spoken silence now
For maybe later heard somehow
Secrets cannot bleed more lies
The honest gleaming in those eyes
This is the dream I dread is not
These are the thoughts I think of lot
NeverAgain Jan 2018
how tempting
to walk towards
infinite light
nameless fear
a sacrifice
one holds dear
a terminal blight
fragile blinding
foreverness
underlying
breathlessness
life's exempting
recommence
never ending
never less
Preze Reese Mar 2019
Months into the unknown future
Your head will turn
Ears will fall

Stomach become sour
Reactions may be severe
The reason will be thee

Remembering the advances I took
Countless attempts of desire
Stumbling at your feet

Dry tears **** my face
Head hanging low with fear
Buying fake flowers with water

Guilt will **** your day
Indigo faces turn gray
Rotten surprises will follow

Exempting angry lone places
Suffering from my appearance
Happiness laughs at your face

Your feelings once wanted
Leaps from you to me
I dodge
Emmett May 2020
Everyone except me accepts
me for who I am
I need to exempt myself
from the exemplary
Don’t focus on exempting me
Just focus on accepting me for me
By Jennifersoter Ezewi

Challenges falls to spread
Exempting non in all.

Hospital is not a taboo
But the diagnosis
That refers and cures.

Humans should be kind
With words

Just like
Coma demands sanity that heals
With words,
Not the insanity that mars
With words.

Mocking the challenged is like laughing
At someone whose car broke down
On the way when you haven't reached
Your destination.

Beautiful life cares;
Challenges come and go.
poetryaccident Sep 2018
The person says they don't believe
when the view is alien
without the proof to testify
to a bent their mind denies
the sure bet is clearly laid
an accident of consequence
if not in name, than by intent
without a reference to mend the rift

the definitions do not match
stating lies across the gulf
stating nonsense at the start
without an inch to walk the mile
to degrade the other side
empowers egos to deny
some small measure that combines
one to the other against the tide

when black and white become a gray
disagreement is soon displayed
battle lines are drawn in words
exempting knowledge as a tool
weaponized at all costs
the only path to winning all
even as a mortal soul
is destroyed by the resolve

disregard is the proclaim
abominations are disgraced
put aside as broken tools
for explanations that confuse
no proof is possible to explain
wickedness beyond the pale
of understanding in the mind
closed to spanning the divide.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180831.
The poem "They Don't Believe" was inspired by a person's statement that one of the LGBQTIA identities was not real because it couldn't be tested.  This hit me hard.  Intellectually I understand that they may have been coming from a "scientific" perspective. There was no malice implied in their inability to relate to the specific letter of the acronym.  This, however, rang hollow as the other letters don't require the same level of rigorous proofing. Legitimately being bisexual does not require signed affidavits, peer-reviewed studies, doctor's findings, and video evidence.  With that said, some aspects of the alphabet soup are easier for the larger public to understand than others.
Most of the follow
     wing (fictitious) quit
tuss cent shill, knit
head, (non adult tryst) pit
tee full (sorry excuse
     for originality), rit
dunk yule huss, feebly
     abominable attempt at unit

tarry yen rhyme for excellence,
     benignly, essentially,
     and honestly wit
less, worthless reading mitt
tear real - dashed off
(by this hare reed rabbit),
wall henna burst of
     (playful tulles toy) warren peace,

     aye practically spit
out (from inxs of carrot juice),
     now dost daringly be hove
     brave reeder to comprehend
     this dime metrical kickstarter fit -
bawling contrived nada very ***
till late ting, nor
     not so great English lit,

and moost unlikely tuff hind
     posthumous fame,
     worm ma obit
chew wary verb boss
     lee probably re:nouns,
(this once upon
     a time pablum child),
     nor e'en garner this hare reed

     ole Jack a one hit
wonder poetic laureate,
     nonetheless this
     (o' whar did me bunny go),
     perhaps to Brit
tin endeavoring merely
     to join United Kingdom
     (and merrily) writ

for the underground
     to test skill at
     heart felt fabrication like me,
     thus exempting bing
     considered, judged,
     and labeled tubby unfit.
Now let yours truly whoop
focus to address main intent,

     (sans for quick
     pick me up)
and nary drop of coffee,
     nope not even one molecule
     to fill thimbleful sized cup
I reach for bottle of Guarana,
     (one serving of
     coffee per capsule)

     fo' this aging pup,
who attests that caffeine
    (liquid and/or
     encapsulated), the sole vice
(except for barbiturates, *******,
     "FAKE" opioid, et cetera),
     which overdose nearly found me
     nearly a grateful dead – thrice

occasions, where
     circumstances of Mus
self (Stuart Little reincarnate -
     with an insatiable
     craving for cheese
     laced with Guarana,
     Paullinia cupana,

     a climbing plant
     in the maple family),
     which bean sized seeds
     affordable at an acceptable price
     many times larger
     than puffed rice.

— The End —