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"explicitly" poems
Among'st a non-judging expanse, Creative clouds dance. Through fields one might prance, Find a tree and sit Or take a different stance. See it fully or just give a glance~ The clouds, they form in multiplicities, Reflecting simplicity; Expanding creative form explicitly. What'll it be? How'll it grow? Beautiful sky of freedom's form, Modify your figure and break the norm. Show me what never dies and is forever born~! And reveal to us in time what is on the inside, Usually hidden when worn. I saw this in the clouds today, when I was bored..
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Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 1:13 PM UTC
Cloud Watching
all of the words you speak today and tomorrow are in vain for you do not wish to throw rocks at my window, you know very well i am already on my doorstep waiting for you you love me in songs played on tuesday afternoons, gaps in conversation where three words are meant to fill it and faded journal entries dated when time was blind you’ve written disguised goodbyes beneath my eyes and subliminally (explicitly) whispered (shouted) to move on, move on, move on each moment i’ve tried to draw you nearer, you do your best to push me further away but even from a distance, you are still holding on let me go let me go let me go so i may finally let go of you
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Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 10:22 PM UTC
i don't want to let go
multimedia macramé sloshing propaganda sewage on the unsuspecting public ***** lice infest ****** hill folk west Virginia outbreak threatening the world as we know it flesh altering nonsense explicitly graphed charting movement of microbes on air, land, and/ or sea global currents the new deliverer of death – infected immigrants sit smiling internment camps providing nutrition never before experienced as non-natives negotiate freedom by submitting to vaccinations baths and the standard delousing powder – paranoid hand-sanitizer users glued to the **** tube spray their shoes with disinfectant praying to an absent GOD for health while shoveling GMO corn chips into ever widening mouth holes pharmaceutical companies lick lifeless lips as Congress recognizes their humanity while rejecting the concerns of the poor …..no money in it – outlandish claims of outbreaking Ebola flood the mainstream outlets fear: version – infinity one more plague plan to stimulate new legislation more law no touching even looking at the infirm can be cause for isolation radiation treatments courtesy of Fukushima, reactors 1-4 – new found focus on fracturing the shale releasing new oil reserves and old bacteria dinosaur killers free-radicals radically changing the genetic code humanity altered once again –
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Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 12:16 PM UTC
Ebola Schmebola
An abstract of an academic paper written by a doctoral student: "In this semimanifesto, I approach how understandings of quantum physics and cyborgian bodies can (or always already do) ally with feminist anti-oppression practices long in use. The idea of the body (whether biological, social, or of work) is not stagnant, and new materialist feminisms help to recognize how multiple phenomena work together to behave in what can become legible at any given moment as a body. By utilizing the materiality of conceptions about connectivity often thought to be merely theoretical, by taking a critical look at the noncentralized and multiple movements of quantum physics, and by dehierarchizing the necessity of linear bodies through time, it becomes possible to reconfigure structures of value, longevity, and subjectivity in ways explicitly aligned with anti-oppression practices and identity politics. Combining intersectionality and quantum physics can provide for differing perspectives on organizing practices long used by marginalized people, for enabling apparatuses that allow for new possibilities of safer spaces, and for practices of accountability."--an abstract of a paper by doctoral student Whitney Stark Atomic particles, how can it be so that your purpose is not just to flow in and out of existence, building reality-- the stars, cosmic gas and galaxies-- but to “ally” with groups of humans fighting “hierarchies” and demanding “safe spaces” (even though their entire race is at the top of their planet’s food chain). In this mysterious universe there is no safety, accountability or identity, only elements, and energy. Brief combinations make life legible for a nanosecond in cosmic time, and doomed to strife. Biology does not know oppression, only generation, reproduction, until our growth chokes us and we fall like so many of our ancestors, who lived and died on this blue-green ball. And one day the sun will explode and blow even our atoms, which have endured (despite oppression), and the particles will go far until maybe they sow new life, in bodies unfamiliar, on planets unknown.
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Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 9:31 AM UTC
The Universe v. Ideology
An abstract of an academic paper written by a doctoral student: "In this semimanifesto, I approach how understandings of quantum physics and cyborgian bodies can (or always already do) ally with feminist anti-oppression practices long in use. The idea of the body (whether biological, social, or of work) is not stagnant, and new materialist feminisms help to recognize how multiple phenomena work together to behave in what can become legible at any given moment as a body. By utilizing the materiality of conceptions about connectivity often thought to be merely theoretical, by taking a critical look at the noncentralized and multiple movements of quantum physics, and by dehierarchizing the necessity of linear bodies through time, it becomes possible to reconfigure structures of value, longevity, and subjectivity in ways explicitly aligned with anti-oppression practices and identity politics. Combining intersectionality and quantum physics can provide for differing perspectives on organizing practices long used by marginalized people, for enabling apparatuses that allow for new possibilities of safer spaces, and for practices of accountability."--an abstract of a paper by doctoral student Whitney Stark Atomic particles, how can it be so that your purpose is not just to flow in and out of existence, building reality-- the stars, cosmic gas and galaxies-- but to “ally” with groups of humans fighting “hierarchies” and demanding “safe spaces” (even though their entire race is at the top of their planet’s food chain). In this mysterious universe there is no safety, accountability or identity, only elements, and energy. Brief combinations make life legible for a nanosecond in cosmic time, and doomed to strife. Biology does not know oppression, only generation, reproduction, until our growth chokes us and we fall like so many of our ancestors, who lived and died on this blue-green ball. And one day the sun will explode and blow even our atoms, which have endured (despite oppression), and the particles will go far until maybe they sow new life, in bodies unfamiliar, on planets unknown.
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23
Since time unknown I wanted a mutt No Lego, No Hershey , would make me stop A golden lab, only, could break the rut Which i could feed and sit atop. Mother worried for the allergies and the fleas, the constant bark, dirt and spit. I swore to keep him up in trees and silent like a lonely pit. We got a pup and named it Edison, he did not explicitly, discover electric light. All he had was poo and medicine No wonder his tummy was never right. Every time a **** he let away With each paw he dug to dig. At midnight as others lay He ate on like a pig. One night a robber, dull and round, hauled himself across the yard; And then onto some furry ground, where the cur lay, his fat splayed, somehow, somewhat, on guard. A brawl ensued, boy, there was blood! the thief bit him and he bit back. Now, i have two graves in the mud, of Edison and of Jack.
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Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 11:45 PM UTC
Edison
The question regarding the question relies on what the question really is. If the question implied is a question directed outwardly, then it may be misinterpreted as a question to oneself internally. Otherwise, a question explicitly directed inwardly is critical to deciphering the question that one will address outwardly.   If an indirect question is questioned through the user, then the question itself becomes a metaphysical question to choose from. In the event a question is said through alternate means, consider the quantitative/qualitative state of the question at the time being; as it may be resolved by asking the question in a subconscious level indeed.   Superficial means tends to seek fundamental questions to the reality of the state one naturally possesses.   In the case where the unconscious decides the opportune event to question the conscious reality, one must interpret the means in examination of the intrapersonal mentality.   If the question is imposed through correlative thought and subliminal expression, then the question itself is related to a parallel conscious state intertwined with the unconscious state of mind of progression. If the question is relative in combination to the solutions mentioned above becoming apparent, then one has means to ask the question without questioning the question itself in disparate. Otherwise, the question continues to perplex the question through the continuation of irrelevant questions that one will have thought; creating a treacherous belief so concurrent one could not have fought. Therefore, is the reality of the question portrayed to the reality you live in or the reality of others? As this poem was conclusive to subtly evoke thought in the questions we construct. By: Michael M. De La Fuente
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 8:08 PM UTC
Deciphering Question
The question regarding the question relies on what the question really is. If the question implied is a question directed outwardly, then it may be misinterpreted as a question to oneself internally. Otherwise, a question explicitly directed inwardly is critical to deciphering the question that one will address outwardly.   If an indirect question is questioned through the user, then the question itself becomes a metaphysical question to choose from. In the event a question is said through alternate means, consider the quantitative/qualitative state of the question at the time being; as it may be resolved by asking the question in a subconscious level indeed.   Superficial means tends to seek fundamental questions to the reality of the state one naturally possesses.   In the case where the unconscious decides the opportune event to question the conscious reality, one must interpret the means in examination of the intrapersonal mentality.   If the question is imposed through correlative thought and subliminal expression, then the question itself is related to a parallel conscious state intertwined with the unconscious state of mind of progression. If the question is relative in combination to the solutions mentioned above becoming apparent, then one has means to ask the question without questioning the question itself in disparate. Otherwise, the question continues to perplex the question through the continuation of irrelevant questions that one will have thought; creating a treacherous belief so concurrent one could not have fought. Therefore, is the reality of the question portrayed to the reality you live in or the reality of others? As this poem was conclusive to subtly evoke thought in the questions we construct. By: Michael M. De La Fuente
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12
Forgiveness, to forgive                    (for me) Is essentially subtle- to a fault, Beautifully it's practiced, Yet inherently mistaught: To ask of anything more From the person you've done wrong Is blatantly selfish, at its core Pressuring them along. Unless exactly, specific and honestly, you reiterate once more. All the reasons which you petition forgiveness And what you're sorry for: To draw conclusions, assumptions and things, without the facts in place- Was to right out start off in an Unreasonable head space. Furthermore, my tone of voice And the disrespect it achieved Is not what you- Alena, not at all From me; should've ever recieved. Lastly, explicitly I have to say; I'm sorry for my aggressive words. And the fact I reacted that way is absurd A retort- as a minuet or two, voice note Deserved the block- and what you wrote. *I'm sorry about this- discrepancy I actually enjoyed you working with me. I'll leave this here for you to find, & Hope these words were worth your time. When you read, know these are sincere; my apologies- true. Not just mere pretty, fluffy words for you.* Poetry's something I, almost know, you appreciate~ so heres an apologistic-free vers hyphenate.
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Nov 21, 2023
Nov 21, 2023 at 5:56 AM UTC
Alena- My bad!
Once of a bride was I by a belle informed; Who, on the very night of their honeymoon Upon sighting her groom's dower, screamed And would not let him in for his ***** boon, Until she's taken thru the script the following Morn by her parson's wife in cool counselling. Many things in morals and etiquette do Parents their children ever and anon teach Except on this single unfolding issue Will they falter to them plainly preach: The act of marriage in its detailed image, Cause it's found nay on their nurturing page. An African mother will quiver her girl to lecture, For instance, in the subject under review, But will leave it to the Omniscient Nature To instruct her like cry to a curlew. So the bride's mom will not to her say: This is how you should roll in the hay. Neither will a father his son likewise tell Explicitly of this duty--this too I know-- How to make his led-to-the-altar angel Fly on cloud nine during their maiden show. My pa never me of this nuptial scene told, How in bed my lady I should stylishly hold. Yet instinct, that great ancient teacher, The green Adam and ****** Eve taught On man's debut moment of ecstasy ever, And did lead him to her piquant spot, Whilst one another they caressed for affection, Premiering for all couples conjugal copulation. And the animals who do not the wisdom Of man have, even every diminutive creature, How each by divine smarts in their kingdom-- Like the fish in the sea of their rapture-- Do with themselves mate with none Giving them tutorials nor showing them **** To close this up where it had first started: The *iyawo after the pending deed was done, As it should betwixt man and wife, delighted Was and with glowing warmth did thence burn In the hearth of her *ókò with ultra joy, Who at the beginning of performance was coy.
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Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 4:43 AM UTC
Left to Instinct
Once of a bride was I by a belle informed; Who, on the very night of their honeymoon Upon sighting her groom's dower, screamed And would not let him in for his ***** boon, Until she's taken thru the script the following Morn by her parson's wife in cool counselling. Many things in morals and etiquette do Parents their children ever and anon teach Except on this single unfolding issue Will they falter to them plainly preach: The act of marriage in its detailed image, Cause it's found nay on their nurturing page. An African mother will quiver her girl to lecture, For instance, in the subject under review, But will leave it to the Omniscient Nature To instruct her like cry to a curlew. So the bride's mom will not to her say: This is how you should roll in the hay. Neither will a father his son likewise tell Explicitly of this duty--this too I know-- How to make his led-to-the-altar angel Fly on cloud nine during their maiden show. My pa never me of this nuptial scene told, How in bed my lady I should stylishly hold. Yet instinct, that great ancient teacher, The green Adam and ****** Eve taught On man's debut moment of ecstasy ever, And did lead him to her piquant spot, Whilst one another they caressed for affection, Premiering for all couples conjugal copulation. And the animals who do not the wisdom Of man have, even every diminutive creature, How each by divine smarts in their kingdom-- Like the fish in the sea of their rapture-- Do with themselves mate with none Giving them tutorials nor showing them **** To close this up where it had first started: The *iyawo after the pending deed was done, As it should betwixt man and wife, delighted Was and with glowing warmth did thence burn In the hearth of her *ókò with ultra joy, Who at the beginning of performance was coy.
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42
Empty feeling inside Nothing pleasures me Constant want to die Thinking of it explicitly Can't enjoy life to the fullest Just in this boring existence Just surviving.... Just surviving....
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Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 6:19 AM UTC
surviving
You hide in plain sight as does day when engulfed by night For darkness is simply…. The absence of light You claim to have special enlightenment And that your knowledge is for the better good of the people Pledge your allegiance and your success will be imminent Break your pledge and your death will be discrete So why would you become part of something so “elite”? With only one thing in mind; to see the human race in defeat. An interminable amount of subliminal messages Hinting at events that are destructive, demoralizing, and deceptive. 9/11… was it really an act of terrorism? Or was it just an evil plot… something you guys expected? Al-quaeda and the Taliban… roaming around in the lands of Iran But on the land I walk some say it’s a misperception Just a façade in our brain so the government secrets are protected. Michael Jackson… and the Kennedy assassination Were they both untimely events in American history? Ghandi, The King, Malcolm X, Princess Diana, Shakur, Paul, Marley, the Kennedys’, Lennon, Fredinand, Lincoln!! All of whom were either at your feet or tried to make your secret secrete These deaths… from assassination to suicide… were all… “unfortunate” to the human eye? Or were they “fortunate” for the Eye of the Beholder? But why go to such great extent to have these powerful and influential people wiped from the human race? To keep a secret that has been soooo well kept for hundreds of years? A secret society that is not so discrete… anymore Hidden in plain sight and away from the human eye….. Trying to keep a disguise that will lead to our eventual demise You aren’t doing the world any favors By keeping an explicitly intricate order in store You’re favoring your own world under one order By intricately deceiving the minds of innocent citizens So, you hide in plain sight, the light of the earth A light you hope one day becomes permanently dark Cause once again, darkness is only the absence of light. With no light, we will be forced at the feet of your might Despite a fight, with no light and your might, we’re all just mites stuck on your flight of new world order. Well let me just end on this… **** THE ILLUMINATI!
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Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 12:52 PM UTC
The Lie of the Deceiver
You hide in plain sight as does day when engulfed by night For darkness is simply…. The absence of light You claim to have special enlightenment And that your knowledge is for the better good of the people Pledge your allegiance and your success will be imminent Break your pledge and your death will be discrete So why would you become part of something so “elite”? With only one thing in mind; to see the human race in defeat. An interminable amount of subliminal messages Hinting at events that are destructive, demoralizing, and deceptive. 9/11… was it really an act of terrorism? Or was it just an evil plot… something you guys expected? Al-quaeda and the Taliban… roaming around in the lands of Iran But on the land I walk some say it’s a misperception Just a façade in our brain so the government secrets are protected. Michael Jackson… and the Kennedy assassination Were they both untimely events in American history? Ghandi, The King, Malcolm X, Princess Diana, Shakur, Paul, Marley, the Kennedys’, Lennon, Fredinand, Lincoln!! All of whom were either at your feet or tried to make your secret secrete These deaths… from assassination to suicide… were all… “unfortunate” to the human eye? Or were they “fortunate” for the Eye of the Beholder? But why go to such great extent to have these powerful and influential people wiped from the human race? To keep a secret that has been soooo well kept for hundreds of years? A secret society that is not so discrete… anymore Hidden in plain sight and away from the human eye….. Trying to keep a disguise that will lead to our eventual demise You aren’t doing the world any favors By keeping an explicitly intricate order in store You’re favoring your own world under one order By intricately deceiving the minds of innocent citizens So, you hide in plain sight, the light of the earth A light you hope one day becomes permanently dark Cause once again, darkness is only the absence of light. With no light, we will be forced at the feet of your might Despite a fight, with no light and your might, we’re all just mites stuck on your flight of new world order. Well let me just end on this… **** THE ILLUMINATI!
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37
***Most people live for love But some of us live because of it*** Such unforgivable forgetfulness Lost within potential photos Preoccupied and overly abrasive Harmless yet persuasively implicit These eyes are speechless But explicitly dying to speak A picture so perfect for lust A thousand words Just isn't enough Deeply indebted With every glance   Too perplexed by color     How none of it belongs     Another illustrated nightmare    Where sleep is prolonged Where the sick plans To escape with the thought Trapped inside the mind So adolescent Oh picture the heartache Rejoicing over a carcass Still standing And rapturing moments We all long to feel This winter shiver So sicken from cold feet An undying hunger For butterfly soup ***Proof What worthy time to be alive Clearly sold on the vision Never too hasty to cover This lover isn't blind   But envisioned May we all fall victim To the photos We aren't viable to find*
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Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 10:35 PM UTC
Been Taking Pictures with Willow
Today,it rained. I sat down at my piano, And composed her an apology. The patter of rain. I looked outside, And saw a tempestuous spillage of emotions, And an unambiguous uttering of poetic truth; That I never could discover on my own– I saw the trees tell me explicitly. God has His ways. It was one. I never would have guided, My ever-so-guarded heart– To yield with all honor retained, And accept this silent insatiable feeling– Love. It always had been love; That defeated time, In the want of immortality, In the pursuit of eternity; That was abundant in scarcity, And that sat like one timid angel, In the abyss of my heart, And lit it up. Today, it rained. I sat down at my paino, And felt eternal in the silence between the notes. Tomorrow, it will rain. I will sit down at my piano, And sing a song to the moments of eternity, That God makes us experience, Wearing this mortal suit; In the name of love.
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Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 7:55 AM UTC
The Patter of Rain
Pretzel Logic always counter intuitive with a twisted sense of fate explicitly constructed how much longer will you wait the axiom of choice the scenario of doubt with random intervention how can you bring about a clear and precise result with no deviance in action probability of predictions spinning wheels with no traction the answers so concise in udder chaos results you find without collaboration such an eery creepy mind a scavenger of darkness deep down thoughts somewhat toxic no wavering in directions manipulative pretzel logic Gomer Lepoet...
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May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC
Pretzel Logic
Stop being such a gentleman, If you can help it, and tell me explicitly, that you want me to go the f*ck away.
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Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 10:47 AM UTC
Don't Be A Gentleman
Crazy is as crazy does, that doesn't apply to me I work in vivid's, reds, purples, yellows, it's just my artistry My mind is my playground, it recreates past history accessing the irony of images, not a silent plea Hero's by any name, are fools, explicitly doing what they do, and doing it, for free
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Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 8:46 AM UTC
Joker's creed
It was never my intention to place you in harms way. Enlisting your heart to trouble after we kissed on that precious day. As time elapsed, my heart took a moment to understand. You were portraying your earnest emotions subtly then crass. The turmoil you must’ve felt during the time you kept to yourself… Causing you to experience agonizing despair while delving into mournful swells… Find it in your heart to forgive these third degree burns. For it was never my intention to crucify your kind soul. My love yearns to romanticize unhurriedly, Seducing passionately while intimately feeding the soul so fluidly. Is it too much to ask for an amorous exploration? For what is love without a genuine vibration? If *** is all you seek, Be explicitly direct; don’t play games that will cause deceit. Otherwise, in the end, ambivalent emotions will prevail. Crafting a false sense of endearment that will soon be too much for you to bear. I once journeyed to a crucible of love and hate. Traveling far beyond the unfathomable depths of heartache. Hopelessly exiled to endure the slowest of brutalizing pains; A light was discovered, allowing the abhorrence to dissipate. By: Michael M. De La Fuente
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
My Lady...
There is a Softness in the Shadows, On a breezy, Sun~filled Day. Splashing Contrast divides the Colors, trading within the shade, An interlacing patchwork, Arrangement by Rotation, Earth's Grandly Spun Bouquet. Movement amongst the shifting Patterns, playfulness in~All direction, Like children chasing randomness, Laughing in the garden that echoes through with effortless, nonchalant Expression. Eastwardly to Westwardly, Tracing loftily between Tree leaves, Mountains broad projectories, deepening the Shadows Shade, Yawned in stretching reach, Duality of Accolades, like Coastlines of a Beach. Lost in Lover's parting Kiss, In Amorphous Amore, Animates explicitly, A shy Shadow's story. Into the deep embrace of Night, A lingering at Sunset's Crest, Hallowed out in Shadow's shade, Sewing~dreamy patchwork Seams of Fabric feathered Sleep.
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May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
PatchWork Shadows ~ Complete
When you die People you will have never met will give your family condolences When you die Spurned former lovers will send delicate flowers When you die People will be summoned to make you look beautiful The way that you felt on nights you enjoyed being yourself the most When you die Cautious children will cry without ever learning of your conflicting views on children When you die They might hang the church wall with pictures of weddings and graduations When you die You may not be alone When you die You might be the first and the others will all follow Having made no preparations of their own. When you die They might play your favorite song or they might play a more "appropriate" song as they lead you away and some people will be scolding themselves about forgetting where they parked When you die They may have forgotten that you didn't believe in the afterlife Quotations from Leviticus notwithstanding When you die You could be the the one who made the most important impact on your daughter or son's life You might have their life worth living When you die It may be to no applause When you die It may inspire your mother's gynecologist to visit a church for the first time in almost half a decade and feel genuine empathy for the rituals of human dignity regardless of the tribe When you die none of your siblings may attend the rain might pore on your last parade and people might go home early When you die Everybody may just have a great time heads beaming, shoulders high When you die It might be the longest day of Summer with waterfights in the park near you were born. When you die You will have lived to see all your ambitions come alive Even if that penpusher "Reality" explicitly states otherwise.
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Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
Persephone
When you die People you will have never met will give your family condolences When you die Spurned former lovers will send delicate flowers When you die People will be summoned to make you look beautiful The way that you felt on nights you enjoyed being yourself the most When you die Cautious children will cry without ever learning of your conflicting views on children When you die They might hang the church wall with pictures of weddings and graduations When you die You may not be alone When you die You might be the first and the others will all follow Having made no preparations of their own. When you die They might play your favorite song or they might play a more "appropriate" song as they lead you away and some people will be scolding themselves about forgetting where they parked When you die They may have forgotten that you didn't believe in the afterlife Quotations from Leviticus notwithstanding When you die You could be the the one who made the most important impact on your daughter or son's life You might have their life worth living When you die It may be to no applause When you die It may inspire your mother's gynecologist to visit a church for the first time in almost half a decade and feel genuine empathy for the rituals of human dignity regardless of the tribe When you die none of your siblings may attend the rain might pore on your last parade and people might go home early When you die Everybody may just have a great time heads beaming, shoulders high When you die It might be the longest day of Summer with waterfights in the park near you were born. When you die You will have lived to see all your ambitions come alive Even if that penpusher "Reality" explicitly states otherwise.
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61
Carnival carvings seep into your tombstone. And from the ceiling, we hanging, in red and black striped pajamas watched you get lowered. The jesters        cartwheel in my laugh, they travel and trial, tediously tar, and rat aches in to my tartar. I weep for the wayward west, that (you never explicitly promised) we were to visit. I've seemed to begun, helter-skelter a few;                    steam trombones There are no masonry aemons. Of ghouls gnaws only poetry, awaiting our reunion, my dearest Laika- forever deceased.
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Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 8:16 PM UTC
Laika
Her supple and shapely silhouette rests submissively as the luster upon the soft satin sheets arouses sensual images of salaciousness beneath the sheen surface My empty yet enduring eyes slowly engage the darkness eager to embark upon the elusive lines energizing the elation as a sojourning moon entices her to endear Her excelling exuberance... exploited on exhalation exposing her explicitly; exemplifying the excerpt of an exonerated experience as the moonlight expires
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Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 2:33 AM UTC
Persuasions of a Sojourning Moon
*A few forgetful moments And I am littered with paper cuts. Each tear is a page: a meaning: a reason. I am encased with quilts and a Bubbling love, but the chills And demons find their way through.* I was told Explicitly To pull my head out of my *** Because struggling with education, depression, and Harassment Is inconvenient for others. I forgot to reline the trash can in the bathroom. **Dear diary, I almost hurt myself again today. Its been over ten months since I did it last, but you know what a ***** life is. See ya later!** ***** reminds me of rainbows, And vice-verse. My stomach is thunder. I don't have enough tears to make it rain, But I might **** enough.*** What should I do with my life? I make decisions and Work my *** off more than any 16 year old I know, And care for others in any way I can In hope that they will return the favor when I need it, But I'm still ignorant and selfish, says she. *Sometimes I wonder which way is up And right. A nervous tick of mine. A moody strand of my being. Trying to connect to reality, but curving...*
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May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 11:05 AM UTC
Riddled
I really want to know if you feel the same. If you miss me like how insanely I do. But I don't want to know because there might be nothing to know, nothing you feel. I hugged you for the last time in my dreams I savour it for the last two ever lasting seconds. It was time to let go, to no longer explicitly love you but to disguise you, discreetly as a weak spot. A weak spot which I gladly accept and embrace loathe and love consume and crave.
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Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 1:14 PM UTC
weak spot
I told my self i'd never write a love song, nor a love poem, nor try to express it in any way, Because at the time i never knew how to explicitly express it, I still feel bitter expressing feelings that I could not have before, Time has passed and were further apart then we ever were, We don't say words we usually would say, We don't talk like we used to, We only talk every so often and when were alone we walk in silence We don't love like we used to, We don't look at each other like we used to, Seven years will have passed and we still won't be together, It's not easy moving on after you said you loved me, But were still young are we not? How could we have ever known what it's like? I'm telling you seven years of devotion, Seven years of pain, seven years of wanting to be with an ******* Seven years of loving someone who could only love his smokes & **** To give them up  for me, You didn't keep that promise you made, I can't believe I loved someone who hurt my best friends, Who critized everyone he met, Who poked and prodded at everyone's weak side, Who as if stripped me naked and laughed at my most feared insecurity, Who told me he finally manned up to tell me how he felt, And then changed his mind constantly, Which will it be? Time's running out, don't you see? We have dont'have time anymore, to give this a shot, So let's go at this with every fibre of our being we've got better to face your fears, Then to later regret in our older years. I'm tired of fighting these tears, One day will be early or to late, I'll be gone before you can think straight, Should've never done those drugs, You ask me why? Why i'd fall for someone like that? Because I believed that there is good in everyone, even if their past and future have never changed for the better,
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Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 11:19 PM UTC
I told myself
I told my self i'd never write a love song, nor a love poem, nor try to express it in any way, Because at the time i never knew how to explicitly express it, I still feel bitter expressing feelings that I could not have before, Time has passed and were further apart then we ever were, We don't say words we usually would say, We don't talk like we used to, We only talk every so often and when were alone we walk in silence We don't love like we used to, We don't look at each other like we used to, Seven years will have passed and we still won't be together, It's not easy moving on after you said you loved me, But were still young are we not? How could we have ever known what it's like? I'm telling you seven years of devotion, Seven years of pain, seven years of wanting to be with an ******* Seven years of loving someone who could only love his smokes & **** To give them up  for me, You didn't keep that promise you made, I can't believe I loved someone who hurt my best friends, Who critized everyone he met, Who poked and prodded at everyone's weak side, Who as if stripped me naked and laughed at my most feared insecurity, Who told me he finally manned up to tell me how he felt, And then changed his mind constantly, Which will it be? Time's running out, don't you see? We have dont'have time anymore, to give this a shot, So let's go at this with every fibre of our being we've got better to face your fears, Then to later regret in our older years. I'm tired of fighting these tears, One day will be early or to late, I'll be gone before you can think straight, Should've never done those drugs, You ask me why? Why i'd fall for someone like that? Because I believed that there is good in everyone, even if their past and future have never changed for the better,
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You take the words from my mouth, Physically removed, Disapproved. You take the thoughts from my mind, totally revised, Cencorised You control what i say, What they see, Explicitly. No more control of content, Freedom of speech, Breached.
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Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 9:12 PM UTC
Intellectual restriction, cease