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"falsehood" poems
I left my home in the name of education I left my hometown in the name of higher education I left my state in the name of graduation I left my family in the name of aspiration At times, I miss my childhood Although, the fun & friends weren't the same in my adulthood In order to get rid of their falsehood I left them too, for my own good I have traveled so far away from home Now, When I let my thoughts to roam All they bring back is sadness and pain And then, I left my tears to drain I lost myself in this whole journey of life There were times when I often looked for a knife Not just to **** me but to end the pain I left everything and I'm waiting for a magical rain
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Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 6:59 AM UTC
LEFT
Let us not Sit behind our stares any longer The watch Is moving Why don’t we Love’s paralysis Is stronger Than I expected Shall it be A falsehood Of my misunderstanding Or am I Still Standing here for a reason Leaving Chance to do my bidding Abiding By the construed rules Of attraction As I pause at awe Awfully beautiful An unlawful marriage of the minds My unknowing bride Lies in front of me My truths lay juxtaposed In the background Just a pose On one knee Proposing to My wife to be Ha! My imagination Get’s the best of me You still Don’t know My name
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Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 12:43 AM UTC
The Greeting
May we live in and see interesting times, the old saying goes another offers that when the mind is blind, the eyes cannot see for me my days are interesting and the laughter readily and often comes for the grapes of wrath brings forth mirth filled grapes on grapevine tendrils As lemmings and sheep enact bellyaching absurdities, as the ridiculous does Veracity on sojourn and falsehood in residence with doors firmly closed Hamlet re-enacts hapless role, with Red Robin Hood and vigilantes to a tee eager audiences, participatory scenes in towns and cities, leaving empty homes come all and vent your spleen and satiate your prejudices without paying a fee This land belongs to us, it is our birthright and we will send Hamlet to the catacombs Nothing is private anymore, rights and freedom nailed, anywhere we roam Ophelia not only went to Italy, she went to Hull, Turnpike Lane and even Essex but a joke here, if all these were good, why did she come to me, you simple gnomes perchance unlike you common goons,  she knows distinction has no comparison to thee Your vacuous hate filled mind cannot see that difference in a Prince, that regally looms Act two, dim, fooled actors in their Beggars Opera, screaming, 'we oppose' with glee so called republicans, laughable in their ardent favor, ignorant of their lobotomy botches we will do Hamlet's head in, totally unaware theirs been done in, for the brains of fleas in a civilisation, our conscious and stable populace, roots for vigilante and mob rule, yeah for a man of distinction is a threat reminding you of your insignificance and lack of tomes Come friends, lets see how the home of Democracy, hounds a citizen for us all and we lets know that Robin Hood is alive and taxing, and 'Windrush' is still active in dispatches indigenous people power, meets criminal gang stalking, meets racism and we all drink tea and in true cowardly fashion, its all done by insidious, indictable, nefarious, malcontents and psychopathic crazies It is our proud duty that we should all ruin Hamlet, for mediocrity has no distinction for aspiration et excellence Copyright LaurenceA. JUNE 2018.All rights reserved.
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 8:00 PM UTC
Mediocrity knows no Distinction.....
May we live in and see interesting times, the old saying goes another offers that when the mind is blind, the eyes cannot see for me my days are interesting and the laughter readily and often comes for the grapes of wrath brings forth mirth filled grapes on grapevine tendrils As lemmings and sheep enact bellyaching absurdities, as the ridiculous does Veracity on sojourn and falsehood in residence with doors firmly closed Hamlet re-enacts hapless role, with Red Robin Hood and vigilantes to a tee eager audiences, participatory scenes in towns and cities, leaving empty homes come all and vent your spleen and satiate your prejudices without paying a fee This land belongs to us, it is our birthright and we will send Hamlet to the catacombs Nothing is private anymore, rights and freedom nailed, anywhere we roam Ophelia not only went to Italy, she went to Hull, Turnpike Lane and even Essex but a joke here, if all these were good, why did she come to me, you simple gnomes perchance unlike you common goons,  she knows distinction has no comparison to thee Your vacuous hate filled mind cannot see that difference in a Prince, that regally looms Act two, dim, fooled actors in their Beggars Opera, screaming, 'we oppose' with glee so called republicans, laughable in their ardent favor, ignorant of their lobotomy botches we will do Hamlet's head in, totally unaware theirs been done in, for the brains of fleas in a civilisation, our conscious and stable populace, roots for vigilante and mob rule, yeah for a man of distinction is a threat reminding you of your insignificance and lack of tomes Come friends, lets see how the home of Democracy, hounds a citizen for us all and we lets know that Robin Hood is alive and taxing, and 'Windrush' is still active in dispatches indigenous people power, meets criminal gang stalking, meets racism and we all drink tea and in true cowardly fashion, its all done by insidious, indictable, nefarious, malcontents and psychopathic crazies It is our proud duty that we should all ruin Hamlet, for mediocrity has no distinction for aspiration et excellence Copyright LaurenceA. JUNE 2018.All rights reserved.
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26
The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth is what the law demands but then the law is based upon the truth by which it issues its own commands. The truth is based upon Reality where there can't be any idea of falsehood, Reality is in fact the Absolute or Supreme Being that is really all Godhood. ___________________________________________
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Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 6:49 PM UTC
Quatrain #242 - The truth, the whole truth and....
We've heard the tales of eyes and smiles a hundred times before, but for this one I write about, I'll have to add one more. Though songs of faces say so much, they cannot tell the all, so I shall sing of one who wears the golden waterfall. The signals of her hatred for this world of little lies is registered within the tell-tale candor of her eyes. On this plane of human falsehood, such honesty stands tall, and so I sing of one who wears the golden waterfall. The poetry of words alone has not the grace to give her passion to discover all the love she wants to live. A warmth too great to be contained in her body, largely small flows through the hair of she who wears the golden waterfall. So from aside I watch, a half-read book upon her shelf as she throws light upon the unkind mirror of her self and wonders if the things she seeks will listen to her call - look! See them run to one who wears the golden waterfall.
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Mar 5, 2011
Mar 5, 2011 at 6:52 PM UTC
Golden Waterfall
No sirens are heard the morning is still, Hope awakens, a vibrant animal It was never dead, only hiding. Modern individuals, can reveal The root of their plight, let old wounds heal Daughters, allowed to make their own decisions, Mothers, remembered for loving care, Fathers, passing wisdom to their children, The hibernation of falsehood. But what of those who never found these things? To them we must give our fullest kindness, We all were children once, and we all deserve love. With forgiveness, justice, and harmony. Let no further judgements be passed, Let lovers rejoice, Let shots ring out in celebration Not as signals of termination. These cycles never end, But what festered yesterday, Today can be healed. Let lovers lie together in bliss, Absorbed in communion of affections, On this day let us heal each other, As we heal our world, One individual at a time.
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Sep 12, 2012
Sep 12, 2012 at 11:35 AM UTC
Healed Individual
equality; a perpetuated falsehood. unfettered THE POWERFUL devour the weak
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Feb 1, 2012
Feb 1, 2012 at 10:55 AM UTC
equality?
No. It's an impudent falsehood. Men did not Invariably think the newer way Prosaic mad, inelegant, or what not. Was the first pointed arch esteemed a blot Upon the church? Did anybody say How modern and how ugly? They did not. Plate-armour, or windows glazed, or verse fire-hot With rhymes from France, or spices from Cathay, Were these at first a horror? They were not. If, then, our present arts, laws, houses, food All set us hankering after yesterday, Need this be only an archaising mood? Why, any man whose purse has been let blood By sharpers, when he finds all drained away Must compare how he stands with how he stood. If a quack doctor's breezy ineptitude Has cost me a leg, must I forget straightway All that I can't do now, all that I could? So, when our guides unanimously decry The backward glance, I think we can guess why.
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5.6k
On a ****** Error
Away with your fictions of flimsy romance, Those tissues of falsehood which Folly has wove; Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing glance, Or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love. Ye rhymers, whose bosoms with fantasy glow, Whose pastoral passions are made for the grove; From what blest inspiration your sonnets would flow, Could you ever have tasted the first kiss of love. If Apollo should e’er his assistance refuse, Or the Nine be dispos’d from your service to rove, Invoke them no more, bid adieu to the Muse, And try the effect, of the first kiss of love. I hate you, ye cold compositions of art, Though prudes may condemn me, and bigots reprove; I court the effusions that spring from the heart, Which throbs, with delight, to the first kiss of love. Your shepherds, your flocks, those fantastical themes, Perhaps may amuse, yet they never can move: Arcadia displays but a region of dreams; What are visions like these, to the first kiss of love? Oh! cease to affirm that man, since his birth, From Adam, till now, has with wretchedness strove; Some portion of Paradise still is on earth, And Eden revives, in the first kiss of love. When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past— For years fleet away with the wings of the dove— The dearest remembrance will still be the last, Our sweetest memorial, the first kiss of love.
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The First Kiss Of Love
I don’t understand ****** for power I don’t understand Complaint without solution I don’t understand Ego without accomplishment I don’t understand Action without reason I don’t understand Judgment without experience I don’t understand Advancement without merit I don’t understand Worship without thought I don’t understand Belief without proof I don’t understand Love without kindness I don’t understand Want without need I don’t understand Talk without meaning I don’t understand Celebrity without talent I don’t understand A white lie I don’t understand Falsehood without challenge I don’t understand Might over right I don’t understand Beauty without soul I don’t understand Law from faith I don’t understand Victory at all costs I don’t understand An end by any means I don't understand Commerce over spirituality I don't understand Greed over giving I don’t understand Hurting a child I don’t understand Reward for failure I don’t understand Too big to fail I don’t understand The Virtue of Selfishness I don’t understand Too powerful to question I don’t understand Arrogance from vicarious pleasure I don’t understand Ambition without empathy I don’t understand The sale of loyalty I don’t understand Money over honor I don't understand Ignorance over education I don't understand Cheating I don’t understand Hate I don't understand Why the good die young I don't understand Do you?
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Mar 16, 2012
Mar 16, 2012 at 11:43 PM UTC
I Don't Understand
Eyes wide you do not allow oblivious sleep shadows branded on my retina reveal all contrast tattooed on my shoulder a skeletal hand *this illusion   pins me down* your questions have no answers questions remain asked again and again *I swear I know nothing* You say everything *is immaterial subjectively real ideas existent in the mind of the perceiver I am* (you insist) a true believer Parched and shrinking I ask for mercy you bring the cup to my fissured lips but it is empty a vessel of air you murmur *there is only enough for one what will you give in return?* Heavy metal arpeggios of wind head bang petulant faces inured to rain a repeating refrain in falsehood lies your truth but even you cannot halt the dawn a dark horizon pulls the strings powerless you sink behind the cloud- wall of your storm is it safe now to close my eyes? three times whisper *be gone               bright fiend* a weary incantation spell of protection the yawning wind done with howling hums reassuringly                                                     *“a change is gonna come                                                                   imagine                                                                                peace in our time”*
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Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 9:58 AM UTC
Interrogation
Believe or not Falsehood, suspicion, anger Anger, bully, dispute Unjust, pride, jealousy Envy, deceit, backbiting Abusing, exploitation, loot Adultery, robbery, usury ****** curruption, treachery Fraud, laundering and bribery Eat up human virtues Bring terrible ruins Devour all faith Lead to fall And at the end Push you into the hell. ..........BOOM............! ****************** 20-07-2013
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Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
BOOM...!
Upon this Primrose hill, Where, if Heav’n would distil A shower of rain, each several drop might go To his own primrose, and grow manna so; And where their form and their infinity Make a terrestrial Galaxy, As the small stars do in the sky: I walk to find a true Love; and I see That ’tis not a mere woman that is she, But must or more or less than woman be. Yet know I not which flower I wish; a six, or four; For should my true-Love less than woman be She were scarce any thing; and then, should she Be more than woman she would get above All thought of *** and think to move My heart to study her, and not to love; Both these were monsters; since there must reside Falsehood in woman, I could more abide She were by art than Nature falsified. Live primrose then, and thrive With thy true number five; And woman, whom this flower doth represent, With this mysterious number be content; Ten is the farthest number; if half ten Belong unto each woman, then Each woman may take half us men; Or if this will not serve their turn, since all Numbers are odd or even, and they fall First into this, five, woman may take us all.
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3.6k
The Primrose
Distasted disaster dooms Truehoods falsely spoken Falsehood & true galoshes Numbrella mousetrap ****** void twice And More And Morel eels
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Mar 24, 2010
Mar 24, 2010 at 11:14 PM UTC
seaside blue
Weighed down by the world’s burden honest eyes only perceive hope of a better earth, beyond the infallible burning Dwelling within a premature space reality isn’t what it seems years upon years of confounding lies & schemes Phantoms and apparitions of the fallen the only thing piecing together the shattered earth that is falling How long will the fog of falsehood blind us to reconnecting as a brother & sisterhood How many of us have to bleed the same number of us who screamed when our reality came dropping down from where aloft we kept our dreams Please, please, oh please How long will it take us to see.
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Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 11:00 AM UTC
Fatalism
Light and Darkness Most of us assume Are equal and opposites. But In reality, Light and darkness are opposites but they are not equal. Light is a physical entity While darkness in the mere Absence of light. Likewise, Love and hate are opposites but they are not equal. Love is real While hate can only exist in the absence of Love. Likewise, Truth and falsehood are opposites But they are not equal. Truth is a fact While falsehood is The omission of the truth. Love and Truth are the essence of the Divine. Hatred and falsehood are the absence of the Divine.
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Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 10:28 AM UTC
A Tale of Opposites?
He whispers sweet nothings into her ear; 'It's not about what I don't have but rather- Who I am inspired to be when you are near. I am 3 persons better when we're together.' She knows he is lying. She is certain of it. But she chooses to believe him all the same. It's how his falsehood and charms are so sweet- That he curves the best sound out of her name. She smiles when he smiles. It's his smile! She laughs at his jokes. His funny jokes. But she wont let him see her pains pile. She adores the peace with which he talks. She's hurting. But an ounce of his fake love- Has the likes of favour from a clan of gods. She hurts that it hurt if its him she's thinking of; But she holds on, praying for better odds. She's irrefutably all his, but he is his own man. She loves him with her every fibre of being. He merely likes her alot. Thats about it! Done!; 'A great love' vs. 'Some relationship-like thing.' He say's she's beautiful like he coined the word. He calls her his with the tone he does other girls. He speaks words like she's never before heard; She means a lot. He means a world of worlds. He is not a tamed lover. He is the perfect actor; The sort that hurts not with words, but silence. He tells her that he really cares alot right after- Breaking her heart with his affection's absence. He endeavours to serve her his very best- But the best he's known is to hurt her. So... He assures her that she'll be blessed- If he would leave her life and go so far. Tears roll slowly, down her made-up face. She's crying for her but more so for him. True, his love in her heart is out of place- But she willed to try and find life in a dream. From some distance, I watched her weep bitterly. I saw her as she fell apart. I wish I did not let her. So... Looking into her dark eyes, I said sincerely, 'Sorry. I can't love you. Go now. You deserve better.' Keep Smiling
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Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC
Go Now. You Deserve Better
He whispers sweet nothings into her ear; 'It's not about what I don't have but rather- Who I am inspired to be when you are near. I am 3 persons better when we're together.' She knows he is lying. She is certain of it. But she chooses to believe him all the same. It's how his falsehood and charms are so sweet- That he curves the best sound out of her name. She smiles when he smiles. It's his smile! She laughs at his jokes. His funny jokes. But she wont let him see her pains pile. She adores the peace with which he talks. She's hurting. But an ounce of his fake love- Has the likes of favour from a clan of gods. She hurts that it hurt if its him she's thinking of; But she holds on, praying for better odds. She's irrefutably all his, but he is his own man. She loves him with her every fibre of being. He merely likes her alot. Thats about it! Done!; 'A great love' vs. 'Some relationship-like thing.' He say's she's beautiful like he coined the word. He calls her his with the tone he does other girls. He speaks words like she's never before heard; She means a lot. He means a world of worlds. He is not a tamed lover. He is the perfect actor; The sort that hurts not with words, but silence. He tells her that he really cares alot right after- Breaking her heart with his affection's absence. He endeavours to serve her his very best- But the best he's known is to hurt her. So... He assures her that she'll be blessed- If he would leave her life and go so far. Tears roll slowly, down her made-up face. She's crying for her but more so for him. True, his love in her heart is out of place- But she willed to try and find life in a dream. From some distance, I watched her weep bitterly. I saw her as she fell apart. I wish I did not let her. So... Looking into her dark eyes, I said sincerely, 'Sorry. I can't love you. Go now. You deserve better.' Keep Smiling
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41
California has two places we would escape the hectic bay area Central Coast and Disney land. We were staying at a smaller hotel right by Disney we got to know the owners they were very down to earth. We were setting in the glassed in game room by the pool well the husband came in with nine business men from Japan they were talking about buying his hotel. This was back when everyone bashed Japan. The next morning my wife went to the pool I was thinking about those men did I want to bash them or go a different way. God gave this to me it came in a rush it was written in fifteen minutes it is patriotic and it deals with our great blessing that is wrapped in diversity Imposter From where did the lie first spring The face I show I don't even know The truth does sting so to falsehood I cling. Best to wear this disguise, continue with the faceless mass. America proud land of liberty; too long it's been just a veneer. Freedom you espouse, to have this you must clean prejudice from your house. True greatness finally you will know, when it shines through all colors. To do this you must rediscover the bedrock of your heritage. Truly believe the words that say "We the people." Words that shook the elements, only being surpassed at creations stage. To long our apathy has been collaborating with our enemies no more. This challenge is given to restore. Opportunity's open door let us our energy out pour. That freedoms passion soars, as in the past ******* it tore. Land of light continue, Miss Liberty your lamp burning bright.
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Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 4:30 AM UTC
Imposter
California has two places we would escape the hectic bay area Central Coast and Disney land. We were staying at a smaller hotel right by Disney we got to know the owners they were very down to earth. We were setting in the glassed in game room by the pool well the husband came in with nine business men from Japan they were talking about buying his hotel. This was back when everyone bashed Japan. The next morning my wife went to the pool I was thinking about those men did I want to bash them or go a different way. God gave this to me it came in a rush it was written in fifteen minutes it is patriotic and it deals with our great blessing that is wrapped in diversity Imposter From where did the lie first spring The face I show I don't even know The truth does sting so to falsehood I cling. Best to wear this disguise, continue with the faceless mass. America proud land of liberty; too long it's been just a veneer. Freedom you espouse, to have this you must clean prejudice from your house. True greatness finally you will know, when it shines through all colors. To do this you must rediscover the bedrock of your heritage. Truly believe the words that say "We the people." Words that shook the elements, only being surpassed at creations stage. To long our apathy has been collaborating with our enemies no more. This challenge is given to restore. Opportunity's open door let us our energy out pour. That freedoms passion soars, as in the past ******* it tore. Land of light continue, Miss Liberty your lamp burning bright.
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17
Get out of my heart Get out of my head You're not what you thought you were once And even then you weren't that Beauty is within And without And you're rotting Rotting from your exterior to Your core You are a rotten apple, not a bad seed Do you know how much sewage water it takes To contaminate a glass of drinking water? A drop You're a gallon, baby A gallon of sewage Tons of nasty Packed into eight ounces Of Falsehood So keep faking Maybe someday, you'll find soemone else Some other idiot who, like you, has no respect For themselves Or others Or society Or humanity Or progress So keep up your act Act well your role For you are our ***** STD The thing we never want to hear about But that reminds us of how much We want better for ourselves
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Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 1:13 AM UTC
I'm not gonna write you a love song, you promiscuous ****
Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes That they behold and see not what they see? They know what beauty is, see where it lies, Yet what the best is, take the worst to be. If eyes corrupt by overpartial looks, Be anchored in the bay where all men ride, Why of eyes’ falsehood hast thou forgèd hooks, Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied? Why should my heart think that a several plot Which my heart knows the wide world’s common place? Or mine eyes seeing this, say this is not To put fair truth upon so foul a face? In things right true my heart and eyes have erred, And to this false plague are they now transferred.
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2.6k
Sonnet 137: Thou Blind Fool, Love, What Dost Thou To Mine Eyes
Oh, I got that feeling again. I’ve been staring at the ceiling again. Letting my heart take flight, as the music reaches its height, taking my thoughts out of minds’ sight. But this feeling I now fight, cannot be controlled. Cannot be moved, overcome, or even forced to fold. Gripping my ever-changing soul and forcing my hands. As my breath leaves my body and my feet forget to stand. Hands pushed to speak through the letters they find. Putting feelings to words that cant seem to speak my mind. Frustrated by my inaction, that passively takes form. In the words I now force to unwilling conform. To these one-inch margins that box in my thoughts, constricting my deepest feelings and simplify life’s plot. All perpetuated by the rhythm, of the ever-spinning fan. Mounted just above my bed, that seems to hypnotize what’s in my head. Threading image to feeling, and my feelings to my words. As the tapestry of us, now resembles fleeing birds. Each winged reminisce that has forever taken flight, a moment in time that will always hold spite. Towards cliffs edge that stands between what the heart seeks. And a mans inability to step beyond its daunting peak. So with time ticking down and our future running by, I stand at a distance and continue our little lie. One living in the shadows of nights eternally pasted on, when passions ignited without though of our coming dawn. Only of the connection made with courage in hand, liquefied to motivate beyond what history had banned. What allies once forbid and witnesses cheered on, inhibition finding wind and politics forgone. Now forced to be nothing more then memories in the sand, as our hourglass approaches empty and my thoughts continue to be fanned. Continue to find rhythm as the blades spin madly by, ticking down to a day when I cannot take the lie. Cannot take this falsehood that pushes me from behind, as I approach that daunting edge of my own terrified mind. So with time in short supply along with my pride, I put black to white and our segregation aside. In the hopes that time stands still for just a moment more, to help you understand that it is you I adore.
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Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 12:59 AM UTC
Revolving Certainty (April 17th, 2013)
Oh, I got that feeling again. I’ve been staring at the ceiling again. Letting my heart take flight, as the music reaches its height, taking my thoughts out of minds’ sight. But this feeling I now fight, cannot be controlled. Cannot be moved, overcome, or even forced to fold. Gripping my ever-changing soul and forcing my hands. As my breath leaves my body and my feet forget to stand. Hands pushed to speak through the letters they find. Putting feelings to words that cant seem to speak my mind. Frustrated by my inaction, that passively takes form. In the words I now force to unwilling conform. To these one-inch margins that box in my thoughts, constricting my deepest feelings and simplify life’s plot. All perpetuated by the rhythm, of the ever-spinning fan. Mounted just above my bed, that seems to hypnotize what’s in my head. Threading image to feeling, and my feelings to my words. As the tapestry of us, now resembles fleeing birds. Each winged reminisce that has forever taken flight, a moment in time that will always hold spite. Towards cliffs edge that stands between what the heart seeks. And a mans inability to step beyond its daunting peak. So with time ticking down and our future running by, I stand at a distance and continue our little lie. One living in the shadows of nights eternally pasted on, when passions ignited without though of our coming dawn. Only of the connection made with courage in hand, liquefied to motivate beyond what history had banned. What allies once forbid and witnesses cheered on, inhibition finding wind and politics forgone. Now forced to be nothing more then memories in the sand, as our hourglass approaches empty and my thoughts continue to be fanned. Continue to find rhythm as the blades spin madly by, ticking down to a day when I cannot take the lie. Cannot take this falsehood that pushes me from behind, as I approach that daunting edge of my own terrified mind. So with time in short supply along with my pride, I put black to white and our segregation aside. In the hopes that time stands still for just a moment more, to help you understand that it is you I adore.
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1
Sweet girl! though only once we met, That meeting I shall ne’er forget; And though we ne’er may meet again, Remembrance will thy form retain; I would not say, “I love,” but still, My senses struggle with my will: In vain to drive thee from my breast, My thoughts are more and more represt; In vain I check the rising sighs, Another to the last replies: Perhaps, this is not love, but yet, Our meeting I can ne’er forget. What, though we never silence broke, Our eyes a sweeter language spoke; The tongue in flattering falsehood deals, And tells a tale it never feels: Deceit, the guilty lips impart, And hush the mandates of the heart; But soul’s interpreters, the eyes, Spurn such restraint, and scorn disguise. As thus our glances oft convers’d, And all our bosoms felt rehears’d, No spirit, from within, reprov’d us, Say rather, “’twas the spirit mov’d us.” Though, what they utter’d, I repress, Yet I conceive thou’lt partly guess; For as on thee, my memory ponders, Perchance to me, thine also wanders. This, for myself, at least, I’ll say, Thy form appears through night, through day; Awake, with it my fancy teems, In sleep, it smiles in fleeting dreams; The vision charms the hours away, And bids me curse Aurora’s ray For breaking slumbers of delight, Which make me wish for endless night. Since, oh! whate’er my future fate, Shall joy or woe my steps await; Tempted by love, by storms beset, Thine image, I can ne’er forget. Alas! again no more we meet, No more our former looks repeat; Then, let me breathe this parting prayer, The dictate of my bosom’s care: “May Heaven so guard my lovely quaker, That anguish never can o’ertake her; That peace and virtue ne’er forsake her, But bliss be aye her heart’s partaker! Oh! may the happy mortal, fated To be, by dearest ties, related, For her, each hour, new joys discover, And lose the husband in the lover! May that fair ***** never know What ’tis to feel the restless woe, Which stings the soul, with vain regret, Of him, who never can forget!”
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2.6k
To A Beautiful Quaker
Sweet girl! though only once we met, That meeting I shall ne’er forget; And though we ne’er may meet again, Remembrance will thy form retain; I would not say, “I love,” but still, My senses struggle with my will: In vain to drive thee from my breast, My thoughts are more and more represt; In vain I check the rising sighs, Another to the last replies: Perhaps, this is not love, but yet, Our meeting I can ne’er forget. What, though we never silence broke, Our eyes a sweeter language spoke; The tongue in flattering falsehood deals, And tells a tale it never feels: Deceit, the guilty lips impart, And hush the mandates of the heart; But soul’s interpreters, the eyes, Spurn such restraint, and scorn disguise. As thus our glances oft convers’d, And all our bosoms felt rehears’d, No spirit, from within, reprov’d us, Say rather, “’twas the spirit mov’d us.” Though, what they utter’d, I repress, Yet I conceive thou’lt partly guess; For as on thee, my memory ponders, Perchance to me, thine also wanders. This, for myself, at least, I’ll say, Thy form appears through night, through day; Awake, with it my fancy teems, In sleep, it smiles in fleeting dreams; The vision charms the hours away, And bids me curse Aurora’s ray For breaking slumbers of delight, Which make me wish for endless night. Since, oh! whate’er my future fate, Shall joy or woe my steps await; Tempted by love, by storms beset, Thine image, I can ne’er forget. Alas! again no more we meet, No more our former looks repeat; Then, let me breathe this parting prayer, The dictate of my bosom’s care: “May Heaven so guard my lovely quaker, That anguish never can o’ertake her; That peace and virtue ne’er forsake her, But bliss be aye her heart’s partaker! Oh! may the happy mortal, fated To be, by dearest ties, related, For her, each hour, new joys discover, And lose the husband in the lover! May that fair ***** never know What ’tis to feel the restless woe, Which stings the soul, with vain regret, Of him, who never can forget!”
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I am not whole. We are all missing a piece of our true selves. Reggae M.D. is here to save the day. My soul was cold and empty. Now, my emptiness is filled with a green warmth. An earthly glow. My sight was blackened by the falsehood of reality. Now, my sight is filled with the truth of happiness. Empathy in motion. My taste was enveloped by a shroud of insignificance. Now, my taste has been healed by the light of sweetness. The shroud unveiled. My hearing was entangled with the hatred of the recent generation. Now, my head is filled with Reggae. Reggae is love. Reggae M.D. has caused my life to blossom. Akin to that of the noble durian plant. A smelly fruit with hidden talents. Reggae M.D. saved my life.
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Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
Reggae M.D.
I am not the dusk! I live in immortality I sleep in immortality I rise in immortality. I am not the dusk! My words are pure On eternal marble Bringing down House of falsehood. I am the dawn Not the dusk I live in immortality Declaring His glory.
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Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 6:05 AM UTC
I AM THE DAWN
I believe in weakness in numbers I don't believe in peace I believe in blindness in responsibility I believe that ignorance is a decadence, something only people who are poor in spirit but rich in materials can indulge in I believe in jealousy in silence and falsehood in religion. In Numbers in colors And colors in infinite white spaces. I believe in Saudi Arabia because the letters look cool, but I don't believe in America because the seven letters look as if they should be stamped on a fast food bag rather than across a wheel of expensive cheese. I believe in masculinity, and feminism, and gay marriage, and people that you just want to sink into because their name is spelled s-a-f-e-t-y.
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Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 6:18 PM UTC
idk