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"fatter" poems
This is America for Petes sake Black lives don’t matter here They say they’re being treated unfair But they’re the one’s drinking up all the welfare And we even pay for their health care Poor black folk shouting black lives matter But they don’t matter The only thing that matters is the fat cats getting fatter Build a school or a jail? In a place like Baltimore, those black kids are already bound to fail Let’s not forget from whence we hail We came from abroad to build this house This was never meant to be a game of cat and mouse They don’t know their power, so they will never see their hour Cause you see white people are only safe when those animals scared White people are only safe when white people are feared When black people are teared, and on their face is smeared the blood of their ancestors, on the altar that is prepared The altar that was broken down when we ended Jim Crow Since then look how low our country did go But at last at last now again we can make America great Now again we can end any debate , about what it means to be free Cause when Trump is in charge I’ll tell you, you won’t tell me When Trump is President you'll put your hand over your heart for the anthem, not take a knee When Trump is President, You’ll be satisfied , you’ll lower your fist and you’ll be You’ll be gratified, you’ll shut your mouth and watch your people die You’ll watch them bleed like Alton Sterling, You’ll stand there you’ll cry And then you’ll wonder why, why does the color of your skin decide whether or not you win As you kneel before me thinking about your next of kin, ready to feel these bullets in your body as your reality sets in This country was never your own We brought you here as slaves, you call out for a savior but Abraham Lincoln is dead so you can put down the phone Martin Luther King is dead so you can put down the phone Malcom X is dead, you see,now you’re all alone We’ve infiltrated your culture and now that seed has grown As we watch you destroy each other and continue to postpone anything that looks like freedom Cause you see freedom isnt free We gained ours in 1776 Your ancestors were still in chains but here today you celebrate with me Thinking that you’re free But you will never be free Harriet Tubman freed a thousand slaves And she could've freed a thousand more but they were cheering for Trump in his rallies Because they can’t grasp what it means to be free And that mere truth is the key So we won’t say their names We won’t feel their pains Cause this is the United States of America , and white is right, we still hold the reigns
0
Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 12:13 AM UTC
Views from the other side
This is America for Petes sake Black lives don’t matter here They say they’re being treated unfair But they’re the one’s drinking up all the welfare And we even pay for their health care Poor black folk shouting black lives matter But they don’t matter The only thing that matters is the fat cats getting fatter Build a school or a jail? In a place like Baltimore, those black kids are already bound to fail Let’s not forget from whence we hail We came from abroad to build this house This was never meant to be a game of cat and mouse They don’t know their power, so they will never see their hour Cause you see white people are only safe when those animals scared White people are only safe when white people are feared When black people are teared, and on their face is smeared the blood of their ancestors, on the altar that is prepared The altar that was broken down when we ended Jim Crow Since then look how low our country did go But at last at last now again we can make America great Now again we can end any debate , about what it means to be free Cause when Trump is in charge I’ll tell you, you won’t tell me When Trump is President you'll put your hand over your heart for the anthem, not take a knee When Trump is President, You’ll be satisfied , you’ll lower your fist and you’ll be You’ll be gratified, you’ll shut your mouth and watch your people die You’ll watch them bleed like Alton Sterling, You’ll stand there you’ll cry And then you’ll wonder why, why does the color of your skin decide whether or not you win As you kneel before me thinking about your next of kin, ready to feel these bullets in your body as your reality sets in This country was never your own We brought you here as slaves, you call out for a savior but Abraham Lincoln is dead so you can put down the phone Martin Luther King is dead so you can put down the phone Malcom X is dead, you see,now you’re all alone We’ve infiltrated your culture and now that seed has grown As we watch you destroy each other and continue to postpone anything that looks like freedom Cause you see freedom isnt free We gained ours in 1776 Your ancestors were still in chains but here today you celebrate with me Thinking that you’re free But you will never be free Harriet Tubman freed a thousand slaves And she could've freed a thousand more but they were cheering for Trump in his rallies Because they can’t grasp what it means to be free And that mere truth is the key So we won’t say their names We won’t feel their pains Cause this is the United States of America , and white is right, we still hold the reigns
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50
And all your heros are gone, but you refuse to take off the mask. A loudmouth, a capitalist, with greasy hair and a golden toothpick, he is your enemy he is your oppressor and he sits upon a throne of coal and blood with armed security and a nation built for him, to protect him and his money, a police state, pat downs on the corner, murdered in the street, your daughters gotta eat. He grows fatter and fatter still, he loves complacency, he loves contentment, he invests heavily in both. He knows we are strong, he knows we are many, he knows he must divide us to win, he knows we're his greatest weapon, so he created Fox News, he created TMZ, stealthily, we didn't even notice, he created NPR and KVIE, he gave them masks that look like ours. They look poor, they look starved, they look like us, but they have a different master. Our master is the earth, our master is our coworker, our neighbor, our mailman, our dishwashers, our bus drivers, our minimart clerks. Our masters are not the TV, our masters are not the radio, our masters are not the New York Times, they are not National Geographic, they are not BP, they are not our principals, our administrators, our policemen, our CEOs, our investors, our bankers, our insurance providers, these people hate us, they hate us because they can't squeeze blood from a stone, and the rivers are running dry, the factories are standing still, the people, our masters and our friends, they're in the streets, they're shouting "BLACK LIVES MATTER" they're shouting "NO JUSTICE NO PEACE" "NO MORE WAR FOR OIL" **** THE POLICE" "DOWN WITH THE 1%" and soon and soon, The False Gods will grow so fat and we'll have nothing left to eat but them, and on that day we'll sit down to dine and it won't be civilized and it won't be pretty, their blood, our blood, will feed the rivers and their flesh will feed our hungry children and their money will burn and warm our chilled bones but we can't wait, we can't wait for this to happen because everyday they grow stronger, we grow weaker and the river becomes dryer. The Bourgeois is our enemy, they say 'All Lives Matter' they say 'Work Hard and Your Dreams Will Come True' BUT THEY LIE
0
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
Untitled
And all your heros are gone, but you refuse to take off the mask. A loudmouth, a capitalist, with greasy hair and a golden toothpick, he is your enemy he is your oppressor and he sits upon a throne of coal and blood with armed security and a nation built for him, to protect him and his money, a police state, pat downs on the corner, murdered in the street, your daughters gotta eat. He grows fatter and fatter still, he loves complacency, he loves contentment, he invests heavily in both. He knows we are strong, he knows we are many, he knows he must divide us to win, he knows we're his greatest weapon, so he created Fox News, he created TMZ, stealthily, we didn't even notice, he created NPR and KVIE, he gave them masks that look like ours. They look poor, they look starved, they look like us, but they have a different master. Our master is the earth, our master is our coworker, our neighbor, our mailman, our dishwashers, our bus drivers, our minimart clerks. Our masters are not the TV, our masters are not the radio, our masters are not the New York Times, they are not National Geographic, they are not BP, they are not our principals, our administrators, our policemen, our CEOs, our investors, our bankers, our insurance providers, these people hate us, they hate us because they can't squeeze blood from a stone, and the rivers are running dry, the factories are standing still, the people, our masters and our friends, they're in the streets, they're shouting "BLACK LIVES MATTER" they're shouting "NO JUSTICE NO PEACE" "NO MORE WAR FOR OIL" **** THE POLICE" "DOWN WITH THE 1%" and soon and soon, The False Gods will grow so fat and we'll have nothing left to eat but them, and on that day we'll sit down to dine and it won't be civilized and it won't be pretty, their blood, our blood, will feed the rivers and their flesh will feed our hungry children and their money will burn and warm our chilled bones but we can't wait, we can't wait for this to happen because everyday they grow stronger, we grow weaker and the river becomes dryer. The Bourgeois is our enemy, they say 'All Lives Matter' they say 'Work Hard and Your Dreams Will Come True' BUT THEY LIE
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66
She stared at her thighs, Tears streaming her face, Wanting to hide, In an isolated place. Fatter and fatter, They grew and grew, Before her eyes, Yet nobody knew. The pain she felt, As she watched her reflection, Searching around her, Wanting protection. Her heart starts to bleed, And her bones start to wither, Her skin loses colour, She continues to shiver. The person inside her, Causing these thoughts, Distort her reality, And need to be caught. She has an illness, A serious one too, So please don't ignore it, Cause next could be you. So let's raise awareness, Of these devils inside, Let's hunt them down, Leaving nowhere to hide. Reach out your hand, Come on, speak out, We will beat this together, Lets scream and shout-- To victory at last! Its been a long time coming, So many lost lives, But we're no longer running. E.M Pearson
0
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
Distortion
There is pressure in society That judges how your looks should be And when I hear a girl proclaim "I'm fat!" As though there was something wrong with that, Such thoughts, I tell you, just won't do When the opposite is clearly true Because with big girls there is more to love, And they won't break with a playful shove. And although I'm not one for body shaming, And don't wish to sound like I'm complaining, Thin girls simply lack the cellulite To keep somebody warm at night, Their bones protrude in awkward places And they have gaunt, unhealthy faces They regularly seem in a foul mood (Which is probably caused caused by lack of food), And you can't get anything to eat Without them scowling at the treat, That you, yourself, have chose to order, While they dine on salad and water, Until they scream "I've had enough! You have no idea how tough It is to keep this slender figure And stop myself from getting bigger!" As if it was somehow your fault That they won't eat sugar or salt, Or that they'll spend 3 hours at the gym As a compromise for staying thin. So while I'd love a girl however she looks (As long as we like similar books, And can talk for hours at a time, Or not at all and still be fine) There's very few (indeed, if any! Although their numbers may be many), Skinny girls I've ever met That a big one hasn't beaten yet! If you must lose weight I do implore You know it's yourself you do it for And while I must concede it doesn't matter, To most if you're thinner or fatter, No songwriter, I'll think you'll find Wrote a song about a small behind No artists brush strokes ever found Joy in painting girls that were not round And the best words found in poetry Are about big girls it's plain to see Like voluptuous, buxom, and well-rounded With thin girls how would they have sounded? Although I must- again- make haste to add That no truly self-respecting lad Would ever dream of judging you By how you look, not what you do, So if shedding pounds makes you feel great Then go ahead and lose some weight, But ignore what shallow fools may say, As they'll just keep judging anyway, Because the best people, you'll always find, Will love you for what's in your mind.
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Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 7:43 PM UTC
Big Girls Are Awesome (Skinny Ones Are Quite Nice Too)
There is pressure in society That judges how your looks should be And when I hear a girl proclaim "I'm fat!" As though there was something wrong with that, Such thoughts, I tell you, just won't do When the opposite is clearly true Because with big girls there is more to love, And they won't break with a playful shove. And although I'm not one for body shaming, And don't wish to sound like I'm complaining, Thin girls simply lack the cellulite To keep somebody warm at night, Their bones protrude in awkward places And they have gaunt, unhealthy faces They regularly seem in a foul mood (Which is probably caused caused by lack of food), And you can't get anything to eat Without them scowling at the treat, That you, yourself, have chose to order, While they dine on salad and water, Until they scream "I've had enough! You have no idea how tough It is to keep this slender figure And stop myself from getting bigger!" As if it was somehow your fault That they won't eat sugar or salt, Or that they'll spend 3 hours at the gym As a compromise for staying thin. So while I'd love a girl however she looks (As long as we like similar books, And can talk for hours at a time, Or not at all and still be fine) There's very few (indeed, if any! Although their numbers may be many), Skinny girls I've ever met That a big one hasn't beaten yet! If you must lose weight I do implore You know it's yourself you do it for And while I must concede it doesn't matter, To most if you're thinner or fatter, No songwriter, I'll think you'll find Wrote a song about a small behind No artists brush strokes ever found Joy in painting girls that were not round And the best words found in poetry Are about big girls it's plain to see Like voluptuous, buxom, and well-rounded With thin girls how would they have sounded? Although I must- again- make haste to add That no truly self-respecting lad Would ever dream of judging you By how you look, not what you do, So if shedding pounds makes you feel great Then go ahead and lose some weight, But ignore what shallow fools may say, As they'll just keep judging anyway, Because the best people, you'll always find, Will love you for what's in your mind.
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58
one who basks in the soft heat of grandiose moonliness growing fatter on honeyed imaginations their sicklysweetness soaking through the pores of countless generations their minds invade a collective consciousness burning arcs of inspiration – torches of the collective vision in drilling through mutual experience great gaping black holes of creation effigies of super-egos, lynched on altars of desire neon flames and disco lights, emotions on a massive pyre maiden voyagers on never-ending cruise sinking in foreign oceans – their endurance dupes minor gods of destiny and fate they await dionysian ****** of wine and food for thought and hearts that beat in unison a schizoid muttering that enlarges and deafens manic pleasure that spins and spins in eternal circles of pleasure and pain, loss  and gain opioid mists that dream a dream of everlasting name an addiction an obsession that sumbits to some masochistic drive to empathize. - Vijayalakshmi Harish         06.09.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 4:55 AM UTC
a poet is...
There is a cat in my home, and slowly it has grown fatter from feasting on food that I own. I go to work every day, so theres no possible way that this cat could look for pray. Yet still, somehow, when I return, he's stuffed. Belly filled with pizza crust he looks as if he'll bust. Somehow he finds a way outside, where he roams to neighbors homes to fill up on old turkey bones. Second breakfast and for lunch this hungry cat would munch, till diner came, then the game would change and just like that this cat would be back. In the morning when I leave, this cat would beg that I come home with fishes. The begging grew bad, so I'de do exactly as she wishes. Heres the trouble: I feed her once, shes still hungry, so i feed her double. Hours of her mighty meow. Her, just sitting there constantly, bellowing just like a cow, until I provide her with her chow. Now, I tried feeding her less and getting her to run but Im just competing with my stress when that cats not having fun. She would sit and moan, Oh the noises she'd groan as Ide remove her from the cushion she had claimed as her thrown. After this cat had Disowned me, I had learned just like that, that infact it was actualy the cat who had owned me. See cats are a beast of nature, there a creature that can not be tampered. So when theyve been pampered and foods been delivered, you can bet a strong bet that this cat will expect to be treated with the  best packaged liver from a duck that Wal-Mart can deliver.
0
Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC
Cat
Hello my name is Anorexia I will make you an obsessive freak You will hate yourself I will make you hungry and weak I will turn your meat to bones You will lose excessive weight You must be super skinny Food you must hate Skinny is perfect So your diet is strict You live struggling Because you are an addict Do not eat breakfast The scale numbers matter Do not eat lunch Do not get fatter I promise to make you beautiful I am your best friend I will make you so skinny Even if your life might end
0
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
Anorexia
The rabbit haunts from a distance, patrolling fields for one to bear witness. Gracefully the tenderfoot stalks, keeping a watchful eye out for Mr.Fox. The creature walks with a slight limp, other animals often call him a gimp. This way, that way, it all seems wrong, keeping time with a lost robin's song. His home constructed as a single story wonder, located within a large tree laying asunder. Family life wasn't right, as fleeting an image as a wayward kite. A field mouse, left without spouse, Stumbled upon the home in a tree, accompanied by a group of songbirds filled with glee. The field mouse was asked to go, the creature in response, simply said no. A man stumbled up, as mad as a hatter, his portly girth made it hard to imagine being any fatter. He spoke of intrinsic right, boundless visions beyond sight. Told the rabbit he had a duty to the mouse, saying it immoral to deprive him of a house. The rabbit, reluctant to accept , found out from the man of the true evils in neglect. He was told that he didn't own the home, it had simply been gifted as a goodwill loan. That meant it was as his as much as the rabbits, regardless of any perspective habits. With that the moused moved in, and brought with him his prized snakeskin. Over a meal the mouse spoke of danger, coming in the form of a wandering stranger. He told the rabbit, this creature travelled light, but usually shrouded in the cover of night. Said the creature was not large in size, though his methods of thievery seemed quite wise. The rabbit recoiled in his chair, as the field mouse offered up a demonic glare. The field mouse grinned from ear to ear, sensing this rabbit's new grasp on fear. Pulling the snakeskin from his sack, the dried shell was quick to crack. The mouse spoke of a brave duel, between him and this monster, which had downed a mule. He used every ounce of his cunning, and sent the legless beat running. It wasn't good enough for the mouse, who was certainly no louse. He tracked the snake for six long hours, through a field of partially bloomed flowers. In the end he killed the snake, then took its skin so listeners knew the tale wasn't fake. He held the skin, I mean the mouse, and said he'd hang the shell within the house. Mr. Rabbit was found dead two days after, his body lay desecrated next to the snakes, hanging from a rafter.
0
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
Colonialism (Coquille River, Oregon) (1854)
The rabbit haunts from a distance, patrolling fields for one to bear witness. Gracefully the tenderfoot stalks, keeping a watchful eye out for Mr.Fox. The creature walks with a slight limp, other animals often call him a gimp. This way, that way, it all seems wrong, keeping time with a lost robin's song. His home constructed as a single story wonder, located within a large tree laying asunder. Family life wasn't right, as fleeting an image as a wayward kite. A field mouse, left without spouse, Stumbled upon the home in a tree, accompanied by a group of songbirds filled with glee. The field mouse was asked to go, the creature in response, simply said no. A man stumbled up, as mad as a hatter, his portly girth made it hard to imagine being any fatter. He spoke of intrinsic right, boundless visions beyond sight. Told the rabbit he had a duty to the mouse, saying it immoral to deprive him of a house. The rabbit, reluctant to accept , found out from the man of the true evils in neglect. He was told that he didn't own the home, it had simply been gifted as a goodwill loan. That meant it was as his as much as the rabbits, regardless of any perspective habits. With that the moused moved in, and brought with him his prized snakeskin. Over a meal the mouse spoke of danger, coming in the form of a wandering stranger. He told the rabbit, this creature travelled light, but usually shrouded in the cover of night. Said the creature was not large in size, though his methods of thievery seemed quite wise. The rabbit recoiled in his chair, as the field mouse offered up a demonic glare. The field mouse grinned from ear to ear, sensing this rabbit's new grasp on fear. Pulling the snakeskin from his sack, the dried shell was quick to crack. The mouse spoke of a brave duel, between him and this monster, which had downed a mule. He used every ounce of his cunning, and sent the legless beat running. It wasn't good enough for the mouse, who was certainly no louse. He tracked the snake for six long hours, through a field of partially bloomed flowers. In the end he killed the snake, then took its skin so listeners knew the tale wasn't fake. He held the skin, I mean the mouse, and said he'd hang the shell within the house. Mr. Rabbit was found dead two days after, his body lay desecrated next to the snakes, hanging from a rafter.
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29
Mythically attractive This spellbinding October night Uncountable stars The moon shining vividly bright The autumn leaves whisper As they gracefully slither on down The harvest we’ve gathered Has our hearts waxing fatter The lure of sweet passion The magic that happens uptown Jack o’lanterns and witches Young hearts superstitious Goblins and ghosts Are the parties’ creepiest hosts around We all take our place At the feast as we haste To go forth where old spirits abound
0
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 8:24 AM UTC
SEASONS EVE
My hands are shaking; I Can't seem to catch my breath. Something inside me tells me this is okay; That this is necessary for me. She must hate me if she thinks this is okay, Something so cruel, telling me "don't eat, you'll get fatter, no one will like you" Food is my nightmare, food is my saviour. I can't help but to deny myself from it though. I might need help, but who will save me from myself? This may sound cliche, but feeling fat is what I despise, I constantly am blaming myself for the feeling of "fat" But, what is fat compared to health ?
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Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
fat fat fat
I bought a brand new pillow It looks really nice It's pink and oh so fluffy I can't wait to give it a try It's been a tiring day I'm feeling rather dead I think I'll head off now To rest my weary head NOM! NOM! NOM! What the Hell is happening? Where has my hair gone? Why is my pillow growling? And what is it chewing on? I tell myself it's not real And lay back down to dream But then I feel teeth on my head And I can't help but scream NOM! NOM! NOM! My pillow really is eating And I'm now missing a nose The pillow's getting fatter As it's belly grows I try to run away from it But the fluffiness darts across the room It's gnashing at my toes This fluffy pillow of doom NOM! NOM! NOM! I think I'll test things out Before buying any more bedding I think I've finally lost the plot This pillow's done my head in I set the thing on fire And ripped it into shreds There's no way I'm letting That thing back under my head! -Harry Potter reference: I just realized after posting this that with no hair or nose, I would look like Voldemort!-
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Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC
The Fluffy Pillow of DOOOOM!
Focusing on outer beauty Watching YouTube tutorials for hours on end Trying to learn how to contour so u can fit in Going out to buy a waist trainer So you can get thin Using snapchat filters to have lighter skin You don't need a fatter *** darling You need to read better books Try to improve your mind Instead of your looks Physical appearance will only get you so far Without all the superficial Do you even know who you are? Underneath the facade can you even recognize yourself? What's the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word wealth? Do you think of money or jewels or fancy new whips? Or an abundance of knowledge and maintaining meaningful relationships? I refuse to ever be the pretty girl with no purpose Cause at the end of the day, outer beauty is worthless. Being pretty is cool, but I'd rather be smart bc bad ******* are everywhere It's my mind that sets me Apart.
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Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 4:00 AM UTC
Don't be the Pretty girl with no purpose
This was a story of letting go and moving on. I was eating my heart out of cups of rice with nilagang baboy on the right side of my medium-sized plate. I was happy, it wasn't just of my almost-full tummy. It was that of enjoying myself without restraining to the possibility of getting myself fatter as if I'm fat enough to worry or worse, that getting fat was even possible. Diet was never something I waste my time worrying, I act as if it was never existing. But boom! My nilagang baboy was gone. I was so blown away with my happy thoughts I hadn't notice I have eaten them all. I was about to get sad and push myself to stop until I heard my dad, "sisig coming up". I knew right there & then, there's a purpose to every letting go, moving on. So, do.
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Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 9:15 PM UTC
Food and Life
{•} unwanted love we, the human counting crows, tracking everything, steps, bank balances, heartbeats & especially, those dastardly calories that need burning pre yoga, her morning banana, she takes but a half, and looks to unload the balance on a sucker/victim in the vicinity because a whole is greater than a half, and God knows a whole could make you fatter! fully prepared for her desperate supplication, reply so quick, "you're forcing me to eat unwanted calories," she crestfallen, near to weeping from guilty feelings, a crime so heinous! but more than ready, added words, prepared years ago: *but to save your life gladly give you any body part, step in front of a vehicle, for a certain somebody, you may know, to preserve, life and liberty, put up with your inanities, border-lining on insanities,* answer your questions before you think of them, *and will restrict my singing to sole showers in the basement but never will I eat for two, that so undesirable, in the name of love* to which she came to my bedside, kissed my nose, whispering, "thank you for my life saving," while stuffing my mouth with said weapon, "thank you again, please don't make this into a poem"* somedays you just ain't gonna win, you see she loves me too well and knows my answers before I do...
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Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 10:31 AM UTC
wanted: unwanted love
Love...still a token of existence, your Merciful Testament made time so distant. The Heart of Man is now hollow and dark, living is a mere breath of chance and luck. Our Planet has lost its Heroes now, ask our parents, all the Bikos now lay on pillows coz of the Ones and Zeros. I still Love my World and your eminence Lord or maybe you to Priests and Presidents more. These words are not to be written once again, they exist only in the truth and light of this page once and never again. For I'm not proud of the latter...people's vices as hate surfaces, you would expect something better. Kids perish, always in harm's way, deem the manner...nowadays, parents are kids on an Aids' ladder. Envision the World and Pray, when you see through the eyes of a Kid who's a bit fatter. Food shortage on the News footage while we hold our plates, carnage and wars killing our foliage, we hold a future without days. As vanity reigns, I fear our image will grow mutant. Ancestors will abandon our sanity ways like a school headed by students, weak and lucent. I pray for core amends dearly and hope for better trends Earthly and in the Sea, so this Letter can just be a lonely message in a bottle drifting away steadily in the deep... Sincerely yours, Oasis
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 3:47 AM UTC
Letter
**~~~~~Spoilers Ahead~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~** Didn’t know SH was so amazing, A second degree mind palace, He was keeping. What we watched in an hour, And were perplexed by, for days, Had taken place in his mind, In mere 300 seconds! Baffled with the news of return of Moriarty, He decides to solve a similar case, That had occurred 120 years ago. He recreates his whole life, Complete, With Irene’s photograph, In his pocket watch. Fits all the pieces in 1895, All, Including John’s witty wife, Then enters the ‘cleverer one’, And fatter this time, Having already made a theory, He asks Sherlock to do the leg-work, Because Mycroft himself is busy, Trying to beat his little brother. The game is afoot again, All in Sherlock’s complex brain, He exposes the truth, Of Mrs. Ricoletti’s death, Just as he was about to know about Moriarty’s, He’s is woken by his friend. But he goes back again, To complete the story. To solve the mystery, He goes to the Falls, To again finish the problem, The final problem. But this time John interrupts, In 1895, And kicks Moriarty off the cliff, To let Mr. Holmes happily, alone, Complete the fall. Now he returns to the present, With a smile conveying I-know-it-all, And he does know all about the villain, His death, his plans, And the rest.
0
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 3:19 AM UTC
The Abominable Bride: Sherlock in the 19th Century
one undead sed to one too undead: "id **** for a romancer whos a necromancer."     Well, abracadabra with just an ounce of my magic i produce half a cadavre and then the other half grab it and shake it until it blabbers: "well im awake but id rather be underground with dead matter." and though ive never been sadder i had to grab her and stab her a thousand times in such patterns that all was left were mere tatters, talk about beaten and battered as all the pieces were scattered (i made em smaller and flatter til they looked good so i blabbered): "you look amazing"- "im flattered" she sed but that didnt matter. im just a ****** whos madder than Hell oh well whats it matter the feelings of a mad hatter madder than other mad hatters collaboratively dont matter in fact the maddest just happens to have had all his dreams shattered. evacuate bowels and bladder. souls eaten, demons get fatter, eternal state of dead palar, dying in Hell, almost had her. god ****
0
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 3:59 AM UTC
The Magic Mike!
I feel so alone like I'm trapped in my home. and these thoughts in my head tell me I ought a be dead. I ******* **** at this **** "No you don't you're just tired." "Everyone loves you, cant you see you're admired?" But I don't believe what I conceive in my dreams. So you must be a liar. This isn't how things in this life should have been. My soul is on fire. This isn't how things in this life could have been. My soul is on fire. But I don't believe what I perceive in front of me. Sands of time made from liquid-solid-matter. People flowing like atoms recycling motions. I know in my mind that things don't really matter. Climbing the planet and mapping the oceans. I would loose my mind if my brain got any fatter. People flowing like atoms recycling motions.
0
Apr 4, 2022
Apr 4, 2022 at 8:59 AM UTC
Not Welcome
My tummy rumbles rolling into bed with you, before a big test and when I think about my future. It twists at the thought of lazy summer days and time away from school and stress and sadness. With new years come new resolutions and new people in and out of my life. It comes with people pandering for weight loss, new jobs and fatter wallets. I sit and stare at the girl with a sizable waist line, bigger heart and even bigger brain. I stare at a girl who works hard for what she has and harder for the ones she cares about.
0
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 1:37 AM UTC
Stomach Ache
Pound after wretched pound. i live on the scale. the pain in my receding belly becomes comfort. the mirror tells me I'm fat. but when i lay curled up in bed, i feel so small. so insignificant. so imperfect. concern from friends and family, worried doctors, they're working against me. i thought they wanted to help, but ana whispered the truth in my ear. they want me fatter. why else would they shove food at me. months after i met ana. I'm thinner. no, not happy, but im reaching my goal. she helps me. she haunts me. I'm slower. I'm hurting. I'm never good enough for her. try harder. eat less. If you don't feel fragile, you're probably fat. i can't escape her. I'm so hungry. I'm so cold. I'm so alone. everything makes me angry. why bother living? I don't care if I die as long as I'm thin. The doctors said I might die anyways. All I have left is ana. her hold on me is strong. stronger than me. being thin is all that matters. not love. not life. not even family. they just want to make me fat and I would rather die.
0
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 10:22 PM UTC
Ana
Our relationship was strong many things happened this year I dont know quite where it all went wrong I try to connect with you but you cut me done Make it all about you You say I'm making something out of nothing but that impossible you can only make a something out of other somethings ..... You are my something I built my life around you If you liked it,I liked it if you hated it,I hated it too But I guess it doesnt matter The only conversations we have now is if i lost weight or am fatter Your love is conditional i just want to be myself even if its not traditional When did you stop loving me for me ? I gave my life you to I thought living for you was my destiny You say I'm selfish but im alway hiding my feelings, crys and desires from you To be a good daughter was my only wish Now I just crave acceptance I cant live in your shadow Im done... Ive served my 18 year sentence
0
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 12:26 AM UTC
Something
I love anagrams as they speak the satirical truth (I know tons of anagrams) E.g. Here is a great example of how anagrams work for say making a person younger if overweight. 1 A pirate says Yo ** ** then drinks *** so avoid ***** it makes us older and fatter, right? He becomes an old fatty pirate right? Angry grumpy nasty etc... 2 Magellan was a pirate in search of the fountain of youth, right? 3 Watch this magic anagram Yo ** ** tune unfit fat = The fountain of youth Same exact letters switched around DaVe
0
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 11:37 PM UTC
The Fountain of Youth (revealed)
The earth’s been our playground, beautiful and vast. A utopian world on which the human race was cast. In the sliver of time, we’ve been an industrial culture We’ve preyed on her resources like a ravenous vulture. A carnivore hunting for bigger and fatter game, All in the guise of improving and seeking for fame. Inventors create contraptions and devices, Never bothering to notice how much smaller the ice is. Carbon is aplenty, spewing forth in filthy emission Ozone suffering from man with limited vision. Many animals hunted to extinction, and more on the way Ecologists fight to be heard, to government's policies sway Our waters suffer abuse and lose their purity Advances in culture, lend earth no security Oil and garbage circle the earth killing the wildlife off it, Inventions and efforts to save us, offer no profit. Efforts must be made to lower and stop pollution   All species soon will be dead without a solution. Let’s work together and help clean mother earth. What’s our future generations’ health really worth? A partner we should be, and not a voracious parasite, We are cognizant beings; we should know to do what’s right. Love the earth, give back more than you take, Do it now, do it fast, for our children’s sake.
0
May 4, 2010
May 4, 2010 at 6:55 AM UTC
Mother Earth