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Ayad Gharbawi Dec 2009
THE STORY OF SARA

OR A REFLECTION ON OURSELVES

Ayad Gharbawi

Chapter 4: THE HALLOWED PURIFICATION PROGRAMME




  One night, Omar began to thunder on:
  "No more of the disgusting concepts and ideas created by the Pigs! We should eliminate from our minds every single Pig that is influencing you, and I must say to you all, that I'm not seeing any progress."
  The audience suddenly went all quiet.
  Our leader was not satisfied with our emotional progress.
  We were not purifying our minds in a manner and speed that was satisfactory to the Great Noble Leader Omar.
  "I am looking at you all. I see you; yes, I, Omar, see each one of you. Your eyeballs seem to me to be unsure of what's behind them – I mean, your brains."
  Omar's voice began to talk in a tone that was almost a whisper, whilst the vast audience strained their ears to catch his every precious word.
  "And inside your brains lies our minds. Well, I'm talking about your minds, my friends. I'm not seeing progress. Yes, you do this riot; you **** this Pig; you burn this Pig school – and all of these acts are crucial to our holy cause. But, what about you yourselves? What about your own minds? Maybe you, too, are tainted with some of the Pig mentality yourselves? Now, how about that? Yes? What do you think?"
  The audience gasped.
  Omar began to raise his voice again.
  He was taunting this audience.
  Mocking them.
  Sarcastic.
  "Why, you really are telling me, that you think and feel and believe, that you have the right to **** Pigs?"
  At this question, Omar stopped.
  The audience gasped louder.
  I knew what they were thinking.
  Is our Great Noble Leader questioning our faith in him and in the cause itself?!
  He screamed, almost blowing away the microphones!
  "Why, who gives you the right to be soldiers in this unforgiving, merciless and ferocious war we are waging every day against vastly superior forces? I'll tell you 'who' gives you that right."
  The audience waited in tense anticipation at our leader's answer.
  It was so silent in this vast stadium, you could hear a pin fall.
  "What gives every man, woman and child the right to be a soldier in this brutal struggle is when that soldier has the purest heart and mind. It's as simple as that. And to be 'pure', my friends tonight, is the one who has not a shred, and does not have one ounce of Pig matter. That's right, you heard. Pig matter. Any dog that has even a fleeting Pig thought, is a Pig him or herself!"
  The audience now began to whisper among themselves.
  They seemed to be receiving the light from the words being delivered by Omar.
  Many were saying among themselves, that, 'Yes, we do have Pig thought and ideas and emotions and feelings in our hearts.'


  Omar continued, in a soft voice, after allowing his audience to digest his last words:
  "Yes, that does come as a surprise to you, doesn't it?"
  "Yes!" roared back the audience who now fully submitted to his question and answer.
  "So, I ask you – who are you?" he screamed!
  And the crowds immediately screamed:
  "Pigs! Pigs! Pigs! We are ***** Pigs!"
  Again and again, the crowd seemed to be going a little bit hysterical.
  Some began tearing off their clothes, as if they were trying to 'cleanse' themselves from their Pig thoughts!
  "That's right!" screamed back Omar, furiously and wildly staring with those maniacal eyeballs, like some trapped, ferocious animal, at his audience:
  "Why you yourselves are Pigs! That's right! Come on now! So, what are going to do about you? If you give yourselves the 'right' to **** Pigs, then why don't I have the same 'right' to order my best elite troops to **** you too?"
  "Save us! Save us!" screamed back the audience.
  "Save yourselves!" Omar screamed right back.
  "We are filthy! We are Pigs!" the audience began to insult themselves in all sorts of words and phrases.
  At this point, Omar was shrieking!
  "That's right! You are filthy Pigs yourselves, aren't you now?”
  The audience continued to scream and you couldn’t understand what they were saying anymore.
  Omar went just as suddenly silent.
  He just looked at his followers, and allowed them the need to express themselves.
  After some twenty minutes o this chaotic screaming, Omar became impatient and quickly motioned his followers to be quiet.
  Silence.
  He continued, with a soft tone:
  “So, I hereby announce the following."
  Once again the entire audience become tense.
  What was Omar going to order now?
  "I hereby allow you all, and I mean all our soldiers and not just those sitting with me here in this stadium; I order all of our soldiers to purify themselves of every Pig matter. You will have three months. And then, after that term ends, we will establish courts, to decide wether you have succeeded in cleaning yourselves from these cancerous and murderous feelings and emotions you have. Our courts and our hallowed judges will next decide, case by case, wether you are clean or not!"


  Later, when it appeared that our mostly pathetic, ***** and sick 'soldiers' were simply unable to cleanse their minds from the Pig establishment in three months – since they had no instructions or guidance - Omar, in his eternal grace, patience and humanity, decided to help them, by allowing classes to be held where one teacher would help each and everyone to 'cleanse' themselves.
  Personally, I thought that our Great Noble Leader was decidedly wrong in being so gracious to these so-called soldiers, because, in my opinion, this lot were not worthy of being in our party, and they ought to have been immediately expelled.
  "But, Sara," Omar would gently explain to me in his humble office, surrounded by his most trusted officers, "if we were to purge every undesirable element in the party, I would be left with practically nobody!"
  I took in his gracious words. and then thought about it.
  Why, he was correct, yet again, in his thinking!
  Indeed, if we did purify our party from the filthy ones, we would be left with little more than a handful of true, faithful and clean combatants and that, obviously, meant our self-destruction!
  "You're right, Sir; as usual, I think too hastily. That's why you are the only leader for us; my God, if I, God forbid, were leader, why I would have destroyed the party and our eternally holy cause years ago!"
  "Indeed, indeed, my dear," Omar softly said, but he seemed to have already forgotten my words, and, he was already somewhere else, thinking deeply about another problem.
  And so I, of course, went silent, so as not to disturb him.


  "You know what?" suddenly he asked me, his eyes sparkling with passion.
  "Yes, Sir?"
  "These 'classes' I was talking about. You've studied psychiatry, and I believe that we must use psychiatric methods to purify my subjects."
  Suddenly a strange feeling overcame me; I found the word describing the party members as 'my subjects' a little bit odd.
  Also, didn't Omar call psychiatry a Pig subject for all those years? Indeed, he said everything they taught us at university was evil, and that even the institutions of universities were dens of evil. And, yet, now, he was asking me to help him using what I was learning from my university days?
  "Yes, I can see the path I am talking about Sara. We need to get psychiatrists, like yourself, to tear out, yes, tear out, the filthiness in our party members."
  Suddenly, he got quite excited by his visions.
  "That's right, my dearest one, Sara. Yes, and I appoint you to supervise this programme of purification. That's right, and I shall call it by its simplest name, the 'Programme of Purification'!"
  Suddenly, I got excited as well, forgetting my previous disturbance.
  "That would be such a heroic move on your part, Sir." I gleefully told Omar.
  I feel that not only was he the saviour for our nation, but that he was also a personal saviour for myself.
  "Yes, I see my vision where it is leading us to. My dear Sara; you will set up these classes and you will bring the psychiatrists and you will purify the ***** elements in our classes."
  I got nervous again, for I just realized the magnitude of the job Saviour Omar was demanding I do for him!
  "And therefore, I Omar call for an immediate ceasefire against all Pigs!"
  Everyone in the office stood there in a state of shock!
  A ceasefire against the damnable Pigs?!
  Holy Omar could, of course, read our faces and smiled.
  "But Holy Sir," one officer softly asked, "how can we have a ceasefire against the most evil forces in the history of our country?"
  "And, Sir," asked another officer, "if we stop our eternally pure and humanistic battle against the disease-ridden pigs, wouldn't the latter take that as a sign of weakness on our part?"
  Next, saviour Omar raised his hand.
  Everyone went silent.
  He looked at us.
  There were no words from his mouth.
  We waited humbly.
  Geniuses take their time to formulate the right structure of words, not because they don't know what to say, but they do so that we fools can understand what they have to say.
  It is out of concern for us.
  Omar finally spoke:
  My clean, pure soldiers. We must declare a ceasefire, for I have no other choice. As a humanist, how can I allow impure elements from our party to fight and **** Pigs, when they themselves are still 'impure'? Where is the morality in that?"
  Suddenly, I couldn't help but feel such fanatical love for this man; I can only describe his man and his words, as pieces of Heaven coming down to us inferior beings, and if we are decent, then we must grab every shred and piece that he utters, so we can, in turn, save our impure souls.
  "Beautiful thoughts indeed, my Gracious Leader!" I said.
  Then I turned to the listeners:
   "What's wrong with the rest of you? If, one of our 'own' party members was impure, then by what right does he and she have to fight and **** Pigs? We must cease all out activities, until we have a purified party! It's simple and obvious!"
  Thereupon followed silence.


I was speaking the obvious.
  Finally, a voice spoke:
  "So, how exactly are these psychologists going to 'purify' the 'minds' of our party members?"
Good question – one that I had not thought about.
  Indeed, how, and by what means, were we going to purify the undesirables?
  And then, just at the right moment, Omar spoke his words:
  "Yes, that is a great question. There's no use giving orders that no one knows how they are to be carried out. You see, it will not only be the job of psychiatrists who will purify the filthy ones. No, we will force the filthy ones, to ***** out every filthy thought, feeling, and idea; and we shall make sure that all these impure thoughts and feelings and convictions will be screamed out of their minds."
  At that last phrase, once again, I found myself pausing and thinking, what an odd thing to say!
  I got lost in my thinking.
  After all, Omar always, and I mean always choose his words carefully, for he would always make it a point to be so careful with the choice of his words, so that his credibility would never be in doubt and so people do understand that that he means exactly whatever he says.
  I must confess, I was completely confused.
  On the one hand, I had such deep reverence, complete love and a total need for Omar, and then, there was a part of me, that simply didn’t understand what he was talking about!
  I remembered, once more, how everything was so nice and easy and simple with Tony.
  But, I assume, that Tony was a general doctor, whereas Omar was a surgeon, and so, with Omar, we had to face a far more complex situation.
  "What do you mean by that, Sir?" asked one of the officers, waking me up from my thoughts.
  "I mean, it shall be the duty of every party member to purify every other party member. We must all be psychiatrists! This will be done, of course, under the supervision of the leader psychiatrist in each class. He or she will guide you, as to how to get every party member to rip out every Pig attribute in our party members. It's as simple as that."
  At that, Omar gestured to indicate that the meeting was over, and so we left.
  I kept thinking that his idea was, I'm sure, utterly brilliant, but how in practice were going to do this?


  He left his office far too soon.
  We had too many questions to ask, and yet, by leaving us, Omar was, in effect, giving us a 'programme' to do, but without clear, precise orders.
  So, how were we going to carry out his orders?
  What did he mean that 'we must all become psychiatrists'!
  That was absolutely absurd!
  Untrained people cannot simply 'become' psychiatrists, even if they are 'led' by psychiatrists – or to use Omar's words, to be 'guided' by psychiatrists.
  So, Omar's idea seemed to me, to be really a recipe for a catastrophe for our party.
  The more I thought of it, the more I found my mind asking myself the question: why was Omar insisting on this 'purification programme' in the first place?
  Couldn't the party and its members simply continue the struggle, without having to enforce this ridiculous programme?
  And didn't Omar realize that his insistence on us carrying out his orders to do the purification programme, was going to cause absolute chaos, disruption and ultimately mass desertions and expulsions from our party?
  In other words, Omar's sudden 'need' to 'purify' our own members seemed to me to be a self destructive act that would seriously damage the party.


The ceasefire announcement was barely noticed by the Pigs – which came as a shock to many of us.
  The government didn't seem to actually care at our ceasefire announcement.
  Indeed, the Pigs declared that what they termed as the 'social troubles' was, in effect, 'over' and so, therefore, the country could breathe a sigh of relief, and people could now be 'happy'.
  I didn't believe what the government was saying.
  I was of course nauseated by the hypocrisy of the Pig leaders, because, their pronouncements were lies, as usual, and they would of course, continue their merciless war against us, while we had to cease our fire.
  Yes, Leader Omar was probably correct, but I was **** frustrated, because it seemed to me, for the first time since I joined the party, that the Pigs may now well win the struggle.
  It was obvious to me!
  For how on planet earth could we 'win' a war, when we were not allowed to fight, while the same eternal enemy would continue his war against us?!
  Also, to be very honest, I'm not sure that we could 'purify' Pigs in the first place.
  It seemed to me to be a contradiction!
  I would simply have to swallow whatever Leader Omar ordered us to do.
  God knows, he's proven to be correct every time before, and maybe, he will confound us once more with his superior wisdom.
  Have faith, Sara, have faith!
  Never question the Great Leader, for he is superior to all of us; after all, that’s why he’s the ‘Great Leader’ in the first place!
  Keep the faith!
  How can we understand what a su
The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak
If we continue this way, the future is bleak.
Be ye drunk with the spirit
Here we are drunk with whiskey.
Sensuality burning hot even in sleep
With corrupt minds open to sin
She walks in and contaminates
With venomous eggs hatching death…
I wish the flesh couldn't inspire me to lust and boast myself when high or drunk.
We lied we need change
When all we feel is rage
For the government we create
Who don’t feel shake if the economical price inflate

We lied we are happy
When we hide in the bathroom; crying
We lied we are living
When we are striving for surviving

We lied we are grown
When we are yet to be birth
We lied we are strong
And here we are; paralysed

We lied we are in traffic
When we’re still on our bed dreaming
We lied we are set
When with default setting; we’re breathing

We lied we want about-move
From politics of Jong-Un
From government of John Bull
And parliaments filled with masters of Kungfu

We lied we are in love
When the only thing we feel is lust
We lied we are loved
When the only feeling we procure is hurt

We lied we are loyal
When we lust only after the royal one
We lied we are loyal
And when the ox is gored; we run

We lied we are in paradise
When in filthiness we dine
Stuck in a big mess
Living in hell; but not minding our business

We lied we are responsible
When at the sight of challenge; we flee
We lied we are smart
Whereas we are trickening; coz at the sight of themisticoles; we flee

We lied we are beautiful
When our heart is filled with greed and hate
We lied we are pretty
When the pancaked look on our face is manmade

We lied we are the future
Saying we are the leaders of tomorrow
We lied; saying we are injured
Whereas we’re completely trapped in hollow

We lied we’re from the hood
So no one else to talk to
Coz our lifestyle is not good
And that leaves us in bad mood

We lied we are good
When at the depth of our heart; we’re bad
We lied we are confuse
When we’re stuck and which way? We cant conclude
*
We lied to survive the tide
And from the real part of life; we hide
Tell the truth’ man; be freed inside
SC Kelley Aug 2018
You’re like a storm.

But in the best and most beautiful way.

The kind of storm that happens all of a sudden on the most average of days.

You’re like a hurricane coming into my life and tearing away the ugly grey buildings and leaving only the green freedom to overgrow my heart again.

Like a thunderstorm that pours out love filled raindrops to fill my soul and grow back the childlike happiness that's slowly been deprived of its pure ecstasy.

Like the tsunami-sized tidal waves that wash away my lost ambitions and filthiness.

A blizzard that whitewashes my view with your unmistakable perfection and pulchritude.

The flash flood that appeared into my life at the snap of a finger and since that death-defyingly moment my love for you has only grown.

You’re the faultless storm that has taken my heart, life, and soul into steady hands and locked them all within yourself.

Since then, I’ve never looked back and never will.

You’re the perfect storm.

~S.C. Kelley
For My Love
(Ezekiel, xxxvi. 25-28)

The Lord proclaims His grace abroad!
"Behold, I change your hearts of stone;
Each shall renounce his idol-god,
And serve, henceforth, the Lord alone.

"My grace, a flowing stream, proceeds
To wash your filthiness away;
Ye shall abhor your former deeds,
And learn my statutes to obey.

"My truth the great design ensures,
I give myself away to you;
You shall be mine, I will be yours,
Your God unalterably true.

"Yet not unsought or unimplored,
The plenteous grace I shall confer;
No -- your whole hearts shall seek the Lord,
I'll put a praying spirit there.

"From the first breath of life divine
Down to the last expiring hour,
The gracious work shall all be mine,
Begun and ended in my power."
Hilda May 2013
1 Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear children;
2 And walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us and hath given Himself for us an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet smelling savour.
3 But fornication and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not be once named among you, as becometh saints.
4 Neither filthiness nor foolish talking nor jesting, which are not convenient, but rather giving of thanks.
5 For this ye know, that no whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idolater, hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.
6 Let no man deceive you with vain words; for because of these things cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience.
7 Be not ye therefore partakers with them.
8 For ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord; walk as children of light;
9 For the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness and righteousness and truth;
10 Proving what is acceptable unto the Lord,
11 And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them.
I realize this is not "a verse for today" but several verses, yet wanted to share this with you, inspired by my dear husband Timothy for writing "verse for today" and also Somethingweknewwasours for her personal testimony I want to say thank you! also to you dear daughter, Marian, for encouraging me in the beginning to post these testimonies.... Last but not least, our dear sister who encouraged us saying she always starts her day with the Bible because it is as vitamins. "Man shall not live by bread alone but by every word which proceedeth out of the mouth of God.
Chloe M Teng Apr 2015
Do you see that old man
filthy and wrinkled on the street
he's a statue where the feet often steps
and yet his soul never did leave

Do you see that young lady
Pained and teared in her heart
sitting by the lonely bench
her eyes teary, staring at the sun

Have you seen that small child
cold and starved by his fate
drinking water despite its filthiness
smiling despite the cruelty of the world

How many unspoken words are there
roaming around in the thin air
knowing how large the world is
Yet the love is so small, so rare

Knowing how heartless people can be
knowing that their beloved ones left
and yet they wore shades of smile
With their unspoken words behind everything else
"We can do no great things, just small things with great love." -Mother Teresa
MBJ Pancras Dec 2011
What I choose I plan to do and with Satan's trap,
What I think I hesitate to choose but troubled by Satan's trap,
When I forget the Word of God I derive pleasure by  Satan's trap,
When I feel God's Grace below my soul I bargain my soul with  Satan,
How I play with God's patience that with the tool of Satan,
How I use  Satan's tool that with my love of the world,
Why I love the world of filthiness that I fail to pray,
Why I fail to pray is that laziness has sneaked into my soul,
Where I look for the place to pray that I find nowhere to do so,
Wherefore time and place are no where found but in one's soul.

Let me drop myself into the Arms of God in Christ,
And look upon Him on the Cross where His Blood still flow afresh,
And each drop of His Blood is for my sins to be cleansed.

'O, Lord! Give me strength to resist temptation and sin!
In Christ Jesus
Fallen into Satan's trap!
Doll Hardcore Apr 2014
The makings-
all man-made illusions
Artificial lights
that imtitate my insides,
and they're hollow
like these ****** holes in my head.
  
When I die,
I want to stay here.  
  
It's the only place my soul has ever felt safe.
The only place I truly fit.
  
I belong.
  
It cradles my existence.
  
I am property...
"The ***** of morbid light"
  
Wrapped up
in it's blinding,
beautiful energy
I'm the cherry inside of the emptiness.
  
Contribution to completion.
  
This is where I thrive...
In dead silence and isolation.

Fueled by adverse thoughts,
I ******,
bend
and **** my mind
as my ink tube spits black -
  
Pure sinister damage.
  
I lick the pages.
kiss the letters.
and embrace the constant supply.
  
Call it a soul-******* abyss if you'd like -
  
I'm still alive.
  
Dancing in this inffected nature,
getting drunk on filthiness,
sleeping around with insane company
and waking up with all types of diseases.
  
But I'm not afraid...
  
  
*I'm inspired.
Moments when my poetry comes from hard times and an unhealthy mentality.. That is the only good thing about depression. (& other things of the sort) My pen spews the darkest and sickest of ink. I am able to write... raw and uncut. I can unmask the beauty in darkness.
Sade LK Sep 2014
I wanted to watch a movie.
Knew you would appreciate horror.
Figured you could use some company
And I could use a nice entertainment system.
So I drove out to your house
Where no one ever goes
Cause you're always all alone
And I felt bad for you.
We smoked a bowl and that was fine.
I was already strung out and we
Went into your kitchen
You gave me candy and a coke.
Downstairs you let me pick the horror flick
I sat at a comfortable distance
Across the couch.
You said, " Sit closer."
I could feel your loneliness
Burning through my skin with
The way you looked at me.
So I moved a little closer but kept my
Torso as far away as possible,
Kept my eyes focused on the movie
Even when your hand crept across
My belly, I was
Extremely uncomfortable, and it
Was not because I am self conscious.
I was nervous,
But not because I liked you, I just
Felt bad for you, and so I didn't push you away.
I should have.
Credits rolled and I almost ******* ran
For the door.
I knew you wanted more, you
Stood behind me and grabbed my
Waist, pushed me into your room and said,
"Stay with me."
I half stumbled and sat on your bed.
It was comfortable, but I got
Up and grabbed my stuff.
Making excuses as you picked out my
Pajamas, you said,
"It's a long drive, don't use anymore drugs tonight,
We don't have to have ***, if that's what you were thinking."
I should have left. I should have left. I should have left.
But I put the pajamas on, even after several sayings of,
"I don't want to."
I laid on the opposite side of the bed.
Said, "Let's go to sleep."
You pulled me close to you
With a force that was much more frightening
Than that horror movie,
And I froze.
Just like when I was a kid. I laid there
Let you touch me and pretended it was
Just another flashback.
I rolled onto my stomach so there was
Less of me for you to have, but you
Pulled down my pants and took me.
Just like when I was 7,9,10,11,12,13,14,15,16
I told myself, "If you pretend to be numb
You might not feel so much pain."
Thank god you got off quick.
But I should've known you weren't quite finished,
And it happened again, at least I had
Practice giving in and
Blacking out-
Separating mind from body
And they all wonder why I'm so
D i s s c o n e c t e d .
You said, "That's the best I've ever had." They
All
Say
That.
I got up, got dressed in darkness with shaking hands
Searching for something to
Cover my shame.
Angry, you said, "You're just gonna **** me and leave?"
I just wanted to watch that movie.
But all I could feel for you was pity.
And I walked myself out.
Didn't cry in the car,
I never do.
At home I smoked
So
Much
******
That I really hoped it would **** me.
I cut 12 gushing blood gashes
On my arm, the first time in 5 weeks.
I deserved it, needed to be punished
So ******* disgusted by myself for
Letting that happen, again.
All my fault.
Just like when I was 7, and it all started.
Every single time, it was all my fault.
In the shower I desperately tried to
Scrub my sins away
'Til my skin was raw and red,
Wished I could blow my ******* head off of my
Broken body.
Couldn't talk about it for days.
Today I confessed
To a friend who said,
"He ***** you."
But those words make it too real
I cannot deal with that again
Not now, I am not a kid.
Adding 20 to my list.
Adding scars to my wrists.
How to tell my therapist that
Our year of weekly outpatient progress
Has been destroyed in one night.
Wish I'd died when I was 5
The first time I tried on suicide
It was the perfect size that I never could outgrow.
I can't believe I've made it this old.
A shattered spirit, hollow soul.
I wouldn't **** you if I could, because
You'll probably **** yourself
And I feel bad for you.
Cause you probably believed, somehow
That I actually wanted you.
It is only pity that you filled me with
A filthiness that will forever stain my memories.
Scrubbing in showers, but never feeling clean.
It's all my fault, after all.
Maybe I
*Deserved it.
Written September 1st, 2014
Olivia Kent Nov 2013
Lust! (One asterisked bad swear word)!

Lash me not with your tongue.
Tie me up in velvet ribbons.
Soft edged with shiny silk.
Handcuffs you use to keep me trapped.
Be sure you do not lose the key.
A spot of ****** filthiness between only you and me.

Halt me with your kisses
A proper way to spend some time.
Mention not the loving issues.
Bursting out the front.
Taking your loving issue and stuff it up my c**t.
Don't forget the tissues.

As an afterthought.
Use them to dry your sullen tears.
To wipe your eyes, as I am leaving.
After all these years.

Whip cracked undeniably.
Around my bottom cheeks.
While my fist it bled your lips.
Between my nipping teeth.
I bit.
As I made you bleed.
Your request not mine.
Hell boy.
Whatever, your perverse requests.
You are still mighty fine!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Mature audience...one pretty vile expletive...asterisked out! The other side of me LOL x  (NO I'm not really perverse...just fitted the poem)
brandon nagley Feb 2017
Americana, fair Madonna, tell me what's become of you; star's so bright, your war's are polite, as your ripped flag's red, white, and blue. Oh bountiful cities, mountain-told villages; starlit pillages foreshadow your deathly paths. Some books hold secrets, while cake candles burn tricks to cigarettes of nuclear blasts! Afterthought you are oh country tis of thee; so blessed in your filth, your kilts are images of projected misery. Find an Alcove you castleview kings; your tongues will soon be silenced to the non-mindsense you care to bring! Resemble with eachother patriarchs of hatred; national to all stations, you are the one in control. Forget what mother told you? Did you already sell your soul? Instant inhumanness; gratitude for filthiness, they feel for girly magazines. Rescind your rhetoric you false entity of enemies kings. Perch behind the clouds where the guard's can't get you; where pharaoh's confront you, only God knows all time! Subjection to viewest bozos behind bar-reason rhymes. Where are you angel of light? I see your face; or have I taken your place?


©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry
©prison poetry
One of many poems written in my past during a year of prison time. Much time to write behind closed walls and old medieval bars.
I actually switched out the real word to bozos in one of the lines, lol I originally used a-holes but whole word I took it out because I dont like cussing but prison wasn't easy peazee ():
Ellie Geneve Aug 2016
As a child,
I used to run my hands
on the walls as I walked

Adults around
would warn me
about the filthiness
of those dust, graffiti,
*****, and poster covered walls

But touching them gave me
a weird sense of accomplishment
Like physical proof
that I was once here

moving forward

Today
I will not worry
what bacteria
this wall holds
what molds
have aged on its corners

Instead, I'll run my hands
with every step I take

smiling
because I am,
once again,
*moving forward
0418

If the Words I hear aren't from You,
Never let me go.
If it is not for Your glory that I do what I do,
Let me stop here
For me to take a stand for what I truly believe in.

If Your Spirit no longer dwells in me,
Will You satisfy me with Your anointing
As I leave my past behind
And enter Your mercy and be in Your Heaven's place.

If it is not by Your wisdom that I understand things,
Let me not be deceived by the schemes of this world
That I may not trample down every word that You say
And as You speak, it shall be my breath of Life.

If it is not by Your army who rise up for my protection
Where shall I find comfort?
Or to whom say, "My God is my Defender."

If power is given to me
Yet I found You no longer reigning in me
Take away my eyes that make my flesh live in filthiness
That honor and glory be bestowed on Your throne.

I call to You
And for the rest of my Life
Let Me call to You --
Alone and sweet Your Words shall be
I will not be deaf
Let me not be in silence
Let Your Words Speak
This is my call for today.
1 Samuel 26:8-12
Then Abishai said to David, “God has given your enemy into your hand this day. Now please let me pin him to the earth with one stroke of the spear, and I will not strike him twice.” But David said to Abishai, “Do not destroy him, for who can put out his hand against the Lord's anointed and be guiltless?” And David said, “As the Lord lives, the Lord will strike him, or his day will come to die, or he will go down into battle and perish. The Lord forbid that I should put out my hand against the Lord's anointed. But take now the spear that is at his head and the jar of water, and let us go.” So David took the spear and the jar of water from Saul's head, and they went away. No man saw it or knew it, nor did any awake, for they were all asleep, because a deep sleep from the Lord had fallen upon them
Marco ASF Couto Jul 2014
I want to write the story of a ******.
I want to write the story of a writer.
I want to write the story of a dreamer in dispair.
I want to write the story of a lover in Copacabana dreaming with Tokio.
I want to write a story about rain and the smell of wet pavement.
I want to write the story of a street poet who sells poems for food.
I want to write a story about Dublin and it's people.
I want to write a story about bath tubes full of filthiness.
I want to write a story about pub stories.
I want to write a story about how *** is gonna **** us all.
I want to write a story about how you messed up with my head.
I want to write a story that teaches humanity to stop being so naïve.
I want to write a story that teaches me *******.
I want to write a story about how I managed to learn *******.
I want to write a story about how I killed you in my head.
Lila Lily-Thanh Jun 2011
This place has no sympathy for your suffering.
You wonder what has taken you so long to get up and leave.
Your feet are cold, your eyes are frozen.
Even the most burning tears cannot find their way down to your heart.
The pain you know you are supposed to feel is already lost somewhere.
You cannot make out what in you remains with this world
or what is left of this world in you.

The day is over with no opened doors.
You have met the night many times before.
But this time
you no longer look forward to the possibility of a warm smile upon your shattered soul.
Thus you slowly gather your emotions
and dump them into the trash barrel next to your old lover's home
where your laughters of a shared past are replaced by those of a foreign present.
She will never know who left the bag there
or care to find out what could be in it.

Life already left you, but you are not yet touched by death.
Being trapped in between
you still detect momements of images behind your irises,
react miserably to changes in temperature,
smell the filthiness of reality under your eyebrows,
and long to meet with a certain something you have given up waiting for.

This is not what it seems to be,
but you do not know what it is.
What can you do to turn away from being nowhere and feeling only nothingness?
How can you hope for a change if nothing really changes?
Time has fixated you to this confined sensory awareness.
You are you or maybe there has been no you.
What about her? How did she get to where you were before leaving it?
Was she truly there, if thisrighthererightnow is no longer around your last breath?
And is true she is my otherness
But not my alter ego as you may think,
I am her strength, but she is my weakness
I am her herculean device, but she is my Achilles hill,
I am her weapon of life, but she is my poomerang,
I am her riches but she is my poverty,
I am her wisdom, but she is my folly
I am her public dignity, but she is my public shame
I am her solution, but she is my challenge,
I am her peace, but she is my troubles,
I am her light but she is my darkness
I am her love but she is my punishment,
I am her purity, but she is my filthiness
I am her decency, but she is my indecency,
I am her Napoleon, but she is my Josephine,
I am her Adam, but she is my Eve
I am her life but she is my death,
THEREFORE; Be Imitators of GOD as Dear Children.. And walk in Love, as CHRIST also has Loved Us and given Himself for us, an Offering And A Sacrifice to GOD for A Sweet Smelling Aroma... But, Fornication and All Uncleanness or Covetousness, let it not even be named among Thee, as is Fitting for Saints: Neither Filthiness, nor ***** talking, nor Coarse Jesting, which are not Fitting, but rather Giving of Thanks... For this Thou know, that no Fornicator, unclean Kind, nor Covetous Man, who is an Idolater, has any Inheritance in thy Kingdom Of Christ And GOD.. Let no One Deceive Thee with empty Words, for because of these things the Wrath Of GOD comes upon the Sons Of Disobedience. Therefore do not be Partakers with them.. For thy were once Darkness, but now You're  Light In The LORD. Walk as Children Of Light.. For the Fruit of the SPIRIT is in All Goodness, Righteousness, And Truth) Finding out what is Acceptable to thy LORD. And have no Fellowship with the Unfruitful Works Of Darkness, but rather Expose them.. For it is Shameful even to Speak of those things which are done by them in Secret. But all things that are Exposed are made Manifested by the Light, for whatever makes Manifest Is Light.... Therefore He Says; Awake, thou who Sleep, Arise from the Dead, and Christ will give You Light'' See then that thou walk Circumspectly, not as fools but as Wise.. Redeeming the Time, because the Days are evil, Therefore do not be Unwise, but Understand what the Will of the LORD Is... And do not be Drunk with Wine, in which is Dissipation, but be Filled with the HOLY-SPIRIT. Speaking to One another in Psalms and Hymns and Spiritual Songs, Singing and Making Melody in Thy Heart to thou LORD.. Giving Thanks always for All things to GOD The Father In The Name Of Our Lord Jesus Christ... Submitting to One another in the Fear Of GOD. Wives, Submit to Your Own Husbands, as to the LORD.. For the Husband Is Head of the Wife, as also CHRIST Is Head Of The Church; and HE Is the Savior of The Body.. Therefore, Just as the Church Is Subject to Christ, so let the Wives be to their Own husbands in Everything... Husbands, Love thy Wives, just as Christ also Loved thy Church and gave Thyself for Her.. That He might Sanctify and Cleanse her with the Washing of Water by the Word.. That He might Present her to himself A Glorious Church, not having Spot Or Wrinkle or any Such thing, but that She should be Holy and without Blemish.... So, Husbands ought to Love their Own Wives as their Own Bodies; He who Loves his Wife Loves Himself.... For no One ever Hated his Own Flesh, but Nourished And Cherishes it, just as the LORD does the Church. For we are Members Of His Body, of his Flesh and Of His Bones.... For this Reason A Man shall Leave His Father and Mother and be Joined to his Wife, and the Two shall Become One Flesh'' This is S Great Mysteries, but I Speak Concerning Christ and the Church... Nevertheless, let each one Of Thee in Particular so Love his Own Wife as Himself, and let the Wife see that She Respects Her Husband... GOD Remain Our Strength... GOD Is Love... GOD With Us..!!! GOD Bless.... Peace And Love....!!!!
LIMESTONE
Never had I seen such beauty like yours,
Such a worthwhile smile that shapes me like a file.

Never had I seen such wit as yours,
Such a rightful judge to the cruel misrule.

Never had I seen such persona, with playfulness, reasonableness, uprightness, and inquisitiveness.

Never had I seen perfection, the quintessential condensation of all great characterization, in balance with my imperfection.

Yet it is only wise to appreciate you with my eyes, as my body is apprehended by the past, the future, the time, and the agony.

The life I've experienced has taught me that love is futile, served with sadness and unhappiness and dolefulness with a side of temporary blissfulness.

The idea of success impedes me from obtaining happiness, from settling for ‘less’ and portray a smile nevertheless.

Warped by expectation, limitation, and exploitation, time isn't sufficient to provide you with my fixation, affectation, and ministration.

Sustainability I cannot devise for when I witness your brown eyes, brown like earth, which with the kiss of rain and the seed of love can allow the flourish of life and euphoria never dreamed of.

My heart accelerates uncontrollably, approaching me to a heart attack of which I'm never coming back.

I suffocate as you leave me breathless, yet you suppress my stress and hopelessness.

I so wish to warm your hand while wrapping around your arm.

I so wish to embrace you in my arms and promise you safety for eternity.

I so wish to feel your lips and your hips, never letting go until the last grasp of my fingertips.

I so wish to stare at the stars to your side, while I admire your eyes, hoping that our love never dies.

But being with you is an impossibility, in addition to an atrocity.

Separated by time, a history, and personalities, war would form and never end in peace,
For my peasantry doesn't deserve your royalty,
For my filthiness shan't nudge your pureness,
For my darkness can't cohere with your brightness.

I'd be put to trial for the exile of your smile, the most intact of the wonders of the world that would now be purled.

I wish I could love you but never will I deserve you,
Never will we be together, for we would be an incompatible tether.

I wish I could be with you but it is true that we are through,
Never shall our past be repeated, for it won't be greeted, but rather maltreated.

I wish I could but I've understood from our childhood where I stood and where I stand,
Never will I know, if I were… with you, know where it would lead to.
We wish to love while abstaining ourselves from the possibility.
All through is the heart with tommy rot
Filled. And much volume of flowing waters
Can its evil filthiness wash away not:
The sea that unto the shores spatters
Of the world; neither can the earth's potent
Bleach remove away the dirt stubborn
From man's wicked heart, whose content
Spits out the fire of sin like a dragon.
Nevertheless only a droplet of the blood of
God's Lamb--the Messiah--more than
Able is to cleanse once and for all the tough,
Stinking stains away from the soul of man.
And whiter than snow shall he surely be
That bathes in the shed blood of Christ truly.
Lynn Grace Jun 2012
And all of a sudden everything feels like it's falling apart
I can't even talk to You
Talk about You
Or listen to You
Without being distracted
How did I turn away?
Everything was so right
Going so well
I thought I had it all figured out
Well, at least most of it
You're always here and I know You are
So why am I living as if You don't exist
My life is nothing
But You make me something
You created me
Love me
And all I ever do is neglect You
Bring me back to the road I was cruising on
With You in the drivers side
And me in the passenger side
Take me to where You want me to go
Focus my mind on the things of Your kind
Love, joy, peace, patience, righteousness, kindness
Keep me away from temptation that I may not sin
But I'm cursed so forgive me, Father
I don't deserve You
And You don't need me
I didn't choose You
But You chose me
You bled and died for me
Took upon your shoulders
My filthiness, my sorrow, my pain, my sin
And You we're glorified
God, this is your story
This isn't my life anymore
Take all of me
Body and spirit
Transform me
Make me more like You
Sit enthroned upon my heart
Beat me down until I surrender
Give me strength to fight my ways
And courage to live Your ways
All I need is You
jeffrey robin Jul 2011
all my "friends"

the day evaporates
(and the faces, too)

the SUBLIME MOMENT!

death walks hand in hand
with the HUMBLE MAID
--------

all in our own TAROT
-----

we paint the cards and create

each other

out of the filthiness
of the LIE
it's ok Aug 2015
I just need to fall asleep
At this point it doesn't seem possible
I'm lost in my thoughts, you see?
In the morning I'll focus on this filthiness
it all seems so unsorted

Thinking holds and keeps
stops me from being at least plausible
my eyes bother me
and their unwillingness
to stop my thoughts from being contorted
Zywa Mar 2021
From the silagehill

I see what I may not see:


all the filthiness.
“Het smelt” (“It melts”, 2016, Lize Spit)

Collection "Shelter"
jeffrey robin Oct 2015
.


the AMERICAN


Looks for love !!!!

)(

And all us HP babes

Here in ****   City

Ready to compromise

))

With our siren song

And our ******* !!!!

:::

( if you  don't *****

You might have a good ole time


Day by Day )


//.//

& if you're stupid enough

You might call it ,,,,, love


)(

Oh well

We have become

The walking corpses

We      ****

It ain't pretty

But we ****







Oh

Sweet YE lovely child


We walk the road


( you & I )

The holy road

Into the pure night


In the mountains

We find each other

In the light

•••


Oh the filthiness

Of our lies !

We say our

******* is love

But afterwards

We attempt suicide!!!!

???

Our love is a lie

Our life is a fraud

Our poetry

Is

Violation of the law

"""

""""""
•••••

Oh

Child

You & I

On & on

--

Out of the madness

Out of the madness !

If you

Want

To survive



Loveliness

Lovely child


Mother of tomorrow


Washing the slutiness

From your eyes
jeffrey robin May 2015
0
/ ( • ) ( • ) \
/  \

__

____

the seed of                 .......         (?)

we ride invisible great Stallions

to hills in a world unseen

And drink holy nectar and wield

Weapons unknown

By man



We vow

To never talk of our poisoned love again

Our violated and violating

Filthiness

Our *****  & ****** bodies

Our ugly beliefs

In morbid capitalistic *** crazed feelings

Of superiority & possessiveness

//

We vow to stop trying to enslave one another

//

We are done

//

We shall only do one thing

""0""

The silence is the sacred

Only pure solitude remains



Upon the great Stallions we ride toward

Unseen hills in the mystic unknown lands

//

We shall speak only in the ancient sacred tongues

We shall respect one another

••

We shall bear no loyalty at all

:::

We shall only bear true witness to each other

We shall bathe our slutty bodies in still waters

()

We are done with this slavery

//

We shall die



But for at least a moment

We shall act like human beings
84
The playful DJs,
Naughtiness and filthiness.
Seamless robbery.
Looking beyond my ragged cloth
To the inner man within

Reaching for my hand,
Clotted red and sore

Calling it purity,
Despite the dreadful reality

Who are you that looks beyond?
A ***** shell wrapping a lost soul

Walking into my filthiness,
And yet, hugs warmly like a father

You read and understand,
The language of my tears

Speaking friendly unto my soul
Sparking a new flame in me

That I see light in my blindness
A future beyond stars
he judges me not...
People are always sure about their opinions towards you
They will judge and say stuff’ about which they don’t have a clue
They’ll say your heart and your brain are wrong pair
You don’t belong here
Pack your filthiness and go
You should’ve die some long times ago
You’re really good before; but now you lack manner
They’ll try to tear you down; and burn-out the whole banner
Give you some whacky name; but all that did not matter
They are just a stepping stone; a ladder to help you step on the next ladder
I’m a new man now and I’ve edit all da flaws
The kid you order around doesn’t exist anymore
Gage D Jul 2017
I always did best ******* up while ****** up.

Let's not do that thing again, where we talk like friends for two days before bringing up the **** Up, and then one of us makes a joke about how forgivable I am, knowing full well that's not a good thing. I ask you to leave me in the wastebasket of your mind, along with the drafts of your poems, which like me could have been been amazing had we just not gave up, respectively on our own projects. Don't let me pull you into this cycle I have of hurting everything I have close to me, because I can't ******* stay clean because I always have to run from my own mind. Let me collapse into myself like a star, a dying glimpse of light that can just wink out. For much like many stars we see I feel already dead,
It's just that that image hasn't reached everyone else yet.

I destroy people in attempts to build myself up. All I have left of many people that I thought I'd give the world for is the look on their face after I used that world to only break it over their ******* skull.
I desire reinvention, reminiscince, beauty and liveliness,
But it's reckless to desire things you can't create yourself,
Because then you have to buy those things.
My wallet's empty.
My soul is cold.

I replay looking up and seeing that car in front of mine just as often now as my favorite nights of walking down baton rouge streets, despite the filthiness I felt out there. I often wondered if the groups of men standing by the doors in those gas stations would follow me into the night and **** me for the 15 dollars in change they overheard the cashier give me. They probably needed it more. I often wondered if I'd be in the wrong place at the wrong time outside at those apartments. Maybe it was hope. Maybe it was premonition rearing it's insightful head.
My aunt died a week after that accident. She was a much nicer person than I could ever hope to be. I lived, through bleeding out for hours in a trauma center because of my condition. She died in her sleep while I was out getting ****** up because I couldn't stop seeing that car in front of me. Maybe I'm seeing into a better timeline, where the bad are punished and the good are rewarded. This seems likely. The flashbacks end there, where maybe it should have all ended.

No true tales end as happily as you want them too. No one said the world is perfect. We are certainly not perfect. But these are too big of things to think on. I guess all I can hope is that I'll be able to fall asleep one of these nights.
It was a beautiful day,
Sun is hidden away,
And listen to what nature
Had to say,
My minds at ease,
Nothing to my conscious,
To tease,
Me about I'm just on that
Spiritual route,
Don't **** me vibe,
I'm just tryna survive,
Like the next man,
Or woman,
I'm cooling no time for droolin',
Over negativity,
Embrace longevity,
Envy the biggest enemies
To humanity,
Why can't we,
All just sit back and blaze
And ounce to that,
Old school tracks,
As the vinyl's cracks,
Soul music let the melodies
Walk into ya body,
Illuminati tried to blind me,
But I'm wires differently,
New age baby,
But old school raised me,
Golden principles 80s,
A scholar and wise,
Don't need corporate ties
To get a taste, and realize,
The lies,
Told to me since day one day come,
Daylight some,
But darkness makes the
Most bombs,
Covered with filthiness, I can attest
I say it with my chest,
But back to this herbs that bless,
Slowly caress,
Mary's lips, grab a close hold of
Her hips,
Slowly pull her in,
Yeah the party's jumping,
Got a few sips of gins,
Got a **** looking for a hen,
To put my licks in,
Feel me mayne,
I'm in the fast lane, coastin,
As the fires roastin',
Way pass overdosin',
No drunk drive I'm just scaling
The highs,
Down to the lows, angels in all angels,
Reaching to me,
It's so lovely, .maybe these
Weeds playing minds tricks
On me,
Another day in the Houston daily,
Chronicles,
I catch all subliminals,
When I'm high, toward the sky,
So high oh so high,
Byrd's playing the words,
Mellow music bump up the
Acoustic,
Soul surround universal pounds,
Up my adrenaline,
Used to be a middle man,
But now I'm chilling with herbs
In hand,
Jeffrey Robin Jun 2016
.



ancient the story


:::


we are still too afraid to hear

( how we love our trivial love
---

So safe

The ongoing pain ! )



••


••


Such tired children !

::


Running here
Running there


In ***** ****** underwear

Looking for each other

In our filthiness

In our betrayal of god himself




.
jeffrey robin Nov 2015
.





Broken doll



                                     ( she thought ! )


She must be more than a toy

Dressed in filthiness !



( Maybe )




they have homes where
*****  children go

To recuperate

So they can be ready for the

Next assault

::::

Look at you all !

Here to please !


Here to


Entertain !

/:/

She once was a

a HUMAN BEING

Now she just writes poetry

And hopes to be woman

Some sweet day
jeffrey robin Dec 2014
(                                            
                                            )
  (                                            
                                         )      
      (                              
                      )  
   (      
\/
/\
/    \
#

                                                  & all the rest
-----

Only the universe

Only the Father
Only the Mother

//

The ancient truths still live !

What are we doing living in filthiness !

In the horror

We create

•   •

Why are we living in such ignorance ?

/::/

Lovely is every child

You are  

A lovely child



The ancient and only truth that creates forever

Out of omnipotent love

Only the Father
Only the Mother

Only the children

Only us

— The End —