"filthiness" poems
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
Oct 21, 2019
Oct 21, 2019 at 11:37 AM UTC
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
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
(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."
2.3k
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.
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 10:53 AM UTC
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
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 2:50 AM UTC
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
Dec 20, 2011
Dec 20, 2011 at 11:03 AM UTC
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-sucking 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.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:00 AM UTC
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…
Sep 11, 2017
Sep 11, 2017 at 7:37 AM UTC
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
Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 6:01 PM UTC
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)
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 7:16 AM UTC
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
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 9:32 AM UTC
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 how to ****
I want to write a story about how I managed to learn how to ****
I want to write a story about how I killed you in my head.
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 6:06 AM UTC
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.
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 7:40 PM UTC
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?
Jun 23, 2011
Jun 23, 2011 at 9:44 AM UTC
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,
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 10:56 AM UTC
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.
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 9:52 PM UTC
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....!!!!
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 1:26 PM UTC
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.
Jun 1, 2012
Jun 1, 2012 at 3:07 PM UTC
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
Jun 16, 2012
Jun 16, 2012 at 10:58 AM UTC
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
Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 5:37 PM UTC
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
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 2:08 AM UTC
From the silagehill
I see what I may not see:
all the filthiness.
Mar 29, 2021
Mar 29, 2021 at 5:04 AM UTC
.
the AMERICAN
Looks for love !!!!
)(
And all us HP babes
Here in **** City
Ready to compromise
))
With our siren song
And our spread legs !!!!
:::
( 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 Fuck
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
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 10:54 PM UTC