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"foreclosing" poems
The Buddha slept under the night sky on His back eyes open; fearless love looked up. humbling the majesty of the Void's gift. eyes fixed... both peerless. first among equals. but transcendent. The Buddha, wearing grass-stained robes chose a blank spot for a blank stare " Nowhere Girls are EveryWHERE " He thought, astonished. a moment after where once He stood there Was No spoon. [ PART ii ] NOT THE KOAN BUT THE KOAN THAT YOU GOT on the X-ray zen splints were clearly spidered webs in ghost bone... how should I feel that my sensei saw the X-ray first? life is where the answer to this question is a real thing draped in ominous clarity like a town fool, the beggar foreclosing on your house of cards, the winged swine and some guy named Patrick having a smoke in your face; the mailman, who always looks so serious about your trivia in a blue hat... who always trips over your precious dying very potted plants! yes, all that, or maybe not. saute some fresh green kale in olive oil with fresh garlic [ give it to me ] and i'll tell you that was very thoughtful, and right then; it would also be true. for a minute there... you and i were typing you reading this part. these are the diamonds. my exposure to the radiation is everlasting in the middle of it's brief long duration my ghost bones wear new flesh like iPod headphones, don't hate the player [ better yet ] make a macaroni necklace. go wild. be reckless. it'll cost you an ounce of real kimchi from the motherland with the ugly sister. i wouldn't put it pass you. cause that would be clairvoyance, and you already know! a loose tooth entrenched in candy apple can't taste your stupidity but has bad dreams! some people will always look at you the wrong way and appreciate how you sat perfectly still for hours; you only took a break to suggest a better room with southern exposure to eastern thought. when you threw in a Tripod, they knew you were somekinda somethin'. and they knew it all along but juuust wasn't sure. and kumquats are quantumly eaten.
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Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
NOWHERE GIRLS ARE EVERYWHERE
The Buddha slept under the night sky on His back eyes open; fearless love looked up. humbling the majesty of the Void's gift. eyes fixed... both peerless. first among equals. but transcendent. The Buddha, wearing grass-stained robes chose a blank spot for a blank stare " Nowhere Girls are EveryWHERE " He thought, astonished. a moment after where once He stood there Was No spoon. [ PART ii ] NOT THE KOAN BUT THE KOAN THAT YOU GOT on the X-ray zen splints were clearly spidered webs in ghost bone... how should I feel that my sensei saw the X-ray first? life is where the answer to this question is a real thing draped in ominous clarity like a town fool, the beggar foreclosing on your house of cards, the winged swine and some guy named Patrick having a smoke in your face; the mailman, who always looks so serious about your trivia in a blue hat... who always trips over your precious dying very potted plants! yes, all that, or maybe not. saute some fresh green kale in olive oil with fresh garlic [ give it to me ] and i'll tell you that was very thoughtful, and right then; it would also be true. for a minute there... you and i were typing you reading this part. these are the diamonds. my exposure to the radiation is everlasting in the middle of it's brief long duration my ghost bones wear new flesh like iPod headphones, don't hate the player [ better yet ] make a macaroni necklace. go wild. be reckless. it'll cost you an ounce of real kimchi from the motherland with the ugly sister. i wouldn't put it pass you. cause that would be clairvoyance, and you already know! a loose tooth entrenched in candy apple can't taste your stupidity but has bad dreams! some people will always look at you the wrong way and appreciate how you sat perfectly still for hours; you only took a break to suggest a better room with southern exposure to eastern thought. when you threw in a Tripod, they knew you were somekinda somethin'. and they knew it all along but juuust wasn't sure. and kumquats are quantumly eaten.
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They’re foreclosing on our homes left and right Violent gangs roam the streets to find a fight On the corner scumbags sell the young ******* That’s the bitter news the tabloids will proclaim But some people volunteer at nursing homes Some give to charity their whole life long Some others give asylum for the homeless in the rain But that’s not headline news as the media plays the game I believe in tomorrow thru it all God makes a lot more sunbeams Than he makes raindrops fall At Golgatha Hill He showed a love No darkness can undo He's always justified my faith                                                                                 And believing like I do So don’t give up when tabloids show the worst Or when cable likes to find some hell on earth For God’s a God of endless love; His rainbows stop the rain And He would never make a world in vain CHORUS Bridge: The tide comes in, the tide goes out But goodness will prevail Just follow in His footsteps And you'll be right on the trail CHORUS
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Dec 13, 2010
Dec 13, 2010 at 8:37 AM UTC
I Believe in Tomorrow
A Game of superior gametes, My 46ers in the race to conceive A business/economic Theory of Warfare To guarantee/certify myn own survival For my 23ers --> The Olympic Swimmers! If the potentiality of Life in the Multi-verse Is obviously a sure thing, Then it's Intelligent Life-forms That are the abnormally; an abomination To an empty Entity interested only in Inflicting pain and suffering and misery to the Masses; Perhaps justifiably, perhaps not...who cares? It's not Nature's way --> She is indifferent, But not unaware of One species Destroying essential habitat for no lasting reward. She is here now - be careful! We need To re:think our primary endeavours; Let's try to ameliorate the damage; Conserve what little's left whilst Not foreclosing the whole kit and caboodle: Sustainable resourcing without guilt. A Quadruple bottom line, with a different foci --> People and Environment over Time and Wherewithal.
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Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
Olympians - One and All
Jammin’ with Mammon. Hyped to the max. Finding those loopholes Paying no tax. Slammin’ for Mammon. Foreclosing on life. You died too soon? We’ll tax your wife. Jammin’ with Mammon The world by the tail. Lie cheat and swindle Don’t worry about bail. Swimmin' like salmon Against the stream. Dealing from the bottom; Living the dream. Slammin’ for Mammon; Trample the rest. Get first and last from The community chest. No famine for Mammon; Let the poor starve. **** the fatted calf and Get ready to carve. Jammin’ with Mammon As good as it gets. No room for conscience Or squishy regrets. Slammin’ for Mammon Means money is king. Don’t count the victims, Just get the brass ring.
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Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 8:03 AM UTC
JAMMIN' WITH MAMMON
You know the economy is bad When they begin foreclosing On tree houses & sand castles
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Nov 16, 2019
Nov 16, 2019 at 2:32 PM UTC
Voodoo Economics
We live a bugs life Roaches, Dime A dozen Roley Polys, Belly up scared frozen Ants, At the hill top Fighting from their desktop Taxing every cot Hundreds from the working bee Foreclosing hives off every tree Wives on their knees begging please Left homeless in stress Only their babies to caress *We live a bugs life Ready to be seized*
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Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 9:35 PM UTC
A Bugs Life
The dragons of Eden Are forking their tongues Along the silver edge of acetone rain, Foreclosing yesterday’s shop-fronts In favour of a clean white page. They smoke in tailored suits, Blackening their lungs And toasting freedom with afternoon champagne. They took man to the moon, they say, And gave light to the modern age. They tweak offshore accounts With battery farms Of the hardly living, and hardly human. Forfeiting progress for profit, They scandalise the streets in debt. The dragons of Eden Are flexing their arms, They’re setting their minds from union, to fusion. They’re alighting our memories, But it is our choice to forget.
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 8:25 PM UTC
The Dragons of Eden
entered alone the empty room a tree in a vibrant autumnal gold flooding the window a morning mist foreclosing the valley and there suspended that golden radiant tree a baroque shrine lit for love psalms
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Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
window with a view
as them massed letter of yours gather oh how much i wish they were like before not filled with a hateful lather the removing of your reminders from the grey wall brings that freedom to perform acts with release my crimson as if part of winter fall this self loathing pain in my bleak chamber of dark regret i know im losing your love as if it was a bet all because i suffer alone in the bleeding rain while you have loyal friends who make you feel no pain yet my dark thoughts turn to the ending play foreclosing all like a short miserable winters day
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Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 9:05 PM UTC
**** everything
Silence conform  be of Who You Are nothing more that is what Society is teaching us this is what we are adapting to we overestimate all our sayings in the power of which we believe you'll make us evolve foreclosing off options if no one will see the enemy that we are fighting is nothing besides us slowly destroying isn't only the animals but the ones who try to tell the story silence conform be from what we are our information what we are Will Tell Us Where to Go silence conform you know what we are follow the words of which that came before  silence conform follow the same rules while Society deems everything unnecessary  silence and Conformity will **** us all if no one ever can see past that barrier passed the fog of which is societal standards if no one can think outside the box there will be no box just the silence and Conformity of utopian society which isn't peaceful at all just closed off from the world.                      silence and conform the two deadliest swords
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Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 11:15 PM UTC
Silently Conform
the thrill and guilt of transgression unhinges my very being. a foreclosing law is laid down on the fierce skin of justice. duty and danger calls. and should the heavens truly fall, if i'm caught, or probably even if not: it will be an even greater struggle than ever before, living myself, but that's not all, at the very least, that's not all.
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Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
deviant, diabolic
like the house upon a dune, dawning in the arms of a salty sea windy, a hoarsy rust foreclosing the ways inside, a home of a hoarder, yet a would-be-minimalist, kind of a patine, riddling scratches of drifters.
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May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 10:23 AM UTC
olden, adj.
Desperate magicians pulling symbols out of thin air, pretending they have weight. We glue stories to death, joy, love, hate, and call it meaning, but at the core it’s hollow, a forced construct to keep our heads from snapping off or caving  in during  the  reality  of  unfathomable chaos. Religion  is  condensed  hate masquerading as caring. We  don't  care  about  anyone but  our  children or  our  parents. Not  actually, not  systemically, not practically. It’s brutal and seems freeing at the same time:    If ,  nothing HAS  to mean anything. yet we obsessively insist   that  it does. We carve sense out of nonsense, hope out of despair, and call it life or  living. If  we  the  people  took the  power  away   from those  we  abdicated  it  to what would  really happen ? Freedom ? No.... it's  our  recursive nature   to  hurt to enslave to horde to lust to desire  to be  better. Better  than  what? Look at the  deer,  the  birds  , the  bears, the  fish you see  them  punching the  clock ? Or  foreclosing on  Gramma ? Handing over our agency to  a system designed  so  that  thoughts  and  feelings  are  as meaningless  as circumstance . Greed engineered  to fail  the  whole.   but  benefit  those  making the  rules. We chose  to blind  ourselves  and  worse  yet our  children. Rules  are  an  an attempt  to control  the  future  based  on the mistakes  of  the  past.   You and  your  voice  means  nothing never has, never  will .   The  normalization of  brainwashing   and  the  idea  that  asking a question  is  wrong, thanks  Jesus.
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Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 3:23 AM UTC
Those who are divine are above their animal reality.
Desperate magicians pulling symbols out of thin air, pretending they have weight. We glue stories to death, joy, love, hate, and call it meaning, but at the core it’s hollow, a forced construct to keep our heads from snapping off or caving  in during  the  reality  of  unfathomable chaos. Religion  is  condensed  hate masquerading as caring. We  don't  care  about  anyone but  our  children or  our  parents. Not  actually, not  systemically, not practically. It’s brutal and seems freeing at the same time:    If ,  nothing HAS  to mean anything. yet we obsessively insist   that  it does. We carve sense out of nonsense, hope out of despair, and call it life or  living. If  we  the  people  took the  power  away   from those  we  abdicated  it  to what would  really happen ? Freedom ? No.... it's  our  recursive nature   to  hurt to enslave to horde to lust to desire  to be  better. Better  than  what? Look at the  deer,  the  birds  , the  bears, the  fish you see  them  punching the  clock ? Or  foreclosing on  Gramma ? Handing over our agency to  a system designed  so  that  thoughts  and  feelings  are  as meaningless  as circumstance . Greed engineered  to fail  the  whole.   but  benefit  those  making the  rules. We chose  to blind  ourselves  and  worse  yet our  children. Rules  are  an  an attempt  to control  the  future  based  on the mistakes  of  the  past.   You and  your  voice  means  nothing never has, never  will .   The  normalization of  brainwashing   and  the  idea  that  asking a question  is  wrong, thanks  Jesus.
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