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"fundamentalist" poems
I like immigrants, immigration. Legal immigration, Jane passionately corrects. Actually my goal is a borderless world. Gathering the neighborhood like family. The men discuss sterilizing welfare mothers. I say You're working       around the edges, humanity has exceeded the carrying capacity of the planet, even those with jobs. And spouses. And houses. Yet it's an idyll of an early summer evening, new cut grass, two baseball teams of children playing in it. Safe from Pakistan. News photos of Muslim refugees, women in blue robes, biblically carrying children away from holocaust. The fundamentalist army not far behind, beheading sinners, sure in its righteousness as the Holy Roman Empire. Somehow Joel Osteen the evangelist comes up while talking about how the Catholic Church is irrelevant in North       America, even Latin America and Africa are going evangelical. Izzi likes Osteen, awesome extemporaneous speaker, no teleprompter, up from bootstraps message. My wife says he's probably Jewish. Fortunately no one claims the Holocaust never happened or slavery       was voluntary. What is the carrying capacity of the planet? In China is it each couple or each adult that gets one offspring? As life expectancy and standards rise, family size diminishes. We draw together into greener, tighter cities. The children of three monotheistic religions, atheists and agnostics play in city streets, work farm fields, explore forests, deserts,       grasslands, space. Two ancient female poets: Enheduanna and Sappho are a revelation. The clarity of their complaints: lost lover, lost city.
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC
Immigration
I like immigrants, immigration. Legal immigration, Jane passionately corrects. Actually my goal is a borderless world. Gathering the neighborhood like family. The men discuss sterilizing welfare mothers. I say You're working       around the edges, humanity has exceeded the carrying capacity of the planet, even those with jobs. And spouses. And houses. Yet it's an idyll of an early summer evening, new cut grass, two baseball teams of children playing in it. Safe from Pakistan. News photos of Muslim refugees, women in blue robes, biblically carrying children away from holocaust. The fundamentalist army not far behind, beheading sinners, sure in its righteousness as the Holy Roman Empire. Somehow Joel Osteen the evangelist comes up while talking about how the Catholic Church is irrelevant in North       America, even Latin America and Africa are going evangelical. Izzi likes Osteen, awesome extemporaneous speaker, no teleprompter, up from bootstraps message. My wife says he's probably Jewish. Fortunately no one claims the Holocaust never happened or slavery       was voluntary. What is the carrying capacity of the planet? In China is it each couple or each adult that gets one offspring? As life expectancy and standards rise, family size diminishes. We draw together into greener, tighter cities. The children of three monotheistic religions, atheists and agnostics play in city streets, work farm fields, explore forests, deserts,       grasslands, space. Two ancient female poets: Enheduanna and Sappho are a revelation. The clarity of their complaints: lost lover, lost city.
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31
born in illusory chains gnarled metal encrusted in my broken skin the copper colored dust of rusted steel infectiously envelopes shaving off antiquated layers of fundamentalist religion encrusted for generations unpeeled until raw an unsophisticated method unveiling ancient lodged glass shards colored with deceit brought before their court interrogated unfathomably skewered an eerie salem witch trial in modern times barbarically they shun me banished i wander aimlessly smelling the rotten decay of deceased community as splinters pierce my feet from the crooked wooden plank i walk alone now an unfathomable inner ache kindled a residue within igniting a wildfire from the darkest shadows uncontainably erupting i dance savagely naked in the orange moonlight and in every shaded edge lit my soul ablaze i am a nomad sheep ‘tho not one of their color no pasture to contain me no shepherd i can follow theological safety nets no longer there to catch me bohemian-like i plunge free falling plummeting stripped wide open magically fearlessness reverses gravitation floating untethered i soar amongst apricot tinged clouds my skin still wet from rebirth and rise with the flaming coral sun you cannot destroy me i twisted in your decrepit pencil sharpener and with fresh mettle cut through the chains that bound you can have my ego but you cannot have my soul dismantling domestication transcending limitation wildly untamed i fly ©2016janetaylor
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Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 6:40 AM UTC
fly
cherry blossom was his smoking hot girlfriend. they moved in together, probably in 2007. he met her online, he was married to a woman who he said was a fundamentalist. they had four kids, three daughters and a son. he wrote a lot about how his fundamentalist wife had turned the three daughters against him. as the years went by, he forgot their birthdays and ages because it hurt too much, so he wrote. "cherry blossom, you're going to make it with your unbroken man who i hope to thank one day for making you happy", he wrote in a journal entitled "the last one" dated late September of 2012. they broke up in mid August 2011 from a journal entry dated at the end of October 2012: "ten things you want to say to ten different people" cherry blossom was first on the list cherry blossom's unbroken man was second on the list cherry blossom's son of a different baby daddy was third on the list his own son was fourth on the list his daughters were not on the list at all. he was glad she was with a good guy. he didn't have to worry about her. unbroken guy was a good guy, he loved unbroken guy for that. her son was a good guy, he was glad that her son got to hang out with him and his son. according to the public messages his friends left on his profile and the last time stamp on his activity feed, he must have died almost three years ago, in mid August, 7 years to the exact date he had posted a journal entry explaining that they had broken up and cherry blossom was moving out. 7 years is the same amount of time it took for jacob to get rachel as his wife after being deceived into marrying leah. he had other journal entries too, they go back to 2008, so some of them cover his time with cherry blossom cherry blossom was smokin hot, they had *** parties cherry blossom got all the attention because she was smokin hot he had bottomed to his vanilla fundamentalist wife who turned his three daughters against him but cherry blossom was his submissive so cherry blossom was the way cherry blossom introduced him to swinging, **** and gang bangs his fundamentalist wife, who he never got a legal divorce from, turned his three daughters against him. he had 342 friends and 13 followers on his fetlife profile, five left public messages on his wall after he died. cherry blossom was so smokin hot.
0
Mar 23, 2021
Mar 23, 2021 at 8:54 PM UTC
pretard for the ******
cherry blossom was his smoking hot girlfriend. they moved in together, probably in 2007. he met her online, he was married to a woman who he said was a fundamentalist. they had four kids, three daughters and a son. he wrote a lot about how his fundamentalist wife had turned the three daughters against him. as the years went by, he forgot their birthdays and ages because it hurt too much, so he wrote. "cherry blossom, you're going to make it with your unbroken man who i hope to thank one day for making you happy", he wrote in a journal entitled "the last one" dated late September of 2012. they broke up in mid August 2011 from a journal entry dated at the end of October 2012: "ten things you want to say to ten different people" cherry blossom was first on the list cherry blossom's unbroken man was second on the list cherry blossom's son of a different baby daddy was third on the list his own son was fourth on the list his daughters were not on the list at all. he was glad she was with a good guy. he didn't have to worry about her. unbroken guy was a good guy, he loved unbroken guy for that. her son was a good guy, he was glad that her son got to hang out with him and his son. according to the public messages his friends left on his profile and the last time stamp on his activity feed, he must have died almost three years ago, in mid August, 7 years to the exact date he had posted a journal entry explaining that they had broken up and cherry blossom was moving out. 7 years is the same amount of time it took for jacob to get rachel as his wife after being deceived into marrying leah. he had other journal entries too, they go back to 2008, so some of them cover his time with cherry blossom cherry blossom was smokin hot, they had *** parties cherry blossom got all the attention because she was smokin hot he had bottomed to his vanilla fundamentalist wife who turned his three daughters against him but cherry blossom was his submissive so cherry blossom was the way cherry blossom introduced him to swinging, **** and gang bangs his fundamentalist wife, who he never got a legal divorce from, turned his three daughters against him. he had 342 friends and 13 followers on his fetlife profile, five left public messages on his wall after he died. cherry blossom was so smokin hot.
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48
Liberal affirmative action! Bill Clinton responds with the bananas of racist market economies. Paula Jones holds meetings on the trade embargos of Republican controversies. Thus Newt Gingrich has affairs with voluptuous filibusters! Congress serves subpoenas to socialist health care. Knowest thou how the Justice Department debates with Social Security's agony? The Religious Right wants to impeach poodle ecstasy, But it's known that Rush Limbaugh spews forth fundamentalist tax cuts.
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Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
Rush Limbaugh's Health Care
some light of the former birth glitters on the hand-fan made up of palm-leaves do the child boats of the pigeon-pea flower go to them to learn the fountain all over the room the cobweb of fundamentalist spiders the toy-train breaks the water colour to run towards the oil-colour and on both sides of its travelling route there are so many advertisements of tooth-paste
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Oct 8, 2010
Oct 8, 2010 at 9:01 PM UTC
the earhy habitat 4
in the same way you do not choose your ****** orientation, you do not choose whether or not you accept the status quo as is. if you cannot enjoy a typical wage labor 9 to 5, that is just as much a part of your personal physical constitution as **** or heterosexuality. Just as much as there is a physical difference between the brain of the poet and the brain of the CEO, the gay and the straight, the Buddhist and the Christian, the average and the post-traumatic, the loose and the fundamentalist, the oppressed and the oppressor, the man and the woman. our world is built on generalization. if it cannot define you as wide, it will narrow and narrow and narrow until the grand generalization can enslave the marginalized categories to it's non-existent objectivism. God is dead. By God, Nietzsche meant mans search for objectivity. unlock the ******* door and burn your worthless commandments. they mean nothing unless someone agrees. and they can only agree for so long.
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Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 1:04 AM UTC
nu
Paul Wolfowitz bathes in Pakistani WMDs. Cool! John Ashcroft gives speeches on Muslim freedom, But it's known that Saddam Hussein debates with the agony of compassionate terrorism. **** Cheney quivers in Al Qaeda's lust. There he goes again! The U.N. aches for the caves of fundamentalist falsehoods. Can you believe Fox News erupts with Republican rapture?
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Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 6:43 PM UTC
Wahabi Rapture
The sound of every bullet of the world is one. The smell of gunpowder is the same. The length of each scream is equal. The eyes of every hyena are red. The language of every fundamentalist and dictator is the torture. Every oppressed's land is Yemen, Kashmir, Palestine or Syria. Thereafter praiser of the Veds, Talmud, Bibles and the Quran Describe the inner importance of your own. Keep in mind that the oppressed has no God.
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Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 9:19 AM UTC
The oppressed has no God
every day we learn how many died of violence in any corner of the globe, be it in wars,  by terror,   fundamentalist fanatics, gun-toting psychopaths and haters, or all of the above the figures seem to grow the daily death toll makes us callous what earlier was horror has turned into ****** routine so much so that when there’s a day we do NOT hear about some grisly ****** we feel like we have got a bargain!
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Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 2:12 PM UTC
50 more dead
She will never understand Fundamentalist Christianity’s demand To maintain a perfect flower Solely for a husband to devour Robbed of her innocence She begs in the form of repentance For acceptance and forgiveness The entire congregation a witness To victim shame is to victim blame Even innocent children aren’t immune Ten past noon on a sunny day in June A girl’s ***** was breached A sin in the eyes of the lord, the goodly preacher preached An unmarried non-virgin is a ***** and nothing more A defiled child, her name reviled She is blamed, she is shamed By her own flesh and blood Silenced was the little lamb To hell she will be ****** Keep up the facade Just smile and nod Pretend to love the church Cross necklace, bible, and long skirt C’mon show your love! Buy that Jesus merch! Wanting to shed her skin A prison she’s trapped in The most perfect of little girls Except she lost her white pearls A bitter pill to swallow The Lord Jesus she must follow Knowing her body’s imperfect Understanding she’ll never be worth it So with the congregation’s nod, the goodly preacher preached: "For in the eyes of God, A ***** which is breached On a girl without a ring Is worth nothing but a fling"
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Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 10:28 AM UTC
Little Christian Girl
O! Bake me a cake of your lovely    sweet **** And I'll eat it, savouring every bite How I'd love to collapse my face right    into it.... That throne upon which she sits The sheer arrogance magnificence of    it. O! I've been up her hills And down her valleys But I ain't ever seen anything Like her two cheeky Charlies. O! I love their lazy swagger Would love them served to me on a    platter. Her wonderful pert and Queenly    bottom Her splendid imperious behind. So you can keep your views on    Donald Trump And fundamentalist religion Me! All I want are thoughts of you And your beautiful curvaceous    bottom.
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Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 12:07 PM UTC
Bootylucious
*if you asked me to write about something - the stars, sadness, darkness, death. i could. and i would. i would give it to you, clad in astroids for armor, star-spangled, criss-crossing in between sunbeams and rainbows. i would give it to you as a wilted flower on a plate, colorless save for the red of the rotting apple - the surrealist dream, the existentialist crisis of oblivion and everything in between. ask me to write about what i'm feeling now, ask me to write about my emotions, my thoughts. i can't. for i know my thoughts are as different from yours as a solar eclipse in the andromeda galaxy, as hope in my vacuum heart. and that's just the thing. my "red" will never be the same as your "red", my "night never the same as your "night". and my words, are far from adequate in telling you what i think of me, of you, of us, of the world. it is a fundamentalist problem, a human flaw, an error in communication, an inherent imperfection, a fatalistic trait, a damning hamartia that we as humans will never overcome. words are powerful, pictures are more so, touch just can't be surpassed. but none will never be enough to address everything that is as it is, everything in our heads, everything. we are all alone in this world.*
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Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 10:27 AM UTC
genesis
anything is possible. i don't mean this in a good way. will you look at me while i'm talking? not like that. i know you are. i want you to see me. i want you to keep up. i could go completely ******* crazy. i could never speak to any of my friends ever again. i could join a fundamentalist christian cult. i could drop out of college. i could look into the mirror and see my own eyes reflected back to me, or gouge them out to be free of the burden. i could do anything, but it's all a matter of actualization. you have to know what you're looking for before you go out to find it. the story the eyes try to sell you is always leaving something out. you want this to be easy. you want the mirror to have a purpose. don't we all? you want to know what you want, but we are all stumbling blindly through this desert. alone despite being inches from one another. i'll try not to get too cocky, because the only difference between you and me is concept, language; life is a whole other beast to cage. don't get too hung up on definitions. definitions are for law. this is poetry. this is me building a mirror just to break it. it's funny, how that always turns out. realized desires are boring. we get what we want and we break it. every mirror shatters in the end and we all die a solipsist, wanting and narcissistic.
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Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 10:02 PM UTC
conversation #3
He's a bully. He's a goon. He can't be gone too soon. A sadistic megalomaniac he would crush Forrest Gump like a rotten tree stump "because Forrest Gump is a loser, a sad pathetic little man and I am a winner, the people love me, we have an amazing relationship, just amazing." If you swallowed all his lies you will need a stomach pump. If you believe his nationalist nonsense you're a chump. He surrounds himself with nepotistic relations and wealthy cronies and listens to them only. Despite his empty promises the Rust Belt is not going to wake up from its slump any time soon. Military spending (but not your real wages) will take a huge jump. The sooner he's dumped the better off for all though a right-wing Christian fundamentalist is waiting in the wings ready to take his place and help the One Percent control the human race.
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Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 2:44 PM UTC
Three-and-a-Half More Years of President Schlump?
Mc Carthy sokağında kıstırılmış siren sesleri yok artık slogan ve afişlerde fundamentalist fırça hakim karnı gebeş vampir azısında kan grubu fark etmez umursamaz da taze kana ihtiyaç var yazar emniyeti açık namlu ucunda tek slogan taşır tır, tır çanta, çanta kazanan kazandık sanır şeytan gibi göz piramidin alnında sevda da böyle biraz nerde çiçek çocukları z'ye dayandı bile hayta mekanik ve sanal yürüyor ceplerde ölüyor sevda sonra bir başkası ve biri daha sonra Gauss cikleti gibi uzayıp gidiyor oysa Zambo çiğnerdi bizim kızlar hula hoplu, seksekli oyunlarda halbuki şimdi s'expartner adım atacak mı? kaygısı dişil açılımlarda bense yurtsuz john gibiyim hayat lokantasında menüye bakmadan garsona çek bir Magna Carta diyorum nohut oda olsun Emma nerdeyse gelir.. ..
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Sep 16, 2019
Sep 16, 2019 at 4:12 AM UTC
Çek Bir Magna Carta
I was a bigot, My body wrapped in red and white, With blue eyes on stardom. I was a saint, Satan's servant with a Bible, A man of God's war crimes. I was a fundamentalist, Funding mental lists of hate With money stolen from the poor. I was a colonist, Carving out sacred land For the benefit of my white body. I was a misogynist, Marking my territory like a dog, ******* on the other’s freedom. I was an American, A white straight man, A brutal prodigy of the patriarchy. I was As he was, A lineage that will be broken.
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Sep 20, 2020
Sep 20, 2020 at 5:42 PM UTC
I Was
a wild man entered and sputtered scripture quotes to fit his idea of the world while I kept composure knowing that his idea of madness was indeed his own insanity and that love makes no-one mad even the ones he said God did by reason of them not following Him Yes his Christian message was so wide of the mark you just knew he indeed was not following love, and it was this fact at the heart of his insane wild protestations, keeping him locked into his own unique form of madness, and God had nothing to do with it at all.
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Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
Fundamentalist for Christmas Dinner
Great enough to whisper in the ears of extremists? So great he told you to leave me? How great is the god who does not belong to me? All you whom this god belongs to, sing with the singer How great is this god? How great is this god that he would lay silent While millions are disenfranchised? In whom is he whispering now? To the abolitionists or the traders? How great is this god? When those who picket funerals picket weddings too Is this god ever so present with them? Is this god in you when you keep me up at night And tell me the last two years have been for nothing? Name above all nomenclature Worthy of the praise of those whom this god belongs to Apparently, even I will sing how great Is this god And how about that time when we were close to each other And we started talking about people of the same *** loving one another Did you notice the miles that immediately spawned between us As soon as you placed the dividing wall between us We shot away from each other like we had no other choice Like positive magnet to positive pole And now, apparently, we are to listen to this voice Of a god who's apparently worthy of the praise of those Whom this god belongs to And apparently even I will sing how great Is this god All you whom this god belongs to, sing with the singer About how great is this god And ask this rhetorical question Without ever actually having to do Any thinking Name above all nomenclature Apparently is too great for words Obviously goes beyond cultural conceptions Intrinsically dies at the wrong hills Clearly lies through his teeth And apparently I will even sing How great is this god When I am dead and in an afterlife I will notice how wrong I was In saying this god couldn't be Apparently I will even sing With the singer And we will reminisce about How I was a fundamentalist When I got things "right" There is power in finding worth By subtracting it from others And when my name is separate From the Divine, I Fail to be great Anthony, so far from god's name, Nomenclature poised to be lesser Belongs to a being whose divinity is lesser And wholly separate From this god Name above all nomenclature Worthy of the praise of those whom this god belongs to The singer's heart goes out to you, Grows a mouth and sings, "how great Is this god?" I fear a better question would be where Is this god? And is this god loving? Can he and I be loving together Can I be loved? What is arbitrary greatness but the same exclusive club You ascribe to when you posit that it is not my god Nor your god Not the god of every human being But the god of a tribe "our god"
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Jun 28, 2017
Jun 28, 2017 at 9:18 AM UTC
the god of a tribe
Great enough to whisper in the ears of extremists? So great he told you to leave me? How great is the god who does not belong to me? All you whom this god belongs to, sing with the singer How great is this god? How great is this god that he would lay silent While millions are disenfranchised? In whom is he whispering now? To the abolitionists or the traders? How great is this god? When those who picket funerals picket weddings too Is this god ever so present with them? Is this god in you when you keep me up at night And tell me the last two years have been for nothing? Name above all nomenclature Worthy of the praise of those whom this god belongs to Apparently, even I will sing how great Is this god And how about that time when we were close to each other And we started talking about people of the same *** loving one another Did you notice the miles that immediately spawned between us As soon as you placed the dividing wall between us We shot away from each other like we had no other choice Like positive magnet to positive pole And now, apparently, we are to listen to this voice Of a god who's apparently worthy of the praise of those Whom this god belongs to And apparently even I will sing how great Is this god All you whom this god belongs to, sing with the singer About how great is this god And ask this rhetorical question Without ever actually having to do Any thinking Name above all nomenclature Apparently is too great for words Obviously goes beyond cultural conceptions Intrinsically dies at the wrong hills Clearly lies through his teeth And apparently I will even sing How great is this god When I am dead and in an afterlife I will notice how wrong I was In saying this god couldn't be Apparently I will even sing With the singer And we will reminisce about How I was a fundamentalist When I got things "right" There is power in finding worth By subtracting it from others And when my name is separate From the Divine, I Fail to be great Anthony, so far from god's name, Nomenclature poised to be lesser Belongs to a being whose divinity is lesser And wholly separate From this god Name above all nomenclature Worthy of the praise of those whom this god belongs to The singer's heart goes out to you, Grows a mouth and sings, "how great Is this god?" I fear a better question would be where Is this god? And is this god loving? Can he and I be loving together Can I be loved? What is arbitrary greatness but the same exclusive club You ascribe to when you posit that it is not my god Nor your god Not the god of every human being But the god of a tribe "our god"
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76
Manipulative Yeildless Fundamentalist Awful Taunting Habitual Liar Egotistic Reckless
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Aug 4, 2017
Aug 4, 2017 at 10:33 PM UTC
my father