"gist" poems
Perched quietly in the shadows of the night,
Observing completely, using all her might,
Untouched the landscape sat; she breathed a sigh,
She leapt and began to fly
She soared through the trees, dark and murky,
Weaving in and out, the ride a little jerky,
Until she reached the clearing, blooming and sprouting,
Where she landed and began scouting
She spotted a baby, small and alone,
Hungry and confused, wanting to be shown,
Flying over to the area in which it sat,
She pulled some wisdom from her hat
Unmoving and silent, she sat as an example,
Showing her apprentice just a little sample,
Teaching patience and perseverance was first on the list,
She didn’t quit until it got the gist
Next thing she knew, her student was growing,
In no time, it was the one doing all the showing,
She took a step back, gazing proudly at her work,
While the child continued doing all the groundwork
Rays peaked out across the horizon in all hues,
Most of which consisted of reds and blues,
She looked at the child, beckoning it to fly on home,
Although she longed to stay and roam
As the sun rose, slow and bright,
She decided to turn and take off in flight,
Twisting and turning through trees and brush,
She flew on quickly, as if in a rush
She spotted it then, modest and small,
The place she longed to go most of all,
Adventures are fun and she liked to roam,
But there’s definitely no place quite like home.
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 10:27 PM UTC
Woman wants monogamy;
Man delights in novelty.
Love is woman's moon and sun;
Man has other forms of fun.
Woman lives but in her lord;
Count to ten, and man is bored.
With this the gist and sum of it,
What earthly good can come of it?
11.1k
Liquid courage to numb the pain.
Intoxicated to forget.
Offbeat blood, sent from heart to vein.
Returns with a guest, she just met.
She closes up, leaves the bar clean.
To her apartment, around three.
In bed she lays, counting some sheep,
That mock her, thinking she will sleep.
She hears the crickets’ lonely beat.
Reminding her of creeps she meets.
Sometimes they have a potential start.
But never truly go that far.
Each night dealt with some other cards.
But slowly starts to build up guard.
She puts less time in her makeup.
But drunks continue to pick up.
She joins in shots, hopes to pass out.
But in her head she hears the shouts.
Her heart’s hunger for real love.
Her clouded thoughts rise above.
A newly turned insomniac.
No longer sleeping on her back.
Till curtains peek with starry eyes.
So bright, leaves a forceful rise.
Her sobs like strings of violin.
A void no liquor can fill in.
Despite how much she tries to drown.
The aches resonate with shrill sounds.
Another night, still found no one.
A man enters, two drinks and done.
She questions him, “What is the rush?”
Always pulled into a quick crush.
But never really tends to last.
As he mumbles about his past.
A bartender, like therapist.
As alcohol reveals the gist.
Now drunk and loud, he starts to shout.
Before his crash, he raises doubt.
He talks about, the best he lost.
Always at home, waits for the toss.
She cheers him up, when in a rut.
He gets up again, “That **** mutt!
To see her hurt, curled up in bed.
I held her paw, up till her death.”
The next night, slept pretty early.
He was perfect, brown hair curly.
Her eyes were lost, but not with lust.
Enjoyed his smells, delicious must.
A piece of her, became a part.
Happy to save his sinking heart.
Rescued him, he slept on her rug.
Named Milo, her three-legged dog.
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 12:12 PM UTC
Extravagantly exorbitant mentality panacea
Pretentious eidetic’s ubiquity mnemonics
Extraversion embezzlement extortion mens rea
Endergonic laconic cacophony phonics
Preterite rendition enclitic equilibrist motion
Mystic symbiosis dharma spiritual sky
Brusque macabre abjections the gist of the potion
Straight up forever ontology on high
Obdurately abstruse vituperatively vociferous
Juxtaposition apparition myriad avarice
Orotund sonorous diction obliquitous
Multifariously versatile nefarious nemesis
Mirador bartizan phantasmagoria aesthetics
Guidon gyration excursion integration
Sorcerous alchemizing interstitial endemics
Chaos charisma objectified tribulation
Conjurous apothegms clitoral apomixis
Exude emote surrogate extrapolation
Astral projection littoral hypotaxis
Kinetic supremacy homogeneity gravitation
Coercible coalescent cohesion dexterities
Adjunct conjunction conjecture acuity
Platonic pragmatic prosaic austerities
Extemporaneous impromptu innuendo fortuity
Propinquity habitation harbinger spectra
Perplexing paradox tenacity rostra
Intensely cogitational abstract mantra
Penumbral exigency , umbrage per contra
Theoretical incursion grandiloquent ne plus ultra
Exogamy of homoplasy sic itur ad astra
Quiescent serendipity surreal anestra
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 6:16 AM UTC
acting is a lot easier than people let you believe.
First you pick a person,
some sort of simple, easy, fun-loving personality
some range of phrases for said personality
mixed in with reactions of course, and
BAM
you got the gist.
my character is funny in the way that they're sort of me.
I'm very fake.
I've got this habit, you see, this habit of smiling and laughing.
"it's fine, it's funny we're laughing."
I'm the therapist, they come to me, I help.
I collect shards and paste them together
abandoning my own flayed pieces,
ignoring my own shattered self.
But that's okay!
See that's okay!!
Because J!
J!
J doesn't mind being stepped on!
OH ** **
J DOESN'T MIND BEING USED AND TORMENTED!
NO NO CONTINUE PLEASE!
J doesn't MIND only being talked to when others need something!
Please, go ON!
Because J!
J WILL LET YOU?
and why?
maybe it's the separation anxiety
or abandonment issues
or the fear of being alone in a general way
or a fear of being hated
maybe it's because J is so ****** use to being treated like a
******* DOORMAT!
that it doesn't even phase them anymore
it doesn't even matter anymore
it's part of the normal world
day-to-day life!
. . .
I smile a lot.
I laugh a lot.
More than most.
More than I should.
Some would argue that it's simply too much
am I trying too hard with it?
is it somehow obvious?
. . .
I left my first period to the bathroom. and proceeded to
sit down on the hate this word
and yet i couldn't cry?
WHY?
someone else was in the bathroom.
I wanted NEEDED some sort of a break
and yet J
and yet I
I could not give myself leniency.
Even alone
even if the person there didn't matter.
So when she left, a shed I still could not cry
and i split skin instead.
I had planned it for a while
nowhere near deep enough of course
couldn't be caught bleeding all around the school.
I had my blades in the bag,
I tucked them into my pocket.
some of the juice splattered itself onto tile floor
onto blue jeans
onto hate this word paper
wrapping itself around my arms,
pleading with me to please, please stop.
but who the **** cares
because
. . .
I smile a lot.
Mar 23, 2021
Mar 23, 2021 at 9:39 AM UTC
Pressure from someone else is called peer pressure
Look it up, google it, it's a thing
I apologize for the inaccuracy of my definition but you get the gist
Peer pressure is a ******* ****** bag telling you to **** his **** when you don't want to
It's when "friends" tell you to have your first shot, smoke, sniff of whatever mood altering substance they want you to consume
Just watch a crashcourse, that **** is bad for you okay
It's when you kiss someone you don't want to
When you stay out late after your curfew
When you sneak out late at night to meet the guy you have a "thing" with but everyone knows your his rebound
But peer pressure
Don't give in
All your gonna feel
Is absolute regret
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 2:23 PM UTC
Walking in a room or strutting down the street
Inside a tunnel of ignorance she steps or takes a seat
She feels the hungry glances devouring her soul
Pray that the gist of her laugh remains whole
Follow those hands running along the thin hair
Blushing as the gesture burns down in a flare
(Women are to be conquered
And you can take her with a gentle smile
She will drop all her defences
On her knees to please your diguise.)
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 9:33 AM UTC
The perfect woman
is beautiful, of course
but not too beautiful,
( enough to be objectify-able
but not so much as to be threatening)
The perfect woman
has a voice and a mind
( that she wisely decides
to leave behind)
The perfect woman
should never be heard
( unless she becomes
a part of the herd)
The perfect woman
Is benign and blind
( to everyone's faults
except her own,
which also, btw, she ought to make known,
or god forbid, she'll be harkened a *****
How rude.....)
The perfect woman
Is coy and shy
(changing her demeanor
for a girl or a guy)
The perfect woman
Does nothing wrong (yeah right)
(and still doesn't get
why she can't belong)
The perfect woman
Knows her salad forks and plates
She encourages, she nourishes
She creates,
(she waits, she waits , she waits)
The perfect woman
is an overachiever
(but readily labeled
to be a deceiver)
The perfect woman
doesn't age
doesn't dream or rebel
Oh no, dear no....
none of that outrage
The perfect woman
can be a nymph and a nun
(knows how to not show
that she knows what is fun)
The perfect woman,
is curvy but thin
each angle defined
each strand refined
with a dazzling smile
and a glowing skin
(no matter how she gets it
It's that she gets it, she gets it.)
The perfect woman
Is strong and composed
But when she's patronized
She doesn't resist...
She carries her grace
on her well turned calf
and a delicate wrist
Till it's proper and unopposed
The perfect woman
is cruel to her daughter
and kind to her son
( as she knows what it means
to be a woman
even if she forgets
that she's also one...)
The perfect woman
doesn't want to be free
you see, it's simple
She's come to terms with the very concept
That it's her destiny
Sigh.
Let's say this, let's try....
Here's the gist
The perfect woman
is either every woman
or she doesn't exist.
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 9:22 PM UTC
Vague meanings to their words,
Do I hear
Mockingbirds?
Maybe understand their gist?
Help me see, Through the mist.
Make a comment,
Do no harm,
Feels good to spread some charm.
Suddenly
I've tripped a detonator, an
Explosion of indignant words,
Come flying out.
Now mistakes, can be made,
But let's tell it straight,
People set,
Vague incendiary device's.
Jul 26, 2025
Jul 26, 2025 at 12:17 PM UTC
Sorry to...
Hit yo noes
like a brick of green
Like the grass that grow
nourished by the Celtic saints that know
Man tell a lie better make it true
if you don’t, then what do I make of you?
Now Wonder Woman
no wonder were human
bringing Brooklyn
some thunder hoodlum
My baited brown eyes look up and down you
Mile marker .66
and I’m still hitting this
crisp as a chrysalis
you may be the eyewitness
of my fist to this
more like the wittiness
of my pen tip dipped in ambergris
I get around you get the gist
healing hands I mend the cyst
with broken hands I gripped the rich
don't understand
don't worry
like Krishna I persist
zzzz Slept on like
The buzz of viciousness
**** the violence
turn the red to VIOLET
just look right through my eyes slit
Now and then
divine feminine deigned
to grace my face again
turned fake eyes to grin
false pride, double subs, and sin.
Complete appreciation, genuflected form reflected in
this fertile goddeSS
who puts the seeds in season
She see through SnakeS and reedS when
She based in wiSdom
reaSon
designed to take the basest race
from darkest depths to airs of divine space
till we’re flushed with grace
some are hushed by my ace in the whole
I'm a S33ker throwing axes
but YOU better only call me
an axehole
when
I
mis
s
.
***** simple as this.
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 12:22 AM UTC
My Country 'tis of thee
A footnote in history
Of thee I sing
I will dare to compare
for those who were not there
I will try to be fair
Of thee I sing....
My Country was very proud
My Country is full of PRIDE (Insert your rainbow flag here)
My Country was safe at night, you could leave the doors open
My Country is scarier, you don't feel safe until the deadbolts are locked and window bars are in place.
My Country was a place where you knew you could get a housecall from a doctor if needed.
My Country is a place where patients die waiting for a doctor, in the hallway no less.
My Country was amber fields of grain
My Country is Amber alerts and looking for missing children in Amber fields of grain
My Country was the CBC
My Country is satellite television with 400 channels and nothing to watch.
My Country was a place where our flag was respected world wide
My Country is a place where we are respected still....as long as it involves a puck.
My Country was leading the way into the future
My Country is always looking over it's shoulder to see what's coming
My Country was a great place to vacation with the family
My Country is The Untited States for at least 3 weeks annualy, because it's cheaper there.
My Country was strong and a world leader in science and technology
My Country is on life support.
My Country was my families first choice of a place to live
My Country is still my families first choice of a place to live...barely
My Country 'tis of thee
A footnote in history
Of Thee I sing
I hope you get the gist
There's not much I have missed
I loved, but now I'm ******
Of Thee I sing.....
Jul 10, 2012
Jul 10, 2012 at 7:26 PM UTC
A List.
The Gist of which
U Missed.
On a Tryst.
While we Kissed
You fled Bliss
And for This
I am ******
Hiss.
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 2:02 AM UTC
rosalinederricksylbert @hotmail.com
I would post her pm here but I don't know how to copy and paste on this thing but the gist of the message is
Contact me through my private email address so that I will send you my pictures and introduce myself to you. I also have some important information I will like to disclose to you
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 10:34 AM UTC
Dear,
Parents. Siblings. Friends. Lovers:
Give you this.
Give you that.
You take ten
and I take that:
NOTHING!
My shoulder? Please!
And my home too?
Progress with ease
as I wish for you.
But a moment for ME,
oh but just one,
I’d like you to SEE
just what you have done;
Sorrow and pain,
my tongue will stutter,
but through my tears
my RAGE will flutter.
Though this may be the gist
of my anger in reign,
a WALL and my fist
returns...no gain.
When Austen, Kafka, Garcia-Marquez
instead hit the wall,
ALL ties are dead.
“YOU here for me,
but not I for you.”
Is all you can see...
All you can do...
Your ear I implore,
a little sympathy too;
FRUSTRATION galore,
to hell with you!
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 7:45 PM UTC
God is spoken
From a potent Thing
we smoking Trees
Gaia birthed the bloom
breathed the boom
in the canopies,
In the wind flew the bees
and grew the pleasantries
Prana pushing
thunder through
sQuishing lemon trees
like a hundred new
Whisps of mists
and heavy deeds
Sit with honeydew
The gist of this
the lemon breeze
(We) Going tunnel view
Fits and Shakes,
seeking remedies
digging under you
Might be
dicking under you
Might be
Torn asunder true
Pirate borne to plunder you....
Sweat means gold,
what's been found
with lemon -ease?
I've been told
What in our eyes
is what we ever see's
7 seas,
more like 7 deeds,
filled with deadly feeds
Demons like to pleade
with ready rease,
Virus, the life that
spread disease
(it alters our sense
and what we please)
~Ahem,
***no te comas
la verdad
del diablo,***
today to trust
Might feel bad, but
none brought low
There's an easy in
WE Strong Standin',
N0ne brought low
and now we win
amen, a man
none start south
Its begun...
Light as
Potent as my prayers
**** the make-believe
***I can't wear it, ah
Dark is
Ever reaching
What do you receive?
***What you carrying hah?
Balance
(Is) an even preaching :
What we choose to be
***I can bear it ; hah
Come and help me unweave
those who have been so deceived
Those stuck in in the mud of ...
sputtering " how can it be ?"
**** the you or me, mentality
When Neurons Fire free
and Serotonins drained in me
You Might find Saraswati
sweetly swathing me
In glowing rivers,
poured off the moon
With Omens looming soon
With Omens looming soon
I been choking on my doom.
Dreaming
with Both eyes open
and a heart awoken ,
poorly stoking gloom
Too blind to see hope
but stoked, still
mocking roving
Vroom : im off to tokin soon.
Sh!t this blunt be totaled soon
I Might be total loon
an inverted magic man
who most often enwomb
those caught on the moon
Those stuck in the tune
For those who hear
this earworm, this tea room sloom.
This is for Those muted in zoom:
I've found traction in heaps
Breaking as hard and often
As the risen yeast
When you pass on the least
My Passion is to find
the passion of peace
its Stuck In the grasp
Fashioned with the sap
of my last energies...
May 3, 2022
May 3, 2022 at 12:27 AM UTC
learn your questions.
discern the myriad as One, and console your misery with service.
pour your fumes into the heart of mars; press pause when your gods
make you nervous. and when they don't exist, you whistle while you hurt...
as if
the Master Plan
had jokes.
but know this.
your cathedrals have killed people, and your faith was crushed -
whenever sincere. so i
bid you peace. a peace with
tranquil thoughts and night lemmings;
squealing
right over the Cliffnotes to Oblivion, in vapid terror and happy herds.
their little parachutes; cumbersome, with snapped threads to a forum, that unpack, once filled
with air and
parents .
you inherit
the edge of your vague notions.... that expand
upon dissent .
heretic tick
BOOM !
then make love, all day Wednesday
learn your questions. gain the gist
of your out-risible ignorance and invent the humor of "precise submission"
as humility will boast , enthroned above the kingdom of desire
aching hermetic in a mob. but knobs -
that turn, despite severed hands
turn Truth's *****
learn your throat.
hold only the notes to your music
to a golden standard !
Brandish your exile, like a rogue -
from it's sheath of Turin
[ and flash! ] it's blade of grasp
in Walt Whitman's
Verile Phase...
face your loved ones, but only
with the face
that got away.
return...
return unbridled and
unkempt. more windswept
than lost and found
haunted...
and remember
eat whatever
you **** well please
because
" **** Dr. Phil, Really ? "
Have you ever seen an anorexic
Buddha ?
and bought that one ?
if you have...
you might be
ascetic.
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 12:57 PM UTC
NURSE
Our mistress bids me with all speed to call
Aegisthus to the strangers, that he come
And hear more clearly, as a man from man,
This newly brought report. Before her slaves,
Under set eyes of melancholy cast,
She hid her inner chuckle at the events
That have been brought to pass--too well for her,
But for this house and hearth most miserably,--
As in the tale the strangers clearly told.
He, when he hears and learns the story's gist,
Will joy, I trow, in heart. Ah, wretched me!
How those old troubles, of all sorts made up,
Most hard to bear, in Atreus's palace-halls
Have made my heart full heavy in my breast!
But never have I known a woe like this.
For other ills I bore full patiently,
But as for dear Orestes, my sweet charge,
Whom from his mother I received and nursed . . .
And then the shrill cries rousing me o' nights,
And many and unprofitable toils
For me who bore them. For one needs must rear
The heedless infant like an animal,
(How can it else be?) as his humor serve
For while a child is yet in swaddling clothes,
It speaketh not, if either hunger comes,
Or passing thirst, or lower calls of need;
And children's stomach works its own content.
And I, though I foresaw this, call to mind,
How I was cheated, washing swaddling clothes,
And nurse and laundress did the selfsame work.
I then with these my double handicrafts,
Brought up Orestes for his father dear;
And now, woe's me! I learn that he is dead,
And go to fetch the man that mars this house;
And gladly will he hear these words of mine.
2.9k
love between poets: “who will be between the sheets next week
when I’m gone,” she lets sigh-escape,
as she watches the backyard paradise parading landscape
of animals before the bay, perfect day sure to come,
her new pets obeying the early morn sunrising awakening call
to rise, everyone playing~parading, before her royal summons,
no coincidence, finger-of-god, two by two
this while I’m kissing her neck,
my arm around her *******
and the he-intent on slip sliding down
to the small of her back,
obeying his innate,
worship worshiping and giving up,
all he’s got intense intently contentedly
unfazed, unphased,
non-nonplussed,
he’s been interrogated before,
heart is pure he answers:
next weekend when you are back in situ,
thousands of miles away, airplane housed for hours,
writing poems of love from the lost and found,
recalling this exact moment,
how I worshipped your presence,
and these words:
You will be with me in every breath,
our sheets will radioactively emit
ions and molecules of our scent combined,
and present as present your perfume can be,
elicited, elixir, you and me combinant
she turns from the bay-view,
the animals who now mutually
worship her adoration,
watching, focused on us as observers,
she lifts me up and smiles,
replying*
“oh my lover you’re the cad of cads,
king of the baddest poet-lads,
the gist of what is wrong with the best of men,
her, pressing me hard to her chestnut hair chest,
she, falling down into my eyes
take me back to bed, liar,
let me add to my aroma,
to ensue, to ensure you will miss
the best love
you had partly, insufficiently, and unhinged
completely
I’m your lassie, you my lad,
my king of cads, my lover poet,
thief of my poems and my secret speech spells,
escalating senses of one’s imaginings”*
and,
along came the rest
of what was freely given,
for love between poets
man and
a woman,
is a someone, somewhere,
sometime summertime
thing
*I will still smell you in my
heart, and send to you ballistic missives,
words to explode your tear ducts
when you rest in sheets that met me,
when you’ll know me by my odors,
cry out loud so that you’ll scare our animals,
no matter how many tides wash away our residue,
you will never unknow and be forever unprepared
for my return,*
even though we will be each, a thousand unwritten poems away...
Jul 13, 2019
Jul 13, 2019 at 11:07 AM UTC
Love me like you do.
Like a needle in a haystack
is true love me and you.
Trustworthy friend also you.
An hp's haystack found, miracle.
A loving soul, treasure icecle.
In the law of attraction, true love
attracts like, and in a notch of good fortune opposites must intimately attract true lovez entanglement
Is an intricate weave,
of LOVEz for two in one loop.
I found a twin matching soul.
A magnet in both our midst,
receptiveness open mind exist.
Intellectual genius in heart.
its gist, portal and bridge.
Uncovering vast blessings
his needle in my haystack,
just came to me, as bee
to pollen in essence,
his needle found me.
Now retaining such find and
price takes sculpture in mind.
Keeping it requires an equal
enterprise a twin needle's vise
Or my fire and ice!
In love and war it's wise,
To tingle our rhyme with rice.
To never part, it takes more pie
than luck, poem, or needle in eye.
I once was blind, but now I see
Through our fire in ice.
~~~~
BY: Karijinbba.
All Rights Reserved - revised
08+2021.
Aug 6, 2021
Aug 6, 2021 at 11:27 AM UTC
The Secrets
It is mind which brings for what you yearn;
This is the gist of book by Byrne.
“Thoughts are contagious.” I changed mine.
“Let them be positive” said Einstein
Energy, frequency and vibes you ever knew
Are the secrets in Tesla's view.
What Buddha had told made my head reel;
“You can attract what you feel.”
“If you think you lack nothing” said Lao Tzu
“The whole world belongs to you.”
S. Bharat
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 12:06 PM UTC
I grew up in a family
Where there was more
questions than outcomes.
The pain numbing me
for a change to come
Learning from the gist of things.
I still feel from all my learning
I am not the brightest but far from dumb
I am not going to fail my son
Trials in traveling
I am facing everything
I am in need to become.
They pray and they plot
My soul will not rot
I am going to the top
Sit back and watch.
Get in the way. Get dropped.
Albums coming in stock.
Stories will hit the block.
Don't test me. I lost a lot.
None of it's fake it's no mirage.
Mirror me back, and blend in
without camouflage
I go hard as Smith
You will get Rocked.
I will steal my own life
before you take all I got
Nah I never stop.
Never feared any op
You over here looking lost.
Fools think I'm soft.
You just full of talk
You wanna go with me?
We gonna run through roadblocks.
You ain't ready to walk
Don't make yourself a mark.
I'm silent as the dark.
Quarrels with my absent counterpart.
Obliterate. I am shattering
your mind from a far.
I burn with the shine of a star.
I got the key for you
if you lacking the heart.
Reminder to my child
make the moves that are smart!
Real talk.
Jul 27, 2022
Jul 27, 2022 at 4:38 AM UTC
THE SIGN arrived, with masking tape,
stuck upon the door.
TRASH BAG WARNING
it yelled
(with smiley face)
~I cannot see the floor!~
A sigh was heard
- by all the house -
the sign read ALOUD, once more.
**CRASH
&
BANG,**
soon followed it, as my Batgirl
>slammed< her door!
And maybe,
there was a curse or two;
Beneath her breath repeated.
But
life went on,
with nothing wrong &
the pile of stuff depleted!
Although,
it took the loudest hour,
'til Batgirl opened her door.
Trash bag tied with masking tape
& 'the amended sign' re-applied
***"NB:
Holy tidy rooms,
Batgirls' done it!
DONE & DUSTED***
Whilst the P.S. made us both smile...
**(Obviously not literally dusted, Mum,
but even you, The Joker, can get the gist!)"**
For-given the prior scene of teenage devastation... Batgirls' reply had been superhero swift!
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 3:08 PM UTC
I see you in my dreams..
Yes dreams.
I mean they used to be nightmares
But that little girl who used to have fears?
The fear of you coming after her again
The fear of you taking what was truly hers from the beginning
The fear of you hurting her again?
That girl is dead!
Who killed her you may ask?
You.. *******
See you took away my forgiving heart
The heart that did not believe in revenge
I used to think an vengeance was a *****
And breeds anger, causing the past to impinge on the future
But that was until you came into my life
And took away my dignity, my pride..
My youthful exuberance
Now I'm not that naïve little girl you hurt..
I am like Judas 'la Scarriott
The man who sold Jesus
Man, I am now as brutal as Satan himself
Call me anti-christ if you may
And you are my slave.
You are like Thanks-Giving turkey stuck in the gist of my throat
And I?
**** I need to puke!
Who do you think you are heh?
A boss? A king?
Living by "This is a man's world" ?
Going around taking what doesn't belong to you?
Well meet me, I am the Devil
And you are just my spawn
I'd call you a son of a ***** but ***** my nikka?
is an understatement for whoever it is that bore you
Entlek you too are a *****
Remember when I said "Please" and you said "No" ?
That was the day, man, was the day
You killed the last grain of light I had within me
I now embody hatred and evil within me..
I now live by the timeless creed "revenge is sweet"
I am like the shaman, "That's a cute word for witch"
And shamans do not forgive..
I shall seek vengeance, get a knife
A gun even..
So ***** You better watch you ***** back..
And sleep with one eye open
Because my name is Thuto Gaasenwe..
... And I'm coming for your ***
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 4:25 PM UTC
The ranch-bound bovines, in dehydration,
yet wary of Kool-aid, declined to drink.
They grazed in wonder, cowed rumination:
where does “beef” come from? A herd tends to think
of pasturage, water, and basic needs.
Ranch-hands assured them all was in order;
privileged guests enjoy the finest feeds.
Cows, content on this side of the border
try Buddhism, yoga – or simply gaze…
though things in the distance loomed ominous
(those lots at the edge of the well-hoofed ways)
– and a stench wafted into their consciousness.
Yet calves frolicked on while the bulls mounted heifers –
dreamed vegan dreams as they nibbled grasses
some earned doctorates, others went clubbing;
all loosed sustainable methane gases.
Soothing their calves with fables and stories
where cows are the measure of pastured life
they deflected the gist of the young ones’ queries,
affirming that Truth means avoidance of strife.
“It’s best to just graze. Don’t ask questions dear.
We’re on this planet without any clue.
We evolved. From just what is a little unclear –
but Cow Science has proved that it’s true.”
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:35 PM UTC