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"hatefulness" poems
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries. Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin' in my own back yard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may **** me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history's shame I rise Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.
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Still I Rise
You think you’ve broken me down that I’ll never stand again, you think with hateful words you’ve landed the big win. So you think you know me… I’m a pushover because I’m kind don’t underestimate, I actually have a powerful mind! You don’t know the whole of it and never, you truly will, unlike you, I could never hurt another out of hatefulness or thrill! You are powerful with judgment and you think you give a great show, so go ahead, pick up that rock give it a good hard throw! But, remember this sweetheart actually, it’s something you should know, karma pays back in triple YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW! I’d tread a little more lightly if I were YOU, all that hatefulness you put out well, eventually darlin, that bills gonna come due! ~
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Dec 24, 2017
Dec 24, 2017 at 9:39 PM UTC
You Reap What You Sow
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I’ll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries? Does my haughtiness offend you? Don’t you take it awful hard ‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines Diggin’ in my own backyard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may **** me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I’ve got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise. From And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou. Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou.
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Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 2:39 AM UTC
Still I Rise (Maya Angelou, 1928 - 2014)
I may only be seventeen years old, but I can already tell you this that I am sick and tired I am sick of the people who are judgmental and the people who are unkind The people who tell Atheists they are going to hell and the people who mock Christians for wanting something to believe in I’m sick of the hateful way people speak to each other and how everyone tries to form some kind of negative opinion about one another I’m sick of the bullies in school who drive kids to suicide and the parents who never taught them to be kind I’m sick of macho boys thinking its cool to hate and easy girls with zero self-esteem but more than that I'm sick of the society that made them feel this way I’m tired of the snobs who turn up their noses at self-expression and of the hipsters frowning upon the so called conformist squares I’m tired of making my own life choices based on a fear of someone else’s negative reaction I’m tired of people who look for the flaws in my life instead of basking in the beauty of their own. I am fed up with people who complain about the clinically depressed and the people who spitefully use their own rain cloud to block out the sun I’m fed up with people who don't know how share and people who take advantage of their friends I’m fed up with cheaters, liars and the inconsiderate All in all I am fed up with cruelty itself It serves no purpose other than to blind people from the beautiful reality of our lives Hatefulness needs only to be replaced by love and acceptance and then perhaps there will be an overall higher level of happiness
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Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
Sick and Tired
I may only be seventeen years old, but I can already tell you this that I am sick and tired I am sick of the people who are judgmental and the people who are unkind The people who tell Atheists they are going to hell and the people who mock Christians for wanting something to believe in I’m sick of the hateful way people speak to each other and how everyone tries to form some kind of negative opinion about one another I’m sick of the bullies in school who drive kids to suicide and the parents who never taught them to be kind I’m sick of macho boys thinking its cool to hate and easy girls with zero self-esteem but more than that I'm sick of the society that made them feel this way I’m tired of the snobs who turn up their noses at self-expression and of the hipsters frowning upon the so called conformist squares I’m tired of making my own life choices based on a fear of someone else’s negative reaction I’m tired of people who look for the flaws in my life instead of basking in the beauty of their own. I am fed up with people who complain about the clinically depressed and the people who spitefully use their own rain cloud to block out the sun I’m fed up with people who don't know how share and people who take advantage of their friends I’m fed up with cheaters, liars and the inconsiderate All in all I am fed up with cruelty itself It serves no purpose other than to blind people from the beautiful reality of our lives Hatefulness needs only to be replaced by love and acceptance and then perhaps there will be an overall higher level of happiness
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You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries. Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin' in my own back yard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may **** me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history's shame I rise Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.
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Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 1:18 AM UTC
Still I Rise-Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries. Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin' in my own back yard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may **** me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history's shame I rise Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise. By maya angelou
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Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 3:00 PM UTC
I still rise
By Arcassin Burnham Don't want this fling to end, Lay your head on my chest with a silent voice, Boiling blood and painted feelings Fill the void oooooh, Skin touching feeling your indulgences, My condolences R.I.p to all the hatefulness, I cherish you life itself in Hopes to have you here again, Miss ***** blonde, With freckles and an mild attitude, I want to be a jokster, I didn't want to be rude, I didn't mean to lead you on, I know that might have been cruel.
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Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 7:18 PM UTC
***** Blonde"
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may tread me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries. Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin' in my own back yard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may **** me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history's shame I rise Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.
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Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
Still, I rise
She says I have a ness about me, a sadness, an angriness, a hatefulness, a loch ness. I haven't washed my hoodie in a week, the toothpaste splatter on my shoulder looks like come, maybe it's laziness.
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Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 12:33 PM UTC
Yukimi.
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may tread me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries. Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin' in my own back yard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may **** me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history's shame I riseup from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise
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Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 1:34 PM UTC
I Rise
you may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted lies, you may tread me in the very dirt, but still, like dust, I’ll rise does my clumsiness upset you? why are you beset with gloom? ‘cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells pumping in my living room. just like moons and like suns, with the certainty of tides, just like hopes springing high, still I’ll rise did you want to see me broken? bowed head and lowered eyes? shoulders falling down like teardrops weakened by my soulful cries. does my haughtiness offend you? don’t take it awful hard ‘cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines diggin’ in my own backyard. you may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may **** me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I’ll rise. does my hotness upset you? does it come as a surprise? that I dance like I’ve got diamonds at the meething of my thighs? out of the huts of history’s shame I rise up from a past that’s been rooted in pain I rise I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide, welling and swelling I bear in the tide. leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear I rise bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, i am the dream and hope of the slave. i rise i rise i rise — A.P.
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Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 1:53 AM UTC
still I rise
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I’ll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries? Does my haughtiness offend you? Don’t you take it awful hard ‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines Diggin’ in my own backyard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may **** me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I’ve got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.
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Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
Still I Rise Maya Angelou, 1928 - 2014
i want to wish for revenge but i can't because i want to be everything you are not so i cannot be vengeful and i cannot be driven by hatefulness or the intent to cause others misery, because i hate you and that's what you'd do and that's what you've done and that's what fueled this disease to begin with i want you to hurt i want you to bleed the same way as i with blood that's thin with skepticism at the pain that refuses to see itself physically i want you to wake up one day and see how alone you are i want you to wake up and see how miserable you are i want you to wake up and see your paper castle disappear
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Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 11:03 PM UTC
paper castle
my mind is constantly going going and going and going worried about the day head and still trapped in yesterday i'm always dreaming about the future but hardly do I sleep even though i walk this earth in a visibly awoken state subconsciously unknowingly my sanity is weak trust a higher power is what they say but even that we cannot see or touch who's to say god is real anyway? walk with me let me show what it is i speak because to explain in spoken word is something not of my expertise so i will paint you a picture in poetry place yourself in cloth sneakers standing in the middle of the rain arms open wide head tilted back and when the lightening strikes you'll feel a wave of pain you see the storm will let up, and you'll see a slight break in the clouds but you'll never fully see the sun that's what my life is like now and in all this going and going and going i must rest my weary head while nightmares make the best of bad weather planting the damnest of seed as slight as a feather fear worry fright anger sadness happiness delight sickness wellness day night grief loathing pity spite jealousy hatefulness weakness fight acceptance willingness wrong right if there's anything you haven't felt at some moment you will feel for the mind is a tricky being that may fascinate you into your very own doom because in your waking life you won't know what is and isn't real walk with me i think about life i think about death i think about time i've wasted i think about time i have left i think about my future i think about my past i think about my happiness i think how long it may last i think about god i think about faith i think about my love i think how long will he stay i think about who i am i think of who i am to be i think of my imprisonment i think of being free i think of my thoughts i think of my fears i think of leaving this place i think as if i'm still here who's to say i've succumb to my mind i am well aware that what i search for may be something i'll never find peace does it truly exist? or is it a place in our imagination? a place of harmonic endeavors a place where our souls may finally seek self proclamation a place we may finally rest our hearts in full adoration and acclamation what's that you say? peace? walk with me
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 6:33 AM UTC
Thoughts
my mind is constantly going going and going and going worried about the day head and still trapped in yesterday i'm always dreaming about the future but hardly do I sleep even though i walk this earth in a visibly awoken state subconsciously unknowingly my sanity is weak trust a higher power is what they say but even that we cannot see or touch who's to say god is real anyway? walk with me let me show what it is i speak because to explain in spoken word is something not of my expertise so i will paint you a picture in poetry place yourself in cloth sneakers standing in the middle of the rain arms open wide head tilted back and when the lightening strikes you'll feel a wave of pain you see the storm will let up, and you'll see a slight break in the clouds but you'll never fully see the sun that's what my life is like now and in all this going and going and going i must rest my weary head while nightmares make the best of bad weather planting the damnest of seed as slight as a feather fear worry fright anger sadness happiness delight sickness wellness day night grief loathing pity spite jealousy hatefulness weakness fight acceptance willingness wrong right if there's anything you haven't felt at some moment you will feel for the mind is a tricky being that may fascinate you into your very own doom because in your waking life you won't know what is and isn't real walk with me i think about life i think about death i think about time i've wasted i think about time i have left i think about my future i think about my past i think about my happiness i think how long it may last i think about god i think about faith i think about my love i think how long will he stay i think about who i am i think of who i am to be i think of my imprisonment i think of being free i think of my thoughts i think of my fears i think of leaving this place i think as if i'm still here who's to say i've succumb to my mind i am well aware that what i search for may be something i'll never find peace does it truly exist? or is it a place in our imagination? a place of harmonic endeavors a place where our souls may finally seek self proclamation a place we may finally rest our hearts in full adoration and acclamation what's that you say? peace? walk with me
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You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may **** me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise. Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise again and again.
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Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 7:29 AM UTC
Hope
Those multitudes of sin are variations on a theme - A reflection of the heart's wickedness and all the evil that Satan deems. He himself, suffering from hatefulness and hurt, does exploit physicality's weakness in Man. For Satan's attacks continue from his being - Eternally condemned and forever ****** In a false semblance of our God, the count of unique sins is three in a twisted parallel of... The sacred number of Trinity. Opposing the Christ in wilderness' testing he perceived the Lord's flesh failing, but not the Spirit's strength in handling a confrontation with the Kingdom without ending. These concepts -the Earthly Pride of Life coupled with the Lust of the Flesh and of the Eyes- maintain our separation from God as the Devil manipulates, through deceiving lies. The boldness of the Savior's Truth and the Christ's everlasting victory (as demonstrated by Him at Calvary) provide True Life, when you just believe. Author Notes: Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
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Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 11:48 AM UTC
Poem: Original Sins
i. Ladies and Gentlemen Could you please form a wide aisle For our performers As they pass by you Admire these freaks of nature Only here today ii. Bound to each other For their own safety of course They will not harm you They have been trained well Jumping through rings for your sick Need to feel power We keep them well fed A diet of hatefulness Discrimination iii. Can you believe it? These freaks are barely human Yet they think like that We give it to them What they want. A tiny taste Of equality Keep them satisfied Shut them up for a short time Filthy, greedy freaks iv. One step in the right direction does not a marathon make, my dear.
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Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 8:57 PM UTC
Welcome to the Circus
I yearn your touch the minute it's taken away. But yet I stray Emotions imprisoned - I've been torn before Ripped apart into tiny pieces The destruction of my paper ligaments Seemed to be justice I excreted nothing but hatefulness You and I paint the perfect portrait The embodiment of colliding souls Yet I'm suffocating with this corset I pull the strings tight till I'm cold - Breathless. Filled with morbid Thoughts You brought me to life My soul soars To new heights containing no strife Craving nothing but more More of you till the afterlife Does us part. My past comes to haunt me A constant reminder Of the previous killing spree   It tries to slaughter My heart and the love we Share - you and I - I and you. I seek to show you The passion encaged within me But it's lost in the maze I fell into. Each time I let go of the cowardice My heart turns blue   Sinking deeper - powerless. Who's to say it won't be slain again - but this time No potion to spare my grime.
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Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC
Love Massacre
I am retooling myself Into the man, who honors integrity with daily exercise, Into the words of a poem, a new stanza added daily, Into the notes of a song, yet to be complete, Into the symphony p, a theme that lifts, soaring above the commonplace, Into the jewel multifaceted, colors deep and husky, Into the essences of love, always learning, dispensing hatefulness, Into the fury of a great warrior ennobled with heroism, Into the dexterity of fingers that dispense living kindness, Into the vibrancy of an orchid, born from tiny seed and falls soil, Into the vessel science and technology constantly reforms, evolute, Into the words of a book before his eyes, before closing time, clutched with purebred pride.
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Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 6:07 PM UTC
Retooling Myself
Extra! Extra! This just in: Hatefulness Is the new trend. Forget tolerance Empathy and being kind, Why burden ourselves With an open mind? So we keep our minds closed, But we open our mouths, Speaking of things We know nothing about. We're shouting hot air With no substance to fill it. We spread hate but preach love Then point out hypocrites. We blame everyone else And claim innocence although We're building walls With the stones we throw. We're so advanced But so behind, We've got 20/20 But we act like we're blind.
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Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 9:49 PM UTC
Stones We Throw
Swans drone and thrash filling every square inch of air in this room of solitary confinement I've got feelings, need to get 'em out To fall upon the deafness of every ear in this house, disbelieving The cacophony soothes me somehow But I fall asleep listening for phantoms trapped in white noise Sometimes it's the only way As the stress of the day won't let up and it stretches all the way into the lonely hours of night that are more accurately referred to as the early morning That transition is usually lost with sleep and dreams Unless sleep and dreams are playing hide and seek The noise of Swans comes as close to anything in giving a sound to the stiffness of my mind and the heavy weight in my heart The mean streak, can it be forgiven or forgotten? I have something to blame But integrity keeps me from pointing fingers My greatest wish is to either be Smart enough to grasp the worlds philosophies Or so dumb they don't mean a freakin' thing to me I'm tired of existing in the halfway point between the poles Tired of courting hatefulness Knowing it's not me Hosting a wretched spirit with dark thoughts and self loathing Knowing knowing knowing knowing knowing My Father Who art in Heaven Hold my cowardice not against me Let there be justice in this one thing I ask As I lay me down to sleep Let not the morning sunrise stir my soul Lost in deep unconsciousness I offer one final breath Take it, Lord, and give me not another inhalation Set my spirit free while my lanky body hardens 'neath the quilt my grandma made for me Show me the mystery of all that lies ahead And let not those I left behind cry that I am dead May their mourning bring them peace and when it ends much joy I'm not suggesting you made a mistake But I just don't belong here So when I close my eyes tonight I will squint, hold the lids down hard and tight And finally pray You'll make it all right Please let my spirit drift listlessly into the night In the name of your precious Son Amen
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Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 1:01 AM UTC
Struggling With the Invisible
Swans drone and thrash filling every square inch of air in this room of solitary confinement I've got feelings, need to get 'em out To fall upon the deafness of every ear in this house, disbelieving The cacophony soothes me somehow But I fall asleep listening for phantoms trapped in white noise Sometimes it's the only way As the stress of the day won't let up and it stretches all the way into the lonely hours of night that are more accurately referred to as the early morning That transition is usually lost with sleep and dreams Unless sleep and dreams are playing hide and seek The noise of Swans comes as close to anything in giving a sound to the stiffness of my mind and the heavy weight in my heart The mean streak, can it be forgiven or forgotten? I have something to blame But integrity keeps me from pointing fingers My greatest wish is to either be Smart enough to grasp the worlds philosophies Or so dumb they don't mean a freakin' thing to me I'm tired of existing in the halfway point between the poles Tired of courting hatefulness Knowing it's not me Hosting a wretched spirit with dark thoughts and self loathing Knowing knowing knowing knowing knowing My Father Who art in Heaven Hold my cowardice not against me Let there be justice in this one thing I ask As I lay me down to sleep Let not the morning sunrise stir my soul Lost in deep unconsciousness I offer one final breath Take it, Lord, and give me not another inhalation Set my spirit free while my lanky body hardens 'neath the quilt my grandma made for me Show me the mystery of all that lies ahead And let not those I left behind cry that I am dead May their mourning bring them peace and when it ends much joy I'm not suggesting you made a mistake But I just don't belong here So when I close my eyes tonight I will squint, hold the lids down hard and tight And finally pray You'll make it all right Please let my spirit drift listlessly into the night In the name of your precious Son Amen
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Bowie State University Student, Richard Collins III, Commissioned as a second lieutenant, Will not graduate. Have you heard? On the path to serving his nation In many more ways than one, Collins' life was quickly ended. Another mother lost her son. Standing with friends, minding his business, Collins--as witnesses will attest-- Was stabbed by a homegrown, racist terrorist-- Stabbed directly in the chest. Who was the killer? Sean Urbanski, A current student at UMD, Also a member of Alt-Reich: Nation, A truth of a painful reality. Emboldened by white supremacists Working in the White House, no less, Racist groups are on the rise, Spreading their loathsome hatefulness. They say that Collins was brutally murdered Because of the color of his skin. He was murdered because of hatred, For hatred is racism's twin. Resist the scourge of discrimination. Mobilize--it's never too late-- To extirpate ALL forms Of ugly, white-supremacist hate. -by Bob B (5-23-17)
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May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 7:31 PM UTC
The Death of Richard Collins III
Did you support that Donald Trump in his campaign last year? Why didn't all his hatefulness fill you with dread and fear? Did you believe his B.S. or did you hate Hillary so much that you preferred a **** who likes to grab pu--y? At some point did you realize the truth he cannot tell, when he fibbed about inaugural crowds and voter fraud as well? When he misled you on healthcare, did you finally agree that lying just like breathing; both come to him naturally? And what about his henchmen, tangled up with Russian ties to the Kremlin and the oligarchs, in cahoots with Putin's spies? When Trump heaped praise on Vladimir, were you just too blind to see, or did you hope that your leader would be Comrade Trumpsky? Oh how could this have happened? What an awful, global mess! A big buffoon's in power, do you finally confess? Did your vote help to elect him? To the Whitehouse was he sent because in a fit of madness, you said "Trump for President"?! 'cause in a fit of madness, you said TRUMP-FOR-PRESIDENT?!
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Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 7:19 PM UTC
Voter Regret?
Smoke suffocating, screams letting deaf babies’, moms’ and, old ones are helpless Blood spreads everywhere, from the bodies. Stop lynching, and give up hatefulness look at world from Warsak Road, O man Palestine, Kabul, Iraq, leave them spirit is one, dialect is not same His devotee doesn't accept defeat think in hurry, when you find, morn, eve your slaughterhouse, tactics are useless they will not be able to withstand and will welcome as the Berlin wall
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Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 11:36 PM UTC
ALL THINGS ARE GOING TO DECAY
The view is sure something. It can bring happiness. Hatefulness. Blasphemous brooding souls. And in this land that we thought was make believe. Does standing your ground. Seem so frivolous. For nor only does the terrain shift. In time so does the direction of your feet. Every memory dropped into a specific mail slot. Faces it's very own sandstorm. Deteriorating. As we try and look back on those ancient feelings. Yet the TV is set to static. And the remote lost in the forgotten cotton sea. Dripping both wisdom and. Stupidity.. For there is not a single conscious organism. That will forge and cater the very destruction. Of its own distorted existence. Like us.
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Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 12:11 PM UTC
Distortion