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SOLDIER OF FORTUNE
Book down both my idleness and memories,
Come the 52nd summer, through ship to ship
The last sail from city to city, the perturb To Contempt
Thy will at time remain snub, hath my time being
Hoaxed with an irony to bare my dream, for my family,
my slug Hit the deepest of my wish, with an arm to an
Armor, though my gentle verse never indulge volitionary,
What’s Worth in me hath grown, neither my dream
Extant, to whom shall I sell? Thy portrait reckon without
understanding The captivity my dreams, to whom
shall I cry My bootless fate?, Hast thee forsaken  me?
Thou art trouble me not , Thee Succeed  anyone
In an unflagging quest for a word, though art’s will
For sinners, saint and believers never change
Craig Dotti Jan 2010
Part I. When the Saguaro Cactus Blooms

“All mountains everywhere are being worn down by frost, snow and ice.”

“In the brief arctic summer grasses thrive, but too little energy reaches the ground for trees to grow.”

“When Nubian Ibex dual with their horns, the tussles can last up to an hour if the opponents are evenly matched.”

“Rainforest covers only three percent of the Earth, but contains more than half its plants and animals”

“The Shark is faster on a straight course, but can’t turn as sharply as a seal.”

“Throughout much of nature, life is built on decay.”

“Earth’s journey round the sun creates the four seasons, in most places. In the tropics, the sun strikes the earth head- on year round, temperatures barely change.”

“The Great Island of New Guinea harbors forty-two species of birds of paradise, each more bizarre than the last.”  

“As always, where life thrives, trouble follows.”

“Each year a single tree can **** up hundreds of tons of water through the roots, but the trees can’t use all this water so much of it returns to the air as vapor from the leaves on the branches”

“Every year three-million caribou migrate across the frozen Canadian Tundra. Some herds travel over two-thousand miles a year in search of fresh pastures. This is the longest over-land migration of any animal.”

Part II. And Your Bird Can Sing

From my position as being something
Other than what I am now, I saw
the planet Earth which is too impossible to be true.

I saw that land never stands above water.
Water simply allows the tired earth to rest upon its shoulders.

I see places where nothing is alive, save the maggots that feed off themselves,
amongst the cathedral of stalactites and stalagmites and lakes of acid.
No one ever said Hell wouldn’t be beautiful.

I see what was once mountains, now little more than slender, awkward
pillars into the sky. Withered away by an unwavering wind
That blew rigid rock as easy as it might blow
a leaf on the streets of city.

I see that spring even touches the most arctic of locals.
and that you can freeze in a desert that you can fry in.

I see for the first time, the tree as the inverse of itself;
branches into sky, roots into earth.
And I suddenly question paper and hard-wood floors.

And animals,
which we so often chose to deny as our neighbors and brethren.

I met with the Amur Leopard, rare as jewel,
Never before seen,
Destined to lose his home or his fur coat
To the likes of a Russian czarina.

I laugh at the penguin, the sausage of the bird family
and marvel at its audacity to survive
in places its unthreatening, unimpressive body should not.

And in the shark’s eye I saw, as it leaped out of the water
finally engulfing the once allusive seal,
the grace of god, the face of ******
at 1/50th of  the normal speed.

I came across baboons wading through flooded plains
walking upright through the shallow waters,
holding their young above the depths,
predecessors to a two-legged, less noble cousin.

I witnessed nearly every animal fight each other for supremacy,
with the same savagery we do,
but with less discrimination as to who they combat with.

I noticed that countless animals disguise themselves.
Frogs as rocks of exotic hues. Foxes as bushes seemingly on fire.
Bugs as flowers not yet in bloom.
I think I’ll hide myself as a whale
with a harpoon in his side.


I watch male birds of paradise attempt to sing, yell, peck and dance
themselves into a lady bird’s heart;
their Pavarotti, their Don Juanian exploits, their best Baryshnikov
yield them no love, yet my undying admiration is theirs.

I long to be a part of a flock of birds or school of fish,
who seem seamlessly connected by one mind(interwoven by the urge to move)


I see the flower and the fungi bloom, the latter off the former,
in stop-motion photography
I wish to see myself grow in stop-motion.

I swam next to two whales;
a large one whose eyes said to the smaller one,
“I’ll starve for you.”
a small one whose eyes said,
“I will lose my mother when the water is warm.”

I walked with caribou, transient as I am.
Just searching for a place to call home,
both of us knowing that the only stable thing in
life is continuous change.

Part III. Rivers Do Run Dry (See Grand Canyon)

Years later it would be discovered that “HD TV” did not in fact stand for High Definition Television, but rather Hoaxed Depiction Television. Indeed nothing we saw in “HD” was in actually real; rather it was highly doctored images created by the media powers that be. This would explain seemingly implausible animals, landscapes and natural phenomenon seen in the BBC series Planet Earth. Cryptic statements made by the narrator of the documentary (who turned out to not actually be British or a man) such as, “This is the first and last time this spectacle has ever been documented on film.” Ironically, these claims by the narrator are the only truths the entire project has to offer. The images never will be seen again in nature due to the fact that they were fabricated in a Hollywood warehouse.
Jeanine Fae Borg May 2016
In fairytales and fantasies,
My parents would always say,
That a Magician so talented,
Would someday find his way.

And what way should he seek?
In fields of dust and harrowed meek,
And in his path he should depart,
Into my beating heart.

But he is a Magician after all,
A bewitcher, a deceiver, a devil at the ball.
Who tricked and hoaxed me,
By the time of nightfall.

So curse you Magician,
And the lies you have said,
After all your trickery,
Was that you never cared.


J.F.B
Maria Mitea Jun 2020
This is the time of enlightenment.

Sunday morning I am running at the farm market,
for buying three pounds of organic enlightenment,
Glutes tight, chest stiff,

Every single step is planned and marked on the asphalt,
I have an important goal to reach, not to teach.

I am in a big rush, stay away and keep the road clean,
You know what I mean. Unfortunately,

A little bird pooped on my forehead and made me mad,
Hoaxed by this joke I stepped on some dog ****,

That got me mad even more, while an old lady asked me
to carry her over the pit. I mimic, wait

“I hurry now, but I will give help after,
I buy three pounds of organic enlightenment”

Without messing up with any acceptance.
I have an important goal to reach, not to teach,

I keep running, every Sunday morning at the farm market,

This is the time of enlightenment.
180
Let not today, be the day you are hoaxed by metal amalgam coated glass.
Let not today, be the day your inner sleeping beauty,
Oblivious to her own existence, continues her slumber.
Allow my lips to kiss your soul and render your demons dead.

Let today, be the day you dispose of all those shattered glass pieces of stained fallacious images.
Let today, be the day you permit me to be your mirror,
Scrutinizing every centimeter of your body,
Showing you all the things your eyes and mirror feared to.
Let today, be the day we conquer those fears.


Let today, be everyday.
- d.b.d.
OnlyEggy Jan 2011
Screams of the deranged
Into the night, full of fury
Black tipped roses arranged
Into a vase, ribbon laced
Medicated mind, controlled
Within the one to be used
Experimental abuse, skin cold
Sand slips down the time-keep

"Do it." whispers the black-tipped petals of roses

Whispering thoughts of the ******
Is this love?     Yes
Ropes tied tighter with a lustful hand
Bruises reaching inner soul
Soul of a single rose is dropped
As a loving plea is softly spoken
Fading voice immediately popped
Pleasure for the drugged mind

"Do it!" chuckles the blackening petals of roses

Slowing sands in the time-keep, felled
Sobering mind on drugged love
Unmedicated reality unveiled
Sorrowful hands loosen bands
Crows flurry in flight, startled
As sobs of hurt fight the drugs
worthless     blur is fading, unfurled
Bodies on the floor of pain
Shouts of anger as a soul slipped
Was it lust? Was it drugs?
Medicated hell was dipped
Too far? Too dark?
Breath of life gasps, forced

"Do it!" hisses the reddening petals of roses

Promises are made, real or hoaxed?
Liar
Was it life saved or life spared?
If promise of healing is true
Then life has been saved
But if the fallacy of the addicted
Proves to be too strong to resist
Then the sands will flow uncorrected
And the roses shall again fade to black.
Another Insomniac Poem
Àŧùl Apr 2016
Sweet talks you jinxed me,
On fingers you puppetted me,
Go, go, go get lost you vamp!
Innocent voice you hoaxed me,
By your pretty tunes you lured me,
Go, go, go get lost you vamp!

When you were upset with me,
Did not I try to make you smile,
But you ditched me to rot alone!
When all conspired against you,
Did not I stand stiff by your side,
But you sniffed him shamelessly!

When you were least expecting it,
Did not I write romance songs to you,
If not songs always, they're poems.
When you were there wasn't I happy,
Did not I plead you to stay forever,
If not forever intended, you told lies.

I thought that you were my sweet,
My pretty, so beautiful living doll,
But alas! I loved only a stone idol.

Now just get lost from my memories!
My HP Poem #1062
©Atul Kaushal
Rose Alley Apr 2013
Your rants and raves are really jokes
Not everything that happens is planned and hoaxed
You live your life in paranoid anxiety
'The government is out to get me!'
All events are viewed as conspiracy
Even in light of true tragedy

You put a spin on victims emotions
Insisting there must be more to the story
You thrive on scandals
They're like handles that drive you
Your rumors humor me

We watch the news as politicians falsify
Every word said is meant to forward their cons and lies
However this may be the deception you crave
Just go with the gossip
It's all crime
It's all fraud
It's all hearsay

They all have schemes
They all have scams
But will you allow their crimes
To cheat and swindle their way into your mind?

Of course you will
Buying into fake feelings
You fabricate your reality
We can't remove their ***** linen
So why don't we all commit
Treacherous treason?

By all means be aware and informed
But be fair warned
Our opinions play an insignificant role
In issues that go beyond our control

The Internet has proven itself a poisonous tool
I'm using it to show you that you are all fools
Myself included

Get a grip and
Lighten up
Lets make the most of it
Because apparently
It's all corrupt
Mike Essig Apr 2015
To Be Governed**

“To be GOVERNED is to be watched, inspected, spied upon, directed, law-driven, numbered, regulated, enrolled, indoctrinated, preached at, controlled, checked, estimated, valued, censured, commanded, by creatures who have neither the right nor the wisdom nor the virtue to do so. To be GOVERNED is to be at every operation, at every transaction noted, registered, counted, taxed, stamped, measured, numbered, assessed, licensed, authorized, admonished, prevented, forbidden, reformed, corrected, punished. It is, under pretext of public utility, and in the name of the general interest, to be placed under contribution, drilled, fleeced, exploited, monopolized, extorted from, squeezed, hoaxed, robbed; then, at the slightest resistance, the first word of complaint, to be repressed, fined, vilified, harassed, hunted down, abused, clubbed, disarmed, bound, choked, imprisoned, judged, condemned, shot, deported, sacrificed, sold, betrayed; and to crown all, mocked, ridiculed, derided, outraged, dishonored. That is government; that is its justice; that is its morality."
Not all poems are about love.
Asonna Mar 2018
Healthy heart hurts, hesitantly.
Her hollow home hears him. Horrific.
How her heart Hi-jinxed her happiness,
He hoaxed her, heckled her.
How homely.

How hopeless...
Today is brought to you by the letter 'H'.
poetryaccident Mar 2019
I'm staring up at the sky
from a hole six feet down
even while the rest assume
that I'm more than deceased
a harsh word that's still true
ideation has consumed
remnants of a loving life
now only found in living souls

return me to eternal rest
even while my life is hoaxed
sharing space with a world
then waiting for the dirt to fall
the shell resides while I weep
tears transparent on my skin
the drowning have a better chance
to survive beyond the flood

even while I sleep-walk
stagger upright for a time
evoking forms may confuse
when my desires finally fruit
if you chose to turn away
please put the marker on my grave
while I look up at the sky
just one last time as I pass.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190322.
The poem “Staring Up” is a sad view of suicidal ideation.  I had a conversation with a friend regarding the normative view of life.  People assume that other people will, short of a terrible event, will show up from day-to-day.  A person with ideation can never promise this outcome, even as the world expects the previous regularity.
Anais Vionet Jan 2021
Don - they tell me you're leaving
I can't believe it's true,
that we’ll get to live without you.

You’ll go away - govern-mentally,
after all this pain and misery.
When you go - I won’t miss you,
You never said a thing that was true.

Remember when - you hoaxed the virus fight.
What an idiot - you never got it right.
Trump never cared - for me or you,
but we might survive now that he's through.

So let’s discuss - the insurrection -
you provoked when you lost the election.
You got impeached for time number two
who said breaking up was hard to do?

Let’s say goodbye - and let it be,
I hear you’re going to do - Trump TV?
About the time you get that set up,
New York will come and lock you up.
Bye bye Mr. Trump - SEE-ya - wouldn't want ta BE-ya.
Tessa Traum Feb 2014
the fire in my eyes, ceases
except in the light
of the poor reciever at the end of my deciever
plump sanguine lips
glossed over in the saliva of guys
i've fabricated a magical mask spiked with lies
to taste the lips of "lovers"
an ego boost
a hoaxed siren with naively forged wings
covered in *****
of those who are not smart enough to see
when something is fake
like a mad medusa witch
i understand now why some women took the hand of evil
but the angel inside me
breathes she doesn't want to hurt people anymore
and the devil will not walk out the door
so i'll hurt myself instead
with a bullet to my head
a splash of colour
and i'm dead
with real wings
instead
hearts are not a joke
Sequestered May 2016
Hoaxed by cravings
Entangled in ecliptic enchantment;
Spiders within entrapped my butterflies
Into cuddling myself
In cradle of cryptic cobweb.
zozek Jun 2021
Life
has hoaxed us
through a luring incense
of love
and trapped us
in death
forestfaith Mar 2020
in the town of Jerusalem,
my home,
my warzone,
my heart's stone.

i set off from home,
with weathered sandals
and broken eyes

i sought for treasure,
not gold nor wine,
oil and water
a feast for two

and i
walked past a building.
a wind past trees,
light through holes,

and i felt a
strange sensation
in my heart.

it stood like a castle
stripped of it's
false gold.

i stopped to see,
among your disciple, was
a man with a robe
tied

around his waist
and he had
eyes with

a million oceans in them,
and had a fire within
so bright.

washing their feet.
and i wondered,

was it true, Jesus,
that you only acted humble.
or have you

hoaxed entire kingdoms into
believing your God.

divine encounters
wine skins and
calling the dead out of slumber,

and here,
you've ordered a counterfeit vine for
your branches.

the hope of you being real
was seeping into the earth,
like

depleted souls
desperately looking for its
own grave.

but i took a second,
a third look.
5 blinks and a breath,

isn't that you.

i looked again,
and i saw your arms like trees
reaching towards

empty mouths,
i saw a wine stained
robe, and

whiplashed skin,
i didn't know what it meant.

you invited yourself
stripped yourself of heaven
and lowered yourself to

wash the feet of those
who follow you.

oh, the awe.

oh, the sheer weight of

love that swept into, above and through me.

my ears starts to tear up
despite the drought inside me,
and i was filled up,
even though broken cisterns laid
bare
within me
and the world looked

just a bit brighter.
and life finally
felt like life.
and not

empty pots and
eyes that bled pain
nor is it a heart stabbed by its own
mother.

at that moment.
within this...
second.
glimpse.

bleep in eternity.
i knew you were God

and you are real.
heyy heres a try at ekphrastic poetry haha...hopr you guys like it!!
Chloe Zafonte Mar 2019
Narcissistic is not just a toxic relationship with your boyfriend of one year. It can be a parent, a friend, a cousin or someone you love, dear.

  It's when they give up their own responsibilities to depend on you for money, childcare or a ride in the car. If you confront them. Your luck won't go very far.

  You'll belittle you over one little mistake like not washing a dish or leaving a crumb on the table. Restrict you from friends, lovers, family because they're you're parent, partner or whatever it is the label.

   You'll be made to feel unworthy and treated like trash. Take pride in authority as you become their slave. Every peer will be brought up to hate you and you'll be the highlight to bash.  

  You'll be trapped, items will be stolen from you, they'll hurt your children, you will be framed and blamed for what you didn't do. Call the police, tell a friend or relative. But no one will believe it because they've manipulated everyone but you!

  A pretty face or kind demeanor is the who they appear. Your peers will becoming sheep to their lies with words such as " I'm a person of God" and many hoaxed stories to tell. Cross them, your life will become the fifth layer of hell.

  When confronted they fabricate it with lies such as " I do this for you" when you get no benefit from the deed. You can argue with them all day, but refuse to take heed.

  They will monitor your activities, making you feel like a juvenile. "You can't use this no longer" and send you miles away to do so. You'll never be good enough for their home. Wait for an escape for quite a while.

  You can bend over backwards for this said person and nothing will be good enough. Clean their home! Give them money, drive them to work, love them with soul. Their hatred for you never grow old.

  You are nothing but an object. You are free ***, an ATM, a chance to get drunk or high, or a tax return. You'll be nothing but inheritance or sympathy when or if you die.

    When you finally escape this slavery. You will have scars, passing the neighborhood where it happened, hearing their name in a conversation, or coming across something they gave you long ago. If anything, celebrate your bravery!

  You escaped such a harsh time, you stood up for yourself when it cost everything. You are living life without the person you thought you'd die without. You are a warrior without a doubt.
For the men and women who've put up with a parent, friend, partner or authority they made your life hell. If you are no longer in that situation I'm proud of you.
Nishi Jan 2020
I moved on
It was not easy
I wonder,why i had to feel gloomy,
When i did nothing wrong

I was always worthy
I was always honest
I was always loving
I was always caring

I did so much for us
in return i got hoaxed
But whenever i think of me
I wonder why i have to be brood

I was flawless till end
I was astonishing and profound
So when i think of myself
I see,there is no reason to despair
Just realized life is full of blessings and shouldn't be unhappy for the things we couldn't achieve in life..because god never give us something which is not matching to our lives..nature gives us the best things which we deserve at the right time
Bryant Nov 2018
"Brother, Brother, Brother"

Titles passed out like Gestapo badges
Pinning loyalty's bronze shield to their chest
Shaking hands at the elbow
In the same motion bring them to my chest
Embracing them; as I would expect to be clutched after an extended absence
Bone meal nearly being rendered from the pressure between the plates of our breast

Troupe before all; dedication documented

Truth is only given to those close to the heart of the honest
Propaganda; lies served warm and edible from the perimeter of our inter Sanctum
Real to real projectors flickering silent motion pictures of hoaxed heroism
Repeat double features; free all day matinees

I'm sitting outside without a ticket.?
What lies beyond our magnetosphere: spacial radiation, is insurmountable. There will be no human astronauts (interplanetary travelers) till spacecraft are designed to address the radiation issue. Conspiracies rule the world. The evidence that N.A.S.A. made manned lunar missions is becoming exceedingly underwhelming. Watch the frolicsome nature of our brave moon men as they're being pulled to their feet by wires. This is the selfsame govt. that hoaxed the Gulf of Tonkin incident in 1964 that cost the lives of 3 million Vietnamese.

— The End —