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"hostages" poems
Purple, blue, pink, and green, Waves of color fill the room. Crisp cold air, We hide beneath the walls of blankets. Words spoken twice, Spastic moments. Hilarious pictures pinned to boards, giggles shatter late night silence. Tanks with treasure spilling over, Fish swimming back and forth. Cereal, and sometimes milk, Wait to be eaten. Movie nights, and roommate dinners, Granola hostages, and hidden peanut butter. All these things define who we are, Roommates.
0
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 8:30 PM UTC
Roommates
Where are my stone cold optimist Roll call all positive no hostages I feed of the energy in my approximate vicinity Then whole world will know an optimist   Gather your belongings and meet me at the rocket ship Yes truly I will be with the hostages taking roll call all positive Sergent! no hostages are in Thats work for an optimist Blood and sweat my middle name Thats an optimist riding a rocket ship Our heart beats so hard numbing our veins Thats a maddening fit But you know how sweet victory is for an optimist Take is easy simpleton optimist Real optimist be like oh yeah smiling in there hearts All positive not a negated positive deluded optimist The End
0
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 1:05 PM UTC
Hostages and optimist
They were masked with obedience of terrorism on their lips shoot people mercilessly played with their souls in their eyes, no sign of remorse that dreaded night when Mumbai cried rivers of blood death toll increasing with the politicians giving zero ***** ten men killed approx 164 so many injured so many scarred lest we forget them from our hearts martyrs left a legacy they were many other than Salaskar, Kamte and Unnikrishnan They played with blood in Taj, Oberoi, Cama Hospital, Nariman House, CST and Leopold Café their minds were moulded to be like this. the innocent tried to hide in hotel lobbies she watched her husband die and then she died a silent death they shot her unborn child they ignored the infant's cry they killed humanity they came with guns tied their hostages to a pole and had fun. The bomb exploded shattering all their body parts nothing but chunks of human flesh here and there the innocent hid themselves in a room took up the phone and fumbled words they found the innocent and...nothing. the phone line went dead 6 years later, we still can't forget
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Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 7:51 AM UTC
they came with guns
Preparations For Love and Destruction Volatile environments Whose inhabitants Distract inhibitions By enacting emotional exhibitions Fueled by liquid fire .Injection. Fluid spirits Energize the soul Chemically reacting to stress Freeing the hostages Housed inside the hostile hospice Of hearts .Ejection. Nature’s neutrality Doesn’t do much For this current Wave Of Lust and Frustration So, Lo and Behold The solo soul below Who bellows In the belly of beasts Like growls That grows into speech As I transform from Animal to Anomaly Asking for the one thing That will keep me From the answer .Rejection.
0
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
Alcohol
I perceive the shadow of your imprisoned face watching eyes peering through iron rods that cannot contain your visions of freedom the force of your righteous halo frames a presence of light you are a blazing apparition melting the steel cages releasing the world's hostages of justice You Tube Music Video: Gil Scott Heron Third World Revolution 2/17/11 Oakland jbm
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Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 12:55 PM UTC
Nelson Mandela
House plants are hostages we take while we rob the bank of life for all the experience notes we can carry safely away. We are using the funds to build our vivarium homes, microcosms of the world beyond our walls where we first glimpsed the scheme. The machinery of the world, greased by blood and sweat, remains beyond our control while at large, yet under our close supervision we coax submission out of our captives for our own enjoyment: selfish, ambivalently cruel benefactors, dispensers of our plants' waters of life.
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Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 7:13 PM UTC
Masochistic Gardening Techniques for Beginners
*Don't wait till I'm tired to encourage me,I won't move on Don't wait till I'm crippled to tell me about miracles,I won't believe Don't wait till I'm frozen to warm me,I won't appreciate Don't wait until I've stepped the trap to caution me, it won't help Don't wait till I'm shattered to tell me I can be whole, I won't listen Don't wait for me to yawn to give me food, I won't eat it Don't wait until the treasures are depleted to tell me if I dig I'll find its useless to tell me passion will drive me insane after I'm out of my mind Don't wait till I'm famous to praise my pieces, aren't you seeing them now? Don't wait until the Antelope has turned tail to hand me the bow Don't wait for the birds to fly off the tree to hand me the catapult Don't wait for me to step on the live wire to lecture me about vaults Don't wait for me to slip and fall to tell me the place is slippery when wet Don't wait until you've wronged me to preach "forgive and forget" Don't wait until I'm in flames to tell me not to play with fire, bury my ashes Don't try shutting stables after they're gone, instead run after those Horses Don't wait until I'm soaked to give me an umbrella,I won't accept Don't wait for the storms to wreck me to show me how to sail who can listen to instructions while battling waves and hail Don't wait until the snake has stricken to tell me about the venoms for a dying man has no time and ears for caution then on Don't wait for the war to devastate and ruin to preach peace bombs would have deafened or the machetes cut me piece by piece Don't wait for me to plunge to ask me if I've worn a ****** like a kidnapper freeing hostages prior demanding for ransom Don't wait until I've dived into the Sea to ask whether I can swim Don't wait for the end of days to find out whether I believes in Him Don't wait until I'm bleeding to tell me about the beauty of scars or until a clear night to praise the beauty of stars Don't wait until I'm malnourished to bring me aid until I'm dead and gone to praise the words I said Don't wait for my life to flood to dredge the silt that wouldn't be kindness, that would either be mockery or guilt   Don't wait for me to find someone to feelings for me admit Don't wait to offer a helping hand when I'm totally deadbeat why wait to raise a wall when you can fill the crevice you have something to do, to instill, to say, to caution, to give do it now while I smile, while I'm strong, while I live Don't  speak about the adulterations after I've drunk from the chalice*
0
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 3:49 AM UTC
An Adulterated Chalice
*Don't wait till I'm tired to encourage me,I won't move on Don't wait till I'm crippled to tell me about miracles,I won't believe Don't wait till I'm frozen to warm me,I won't appreciate Don't wait until I've stepped the trap to caution me, it won't help Don't wait till I'm shattered to tell me I can be whole, I won't listen Don't wait for me to yawn to give me food, I won't eat it Don't wait until the treasures are depleted to tell me if I dig I'll find its useless to tell me passion will drive me insane after I'm out of my mind Don't wait till I'm famous to praise my pieces, aren't you seeing them now? Don't wait until the Antelope has turned tail to hand me the bow Don't wait for the birds to fly off the tree to hand me the catapult Don't wait for me to step on the live wire to lecture me about vaults Don't wait for me to slip and fall to tell me the place is slippery when wet Don't wait until you've wronged me to preach "forgive and forget" Don't wait until I'm in flames to tell me not to play with fire, bury my ashes Don't try shutting stables after they're gone, instead run after those Horses Don't wait until I'm soaked to give me an umbrella,I won't accept Don't wait for the storms to wreck me to show me how to sail who can listen to instructions while battling waves and hail Don't wait until the snake has stricken to tell me about the venoms for a dying man has no time and ears for caution then on Don't wait for the war to devastate and ruin to preach peace bombs would have deafened or the machetes cut me piece by piece Don't wait for me to plunge to ask me if I've worn a ****** like a kidnapper freeing hostages prior demanding for ransom Don't wait until I've dived into the Sea to ask whether I can swim Don't wait for the end of days to find out whether I believes in Him Don't wait until I'm bleeding to tell me about the beauty of scars or until a clear night to praise the beauty of stars Don't wait until I'm malnourished to bring me aid until I'm dead and gone to praise the words I said Don't wait for my life to flood to dredge the silt that wouldn't be kindness, that would either be mockery or guilt   Don't wait for me to find someone to feelings for me admit Don't wait to offer a helping hand when I'm totally deadbeat why wait to raise a wall when you can fill the crevice you have something to do, to instill, to say, to caution, to give do it now while I smile, while I'm strong, while I live Don't  speak about the adulterations after I've drunk from the chalice*
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39
Unknown Variables The phrase pokes me the eye, demanding obeisance and a poem, My compliance is required, not demanded, but required, for the “unknown variables” conundrum, roots around in my brain cells necessitating a cleansing, Walking down the street is fraught, unknown variables everywhere, popping out like cutouts on a law enforcement shooting course, requiring instant delineation between killing not good guys and only bad guys, no hostages, civilians and no them, poets, Can you test for unknown variables? Of course not. Unknown is a condition, that you cannot drop in to ascertain what condition your multiple conditions are in, Then there is you. You, reader, are an unknown variable, ripe with nearly nuclear reaction potential, you are fissionable material, capable of destruction of my explosive creation, Assessing the poem, do you conclude, keep/discard, remake? now, poem a known variable, asking that it becomes a parcel of your multivariate inputs, a familiar variable, that can charm, destroy, mislead, or even, fulfill a need, make a reckoning, modify your brain; all those dangerous things that are permissible when first you read a newly constant known variable, a perpetually reborning poet? postscript ------------- my name is brandy channing and once upon a time, I was e STEM major
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Dec 1, 2023
Dec 1, 2023 at 2:41 PM UTC
Unknown Variables (Our Chemistry)
Across the street, Live the community of the old. a network of inbreeding left the branches of the family tree entwined like a pipeline of too many years that swim through the convoluted paths forever, sealing in the contents, preserving the past. Long bedraggled tresses brush close to the latticework ground Not a comb has come close To break the wild knots that weave. Nets buoy their authenticity Forever wild, Even though, the world survives on bowls brimmed with metal screws The phantoms of depletion rise, They are weightless, until Pulverized and they tumble, Like hostages They get caught between The wisps of eternity. Backlit sunset, Illuminates the evergreen leaves, The bulky necklace of frozen memories Decorate my stiff neck I am a victim of too many days spent Watching screen protected versions of nature that I forgot how thin skinned leaves really are How the nervous system of enigmatic veins hold DNA of their ancestors Now, bathed in evening light When heat from the stars erode from the sky They are nothing but silhouettes of the past Faceless, like torn out pages of a history book shunned for its omniscient wisdom so that the ashes can be planted burying the past in the ground standing still in the present but reminding me, the future is always as high as the sky.
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Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 10:31 AM UTC
The Banyans
By Arcassin Burnham Come a little closer let me tell you about the time me And the bat met, Even though it's bad , it's things that I don't regret, A secret is a secret and I hope that you keep it, You're gullible so you will, step inside my world a little bit, The horrors that await you , other men could not compare To what I've been through, whatever I say intrigues you, Telling me it's not too late to save myself, and bathe myself under the good mens water, but all the waters poisoned, so what The **** I could tell you throwing a man off the side of a bridge was exhilarating the first time and you'd still be okay with, working here ***** My stories were so good too to you , that you shared yours and I admired that, But I just wanna get out of here and never see you again, Can you live with that? I'm crazy and sadistic, ****** becomes simplistic, Not taking any hostages , I'm so satanistic, Patiently waiting, moving in silence , I'm too distant, So lady you couldn't handle what I'm throwing , can you catch it? Know what I think I'll call you harley , would like that? You listened to every story I told , I lied but you didn't know that, I'm clearly on some **** that'll make your exes wanna step back, I'll probably **** them anyway standing over a their corpse as I Laugh, Besides all that your beauty speaks to me in calms of a hundred Infested oceans , bet you didn't know that I was a poet, There's a thin line between how much I tell you and you misinterpret, I wanna know if your love is worth it, If you let me out of these restraints,I'll take you out, I'll ease the pain , you quit your job, we go rob banks, Treat you like **** , make you go down for all the things that I just did, I do not kid,run from the bat, He captured you and I attack, your too attached, We fight , we argue , I give you a smack, we laugh and then relax , on piles of money, life is funny, Finding someone like you makes you feel in luxury, Making memories, clown princess of crime you mean so much to me, I'm sucker for your lovely body, and even in my deepest circumstance I'm glad to have a harley.
0
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 2:04 AM UTC
Harleen
By Arcassin Burnham Come a little closer let me tell you about the time me And the bat met, Even though it's bad , it's things that I don't regret, A secret is a secret and I hope that you keep it, You're gullible so you will, step inside my world a little bit, The horrors that await you , other men could not compare To what I've been through, whatever I say intrigues you, Telling me it's not too late to save myself, and bathe myself under the good mens water, but all the waters poisoned, so what The **** I could tell you throwing a man off the side of a bridge was exhilarating the first time and you'd still be okay with, working here ***** My stories were so good too to you , that you shared yours and I admired that, But I just wanna get out of here and never see you again, Can you live with that? I'm crazy and sadistic, ****** becomes simplistic, Not taking any hostages , I'm so satanistic, Patiently waiting, moving in silence , I'm too distant, So lady you couldn't handle what I'm throwing , can you catch it? Know what I think I'll call you harley , would like that? You listened to every story I told , I lied but you didn't know that, I'm clearly on some **** that'll make your exes wanna step back, I'll probably **** them anyway standing over a their corpse as I Laugh, Besides all that your beauty speaks to me in calms of a hundred Infested oceans , bet you didn't know that I was a poet, There's a thin line between how much I tell you and you misinterpret, I wanna know if your love is worth it, If you let me out of these restraints,I'll take you out, I'll ease the pain , you quit your job, we go rob banks, Treat you like **** , make you go down for all the things that I just did, I do not kid,run from the bat, He captured you and I attack, your too attached, We fight , we argue , I give you a smack, we laugh and then relax , on piles of money, life is funny, Finding someone like you makes you feel in luxury, Making memories, clown princess of crime you mean so much to me, I'm sucker for your lovely body, and even in my deepest circumstance I'm glad to have a harley.
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42
Syndicate! Venezuela. A land of ghosts. Where cell phones die. Undetectable. As families cry. For their lost loves. Hostages taken. Vanish into night. For minimal ransom. Ransoms paid by families of wealth. Abductees murdered. Rarely returned. Hostage takers. Rarely caught. In this land of class distinction. Tension builds. Some. The lucky ones get taken from the avenues. Taken to the ATM. Where their bank accounts are drained. Given drugs then dumped again. Caracas homicide rates high. Ransoms paid and men still die! In this dark land where crimes flies. Never solved in this land so corrupt. By ladylivvi1 © 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
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Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
Syndicate!
Oh anxiety You sway like the tides of the sea Oh no, have mercy on me You’re here pouncing like a predator to its prey engulfing me slowly like an ice-cold blanket You drag me into the vacuum of space Flying into nothing!everything! At the speed of light I try to comprehend you But you’re more invisible Than the sun at night I try to reason with you But you hold no hostages I’m yours for the time Are you aware of the damages? Well you bring them out to light And all my secrets Rush to my head My mind plays tricks When will this end? I’ll just have to wait you out And when you’re done I have to pick myself up And move on With you as part of my life
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Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 5:27 PM UTC
Oh Anxiety
Mickey was a murderer Malevolent and heartless Likely killed a courier Tempted by his progress Made to feel inferior Delivering the knowledge His emptied eyed exterior Empowering the bosses Always had an an opened ear Could reinact the process Always tried to keep it clear He filtered out the nonsense Always had a deagle near Mickeys thoughts were loss less Always ordered steak and beer As he slithered from the charges Always knew the ends as cure But begginings were the hardest The waters ever murkier And fogging up his goggles Never feared what's lurking there The details were his doctorate He knew who was what And what was where The devils were his hostages Only hostile to his care As he spelled it out with markers Only rich to others fare He was cleaning out their closets As only those who know who dared Know how they finally lost him
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Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 9:09 PM UTC
****
~ *taking sides picking flowers dead and buried on the surface line counting hostages trading stamps extended infinitely at right angles cozy spaces married couples perpendicular legs and mingled stria one over the other It's all conjugated hyperbola a tourist trap with zero interest for a year* ~
0
Dec 6, 2021
Dec 6, 2021 at 8:09 AM UTC
90°
Divided by lock and key bolt and lock hold solid in stolid monotony strong oak lacquer knights are guardians standing vigil in front of dark rooms with darker secrets Glare in glass panes and through the shattered splatter- splintering shards dance over musty old ground-mold dusty without sound because whom is here to hear the whispers flowing out from within But resist the steel boot brutes kicking and screaming to steal in killing hostages on your floor treasure chests and gold chalice -might be within no crusaders disturb what you strive to preserve peace and prosperity deemed unimportant with outstanding austerity don't give up your mystery because then what are you but history adrift
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Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 9:57 PM UTC
doors
The Cop I'm a cop walking the beat, about to retire with hurt feet. followed a man who looked suspicious, from the size of his gun, I knew he was vicious. He went inside a hotel lobby, acting all bossy and snobby. He took hostages, except for me, I shot him dead and set them free. That's the old fashioned American way, plus I'm a cop, who wants his pay. Next night I heard a woman scream, getting ***** as he tried to spill his cream. I also shot him dead, for saving her, she gave me head. All because I'm a good cop, I offered to use the mop. I shoot people who sell drugs, their just useless stupid thugs. I shoot first, question are for later, my gun would **** the largest alligator. Next night followed a woman, inside a store, she was shoplifting, I thought maybe she was poor. Followed he into her fancy car, I shot that stealing rock star. Got in some trouble on that one, a cops job is never done. Next night followed a molester, following a young boy, offering candy and a shinny new toy. Saw him stalking in the park, but I'm a cop, who's not afraid of the dark. Took my shot, while he was watching, it was the boys dad, I saw falling. Retired early without a pension, should have taken that course in safety prevention.
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Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
The Cop
as late as it gets, this would make the fifth or fiftieth orbit in the cycle a closer pattern; you know i can't help but keep trackmarks of these things, the collective foolishnesses we stock up and hold ourselves like hostages at the hand of- of course: it ain't your fault, life like this just aches a little too much, a life of ingratiated and incapitulating desperation always suited me just fine but, sugar, right now, i need something more to keep me from wanting to breathe less, like i've been doing, the past however-long you've taken up residency inside of me. in a small town, i'm too caught up in transit to ever be able to light fires, like you could be.
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Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC
team captains
why are you strolling through?   you are supposed to “run in my family” slashing and burning along the way instead you take hostages handing them recipes for a crock *** slow simmer to transform the hard, well-formed and fresh into a soft mush ready to be scooped into the bowls of the beggars or the bold who slop you down crap you out and flush you to where you swim rather than stroll or run in anybody’s family but still manage to foul the earth with your wretched stench
0
Apr 12, 2012
Apr 12, 2012 at 11:36 PM UTC
I N S A N I T Y
The things that seemed important, Ribboned gifts and designer pants, My credit history of extravagance, And fake passports as a freelance, With several courtesy cards, Shopping guns in Baghdad. Then I gained influence, Enslaved christian clerics in Africa, Muslim brotherhood was dense, Slaughter people then head to Mecca, The routine of spilling blood, Then go repent to God. Family never came first, Devotion was in the heart, Heart of terrorism and hostile radio calls, Satellite technology was radical, Launching missiles to the US skyscrapers, Hijack jetliners and victims calling helpers. Human sacrifice was the norm, 'Bismillah Allah hu akbar' then slice the intestines, Or hold hostages and bid ransom, This is the life risked on landmines, Embedded by Soviet Union, 'Conspiracy' the presidents say in unison.
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Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 7:05 AM UTC
Life as a Terrorist
I need help I fear for my health I'm starting to get that itch When I'm away from you for to long my eyes twitch I get sick I get the shakes Bad headaches My sheets often drench from the cold sweats I experience shortness of breath I miss the cold steel against my skin The exhilaration of it penetrating the layers that protect me from you They resist,eventually giving in It lets you in Your fluid gushing through my veins The adrenaline I get My heart races I get lost in the feeling Nothing else matters I'd fight matter to have more of you Your love I mean it It warms my heart Speeds up my thoughts But slows down my reaction The sensation bombards my chest I try to slow my breathing But my heart wants out of its prison It's bones usually thicken But It's cage weakened By the drug that has me hooked Name your price If I don't have enough Expect me on tv Negotiating these hostages for the biggest heist you've ever seen I think I'm going crazy I think I have a serious problem I admit I'm an addict I wish someone would admit me I need rehab
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Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 2:19 PM UTC
Rehab
A man has kidnapped two people and is demanding 50 million for their safe return. But people have discovered who the two hostages are and they are not concerned. Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump are the two people who have been kidnapped. People won't give a plug nickel for the safe return of those two pieces of crap. Clinton and Trump won't be coming home any time soon, they are trapped. If somebody does pay the ransom, he or she will certainly deserve to be slapped.
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Mar 18, 2019
Mar 18, 2019 at 12:42 PM UTC
Nobody Will Pay The Kidnapper
Hear the rain fall, here the rains drop, where there was once grass and clay soil dry, yet now the pools of rainwater protest, with all the little droplet hostages, the collective have not the resources to, from here escape! To true though grounded too, due to weather, any possible help the unfriendly breeze, has wind-instrumented away. After you read this, I drought there will be a dry eye in the house, and you'll all pool your resources, to make me Maui's most wanted poet for awhile.
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Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 12:54 AM UTC
My Climate Change Plan
I think it was 5th grade...I told a teacher that if you give me more time to think of an answer, on a test, I will give the right answer. Giving time limits is the way to make a dumber people. Patience and understanding always leads to the best outcomes. Right? It shows in everything. Hostage situation? Go in and get the hostages never works. Not negotiating never works. Period. Never. So, going against truth is the downfall of all things
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Mar 16, 2022
Mar 16, 2022 at 4:32 PM UTC
Loose Leaf Lies
Take no hostages, plunder not a thing Leave no wreckages But take me, the king Hold me to ransom by the spellbound ring Am only handsome When you, my joy, bring
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Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 6:59 AM UTC
When You Capture My Heart