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"humankind" poems
you were shrieking about your problems your teeth were all about this material world everything was all about you because that's how you wanted it you loved yourself and only yourself you were spitting money of all currencies and kind you adore them like how i adore humankind you boast loudly about the material things you own you loved your things so much, you turned into one and you think people would actually love you boisterous laughs were hidden behind the old brick wall the you i used to know were a pigment of the past you are now pitch-black, self centered and selfish the pit can simply be covered with mud or a beautiful plant but you dig deeper and fall and ask for succor because that's what you crave for after all
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Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 4:52 AM UTC
of money and money and more money
Babylon has fallen! Aye; but Babylon endures Wherever human wisdom shines or human folly lures; Where lovers lingering walk beside, and happy children play, Is Babylon! Babylon! for ever and for aye. The plan is rudely fashioned, the dream is unfulfilled, Yet all is in the archetype if but a builder willed; And Babylon is calling us, the microcosm of men, To range her walls in harmony and lift her spires again; The sternest walls, the proudest spires, that ever sun shone on, Halting a space his burning race to gaze on Babylon. Babylon has fallen! Aye; but Babylon shall stand: The mantle of her majesty is over sea and land. Hers is the name of challenge flung, a watchword in the fight To grapple grim eternities and gain the old delight; And in the word the dream is hid, and in the dream the deed, And in the deed the mastery for those who dare to lead. Surely her day shall come again, surely her breed be born To urge the hope of humankind and scale the peaks of morn -- To fight as they who fought till death their ****** field upon, And kept the gate against the Fate frowning on Babylon.
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11k
Babylon
the other day I occupied a chair at a sidewalk café watching the vanity fair of the quotidian float by in quickly changing apparitions an endless flow of different ages, nations, fashions, skin colors, miens, ****** expressions, postures & gaits kept passing through  my field of vision it made me wonder why some people get so furious when they  just hear about     not even meet     the ‘others’ different from themselves that they start dropping  bombs and shooting rockets I think they rather should be curious and eager to discover how the immense variety of humankind can help expand a locally grown mind and recognize that we are all of the same kind
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Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 5:20 PM UTC
humankind
(Quote by Spike Milligan) One very wise man sat and said That, long before this world is dead This planet’s problems won’t be solved By reasoning which, though now evolved, has got us, where we now do sit, Afloat neck deep in mankind’s **** There’s SARs, Ebola, AIDs, Bird flu And in the woodwork, West Nile too, Each replicating viral spat To mutate, (at the drop of a hat), To complicate enviro’s stew Of global degredation’s brew. Urban spread and over stocking **** deforestation’s shocking, Depletion of aquatic life Intrinsically creating strife, Industrial pollution’s goo Ozone depletion... ALL FOR YOU! *Environmental degradation Means the world’s a weaker place, Susceptible to malady Wide spread across the human race. Those animals in corn fed stalls Who never get to see the sun Or graze green grass where honey bees Are vanquished by varroha’s fun. Too late to save the Hector’s dolphin Conservation’s lost it’s tools, Rastafarian hootchie smokers, Save the whales to **** the fools. Governments sell the carbon credits Everybody smells a rat Restorations for the birds And social conscience creamed the cat. ****** greenies own the airwaves No one gives a flying **** That good artesian water’s poisoned By good farmer’s leached out muck. CO2 in global warming Sings it’s song of fast decline Glacial retreat a-roaring Bass relief in blood ***** I guess the little children’s future Most depends on lady luck, Humankind in mass denial Most don’t give a flying **** Marshalg In retreat to Taranaki’s green haven in the gales of the equinox. 21 September 2011
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Sep 21, 2011
Sep 21, 2011 at 2:09 AM UTC
We Just Lost the Human Race
(Quote by Spike Milligan) One very wise man sat and said That, long before this world is dead This planet’s problems won’t be solved By reasoning which, though now evolved, has got us, where we now do sit, Afloat neck deep in mankind’s **** There’s SARs, Ebola, AIDs, Bird flu And in the woodwork, West Nile too, Each replicating viral spat To mutate, (at the drop of a hat), To complicate enviro’s stew Of global degredation’s brew. Urban spread and over stocking **** deforestation’s shocking, Depletion of aquatic life Intrinsically creating strife, Industrial pollution’s goo Ozone depletion... ALL FOR YOU! *Environmental degradation Means the world’s a weaker place, Susceptible to malady Wide spread across the human race. Those animals in corn fed stalls Who never get to see the sun Or graze green grass where honey bees Are vanquished by varroha’s fun. Too late to save the Hector’s dolphin Conservation’s lost it’s tools, Rastafarian hootchie smokers, Save the whales to **** the fools. Governments sell the carbon credits Everybody smells a rat Restorations for the birds And social conscience creamed the cat. ****** greenies own the airwaves No one gives a flying **** That good artesian water’s poisoned By good farmer’s leached out muck. CO2 in global warming Sings it’s song of fast decline Glacial retreat a-roaring Bass relief in blood ***** I guess the little children’s future Most depends on lady luck, Humankind in mass denial Most don’t give a flying **** Marshalg In retreat to Taranaki’s green haven in the gales of the equinox. 21 September 2011
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(Quote by Spike Milligan) One very wise man sat and said That, long before this world is dead This planet’s problems won’t be solved By reasoning which, though now evolved, has got us, where we now do sit, Afloat neck deep in mankind’s **** There’s SARs, Ebola, AIDs, Bird flu And in the woodwork, West Nile too, Each replicating viral spat To mutate, (at the drop of a hat), To complicate enviro’s stew Of global degredation’s brew. Urban spread and over stocking **** deforestation’s shocking, Depletion of aquatic life Intrinsically creating strife, Industrial pollution’s goo Ozone depletion... ALL FOR YOU! Environmental degradation Means the world’s a weaker place, Susceptible to malady Wide spread across the human race. Those animals in corn fed stalls Who never get to see the sun Or graze green grass where honey bees Are vanquished by varroha’s fun. Too late to save the Hector’s dolphin Conservation’s lost it’s tools, Rastafarian hootchie smokers, Save the whales to **** the fools. Governments sell the carbon credits Everybody smells a rat Restorations for the birds And social conscience creamed the cat. ****** greenies own the airwaves No one gives a flying **** That good artesian water’s poisoned By good farmer’s leached out muck. CO2 in global warming Sings it’s song of fast decline Glacial retreat a-roaring Bass relief in blood ***** I guess the little children’s future Most depends on lady luck, Humankind in mass denial Most don’t give a flying **** Marshalg In retreat to Taranaki’s green haven in the gales of the equinox. 21 September 2011
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Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 3:14 AM UTC
We Just Lost the Human Race!
(Quote by Spike Milligan) One very wise man sat and said That, long before this world is dead This planet’s problems won’t be solved By reasoning which, though now evolved, has got us, where we now do sit, Afloat neck deep in mankind’s **** There’s SARs, Ebola, AIDs, Bird flu And in the woodwork, West Nile too, Each replicating viral spat To mutate, (at the drop of a hat), To complicate enviro’s stew Of global degredation’s brew. Urban spread and over stocking **** deforestation’s shocking, Depletion of aquatic life Intrinsically creating strife, Industrial pollution’s goo Ozone depletion... ALL FOR YOU! Environmental degradation Means the world’s a weaker place, Susceptible to malady Wide spread across the human race. Those animals in corn fed stalls Who never get to see the sun Or graze green grass where honey bees Are vanquished by varroha’s fun. Too late to save the Hector’s dolphin Conservation’s lost it’s tools, Rastafarian hootchie smokers, Save the whales to **** the fools. Governments sell the carbon credits Everybody smells a rat Restorations for the birds And social conscience creamed the cat. ****** greenies own the airwaves No one gives a flying **** That good artesian water’s poisoned By good farmer’s leached out muck. CO2 in global warming Sings it’s song of fast decline Glacial retreat a-roaring Bass relief in blood ***** I guess the little children’s future Most depends on lady luck, Humankind in mass denial Most don’t give a flying **** Marshalg In retreat to Taranaki’s green haven in the gales of the equinox. 21 September 2011
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This rainy night, Heavens will fall. Divine light, extinguished under the Thy raven wing. This rainy night Gabriel's trumpet went silent. People pray for their salvation. God doesn't hear dead man but He sure answer them. This rainy night, wind drift through deserted land, resonating sound of the emptiness and death. Blood is washed from the thorn crown, existence is meaningless without punishment by Lord's hands. This rainy night, shadows will crawl from the deep underground. Humankind is devoured by eternal fire. People produce heat only when you burn them. This rainy night,nothing matters. His black wings will fly again over the sky. leaving nothing more than darkness and silence.
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Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 2:41 PM UTC
Dream of the Unholy
What better human quality than generosity? They say sharing is caring, who could disagree? Sharing bread, sharing bed, sharing deep intimacy Sharing souls, sharing hearts, sharing vulnerability But a world without sharing is a world that stopped caring Without care, love will fade and cause lack of compassion Division of humankind, is what causes war of nations Borders are border line, they impede freedom of roaming Don’t you think it’s absurd how people will decide How much they’ll share with you, How much they’ll care for you Depending on where you’re born or you reside Whilst the truth is that we share - the same entire planet Borders caused our division - and used us all as puppets To get richer and be better than those outside our borders Made us greedy, made us needy to increase our own possessions Some might think sharing means - losing parts of what is yours But where true love persists - all that is mine is also yours Sharing doesn’t halve happiness; you’ll see it multiplies it Possession is what grows greed and the bad weeds that surround it
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Dec 15, 2021
Dec 15, 2021 at 5:26 PM UTC
Sharing is Caring
work is working maturity work is working manhood manhood work manhood to a maturity manhood is a working maturity maturity work maturity maturity work manhood manhood work manhood mankind work mankind mankind work humankind moral work moral moral work moral to mankind moral is mankind working moral moral is mankind working maturity moral is mankind working manhood honor is a working honor honor is a working maturity honor is a working moral honor is a working manhood mankind honor mankind to a working honor mankind is humankind working honor mankind is a working honor of mankind
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Dec 16, 2020
Dec 16, 2020 at 1:58 PM UTC
work is working maturity
I believe in one church. I believe in an inter-racial and unbiased church of many nations. I believe in one church of many traditions. I believe in one church not hemmed in by history or by man-made borders. I believe in a God for whom his pallet of skin colours reflects his love of diversity. I believe in God-given racial difference. I believe in one creator God who made all humankind equal. I believe in Christ’s one church that reflects our maker's love of difference. I do not believe in uniformity. I believe in the Christ’s common language of love for one another, for neighbours and for enemies that transcends local dialects. I believe in one sundry collection of priests who are called by Christ to serve one God together, saved by His one sacrifice once and for all time. I believe in the promise of one resurrected church drawn from all nations, from every generation to meet her bridegroom, Jesus Christ. I believe in one eternal wedding feast at a table prepared by God which features everything from the finest vegetable samosas to the richest steam puddings. I believe in one extravagant Father who has built one massive mansion with many rooms so all his people can come and dwell together. I believe in God's Kingdom come.
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Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 8:23 AM UTC
Manifesto
The gold that flows, through our elaborate veins, The crop that is known, by many names, The gift that alleviates, our daytime pains, The commodity that plays, one too many games. Our world is nothing, but a bottomless mine, Simply waiting, for the wrath and plunder of humankind, Oh labourers please, wait your spot in line, For it was not you that made, this incredible find. You’re a fool to think, the system needs a redesign, For your fate and this chain, are forever intertwined. Stay in your corner, as they wine and dine, For it is you not them, contained by this chain’s bind. Posing as a gift, that elevates their daily grind, The brown gold is no longer, part of your bloodline, It was their chains after all, that made this incredible find, For it now flows away, from the Plateau’s skyline. You continue to hope, for these chains to be redefined, But to imagine you even exist to them, is asinine, Yet you believe a consumer movement, would be so inclined, For you forget that chains were made, to always confine.
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Jul 27, 2019
Jul 27, 2019 at 3:55 AM UTC
The Chains of Brown Gold
As this world runs in cruelty and in greed, Our eyes see the world perfect-blindly. Those who have power stay unfair and unjust, indeed - The stated laws were implemented tightly. Power over humanity exists in today’s world. We as powerless have no right to scrutinize, but to concur. Their pledges remain twirled - The hurdle stays in abundance with no cure. It is in us where the grievous suffering is in store; And we have none to succor them all. The hunger and incurable malady strike humankind in any form. It led to increased mortality, decreased economy, but who to call? Whoever has power, our safety cannot be guaranteed – They are the ones that makes our life at risk. They stand as an impediment for our nation not to succeed. Their fall is soon our victory – this is not in the pace-brisk. It’s been a year, still no sign of good deed. Half of the world is asleep – Some shock for awakening their soul is what they need. We have lost enough; at least we have ourselves to keep. The string of our patience reached its limitation. Rich people hoard too much and now most of us left deprived. Who’ll lift marginalized Filipinos in our nation? – Who'll give us fair allocation that is incumbent for us to survive? Tedious journey might it seem. Our souls’ little voices are still unheard. What life this could be without our soaring dream? – We shall move our mountains even gratification is deferred. Now, the time is ours to stand as one with clenched hands, It’s time for us to deplore and abhor their thoughts. It’s time to listen in our souls' little voices to be heard at once. And it’s time for us to break the darkness by our flaming oath. - Aubergine Cher Bautista
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Mar 25, 2021
Mar 25, 2021 at 11:59 PM UTC
Filipinos Little Voices United As One
As this world runs in cruelty and in greed, Our eyes see the world perfect-blindly. Those who have power stay unfair and unjust, indeed - The stated laws were implemented tightly. Power over humanity exists in today’s world. We as powerless have no right to scrutinize, but to concur. Their pledges remain twirled - The hurdle stays in abundance with no cure. It is in us where the grievous suffering is in store; And we have none to succor them all. The hunger and incurable malady strike humankind in any form. It led to increased mortality, decreased economy, but who to call? Whoever has power, our safety cannot be guaranteed – They are the ones that makes our life at risk. They stand as an impediment for our nation not to succeed. Their fall is soon our victory – this is not in the pace-brisk. It’s been a year, still no sign of good deed. Half of the world is asleep – Some shock for awakening their soul is what they need. We have lost enough; at least we have ourselves to keep. The string of our patience reached its limitation. Rich people hoard too much and now most of us left deprived. Who’ll lift marginalized Filipinos in our nation? – Who'll give us fair allocation that is incumbent for us to survive? Tedious journey might it seem. Our souls’ little voices are still unheard. What life this could be without our soaring dream? – We shall move our mountains even gratification is deferred. Now, the time is ours to stand as one with clenched hands, It’s time for us to deplore and abhor their thoughts. It’s time to listen in our souls' little voices to be heard at once. And it’s time for us to break the darkness by our flaming oath. - Aubergine Cher Bautista
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They called me Pluto from afar, and I, Nameless and void, embraced the title With the force of a thousand burning suns, Each one like the star I loved ever so dearly, An immense sphere of fire which had me Helplessly, hopelessly bound by its gravity, Caught in its orbit from the beginning of time. They called me Pluto still from further still, Speaking my name as the orbit of myself And their water world drove us apart, And I gladly, worshipfully rejoiced – I had a name; I was no longer void. I was distant still, but they called me Pluto, And I wore my name like regalia, A crown upon my lifeless skin. They called me Pluto still as they Waded further from the cosmic shore That was their home, sending probes That touched the regolith of Mars – There was life, and light, spreading out from Planet Earth, So I waited, hoping they’d come for me Sooner rather than later, tomorrow and not two centuries from now. They called me Pluto even as they stripped me of my name – I was ‘planet’ no longer, And I grew colder and bitterer as I spun, Because I knew things they did not, Things about the rise and fall of civilizations. They did not see what I had seen, They had not been watching Since the dawn-time. They called me Pluto, And they cried my name As I watched them burn, The light of the flickering candle in the dark That had once been humankind Flaring, more luminous than the sun for one bright, shining moment, Then fading. They called me Pluto in the aftermath, As if I were the God of the underworld, Guarding their lost souls from my far-off perch, Shepherding that which could not be led, But I was not their God, even if I’d once fathomed them as mine. So here I wait, patient, eternal, void and barren, For them to leave me lonely when they no longer Dare to speak my name from the realm I am the supposed guardian of; They called me Pluto.
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Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 7:46 AM UTC
They Called Me Pluto
They called me Pluto from afar, and I, Nameless and void, embraced the title With the force of a thousand burning suns, Each one like the star I loved ever so dearly, An immense sphere of fire which had me Helplessly, hopelessly bound by its gravity, Caught in its orbit from the beginning of time. They called me Pluto still from further still, Speaking my name as the orbit of myself And their water world drove us apart, And I gladly, worshipfully rejoiced – I had a name; I was no longer void. I was distant still, but they called me Pluto, And I wore my name like regalia, A crown upon my lifeless skin. They called me Pluto still as they Waded further from the cosmic shore That was their home, sending probes That touched the regolith of Mars – There was life, and light, spreading out from Planet Earth, So I waited, hoping they’d come for me Sooner rather than later, tomorrow and not two centuries from now. They called me Pluto even as they stripped me of my name – I was ‘planet’ no longer, And I grew colder and bitterer as I spun, Because I knew things they did not, Things about the rise and fall of civilizations. They did not see what I had seen, They had not been watching Since the dawn-time. They called me Pluto, And they cried my name As I watched them burn, The light of the flickering candle in the dark That had once been humankind Flaring, more luminous than the sun for one bright, shining moment, Then fading. They called me Pluto in the aftermath, As if I were the God of the underworld, Guarding their lost souls from my far-off perch, Shepherding that which could not be led, But I was not their God, even if I’d once fathomed them as mine. So here I wait, patient, eternal, void and barren, For them to leave me lonely when they no longer Dare to speak my name from the realm I am the supposed guardian of; They called me Pluto.
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Calories. When I was 6 years old, my mother told me I would consume too many calories. I would consume them by the hundreds, by the thousands. I was Godzilla and they were the people I dominated. When my parents left one another I had to fill myself with some other source of affection. And the insulin rushes were tremendous. When I was 11, I had to see the doctor to be in fear of getting Diabetes, and being grossly overweight. At at age of 15, I was over 280 pounds of walking disappointments. I had always believed my stomach carried my happiness and the fat under my chin kept my head high. But after being rejected for so long, I snapped. I always had an attachment to food, a sort of inseperable bond. But I remember looking at myself in the mirror one night, completely disgusted, tears welling in my eyes, and I puked from the anger I felt inside of me. So don't tell me the calories I consume today don't burn more than the bleach Amanda Todd drank, or that the more hollow my stomach becomes, I am not able to better hide my sorrows. Do not dare tell me eat something, because I've craved biting the bullet for the past 8 ******* years, and carbohydrates has caused more sadness in my heart than anything else. Do not tell me other teenagers do not cut open their arms, to let calories out, because they are scared to Christ that someone may judge them, if they eat an apple. Because the first woman that ate an apple, ****** humankind. And by having a sip of your Iced Tea, or a french fry, might just dissolve the earth from beneath us. Why we hide from nutrition labels, and run from anything with a number greater than ZERO on it. I was taught that happiness comes from a nutrition label, and how many servings one consumes, not the smile on ones face, or the good in one's heart. Calories have ruined my life, and I will never forgive any nutrition label for that.
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May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 2:57 AM UTC
Calories
Calories. When I was 6 years old, my mother told me I would consume too many calories. I would consume them by the hundreds, by the thousands. I was Godzilla and they were the people I dominated. When my parents left one another I had to fill myself with some other source of affection. And the insulin rushes were tremendous. When I was 11, I had to see the doctor to be in fear of getting Diabetes, and being grossly overweight. At at age of 15, I was over 280 pounds of walking disappointments. I had always believed my stomach carried my happiness and the fat under my chin kept my head high. But after being rejected for so long, I snapped. I always had an attachment to food, a sort of inseperable bond. But I remember looking at myself in the mirror one night, completely disgusted, tears welling in my eyes, and I puked from the anger I felt inside of me. So don't tell me the calories I consume today don't burn more than the bleach Amanda Todd drank, or that the more hollow my stomach becomes, I am not able to better hide my sorrows. Do not dare tell me eat something, because I've craved biting the bullet for the past 8 ******* years, and carbohydrates has caused more sadness in my heart than anything else. Do not tell me other teenagers do not cut open their arms, to let calories out, because they are scared to Christ that someone may judge them, if they eat an apple. Because the first woman that ate an apple, ****** humankind. And by having a sip of your Iced Tea, or a french fry, might just dissolve the earth from beneath us. Why we hide from nutrition labels, and run from anything with a number greater than ZERO on it. I was taught that happiness comes from a nutrition label, and how many servings one consumes, not the smile on ones face, or the good in one's heart. Calories have ruined my life, and I will never forgive any nutrition label for that.
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humankind is loyal to mankind humankind is humankind loyalty loyal is loyalty to mankind loyalty is a honor of loyalty loyalty is a honor of mankind to honor loyalty is to honor mankind respect is in honor of mankind respect is in honor of respect mankind respect is humankind respect mankind respect is humankind honor mankind respect is humankind loyalty glory is glory of honor glory is glory of humankind humankind is glory of humankind mankind glory is humankind glory mankind is mankind glory defeat is defeat of humankind defeat is defeat of glory glory defeat glory glory honor the defeat of glory honor, honor the defeat of honor
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Nov 12, 2021
Nov 12, 2021 at 1:47 PM UTC
humankind loyalty
By Samaneh Nazerian On a cold winter evening, There was a dove with no wing, Looking at sky, Asking Him why? It was cloudy, Very gloomy, And across the windows, She saw a flock of crows, They were humankind, With nothing in mind, In the fading light, They were in delight! Oppressing on a dare, They were taking no care, With time passing, The kids' laughing, The poor's crying, The Lord's yelling, And His warning, The sun's shining, Where it's rising, And is setting, No care with the moon, Singing out of tune! They were working, And were playing, Eating, laughing, And were crying! They were doing, All every thing, Save for thinking, On their being! No one caring for the poor, the old, All what's seen was the gold and cold! All were there so wise, But getting shut-eye, And closing their eyes, To the how and why! No one seeking, The peaks and the ups, And not looking, For the mountaintops! Finding the world of humanity, In dark, free of any charity, The dove, With love, Felt unhappy, And like jelly! She asked the Lord with courtesy, For His Blessing, Help and Mercy! She called on Him, To forgive them, Give them a chance, To ruin their fence, To save their face, Well, in any case!
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Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 6:59 AM UTC
Human Jungle!
The Brandon who was sure of a god is deceased, But his memory is visible in my idealistic wish for one. Who would not want a loving, personal god Forgiving their wrongs and guiding them Towards ever-lasting happiness? Answer me.. No matter what you want, In regard to matters of forgiveness and happiness, You are on your own, At least that's what I think. I have to forgive myself, Even if everyone else will refuse to do so. Ugly and beautiful both describe me equally, And these qualities apply to every Other human being as well, From the poor to the wealthy, The atheist to the religious, The prisoner to the police officer, The terrorist to the president, and so on. Failure to acknowledge this Underscores moral supremacy, And the over-simplification of humankind. No war between Good and Evil is being waged, And as far as happiness goes, No man or woman can give it to you, They can only supplement it. It is not a plateau To be permanently established, It waxes and wanes like The phases of the moon, Tending to glow whenever you smile. (c) 2013 Brandon Antonio Smith 9/20/13
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Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 1:53 PM UTC
Humanity's Both Beautiful and Ugly
Fingers tapping, one, two, three, A slow rhythm drums in my chest. The words on my screen blur and fade before me. The world slows as we are put to the test. The streets, barren and eerily silent, Darkened windows, chairs on tables. Places once filled with noise now absent. Are we now living in one of God's fables? Perhaps, then, we must stop and listen, Listen to the lessons He is teaching us all. These drastic measures, so brazen, Yet we are close to the edge, were we to fall? See kindness and beauty, See all that is good, As Mother Nature breathes freely, Tired from all She withstood. Laughter and bored games, Brought together by distance, Whilst the air, the water, She reclaims, No more waiting, no more patience. Yes, waters clear as emissions drop; A truly beautiful consequence. But we must not forget - take the time to stop, Extend our minds to at whose expense. Unemployment creeps ever higher, Many lives are lost. For those a dark and terrible chapter, Enduring such a saddening cost. The good that lies within, The beauty of humankind, Rainbows, clapping, togetherness underpin, Our world, our people, our priorities realigned. So listen we must, To our animals, our rivers, our Earth. Look to your nearest and dearest, Use this time to recognise their full worth.
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Nov 2, 2021
Nov 2, 2021 at 6:12 PM UTC
Lockdown Lessons
The spider Queen, aloofly vain! She rules a silent ruthless reign, with black-bead eyes like pearls of rain that damp the depths of her demesne. . . . A spider spins, with nimble feet, a sticky web of grim deceit that drapes the corners, dark, discreet, in catacombs of her retreat. Her jointed legs (in number, eight) traverse the threads with stilted gait, but often more she'll lie in wait within the hub of her estate. Shy spiders live their lives alone ensconced within a silky throne; unless a transient guest comes flown, their lives bide empty, monotone. . . Well, now and then, a sullen breeze may twitch the toils, begin to tease – yet nothing's caught and nothing pleas, so patience's bid at times like these. But then again, when stars ignite, may maunder by a gnat, by night, be taught a dance, a writhing rite, within a lace of death, wrapped tight. Sometimes a spider's in the mood and waits awhile, whilst being wooed – and then, to later feed her brood, the widow slays her mate for food. In time a spider dies, 'tis true, bequeathing but a residue entwined, devoid of retinue, in fibers decked in silver dew. . . . One asks "What purpose serves the GNAT – to feed and make the spider fat? Well, 'tis perchance just naught but that within a mindless habitat. . . "Yet, what's the aim?” you may inquire, “at the heart of MAN's desire. To which goals should WE aspire reaching high and reaching higher?" We've, through the ages, left the mire, trundling wheels and taming fire, doing deeds that must inspire, nursing needy, calming crier, … Such things as these, most may admire: - placid dove and war defier (some are bolder, some are shyer) - patience (mess-up mollifier); - humankind (Life's justifier) - charity (charmed self-denier) - tolerance (proud pacifier ) - love of Life (folk unifier). What more could we, as flesh, require? Needless kneeling neath the spire? Childish chanting in the choir? Preaching hell's impending pyre? No, Death's the only rectifier, comes the instant we expire, nothing after, sentience prior. So, treasure Life and don't deny Her.
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
The Gnat
The spider Queen, aloofly vain! She rules a silent ruthless reign, with black-bead eyes like pearls of rain that damp the depths of her demesne. . . . A spider spins, with nimble feet, a sticky web of grim deceit that drapes the corners, dark, discreet, in catacombs of her retreat. Her jointed legs (in number, eight) traverse the threads with stilted gait, but often more she'll lie in wait within the hub of her estate. Shy spiders live their lives alone ensconced within a silky throne; unless a transient guest comes flown, their lives bide empty, monotone. . . Well, now and then, a sullen breeze may twitch the toils, begin to tease – yet nothing's caught and nothing pleas, so patience's bid at times like these. But then again, when stars ignite, may maunder by a gnat, by night, be taught a dance, a writhing rite, within a lace of death, wrapped tight. Sometimes a spider's in the mood and waits awhile, whilst being wooed – and then, to later feed her brood, the widow slays her mate for food. In time a spider dies, 'tis true, bequeathing but a residue entwined, devoid of retinue, in fibers decked in silver dew. . . . One asks "What purpose serves the GNAT – to feed and make the spider fat? Well, 'tis perchance just naught but that within a mindless habitat. . . "Yet, what's the aim?” you may inquire, “at the heart of MAN's desire. To which goals should WE aspire reaching high and reaching higher?" We've, through the ages, left the mire, trundling wheels and taming fire, doing deeds that must inspire, nursing needy, calming crier, … Such things as these, most may admire: - placid dove and war defier (some are bolder, some are shyer) - patience (mess-up mollifier); - humankind (Life's justifier) - charity (charmed self-denier) - tolerance (proud pacifier ) - love of Life (folk unifier). What more could we, as flesh, require? Needless kneeling neath the spire? Childish chanting in the choir? Preaching hell's impending pyre? No, Death's the only rectifier, comes the instant we expire, nothing after, sentience prior. So, treasure Life and don't deny Her.
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Gathered pieces of a great puzzle ; refreshed perspective like ocean riptides foment at the confluence collecting dark rivers’ flow Repurposing back-eddies , rejuvenation of stagnant brackish waters , inherent buried soul-shine purging from the ancient core of earth mother Light arising from the hidden depths of inner stillness as if a refilling wellspring burst forth , reawakening muted sighs unspoken Forming poetic constellations of black and bright to lighten afar the nebulous darkness , a sea of swirling ink transformed into poetry A sage opus renewed by the muse of a migrating flock , striving to discover new sacred grounds ; yet there is an undeniable song sung in the howling winds of change An incitement from a higher dialect that empowers a restoration of spirit Oeuvre uplifted by rogue waves of summoning winds , arousing that which time erases A manifest renaissance among the rousing nuances of poetic continuum , judicious to rediscover the enthralling vastitude of every breaking wave in a boundless sea of poesy Where prevailing currents stir oceans of verse eternal ; provoking a verve revival , the magnitude of an unbroken circle , ocean swells merging singularity with the omnipresent colour of uncharted depths As if thoughts are assuaged by a union of intimately touching souls with words of intangible spheres , sparking subtle shades of meaning spanning poetic immortality Transcending barriers of unexplored lexicon to manifest the immensity, enkindling rhapsody of hearts and minds    Deeply rooted soul replenishment harvested from the tree of humankind , willingly sharing without regret nor intention , with deference to the soul of one-blood, one-love enabling an enlightening metamorphosis of the human journey ... © harlon rivers ... all rights reserved
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Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 11:48 AM UTC
Harvesting Poetry from the Tree of Humankind
Gathered pieces of a great puzzle ; refreshed perspective like ocean riptides foment at the confluence collecting dark rivers’ flow Repurposing back-eddies , rejuvenation of stagnant brackish waters , inherent buried soul-shine purging from the ancient core of earth mother Light arising from the hidden depths of inner stillness as if a refilling wellspring burst forth , reawakening muted sighs unspoken Forming poetic constellations of black and bright to lighten afar the nebulous darkness , a sea of swirling ink transformed into poetry A sage opus renewed by the muse of a migrating flock , striving to discover new sacred grounds ; yet there is an undeniable song sung in the howling winds of change An incitement from a higher dialect that empowers a restoration of spirit Oeuvre uplifted by rogue waves of summoning winds , arousing that which time erases A manifest renaissance among the rousing nuances of poetic continuum , judicious to rediscover the enthralling vastitude of every breaking wave in a boundless sea of poesy Where prevailing currents stir oceans of verse eternal ; provoking a verve revival , the magnitude of an unbroken circle , ocean swells merging singularity with the omnipresent colour of uncharted depths As if thoughts are assuaged by a union of intimately touching souls with words of intangible spheres , sparking subtle shades of meaning spanning poetic immortality Transcending barriers of unexplored lexicon to manifest the immensity, enkindling rhapsody of hearts and minds    Deeply rooted soul replenishment harvested from the tree of humankind , willingly sharing without regret nor intention , with deference to the soul of one-blood, one-love enabling an enlightening metamorphosis of the human journey ... © harlon rivers ... all rights reserved
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52
They said that since I play certain games, I'm worth a broken shoe. They judge people for being fans! Think about that. Would you? My heart's pounding like a drum, But my blood is running cold. I came here with a question; The answer I must be told. The air is filled with music As I slash to the beat. Getting past just one zone Has got to be a feat! Searching for my long-lost Dad I need to find the answer... First, I must groove through the Crypt Of the NecroDancer! I play my games; all I want Is to have some fun. There are seven deadly sins, And my passion isn't one. My annoying childhood friend Sees me walking down the street. She overslept again! Now we finally meet. She told me I should join A club after school. I don't really want to, But if it makes her happy, it's cool. Turns out, it's full of adorable girls! My poem may be a stub... But it's all worth it for Doki Doki Literature Club. I have tried other hobbies. How many I liked: none! There are twelve horrid curses, And adventuring isn't one. I may just be one small Protector, But now that we've been attacked, My ship was broken, destroyed! I had barely time to react. Stranded in space, thought I was lost. So I gave myself the quest To beam down, fix the ship, And save all the rest. Now the universe is in danger, Six artifacts must be found. I explore space to find them all. I am truly Starbound! They say it's better for me To get my own things done. There are 4 apocalyptic horsemen And my high score isn't one. I tripped and fell into a hole Forever going down... A small yellow flower Welcomed me Underground. Along the way, I met these beasts, Heard tales of those above. Learned of their search for humankind With SOULs full of LOVE. Long ago, we lived in peace With monsters, though that failed. It's up to me to free them In my little UNDERTALE. You may think that all these games Would weigh on me a ton. I have 99 problems, And gaming isn't one.
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Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 4:26 PM UTC
Gamer
They said that since I play certain games, I'm worth a broken shoe. They judge people for being fans! Think about that. Would you? My heart's pounding like a drum, But my blood is running cold. I came here with a question; The answer I must be told. The air is filled with music As I slash to the beat. Getting past just one zone Has got to be a feat! Searching for my long-lost Dad I need to find the answer... First, I must groove through the Crypt Of the NecroDancer! I play my games; all I want Is to have some fun. There are seven deadly sins, And my passion isn't one. My annoying childhood friend Sees me walking down the street. She overslept again! Now we finally meet. She told me I should join A club after school. I don't really want to, But if it makes her happy, it's cool. Turns out, it's full of adorable girls! My poem may be a stub... But it's all worth it for Doki Doki Literature Club. I have tried other hobbies. How many I liked: none! There are twelve horrid curses, And adventuring isn't one. I may just be one small Protector, But now that we've been attacked, My ship was broken, destroyed! I had barely time to react. Stranded in space, thought I was lost. So I gave myself the quest To beam down, fix the ship, And save all the rest. Now the universe is in danger, Six artifacts must be found. I explore space to find them all. I am truly Starbound! They say it's better for me To get my own things done. There are 4 apocalyptic horsemen And my high score isn't one. I tripped and fell into a hole Forever going down... A small yellow flower Welcomed me Underground. Along the way, I met these beasts, Heard tales of those above. Learned of their search for humankind With SOULs full of LOVE. Long ago, we lived in peace With monsters, though that failed. It's up to me to free them In my little UNDERTALE. You may think that all these games Would weigh on me a ton. I have 99 problems, And gaming isn't one.
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We wwirl and bow under roof tops and into metal shaving mirriors. I found in me tiny peices in love to humankind. New words new foundations lauph with ground breaking earth worms. We were slugs inching towards nine slimy hearts. Cut us down and we will give you one example one reason you are still yarn weaving through needle fused claws. Write four lines inside a tigers stripes. Give bees the chance to **** with kindness. Let us prove one changes into every universal creation to form another mothers spitt into faces and thumbs. This is proof we are one to eachother.
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Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 5:43 AM UTC
Atoms
i remember this one conversation with such clarity it alarms me in the dead of night with a longing for ecstasy seeping through his tone he asked me, "could..you imagine....what..life...would be like...if we weren't..mentally ill?" and with that question my hanging heart sunk even lower into its pit due to jealousy and frustration for my cursed blessing and i was confused on how for i had believed my heart already laid at what i'd thought to be rock bottom well besides that, he did provoke me to question is there is a chance for my heart to find its rightful place in my body yet again? and maybe along with it all of my chemical receptors, and my neurological network of pathways could all find their own harmonious balance and natural sources of dopamine, serotonin, and epinephrine and have them work "flaw"lessly   just, way they were originally created to when the goddess of mental crafted these things with such care and gifted those beautifully painful things to humankind **** the unholy things i'd do to obtain the goddess of neurotypicality's scientific? spiritual? situational? whatever the **** is in her elixir of secret for mental peace and serenity that few were blessed with unconditionally to me it just sounds like magic but back to him the only way i could reply was with, "i could only dream" for i believe in a lifetime of mine past i may may have made a deal with the devil of neurodiversity, a fallen angel without malice, who simply forgot to grant me the knowledge   of how i would be reborn into a world where its society would be unfit for me and my kind of mind and with that thought lingering i added, "but yeah...it must be nice"
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Jun 10, 2021
Jun 10, 2021 at 6:27 AM UTC
May the Goddess of Mental Stability Hear my Prayer
i remember this one conversation with such clarity it alarms me in the dead of night with a longing for ecstasy seeping through his tone he asked me, "could..you imagine....what..life...would be like...if we weren't..mentally ill?" and with that question my hanging heart sunk even lower into its pit due to jealousy and frustration for my cursed blessing and i was confused on how for i had believed my heart already laid at what i'd thought to be rock bottom well besides that, he did provoke me to question is there is a chance for my heart to find its rightful place in my body yet again? and maybe along with it all of my chemical receptors, and my neurological network of pathways could all find their own harmonious balance and natural sources of dopamine, serotonin, and epinephrine and have them work "flaw"lessly   just, way they were originally created to when the goddess of mental crafted these things with such care and gifted those beautifully painful things to humankind **** the unholy things i'd do to obtain the goddess of neurotypicality's scientific? spiritual? situational? whatever the **** is in her elixir of secret for mental peace and serenity that few were blessed with unconditionally to me it just sounds like magic but back to him the only way i could reply was with, "i could only dream" for i believe in a lifetime of mine past i may may have made a deal with the devil of neurodiversity, a fallen angel without malice, who simply forgot to grant me the knowledge   of how i would be reborn into a world where its society would be unfit for me and my kind of mind and with that thought lingering i added, "but yeah...it must be nice"
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59
I see you Sweet like candy But definitely a handful I don’t want to do anything to you I don’t want to do anything for you I would love to experience with you So the fave color is red There is beauty behind your eyes – in your head Brains built of action from your hands and happening in front of your eyes What a surprise when you spoke to me Simple yet impressive and something I did not see coming Love is where you find it Hot – sour – bitter – slightly messy Unconditional from the crown at the top of the head to bottom of the feet Now what ? I don’t want to do anything to you I don’t want to do anything for you I would love to experience with you Think of making love in a chair For this to work Both of us have to be willing and somewhat fair Are you really sure you want unconditional ? Can you actually accept my faults and failings ? I have never been to prison I believe in feelings I am an old man with ideas, designs and thoughts in a battle with the Universe I know how to trust you Can you hold the word commit when the sky falls ? I will never let you fall I promise I’ll never make you cry When you get scared I’ll hold you tighter You do not have to ask I am your fighter I would never question the Creator The thief of air has taken love from me Several times Was my heart being prepared for you ? Now what ? Can you accept my creative mess process ? Can you see the fun in how I get things done ? Are you willing and ready for the ride of a lifetime ? If your answer leans toward yes, double buckle – it going to be bumpy – but fun Our daughter will be divine Will you balk when I beg you to try for a son ? Your effect on another male can change the world and all humankind Spirit guides my life now I can’t explain it I know it when I see it Here are my jealousies Are you willing to grant me your T E A ? Time – Energy – Attention Let’s lock this energy in place I am willing to do – not try – do Bring me you I am better than I used to be Not as good as I will be Can you love a person like me ? I do not want your day I do not want your night I am a person of commitment I want your lifetime I will cherish those days you are mad at me I will cherish those days you don’t understand me No matter how sweet I promise to never cheat If I have to crawl thru broken glass I always come home Can your comfort zone let me share ? Right or wrong Will you be there ? Some things I do very strong Others start with tender Madness is not something I accept Yet, know that I stand And put all of life in a blender Here is the warning – the caveat : Are you a moth or a flame ? Feet on the ground Living The possibilities are all blue sky Tender ********** makes Angels cry
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Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC
Make The Angels Cry
I see you Sweet like candy But definitely a handful I don’t want to do anything to you I don’t want to do anything for you I would love to experience with you So the fave color is red There is beauty behind your eyes – in your head Brains built of action from your hands and happening in front of your eyes What a surprise when you spoke to me Simple yet impressive and something I did not see coming Love is where you find it Hot – sour – bitter – slightly messy Unconditional from the crown at the top of the head to bottom of the feet Now what ? I don’t want to do anything to you I don’t want to do anything for you I would love to experience with you Think of making love in a chair For this to work Both of us have to be willing and somewhat fair Are you really sure you want unconditional ? Can you actually accept my faults and failings ? I have never been to prison I believe in feelings I am an old man with ideas, designs and thoughts in a battle with the Universe I know how to trust you Can you hold the word commit when the sky falls ? I will never let you fall I promise I’ll never make you cry When you get scared I’ll hold you tighter You do not have to ask I am your fighter I would never question the Creator The thief of air has taken love from me Several times Was my heart being prepared for you ? Now what ? Can you accept my creative mess process ? Can you see the fun in how I get things done ? Are you willing and ready for the ride of a lifetime ? If your answer leans toward yes, double buckle – it going to be bumpy – but fun Our daughter will be divine Will you balk when I beg you to try for a son ? Your effect on another male can change the world and all humankind Spirit guides my life now I can’t explain it I know it when I see it Here are my jealousies Are you willing to grant me your T E A ? Time – Energy – Attention Let’s lock this energy in place I am willing to do – not try – do Bring me you I am better than I used to be Not as good as I will be Can you love a person like me ? I do not want your day I do not want your night I am a person of commitment I want your lifetime I will cherish those days you are mad at me I will cherish those days you don’t understand me No matter how sweet I promise to never cheat If I have to crawl thru broken glass I always come home Can your comfort zone let me share ? Right or wrong Will you be there ? Some things I do very strong Others start with tender Madness is not something I accept Yet, know that I stand And put all of life in a blender Here is the warning – the caveat : Are you a moth or a flame ? Feet on the ground Living The possibilities are all blue sky Tender ********** makes Angels cry
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