"hypocracy" poems
Hypocracy Mandatory.
Gullibility Mandatory.
Insensitivity Mandatory.
Obesity Mandatory.
Immaturity Mandatory.
Childishness Mandatory.
Monarchy Mandatory.
Capitalism Mandatory.
Conservatism Mandatory.
Terrorism Mandatory.
Corruption Mandatory.
Incompetence Mandatory.
Socialism Mandatory.
Dictatorship Mandatory.
Militarism Mandatory.
Liberalism Mandatory.
Bhuddism Mandatory.
Islam Mandatory.
Christianity Mandatory.
Judaism Mandatory.
Hinduism Mandatory.
Vedism Mandatory.
Hatred Mandatory.
Anarchy Mandatory.
Jealousy Mandatory.
Nationalism Mandatory.
Fascism Mandatory.
Racism Mandatory.
Lies Mandatory.
Hypocracy Mandatory.
Obesity Mandatory.
Heart Disease Mandatory.
Cancer Mandatory.
Idiocy Mandatory.
Eco-Nazism Mandatory.
All of us Humans.
Of all Five Colours.
Wherever we be.
Whatever we do.
However we "see" ourselves.
What do we call ourselves now?.
How about shallow nitpickers?.
Or celebrity obsessed morons?.
Or religious hypocrits?.
Or Democrats?.
Or Socialists?.
Or Revolutionaries.
Or just plain "nice folks"?.
Or supporters of oligarchy policies?.
Or immature backpackers?.
Or government assassins of integrity?.
Or juicy ***********
Or swift tongued ******** ticklers?.
no matter how many lie dead or injured as a result
of our obfuscation and avoidance.
As if poets have the explanation to life
except in strings of meaningless associated
but fine sounding words.
When "poets" are the voluntary slaves of Mind
and Conditioned Identity..
As if poets had the ***** to go beyond all these things.
As if .
Scrape the Moons suface and you will find a delicate Castello Blue Cream Cheese.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
Ladle Guilt, blame, and regret into me
Someone should convict me and restrict me from emotion
Crest-fallen, I yearn for redamancy
I tormented time with a turbulent fallacy
Condemn my illicit distribution of preconceived notion
Ladle guilt, blame, and regret into me
I can’t recall tasting stories without choking on hypocracy
For all that makes peace & love stems from chaotic commotion
Crest-fallen, I yearn for redamancy
But too long my eyes merely saw until the day I learned to see
Not importance placed like a trophy case but in honest raw devotion
Ladle guilt, blame, and regret into me
Promises sink like anchors, for their nightmare’s being free
We struggled finding solace and settled for continuous motion
Crest-fallen, I yearn for redamancy
If only I could do things differently
Cast a spell, think before I speak, perhaps produce a potion
Ladle guilt, blame, and regret into me
Crest-fallen, I yearn for redamancy
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 6:53 AM UTC
You need a porcelain mixing bowl and a wooden stirring spoon
a cup and a measuring jug.
Add one teaspoon of ripe inconsequentiality.
then add two teaspoons of innate stupidity.
Pour in one cupfull of political lack of integrity
preferably nurtured in hot smelly air.
Add 4 cupsfull of facile celebrity chatter,
preferably with the volume turned down..
Add 2 cupsfull of shallow religious nonsense
full of obsequious morality.
Add 2 cupsfull of vain "god" chatter
and sacrificial demands.
Pour in 1/4 cup of nonsensical "goddess" humbug
and fatuous posturing.
Sift untold millions of youthfull soldiers dried
and powdered bones until finely ground in the crucible
of never ending wars.
Take up the wooden spoon of societal hypocracy
and stir slowly with gossipy backstabbing.
When all these ingredients are blended as smoothly as a shaven young girls **** put to one side covered with a bloodstained cloth for a millennia to rise to the occasion.
Back in an hour
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 12:40 AM UTC
The sun beams across the horizon.
Today is a new day.
My feet hit the ground, awakening the enemy.
I feel a pull on my legs
I fall to the ground
Crushed under the foot of the enemy
Today is a new day
I pick myself up, brushing the settled dust from yesterday’s battle.
Each step is taken in agony.
He stalks me wherever I go.
Every turn, every step you are there.
Breathing on my neck
I turn and run to my Lord.
The chains stop me and I fall.
Grabbing my hand, you spin me around.
Catching me and lifting me.
We dance.
Left right, left right.
Heel, toe, heel toe,
Spin, spin, sway.
You pull me away.
The chains keep the beat.
For I am under his subjugation.
He pulls me back by the chains.
Straining my every move.
He is the puppeteer of my life, staggering every step.
My bones ache, my faith quakes.
Bruised, broken, weary and lost am I.
Being walked by chains.
Every turn, every step you are there.
Breathing on my neck
I turn and run to my Lord.
The chains stop me and I fall.
Grabbing my hand, you spin me around.
Catching me and lifting me.
We dance.
Left right, left right.
Heel, toe, heel toe,
Spin, spin, sway.
You pull me away.
I stand in God’s house, defined by my religion.
“It’s all a show you see? You are my marionette.
Hypocracy lies in you, you’re a fraud in Christ’s name.”
Escape I try escape I will.
For my help comes from the Lord.
The enemy cringes at The Name.
The ground shakes, and the chains shake.
For there is power in the name of my Lord!
He stands before me.
Taking the chains in his posession.
He said it is done, take up your cross and follow me.
Jesus breaks the chains.
Jesus set me free!
No more addiction.
No more pain.
No more shame.
No more guilt.
No more sorrow.
For He holds your tomorrow.
You are not defined by the rules of religion.
For my spirit has
set
you
free.
The motions bind you in chains.
For I have broken every chain.
You are free to dance in my name.
Never again will you waltz with Satan.
My child may I have this dance?
Dance with me wherever you go, and I will never leave you.
God takes me by the hand.
We dance.
I cling to his garment, never letting go.
Lifting me and catching me.
Left right, left right.
Heel, toe, heel toe,
Spin, spin, spin.
God your presence carries me away.
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 10:19 PM UTC
There exsists people
who live on the bread of
Inequality
Injustice
Hypocracy
Prejudice
Dear those people
I must say
you are really poor
A girl is borned
tangled in so many boundations
and these restrictions
are right from where
their lifecycle begins
to their deaths
Belive me these chains
which grab them
weigh them more than
anything
Some die
Some struggle
Some protest
These activities
are all variant
but why only girls
need to do all of that
why they have to beg for their
FREEDOM
why they are so desperate
for education
There is only one life
to live in this
beautiful world
let us not waste that
lets unleash those chains
lets break those cages
lets remove that handcuffs
and make this world more beautiful
Aug 6, 2020
Aug 6, 2020 at 5:45 AM UTC
Honesty,
I demand so much,
Too much truthfullness,
Yet this hypocracy is inevitable,
If it had been anything else,
But this inquisition,
I wouldn't be so hesitant,
To reveal myself,
But I can't take,
Another letdown,
So here's a lie,
The first,
The last,
"No"
Mar 7, 2011
Mar 7, 2011 at 9:49 PM UTC
Poetry whirls down drains,
cruises down highway lanes..
toll free.
Poetry is a clear potion,
a natural motion.
Poetry is the bird gliding high,
and of course, the sky.
Poetry is thundering elk
through forests and glades,
and the wolves that keep pace.
Poetry is the ****
Poetry is democracy,
and its unfortunate hypocracy.
Poetry is eternity vanished in an instant.
Poetry is a slaughterhouse,
a vegetable garden.
Poetry is cat and mouse.
Poetry ascends to descend,
breaks to repair,
it's uncommonly rare.
Poetry is the longest minute
and the shortest hour.
Poetry lives when it is dead.
Poetry comes from the body,
thought by the head.
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 1:51 AM UTC
Allow me to be a better mother than my own
Allow me to be trustworthy when my children confide in me
Allow me to be reasonable when my children make mistakes
Allow me to see my children through eyes of wisdom, not judgement
Allow me to be genuine in m support, not condescending
Allow me to never be selfish, self-involved, self-centered in any decisions regarding my children
Allow me to show sincerity in my actions as a mother, not hypocracy
Allow me to say 'I'm sorry'
A human being will never be perfect, but in a child's eyes, a mother can be
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 11:25 PM UTC
Liar.
Theif.
Villain.
STOP
Open your eyes for one in your life and realize that you are not perfect.
That by declaring such hurtful things, you are welcoming hypocracy with open arms.
You are armed with hatred and feed chaos that which you spent months saving from the gallows.
Step out of the shadows when you glance in the mirror to see yourself as others do.
Prove that there is still something worth seeing rather than inflicting
That worthless feeling on everyone you meet.
Liar.
Theif.
Villain.
I KNOW
I'm not alright.
I never claimed to say I was or am or will become
After you've unclenched your hands from ringing me dry of love and beating me senseless.
Now, step back and look at the mess you've left with destruction and pain
For each life you've touched.
Liar.
Theif.
Villain.
LISTEN
Cease building your walls of defense up higher than your line of sight
And see that you are alone.
No one waits to hear your shouts and calls through the empty halls of the maze
You've trapped yourself within.
All that remains is the whisper of your own song,
Echoing back at you.
Villain
Liar
Theif
Apr 17, 2012
Apr 17, 2012 at 5:09 PM UTC
All these whinging intellectual poetic wankers,
scribbling Conditional Love "poems"that boringly
lament why they are such obvious failures
at the game of life and self realisation.
Spewing out weasel words of poetic hypocracy while
wrapped in navel gazing infantile emotions.
Writing degenerate untruthful words about a love
they'll never know or never have known,
as if unconditional love can be bought
at the local Walmart.
Voluntarily assisting the machinations of mind and groupmind,
since their birth into a lifetime of Conditioned Identity,
in the servitude of the Amerikan Oligarchy .
Strings of meaningless associated words,
lines of lies about life and love that are ever popular with "poets".
Starting with every one of the so-called "holy" books
from millennia past--calling for suicide bombers
and child killers to strut the world stage
spewing religious racism and sexism like enlightened beings..
After all words have NO SHAME
nor have poets..
Sin Verguensa.
Words have NO GUILT
nor have poets.
Words have NO EMBARASSMENT
nor have poets.
You cannot hide behind your lies from me.
I see you--I have nous.
Your beard is transparent.
Your unceasing lies deny to others information
to which they are entitled,
"poets" are the worst LIARS of all,
so easily spottable .
Read these pages--see for yourself,
through my eyes .
See the silly shit-fed children of the Amerikan Oligarchy,
wrapped in spangles and colours --posturing like super-heroes.
Vomiting verbal diahorea in lifes gutters,
appealing for just one more chance
to play at love and humiliation.
People with low IQs and lower morals
pretending ,as always, to be mature and human,
characters moulded like products of talk show hosts .
No integrity.
No truthfulness.
No honour.
No decency.
No morals except those learned from Readers Digest.
No to these escapees from the gallows of decency,
torture instruments dangling round their necks,
their prophet validated by being nailed and denied.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC
SoHo
South of Houston,
an ethnic divide
that turned into yuppiedom
and new hipsters,
but not the Beat kind.
I miss those snaps,
the Nueyorican taps
of bullet fast words
steppin’ into the streets
with wild eyes beats
and the howling rage
at hypocracy.
Now all you find
is dead eyed
zombied out,
but starbucks energized
bunnies
and freaky fellows,
all into themselves
as though they
knew something
more than the chase for
money and ***
And they say this
is the American Dream;
follow the greed
as humanity burns
to pay for these pleasures.
SoHo, Village groupies
who long ago
gave up their tongues
and their eyes...
Aztec Warrior 8.2.15
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
Tara is a little girl…she does pinwheels and cartwheels on crowded traffic signals and yeah …she has a small baby monkey who helps her…
Tara
Little Tara
Tonight I leave my
Pen to sniff
hunger ghosts
Rumbling in your belly…
Yes..
sniff from
Miles and miles apart
From your own
Ragged world
Of pin wheels
And cartwheels
Emaciated monkey babes
Ah ! In this hollow
Poetic world
Is it only rhythm
I seek …
Even as cold winds
Enter those gaps
Expanding forever
In your innocent
malnourished psyche…
Tara..
little Tara
tell me ..
how to give
a closure
to this verse…
Do I ask
You how
Your new year
Had been
Or..
Do I
Fish that
Rusted coin
From the bottom
Of my purse and
Toss it on
To your eager
Waiting palm
Tara..
Little Tara
Tell me
Helpless as I am
Shrouded
In my opulent hypocracy
…
As you are
…shivering
In your humble poverty
Jan 1, 2011
Jan 1, 2011 at 7:32 PM UTC
In beautiful waves of
Reds
Old cartoons
Stupid jokes
Laughter ringing in my ear like sunshine
Tangurines
Purples
A mother's hypocracy
A lovely woman, sleeping softly
Rainy Days
Sadness
Bird songs
A beautiful spring dress wore to a morbid event
Greens
The sounds of a young adolecent trying to prove her point
Teals
A child's stubborn nature
Black
The nostalgia comes
To a weary heart
And suddenly I need an asprin
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 8:04 PM UTC
**when you are gone,
i take long naps to pass the time and dream of your return,
smoke aimlessly until i time travel, feel this unwhole feeling, that i want to forget and try hopelessly to fill when you aint here, the struggle becomes real, a cruel, cruel world in which i struggle to fit in, a burden that arises again and again.. making my own decisions without your consent...
i often find myself into some ****
*** reality always finds its way in, just like a creeping shadow
... when you are gone
i learn of hypocracy, i know scrupulosity
intrusive thoughts are always blinding, a confusion that is binding.
sometimes i cant tell the good from the bad so thats when i sit alone and
get high, get ******
yes pride keeps this inside but in my mind im never too proud to beg you "come back home to me babe, come home."
come home! come homeeee :(**
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 12:19 AM UTC
She said he was wealthy,
owned several properties,
endowed several churches
and sired seven children,
all of whom he disowned.
For her, evidence that wealth
doesn't always trickle down.
He left it to foreign missions,
teachers of intolerance.
Tattered black and white photo,
his eyes glare from crackled glaze,
severe stare, pefected
through lifelong practice,
or simply hypocracy.
Malevolence sparked her old, blue,
hooded eyes as she told me of his death.
He claimed he did not suffer
because of his righteousness.
She bore her story as a curse,
relieved to pass it on to me.
Now I pass the burden on.
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 1:58 PM UTC
I see it as precious this beauty
expression is futile, outspoken yet soft
I laugh out loud for my spirit
the only thing that matters
why are you set on this hypocracy
all the rest like you are the same
give the furrow a break, it makes
for a tortorous day
must you be obnoxious,
or fake with hands
its toxic why exhaust you
understand the real beauty
soften your heart uplifting tongues
outsmarting ties and bars
let it out soft,
let it out soft
live your life
Aug 15, 2011
Aug 15, 2011 at 7:10 AM UTC
What is it about Christmas that brings out worst and the best and in people?
I have to have the biggest and best dressed tree
The presents I give cost a fortune
In fact I'll probably still be paying this time next year
Throwing a big party again, inviting people of influence
Even though I hardly know them
Christmas morning and egg nog for all the neighbors
I don't even like most of them
But I have a position to maintain
Jim down the road now he's real white trash
Shabby unpainted house and unkempt yard
BUT
The cheap cards he sends are sent with love
Sure he'll invite a few friend round on Christmas eve
Share a few cheap beers, maybe a pizza
Real and true friends who don't expect much
Sure his kids will get presents, nothing fancy but paid for with hard cash
No egg nog for him on Christmas morning
Just a family gathering giving thanks for what they have
Who do you admire the most?
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 7:56 AM UTC
Deceits and lies that people tell
I’ve grown to know them oh so well
They tell you they love you and that they care
When you find in your back a knife sticking there.
While they are with you , they’ll talk and joke
Then with others at you they poke.
Is it that they need to be the center attraction?
When everyone gathers around
Then they abuse the friends they have found.
Unfortunately this prevails in many women I meet
Where they’re good at their lies and deceits.
They’ll start off with: “I LOVE YOUR BLOUSE”
And “YOU’RE LOOKING SO GREAT”
But in their minds your blouse they hate.
They’ll criticize you to no end
Then turn around and say they’re your friend.
Many times we’ll judge people at first glance
But we’ve got to learn to know them
And give them a chance.
But these are people with insecurities
Their own faults they just don’t see.
Then they fall in love and say that others
Are out to get their man, and start to create
Their devious plan.
Now the lies and deceits begin
With people like this you just can’t win.
We have to stop them in their tracks
Otherwise they’ll be no turning back.
We must tell them about their hypocracy
Just so they’ll stay away from you and me.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 11:30 PM UTC
Just watched the remembrance service
Just as I do every year
Commemorating all those brave boys and girls
Who over the years made the final sacrifice
Did they do it for God queen and country
No
They gave their young lives for the comrades beside them
Apologies to you believers
But they didn't die with Gods name on their lips
They died scared, covered in blood and ****
Yes
We should remember them
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 5:41 PM UTC
Keep on letting us know how bad the break up was.
Some of us are just as bad as you mite think.
Anxiety, helplesness, ******** all ********
Fill this website with garbage.
Becuase I am as bad as you are.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 12:02 AM UTC
when you are gone,
i take long naps to pass the time and dream of your return,
smoke aimlessly until i time travel, feel this unwhole feeling, that i want to forget and try hopelessly to fill when you aint here, the struggle becomes real, a cruel, cruel world in which i struggle to fit in, a burden that arises again and again.. making my own decisions without your consent...
i often find myself into some ****
*** reality always finds its way in, just like a creeping shadow
when you are gone
i learn of hypocracy, i know scrupulosity
intrusive thoughts are always blinding, a confusion that is binding.
sometimes i cant tell the good from the bad so thats when i sit alone and
get high, get ******
yes pride keeps this inside but in my mind im never too proud to beg you "come back home to me babe, come home."
come home! come homeeee :(
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 12:18 AM UTC
To the great brothers and great sisters of Her womb
To the great Mother and great Father, shifting through and through
Calling upon them for the great wisdom of our age
To bridge the gap between science and the sacred
This land has no boundaries, all conventions are made believe
and we are made to believe that politicians have our backs
while the preasts of a false language preach hypocracy to our faces
This is not our Shangrala, we have lost our grasp of Eden
Turning our garden into a guard, lost, we have turned a paradise
to a prison; old men casting aspersions of disrespect to a newborn,
blaming a victim of an obsolete tradition, casting salt onto the soil,
and calling it a blessing.
The prophets throughout the ages have seen a brighter world,
one that had, at its core, the truth; we are all one spirit, inhabiting these many forms.
This illusion of form and distance, made to be overcome, has illuded many, but not them;
They gave us the wisdom to escape the eternal womb of the mind,
and grow gracefully in the warmth of the Father Sun.
Trained to be beaten and broken, our new prophets have been beld and misled.
We call this machine, cold and calculating, Education; beaten and broken from the inside, our prophets are internally bleading: rose red ink on term papers with F wrote large!
**** you! The first words of resistance cries. I am my own authority,
I seek the truth, not your lies!
Tearing down the walls, and begining to tell a new story, we new prophets challenge "the way things are," because nothing is certain;
Our conscious evolution transcends to the stars, and starts in the grasses slowly showing their infinite patience and strangth, like a soft blade breaking the solid ground of traditions floor.
Be the evolution, brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, be the change, and the change becomes you!
Agape and Appreciation
~M
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
Dissapating clarity
An invoiced heartache
A handpicked flower, lost
To gullible hypocracy
Dreary, windy, however bright
Mute songbirds terrified
Of the silence after the storm
They have wings, why do they fear height?
The life ending natural cause
Who you thought would give warmth
Left your eyes hungry for more,
For just a little bit more applause
The benefit of circumstance
Keep the leaves hanging on
Wanting to fall, needing to fall
They will learn the meaning of distance
Jun 24, 2019
Jun 24, 2019 at 9:27 AM UTC
I wanna express my gratitude... to the few of you who didn't think I was too young or naieve to give advice. As a person with my analytical mindset, I love problem solving. I told my uncle that I have a weird affinity for broken women. I love people with stories to tell. Love the way legs can still stand despite the struggle. Love watching people break away from their own tragerdies. I love the thought you can dilute a great concentration of pain with just a little bit of kindness. Like liting candles in pitch black spaces, it only takes something small. My uncle says it's because people like me are wired to seek out things that need solutions. That's not to say they can't find their own solutions. I just like to see if I can play a part. So like tatoo artists on surgey wards. We sketch our art over people scars. Inject colour into their dark sides. Extend ourselves into their life lines.
We wanna fill what feels hollow.
Inscribe instrustions on how to smile and see if you'll follow.
And to anyone who thought what I said was good enough to act upon... thank you... and sorry.
Because hypocracy is a crime I practice all too often. Putting my own advice into application is extceedingly uncommon.
I would never take my own advice.
Because honesty with my loved ones would cause too much heart ache, I can not simply "just be open and real with her"
I cannot wear this skin with genuine pride because I would never "just be yourself man".
And despite the words falling falling out my mouth as we speak, why the **** would I understand "you are your own worst enemy. If you'd just believe in yourself you'd be surprised with what you can achieve".
To the many or the few who took my advice.
Who rolled the dice, who paid the price.
A penny for my thoughts and whether every thing changed or if all was for naught.
Maybe we just need to hear someone else say it. We so often are expected too try and stand tall in a world with ceilings that are too small. All some of us need, is to know that we're saying the right things.
So for everytime I was never told, I'm telling you. Let our voices be glitter and our ears be glue. Let people sparkle! Entice their shine so brlightly that they startle. Tell people all things you wanted to hear.
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 1:04 PM UTC
Why is it that,
every time I do something
that you once did,
I get yelled at?
I get judged?
I get thrown into a hypocracy circle?
Why is it that,
every time I try to liven up the scene,
and joke around,
I get told that I'm so "annoying" and "bothersome"?
Meanwhile in the same way,
you're talking about yourself,
but the words that linger on your lips,
are words embedded in my head.
In a secret folder,
of all the words I never once said.
Why is it that,
I'm always thee bad guy.
Not just a bad guy,
but the bad guy that always get caught in the circle,
and constantly gets fingers pointed at them,
for portraying the same actions you once did.
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 4:52 PM UTC