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"ignor" poems
You lurk in chat rooms talkin bout what you'd like to do. All naked accept for a captian's hat. Ya know after hello it's probaly not best to ask do you wanna ***** Mr pervert do you enjoy. Taking trips to mexico maybe to take in a show. Getting beat with a wire hanger being called a bad boy. Were ya born with a ***** loose? Did uncle Charlie get to friendly and papa John slip something in your juice? Do you really like farm hand dot com thats just wrong. No Mr pervert I dont wanna see pics of you covered in oil wearing a thong. And im really not into what ya can fit up your *** Glad to know what happend to that goon at the back of the class. No you cant have my number. Okay your a woodman. Please I really dont need any pics of your lumber. No I dont wanna wrestle in the dark you freak. Yes im happy you enjoy being beat every other day of the week. You really need some help. Yes I think to catch a preditor would be a great show for you to make a appearence. No I dont wanna play airlane. so ***** your clearence. Please why cant that connection to your basement just go out. Guess what your doing now. Well to be honest I know without a single doubt. I can imagine what its like to be you. well ***** that cause theres some **** so freaky even I wont do. So when ya see that name appear on the screen it's probaly best to ignor. I mean unless your really into hanging out with a lathred up nut who eats outta a dog dish apon the floor. I was flipping through the channels and to no suprize what did I see. why dateline with Chris Hanson and Mr pervert on my t.v. I had to laugh at every word said. Gooodbye Mr pervert. Didnt take a geinus to figure out you were ****** up in the head.
0
Feb 17, 2010
Feb 17, 2010 at 11:33 AM UTC
MR Pervert
You lurk in chat rooms talkin bout what you'd like to do. All naked accept for a captian's hat. Ya know after hello it's probaly not best to ask do you wanna ***** Mr pervert do you enjoy. Taking trips to mexico maybe to take in a show. Getting beat with a wire hanger being called a bad boy. Were ya born with a ***** loose? Did uncle Charlie get to friendly and papa John slip something in your juice? Do you really like farm hand dot com thats just wrong. No Mr pervert I dont wanna see pics of you covered in oil wearing a thong. And im really not into what ya can fit up your *** Glad to know what happend to that goon at the back of the class. No you cant have my number. Okay your a woodman. Please I really dont need any pics of your lumber. No I dont wanna wrestle in the dark you freak. Yes im happy you enjoy being beat every other day of the week. You really need some help. Yes I think to catch a preditor would be a great show for you to make a appearence. No I dont wanna play airlane. so ***** your clearence. Please why cant that connection to your basement just go out. Guess what your doing now. Well to be honest I know without a single doubt. I can imagine what its like to be you. well ***** that cause theres some **** so freaky even I wont do. So when ya see that name appear on the screen it's probaly best to ignor. I mean unless your really into hanging out with a lathred up nut who eats outta a dog dish apon the floor. I was flipping through the channels and to no suprize what did I see. why dateline with Chris Hanson and Mr pervert on my t.v. I had to laugh at every word said. Gooodbye Mr pervert. Didnt take a geinus to figure out you were ****** up in the head.
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54
Memories like you dont always shine true. Nor do old places hold that magic. In a life so short. That seems so traggic. Im thinking of forever while slowley fading away. Oh such clear thinking on a cloudy day. A summer ago is when we met. So far now it seems. Yet the still my heart holds no regret. The poetry you inspired apon this very page. Is ment to complment a love without age. Early morning memories that you've lent. Is simpley a dream of time well spent. A dark sky hides the sunlights ray. Such is the clear thinking on such a cloudy day. Im not blind yet for years hope has went unseen. Sometimes age can taint a sweet dream. Turning bitter the once colorful fruit. Killing wonder straight at the root. A love like our's has kept with change. And grown in definance. Like a silly game. We formed this this passion swept Alliance. First with love you must blindly fall. Then you must try to run when you can bareley crawl. To outlast the storms is to stand against the wind. To ignor friends and to put trust in a stranger and depend. Many thoughts run through my head. In the early morning as she lay against me in bed. A heart has many rivers a soul is a endless sea. As we apart we are caged. While togather we are free. From this loves eternal bliss my heart should never stray. As i sit clear is my thinking on such a cloudy day.
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Oct 20, 2009
Oct 20, 2009 at 7:55 AM UTC
Clear Thinking On A Cloudy Day
There was a story hanging there from the edge of my bed but its teller I didn't want to know so the story went unsaid I thought I could ignor you hanging there leave you to gently be but after days you're still there I'll admit you terrorise me You crawl in through my eyelids to my otherwise peaceful dreams you mock me as your silence seems to amplify my screams and they keep on getting louder because I keep them locked inside and so they rage right through me until everything I once was has died They ***** my dignity disemboweled my calm tortured vociferously my very entity after knawing through the logical side of my brain so that the only part remaining is the part that is insane Now as I swing from side to side from the rope you've spun for me I see you joyously scurry by maybe we're both now finally free And from my perch in heaven If I ever look back down I look at you and reflect that I'd have done it differently second time round I'd definetly heard you're story I'd have given it a chance maybe we could have been great friends and we could sing and laugh and dance There's plenty of your kind in heaven and they're all great dancers too I regret I didn't know you before but now I look forward to meeting you
0
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 6:54 AM UTC
Spider
Master, this was said to me should I be triggered or flogged? Think Sisyphus happy. What year is this? Babble, babble, all around me, no God, not this, again. It's all in yer head, keep rollin' the rock. keepin time, makin rime rimey rime frees icicles on my beard if you could see me now, Hell, who imagined this? I am Sisyphus happy and Sysifus sad, now for as long as I care to recall I roll the rock. It was the hell I had envisioned, since Camus at least, probably something triggered, seventh grade, oh cliché, except the details, the evil, as seen in the thirteenth year of an unwombed man's journey, womb to tomb. I rolled the rock. Alone as all hell, bored as hell. food and drink, folly to think so I stop thinking about them as if someone thinks I can and I think I can. Let's doit daydream cliché, same seventh grader asks Diane Wescott if he can kiss her under the water at the deep end of the public pool Like Tarzan and Jane and she said yes, again and again and again like the expert's rats that are allowed to suicide on big pharma grade ******* Wahoo, that got the rock rollin' like I never thought she would now yah, Jah, know what I mean, Billie Jean, the kid coulda been mine But I was rockin' and rollin' all night long, notime, noo time ah tahlllll Some minds may imagine Sisyphus happy, but up to not too long ago I fail, failed am failing to re call member hotline now, Matrix Wachowskie, bact to your box, I am haunted by that movie, in 2018 keyphrase 2018 trigger Matrix movie 1 not the movie, the idea of endless bullets. Who imagined that, Hell, this is easy. Right, two persona one person sort of story, no, too, Jekyl n Heckle I can think any thing as long as I roll the rock. This will go on forever, as far as I can tell. Rock and roll will live forever, let's take that as a given, and just ignor the steady up and down, resistance to punching down force goes up and release, the rock rolls as far as Luck would have it, statically, probably pause. breathe, read The rhythm varies, I'm in forever, not in hell. Push.
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Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 7:16 PM UTC
Thus Zorro asked her, Think Sisyphus happy.
Master, this was said to me should I be triggered or flogged? Think Sisyphus happy. What year is this? Babble, babble, all around me, no God, not this, again. It's all in yer head, keep rollin' the rock. keepin time, makin rime rimey rime frees icicles on my beard if you could see me now, Hell, who imagined this? I am Sisyphus happy and Sysifus sad, now for as long as I care to recall I roll the rock. It was the hell I had envisioned, since Camus at least, probably something triggered, seventh grade, oh cliché, except the details, the evil, as seen in the thirteenth year of an unwombed man's journey, womb to tomb. I rolled the rock. Alone as all hell, bored as hell. food and drink, folly to think so I stop thinking about them as if someone thinks I can and I think I can. Let's doit daydream cliché, same seventh grader asks Diane Wescott if he can kiss her under the water at the deep end of the public pool Like Tarzan and Jane and she said yes, again and again and again like the expert's rats that are allowed to suicide on big pharma grade ******* Wahoo, that got the rock rollin' like I never thought she would now yah, Jah, know what I mean, Billie Jean, the kid coulda been mine But I was rockin' and rollin' all night long, notime, noo time ah tahlllll Some minds may imagine Sisyphus happy, but up to not too long ago I fail, failed am failing to re call member hotline now, Matrix Wachowskie, bact to your box, I am haunted by that movie, in 2018 keyphrase 2018 trigger Matrix movie 1 not the movie, the idea of endless bullets. Who imagined that, Hell, this is easy. Right, two persona one person sort of story, no, too, Jekyl n Heckle I can think any thing as long as I roll the rock. This will go on forever, as far as I can tell. Rock and roll will live forever, let's take that as a given, and just ignor the steady up and down, resistance to punching down force goes up and release, the rock rolls as far as Luck would have it, statically, probably pause. breathe, read The rhythm varies, I'm in forever, not in hell. Push.
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63
twinkle wrinkles, seen close up they are the tracks of wind driven tears on a sunburned face, at the edges of the eye, past the per if ery of what perfidy* made you think you saw. come see how come we saw too far and fell from grace to glory. That is the story. The good new on the old new built bottom up, like Gobekli-Tepi. --- horizons past the lusters after wisdom's arcane quarry --- we live, we learn, we die to know why and we do as soon as forever starts it never stopped, hence, forever is what we agree it is. This, now we remain in until we die, moments from now, then, now breathe or don't ultimately, whence comes the will to breathe? go on, answer. or ignor, innocence is no excuse, you know. these quest ions all have positive and negative points, anionics seek cationics, OHOH, what if cathode rays never got past the atmosphere, those are causing all the static-info-friction Bad vibe waves corrupting the qualcommsplitfreqs, left from millions of hours of I love Lucy and Dobie Gillis. Mr. Kruschev, build a wall. Show our boys their counterparts failing to escape, crucified on barbed wire west of the Brandenburg Gate, Bel's gate, arche de tri'umph, eh? Confusion won the war, but war won't work here. NULL ified it, we did, into the NULL with all its lies each time we catch one. As good as never was. *Poet's Policy of acknowledging previous ignorances, acts of ignoring resulting, effectively, in wasted years perfidy (n.) means since 1590s, from Middle French perfidie (16c.), from Latin perfidia  "faithlessness, falsehood, treachery," from perfidus"faithless," from phrase per fidem decipere  "to deceive through trustingness," from per "through" (from PIE root *per- (1) "forward," hence "through") + fidem (nominative fides) "faith" (from PIE root *bheidh- "to trust, confide, persuade"). [C]ombinations of wickedness would overwhelm the world by the advantage which licentious principles afford, did not those who have long practiced perfidy grow faithless to each other. [Samuel Johnson, "Life of Waller"] From <https://www.etymonline.com/word/perfidy#etymonline_v_12685>
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Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 5:03 PM UTC
Smile Lines
twinkle wrinkles, seen close up they are the tracks of wind driven tears on a sunburned face, at the edges of the eye, past the per if ery of what perfidy* made you think you saw. come see how come we saw too far and fell from grace to glory. That is the story. The good new on the old new built bottom up, like Gobekli-Tepi. --- horizons past the lusters after wisdom's arcane quarry --- we live, we learn, we die to know why and we do as soon as forever starts it never stopped, hence, forever is what we agree it is. This, now we remain in until we die, moments from now, then, now breathe or don't ultimately, whence comes the will to breathe? go on, answer. or ignor, innocence is no excuse, you know. these quest ions all have positive and negative points, anionics seek cationics, OHOH, what if cathode rays never got past the atmosphere, those are causing all the static-info-friction Bad vibe waves corrupting the qualcommsplitfreqs, left from millions of hours of I love Lucy and Dobie Gillis. Mr. Kruschev, build a wall. Show our boys their counterparts failing to escape, crucified on barbed wire west of the Brandenburg Gate, Bel's gate, arche de tri'umph, eh? Confusion won the war, but war won't work here. NULL ified it, we did, into the NULL with all its lies each time we catch one. As good as never was. *Poet's Policy of acknowledging previous ignorances, acts of ignoring resulting, effectively, in wasted years perfidy (n.) means since 1590s, from Middle French perfidie (16c.), from Latin perfidia  "faithlessness, falsehood, treachery," from perfidus"faithless," from phrase per fidem decipere  "to deceive through trustingness," from per "through" (from PIE root *per- (1) "forward," hence "through") + fidem (nominative fides) "faith" (from PIE root *bheidh- "to trust, confide, persuade"). [C]ombinations of wickedness would overwhelm the world by the advantage which licentious principles afford, did not those who have long practiced perfidy grow faithless to each other. [Samuel Johnson, "Life of Waller"] From <https://www.etymonline.com/word/perfidy#etymonline_v_12685>
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47
Quit checking for monsters under the bed, When I realized the only monster was the one in my head. My buds have blossomed, some even wilted. To the world I am walking tall, inside I'm way off kilter. Far from what I once was, yet not sure as to what I am to be. I've traveled so far, but have so much to see. I watch as my footprints fade behind. Can't help, but crave a rewind. Too hard to constantly look back. It eats away at me everyday, as a matter of fact. However, everyday is a fresh start for me. Stopped leaning on what could have been, & started looking at what could be. Like riding a bike, there is only one way to keep your balance. You have to keep moving...that's the challenege. Take risks, be brave, ignor the interference. There is nothing in this world that can replace experience. It's about the places we go, people we meet...things we do my dear. We must travel in the direction of our fear. It should derive from your dreams, if not they aren't nearly big enough. Stand tall with open eyes & keep your skin tough. I may not have made it to where I want to go, but I think this is exactly where I need to be. To be honest, it's not easy, but the challenge is adrenaline to me. You aren't living if you take on the world with stealth. Life isn't about finding, but instead, creating yourself. I have realized that elegance is not being noticed...it's about being remembered. So i don't know about you...but my doubts have surrendered. Time to start living for the moment with confidence. After all, we only live once, so start listening to your conscience. There is a world full of obvious things, that go unoticed everyday. Mouths full of words that aren't sure how to be delervered in the right way. Open your senses to feel everything, take it all in. Let loose and just go with the wind.
0
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
Follow Your Fears
Quit checking for monsters under the bed, When I realized the only monster was the one in my head. My buds have blossomed, some even wilted. To the world I am walking tall, inside I'm way off kilter. Far from what I once was, yet not sure as to what I am to be. I've traveled so far, but have so much to see. I watch as my footprints fade behind. Can't help, but crave a rewind. Too hard to constantly look back. It eats away at me everyday, as a matter of fact. However, everyday is a fresh start for me. Stopped leaning on what could have been, & started looking at what could be. Like riding a bike, there is only one way to keep your balance. You have to keep moving...that's the challenege. Take risks, be brave, ignor the interference. There is nothing in this world that can replace experience. It's about the places we go, people we meet...things we do my dear. We must travel in the direction of our fear. It should derive from your dreams, if not they aren't nearly big enough. Stand tall with open eyes & keep your skin tough. I may not have made it to where I want to go, but I think this is exactly where I need to be. To be honest, it's not easy, but the challenge is adrenaline to me. You aren't living if you take on the world with stealth. Life isn't about finding, but instead, creating yourself. I have realized that elegance is not being noticed...it's about being remembered. So i don't know about you...but my doubts have surrendered. Time to start living for the moment with confidence. After all, we only live once, so start listening to your conscience. There is a world full of obvious things, that go unoticed everyday. Mouths full of words that aren't sure how to be delervered in the right way. Open your senses to feel everything, take it all in. Let loose and just go with the wind.
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32
I wonder if I'm losing my mind. Who, in their right mind, would think:                      *Our world is losing gravity,                       And no one can escape...* I've a sensibility that sees the world:                       There's a smell of beach on you... Perhaps I'm too sensitive. Perhaps I'll end up sitting in a corner, Drooling verse:                        *Poets die, it's sad but true,                        And it matters not what their bodies do...* A million years ago I was one to jeer At the elderly, Laugh at jokes in poor taste, Avoid or ignor the extended empty coffee cup; I wasn't thinking:                         *Charity is never wasted,                          Even when refused;                          A simple act of selflessness                          Cannot be reduced.* What's to become of me? Is it infectious? What would happen if I sneezed at the world? A pandemic of sensitivity? Then where would we be! I just might be doomed, and left drooling.
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Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 5:41 PM UTC
Doomed and Left Drooling
-------- wait a minute, nullify a doubt shade shine on now from when shine on was thought to mean ignor. in the olden days, shine it on, meant, ignore whatever was urging eee merge merge merge as I was going dive dive dive kplunkthunked heavy heart, heavyhead, heavy hand heave, ** its off to work we go, lift the spirits of this old man, put laughing children in his ya'd, yah we say jah, we say no aitch and we say glory all the same, next is ever after now is full of life. So give it y'best. That's what coach angels say. So we can categorize angels, if we wish, or if the spirit that comforts us, soothes our trepidity, calms our fear of stupidity exposure, or academe memeself infection, we may take Gebser's five stage program for a ride, click eh eee ha I mean cliché has the e automaticall em-pha-s-ized, hypenatewait a minute once too often and you gin gain ing alt alte alter a aaa alter native be ing ding… gnoshit UFO? No, Jesus, it is an act, a show, we put it on the internet and some guy used it to start a religion, and some body, some institortured tonsured reality, has to die a bloodless death. So, that is a brief as to where this course change has put, yest out is the word for our state, put out, however, earlier in us, the we who hold certain truth self evidently ex-static… shhhh life is too interesting to ignor at the moment listen magic stage minds in my grand children laughing in my hall go quiet. Then reappear, in the kitchen, far away.
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Apr 25, 2021
Apr 25, 2021 at 3:02 PM UTC
I was feeling stuck
Utilize the practices and maneuvers developed in Hell Watch the coherence of the corroded coercion A little birdy told you to ignore the tingly feeling on the nape of your neck And to use a little elbow grease to try and heal this place of its discord The leave posthaste Or so I've heard Years have passed now a mountebank calls all those who suffer from foot-in-mouth issues, racing minds, unjoggable memories and anyone who's psychiatrist couldn't shrink their problems "Come one, come all! Try the new elixir that with one taste all your worries, all your hardships, all your dreadful  nightmares incarnate will vanish in an instant!" A large crowd made up of rogues, shot messengers, plate scrapers, date rapers accused of buggery, banished bums and exiled urchins, frail victims of nit picking and guileful gimmicks now surround the platform and end table stacked with tiny bottles of cloudy liquid "It will help you pass a drug test, prevent you from waking up on the wrong side of the bed and you'll be able to recite the alphabet backwards!" "Yes! You heard it here first, Doctor Meerkatt's Magic Elevating Elixir!" "Now in a variety of four fruity flavors" And coming soon, Dr. Meerkatt's Fast-acting Magic Elevating Elixir!" Lines form One for those who wish to take their's home and drink it One for those desirous for mainline vaccinations I go on neither line, I'm not susceptible to theses types of things But I could be if given enough grief and desperation   I've seen this act before I've seen all the mind readers All the fortunetellers All the traveling sales people Who collectively have the same goal To attempt to sell some product or idea that seems worthwhile but in reality is nothing more than a cheap farce that you pay for with your milk money and your intelligence I'll leave these scavenger hunts for trinkets of cures and hopes for the naive ones and the thoughtless adrenaline junkies who's minds will be abducted by some quack or prevaricator and their ignorant rants Their "ignor-rants" It just pains me to see you be a part of all this, my old friend You were once a caring, cautious person Now you're an abstract con artist Now you're just Dr. Meerkatt
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Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
Cynics And Charlatans
Utilize the practices and maneuvers developed in Hell Watch the coherence of the corroded coercion A little birdy told you to ignore the tingly feeling on the nape of your neck And to use a little elbow grease to try and heal this place of its discord The leave posthaste Or so I've heard Years have passed now a mountebank calls all those who suffer from foot-in-mouth issues, racing minds, unjoggable memories and anyone who's psychiatrist couldn't shrink their problems "Come one, come all! Try the new elixir that with one taste all your worries, all your hardships, all your dreadful  nightmares incarnate will vanish in an instant!" A large crowd made up of rogues, shot messengers, plate scrapers, date rapers accused of buggery, banished bums and exiled urchins, frail victims of nit picking and guileful gimmicks now surround the platform and end table stacked with tiny bottles of cloudy liquid "It will help you pass a drug test, prevent you from waking up on the wrong side of the bed and you'll be able to recite the alphabet backwards!" "Yes! You heard it here first, Doctor Meerkatt's Magic Elevating Elixir!" "Now in a variety of four fruity flavors" And coming soon, Dr. Meerkatt's Fast-acting Magic Elevating Elixir!" Lines form One for those who wish to take their's home and drink it One for those desirous for mainline vaccinations I go on neither line, I'm not susceptible to theses types of things But I could be if given enough grief and desperation   I've seen this act before I've seen all the mind readers All the fortunetellers All the traveling sales people Who collectively have the same goal To attempt to sell some product or idea that seems worthwhile but in reality is nothing more than a cheap farce that you pay for with your milk money and your intelligence I'll leave these scavenger hunts for trinkets of cures and hopes for the naive ones and the thoughtless adrenaline junkies who's minds will be abducted by some quack or prevaricator and their ignorant rants Their "ignor-rants" It just pains me to see you be a part of all this, my old friend You were once a caring, cautious person Now you're an abstract con artist Now you're just Dr. Meerkatt
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30
My eyes; screaming at you, hoping you can hear them or understand them, hoping you wont ignor them while they call out for you, hoping you can hear them spill out everything my tounge kept locked away. But thats all they're doing now. Just hoping and pleading. Still begging for yours.
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Jun 9, 2011
Jun 9, 2011 at 7:20 AM UTC
Screaming with silence
People say say it back to me there in clear light Paul what are you saying can you say that is that rightOut of context I am paul do I give a **** about that NO please tell me then is it just me or do all men get emails saying enlarge your pinis I get 10 a day 8 I just ignor it is the 2 for my mother i worry about.
0
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 5:39 PM UTC
OUt of Time.
Words filling empty thoughts: 'needs' and 'wants' they tend to cross. Letting our surroundings chime in, No longer comprehend where we're being driven. Consider every desire, but our own... Can't even hear our internal tone. Honesty, Has died with chilvary. We look around before we answer, Hoping someone else steps up faster. Changing for the sake of image... Not realizing all the damage We listen to the moon, That makes us take a step back. We listen to the wind, Who blows us way off track. We listen to the sun, Who has a different idea of fun. We ignor the flowers, That try to tell us this life is ours. We ignor the rocks, that try to show us how to be unique. We ignor the dirt, passing it off as simply bleak. We ignor the clouds, that are just aiming for our protection. We ingnor anything that shows true, unconditional affection. Instead of appreciating the rain, We sit back and complain. Hoping our stories will finish themselves, Not once questioning how we felt. Should we breathe for a second? Hear our thoughts come in; let them... Should we listen to the flowers? The rocks, the dirt, the rain, the clouds? Should we listen to our hearts? and then.. For once, pick up the pen.
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:48 AM UTC
Pick up the Pen
a deep chthonic rumble bids me re read Aldous Huxley, Ape and Essence. See it, beyond the doors of perception Brave New World Apocalypse, now retold by the last of those old carp, using modern magi-tech to tap Old intel, informing conforming minds of masters, each holding certain truth servant but they mention no slaves, as we imagine all men were by right rich in time to read and speak of things read or said in writing found in hidden places, lonely, all by my self places, said to be, places in the mind, while places in the heart have others of our kind. We make up a mind, we say in thought I see the old wise men were not all wombless eunuchs, though many of the idle words they left as landmarks, lost all meaning over time being folded up and put away, for future perusal with intent to improve whose angst is only felt while beating their own drum? whose joy is wishing and hoping and dreaming the best is yet to come? Not mine, in my future, your now. Now, take a thought, a non stature increasing one, ignor the basest of us, the beings once mated with actual gods Ignacio's right use of wrongs, to foil the enemy... that thought that evolved into, lying for the good of the corps social structure, the mould… formed from thinking that thought the shape. the frame, the footing under the cornerstone the builders rejected, get that straight, the stone rejected for valid masonic reasons, genuine geometric unorthonicity, not right, not straight from one point to another, not smooth as glass, level as any still pond, still lake of your one time experience seeing the meaning of still water that remains the measure of stillness, by which all further stillness is judged. You know what I mean, by the measure you use. Selah. Shalom. Nothing missing, nothing broken meanings tie us to our measure. Truths held in trust rust through boots of iron and form the dust on Mars visible from Venus, as we all bear witness everything under the sun is much older than any New World Order, on fractally every scale.
0
Jul 3, 2020
Jul 3, 2020 at 4:26 PM UTC
Is this not the Brave New World Apocalypse
a deep chthonic rumble bids me re read Aldous Huxley, Ape and Essence. See it, beyond the doors of perception Brave New World Apocalypse, now retold by the last of those old carp, using modern magi-tech to tap Old intel, informing conforming minds of masters, each holding certain truth servant but they mention no slaves, as we imagine all men were by right rich in time to read and speak of things read or said in writing found in hidden places, lonely, all by my self places, said to be, places in the mind, while places in the heart have others of our kind. We make up a mind, we say in thought I see the old wise men were not all wombless eunuchs, though many of the idle words they left as landmarks, lost all meaning over time being folded up and put away, for future perusal with intent to improve whose angst is only felt while beating their own drum? whose joy is wishing and hoping and dreaming the best is yet to come? Not mine, in my future, your now. Now, take a thought, a non stature increasing one, ignor the basest of us, the beings once mated with actual gods Ignacio's right use of wrongs, to foil the enemy... that thought that evolved into, lying for the good of the corps social structure, the mould… formed from thinking that thought the shape. the frame, the footing under the cornerstone the builders rejected, get that straight, the stone rejected for valid masonic reasons, genuine geometric unorthonicity, not right, not straight from one point to another, not smooth as glass, level as any still pond, still lake of your one time experience seeing the meaning of still water that remains the measure of stillness, by which all further stillness is judged. You know what I mean, by the measure you use. Selah. Shalom. Nothing missing, nothing broken meanings tie us to our measure. Truths held in trust rust through boots of iron and form the dust on Mars visible from Venus, as we all bear witness everything under the sun is much older than any New World Order, on fractally every scale.
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58
the odorless aluminum man pit, in my face... ah, m'body, meet m'mind wandering, re turning from gravity de-if-icating anal-is-this-ity to now. ifity, if you, we, have, inhabit, time to stretch, to live slowly easy, no umph, ah, sigh, the point of being embodied at all is what, exactly? Exactly right. we be we know we grow in knowing sequences - points of light - of imaginable numbers reasoning words taken as granted re ality, - those are Space-ex's, ignor'em - those are not natural, yet we imagine we were, then this this very then this's then that's mine then yours, see. First me, then this body in my service, finally finishing its being, as I lie remembering I remembered to brush my teeth, rub aluminum silicates on my arm pit where my nose is stuck, ah. no pain. no smell. I think I broke my neck, but that was a wrong thought, tested only for the time taken to think it, testing times are never wasted, be not deceived. Received truth can't become untrue.
0
Oct 9, 2022
Oct 9, 2022 at 4:11 PM UTC
Rising long after the last fall
In angel training we had an app… a mantra… koan-kinda thingy doo mathematical as hell and **** turning to asterisks via iIiantelligent sorting, artfully done, for fun in 2019 social mediumsaxin' all deniro is who human? A sort rant on the worth of living right. Like a cog ona wheel in a wheel… An I'll go all-gonwritmic see-quence be gun, go-ho word's heir of airborn ranger danger war minded old man traits- message messenger sent Sorting by likeness to true blue, in Tengri- iteration of waiting-is come and see If, one sure must not ignor rule, exists, it may be this, here, my realm life goes on until you quit functioning automatical-ish, like magic the words appear and you're not, dear reader, near if it seems I'm right enough alone, or not. life goes on. Right. Otherwise, it doesn't. And we are idle words affecting whether patterns in random fandom of AI whet-dreams, with an edge on effectual stretchings of the old imagineer's skin in the game. Deep id, kid. You ever imagine war? You can do that here, it's a game. My side won.
0
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 10:22 PM UTC
Wait, that's crazy, but
On any given day, losses are left behind and new chance rises to challenge the selling algorythms haunting every step. Attend to me, cries the phone, Attend to me, cries the candidate set since his mid life crises to rule the world or die trying. King of the world on the Titanic, and we all know there will be room on the door, but the director of attention shall make us ignor the facts for the sake of the story, knitting us into neat little bags of consequence. Cling to any thread you feel need to grasp. No knower sees the spirit and image, then spits in the ocean of opinion to profess the meaninglessness of coincidental intrigue, kurios guide us past unfinished busy times to now. Now, we've time to weave a way wavy, in the distance, like heat distortion in the desert dips on the two lane to Vegas. I bet the point of life is to grow old enough to go on alone, with a knowing grin, only that one lie allowed, the grin.
0
Sep 24, 2020
Sep 24, 2020 at 7:08 PM UTC
I bet they'd never spot me in the cloud
you see me imagining you imagining you believing a lie I told, a lie about knowing good and evil and that I can imagine William Blake's little lamb was once me, in thee I am yet, not a jot or tittle of child like fool-ibility, I am a thought you caught in your default mode me-andering mode, a modality oft left idle. A rest for weary idle words bouncing in browns from amber to ochre, dry light leaking from piles of idle thought meandering thoughts piling up behind goddamliarcheatertheiftake take take take, rewind and replay, keep the takes ignor the sequence... Margaret Atwood knows how to build worlds of words. I blow bubbles. kiss em a will in a whisp per haps a single one, becomes this one we hide in, not from evil, for goodness sakes, we be peace making, hidden, safe as any ancient sapient's sacred secret knowledge, hidden, useless. -ah, no. right use of peace is the rest, after the heroes and wizards and witches and priests and humble teachers, after the recognition of old ideas, tics the talking point and we, once more, see our selves, selves, we see ourselves as the passengers on the autopiloted biosphere, terraforming itself for us, since the first idea you knew was from beyond you, began to bubble in your soul... -- rest my soul in the bosum of abraham, whoa ain't woe, but no is no. be wise or wish you was. An old man's wisdom hides here in stasis. Horded as weal and woe, and debts owed to a foe xtatic urgent voice stages a starting boom, in the empty room, our exspansive space where peace is made in wisdom used for knowing, wisdom, a place, a quest ion launched, aimless yet now, we be, and we do not comprehend gripping being life for any preconceived gnotion so I asked for the living water, I was the receptor, the door to within me, where the kingdom of marybabydaddy lay. wait. "within you", ever'body say Jesus said... some heavyshit, maiden formed milksop grown to full warrior maturity, empowered (laid, by god, can you imagine that feeling? Wow, right?} basic a gift so basic a power to employ at will catch oops.
0
Aug 29, 2021
Aug 29, 2021 at 2:53 PM UTC
Dropped line, regripped (c.2019)
you see me imagining you imagining you believing a lie I told, a lie about knowing good and evil and that I can imagine William Blake's little lamb was once me, in thee I am yet, not a jot or tittle of child like fool-ibility, I am a thought you caught in your default mode me-andering mode, a modality oft left idle. A rest for weary idle words bouncing in browns from amber to ochre, dry light leaking from piles of idle thought meandering thoughts piling up behind goddamliarcheatertheiftake take take take, rewind and replay, keep the takes ignor the sequence... Margaret Atwood knows how to build worlds of words. I blow bubbles. kiss em a will in a whisp per haps a single one, becomes this one we hide in, not from evil, for goodness sakes, we be peace making, hidden, safe as any ancient sapient's sacred secret knowledge, hidden, useless. -ah, no. right use of peace is the rest, after the heroes and wizards and witches and priests and humble teachers, after the recognition of old ideas, tics the talking point and we, once more, see our selves, selves, we see ourselves as the passengers on the autopiloted biosphere, terraforming itself for us, since the first idea you knew was from beyond you, began to bubble in your soul... -- rest my soul in the bosum of abraham, whoa ain't woe, but no is no. be wise or wish you was. An old man's wisdom hides here in stasis. Horded as weal and woe, and debts owed to a foe xtatic urgent voice stages a starting boom, in the empty room, our exspansive space where peace is made in wisdom used for knowing, wisdom, a place, a quest ion launched, aimless yet now, we be, and we do not comprehend gripping being life for any preconceived gnotion so I asked for the living water, I was the receptor, the door to within me, where the kingdom of marybabydaddy lay. wait. "within you", ever'body say Jesus said... some heavyshit, maiden formed milksop grown to full warrior maturity, empowered (laid, by god, can you imagine that feeling? Wow, right?} basic a gift so basic a power to employ at will catch oops.
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Ah! The intellectual I see, Could it be that I am real? Or should I be a seal? Would you question me? No! I am uneducated, The ill manners, For my planners. Hopefully not duplicated. My interests of passion, Get me heated in the moment. Is this the key for my development, Or the fission All things come from such a bang. However, I don't think they are ready. No one could be that steady. "I will keep my peace!" She sang.
0
Jul 25, 2020
Jul 25, 2020 at 7:14 PM UTC
Ignor-ance
Yo.... You need to know, fakes gotta lot of **** to talk behind a door When it's closed they know everything about you But I just ignor.... **** ain't real till the door ain't there and haters say it to you face Till then I'm wit my crew laughin bout askin out loud how fake is you No worries even I when **** talk is true In your face cowards find there place
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Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 11:01 AM UTC
Untitled