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"ignoramus" poems
I am stupid And naive To think this would be easy. I am stupid And naive To believe it would be served On a silver platter. I am a complete and utter ignoramus.
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Sep 29, 2019
Sep 29, 2019 at 2:25 PM UTC
I am stupid
What if they had a War and nobody came ! my sentiment all along Actions so transparent and telegraphed a mile long absurd anchoring, even more absurd triggering so absurd as to be meaningless the hotchpotch logic of simpletons on acid The banal manifestations of the anodyne retards with advanced hysteria Think unruly kids on Colombian marching powder think advanced psychosis with total stage ten delusions Watch mass hysteria contagion Logic was never there, rationality bolted beating Usain Bolt Inveterate liars and fantasists now control maddened throngs Oh dear! they decided I am madly in love with acquaintance neither I or poor acquaintance know this But let not the truth get in the way of a soap opera by the insanes After All meaningless triggers and Delusionary prompts keep the sheeples busy in People's Power utopia They are all having a war, nobody has told me about it I don't understand their language yet they are very eloquent Deep in their imagined Neuro-linguistic Programming or mental pygmies playing Pavlov Dog theory of the semi-illiterates   I just realized why cancer is prevalent amongst them They carry so much poison and emotional ******* in their beings It pollutes and eat away at them internally, they get cancer! Never have been interested in little minds and liars and thieves Have little time for dumb people, the toxics and the sheeples What makes cretins think I take anything of theirs to mind what can I learn or gain from contemptibles I don't feel inferior so why would I want to learn how to slander and defame others to bring them down 'Slander is the GREAT LEVELLER voiced one of them poor inadequate soul, poor pathetic degenerate I look twenty years younger than my years, no wrinkles Just slightly greying, mind as sharp as razor Because I don't carry acidic ******* hate or foul nonsense in my head, Because my mind is full of worthy knowledge because I am not an ignoramus with attitude because I am not a shameless coward or an empty headed nonentity Because I am not amongst the madding crowd I am not an insignificant pointless HATER with cancer in waiting! I am NOT a SHAMELESS RACIST white THIEF discrediting the Victim I STOLE from OR an OBNOXIOUS gang of SOCIALIST crazed subhumans cancerized by jealousy and envy
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Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 4:47 PM UTC
Advance C. Macafartty Soldiers
What if they had a War and nobody came ! my sentiment all along Actions so transparent and telegraphed a mile long absurd anchoring, even more absurd triggering so absurd as to be meaningless the hotchpotch logic of simpletons on acid The banal manifestations of the anodyne retards with advanced hysteria Think unruly kids on Colombian marching powder think advanced psychosis with total stage ten delusions Watch mass hysteria contagion Logic was never there, rationality bolted beating Usain Bolt Inveterate liars and fantasists now control maddened throngs Oh dear! they decided I am madly in love with acquaintance neither I or poor acquaintance know this But let not the truth get in the way of a soap opera by the insanes After All meaningless triggers and Delusionary prompts keep the sheeples busy in People's Power utopia They are all having a war, nobody has told me about it I don't understand their language yet they are very eloquent Deep in their imagined Neuro-linguistic Programming or mental pygmies playing Pavlov Dog theory of the semi-illiterates   I just realized why cancer is prevalent amongst them They carry so much poison and emotional ******* in their beings It pollutes and eat away at them internally, they get cancer! Never have been interested in little minds and liars and thieves Have little time for dumb people, the toxics and the sheeples What makes cretins think I take anything of theirs to mind what can I learn or gain from contemptibles I don't feel inferior so why would I want to learn how to slander and defame others to bring them down 'Slander is the GREAT LEVELLER voiced one of them poor inadequate soul, poor pathetic degenerate I look twenty years younger than my years, no wrinkles Just slightly greying, mind as sharp as razor Because I don't carry acidic ******* hate or foul nonsense in my head, Because my mind is full of worthy knowledge because I am not an ignoramus with attitude because I am not a shameless coward or an empty headed nonentity Because I am not amongst the madding crowd I am not an insignificant pointless HATER with cancer in waiting! I am NOT a SHAMELESS RACIST white THIEF discrediting the Victim I STOLE from OR an OBNOXIOUS gang of SOCIALIST crazed subhumans cancerized by jealousy and envy
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45
Johnny wants to be a soldier. Johnny had a ******* Johnny now is Jenny and The Donald says it's wrong. Jenny loves her country and she wants to serve and fight. Trump says she's not worthy and no longer has the right. Susie was born as a girl but knew she was a guy. Susie now is Sammy and he only wants to fly. Went to join the Air Force - Was rejected on the spot. Knew that he was qualified, but Trump says that he's not. Trump was born an ignoramus - still is one today. Never served the military - always got his way. If you're not the same as him you are the enemy. You're not worthy if you're poor or a minority. Started with transgendered, better watch out if you're gay. Blacks, Hispanics, women, he would love to throw away. When nobody's left the military will be grim. Trump will have nobody left who wants to fight for him. If you're an American and if you long to serve, better not be different or they'll label you a perv. If you say you're boy or girl and ready for your chance, all that matters now is the equipment in your pants!
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Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 7:40 PM UTC
Transgendered Privates
Light-years north of the purple, zephyr dome. The saccharine amulet is like euphoria Buried below the wet soil of Utopian plains, An aura born of  visual brilliance like the aurora borealis Is this the homely orphanage for poetic spirits and souls? The intuitive life- forms worthy of sempiternal light? Tyrant Ignoramus's army is multiplying, And assembling more power, Lascivious like an extreme ********** Certainty of survival? No, there is not, Nervous like claustrophobic Nibbana. Life-forces forced to test The stability of the precipice. Can balance be maintained? Only for so long.... Loping for miles, Exhausting it must be, Their hooves must go on and on, Heedless of stopping. Past Ignoramus's Fortress, Past the Alchemist's Bridge over yonder, Light-years north of the purple, zephyr dome. The saccharine amulet is like euphoria Buried below the wet soil of the Utopian plains, An aura born of visual brilliance like the aurora borealis. This is the homely orphanage for poetic spirits and souls, The intuitive life-forms worthy of sempiternal light. Originally written 7/30/11 Revised 10/17/14 (c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith
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Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 2:44 PM UTC
Endangered Species
Let me frame this aimless persuasion to flame me right til the day I’m famous Ignoramus, who is brainless, will be met with a death that’s painless while the critics statistics are met with verbal ballistics that due to rapid linguistics make her go “that man’s **** Undiscovered emanation of a wave across the nation will by false- hoods deci mation prove that you can’t best me
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Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 8:03 PM UTC
Verbal Ballistics
Saintly cassock, Glittering altar Ornamental pulpit.               Driving the congregants             in a paroxysm of fib, Gullibility enshrines adherents             hearts. Do you know the Messiah more             than the apostles ? Thou traders in the temple. Parrotic tongues set out             commands Loquacious sweet-coated mouths             misdirects faithfuls. But the uncreated Creator who             creates creatures watches Dreadful silence astonishingly             permeates the entireness            of the universe. Do you preach love? Do you follow peace with all? Ye robbers in the temple. Command darkness to produce             light. But you turned moonlight into             tale. Can you display Davidic dance             steps on the road? Profanity of sanctuary with             false homiletics. Merchants of dross in tabernacle Speak. Let us hear you. Preach To the congregants. Righteousness afar from the           apron of faith. Charity locked up in the           tunic of hope. Sanctity of holiness sprinkled           into the tributary of sin. Commanding the stars to turn            to sun, Captains of night in light. Ye robbers in the sanctuary. Pastoral advertisers of chattels            in the tabernacle, Merchandising gold dross in             sermonic hymns. Sugar-coated doctrine wept in              the tomb of Lazarus. Prompting Him to weep again? Ye merchants in synagogue. Disentangle faithfuls from the           webs of worriment. Dislodge congregants out of the           shackles of sin. Deliver ignoramus from the            isle of incendiary. Let the sifter of strength            separate out afflictions from            feebleminded faithfuls. Ye robbers in the temple You love prayers more than God But who answers prayers?
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Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 3:45 AM UTC
MERCHANTS IN THE TEMPLE
Saintly cassock, Glittering altar Ornamental pulpit.               Driving the congregants             in a paroxysm of fib, Gullibility enshrines adherents             hearts. Do you know the Messiah more             than the apostles ? Thou traders in the temple. Parrotic tongues set out             commands Loquacious sweet-coated mouths             misdirects faithfuls. But the uncreated Creator who             creates creatures watches Dreadful silence astonishingly             permeates the entireness            of the universe. Do you preach love? Do you follow peace with all? Ye robbers in the temple. Command darkness to produce             light. But you turned moonlight into             tale. Can you display Davidic dance             steps on the road? Profanity of sanctuary with             false homiletics. Merchants of dross in tabernacle Speak. Let us hear you. Preach To the congregants. Righteousness afar from the           apron of faith. Charity locked up in the           tunic of hope. Sanctity of holiness sprinkled           into the tributary of sin. Commanding the stars to turn            to sun, Captains of night in light. Ye robbers in the sanctuary. Pastoral advertisers of chattels            in the tabernacle, Merchandising gold dross in             sermonic hymns. Sugar-coated doctrine wept in              the tomb of Lazarus. Prompting Him to weep again? Ye merchants in synagogue. Disentangle faithfuls from the           webs of worriment. Dislodge congregants out of the           shackles of sin. Deliver ignoramus from the            isle of incendiary. Let the sifter of strength            separate out afflictions from            feebleminded faithfuls. Ye robbers in the temple You love prayers more than God But who answers prayers?
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65
*I hanker myself to find illumination within myself. The more  I  explore, the more  I confront the ineluctable iniquity. Being cognizant of my enmity, I wish to be ignoramus of myself.*
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Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 1:12 PM UTC
........ cognizance of me......
Love is a phenomenon Not dissimilar to gravity Like an ignoramus The stoic heart denies it Until it falls.
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Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 4:14 PM UTC
Gravity
summertime sadness curtains pulled tightly, thick lashes american spirit fading into mechanics people moving with faces hot as the embers the ashes dropping from my cancer stick, citizens told to embrace their pride and freedom how can I join them when I don't need them? patriots, ignoramus culture dreaming with eyes clamored shut, little emotion zombie status, a rose-colored illusion i plant the astilbe in the *** dianthus, echinacea fighting words never said, nor thought watering cans filled with poison, over easy the banging on the gate is loud and *****
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Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
I
Reality tv feeding the idiocracy It's no secret my idiosyncrasy is increasing ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Parallel to my ever elevating feel of paranoia I have a sympathy insufficiency I demand more catastrophe It's a ******* conspiracy! I blame the aliens Harvesting our brains We are the sheep Home on the range Chalk it up for each and every mindless chucklefuck More concerned with dynasty ducks Distractions and false flags You are my demise Scourge of Mother Earth ?sdrawkcab evlover dlrow eht seod yhW Such staunch contempt for the human race Object of my fascination Thou wilt bow to my conquest Lo, hear my battle cry; Oh how I vie, to assassinate all asinine swine!
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Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
Ignoramus
anger unabated as sinful "humanity" sows karmic seeds of self destruction the future visceral in the present
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Oct 3, 2016
Oct 3, 2016 at 6:56 AM UTC
**** Sapien Ignoramus
Some moments a thought comes - It’s so much easier just to give up. So comfy a feeling to visualize nothing but blank-nothing – Not to be. Not to think or feel or breathe. No pressure to present a concocted identity one can’t even see that’s not at all me. No stress keeping abreast of every snippet of someone else’s reality. No figuring or wondering or worrying or plans. Nothing to hope for or hate or to signify or demand. No side-eyes screaming "how weird". No stink-eyes looking to strike. No evil intentions peering behind some ignoramus’s unbelievable disguise. No more fake smiles and rhetorical "how are you's". No more seeing wrong numbers and choosing them too. Absent anxiety and anger and acrid, stone-cold fear. Absent color. Absent pattern. Without texture or taste. No feeling a thing like the aching of pain. Some moments a thought comes - Just end this silly race sooner. Why stick around any longer perceiving the same old, unpolished, frayed and slightly greyed images on a disappearing, silky screen, when there is glorious and unending nothing awaiting this little, tiny insignificant me.
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Jan 22, 2022
Jan 22, 2022 at 9:25 PM UTC
momentous ideation
Heavy clouds hang over me. Condensing blood to my feet. Unable to move faster than cement blocks decay. Always three steps behind, never able to walk side by side. Just close enough to be in your shadow. Ignoramus decisions and moments of nonsensical muttering run through my mind. I see those blank stares. I am the fall from there rise. My feet almost ready to burst and send me to another world, A place between time and space itself, a place of nothing. The splatters and explosion of red bellow blind me. I feel that last moment  of pressure, And I release myself.
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Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC
Release the Anger
A man was elected with no view on the most controversial issue. Ignoramus within the southern states believed This man to be a danger to their lifestyle and their Wanted rights. One by one, they became their own. One fort, Sumter, became a commonplace for Controversy. Belonging to the north, within the Newly founded Confederate States, the fort was tossed back and forth in a game of table tennis. A threat of war hovered above their heads, but supplies were sent. No weapons. No orders to attack. Complete neutrality. The attack came from an impatient general Beauregard, Who ordered his men to open fire, In a hope to force evacuation and surrender. It worked. And all hell broke loose.
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Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
Brother Against Brother (war)
Beginning to remember How it had just started Now it's gone I was gone for two weeks And the river is now frozen It was an inchoate group Laying the bricks One by one But they departed so soon Like the ignoramus men on the sidewalks Herding like sheep to make a living Like some old fat lady sitting by her children With a half filled cup of happiness Afraid of losing herself Like those water drops on cold winter mornings Forcing life to stay torpid Pragmatism collapsed into my veins and I heard the cat door slam and immediately looked at the clock It was dead
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Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 4:01 AM UTC
Fade
Accompany the good always, Free thyself from alluring delusion, Tide over the turbulence of mind, And seek liberation of Soul. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ……9 Whither bound kin so keen, When wealth is withered out? Whither paled out lust and lucre, When youth is lost in transit? Akin to drained out pond on land. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….10 Behold the fugitive wheel of world, Of lustrous wealth and wishes to seek. Bereft you are to be, as time swipes off, All ephemeral illusions in its course. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….11 Dawn n’ dusk make day n’ night, Spring and winter take their turn, Time plays the game of ebb n’ tide, Yet, ignoramus hugs the storm of desires. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….12 None can save the rotten humdrum of life, Save the sane and wise who guide n’ ferry, Like a rescue boat in stormy ocean, Of life revolving in birth and death. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….13 Be it an ascetic of ochre robes, Or one in tucked from tie to toe, Always strives only to fill his belly, Thoughtless to the truth behind. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….14 Upper age freezing the warmth of life, Unheeding head heading bald n’ grey, Sickly face ******* toothless smiles, Yet the soul clings to the pangs of life. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….15 Enslaved by the ire n’ desire, Even in uneven evening of life, Posthumous, none to carry or care, Yet, one is passionate to the core. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….16
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Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 5:00 AM UTC
Ponder beyond ( part 2 of 4)
Accompany the good always, Free thyself from alluring delusion, Tide over the turbulence of mind, And seek liberation of Soul. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ……9 Whither bound kin so keen, When wealth is withered out? Whither paled out lust and lucre, When youth is lost in transit? Akin to drained out pond on land. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….10 Behold the fugitive wheel of world, Of lustrous wealth and wishes to seek. Bereft you are to be, as time swipes off, All ephemeral illusions in its course. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….11 Dawn n’ dusk make day n’ night, Spring and winter take their turn, Time plays the game of ebb n’ tide, Yet, ignoramus hugs the storm of desires. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….12 None can save the rotten humdrum of life, Save the sane and wise who guide n’ ferry, Like a rescue boat in stormy ocean, Of life revolving in birth and death. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….13 Be it an ascetic of ochre robes, Or one in tucked from tie to toe, Always strives only to fill his belly, Thoughtless to the truth behind. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….14 Upper age freezing the warmth of life, Unheeding head heading bald n’ grey, Sickly face ******* toothless smiles, Yet the soul clings to the pangs of life. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….15 Enslaved by the ire n’ desire, Even in uneven evening of life, Posthumous, none to carry or care, Yet, one is passionate to the core. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….16
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41
What in your life could be so difficult that you confide in keyboards when surrounded by voices your adult nature in a malnourished body is the culprit perhaps negligee that neglects curves your synapses are not firing can you not get the message to your brain your oxygen starved brain so you breathe more quickly and in turn produce tears you’re not happy unless you don’t see him but are still melancholy and exaggerate this is getting monotonous as we sit at round tables and discuss your behavior you lone hairless baby shush your sickly sweet sniffles
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Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 11:16 PM UTC
ignoramus.
Venus Ramey Murphy,         (September 26, 1924 – June 17, 2017) American beauty pageant contestant & activist;  Venus won the Miss America competition in Atlantic City, New Jersey  |      |      |      |                            on September 9, 1944; Born in Ashland, Kentucky, Venus left Kentucky to work for the war effort in Washington, DC, & there won the Miss District of Columbia pageant, & then onto      Miss America in 1944;                                     Venus Ramey was the first Miss America to be photographed in color &    the first red-haired to win the title I started listening to AM Christian radio b/c it's funny; but on one side of the dial is Rush Limbaugh & on the other is Pravda in Russian; a little further up the dial, I can hear the latest on the record number of undocumented transgenders running for public office; I never thought I'd miss dumb blondes & ****** but happily married gay couples are the reason a bloviating ignoramus like Limbaugh is on the radio in the first place;                              |                                                                                [I'm not the sort to gawk at penises,   but even that would be a marked improvement over watching Rush Limbaugh] | [I don't watch Christian TV  b/c it's too calculatedly stupid, as if anyone still believed in backwoods hucksterism] or the visible, risible conundrum of an over-the-hill beauty queen;   what does one do after being crowned one of the most beautiful women on earth; Jesus, **** or homosexuality [        ]
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Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 3:38 PM UTC
Miss America 1944
Venus Ramey Murphy,         (September 26, 1924 – June 17, 2017) American beauty pageant contestant & activist;  Venus won the Miss America competition in Atlantic City, New Jersey  |      |      |      |                            on September 9, 1944; Born in Ashland, Kentucky, Venus left Kentucky to work for the war effort in Washington, DC, & there won the Miss District of Columbia pageant, & then onto      Miss America in 1944;                                     Venus Ramey was the first Miss America to be photographed in color &    the first red-haired to win the title I started listening to AM Christian radio b/c it's funny; but on one side of the dial is Rush Limbaugh & on the other is Pravda in Russian; a little further up the dial, I can hear the latest on the record number of undocumented transgenders running for public office; I never thought I'd miss dumb blondes & ****** but happily married gay couples are the reason a bloviating ignoramus like Limbaugh is on the radio in the first place;                              |                                                                                [I'm not the sort to gawk at penises,   but even that would be a marked improvement over watching Rush Limbaugh] | [I don't watch Christian TV  b/c it's too calculatedly stupid, as if anyone still believed in backwoods hucksterism] or the visible, risible conundrum of an over-the-hill beauty queen;   what does one do after being crowned one of the most beautiful women on earth; Jesus, **** or homosexuality [        ]
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43
I live in a hole, but, I'm not a hobbit, I am whole, complete construction of DNA, a being, a mixture of parts, a mixed mash, of colourful art, I have charms, they're buried far in the reaches of my eyes, and, at the end of my arms, in the land where no-one lives but me, I work in care, as care I do, I earn, but I still  just exist, in my hole, maybe my whole, not even a half, or a quarter, not the devil's daughter, ever, not never, never in a million years this non hobbit woman, is not an American, in my case, it's England, that is the land of the free, free speech, that's a laugh, free standing, a  lamp or a politician, full of ignoramus blues, all left over remnants, from yesterday's news. (C) Livvi
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May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC
DNA from England!
You don't like love You just know time is a tickin' Life is a bomb, and the heart is the victim Eyes big with ambition And wanting bad ******* becomes The way you feel free, but it's krypted It's a trap for those who are less gifted The ignoramus who your teachers depicted As the ones You don't wanna become You waste your day away the way you make Your world say ****** words about your being Striving to be the "spice" of the night But you didn't think twice Stuck your tongue in a vice And it bit you with the venom Now you're scarred up for life In the mind there are things like, Demons you shouldn't expose to light Look beyond the little temporary pleasures Find what's left in life for your face to elate to Long live the bad ******* you didn't need They gonna find the right man, indeed Tell them mazel tov, and tell yourself There's plenty people for me And keep swimming, indefinitely You're  a lost soul half stepping The pain of the game got you trippin Thought the head was whatever That place was good, but this is better Smile and shake a new hand for the change Reaching happiness inside, you're not far from range. Don't trend like the words a poet site Strive for success and live life right Not taking no for an answer Lift the sagging pants up And walk with dignity into your dream
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Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 4:45 AM UTC
You are now Trending
The gated gap between us--built of miles and time zones-- Made you oblivious; so certain that you'd be blind to my wounds. You cherished every rolling hill and stretching road that kept you alone, But hills were climbed and roads traversed so you'd be consumed! I'd nearly died so many times--my own hand my fated doom-- But you'd built your walls to lock me out, and barred away my cries. Well, old man, now's the time to see you've only built yourself a tomb, And that, while my words live on, it shall be your arrogance that dies. Ignorant, old condescending fool; a rotting sack of wasted promise, I've built my throne from the bones of the soldiers you've sent-- Your heinous words, you ignoramus **** are a hymn to my success-- And I'm ready to break your spine (since your soul's already bent)! Tell me now about your paints while I scribble with your blood! Come now, dear father, come bask in your flood! I'll open veins above you and reign with a rain of ink! You think I'd be just like you? Here comes another think! I'm twice the man with four times the wit; All the grit without an ounce of **** Let me slit my throat on quill-pen tip, And watch you choke upon my quip. Your ***** are tethered to a weathered brick of bitter remorse, While I conduct a mantra diction of contradicted course. I won't say you're dead to me; you're worth much more intact. While there's many who can fit the mold, you help me construct losers-- The fodder I write just to slaughter; I've killed you frequently, in fact-- So when I need a worthless sack of **** you're the one I choose, sir! So thanks for that, you beatnik **** I'll **** it on your epitaph! And I'll do it all for free! This ain't a vindictive son bellowing slander just for grandeur, no sir! This is an oath to an old oaf that, though I can't remember your voice, You WILL remember me!
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 3:42 PM UTC
You WILL Remember Me!
The gated gap between us--built of miles and time zones-- Made you oblivious; so certain that you'd be blind to my wounds. You cherished every rolling hill and stretching road that kept you alone, But hills were climbed and roads traversed so you'd be consumed! I'd nearly died so many times--my own hand my fated doom-- But you'd built your walls to lock me out, and barred away my cries. Well, old man, now's the time to see you've only built yourself a tomb, And that, while my words live on, it shall be your arrogance that dies. Ignorant, old condescending fool; a rotting sack of wasted promise, I've built my throne from the bones of the soldiers you've sent-- Your heinous words, you ignoramus **** are a hymn to my success-- And I'm ready to break your spine (since your soul's already bent)! Tell me now about your paints while I scribble with your blood! Come now, dear father, come bask in your flood! I'll open veins above you and reign with a rain of ink! You think I'd be just like you? Here comes another think! I'm twice the man with four times the wit; All the grit without an ounce of **** Let me slit my throat on quill-pen tip, And watch you choke upon my quip. Your ***** are tethered to a weathered brick of bitter remorse, While I conduct a mantra diction of contradicted course. I won't say you're dead to me; you're worth much more intact. While there's many who can fit the mold, you help me construct losers-- The fodder I write just to slaughter; I've killed you frequently, in fact-- So when I need a worthless sack of **** you're the one I choose, sir! So thanks for that, you beatnik **** I'll **** it on your epitaph! And I'll do it all for free! This ain't a vindictive son bellowing slander just for grandeur, no sir! This is an oath to an old oaf that, though I can't remember your voice, You WILL remember me!
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31
It was so evident The glimpse into your eye Your fabled promise Your, ignoramus Closing to me, why? It was so clear No shadows fear Your bloom on deep lagoon Your spiraled scented perfume Your history's last gloom It was so right As dawn breaking over the sound Sheer carts of wheeling...ground The love of promise, promised found It was so evident, so clear Because I was talking to a witch
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Oct 30, 2019
Oct 30, 2019 at 8:03 PM UTC
It was so
Northern, Eastern, Western and South of our land is in great trouble There's nothing to make, craft or do, jobs falling by double We've lost all of our skills, mines, industries factories None of the closed business will ever move back here We were living the high life with Blair and his magical funding Unaware the ground was falling beneath us and crumbling Conditioned in good times and taken for granted Now the shock is too much to handle   All prices up! Minimum wage no longer exists European competition has seen to this Competing with ex-slave labour Who are prepared to work for peanuts and good favour Tories fooling, ‘Ha ha there is no North and South divide’ While hammering the poorest, robbing us of all remaining pride As he stands in Teesside he thinks it’s the Tyne What hope does the UK have with such ignoramus Tory crime With no hope of work futures look grim Once happy people now stressed to the brink We watch and listen about the mythical recovery I think to myself, ‘London must be some far away country!’
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Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 9:56 AM UTC
Planet London
True Story Hello, do you remember me, I'm the one with no college degree, turned out alright, wouldn't you agree. Always wanted to be famous, I've been called an ignoramus, until now, I was just nameless. All I ask now is for a home and car, haven't quite gotten that far, everyday I earn a brand new scar. Asking for enough money to live, if only I could learn to forgive, I still have a lot more to give. At my age, I haven't done enough, not making excuses about life being tough, is it that wrong, to take a little puff. Two great kids I hardly see, but I know they totally love me, it's too bad having kids wasn't free. Just when things are going right, the sun goes down, and it becomes night, if there is a God, I bet he does it out of spite. I do my best to outweigh the bad to good, never did what I have should, I feel like my life is misunderstood. At the age when things are supposed to get better, they never sent me that very important letter, well it's middle age I'm about to enter. Still I always try and be positive, so what if I'm a bit provocative, well that's my **** prerogative.
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Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 2:28 AM UTC
True Story
There is no such thing as freedom because you can play God because he only pretends to sit in his sofa castle laughing at your foolishness eating your baby noodles Anyone can play this game but I won't stand for it because spilling their guts makes it criminal because it makes me liberal like it's all okay Their cynical smirks and superior rationale burn me alive into a ******* Charleston I curse them all and **** them all and I am ****** for it Words of evil percieved only as evil by the weak because killing and ****** is a neccessity a demand for destiny which the world stages it's freedom for all but the just I know I know nothing unlike all the other pigs they can cheer and chortle because they're boxed in their world epileptic to my hare-ful truth that means nothing because I am an ignoramus who is free To the glamour dressed diesel alcoholic to the giraffe-wearing radicalist to the artistocratic plum-picking *********** to the uneducated, cock-smoking secretary to the briefless, cold-handed ****** to the green-spiked punk with a polarized attitude to the one who sent nukes overseas to G**bless other countries I pity your concealment; your pathetic, two-dimensional box For I know nothing, so when you find me Sit me down, and shoot me in the ******* head Because you wish you had nothing like me So find me and burn me on the stake Huff the audacity my smoking flesh omits Breed your Reptilian filth over my dead body
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Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 6:23 PM UTC
Burn Me Alive For I Am Free