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"infraction" poems
Everyone is scared of Death. I'm petrified of Death. But am I scared to die? No, no, I am not. I welcome the end with open arms. At night I shudder under my blanket dreaming of the paths that Death leaves in its wake. In the darkness of my room with thunderstorms inside my head, I fear the hole that is left after Death has struck. I wonder what, who, might come out of it: **Depression, Mourning, Sorrow, Confusion, Emptiness, and even more Death.** I miss the good old days when Life could be as easy as going to bed at night worrying about what Pokemon version to get, how to get the latest game console, what skill in basketball I need to improve in, when my parents will find out I had an infraction, how the test next day will go. But it's funny, Life, the more you grow in it the more you approach Death.
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May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
Death
People were dancing while others would sing, In the midst of the action, Church bells would ting And they would tong. It was always a familiar song. And an old man in black Tells us of the faith we all lack. I am guilty of that infraction. Because I can see That the multiple hells Lasting forever in this world Has been brought to us, and bound By our greedy owners. That is the meaning. After all of the spoken and written word, We must suffer for one man's treason. Our redemption is no man's call.
0
Oct 26, 2011
Oct 26, 2011 at 5:42 PM UTC
Deaf Ears
The night was comfortable, branches lightly choreographed a dramatic reaction to the conversation beneath… spoken words breach the midnight hour by 2, and words are in place of sleep. They speak, but still pretend to have something worth to keep In silence now, no reaction. Walls and thoughts collide and they see the infraction. In a quick succession of contact, blood boils intuition becomes submissive. With the steam of these midnight hours rises away the taboos of love and loyalty, as intoxication devours any human decency. Breathing softly now; with eyes that berate the truth hiding behind the midnight-hour lies, they instigate innocent massage wars desperately wanting neither knowing how they plunge underneath these unbreakable ties. Now speechless they grasp one another speaking devilishly with eyes and even louder with the toils of their hands. Why do you run from surreptitious lies and hide behind your eyes? Say this is how you feel for one thing then when it’s around wear a disguise? Helpless you act toward desires that you conspire to You lit the match and now you must put out the fire.
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Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 5:45 PM UTC
Choreographed Midnight Surreptitiousness
The wandering hours Create pondering towers When instead of talking You are always walking Steadily ahead of me Like you're dead to me Like a small centipede Walking for centuries With the intent to be free Yet constantly ambulatory So we become slaves to your movement When settling would be an improvement You begin to freely flake As I start to starve You say let them eat cake And my heart you carve Into servings appropriate for your appetite While I know something isn't right But still forced to accept this plight Of being your minor distraction Chained by my love's infraction Of settling on you I shouldn't stay But I bet I do I wish I loved or hated you a little more So I'd know what to do As it stands I'm always looking out the door But I'm unable to move I want to stick around and see if you do something amazing Like love me back Instead of attack With your acidic apathy You mercilessly grapple me And never decide to let go Of love you never let show We've been driving down this road for a while And for the last million miserable miles You've presented me unpredictable trials With your nonchalant instinctual style You've let yourself become extremely impaired As I understandably grow more and more scared I feel the answer is in the love we seldom share But you're never lost when you're going nowhere And I cannot follow your wandering stare
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Nov 22, 2017
Nov 22, 2017 at 3:02 AM UTC
Wandering
Five for fighting hands to the face personal foul player disgrace Illegal contact leap in the fray willful head shot leg astray Encroachment defense mouth guard out roughing the passer back field bout Grounding the pigskin mis-aligned horse collar tackle clip from behind Knee on knee offside end unnecessary roughness too many men Gross misconduct poke in the eye hooking the shooter sticks up high Match ejection over the top face off folly penalty shot Unsportsmanlike conduct chopping the block slew foot infraction hammer lock Stick to the head kick in the crotch **** end jab adhering the watch Slashing the d-man spearing the wing running the keeper back checking Intentional grounding stoppage in play punching and hacking delay of the game Striking the ref aggressor in fight obstructing the line out ear in a bite Loss of downs hands in the ruck pinching and boarding illegal upchuck Rules of the battle by the bye pushing the limits with a wink of an eye
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May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 9:24 PM UTC
The Sin Bin
Pausing for a reaction A hateful acknowledgement of my actions Jangling your nerves For each and every infraction I push the buttons To a dangerous ledge Forcing you closer and closer To the cliff's edge Happily for filling to my death a pledge I push the buttons Comes a loving embrace Then retrieve from my memory Thoughts better erased The time in my life Sequence of events They gave way to my now favorite pastime I push the buttons A puppet helpless you will dance Never again allowed the chance To have a life without the shadow of a cloud Forever Prodding and poking I shall never cease The humming of my plastic keys Enlightening those Who cannot believe What lies on the other side There will be no peace My appetite  for revenge will never be filled So I push the buttons This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright Act, 17 U.S.C. S517(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 9:35 PM UTC
I push the buttons
I'm nervously staring at a blank page I can not concentrate Why can I not explain how deranged These thoughts will range before I engage with another Leaving everything getting to me beneath the surface While asking after others Internal whispers hint on my actions Each infraction gains traction As I fail to supplement the latter with a fraction of a rebuttle All the while huddling in a corner and never subtle Like a mortar ready to explode yet I self-implode each time Because I refuse to unload It makes my mind the victim within this fight The fact that I will not attack but rather act and pretend Like this suspension will defend me or better yet transcend me Is another cover until exactly when? Otherwise pending How selfishly imposed is my level of deceit Not a second of relief for I am a liar and a thief To expose copiously my own hopeless struggle crumbling me But if I don't take this venom that's coursing through me If I don't choose lemons over poison That's it, I'm done C'est la vie, ***** me I'll write out each and every buffer For this montage of self-sabotage isn't quite enough To make me suffer No. It seems I need to be hit with lightning nineteen times while struck from behind and intertwined in the jaws of a great white shark before anything productive happens or anything creative sparks. Before I utilize the clandestine confines of this mind to do or say or think of something smart. Just another day to start another chapter in the story of my life. I've come so far and fought so hard to stay away from that knife. Known recognition through prepositions giving meaning to my trifles and tremblings, be they lucid dreams or presently vivid memories... And never feigning, only straining harder each day Contemplating carefully The words that I say The thoughts that I convey The everyday reality that's now so far away What can I do to replace the voices haunting me? Flaunting their perfect prisms And what I'll never be Its never enough And that's just too much.. Stealing my serene Leaving me unclean And never free
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Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 5:42 PM UTC
Never Free
I'm nervously staring at a blank page I can not concentrate Why can I not explain how deranged These thoughts will range before I engage with another Leaving everything getting to me beneath the surface While asking after others Internal whispers hint on my actions Each infraction gains traction As I fail to supplement the latter with a fraction of a rebuttle All the while huddling in a corner and never subtle Like a mortar ready to explode yet I self-implode each time Because I refuse to unload It makes my mind the victim within this fight The fact that I will not attack but rather act and pretend Like this suspension will defend me or better yet transcend me Is another cover until exactly when? Otherwise pending How selfishly imposed is my level of deceit Not a second of relief for I am a liar and a thief To expose copiously my own hopeless struggle crumbling me But if I don't take this venom that's coursing through me If I don't choose lemons over poison That's it, I'm done C'est la vie, ***** me I'll write out each and every buffer For this montage of self-sabotage isn't quite enough To make me suffer No. It seems I need to be hit with lightning nineteen times while struck from behind and intertwined in the jaws of a great white shark before anything productive happens or anything creative sparks. Before I utilize the clandestine confines of this mind to do or say or think of something smart. Just another day to start another chapter in the story of my life. I've come so far and fought so hard to stay away from that knife. Known recognition through prepositions giving meaning to my trifles and tremblings, be they lucid dreams or presently vivid memories... And never feigning, only straining harder each day Contemplating carefully The words that I say The thoughts that I convey The everyday reality that's now so far away What can I do to replace the voices haunting me? Flaunting their perfect prisms And what I'll never be Its never enough And that's just too much.. Stealing my serene Leaving me unclean And never free
Continue reading...
41
We are a bad design For example; A vain person disgusted with the same person in every reflection What insane being had the unmitigated gall to be insertin' that complication into a person Self-deprivation an infection of a mind nurtured from inception Do I even need to mention the who, what, where, why and when of my formation ...I've heard it said over and over again... It's the creator of all creation, although I don't know where they're getting their information I've read Genesis through Revolutions over and over again, no revelation A costly salvation, so much rejection for every little infraction Never seen an open invitation with so much expectation ...not a single one of us are getting in... We're designed to sin due to his lust for "discipline" lookin' down at the chaos with a menacing grin A master of manipulation, the "do what I say not what I do" origin If he's who we're based on then he's who the worst of you see in your reflection "God is good" should be turned into a question though I understand the hesitation ...I know the fear it's based in... Not even a good god adaptation, parts of old religion taken and added to your own doctrine Each page of "his words" a contradiction of the last no matter the translation It's always been, it's not just now going through a mutation Under face value it's basic power retention, not somethin' they'll be changin' ...you're in for a rude awakenin'... Be smart, search your mind not your heart, that's only for circulation It's lifespan based on repetition, same mission as the Reverend and fellow brethren This whole things a set up, a con, a lie that people won't stop spreadin' And if the threat of eternal damnation is the only thing keepin' you from sinnin' then listen ...those morals are set by an immoral faction... ©2023
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Dec 29, 2023
Dec 29, 2023 at 2:47 PM UTC
~•§•~ Morals Set by the Immoral ~•§•~
We are a bad design For example; A vain person disgusted with the same person in every reflection What insane being had the unmitigated gall to be insertin' that complication into a person Self-deprivation an infection of a mind nurtured from inception Do I even need to mention the who, what, where, why and when of my formation ...I've heard it said over and over again... It's the creator of all creation, although I don't know where they're getting their information I've read Genesis through Revolutions over and over again, no revelation A costly salvation, so much rejection for every little infraction Never seen an open invitation with so much expectation ...not a single one of us are getting in... We're designed to sin due to his lust for "discipline" lookin' down at the chaos with a menacing grin A master of manipulation, the "do what I say not what I do" origin If he's who we're based on then he's who the worst of you see in your reflection "God is good" should be turned into a question though I understand the hesitation ...I know the fear it's based in... Not even a good god adaptation, parts of old religion taken and added to your own doctrine Each page of "his words" a contradiction of the last no matter the translation It's always been, it's not just now going through a mutation Under face value it's basic power retention, not somethin' they'll be changin' ...you're in for a rude awakenin'... Be smart, search your mind not your heart, that's only for circulation It's lifespan based on repetition, same mission as the Reverend and fellow brethren This whole things a set up, a con, a lie that people won't stop spreadin' And if the threat of eternal damnation is the only thing keepin' you from sinnin' then listen ...those morals are set by an immoral faction... ©2023
Continue reading...
28
They left the gear behind Art extracted from the wall Beauty replaced by wreckage Goal. Better, cheaper, faster Supersize that meal Minimize the standing Next whistle. Who violated the infraction Opened the door and stared into darkness. Avoid all signs of humanity. Misguided focus limits potential Evolution carries Idea’s reincarnated Real estate in your cranium Captured with pencil and paper Juicy secondary ideas Endless amounts of protein Multicolored index cards Wilderness of imagination
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 7:17 PM UTC
Blue-Sky Meeting
My blood boils It runs through me Like fire My heart is on the highway Driving at full speed Driving away from the sirens The chaos Yet it follows me My veins pop out They put on a show They dance And throw knives at the crowd Everything is too loud All my life I've felt this way All my life i ran and hid away I always listened to the **** you would say Be brave Follow the rules Be perfect Be quiet I stuck to your diet For life Perfect little girl In a not so perfect little world I was modest and meek I took every beating Every week I was betrayed Mocked Ridiculed Violated Abandoned Forgotten And disrespected Yet i stayed Quiet Yet i apologized And never Misbehaved Every little infraction Noticed by you Yet you said it was god who cared God who has shamed me For being different For dying my hair For standing up for myself But he doesn't shame you For being a terrible parent Or person Or liar My therapist says I'm too angry But who wouldn't be? If you were me? Wouldn't you want the world on fire If you were me? Dealing with **** Abandonment Everyone crawling all over you Seeping into your bones Doing whatever they want While i cry alone While i waste my life away And sacrifice myself to Your hypocritical throne Will my anger ever cease? Will i ever find peace? Will anyone ever stop disrespecting me? Will anyone ever show they care? Will god ever prove he's really there? Will my loved ones stop dying young? Will the world stop killing with such deep evil passion? Can i ever make up for the missed life i lost? Will i learn to be my own boss ? To never apologize for my existence To feel like i belong To know I'm not wrong To stand up for me To become what i want to be To know i deserve better To burn every violent letter Will i ever find peace? Ever let my blood calm? Ever feel the truth from psalms? Only if the words in this poem Become My truth My religion If everything I asked for If everything i can be Happens Maybe Just maybe I won't burn you all down Maybe
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Aug 27, 2025
Aug 27, 2025 at 10:33 PM UTC
Maybe
My blood boils It runs through me Like fire My heart is on the highway Driving at full speed Driving away from the sirens The chaos Yet it follows me My veins pop out They put on a show They dance And throw knives at the crowd Everything is too loud All my life I've felt this way All my life i ran and hid away I always listened to the **** you would say Be brave Follow the rules Be perfect Be quiet I stuck to your diet For life Perfect little girl In a not so perfect little world I was modest and meek I took every beating Every week I was betrayed Mocked Ridiculed Violated Abandoned Forgotten And disrespected Yet i stayed Quiet Yet i apologized And never Misbehaved Every little infraction Noticed by you Yet you said it was god who cared God who has shamed me For being different For dying my hair For standing up for myself But he doesn't shame you For being a terrible parent Or person Or liar My therapist says I'm too angry But who wouldn't be? If you were me? Wouldn't you want the world on fire If you were me? Dealing with **** Abandonment Everyone crawling all over you Seeping into your bones Doing whatever they want While i cry alone While i waste my life away And sacrifice myself to Your hypocritical throne Will my anger ever cease? Will i ever find peace? Will anyone ever stop disrespecting me? Will anyone ever show they care? Will god ever prove he's really there? Will my loved ones stop dying young? Will the world stop killing with such deep evil passion? Can i ever make up for the missed life i lost? Will i learn to be my own boss ? To never apologize for my existence To feel like i belong To know I'm not wrong To stand up for me To become what i want to be To know i deserve better To burn every violent letter Will i ever find peace? Ever let my blood calm? Ever feel the truth from psalms? Only if the words in this poem Become My truth My religion If everything I asked for If everything i can be Happens Maybe Just maybe I won't burn you all down Maybe
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95
I can't..just can't avoid Running into my own shadow As I dance with myself Whenever your aura is concerned Hard to understand why I feel so strong the attraction Or why you put up With the ridiculous stories I constantly unfold. And I do listen for Even the tiniest bit of recrimination and never have I heard a hint For pushing you too far So what random spin or role of the die led me to your acquaintance And...and I voiced my affection A little hint - not any overt abstractions I would never ever want to be associated With the kind to emanate an infraction I think you understand and I want you to know At least from my point of view You are.... like the best chocolate a sweetness an addiction that just makes me as nutty As a peanut butter cup I would if I could you know.....?? the line rhymes so I've said enough love you ....for ....that way that you are An infatuation...my..   Hey...! Who got their aura .. ...all over my imagination?
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Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 1:20 AM UTC
For who you are
Way out in its own oasis Its very own brand of homeostasis Passed the jarred ideas and whacked out mazes Is a spot Full of unknown faces Hailing from unknown places Look at it, fall out with out protracted traces Vacant lot Then let's settle the score What is your original face before your mom and dad were born? Why not start over with a clean slate, as the smell of new dawns pervade I forgot to eat Maybe if you gave the derelict half a chance And looked at things from the ambivert's stance People wouldn't notice your ego's protuberance Upstaged by an under study Pull the button, turn the lever, push the switch and flip the **** Predicate the incendiary infraction Reductio ad absurdum Lip service provides scrutiny We've been normalized, what the recipe for ice? We're full of emptiness, nothing exists No-thing, not a thing does not exist Life is deathless I'm looking for multifaceted individuals To fix something that's irreparable   An eerie parable, something terrible My future's told by flash cards I put my head between my knees Just wipe my memory Leave me at the bottom of the sea Leave my dignity to discard When two separate divisions are over lapping What's the sound of one hand clapping? Comparing then and now every now and then Again, never will I say"never again" -Tommy Johnson
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Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 3:20 AM UTC
The Last Dandelion-Eyelash Wish
Think you're in the drivers seat But you're being taken for a ride There's so many things you once had That have been taken away -denied Keep giving you the run around Until you're too tired to notice That you're just a pawn -inventory To help them fill the quota Moving forward towards a destination As we all fall backwards By self segregation Cops on one side As citizens take up positions on the other Long gone -seem to be-those days When we thought of everyone as a brother Learn to park the car So the camera doesn't point Towards the action the infraction What good is a camera on the chest When all it takes is a hand To cover up the brutality of an arrest Army surplus filling out the wish list Of the new urban vision To the point that things have risen To a totality of saturation Where if you don't know your station They have a back-up plan In the form of private prison Build it and they will come Business as usual- trumps the visual Seeing doesn't mean believing Pain for you Will always profit some Rich keep on getting richer Poor get getting trod -on Politicians say they're getting Just what they brought on to themselves That ain't the way I see it One person one vote If you're taking note You will see that they are trying to Gwrrymander everyone  into encampments Everyone's building camps of their own Self-segregation falling into a wayward nation As tribal-bands expand With any vision its easy to see The cost of preservation is loyalty To the gang with which you hang Even if it comes to a gun battle In a crowded parking lot When cops are prepared and aware A nation of TOO many law's Creates a LAWLESS  nation! Just like we've now got If you think I've gone too far Then ask yourself who it is Who it is ... That we really are.
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Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 10:58 PM UTC
Wake up ( you're being taken for a ride)
Think you're in the drivers seat But you're being taken for a ride There's so many things you once had That have been taken away -denied Keep giving you the run around Until you're too tired to notice That you're just a pawn -inventory To help them fill the quota Moving forward towards a destination As we all fall backwards By self segregation Cops on one side As citizens take up positions on the other Long gone -seem to be-those days When we thought of everyone as a brother Learn to park the car So the camera doesn't point Towards the action the infraction What good is a camera on the chest When all it takes is a hand To cover up the brutality of an arrest Army surplus filling out the wish list Of the new urban vision To the point that things have risen To a totality of saturation Where if you don't know your station They have a back-up plan In the form of private prison Build it and they will come Business as usual- trumps the visual Seeing doesn't mean believing Pain for you Will always profit some Rich keep on getting richer Poor get getting trod -on Politicians say they're getting Just what they brought on to themselves That ain't the way I see it One person one vote If you're taking note You will see that they are trying to Gwrrymander everyone  into encampments Everyone's building camps of their own Self-segregation falling into a wayward nation As tribal-bands expand With any vision its easy to see The cost of preservation is loyalty To the gang with which you hang Even if it comes to a gun battle In a crowded parking lot When cops are prepared and aware A nation of TOO many law's Creates a LAWLESS  nation! Just like we've now got If you think I've gone too far Then ask yourself who it is Who it is ... That we really are.
Continue reading...
58
Just when you think it has ended And people have matured You’re ready to have all the fractures mended But another infraction occurs Four, Sixteen, Twenty Some think it’s too much And some think it’s simply plenty Well I don’t give a **** Some are still just part of the flock Letting the herd dictate their life And I had honestly thought I’d stopped Having to deal with that kind of strife. Who are you to think you know better Keeping things between the lines Following arbitrary rules to the letter So refined? No, so confined. Who do you think you are Trying to put me on trial Well you won’t get very far Sieg heil! Sieg heil!
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Mar 16, 2010
Mar 16, 2010 at 6:48 PM UTC
I’m Still Bitter
Russian aggressors made their move. Now they're in Ukraine. What is Putin trying to prove? What is there to gain? The autocrat's messages are cloaked In lies that Russia was provoked. Stand with Ukraine as Russian forces Put Putin's plan into action. We already know that this of course is More than a mere infraction. Playing the role of boogeyman Is part of Putin's larger plan. Putin claims his forces are there To stop denazification. The argument, which is full of holes, Is total fabrication. We already know that he's obsessed With Ukraine's interest in the West. We watch as the egomaniac Causes death and destruction With this unwarranted attack-- Another Putin production! Stand with Ukraine in this sad hour As Putin basks in his ill-gotten power. -by Bob B (2-24-22)
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Feb 24, 2022
Feb 24, 2022 at 10:05 AM UTC
Stand with Ukraine!
I’m sorry, I’m sorry. The chorus of voices come from nowhere, And lead me equally so, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Apologizing for an unseen infraction, Nothing is unforgivable. Did it explode? They keep walking, breaking glass. No one around them can stop them. Paying no attention to the pieces of broken glass, They continue on their deadly masquerade, With a malevolent soul supplying the masques. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. The chorus of voices return, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Bringing more meaning to the racing thoughts. Footsteps. Paranoia. The cicadas stop in an orchestrated silence. Step. Step. I’m alone. No one is there. I’m sorry, I’m sorry A dream? Is that what it is? I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Am I crazy? Where are the answers? I need to tell someone. It is killing me. I need to let people know. What good is it, that the ones I need to tell, are yet the ones doing the killing? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, that the truth cannot be shown.
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Nov 1, 2011
Nov 1, 2011 at 10:39 PM UTC
I'm Sorry
Sure, I work in maximum security prison grow large scale medical marijuana have 22 year old twin daughters, who are beautiful and without child… a nineteen year old son, with no police record, and enrolled in community college – Yes, I have a Bachelor’s degree I received at almost 40 served on the parks and rec. board as vice-chair was president of a prison education awareness group have not had any sort of infraction for 20 years – It’s true, I am a white man in America free and over 21 I vote so I feel free to complain eat GMO free and organic try to get in a little exercise spend time with my wife and children as fun enjoy the company of my friends – I’ll concede I am a good person make positive choices for not only my life but with future generations in mind ecologically friendly with an eye to restoring the natural habitats…………… ………………………………………… ………………………………………… but, I am no hero
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Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
just a guy
I’m struck Struck, not by stubborn winds nor seeping rain and bitter snow I am struck by the audacity! The audacity of life itself… Grating insults hurled middle fingers flashing like upturned fangs sumptuous thighs, bare and glistening in the sunlight heavy alcohol dripping off the cheeks. Failed relationships, I was bored so… Isn’t that always the excuse, as to why I can hear her ***** him didn’t she know I’d be home? Who cares. It’s the audacity of life that bugs me, because, the simple answer, with every infraction, is, I do so, because I am. Now leave me be. But I know they know it can't be that simple. They're all the 29th round boxer fighting a shadow: an unyielding mass of darkness chained to our souls occupying no more than the air itself yet heavy as the bedrock of hell deep and destructive. I've seen these shadows break a man. I was that man. So I tremble at the audacity of life. Wherein the puppet manipulates the master. Wherein the blind see more than the visionary. Wherein the beggar is imbued with purpose, and the money mogul strips his vassals of soul and sympathy. Yes, and I have the audacity to write this, like I give a **** when I'm just like you. Another day... Another dollar...
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Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 10:50 PM UTC
Living, Breathing Audacity...
I know it sounds cliche Just try to brighten up your day The slightest infraction from your schedule may spiral you down From which you stood to the hard earthy ground Being unable to get up, but you have me, Your friends, your love, passions, interests...thoughts I will carefully, soothingly lift you off the barren soil Carrying you though my foot is broken. cracked, My mind has morphed into desolate waste. I will never leave you in the midst of danger Rescuing you regardless of what happens to me. I will be there, not just because I love you, But because every entity in my being has the urge to Care, Genuinely care for you Standing there, Breathing, inhale, exhale, coming to a realization, Moments like this only bring us closer, Strengthening our relationship Creating unforgettable memories of joy Even in the most irrefutably painful situations. I will endure because of you, So in stressful situations full of angst or worry Never forget the most difficult task: remembering, Remember I am and will be there for/with you
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Apr 25, 2012
Apr 25, 2012 at 10:55 PM UTC
Remember
the ones of courage stood up to bravely defend they saw that injustice was in need of amend others looked away not seeing an infraction yet the valiant warriors forwarded into action they dared to do what was right and didn't shun the just fight showing conviction was JAX and Kim who stood up to advocate for the apt Jim
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Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
Who Stood Up?
In my family, a convent in Lucerne, Switzerland loomed legend large. Its name is “La Madone Noire” (the Black Madonna) and according to my mom, it is a “finishing school” where captious girls, who lied or who wouldn’t behave, were sent to live with and be schooled by nuns. It was, from all reports, a terrible and stern place where there was never any ice cream or bedtime stories and the toys, when there were any, were made of straw. Most of the time it was my older sister Annick getting the dark Poe-like lectures, but I was there, in my high chair, listening wide-eyed. The very idea that Annick could be snatched up, for some infraction, and sent off to the nuns horrified me to the point that my heartbeat seemed to come through my whole body. Eventually, as we grew, “Lucerne” became a shorthand for “shape up or else,” and oddly,  it never lost its potency. Hmm, you know, come to think of it - there was no equivalent monastery for my brother.
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Jan 2, 2022
Jan 2, 2022 at 9:10 AM UTC
la madone noire
How intriguing the thought of serendipitous chance A fortunate omen of sudden romance Through glass and fog of distance and time A like-minded, almost kindred affinity brings a new effervescence to the presumed absurdity If time was a place, located by thought The distance that breeds connection Is simply the means to the desired perfection How gracious and bold that time must be To create such a lasting attraction Where an end seems a pity, a waste, an infraction The balance of forces that compels the unseen Opens closed minds to new perspectives And clouds the indignant, old and tired objectives Misplaced emotions and volatile benevolence Lead to perpetual indecision, and wasted dreams Where the goal is unattainable and sacrificed for schemes Pondering the options that are created as such Lead to open possibilities of endless means Where whimsical notions are an effortless tease How long the path winds and curves to sight The ingenious and recondite plot of the teller's tale Unbeknownst to those who may leave it for fail Thickens more as it turns and toils Breeding excitement, adventure and a life all its own To be nurtured, or kept, or ever grown.
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
Serendipitous
Ropes stretching, squeezing my lungs, binding flesh in, and expanding pink tissue, suffocating, coughing, choking up words. My throat pinched, struggling to say What I Need To Say. Scars on my heart and on my hand, reddish bruises covering my pale abdomen, shrills held in, but do I risk it? What's one more beautifully purple mixed blue Infraction? Why do I stay with a creature, morbid, able to inflict pain on someone, On Me. Gasping for air, that salty, watery substance inundating my every crease. "I love you baby." But he loves me. I've never been loved. I can't lose something I have been needing. Covering up my myriad continual pain, the marks that I'm constantly reminded of, turning into a vibrant watercolor painting with each passing day. I've had enough. I'm done. Please Stop! "but I love you"
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Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 9:40 PM UTC
"But I love you"
What I fear most Is that intellectuals and scholars have never been understood And that I stand among them Like a ***** in today's time Unworthy and misunderstood The slightest Infraction a death sentence to a meaningful existence If, for only a second, they could see things how I do. How grand it could be.
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Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 7:47 PM UTC
If time stood still