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"justly" poems
i have found what you are like the rain, (Who feathers frightened fields with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields easily the pale club of the wind and swirled justly souls of flower strike the air in utterable coolness deeds of green thrilling light with thinned newfragile yellows lurch and.press —in the woods which stutter and sing And the coolness of your smile is stirringofbirds between my arms;but i should rather than anything have(almost when hugeness will shut quietly)almost, your kiss
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I Have Found What You Are Like
Our nation is a father Who spends sons unwisely Wasting their wonder On warrior blunders In nations swelling pride We see our children Committing suicide Honor bound to pursue Patriotic truths If mothers ran the world Would it all be better Or would maternal malice Malform modern intent Blue eyes telling lies Of war and all its’ glories Grey hair sitting there In old reclining lawn chairs Celebrating fantastic stories But I know the lives lost Were not always spent wisely Were not always sacrificed justly Why does it feel like no one else sees Have I become Don Quixote Fatherland motherland Better planned Would be brotherhood And sisterhood All that love spent for the good Like this poem We have lost our way Perhaps better stanza Will return the wisdom Of our better sages
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Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 3:21 PM UTC
Nation
and what were roses. Perfume?for i do forget…or mere Music mounting unsurely twilight but here were something more maturely childish,more beautiful almost than you. Yet if not flower,tell me softly who be these haunters of dreams always demurely halfsmiling from cool faces,moving purely with muted steps,yet somewhat proudly too— are they not ladies,ladies of my dreams justly touching roses their fingers whitely live by? or better, queens,queens laughing lightly crowned with far colors, thinking very much of nothing and whom dawn loves most to touch wishing by willows,bending upon streams?
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And What Were Roses. Perfume?For I Do
Swept in on the sixth of the first Icy winds sluiced on dripping fleecy snow showers I saw a raging storm coming with vile foreboding nursed Staple in peace in love in goodwill laid a fitting banquet for all hours Rewards for toil and strive in minds attuned and goodness versed I knelt supplicant before my Lord Laid my just heart bare and without fear or dread laid a ringing vow as in warmth or bellowing thundering cold I rest in the forethought I am girded to sail sun's flames un thread For no blooded being can justly state I harmed or injured in my fold I will walk this vale of tears Meet with demons and the ****** of the outer worlds Face the volcanoes in hell and shame blazing red lava ingots I will not cower before deadly serpents or baulk at icy frozen walls If I fall I will stand again an again till God's time uneaten by maggots I implored my Faithful Lord Take me down grind and cast me asunder and bereft If this be ordained that an innocent soul pays an unjust price The darkest storm has raged wild and furious a depraved joy theft My God upholds me and holds that truths and honesty never a vice [email protected].
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Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 5:34 PM UTC
I Stand Accused...........
I am not what I used to be So now in the shadow of unspoken events Everything whimsical is leaving Words fill my head, they fragment like artillery shells they tare through it forcing irreparable damage. Time has accelerated Born out of the absence of light Shaped by my own hands Justly worthy to be referenced and adored I re-encounter what my elation briefly with held The thirst for the dangerous Obliterate the incomprehensible crowding thoughts The stampede within my head The mayhem of the many visions Lock them down, all that fracture within my head Inexplicable wanderings of mindful musings Spontaneous perceptions Shadow of foe Encircling their fears with distractions Pulsing in endless repetitions I am the one whose throat is stripped bare. I am the one who has not spoken in years A distant moon to sense © Crystal Erickson
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Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 11:35 AM UTC
Collective Visualization
Now since I advised you this Sentiment Try to apply your Fares with her Mother And if you win, which is one Compliment That you use to connect with her Brother This is just some Counsel from Ben Nevis' View Hassled to ensure you did the Right Thing For justly understand this ardent Crew Is no excuse for Procrastinating In private this Agent is unaware For him to barrage out of Deep Respect Yet keep watch for Feathers dancing in the Air They turn to Anvils; And hit your Retrospect. Listen you Two. This is why you will Learn That Family's knots tied is Best you earn.
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Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:17 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - THIRTY-FOUR - TOM DALEY
Now upon Age my Ripe Lantern will give The Rose of Thirty-Four for his Best Joy Sister, the Token of my Purpose, live, Brother, the Promise of a Knighted Boy Which Rose, purple or red, will compensate A Decade's Sin I rehearse to atone Pride, one Raven crowed I pluck without Hate And gently shift my Psalms for her Behold How another Labour I justly Failed Must submit to her Needs before my own For me the Decoding Concept derailed The Troll called Pity transforms your Heart to Gold. You both planned to defer in New Year's Lift Still for you both I sing this Sterling Gift.
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Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 4:31 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: JIPO CERVANTES AND TISHA MANDREZA
I strive to be… a transcendent being… armed with fearless questioning powered by Love and light. A transcendent being ...is not lead by ploys to keep the world separated. ..does not judge others In order to feel better about themselves. A transcendent being is comfortable in their own skin... therefore … ego and envy are taken out of the mix... A transcendent being sees through fearless eyes the beauty of the rest of the world, A transcendent being carries with them their own personal joy… excited by possibilities and purpose their world becomes full of adventure. Problems do not disappear… They simply become a challenge Fueled by what could be inspired by justice distributed with integrity. Without fears… transcendent beings see what is truly needed… … a system designed with the realities of the present and accommodations that are handed out justly… distributed with intregrity. Ushering out "should's" And “should not’s” Replaced with more… fearless compassion... and why not's. Imagine then... what you would change... and join me in striving To be a Transcedent Being.
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Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 8:32 AM UTC
To Be A Transcendent Being...
LOVE, HATE, WISDOM, FEAR, WEALTH… KEYS MANY ARE TO LIFE IT’S SAID NONE IN BIRTH IS AFRAID,WISE,HATEFUL,GREEDY,NONE SHALL BE SO IN DEATH. LIFE! ITS A NOW,A PRESENT CONTINUOUS,DIES HERE THE PAST,A FUTURE BORN NOW,A SUM TOTAL OF PAST,FUTURE AN EQUATION INEXORABLE FROM HEREON. FUTILE IS FUTURE MIRRORING PAST, AWARENESS MY PRIMER FOR A CHANGE FAST.   WHEN ALIVE ARE HEARTS PUMPING,WHY ARE MINDS AND SOULS DEAD BARREN? ISN'T HEART THE GOOD EARTH ALWAYS AND MIND THE TREE WISE OF BANYAN? I RID THE DISCONNECT, BY GRACE, HAVE A MINDFUL HEART, A HEARTFELT MIND! LIVING THE STAID REALITY OF LIFE, LOVING, HATING, THINKING, BEING WISE,FOOLISH KILLING, FORGIVING, PHILOSOPHICAL IN A CRUELLY KIND WORLD OF PARADOX. IS THERE A REALITY DEVOID, OF LIFE AND DEATH, LOVE AND HATE, GOD AND RELIGION, OR TRUTHS,LIES, TIME-SPACE,SOUNDS AND SILENCE,EQUANIMOUS PEACE AT WAR? IS IT JUST A PLAY, OF THE MIND AND HEART, DESIRE AND POWER,BONDAGE UNREAL? GOOD VERSUS EVIL? I LIVE BY THE HEART,IT DOES STOP AND THE MIND,OH DOES IT ROT! UNFEELING HEARTS AND UNTHINKING MINDS, THESE BARRIERS SLOWLY I CROSS, BEYOND IS THE BEING, THE EXISTING, INCAPABLE OF THE UNREAL, DIVINELY AFAR, A VOID SURREAL,UNFEELING YET KIND SOMEHOW, UNLOVING YET CARING SOMEHOW UNSAD, UNJOYOUS, UNAFRAID, UNWORLDLY...ATTRIBUTES NONE AT ALL! UNBEING?? I KNOW NOT IF IT’S GOOD OR EVIL, IS JUST UNBEING,UNAFFECTED BETTER SOMEHOW? IS THE FREE UNBEING THERE,JUST TOTALLY BEING HERE?! BACK TO A REALITY RELATIVE! GREYS ARE MANY, IF DARK BE HATE AND BE LIGHT LOVE, MID-GREY IS THE WORLD, HOPE CAN MOVE! FROM THE MOUNTAINS DOWN I CLIMB, JUST, WITH PRECIOUS BAGGAGE, UNPACKED TO MAKE SENSE, OF THE REAL IN THE UNREAL,THIS ONE WORLD IN INFINITY, WITH  ITS ANGELS AND DEMONS, I CHOOSE TO LIVE WITH REALITY; AND UNRAVEL JUSTLY; ELSE IT COMES LIVES WITH ME ANYWAYS! OR IS IT ALL JUST INEVITABLY INEXORABLE, JUST A HERMITS DESTINY?!
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May 25, 2012
May 25, 2012 at 3:18 AM UTC
THE HERMITS DESTINY.
LOVE, HATE, WISDOM, FEAR, WEALTH… KEYS MANY ARE TO LIFE IT’S SAID NONE IN BIRTH IS AFRAID,WISE,HATEFUL,GREEDY,NONE SHALL BE SO IN DEATH. LIFE! ITS A NOW,A PRESENT CONTINUOUS,DIES HERE THE PAST,A FUTURE BORN NOW,A SUM TOTAL OF PAST,FUTURE AN EQUATION INEXORABLE FROM HEREON. FUTILE IS FUTURE MIRRORING PAST, AWARENESS MY PRIMER FOR A CHANGE FAST.   WHEN ALIVE ARE HEARTS PUMPING,WHY ARE MINDS AND SOULS DEAD BARREN? ISN'T HEART THE GOOD EARTH ALWAYS AND MIND THE TREE WISE OF BANYAN? I RID THE DISCONNECT, BY GRACE, HAVE A MINDFUL HEART, A HEARTFELT MIND! LIVING THE STAID REALITY OF LIFE, LOVING, HATING, THINKING, BEING WISE,FOOLISH KILLING, FORGIVING, PHILOSOPHICAL IN A CRUELLY KIND WORLD OF PARADOX. IS THERE A REALITY DEVOID, OF LIFE AND DEATH, LOVE AND HATE, GOD AND RELIGION, OR TRUTHS,LIES, TIME-SPACE,SOUNDS AND SILENCE,EQUANIMOUS PEACE AT WAR? IS IT JUST A PLAY, OF THE MIND AND HEART, DESIRE AND POWER,BONDAGE UNREAL? GOOD VERSUS EVIL? I LIVE BY THE HEART,IT DOES STOP AND THE MIND,OH DOES IT ROT! UNFEELING HEARTS AND UNTHINKING MINDS, THESE BARRIERS SLOWLY I CROSS, BEYOND IS THE BEING, THE EXISTING, INCAPABLE OF THE UNREAL, DIVINELY AFAR, A VOID SURREAL,UNFEELING YET KIND SOMEHOW, UNLOVING YET CARING SOMEHOW UNSAD, UNJOYOUS, UNAFRAID, UNWORLDLY...ATTRIBUTES NONE AT ALL! UNBEING?? I KNOW NOT IF IT’S GOOD OR EVIL, IS JUST UNBEING,UNAFFECTED BETTER SOMEHOW? IS THE FREE UNBEING THERE,JUST TOTALLY BEING HERE?! BACK TO A REALITY RELATIVE! GREYS ARE MANY, IF DARK BE HATE AND BE LIGHT LOVE, MID-GREY IS THE WORLD, HOPE CAN MOVE! FROM THE MOUNTAINS DOWN I CLIMB, JUST, WITH PRECIOUS BAGGAGE, UNPACKED TO MAKE SENSE, OF THE REAL IN THE UNREAL,THIS ONE WORLD IN INFINITY, WITH  ITS ANGELS AND DEMONS, I CHOOSE TO LIVE WITH REALITY; AND UNRAVEL JUSTLY; ELSE IT COMES LIVES WITH ME ANYWAYS! OR IS IT ALL JUST INEVITABLY INEXORABLE, JUST A HERMITS DESTINY?!
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I know and treasure the love you hold for me And my heart beats back to yours How thrilling to peruse the pages of ecstasy That your heart writes And mine adores I read living lines that pierce my waking heart Upon each lovely page I see Each word justly claims myself to be a part Of you As you are, of me Because I know you love me unquestionably And my heart beats back to yours I continue reading these lines with glee That your heart writes And mine adores Such powerful writing a heart can display When a heart beats back in return How thrilling to peruse these pages each day Watch love growing As they turn
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Oct 19, 2010
Oct 19, 2010 at 1:23 PM UTC
Your Heart Writes - Mine Adores
For the past few weeks I noticed Concern The Fifth Crowned Angel whom I will call Great For Reasons which my own Mind tried to Learn And attempt to twist my Clock and my Fate Soon found your String was cut and justly lost Thinking one of my Dumb Spots was the Crime Or perhaps, Prunes, which spent your Meal at cost Left me with no Change to pay for my Time Why not? Strangers-by-Instinct I advise Since this Gadget sponsored the Miracle Which the Good Solicitor-in-Disguise Took my Guilty Plans to a Cubicle. Whichever it was, my Brow genuflect In Deepest Penance I earn your Respect.
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Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:12 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY: LAUREN ROBSON
I want to be a king, Not the king who wants to boast with the title attached to his name; Not the king to whom only exercise of power and authority is his aim; Not the king whose work is only meant to bring him fame; Not the king who will blame others but himself will he not blame. I want to be a king, The kind of king whose heart is broken when his people are in pain; The kind of king who considers the comfort of his people as great gain; The kind of king who will ensure that his people are never slain; The king who will encourage love among his people but hate he will restrain. I want to be a king, Whose interest is to search diligently to find something vital to do in a man’s life; A kind of king who will fight immorality and would not desire another man’s wife; A kind of king who will encourage peace among his people by authorizing that they put away strife; A king who could deprive himself of comfort if it means providing his people with a standard life. I want to be a king, The kind of king whose desire is not to be served but to serve; The king who will not withhold the wage of the poor but pay every man exactly what he deserves; The king who would rather die than see others starve; The king who will not divert or misuse the funds in his nation’s reserve. I want to be that king, Who will win the trust of his people only by being trustworthy; Who will place the interest and livelihood of his people firstly That king who will always represent his people by acting and speaking justly; The king who for the sake of the innocent, bring to judgement the guilty.
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Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 3:38 AM UTC
leadership
I want to be a king, Not the king who wants to boast with the title attached to his name; Not the king to whom only exercise of power and authority is his aim; Not the king whose work is only meant to bring him fame; Not the king who will blame others but himself will he not blame. I want to be a king, The kind of king whose heart is broken when his people are in pain; The kind of king who considers the comfort of his people as great gain; The kind of king who will ensure that his people are never slain; The king who will encourage love among his people but hate he will restrain. I want to be a king, Whose interest is to search diligently to find something vital to do in a man’s life; A kind of king who will fight immorality and would not desire another man’s wife; A kind of king who will encourage peace among his people by authorizing that they put away strife; A king who could deprive himself of comfort if it means providing his people with a standard life. I want to be a king, The kind of king whose desire is not to be served but to serve; The king who will not withhold the wage of the poor but pay every man exactly what he deserves; The king who would rather die than see others starve; The king who will not divert or misuse the funds in his nation’s reserve. I want to be that king, Who will win the trust of his people only by being trustworthy; Who will place the interest and livelihood of his people firstly That king who will always represent his people by acting and speaking justly; The king who for the sake of the innocent, bring to judgement the guilty.
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You said it,how you broke my heart every time we talk I break and cry I stop as I was so crazy to love To give all there is unconditionally burnt shatters and pieces evoke Now sat here at the cross legged bench this country oak that soothed misery the one with antique aesthetic split Overlooking the misused McDonald’s where ducks prey, play and swivel   by the bus stop where people load carrying suitcases to a distant destination Yet, never had I been broken in my life with lack of direction and unknown trauma lost 10 feet under the revolting grounds no apologies, no goodbye ,no explanation not another chance,nor another beat not a fiery fire, decrepit with the low blows   Now solitude is a glove that fits me It has justly put the pieces back together Washed the foolishness and carelessness For we are not made of bricks and blocks
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Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 3:30 PM UTC
Sat at the cross legged bench
read consistently, learn diligently, and write profusely so that beyond lifetimes of persistent practice produced from painful, arthritis-stricken fingers may you birth a humble book in its eternal years, as many mute manuscripts, it shall collect continents of dust until it finally bares relevance due by your unfortunate final, unheard breaths. but near such justly demise, you will rage and reach forth, to hope an innocent youth may learn the many mistakes collected and condensed from one life to years to weeks, summarized by your trembling hands. yet I fear, as you may too, that as we fade from existence, our voice echoes lost; our words unread forever, to exist untouched as a decorative piece on a pretentious bookshelf.
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Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 12:14 AM UTC
"A Decorative Piece on a Pretentious Bookshelf"
A cider and a minder Passing time as a reminder Pink glow and songs flow A waxy time erodes the mow Renegades and perspiration responds Swimming in winded seas of  Jordan Heated in space, evicted in their pace Libido fails as the liquor dilutes in taste Catch an esse as the moonlight smite Hold another to fake a romantic right Filter to the cards of ace as the one winks Emotive intruders farm in fields of pastures Imbued with alcoholic waterfalls Molehills of termites condense lose soil A lack of connection a taunt that apes Future anthems triumph in hungered strums Amused by the music erupting volcanoes A morrow blows as the candle slows To tow the tall grassed disused straw A spring to summer that promises sun rays A resolve to moderation to preserve modesty A kiss stored forever peeping the awing stars To guard a heart and hatch uniformity Trembles justly forgotten in termed premises
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Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 2:42 PM UTC
A Cider My Minder
Not in the object revered But in the imperfect beholder Glows the light of inspiration. Through eyelids facing west The auburn canvas spreads. Smell of damp pine needles Carried by the dry retreating winds. Not in the balance, do I marvel, But in the transience of the moment That threatens to justly divide The hours between light and dark. For strife is the eternal essence of life, Strength of my sinew, As I relentlessly roll the boulder And watch gravity undo my labour. But, there is no strife more revolting Than THIS. Cleaving ‘I’ from the rest And assuming superiority - An imperfect beholder.
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Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 2:59 PM UTC
Equinox
A crown made of pride glittering in the sunlight Atop the head of a king making short strides His eyes are dark cameras A mouth full of daggers, His arms are long chains that make his subjects stagger. A king! A king! So majestic is he He is righteous and justly! Or so he thinks.. Ruling a broken kingdom Subjects protest wise decisions and are punished on false or petty crimes A king! A king! always kind and intelligent Forget that his actions are belligerent
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Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 5:36 PM UTC
The Crown
How can Belfast be so cold? a breeze in a summer front the unpredictable British weather Of intermittent warmth and dull drizzles of a torrential fizzle The titanic stands erected stilled by the western winds In stiles as robust as steel as shadowy silverly specks reflect on the unused puddles Southwards to the coastal shores where green shimmers magnify and blue waters justly testifies of the beauty of the north-eastern waters flowing from one glen to another
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Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 5:10 AM UTC
Belfast
The spoken language of my indigenous tongue is unfamiliar with composing a complex signature of words. I am a justly man who only possess a singular thought at a time and my current thought comes unto me gravely. This note should be pretty easy to understand.      My evangelizing does not bound a union between a man and amen. Those fabricating words I once preached are as false as fish on grass. A paradox forms within myself. I am structured alike the absolute truth but I surely lie a fact. But I can no longer carry a deceit intention. Fool’s gold was at the end of the rainbow. And like a loyal dog, I followed with a wagged tail.       I believe hindsight is merely useless, now. I attest to seek truth as it appears but my eyes are blind with fury. I mistakenly remembered that vision is of faith rather than sight. I become a precise and selective balloter. I either speak its erroneousness existence upon them or become a subject of harsh matters.      The genesis Armageddon is occurring. Man falls to a higher sky because the mind of the body cannot outthink its own thought; therefore, it is the last transcendence. I kneel in solidarity amid the row of pews. Peace, be steel. For it will all cease, follow by a great calm.
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Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 1:32 AM UTC
7th Heaven
I have to admit That I immediately knew what the media meant As I grew up I drew out- Side lines Meaning kinds when you omit the 'n' so I'm sent To set askew a few lies, yes my butterfly knife flies like a feather pen oh I've been A berserker moving farther Further herding words heard for war it's forward But since before he was drafted roughly but justly Just to sink in ink engrafted ****** because he's Made for brigades who blockade it to shock it Force it shoot it and make it play its poor music to Bach it Oh face it, we rock it The battalion's out there and they're shouting I'm silent but they rattle Yeah my rabble of stallions, they're rowdy But of course, off course it is not all Norse my love because They say the other north Yeah your horizontal course turned up with a Tincture of madness And that is the one, single error and I'm glad of it If you catch it Maybe a troublemaker by nature but baby a peace speaker missing demeanor With misdemeanors when getting meaner But I practice a bit In an out-there train re-accident be- Cause the battalion's out there while they're shouting I'm silent but they rattle rapidly Yeah my rabble of battle lions rabid To vaporize vapid rabbits They're rowdy and And love is getting much louder than growling it's It's sounding much louder than growling
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May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
Berserker (Much Louder Than Growling)
Hey kid, I woke up buzzing, here In the future ruins of ancient America.  Staring, after the imperial sunrise, Listening to Los Angeles on repeat. Insistent and purple, only  Sediment left in the Bottles of night.  This third-world way Causes Third World War So I'm drinking at a  Tavern on the End. The bus goes by, and "Baseball's the worst sport." Alliteration, allusion, Colors, characters, And metaphors. Sobriety sending me  Searching for smoke.  Rehash, re-up, and "read the ****** thing." My world-view, Out-maneuvering your Upbringing. (The memories I have are white and yellow. Fogged, not angry, if even confused. You'd call me, after finishing your nightly readings, to cry about the characters you'd loved, and castigate my inability to care. Remember when you used "undermined" to describe the adaptation? You meant that it was "assuming too much.") "Brenda and Eddie," over here, "Couldn't go back to the greasers" so they Wound up at your family's tavern.  "You look like the fat kid, On whom the popular girl was  Forced to settle." Dear Man, Woman's found you out. Or  Are we, justly, doomed to be  More juvenile? Worn sole, soul-open, "so long, Kid, I don't know you, but, I can't help myself from Destroying you." (My upbringing: out-maneuvering Your world-view.) "You've always been the caretaker, Flagstaff." The bait's in your brain.  You've simply been  Overlooking the barkeep. (Dear Diary, could I just die already? The Price is Life, and purgatory's a game show. Anger, the color of your mother. Skin, the shade of yard-work. Staring at road maps of Virginia, stoic. Trying to divine the diners we'd die in.)
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Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 3:41 AM UTC
Assembled Apocalypse
Hey kid, I woke up buzzing, here In the future ruins of ancient America.  Staring, after the imperial sunrise, Listening to Los Angeles on repeat. Insistent and purple, only  Sediment left in the Bottles of night.  This third-world way Causes Third World War So I'm drinking at a  Tavern on the End. The bus goes by, and "Baseball's the worst sport." Alliteration, allusion, Colors, characters, And metaphors. Sobriety sending me  Searching for smoke.  Rehash, re-up, and "read the ****** thing." My world-view, Out-maneuvering your Upbringing. (The memories I have are white and yellow. Fogged, not angry, if even confused. You'd call me, after finishing your nightly readings, to cry about the characters you'd loved, and castigate my inability to care. Remember when you used "undermined" to describe the adaptation? You meant that it was "assuming too much.") "Brenda and Eddie," over here, "Couldn't go back to the greasers" so they Wound up at your family's tavern.  "You look like the fat kid, On whom the popular girl was  Forced to settle." Dear Man, Woman's found you out. Or  Are we, justly, doomed to be  More juvenile? Worn sole, soul-open, "so long, Kid, I don't know you, but, I can't help myself from Destroying you." (My upbringing: out-maneuvering Your world-view.) "You've always been the caretaker, Flagstaff." The bait's in your brain.  You've simply been  Overlooking the barkeep. (Dear Diary, could I just die already? The Price is Life, and purgatory's a game show. Anger, the color of your mother. Skin, the shade of yard-work. Staring at road maps of Virginia, stoic. Trying to divine the diners we'd die in.)
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If you’re going to judge me then judge me for who I am Judge me for how I act around you Judge me justly Judge me and keep in mind of the things that you’ve done Keep in your mind that you probably not any better than me When I curse, keep in mind that you probably have too When I burst out in rage at someone, keep in mind that you have done the same at one point When I slam my locker door, keep in mind that everyone has those bad days When I’m ignoring you, keep in mind that I’m not perfect When I disobey, keep in mind that you have, too When I’m sitting in silence, keep in mind I’m either thinking or I’m not in the mood to chat When I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to talk When you judge me, don’t judge me by who I hang out with Don’t judge me by just my negative actions Don’t judge me by just my positive actions Judge me by both my positive and negative reactions Judge me by who I am not who that other person is But before you judge me at all, get to know me well enough that you can judge me fairly
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Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 3:43 PM UTC
If You’re Going To Judge Me
Softly... even here the winds of change... breeze through. Destiny... and history... are turning... Cogs in place. *Hell...it actually feels like ... 1968!* The Hippies have all grow old and are now the voting majority. Think about it... They're rolling a doobie... and affecting real change... one organic, patchouli soaked volunteered, re-purposing project after another. The "big picture" is simply a poster... cut into small bite sized puzzle pieces... we are all skirting the edge... still unconnected. It is the age of... focusing, clearly... on purpose and integrity. The storm is clearing... and insight, has an electrical charge... zapping us all into action into submission into our future... The message thunders clearly... and resonates succinctly and justly... Calling for us all to...Do... "What you CAN DO... purposefully for-going... whatever it is, that you CAN"T DO" "I AM" becomes... We are... Maternal society yearns...deeply waiting for it's turn not asking permission... Just doing the next right thing... and taking the steps necessary... To be seen... far past equal... On the edges of unnoticed Dropping labels and be recognized for what I bring to the table... not whom.
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May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 9:59 PM UTC
Winds of Change...(it feels very 1968-ish)