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"kenneth" poems
Minsan ako'y naghahangad at nag nanais ng mga bagay-bagay na bihira ngunit hindi labis sa hating papel na takot sa kiskis ng lapis At dahil sa takot at pangamba ako at ang papel ay naging isa sa takot na masaktan ng tadhana at dahil sa mga salita'y naging dala nagpaka layo-layo kasabay ng agos ng hangin hindi alam na basa at gusot ang tatahakin alikabok at buhangin sabay sa buga ng hangin Ako sana'y patawarin bigyan pa ng kaunting pagpapahalaga sa aking damdamin kahit ano mang mangyari sa akin mabasa man o pagpunit-punitin ako ay papel pa rin. © 2018 Kenneth Bituin All Rights Reserved.
0
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 11:01 AM UTC
manipis na bagay
a ***** went partying in the club friday night where he met up with kenneth trying to ruin his rep party on yeah dude party on oh yeah party on yeah dude party on oh yeah a ***** went partying in the club friday night when he met up with susan who had some champagne she said, do you wanna share some of this the ***** said YES as a ***** went partying in the club friday night he met up with thomas who said just one word at a time which was party, the ***** said who with thomas said everybody oh yeah let’s party come on dudes, party a ***** went partying in the club friday night when he met up with brian with a bourbon and coke brian said, what do you want wild turkey or jim beam the ***** said, whatever you choose i’ll enjoy it, i guarantee it the ***** went partying in the club friday night when he met up with caleb who said, have you had enough the ***** said no, not yet i want to have 4 bottles of XXXX and sink them down with you the ***** went partying in the club friday night where he met up with peter who says PARTY ON MATE cause peter will drink any drink you put in front of him and sometimes he will take someone else’s drink like the yobbo’s so the ***** went partying down the club friday night and with all the alcohol he drank he gazed into the night and say, PARTY RIGHT, DUDES time to go home mr *****
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Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 8:03 AM UTC
the ***** went partying in the club friday night
Homage Kenneth Koch If I were doing my Laundry I'd wash my ***** Iran I'd throw in my United States, and pour on the Ivory Soap, scrub up Africa, put all the birds and elephants back in the jungle, I'd wash the Amazon river and clean the oily Carib & Gulf of Mexico, Rub that smog off the North Pole, wipe up all the pipelines in Alaska, Rub a dub dub for Rocky Flats and Los Alamos, Flush that sparkly Cesium out of Love Canal Rinse down the Acid Rain over the Parthenon & Sphinx, Drain the Sludge out of the Mediterranean basin & make it azure again, Put some blueing back into the sky over the Rhine, bleach the little Clouds so snow return white as snow, Cleanse the Hudson Thames & Neckar, Drain the Suds out of Lake Erie Then I'd throw big Asia in one giant Load & wash out the blood & Agent Orange, Dump the whole mess of Russia and China in the wringer, squeeze out the tattletail Gray of U.S. Central American police state, & put the planet in the drier & let it sit 20 minutes or an Aeon till it came out clean
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4.7k
Homework
Husbands, raise your hands Keep them up if you love your wife Keep them up if you colour your wifes hair Okay, this is for the three of us that are left.... I did my wife a favour As I do, because I can I help her when I'm able Not just because I am a man I **** bugs when requested I do the laundry like I should I clean the bathroom when it's ***** And by doing so , feel good Every few weeks I will help her Hide the grey that she can see I don't volunteer to do it But it's cheap to hire me A salon visit is expensive Doing hair, and waiting hours I just slip on my latex hand wear And I have a bag full of super powers Yes, I help my wife get couloured I take the time and do her hair I also, get it on the tiles Up the wall and on two chairs The dog gets covered just a little The rug, a window and the bed But, we always buy two packets So, there's enough to do her head I have a jacket slightly mottled It's got a few brown spots, some red I don't know exactly how it happened I even got some on our bed Just call me Mr. Kenneth In my jumpsuit doing hair I get it where I think she needs it And I spray it everywhere She comes out looking gorgeous She's always happy with the result She always looks a little different Like someone who believes in the occult If you're a husband who likes money Save it, colour your wife's hair Your part only takes ten minutes You need ten towels, one mask, one chair It brings us both closer together My arms look like a leopard skin All my shirts are slightly spotted But all those spots, make me look thin I've got to go now and get cleaned up The carpets ruined, so's the wood But, she's happy and we all know that If the wife is happy....all is good!
0
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 7:22 PM UTC
Doing the Wife's Hair
Husbands, raise your hands Keep them up if you love your wife Keep them up if you colour your wifes hair Okay, this is for the three of us that are left.... I did my wife a favour As I do, because I can I help her when I'm able Not just because I am a man I **** bugs when requested I do the laundry like I should I clean the bathroom when it's ***** And by doing so , feel good Every few weeks I will help her Hide the grey that she can see I don't volunteer to do it But it's cheap to hire me A salon visit is expensive Doing hair, and waiting hours I just slip on my latex hand wear And I have a bag full of super powers Yes, I help my wife get couloured I take the time and do her hair I also, get it on the tiles Up the wall and on two chairs The dog gets covered just a little The rug, a window and the bed But, we always buy two packets So, there's enough to do her head I have a jacket slightly mottled It's got a few brown spots, some red I don't know exactly how it happened I even got some on our bed Just call me Mr. Kenneth In my jumpsuit doing hair I get it where I think she needs it And I spray it everywhere She comes out looking gorgeous She's always happy with the result She always looks a little different Like someone who believes in the occult If you're a husband who likes money Save it, colour your wife's hair Your part only takes ten minutes You need ten towels, one mask, one chair It brings us both closer together My arms look like a leopard skin All my shirts are slightly spotted But all those spots, make me look thin I've got to go now and get cleaned up The carpets ruined, so's the wood But, she's happy and we all know that If the wife is happy....all is good!
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52
Drums of Autumn tell us, grandmother, what did they mean? Did you ever get the Lincoln cane? Did you cry? Kenny, I'as a orphan. I never knew. ---That happened, Kenny was my name. I looked past the rim, there was the Corn Mother, I think that's what I coulda seen, but then it's only Grandma, with a grin. Kenneth means know, Grandma said, I gave you that name. kenning handy, a knower, by God, not handsome in that vain way they have today, handy, winsome in puzzles 'n' riddles 'n' such Kokopelli's play mate, some day. Mistooken words rot, if they lie, idle, in the dust meaning nothing ever. I shall not want, I was taught a mistooken truth, I took it, gript it tight, Get a job. Live with some class, join a club that takes your kind. Some churches used to use the Rotary test, if you could pass that test you could eat, after the message at the mission. true? fair? goodwill? wait if the first test is failed, what matters? fair good will benes d'vitas? from the treaty bound liars who called my grand mothers savages, all of them, right by right of conquest. their treaty verified it to me, then they gave me blankets, General Leonardwood, nope, Lord Jeff Amherst did that, then we died. Read the treaty, 1763, small print. Blankets. From the small pox ward, went unsaid. That was just, after the French and Indian war, where the father of the force that claims world-wide military superiority sufficient unto the evil of today, George, the man on the horse, surveyor for the future, fought injuns, so the king could sell their measured land to freed slaves, thus making the mortgage chain, so popular today. Build a casino, get rich quick, it's in the treaty, lotsajobs, busboy, bus driver, maid, Sioux chef and so many, many more. Grandma, in my vision, turned and walked into the desert. I took her word. Brushed the dust and breathed it in. Then I spit against the wind, winked at you and rode my wind away. Free is easy, if you can ride on wind.
0
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 4:38 PM UTC
Mistooken lies in dust
Drums of Autumn tell us, grandmother, what did they mean? Did you ever get the Lincoln cane? Did you cry? Kenny, I'as a orphan. I never knew. ---That happened, Kenny was my name. I looked past the rim, there was the Corn Mother, I think that's what I coulda seen, but then it's only Grandma, with a grin. Kenneth means know, Grandma said, I gave you that name. kenning handy, a knower, by God, not handsome in that vain way they have today, handy, winsome in puzzles 'n' riddles 'n' such Kokopelli's play mate, some day. Mistooken words rot, if they lie, idle, in the dust meaning nothing ever. I shall not want, I was taught a mistooken truth, I took it, gript it tight, Get a job. Live with some class, join a club that takes your kind. Some churches used to use the Rotary test, if you could pass that test you could eat, after the message at the mission. true? fair? goodwill? wait if the first test is failed, what matters? fair good will benes d'vitas? from the treaty bound liars who called my grand mothers savages, all of them, right by right of conquest. their treaty verified it to me, then they gave me blankets, General Leonardwood, nope, Lord Jeff Amherst did that, then we died. Read the treaty, 1763, small print. Blankets. From the small pox ward, went unsaid. That was just, after the French and Indian war, where the father of the force that claims world-wide military superiority sufficient unto the evil of today, George, the man on the horse, surveyor for the future, fought injuns, so the king could sell their measured land to freed slaves, thus making the mortgage chain, so popular today. Build a casino, get rich quick, it's in the treaty, lotsajobs, busboy, bus driver, maid, Sioux chef and so many, many more. Grandma, in my vision, turned and walked into the desert. I took her word. Brushed the dust and breathed it in. Then I spit against the wind, winked at you and rode my wind away. Free is easy, if you can ride on wind.
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63
There once was a proper noun, who started hanging with the wrong crowd. With alluring adjectives who handed out compliments like candy − gob smacking gossipers with an opinion on everything. And with thrill-seeking adverbs, who buddied up to the most dangerous of companions; crash, dive, hurl, and gamble (to name a few). Until the day the sentence came rambling into town, planting punctuation in the form of kisses on the noun’s eyelids, earlobes, and collarbone. Provoking such admissions as, “My thighs stuck to the black leather seats under the hot, cloudy skies of that August afternoon, and my hair whipped like willow branches in the wind, when I rode on the back of his motorcycle.” or, “He greets me every morning with a sun-drenched kiss”, and, “The tulips were picked fresh from the ditch of a curvy, country road, but now sit in a vase by my bed, and are slowly wilting away.” It would eventually be made clear that the sentence had a nasty habit of propositioning prepositions, only to leave them hanging, and to place things in parenthesis, that simply did not belong.   And so, the sentence would wind up leaving town, or “run-on”, as the noun liked to tell it. Went chasing after some particularly provocative expletives, eventually trailing off with a faint set of ellipsis... And the kindest of adjectives came cooing after the noun, calling to her; lovely, lustrous, listless. And the adverbs brought with them their gentlest of friends; comfort and console, to speak with the noun: softly, tenderly, lovingly- all witnesses. But it was of no use, and the noun whispered quietly: “I have been enchanted with a single kiss which can never be undone, until the destruction of language.” *based off of the poem Permanently, by Kenneth Koch
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Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 4:24 PM UTC
Structure
There once was a proper noun, who started hanging with the wrong crowd. With alluring adjectives who handed out compliments like candy − gob smacking gossipers with an opinion on everything. And with thrill-seeking adverbs, who buddied up to the most dangerous of companions; crash, dive, hurl, and gamble (to name a few). Until the day the sentence came rambling into town, planting punctuation in the form of kisses on the noun’s eyelids, earlobes, and collarbone. Provoking such admissions as, “My thighs stuck to the black leather seats under the hot, cloudy skies of that August afternoon, and my hair whipped like willow branches in the wind, when I rode on the back of his motorcycle.” or, “He greets me every morning with a sun-drenched kiss”, and, “The tulips were picked fresh from the ditch of a curvy, country road, but now sit in a vase by my bed, and are slowly wilting away.” It would eventually be made clear that the sentence had a nasty habit of propositioning prepositions, only to leave them hanging, and to place things in parenthesis, that simply did not belong.   And so, the sentence would wind up leaving town, or “run-on”, as the noun liked to tell it. Went chasing after some particularly provocative expletives, eventually trailing off with a faint set of ellipsis... And the kindest of adjectives came cooing after the noun, calling to her; lovely, lustrous, listless. And the adverbs brought with them their gentlest of friends; comfort and console, to speak with the noun: softly, tenderly, lovingly- all witnesses. But it was of no use, and the noun whispered quietly: “I have been enchanted with a single kiss which can never be undone, until the destruction of language.” *based off of the poem Permanently, by Kenneth Koch
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42
there's no point writing out what poetry is... if you don't actually write it. a whiskey prior noon, too soon, too soon, too soon? i'll be cooking a turkey curry later, a whiskey prior noon, too soon, too soon, too soon?! rhyme or rhythmic, perhaps the latter in Dante's trinity of rhymes - poetry of the near-illiterate, who never read as much as could have been - thinking it out as origin and originals - a man without influence is not worth reciting -                                    he'll still have to borrow the life of a Henry VIII somehow, whether he has or hasn't read a book concerning the man - while the Vatican emerges as the gossip library of all the European royal families, and indeed Henry VIII dubbed Anne Boleyn's cow dangler ******* duckies - i think it's due to the fact he quacked while he suckled the ******* like a pre-mature **** not producing ***** - seriously, no milk; and as honesty goes, ********** literature does it for me, patron saint kenneth rexroth - self-education moulds the self into a pristine sequence of surprises - there the pop of a balloon, there the weeping clown... there the giraffe on stilts! indeed even at university entry point where i deposited my self i came back with debts! idiotic treachery of teaching the politicised version of language, as language per se simply called grammatically sound, in politics simply versed "correct"; two satans from Syria while Solomon had his harem,                           a third from Poland, they say the holocaust, 6 million if not more citizens of the world with polish passports - mind you they took the Diogenes quote into left and right parallel readied for a march - Apollo listened then laughed at the failures counting to 13 - laughing while the words 'too the moon!' were eased out from his helium filled lungs.
0
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 6:11 AM UTC
if i can't strut like a peacock, i'll croak like a crow
there's no point writing out what poetry is... if you don't actually write it. a whiskey prior noon, too soon, too soon, too soon? i'll be cooking a turkey curry later, a whiskey prior noon, too soon, too soon, too soon?! rhyme or rhythmic, perhaps the latter in Dante's trinity of rhymes - poetry of the near-illiterate, who never read as much as could have been - thinking it out as origin and originals - a man without influence is not worth reciting -                                    he'll still have to borrow the life of a Henry VIII somehow, whether he has or hasn't read a book concerning the man - while the Vatican emerges as the gossip library of all the European royal families, and indeed Henry VIII dubbed Anne Boleyn's cow dangler ******* duckies - i think it's due to the fact he quacked while he suckled the ******* like a pre-mature **** not producing ***** - seriously, no milk; and as honesty goes, ********** literature does it for me, patron saint kenneth rexroth - self-education moulds the self into a pristine sequence of surprises - there the pop of a balloon, there the weeping clown... there the giraffe on stilts! indeed even at university entry point where i deposited my self i came back with debts! idiotic treachery of teaching the politicised version of language, as language per se simply called grammatically sound, in politics simply versed "correct"; two satans from Syria while Solomon had his harem,                           a third from Poland, they say the holocaust, 6 million if not more citizens of the world with polish passports - mind you they took the Diogenes quote into left and right parallel readied for a march - Apollo listened then laughed at the failures counting to 13 - laughing while the words 'too the moon!' were eased out from his helium filled lungs.
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54
Peter Pan Swore Peter Pan swore we’d never age if we, just believed, but everyday the fairytales fade away like little fallen fireflies, instead wrinkles and stress introduce new heartaches... no time for childishness whenever time smolders james kenneth blaylock 6-24-21
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Sep 27, 2021
Sep 27, 2021 at 12:22 PM UTC
Peter Pan Swore
"Where literature is concerned, I will not cooperate at all": A mind resolutely turned From the social crusades of fall. Seventy-eight years later I agree with the "dilettante"; Twenty-five years cater To reclusion in a shanty, "Writing frightening verse To a straight-toothed dude In New York." Curse My reckless solitude!
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 2:59 PM UTC
Birthday Poem, Beginning with a Phrase of Yvor Winters' from a Letter Written to Kenneth Rexroth and Almost Ending with an Altered Lyric of Steven Morrissey's
Time disappears silently like the cryptical fog at dawn! Reality twisted for a moment without feign; what seemed to wait for ages is now drawn closer! Flanked by an overwhelming urgency Glossier! To give and to share this flash of fragility Were tomorrow...befits a charming after-tale of yesterday; With summer blossoms kissed by the mild long awaited reign Of the dusky aureate nobleness of men and women, spellbinding-like a magnificent gold plated gemstone Sealing this moment of a sweet clandestine sparkle grinning in the lonesome orchid garden; Wooing Romeo and Juliet like the equinox sun........ Muhumuza Kenneth Ezra.
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May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 3:55 AM UTC
~Cacoethes~
Lest!   Passions! Exist,      desist not let          thresholds of passions.               Vikings yet…                   Kings regard King Arthur,                       snow white snow flakes glisten,                         “winter, the snow-cold thaw”                               Spring chime of Big Ben!                                     succinct debonair benevolence.                                         Pedantic pedagogue                                             of impudence of More Thomas!                                                passions of Love, unity, solidarity.                                                   a blend of humane, man, men.                                                        Mortals!                                                           Behold!                                                             Love,                                                                Love,                                                                   Love,                                                                      Love! Muhumuza Kenneth Ezra
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May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 3:48 AM UTC
~Passions of Humane mortals~
Lest!   Passions! Exist,      desist not let          thresholds of passions.               Vikings yet…                   Kings regard King Arthur,                       snow white snow flakes glisten,                         “winter, the snow-cold thaw”                               Spring chime of Big Ben!                                     succinct debonair benevolence.                                         Pedantic pedagogue                                             of impudence of More Thomas!                                                passions of Love, unity, solidarity.                                                   a blend of humane, man, men.                                                        Mortals!                                                           Behold!                                                             Love,                                                                Love,                                                                   Love,                                                                      Love! Muhumuza Kenneth Ezra
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Summoned at an elevation of a height The ensuing plodding gloomy twilight, and sweet sound of the night cricket denoting yet another moment of Peace after the bust, from the twiddling day in haste, now the full Moon smiles in glee in a split second above the fig tree Tally-Ho!!...the startling howl of the fox in the dark at three… Scintillating tales about Angels of the night… Dazzling as emerald gemstones Speaking to awakening sons of men to affirm… The third unseen soothing divine presence Basking in the resplendent mysterious Peace of dusk grandeur….. Kenneth Muhumuza.
0
May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 3:57 AM UTC
~Dusk Grandeur~
party zone with johnny brown johnny’ hi dudes and welcime to the 2nd party zone for 2016 and tonight we are going to party real hard and our first party dude is lorraine lorraine’ i want to be so happy i want to be so cool i want to drink scotch on the rocks following a lovely bbq i am very happy as happy as can be i don’t know why i am so happy i only know i am, party on dudes johnny’ yeah you look like you are ready to party tonight lorraine’ it’s the end of the working week, why not johnny’ ok here is patric weezer pattrick’ one sheep two fish red fish blue fish going ba ba ba every ****** where five sheep six sheep silver sheep black sheep you see it’s hard to become the black sheep of the family nine fish ten fish isn’t that a dainty dish to put before prince william on the way to buckingham palace today eleven fish twelve fish i wonder who i will find at the party for my best mate tom it’s fine to have fish, especially down the coast with chips johnny’ are you creative patrick’ yeah, i am an artist and a writer and a youtube entertainer, i am cool johnny’ ok here is harry with a great rhyme dave bought a honday for his best friend rhonda to make her pretty wealthy dave bought a honda and he will make it a party yeah, we will get down and boogie and say oh lay hey little old lady pretty pretty baby saying dave bought a honda for his aunty flo who went home to make pumpkin scones for joh but joh didn’t want any cause he ws too right wing dave bought a honda from adelaide and every night we say dave bought a honda for everyone around oh dude johnny’ yeah what a great one, but your choice of politicians, ya know a bit old and dead harry’ yeah, but i am 56 years old and i still want to party johnny’ here is another party song from kenneth kenneth’ 16 pounds to buy a car with it is a very cheap car if it costs that much a dollar bill to buy a car mat cause it really protects your car floor and aussie cent ain’t around anymore, cause it can’t afford anything no fear, so chuck it away my friend a japanese coin is a wonderful coin i notice how there is a hole in the middle, to stick your finger in, yeah $16 is a lot ya see you could buy an expensive tub of honey from the bee so if you spend all this money now just remember the tune from hello in the ‘80s with oh yeah bow bow johnny’ thank you kenneth kenneth, yeah, and i am ready to pardddy, now party dudes, have the best hangover cure if you are totally wasted tomorrow johnny’ thank you kenneth and thanks dudes for enjoying party zone catch ya later dudes
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Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 6:11 AM UTC
party zone with johnny brown part 2, 5 february 2016
party zone with johnny brown johnny’ hi dudes and welcime to the 2nd party zone for 2016 and tonight we are going to party real hard and our first party dude is lorraine lorraine’ i want to be so happy i want to be so cool i want to drink scotch on the rocks following a lovely bbq i am very happy as happy as can be i don’t know why i am so happy i only know i am, party on dudes johnny’ yeah you look like you are ready to party tonight lorraine’ it’s the end of the working week, why not johnny’ ok here is patric weezer pattrick’ one sheep two fish red fish blue fish going ba ba ba every ****** where five sheep six sheep silver sheep black sheep you see it’s hard to become the black sheep of the family nine fish ten fish isn’t that a dainty dish to put before prince william on the way to buckingham palace today eleven fish twelve fish i wonder who i will find at the party for my best mate tom it’s fine to have fish, especially down the coast with chips johnny’ are you creative patrick’ yeah, i am an artist and a writer and a youtube entertainer, i am cool johnny’ ok here is harry with a great rhyme dave bought a honday for his best friend rhonda to make her pretty wealthy dave bought a honda and he will make it a party yeah, we will get down and boogie and say oh lay hey little old lady pretty pretty baby saying dave bought a honda for his aunty flo who went home to make pumpkin scones for joh but joh didn’t want any cause he ws too right wing dave bought a honda from adelaide and every night we say dave bought a honda for everyone around oh dude johnny’ yeah what a great one, but your choice of politicians, ya know a bit old and dead harry’ yeah, but i am 56 years old and i still want to party johnny’ here is another party song from kenneth kenneth’ 16 pounds to buy a car with it is a very cheap car if it costs that much a dollar bill to buy a car mat cause it really protects your car floor and aussie cent ain’t around anymore, cause it can’t afford anything no fear, so chuck it away my friend a japanese coin is a wonderful coin i notice how there is a hole in the middle, to stick your finger in, yeah $16 is a lot ya see you could buy an expensive tub of honey from the bee so if you spend all this money now just remember the tune from hello in the ‘80s with oh yeah bow bow johnny’ thank you kenneth kenneth, yeah, and i am ready to pardddy, now party dudes, have the best hangover cure if you are totally wasted tomorrow johnny’ thank you kenneth and thanks dudes for enjoying party zone catch ya later dudes
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for Kenneth LaRosh "All are clear, I alone am clouded." -- Lao Tzu Those definite days, when I still fooled Myself into unnatural mind-states, When I knew myself, but tricked Others obliviously-- Those days be ****** Now, my thoughts racked With an equivocal polarity, My heart uncertain to its very core, I walk, Reborn in ignorance, Clouded, yet not unclear.
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May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 8:56 PM UTC
Reborn in Ignorance
Spells of chieftain splendor Bespeaking of loyal grandeur Now the eye clearly sees without fear At dusk! The ancient kingdom of Assur? A flight in time and space from afar? Was that ingenious creativity of flair? Still bids indubitable eternal mystery! Are clothes on man an anecdote of utter hypocrisy? Is sarcastic humor a precursor of hidden sinister? The animals hereof show their ****** Undertone tinges of impeccant simplicity Stirring poignant Achilles' heel character As an infant suckling the breast of saccharine nature; Lo! And behold… Sage mortals envisage a grotesque quest for a promising stage, Regnant and dignified? The new-age psyches’ beatify and feebly beg "Reform, in fact, is, rather softly, on the win” The lighthouse flashing against the sleet-blurred fig twig As every sacred notion becomes an unwavering origin certain, With no remorse that mankind can now ascertain The bewildering incarnation of science in religion! Like a single lily among lilies in a dark dungeon Great spirits now encounter violent opposition “Un-awakened Children silently screaming with pessimism” Hiding within the smooth sacred mask of personality Yet the fear of “the unknown” silently plays a drowsier symphony Calling back the violent rays to illuminate a peaceable destiny Were illusionary realities conform to the whims of a veiled deity, This goddess! A mystifying inferno doing its own radiance faster What a fuss! So light-footed as love yet so heavy-footed as war As if to justify the whirling gloom of despair Like the bleakness of the morning cuckooing rooster Or the dog which barks at his own image in a pond; “What startling veneration” Mortals without remorse still aspire to find The misplaced diamonds and daffs upon the beamish ground. Muhumuza Kenneth Ezra.
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May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 3:46 AM UTC
~Gloaming imaginings~
Spells of chieftain splendor Bespeaking of loyal grandeur Now the eye clearly sees without fear At dusk! The ancient kingdom of Assur? A flight in time and space from afar? Was that ingenious creativity of flair? Still bids indubitable eternal mystery! Are clothes on man an anecdote of utter hypocrisy? Is sarcastic humor a precursor of hidden sinister? The animals hereof show their ****** Undertone tinges of impeccant simplicity Stirring poignant Achilles' heel character As an infant suckling the breast of saccharine nature; Lo! And behold… Sage mortals envisage a grotesque quest for a promising stage, Regnant and dignified? The new-age psyches’ beatify and feebly beg "Reform, in fact, is, rather softly, on the win” The lighthouse flashing against the sleet-blurred fig twig As every sacred notion becomes an unwavering origin certain, With no remorse that mankind can now ascertain The bewildering incarnation of science in religion! Like a single lily among lilies in a dark dungeon Great spirits now encounter violent opposition “Un-awakened Children silently screaming with pessimism” Hiding within the smooth sacred mask of personality Yet the fear of “the unknown” silently plays a drowsier symphony Calling back the violent rays to illuminate a peaceable destiny Were illusionary realities conform to the whims of a veiled deity, This goddess! A mystifying inferno doing its own radiance faster What a fuss! So light-footed as love yet so heavy-footed as war As if to justify the whirling gloom of despair Like the bleakness of the morning cuckooing rooster Or the dog which barks at his own image in a pond; “What startling veneration” Mortals without remorse still aspire to find The misplaced diamonds and daffs upon the beamish ground. Muhumuza Kenneth Ezra.
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41
Caught an intellect from the beams of a flashin' tech Skies open fools still hopin' more corrupt than Kenneth Copeland yo I ain't Jokin' words carefully spoken From Houston to Oakland me ghettos we all kin Born in sin so I was made for lusting put my trust in My nine millimeter soon to beat cha if ya Not fast with ya draw man this a southside gang And We running thangs comin' back on track like a boomerang Haters love to sing chirpin' like early birds I move the herds the black Sheppard testing nerves Check my lac banked on the curb hit a taste of the herb To calm my brain cells light a fire see visions of Hell I inhale free my mind from jail caught in this fairy tale Thought this world was made for me but it ain't see? The devil's laughing at me cuz I  took the plea of insanity Expose my mind through pens and papers Towerin' empires past the skyscrapers traces of flowin' vapors Disappear then reappear back on the atmosphere But still i ain't here a ghost in a shell Pass the seven gates of chakras cells Gather my intel from my enemies that sail Undercover lover to ya mother mentally See me I create energy powerful enough To call out any bluff keep it rough and rugged So **** it since most chicken ya feathers Gettin' plucked givin' up the what? The funk that is From Rosemary's kids made in Hades Check the tens bumpin' in the Mercedes I'm old school rock big jewels pinky rings Diamond bezels shining and still blinding Sip Tennessee whiskey out the glass cup Flashback it's the return of King Tut Speak bad watch the raw clips keep ya mouth shut
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Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 9:31 PM UTC
ReezonZ Or RhimeZ
Caught an intellect from the beams of a flashin' tech Skies open fools still hopin' more corrupt than Kenneth Copeland yo I ain't Jokin' words carefully spoken From Houston to Oakland me ghettos we all kin Born in sin so I was made for lusting put my trust in My nine millimeter soon to beat cha if ya Not fast with ya draw man this a southside gang And We running thangs comin' back on track like a boomerang Haters love to sing chirpin' like early birds I move the herds the black Sheppard testing nerves Check my lac banked on the curb hit a taste of the herb To calm my brain cells light a fire see visions of Hell I inhale free my mind from jail caught in this fairy tale Thought this world was made for me but it ain't see? The devil's laughing at me cuz I  took the plea of insanity Expose my mind through pens and papers Towerin' empires past the skyscrapers traces of flowin' vapors Disappear then reappear back on the atmosphere But still i ain't here a ghost in a shell Pass the seven gates of chakras cells Gather my intel from my enemies that sail Undercover lover to ya mother mentally See me I create energy powerful enough To call out any bluff keep it rough and rugged So **** it since most chicken ya feathers Gettin' plucked givin' up the what? The funk that is From Rosemary's kids made in Hades Check the tens bumpin' in the Mercedes I'm old school rock big jewels pinky rings Diamond bezels shining and still blinding Sip Tennessee whiskey out the glass cup Flashback it's the return of King Tut Speak bad watch the raw clips keep ya mouth shut
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48
the girl down the road sold her love and Nicholas never liked chocolate so I bought him a lolly when he came over to visit me and my parrot Alicia and my dog Kenneth named after the children who jumped from the bridge I always passed to and from from work the train was a putrid colour with putrid smells and the hippie who sat across from me wore crosses around his ankles his name was Jim and in winters when it was cold he would offer me a Styrofoam cup of tea from the bakery three stops before mine and the orange of the train wouldn’t look so putrid anymore and I scuffed my shoes on the cobblestones and ignored the lineouleum stains and waited for spring to rebirth flowers I would pick (illegally) again
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Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 2:15 AM UTC
the orange train in the winter
(A Poem about HIV/AIDS & how humanity has dealt with it since its mysterious onset-and the future too…) The mystifying howl is still irksomely faint yet vividly heard, Akin to orchestrated footsteps of the undetectable command As the new twilight tries to light-down the “smoldering fire” beyond the horizon… It’s just so violent and it has been destroying everyone Generations “screaming too loud” and many fallen It has been “too thunderous”-“too rowdy”: it has stolen From humanity-the Joy to enlighten-a Truth to reign- A divine right of our existence here-but this pain… Through our deepest thoughts-and dreams gone Because of the “Teardrops and caskets”-loosing our own To this “brutal-fierce beast” who “eats” without remorse and direction- Evading all “the hunter’s Traps” to pursue an exuberate mission…. Life gets risky sometimes! Are we now left with “frozen wrists”? Or do we continue laying “stronger bricks”? To lay a universal foundation with hooks That will keep us together like strong rocks- Even though we’ve suffered from “shell-shocks”- …Which has only answered mother-nature’s call to catch Humanity twice as much-and wish thrice as such For a better day-a bunch Of signs to watch…. Even though the “streams of tears” continue to drive Mortals to an “invisible-penitentiary” without Love; Perhaps one day-The “Light” will save Us out of this awkward predicament-similar to a bee-hive Through all this “fire and smoke”-when everyday is a test- We can only control our mental-states: settle down and just set it straight, Else this classical tale of “Loss-Vs-Triumph” will be a total waste- Though some souls have learnt to take a second to “pump the brakes and wait”; Will it be too late when they wake up-to let their “dreams-of triumph”….escalate- Amidst so many trials and failures-making it hard to tolerate An “Enemy” who attacks without warning-to even hate On the most innocent “creation of nature”-an infant! Though everybody dies-The “Dream of Triumph” is still straight… Muhumuza Kenneth Ezra
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May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 3:53 AM UTC
Triumph or Loss! Humanity’s voyage to a New Dawn...
(A Poem about HIV/AIDS & how humanity has dealt with it since its mysterious onset-and the future too…) The mystifying howl is still irksomely faint yet vividly heard, Akin to orchestrated footsteps of the undetectable command As the new twilight tries to light-down the “smoldering fire” beyond the horizon… It’s just so violent and it has been destroying everyone Generations “screaming too loud” and many fallen It has been “too thunderous”-“too rowdy”: it has stolen From humanity-the Joy to enlighten-a Truth to reign- A divine right of our existence here-but this pain… Through our deepest thoughts-and dreams gone Because of the “Teardrops and caskets”-loosing our own To this “brutal-fierce beast” who “eats” without remorse and direction- Evading all “the hunter’s Traps” to pursue an exuberate mission…. Life gets risky sometimes! Are we now left with “frozen wrists”? Or do we continue laying “stronger bricks”? To lay a universal foundation with hooks That will keep us together like strong rocks- Even though we’ve suffered from “shell-shocks”- …Which has only answered mother-nature’s call to catch Humanity twice as much-and wish thrice as such For a better day-a bunch Of signs to watch…. Even though the “streams of tears” continue to drive Mortals to an “invisible-penitentiary” without Love; Perhaps one day-The “Light” will save Us out of this awkward predicament-similar to a bee-hive Through all this “fire and smoke”-when everyday is a test- We can only control our mental-states: settle down and just set it straight, Else this classical tale of “Loss-Vs-Triumph” will be a total waste- Though some souls have learnt to take a second to “pump the brakes and wait”; Will it be too late when they wake up-to let their “dreams-of triumph”….escalate- Amidst so many trials and failures-making it hard to tolerate An “Enemy” who attacks without warning-to even hate On the most innocent “creation of nature”-an infant! Though everybody dies-The “Dream of Triumph” is still straight… Muhumuza Kenneth Ezra
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37
Non-plagiarized success, Catholic is! ecumenical unity writhe: eternal rock beneath, my Love is “LOVE” Wuthering heights, Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte, Connotation, religion Connotation? motions of humane spirit guile not, vile not. Agile is Catholic acumen unity acumen? Salvation of human hearts heights and hearth. “Love one another” An angel begat the scepter of Lords. Heavens Love! Love…behold acumen! Catholics, the Holy Lord is our shepherd. Muhumuza Kenneth Ezra (Inspired by Stephern Tweheyo)
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May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 3:44 AM UTC
~Catholic Acumen~
Talk about an adventure__ This is “Dragon Land”… Here, “dragons” are not imagination… They really exist… If you don’t tame “the dragon in your adventure” It will “eat” you… And if you don’t “tame the dragon” You get to fly on “its back” wherever you want to go…. There are many “swords” But there’s 1 sword with such “Unbelievable powers”___ “The Sword of Clarity” We all have it but are “afraid” of it… Some are not afraid of “the dragon”… But they should be__ Because “the dragon” has only 1 mission in mind: “Food” If you are not careful—some of your “most treasured” Things will be “taken away” from you You are the “Protector, The Knight” in Shinning armor of this “battle” You have the “Sword of Clarity” that can make everything right— So why are you afraid of pulling it out?..... Muhumuza Kenneth Ezra
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May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 3:50 AM UTC
The “Sword-Of-Clarity”
*pyramid, is that short of pencil-sharpener, an unmovable object, a Nevada experiment... (prolonged pause, also intended for a humidity of the questioning affect). quiet frankly you're making us look quiet silly give the mammalian status of sapiens; fuck's sake, Pythagoras spent a whole eternity contemplating a hypotenuse looking at the chiselled mountains of Giza - reputation wise you give monkeys a bad slogan - i.e. we evolved, evolved to build a temple of perpetual death: each slab housed the body of a labourer, and inside we just found a lot of poisonous powder ruminating to find the only basis for encrypting the whole affair, metaphysical borders, metaphysical by which i mean, due to Egyptology we have the museum-state that's Egypt, and the real life assertions without mint-condition comic book cults of mausoleum-states, known as Libya, Sudan and Israel; on that basis, a chicken and egg question, within etymological parameters, what came first, museum or mausoleum? see, history can be a Tchaikovsky affair, given etymology a dense shortening - a solid, rather than a **** when it comes to nationhood and patriotism and adherence to.* a U.F.O. could have landed and we'd still be printing dollars bills and admiring that **** montem*, seriously, bring out a pencil sharpener, we need to revise Mont Blanc, more like Mont Bonkers - a white kite hey hey ** **** retardo* and a *** and a singalong that Napoleon never spotted: the Ramones with pet cemetary - that's how it's in Englanf (no speel or spelling mistake, impromptu arcadia, banishing the surds stemming from Hay, or a needle in the stack), a tombstone for each house what would have been, the riddle of life with the priority of death having seconds - the nørden of Newcastle will know, that the soofern fairies are all Arab or Tsar pawnbrokers or transvestites (as they respected Kenneth Rexroth, but Proust incubated in only two volumes just ain't for me).
0
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 10:46 AM UTC
Pythagoras in Egypt
*pyramid, is that short of pencil-sharpener, an unmovable object, a Nevada experiment... (prolonged pause, also intended for a humidity of the questioning affect). quiet frankly you're making us look quiet silly give the mammalian status of sapiens; fuck's sake, Pythagoras spent a whole eternity contemplating a hypotenuse looking at the chiselled mountains of Giza - reputation wise you give monkeys a bad slogan - i.e. we evolved, evolved to build a temple of perpetual death: each slab housed the body of a labourer, and inside we just found a lot of poisonous powder ruminating to find the only basis for encrypting the whole affair, metaphysical borders, metaphysical by which i mean, due to Egyptology we have the museum-state that's Egypt, and the real life assertions without mint-condition comic book cults of mausoleum-states, known as Libya, Sudan and Israel; on that basis, a chicken and egg question, within etymological parameters, what came first, museum or mausoleum? see, history can be a Tchaikovsky affair, given etymology a dense shortening - a solid, rather than a **** when it comes to nationhood and patriotism and adherence to.* a U.F.O. could have landed and we'd still be printing dollars bills and admiring that **** montem*, seriously, bring out a pencil sharpener, we need to revise Mont Blanc, more like Mont Bonkers - a white kite hey hey ** **** retardo* and a *** and a singalong that Napoleon never spotted: the Ramones with pet cemetary - that's how it's in Englanf (no speel or spelling mistake, impromptu arcadia, banishing the surds stemming from Hay, or a needle in the stack), a tombstone for each house what would have been, the riddle of life with the priority of death having seconds - the nørden of Newcastle will know, that the soofern fairies are all Arab or Tsar pawnbrokers or transvestites (as they respected Kenneth Rexroth, but Proust incubated in only two volumes just ain't for me).
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19
I'm not farther from death than you are, Tender leaf, slender branch. We all live very close to it. But my heart has been salvaged. It's nearly off the map. The heart doesn't reason this way In every man. It doesn't take wings From its subterranean shell like this. You are the stars of night, You are the tree, a ballerina Of grace. I'm the root. Now you are exhausted. You say your load was too heavy. I forgave you, but you failed To listen to me, drifting into your life Of earnest foliage and birds' nests. What were you saying to me, To the one who always redeems Fear has left you just skin and bones Look: you are the one being tested And tried. I am the root. You close your windows feeling Diminished, belittled. Your tiny world is fast disappearing Into my immense space. I don't know you well, But I wasn't so crowded Just a little bit earlier. You're a bullet in the barrel, An irrelevant splash. I am the root. The dead summoned their courage And gathered to find arbitrarily, in one another Love never seen before, All-encompassing love without boundaries. Maybe something will occur in the end Your farewell imagined its own reality. Your mouth said: I am taking wings, I'm contemplating. I am a long and narrow road, And will be closed down sooner or later. I am the most disloyal traitor To face your mask. Look now: Your specter is lost inside me, As if it had disappeared into a mirror. You did this. You offered thousands of lies to me Instead of the truth. Death smiled as a way to humiliate. I know The earth. I am the root. Koray Feyiz (Translated from Turkish by Dr.Nesrin Eruysal & Prof.Dr. Kenneth Rosen)
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Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 6:13 PM UTC
I AM THE ROOT
I'm not farther from death than you are, Tender leaf, slender branch. We all live very close to it. But my heart has been salvaged. It's nearly off the map. The heart doesn't reason this way In every man. It doesn't take wings From its subterranean shell like this. You are the stars of night, You are the tree, a ballerina Of grace. I'm the root. Now you are exhausted. You say your load was too heavy. I forgave you, but you failed To listen to me, drifting into your life Of earnest foliage and birds' nests. What were you saying to me, To the one who always redeems Fear has left you just skin and bones Look: you are the one being tested And tried. I am the root. You close your windows feeling Diminished, belittled. Your tiny world is fast disappearing Into my immense space. I don't know you well, But I wasn't so crowded Just a little bit earlier. You're a bullet in the barrel, An irrelevant splash. I am the root. The dead summoned their courage And gathered to find arbitrarily, in one another Love never seen before, All-encompassing love without boundaries. Maybe something will occur in the end Your farewell imagined its own reality. Your mouth said: I am taking wings, I'm contemplating. I am a long and narrow road, And will be closed down sooner or later. I am the most disloyal traitor To face your mask. Look now: Your specter is lost inside me, As if it had disappeared into a mirror. You did this. You offered thousands of lies to me Instead of the truth. Death smiled as a way to humiliate. I know The earth. I am the root. Koray Feyiz (Translated from Turkish by Dr.Nesrin Eruysal & Prof.Dr. Kenneth Rosen)
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53
there are ants crawling in and out of my hollow eyes they're having a picnic inside of my skull they've invited all of their cousins and brothers and sisters aunt kenneth is punching holes in my rotting brain because her hormones are out of balance after the operation rambunctious young twins cassie and brett just knocked over the potato salad which intermingles with the mush in my head did you hear? yoana eloped with a beetle left her ailing mother all alone to raise two kids and she's just shown up all alone with a dismal pack of beer and a sagging demeanor to show for herself sandra says that her lover must have left her and who did she think she was, leaving everything she's ever known and now she's come crawling back-- back to my rotting skull
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Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 6:08 PM UTC
Family Reunion
If any one should wish to get “The Divine Kingdom” for “self” And to effect this by what “self” does for the expected “wreath”- ***** will not succeed at both. The “Divine Kingdom” is a “Spirit like Thing” or path And can’t be got by “active doing” in sooth! ***** who would so win it-destroys it; ***** who would hold it in his/her grasp-loses it Who knows his “manhood’s strength” Yet still his “female feebleness” maintains; As to one “channel” flow the “many drains” All come to him/her-yeah! All beneath the sky Yet still many continue to ask of “The Void”-Why? Thus the constant excellence retains The simple “Indigo Child” again-free from all “stains” Behold….. The course & nature of things is such that- What was “in front” is now “behind” What was warmed anon-we freezing find, Strength is of weakness on the toil; The store in ruins mocks our toil The soft overcomes the hard- The weak surmounts the strong And the “magnificent castles” are revealed from the “morning fog”…. Muhumuza Kenneth Ezra
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May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 3:51 AM UTC
~The “Divine Kingdom”~
Why muffle nature’s cause For a second chance? To heal a soul returning to light plus Bespeaking an impending course Predetermined in time and space That this voguish emotion may win benevolence Explaining such a remarkable science! “The Science of Love” That protects humanity twice As much… And warms the rousing soul thrice As such… Muhumuza Kenneth Ezra.
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May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 3:39 AM UTC
~Return to Unconditional Love~