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They said she was a strange girl
The odd one out in any group
Dressed in black, like a vampire
So they threw stones at her

She liked to listen to Heavy Rock
While they listened to the lastest Pop
Spat at her, rubbed things in her hair
Called her bad names and dragged her down

She excelled at school. she did her best
She was always the top of her class
Still they would make her life a misery
Tears would stain her black eye liner

Her parents found her, hanging in her room
With a note telling of the sadness of her life
Those that caused it, they never cared
Over the death of a poor strange girl
As poets we have the words that reach out, that can shock the reader. We can make a stand on many subjects and that is why each poet has something valuable to say and I read.

Chris Smith 2010
nick armbrister Apr 2021
CCP Turtles Grassing Line
China’s virtual hotline
Report online remarks
Slander Communist Party history
Crack down “bygone nihilists”
Party’s 100th centenary July

Grass line allows society report
Netizens “twist” Party’s history
Attack governance policies
Denigrate national heroes
Deny superiority radical socialist nation

Clandestine motivations old nihilistic parodies
Malevolently garbling
Denigrating contradicting Party history

Internet operatives administering people
Devotedly report dangerous info

“Historical nothingness” public doubt distrust
Chinese Communist Party’s earlier dealings

China’s net forcefully censored
Overseas social media networks
Search engines news outlets forbidden

Penances persons conveyed
Netizens prison lawful punishments
Placement content acute
Nation’s leadership procedures antiquity

Legal amendments folks
“Slur smear invade on” memorial
China’s national heroes’ martyrs
Face three years gaol
brianprince Feb 2017
i will become extinct now
because the cows that i love
to eat and drink will have
no more grass to mow
leaving machine processed
foods for nourishment. eliminating
the use of my four-thousand dollar
orthodontic pretty white pearls and
find worth in the five-thousand
dollar allo-derm gum implants.

i will become extinct now as

my forty-year-old digestive
system in which has been pumping
iron exercises three times a day
testing it’s strength with an
8 ounce filet mignon will have
no use any longer so long
to my habitual adult grape
juice for the vines will have
no place to grow. soon they’ll be
powderized. they’ll capsulize my merlot.

i will become extinct now as

the sun sets but only
because it’s manufactured
like pirates of the caribbean
ride you don’t know you’re
inside. fake flames. fake heat.
fake sunsets which provoke my
deepest feelings. artificial now
emotions controlled to it’s
purest form snowboarding
on snoopy sno-cone creations.

replacing our creator with the
lastest inventions. i will
become extinct now.

for i cannot live this way
because my heart is real.
Johnnie Rae Oct 2012
I am alone here,
in the insanity that is my mind,
in the storm of thought that beat blindness into my eyes,
for you never really know, what there is to see,

All the sudden,
my voice runs dry,
like a lone wolf in the night, who has forgotten how to cry,
and there is no one here to dry these tears,
but myself,
and I have forgotten how my hands work,
yet I sit here and write,
curious in the making I do say,

How do we know what to believe,
for it seems honesty isn't the lastest fashion,
people would rather persuade you with useless distractions,
cycling you to believe what you hear,
never seeing whats really there..

I do say,
I am alone here,
with only this pen,
some paper,
and newborn tears.
9.30.12

I wrote this last night after I had finally given up on sleep.
only to fall asleep after I was finished.
Donna Arden Jun 2014
Born in the RS of A
On a virtual July day
Lastest of 5
Sent to the human pound age 3
Secured  a shelf with a window
Glazed outwardly, felt like eternal
Began school in a painted corner
Sealed in with stars
I gradually grew
No sync., no link
To sibling warriors
Alone in 'me own home'
Through dance .. Mimicked purpose
Through fairytales...
conquered romance
Through romance .. Scored pain
Through words ... Felt rain
Hit middle years
Tapped into random courage
Left the partner scrummage
Process delayed
When a car crash, thee swayed
An old spirit I met
Who with rehab ,my soul kept
The scene rolled
My divorce license was polled
Pages turned
Characters learned
Scripts were scrolled
And onwards burnt ...

( my humble beginnings at RAP)
What do you think
To be continued .....
Ignatius Hosiana May 2015
It's like we just push on with it further
And we never even bother
Yet all we do is just hurt each other
We say goodbye like we mean it
But turn back in less than a minute
Bring it up and embrace not the thought
Say we should break up and doing it not
It's a winter whose snow feels hot
I like the way we move on,back to this very spot
Back into each others welcoming arms
Feeling the impact of each others breathing lungs
And our hearts beating neath our chests
It's clear we only break up into love
Maybe hurting some more's what we deserve
To realize that it won't work, it scares me to admit
"It's over" but I cannot tell you when we meet
All I say is let's do it again one more time
And all you say is I should write you one more rhyme
The question is when will it be the "lastest" my friend
When we cannot bear to abide to the end
Margo Mar 2013
this girl I know
is always sick and
always wants to talk
about it to the point that
everybody else
is sick of her

she says her hormones
are a mess
she can’t lose weight
she’s under too
much pressure
yet she’d drink you
clean under the table

she has these
minor cancer scares
and is convinced
she’s bound to get it
she’s often returned
from the doctors
disappointed
to get the all clear

of course the swine flu
didn’t stand a chance
of passing her by
last I heard
she was holed up in bed
with a bottle of wine and 200 marlboro lights
broadcasting her
lastest ailment
via twitter
Dark n Beautiful Jul 2015
When a poem isn’t a poem?
When the contents remain in my journals
Next to my lastest book 50 Shades of Grey
Unread, untouched, in need of a good editor my anthology

Each page form an ear, each smudge!
Weaken a page, chilling and aging
Egging not to be published

One small scented four leaf clover
Developed a teak of grease between a page

These are my stories
Of confession and addictions

Dead birds smothered in gravy
Dead men who never said I am sorry
Ladies who worried about their inner strength”
With each title; with each unbridled/biblical tones
My penmanship, your hidden poems

Through strength I brought forth in my journals
Hidden!  Suffocated! an anthology
Ken Pepiton Jul 2019
Ruler first or ruled

in the grand
scheme
of things

the inter-e-
stop

interest
interesting times, quants of time,

quants divisible, but

non-un-en-tangle-able as opposed

at tthis moment
with tangibility being the re-
al-it-if-I-can temptation

time is permanently temporary here,
if that's okeh with you, as

peacemakers were learned to say.

Leave us let this be, see we was never taught,
we
was caught, and we learned

I can-tations
I caint-tatations yessir nossir, damnright,
I'm white trash

from way back. Hillbilly Scotts and Fisher man Sicilians.

Outlaws hang from my family tree
with some honor, omerta. doncha know.

My great granddaddy fought in the Lincoln County War,
on the side that won.

Ever last one o' my kin's sons,
I ken re
call

was left with a life t' live after
winning a war.

Then came me,
and I'as left t'live after losing war after war after war

for no reason,

those was unreasonable wars.

We was poor boys made men by God
And the Corp-
us, the embodiment of an esprit d'corp

-- flash (the real kind, where you remember an event
in time re-
lated by the merest of mere threads of
wonder)

what if, you are reading this and its like
reveilatory
re-veily girl wwwuwu
re-unveiling, luring

you

to a true-ly, like true,
(you can't tell the difference, no diff, right? D'Israeli, maybe.
said that, aside)
true
Hell. Imagine that.
You can't.

Searing hot iron truth:
no condemnation here, no more, ever on
this edge,

if
things stay balanced.
Any time, past now, is mortally pre-carrious

im' guessing that means pre-tooth rot,
but, I can check…

I 'as wrong, lookathis:
precarious (adj.)
1640s, a legal word,
"held through the favor of another,"
from Latin precarius 
"obtained by asking or praying,"
from prex (genitive precis)
"entreaty, prayer"
(from PIE root *prek- "to ask, entreat").

Notion of "dependent on the will of another" led to
extended sense "risky, dangerous, uncertain" (1680s).

"No word is more unskillfully used than this with its derivatives.
It is used for uncertain in all its senses;
but it only means uncertain, as dependent on others ..."
[Johnson]. Related: Precariously; precariousness.

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=precarious>

tooth-rot persuasion-wise, I'as right.

Jahnsan, we assume Samuel or some other dangling
Johnson, says *******, who rides me

through the raison patch from time to time
so I can see the angel.

The messenger, the very one, told
the Prophet professed to be that lastest wit' the mostest

but un-propheside of precariousness

this very voice manifest aurally, in the
non-shadow-casting image of a pillar of light,

highbeams on a foggy night,
from far away,
then blam
headlights

the voice it said,
"Read".

Twice. Nada mas. Read. He heard it.
But he could not read, so
highly spiritual
was he --
post allakindaholyshit
to him, alone,
an angel of light, with new good news,
just in time,

write this down,
its
weird.Wait…
Wars could …

They could.
Wait. ( as we have, and may, yet.)
Wait,
I can see what the professed prophet can see.
I did read.
He could not.
Ought he to have taught? Who am
I to judge,

times and times and half a time,
that clock,
did it have an alarm?
Trust and obey, its the very most fun, Jeffersonian obediance, if y'please.
His bright, white haze had always held him trapped,
Kept him blinded in hallowed embraces,
Scarcely breathing, trying stiff to adapt,
Teasing him with glimpses of tabooed places.
He lusted for freedom from perfection,
To fly vaguely in dangerous waters,
Incessantly gaining disaffection,
For the lastest fictions he had uttered.
Another offered a chance at freedom,
Skeptical of the darkness surrounding,
Clouded mind knowing that accepting him,
Results in a contract always binding.
Exhausted of sacred blessings he turned,
From angel’s love and in Tartarus burned.
I will never ask you not to have *** for money,
clothes,
cosmetics and cars. Keep f#cking and *******
every D# you see, continue jumping from one
man
to the other.
keep the names of all the hotels you've slept in
your memory, protea hotel, sheraton hotel e.t.c.
When the total number of men you have had ***
with is more than your age,i.e you are 25yrs,and
you have had *** with 30 different men.
you can go ahead doing all those ******* of D#
because you want
to be latest and happening babe in town, you
want to use the latest mobile phones or you
want to wear the lastest clothes in vogue. Its
none of my business and I have no issue with
what you are
doing.
But the only issue I will be having with you is
when you dear open your mouth and say a man
should love you for who you are (probably when
you are moving close to your
expired period).I.e when you have shared all your
body to different men and you have notin let
again
I believe any man who will marry you must have
done something crazy or terrible in the past to
have get hooked with you.
You might even start
warming yourself up by going to church now
bcos you hv lost your womb in the process after
you must
have aborted so many babies, and you are
obviously looking for a miracle to happen...
Until you look into your future, you will never
realize the consequences of your presence
actions..
Am expecting some ladies to hate me now
because the
TRUTH is bitter
Jeremy Bean Aug 2017
Those waving the banner of Democracy
Are those most duped
By the true shot callers
Whining about their trivial matters
Their minor inconveniences
Swallowing the lastest distractions
Shoved down their throats
By the powers that be
Regurgitations of that same old shtick
They were told to say
Like. . "Fighting for our freedom"
Or. . " If you don't vote you can't complain"
A ballot pull for an elected leader
Is as effective as thoughts and prayers
for some senseless tragedy
They wouldn't otherwise
lift a finger
to do anything about.
Both are just
Self-serving gratitudes
To stroke your delusions
One big circus circle ****
I have no interest in participating
I don't pick the clowns
I don't buy their stories
But I can still watch them dance
As the empire crumbles.
Antony Glaser Aug 2016
I squeeze the last of the toothpaste,
well within my rights to be confounded
where does the time go ?
Only last night my paracetamols
where within a month of expiry.
The crux of the matter
office space is a premium
the lastest snag is hot desking,
early starts for the morning-
tired, tired so unnaturally.
I never seem to get the shopping properly done,
too preoccupied winding down for bed,
a cycle is emerging
my long life milk needs replacing.
Ken Pepiton Aug 31
Certain persons among us make claims to knowledge
kept from any who cannot imagine that truth,
we, the every day curious kinds of people,
skeptic
become habitually drawn to knowers claiming right
to tell us one may see what one believes, nought else.

Living words, in message form, why must I see angels?
Whose mind may we leave be in us, if not this one,
alive in constant readiness to give a word umph,

past last clear preconception of a call to pay attention,
today, while it remains time out to redeem in meditation,

be tween one mind's aura and another's… imagining
we see light reflected from sources undetected,
so dark sayings illuminate our directed steps,
or we so say, for we believe we know, now,

is when today occurs, and when the code is broken,
hidden meaning sought with Frankl and Anne Frank,
and dramatic reenactments of battles that inspire
judgment, know who won by who continues being,
any with a will to prove a worth, as a gift in minded
heart felt will to say
we may pay more attention
than we are willing to take.

Easily, given meaningful words… these are the medium,
this is the way we conjoin minds in hives intending
to fill to overflowing, so long as flowers need ***.

==========
Cultured pearls.

Irritatingly apparently real
as any brought to become
by merest of coincidental

rare afflictions with beauty
the initial aim, with hands
put to guiding use, knowing

the growing of the nacre
in total absence of sunlight,
of course, we can't know why.

--------

Words authored in ages past,
during times of congregation,

calling all sundry formations
from noise to align as defined

with hands commands, come
and see the other side of all and
more besides, piling mountains
as clouds in late summer, promise
latter rains on latterly sown seed.

The interpretation of this situation,
now, and not another time, here,
where your mind asks mine explain,

lay it out, tell the whole of knowing
now is when we become our self,
first formed from stories told us,

as true, to assume in storyland,
we can talk with Nature as an entity
who uses words as you would, should
you awaken in a jungle denser,

made afraid for the moment, mind
time pause, now, we think, how say
the sages past, must we treat
with care for fear of proud wrath,

encultured hero worth, a weight
in the bag we measure worth with,

each kernal of barley corn, one third
the inch, which is never taken
for a mile, given will to stretch
the wonder of learning for ever's sake,

indeed, to take each one in a myriad
of steps while helping an officer
of the law of Rome, obey it,
by keeping the peace and pace.

So, long from now, these same words
may live on loosely linked orders
of natural progression as we learn,

stories told as true as plausible,
often include impossibly fortuitous
interference in this clouded realm
of certain reasons asking rational

division of soul and spirit, despite
the rule of Rome, in year 869
of this present domineering age,
whereby soul is spirit and vice versa.

Rightly divided now, by me, today,
boldly going, where some crazies
came before me, to make me pay
attention to the will called why.

Jesus, really? Must we accept
the testimony of mystics, as more
than guessing based
on earlier guesses, up from exstacy,
beyond the first guesses given theory,
suppose, we all pretend to know,
as we are reared to become
those who teach to those so lost,
that only our knowing known stories,
can redeem their worth to truth itself.

----------
Listen, let this mindform in you, think.

In creation mode of mind,
given words for anything named
in the world wide web of knowledge,

arranged in searchible stacks, related,
tied religiously to certainty beyond Delphi,

we trust, as we trusted kings, when few
could gainsay prophecy interpreted true,
after the epoch last ended began, in truth,

measure for measure, an inch is always
three barley corns wide, no more
nor less a length, may be taken for a mile,

as we rethink the idea, charity, feeding needs,
agape, we say means charity, highest form
of love one may bestow, at no cost, true,

charity for which we pay is not the same idea.

I come to offer thought through thoroughly
sieved shards of crystaline ***** scried into,
see, there, that occlusion? that is what you

can never know, until the guru says you do.

--------------
Yes, I do recall verses written,
before exposure to naked truth
that war's glory is as the emperor's
lastest fashions, lasterly erroneously

crowning a child's sense of silliness,
when I was a child, I thought, and still
think many thoughts, what to write,
what to let slip away,
what must be folded to put away,
later, imagining I ask your eyes to see,
leaving no description light might show
either real or made up on purpose to make

believable the reason children are exposed,
to Grimm collections of secular wisdom,
unholy impossible animations, yet,

by the time, I got to Phoenix, I was knowing
days depend from days past, pendulating,
swinging arcing swipes past all pretensions,

loose the bonds of wickedness, comb
the tangled locks of dreads,
Rastaferian dread, wisdom
claimed aligned with wonder weedlike
in trembling fear of hell to pay,
what if we make believe, we two, and you,
we come to here, along these lines, thinking

why is not a factor after all is said and done,
plain and smooth, polished to high sheen,

wedoms welcome any with means to make sense,
share our dreads, show us what it is you think
you know, about the ways truth, per se, makes
where no ways was,
moments earlier, pasts past, perhaps,
happening in all that happens, once mayhap

to you,
aha,
I see, you say, lying with your eyes, but knowing
I can imagine common sense, comfort, ease,
true rest in care akin to told of care in story,

we gather to remind our hive, here we make honey.


------------
Watch the dancing bees, rethink
how few persons on earth can think
there is no mind involved in thinking that,

planning means to become superfluous,
dripping sweet memories, in precious
pricey processes of transubstantiation,

sweet, we say, at a fine fix on the flaw,
we all lie, see, we say we know, we lie,

we lieve being true, as good and useful,
the ology of everything pundits preach,
and teach that we may obey, knowing,

no lie forms from truth's first will to tell,
taste and see,
swallow, and wait… at antepartum,
all we think to ask turns bitter in the belly.
Ok.
Mike Hauser Nov 2019
Who has control over you
Who do you bow down to
Giving it the righteous nod
Who to you is the lastest god

Pray today you don't skip a beat
To the saving grace of technology
Gaze away at the trip and fall
The latest craze, your wailing wall

Is it faith or blinded trust
You love to hate and hate to love
What you have is personable
Leaving all the others out

Shallow out on the cracked surface
Bow down to the screen for purpose
In the end, will it all be worth it
In the afterlife of market

Who do you toss prayers to
What new device is your guru
Giving it the righteous nod
Who to you is the latest god
XnwxrMxlik Mar 2021
love seek silence
distant pirates are rising
for once again to claim diamonds

As this ticker encountered Medusa
while dealing within Bermuda
And so it turned into stone of turquoise
my precious
close to the bird once was

fly you little faithful fool
step out of the whirlpool
faker isn't coming back
for he befriended the ghouls of the black

run away with thy
timeless treasure of memories  
before the noise destroys
lastest of joy

seek for your silence
behold the nature
the only place where you can find
your stranger

seek for peace
from your inner voice
and listen to those melodies
of new possibilities...

— The End —