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"lawyers" poems
Papers, Papers, Papers Whiter than aching teeth, Whiter than whites of tilted eyes, Whiter than funeral wreaths. My hands shake as I write this, Filed away myths; Stolen lined sheets  My index finger chained by red tapes, words mix and ground breaks, I'm the one the world forsakes Yellow maize, littered leaves, all twisted into black ink and clean sharp white paper blades. -------"I am in a bit of daze," I tell myself, "look at those flaccid bits; there lay the logs who use to be the jungle of my childhood dreams." ------"Don't be amazed," I replied, "these leafless branches and twigs are for  your Papier-Mâché degrees." So I listen to my second self once, the more logical cynical satirical one, Treading on the plot of their paper works, playing crosswords as anxiety uncork my thoughts turn to the bankable orcs, just as my career forks Maybe I should be like my mother, Marking numbers on a deck of cards-- waltzing with Chance. Maybe I should be like my father, Toiling for some rich men's grandson-- seething in Trance. Maybe I should be like the Other, Going along with the system-- thanking myself beneath a cap, a diploma, a piece of paper. I wore these books like bank notes tuxedoes, I was promised the world by the credits I borrowed. Must I go along with the mechanism of their game, or should I rise up against all odds Opposing, debating, rebelling against this bundle, this trouble, funneling me into no-tomorrows Or must I write it all down, in my prayers against their lawyers, who need no reminds Or must I shred, smear, and tear the papers with my own bare hands But what will I ever be to them, friends? A papercut, perhaps.
0
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 9:33 PM UTC
Papercuts
Papers, Papers, Papers Whiter than aching teeth, Whiter than whites of tilted eyes, Whiter than funeral wreaths. My hands shake as I write this, Filed away myths; Stolen lined sheets  My index finger chained by red tapes, words mix and ground breaks, I'm the one the world forsakes Yellow maize, littered leaves, all twisted into black ink and clean sharp white paper blades. -------"I am in a bit of daze," I tell myself, "look at those flaccid bits; there lay the logs who use to be the jungle of my childhood dreams." ------"Don't be amazed," I replied, "these leafless branches and twigs are for  your Papier-Mâché degrees." So I listen to my second self once, the more logical cynical satirical one, Treading on the plot of their paper works, playing crosswords as anxiety uncork my thoughts turn to the bankable orcs, just as my career forks Maybe I should be like my mother, Marking numbers on a deck of cards-- waltzing with Chance. Maybe I should be like my father, Toiling for some rich men's grandson-- seething in Trance. Maybe I should be like the Other, Going along with the system-- thanking myself beneath a cap, a diploma, a piece of paper. I wore these books like bank notes tuxedoes, I was promised the world by the credits I borrowed. Must I go along with the mechanism of their game, or should I rise up against all odds Opposing, debating, rebelling against this bundle, this trouble, funneling me into no-tomorrows Or must I write it all down, in my prayers against their lawyers, who need no reminds Or must I shred, smear, and tear the papers with my own bare hands But what will I ever be to them, friends? A papercut, perhaps.
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40
Whatever you do, keep smiling. Be nice to everyone and stand up for your rights. There are many paths to the top of the mountain but few of them are on the map. Keep running, never give up, and watch out for the seriously weird. Avoid psychopaths, if you can recognize them, be polite to witches and warlocks, eschew cannibals, beware of the hippopotamus in heat, don’t drink the second bottle when dancing the Funky Chicken, and only massage someone without pimples or hairy legs. Never give up and keep smiling. It's a hard life, it's a beautiful world, life's a ***** it's great to be alive, life is nasty, brutish and short, don’t give up and keep smiling. Everyone is a guru but ignorance is everywhere, and don't mix hallucinogens with depressants. If someone tells you that they're honest, treat them with the greatest suspicion. Live to the limits, we're only alive once, and that's just as well, because imagine if people you didn't like were immortal. Keep smiling, never give up, always hawk to windward, and never leave your underpants or ******* behind. Everyone's equal but only the strong survive, especially when they take from the weak because what you seize is what you get. The meek shall inherit the earth, but the earth that they inherit will be of poor quality with no mineral deposits. Party lots, work hard, never give up, and keep smiling. Don't work so hard you don't enjoy yourself, remember that the bird is on the wing, then it falls off its perch and becomes a miserable pile of feathers and feet. The fast lane is the best lane but it's very smooth and slippery and there are no road rules. Watch out for lawyers. Seriously. They put the devil in the details while their hand is in your wallet. Everything comes to you if only you can wait, but this takes too long. Clean your teeth, obey authority, except for arrogant ******** and don't forget that love and pleasure are most important, despite what anybody else says. When you panic, other people will panic, which is good, because in this confusion, you can make your escape. Mike T Minehan
0
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 9:14 PM UTC
Advice from Others
Whatever you do, keep smiling. Be nice to everyone and stand up for your rights. There are many paths to the top of the mountain but few of them are on the map. Keep running, never give up, and watch out for the seriously weird. Avoid psychopaths, if you can recognize them, be polite to witches and warlocks, eschew cannibals, beware of the hippopotamus in heat, don’t drink the second bottle when dancing the Funky Chicken, and only massage someone without pimples or hairy legs. Never give up and keep smiling. It's a hard life, it's a beautiful world, life's a ***** it's great to be alive, life is nasty, brutish and short, don’t give up and keep smiling. Everyone is a guru but ignorance is everywhere, and don't mix hallucinogens with depressants. If someone tells you that they're honest, treat them with the greatest suspicion. Live to the limits, we're only alive once, and that's just as well, because imagine if people you didn't like were immortal. Keep smiling, never give up, always hawk to windward, and never leave your underpants or ******* behind. Everyone's equal but only the strong survive, especially when they take from the weak because what you seize is what you get. The meek shall inherit the earth, but the earth that they inherit will be of poor quality with no mineral deposits. Party lots, work hard, never give up, and keep smiling. Don't work so hard you don't enjoy yourself, remember that the bird is on the wing, then it falls off its perch and becomes a miserable pile of feathers and feet. The fast lane is the best lane but it's very smooth and slippery and there are no road rules. Watch out for lawyers. Seriously. They put the devil in the details while their hand is in your wallet. Everything comes to you if only you can wait, but this takes too long. Clean your teeth, obey authority, except for arrogant ******** and don't forget that love and pleasure are most important, despite what anybody else says. When you panic, other people will panic, which is good, because in this confusion, you can make your escape. Mike T Minehan
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53
He loved her and she loved him His kisses ****** out her whole past and future or tried to He had no other appetite She bit him she gnawed him she ****** She wanted him complete inside her Safe and Sure forever and ever Their little cries fluttered into the curtains Her eyes wanted nothing to get away Her looks nailed down his hands his wrists his elbows He gripped her hard so that life Should not drag her from that moment He wanted all future to cease He wanted to topple with his arms round her Or everlasting or whatever there was Her embrace was an immense press To print him into her bones His smiles were the garrets of a fairy place Where the real world would never come Her smiles were spider bites So he would lie still till she felt hungry His word were occupying armies Her laughs were an assasin's attempts His looks were bullets daggers of revenge Her glances were ghosts in the corner with horrible secrets His whispers were whips and jackboots Her kisses were lawyers steadily writing His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks And their deep cries crawled over the floors Like an animal dragging a great trap His promises were the surgeon's gag Her promises took the top off his skull She would get a brooch made of it His vows pulled out all her sinews He showed her how to make a love-knot At the back of her secret drawer Their screams stuck in the wall Their heads fell apart into sleep like the two halves Of a lopped melon, but love is hard to stop In their entwined sleep they exchanged arms and legs In their dreams their brains took each other hostage In the morning they wore each other's face
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17.6k
Lovesong
He loved her and she loved him His kisses ****** out her whole past and future or tried to He had no other appetite She bit him she gnawed him she ****** She wanted him complete inside her Safe and Sure forever and ever Their little cries fluttered into the curtains Her eyes wanted nothing to get away Her looks nailed down his hands his wrists his elbows He gripped her hard so that life Should not drag her from that moment He wanted all future to cease He wanted to topple with his arms round her Or everlasting or whatever there was Her embrace was an immense press To print him into her bones His smiles were the garrets of a fairy place Where the real world would never come Her smiles were spider bites So he would lie still till she felt hungry His word were occupying armies Her laughs were an assasin's attempts His looks were bullets daggers of revenge Her glances were ghosts in the corner with horrible secrets His whispers were whips and jackboots Her kisses were lawyers steadily writing His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks And their deep cries crawled over the floors Like an animal dragging a great trap His promises were the surgeon's gag Her promises took the top off his skull She would get a brooch made of it His vows pulled out all her sinews He showed her how to make a love-knot At the back of her secret drawer Their screams stuck in the wall Their heads fell apart into sleep like the two halves Of a lopped melon, but love is hard to stop In their entwined sleep they exchanged arms and legs In their dreams their brains took each other hostage In the morning they wore each other's face
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42
In this battle for the freedom of our souls some may think Maybe I should've let go long ago From being kings and queens, Chiefs and Pharaohs To ******* in the cotton fields To slaves being whipped and forgotten We were stolen. Stripped from our homes and looted of our gold. Fast forward Now we are doctors, lawyers, professors But Don't tell me the cotton fields have recovered from our tears Our sweat seeps deep into the souls of America So Don't tell me the cotton fields have recovered from our blood. Fast forward "All are equal before the law and are entitled without any discrimination to equal protection of the law." They tell us equality is coming. That it is here. Then let you wait holding your breath Suffocating. Black boy shot and killed for walking down the street Black boy whipped and beaten for looking master in the eye Tell me are you still holding your breath? Still suffocating Still waiting for the keys to our chains Fast forward Black lives matter All roads torn down, we've paved new paths   Stripped from our houses so we built homes Lotted for our gold but we are golden Black is hard to get rid of, that annoying stain that stays to long Black is rough and tough Black is solid in luring ways But Black lives won't matter until we love our own people Black lives won't. matter. to. them. because you've called that girl a *** or Thot" Black lives won't matter until we stop the black on black blood splatter For black lives to matter... We must empower each other Standing together the ground will break recognizing he whose tears, sweat and blood upon which it was built So take one look at our past Because this will be the last
0
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 11:55 AM UTC
Fast forward
In this battle for the freedom of our souls some may think Maybe I should've let go long ago From being kings and queens, Chiefs and Pharaohs To ******* in the cotton fields To slaves being whipped and forgotten We were stolen. Stripped from our homes and looted of our gold. Fast forward Now we are doctors, lawyers, professors But Don't tell me the cotton fields have recovered from our tears Our sweat seeps deep into the souls of America So Don't tell me the cotton fields have recovered from our blood. Fast forward "All are equal before the law and are entitled without any discrimination to equal protection of the law." They tell us equality is coming. That it is here. Then let you wait holding your breath Suffocating. Black boy shot and killed for walking down the street Black boy whipped and beaten for looking master in the eye Tell me are you still holding your breath? Still suffocating Still waiting for the keys to our chains Fast forward Black lives matter All roads torn down, we've paved new paths   Stripped from our houses so we built homes Lotted for our gold but we are golden Black is hard to get rid of, that annoying stain that stays to long Black is rough and tough Black is solid in luring ways But Black lives won't matter until we love our own people Black lives won't. matter. to. them. because you've called that girl a *** or Thot" Black lives won't matter until we stop the black on black blood splatter For black lives to matter... We must empower each other Standing together the ground will break recognizing he whose tears, sweat and blood upon which it was built So take one look at our past Because this will be the last
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40
A ball player and a thief Will likely be pregnant by age 16. Lives in the ghetto and is poor, Often identified as a ***** Runs fast and does drugs, Hangs around with gangsters and thugs. Has a gun or a friend with one. Speaks in slang, must be part of a gang. Mess with her, she'll pull a Sharkeisha on you. If you were to picture a person of any race, That fits the description that just took place. A baller and **** hmm... what race matches that? Yeah you're right, that person is probably black. Is fast, does drugs, and speaks with slang? Lemme guess, is he also in a gang? A young mother who is also poor? Bet she doesn't know who the dad is, what a ***** All these negative stereotypes associated with being black. Its disheartening, sicking and its really sad. And whats sadder is that if you are the opposite of all of that, You are often told that you're not really black. Does your skin colour change for going to Harvard? Will it change for speaking like an English scholar? Because I play hockey and not ball, does that make me white? So what if I'm the type of person to run away from a fight? You don't have to be irresponsible and rude to be considered black. It's your ethnic background that determines that. And to some people, all we are is the complexion of our face. Light, dark, somewhere in the middle, to some, the bad of a few defines our whole race. Does running away from a cop, and being black give someone grounds to shoot? Why is it that my skin color is what is most important to you? Is asking a question when getting arrested for no visible reason really resisting arrest? Does struggling to break free from restraints to catch my breath, give someone a reason to grab on tighter to strangle me to death? The actions of a few don't define the actions of a whole group. And this assumption that all black are thugs, thieves and liars has done clear damage to, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin and so many more. They didn't know it, but just by being black, they put their lives at risk when they stepped out their door. Don't you think it's gotten too far when we have to prove Black Lives Matter, or when we the saying of a movement is Hands Up, Don't Shoot. Should people have to be reminded that blacks are real people and that our lives matter  too? We are athletes and musicians. Lawyers and physicians. The leader of a nation. An anchorman of a news station. We don't all fit into that mold that is preset for us. You can and should expect great things of us. Because we don't have to be a **** or a baller to be considered black. We define what type of black person we are, we determine that.
0
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
Abolishing Stereotypes
A ball player and a thief Will likely be pregnant by age 16. Lives in the ghetto and is poor, Often identified as a ***** Runs fast and does drugs, Hangs around with gangsters and thugs. Has a gun or a friend with one. Speaks in slang, must be part of a gang. Mess with her, she'll pull a Sharkeisha on you. If you were to picture a person of any race, That fits the description that just took place. A baller and **** hmm... what race matches that? Yeah you're right, that person is probably black. Is fast, does drugs, and speaks with slang? Lemme guess, is he also in a gang? A young mother who is also poor? Bet she doesn't know who the dad is, what a ***** All these negative stereotypes associated with being black. Its disheartening, sicking and its really sad. And whats sadder is that if you are the opposite of all of that, You are often told that you're not really black. Does your skin colour change for going to Harvard? Will it change for speaking like an English scholar? Because I play hockey and not ball, does that make me white? So what if I'm the type of person to run away from a fight? You don't have to be irresponsible and rude to be considered black. It's your ethnic background that determines that. And to some people, all we are is the complexion of our face. Light, dark, somewhere in the middle, to some, the bad of a few defines our whole race. Does running away from a cop, and being black give someone grounds to shoot? Why is it that my skin color is what is most important to you? Is asking a question when getting arrested for no visible reason really resisting arrest? Does struggling to break free from restraints to catch my breath, give someone a reason to grab on tighter to strangle me to death? The actions of a few don't define the actions of a whole group. And this assumption that all black are thugs, thieves and liars has done clear damage to, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin and so many more. They didn't know it, but just by being black, they put their lives at risk when they stepped out their door. Don't you think it's gotten too far when we have to prove Black Lives Matter, or when we the saying of a movement is Hands Up, Don't Shoot. Should people have to be reminded that blacks are real people and that our lives matter  too? We are athletes and musicians. Lawyers and physicians. The leader of a nation. An anchorman of a news station. We don't all fit into that mold that is preset for us. You can and should expect great things of us. Because we don't have to be a **** or a baller to be considered black. We define what type of black person we are, we determine that.
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48
WHEN the jury files in to deliver a verdict after weeks of direct and cross examinations, hot clashes of lawyers and cool decisions of the judge, There are points of high silence-twiddling of thumbs is at an end-bailiffs near cuspidors take fresh chews of tobacco and wait-and the clock has a chance for its ticking to be heard. A lawyer for the defense clears his throat and holds himself ready if the word is "Guilty" to enter motion for a new trial, speaking in a soft voice, speaking in a voice slightly colored with bitter wrongs mingled with monumental patience, speaking with mythic Atlas shoulders of many preposterous, unjust circumstances.
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7.5k
Lawyer
walk into the room With your pencil in your hand You see somebody naked And you say, who is that man? You try so hard But you dont understand Just what youll say When you get home Because something is happening here But you dont know what it is Do you, mister jones? You raise up your head And you ask, is this where it is? And somebody points to you and says Its his And you say, whats mine? And somebody else says, where what is? And you say, oh my god Am I here all alone? Because something is happening here But you dont know what it is Do you, mister jones? You hand in your ticket And you go watch the geek Who immediately walks up to you When he hears you speak And says, how does it feel To be such a freak? And you say, impossible As he hands you a bone Because something is happening here But you dont know what it is Do you, mister jones? You have many contacts Among the lumberjacks To get you facts When someone attacks your imagination But nobody has any respect Anyway they already expect you To just give a check To tax-deductible charity organizations Youve been with the professors And theyve all liked your looks With great lawyers you have Discussed lepers and crooks Youve been through all of F. scott fitzgeralds books Youre very well read Its well known Because something is happening here But you dont know what it is Do you, mister jones? Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you And then he kneels He crosses himself And then he clicks his high heels And without further notice He asks you how it feels And he says, here is your throat back Thanks for the loan Because something is happening here But you dont know what it is Do you, mister jones? Now you see this one-eyed ****** Shouting the word now And you say, for what reason? And he says, how? And you say, what does this mean? And he screams back, youre a cow Give me some milk Or else go home Because something is happening here But you dont know what it is Do you, mister jones? Well, you walk into the room Like a camel and then you frown You put your eyes in your pocket And your nose on the ground There ought to be a law Against you comin around You should be made To wear earphones Because something is happening here But you dont know what it is Do you, mister jones?
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7.4k
Ballad Of A Thin Man, What do you think?
walk into the room With your pencil in your hand You see somebody naked And you say, who is that man? You try so hard But you dont understand Just what youll say When you get home Because something is happening here But you dont know what it is Do you, mister jones? You raise up your head And you ask, is this where it is? And somebody points to you and says Its his And you say, whats mine? And somebody else says, where what is? And you say, oh my god Am I here all alone? Because something is happening here But you dont know what it is Do you, mister jones? You hand in your ticket And you go watch the geek Who immediately walks up to you When he hears you speak And says, how does it feel To be such a freak? And you say, impossible As he hands you a bone Because something is happening here But you dont know what it is Do you, mister jones? You have many contacts Among the lumberjacks To get you facts When someone attacks your imagination But nobody has any respect Anyway they already expect you To just give a check To tax-deductible charity organizations Youve been with the professors And theyve all liked your looks With great lawyers you have Discussed lepers and crooks Youve been through all of F. scott fitzgeralds books Youre very well read Its well known Because something is happening here But you dont know what it is Do you, mister jones? Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you And then he kneels He crosses himself And then he clicks his high heels And without further notice He asks you how it feels And he says, here is your throat back Thanks for the loan Because something is happening here But you dont know what it is Do you, mister jones? Now you see this one-eyed ****** Shouting the word now And you say, for what reason? And he says, how? And you say, what does this mean? And he screams back, youre a cow Give me some milk Or else go home Because something is happening here But you dont know what it is Do you, mister jones? Well, you walk into the room Like a camel and then you frown You put your eyes in your pocket And your nose on the ground There ought to be a law Against you comin around You should be made To wear earphones Because something is happening here But you dont know what it is Do you, mister jones?
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85
Are there lawyers in heaven? who sells fish in a Seven-Eleven? How do you prove guilt or innocence, with the devil conspicuous in his absence? Are there barbers or pastors in Heaven? Until the End-of-Days, it is unproven; If we are to do some speculation, Better to do more charitable donations. But one profession, I quite understand, whether in hell or God's Disneyland, that will not make a good living; that's doing double entry accounting. So where do accountants go, you ask; now you really need an oxygen mask; In hell, in heaven, or anywhere you look, there's just no place to cook the books. Someone may now ask about exorcists, I hate to answer, but I just can't resist; ask your grandma or grandpa, they are in a real big dilemma. In heaven, no demons to trouble you, In hell, there are more than quite a few; In heaven, all are good, so no originality, In hell, who works for nothing for Eternity?
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Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 5:09 AM UTC
Lawyers in Heaven
Woof.....woof.....woof...woof....woof....wooof Some Red setters dogs are eating Jewish people in England But why, do call them off, they are british people, The are hard working, Industrious, Entrepreneurs, Professors, Doctors, Lawyers, Bankers, Entertainers Scientists, Writers, eminent Surgeons, Artists, these are nice Britons....stop the dogs, stop the dogs..... Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof woof Some Red Setters dogs are eating and biting some Labour MPs all over the country But why, do call off the dogs, No! we have a list and this list,  highlighted the behaviour of a number of Left MPs, including Jess Phillips for telling Corbyn’s ally Diane Abbott to **** off”, John Woodcock for dismissing the party leader as a ******* disaster” and Tristram Hunt for describing Labour as “in the **** and all the other hard working Moderate MPs who dared protest at Anti-Semitic stance or supported the Jews . Woof.....woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof Some Red Setters dogs are devouring some minor Royal from Africa But why, do call off the dogs. No that ****** has a big **** he's Charismatic, intelligent, wholesome, has good work ethics, polite, wise, charming, generous, witty and a ****** good lover and to top it all he's Royal. Now that's ******* GREEDY, how much can a ******* man have. NO! he's a goner. He is too perfect, he must be hounded and persecuted to death. Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof.....woof.......woof Grrr.....woof.....Grrrrr....woof...wooof...Grrrr....wooof Congratulations People, we have got rid of them all we now have real democracy, we have a real society now Get in the dogs ... And all you useless ******* people shut up! And report to the Labor Camps 7:30a.m. tomorrow You're Working Class and now you ****** have to work!
0
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
“call off the dogs”.
Woof.....woof.....woof...woof....woof....wooof Some Red setters dogs are eating Jewish people in England But why, do call them off, they are british people, The are hard working, Industrious, Entrepreneurs, Professors, Doctors, Lawyers, Bankers, Entertainers Scientists, Writers, eminent Surgeons, Artists, these are nice Britons....stop the dogs, stop the dogs..... Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof woof Some Red Setters dogs are eating and biting some Labour MPs all over the country But why, do call off the dogs, No! we have a list and this list,  highlighted the behaviour of a number of Left MPs, including Jess Phillips for telling Corbyn’s ally Diane Abbott to **** off”, John Woodcock for dismissing the party leader as a ******* disaster” and Tristram Hunt for describing Labour as “in the **** and all the other hard working Moderate MPs who dared protest at Anti-Semitic stance or supported the Jews . Woof.....woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof Some Red Setters dogs are devouring some minor Royal from Africa But why, do call off the dogs. No that ****** has a big **** he's Charismatic, intelligent, wholesome, has good work ethics, polite, wise, charming, generous, witty and a ****** good lover and to top it all he's Royal. Now that's ******* GREEDY, how much can a ******* man have. NO! he's a goner. He is too perfect, he must be hounded and persecuted to death. Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof.....woof.......woof Grrr.....woof.....Grrrrr....woof...wooof...Grrrr....wooof Congratulations People, we have got rid of them all we now have real democracy, we have a real society now Get in the dogs ... And all you useless ******* people shut up! And report to the Labor Camps 7:30a.m. tomorrow You're Working Class and now you ****** have to work!
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27
thus by prosecutor charg-ed, with this crime so heinous~ed, the judge insisted on a super speedy trial, this, a special case-d "can't wait to hang this ***** be~deviler, got me a jail, second only to hell, if he thinks his hifalutin lawyers will get him de-roped!" I plead guilty to save the state some moola, avoid the expense of all the attendant hoopla, but in my tired defense, I said little but this, it was god who cursed me with this word-ly power! now I ain't saying I was naturally bad, but who are you to judge me so harshly , when all I did, with a tool god~given, was, tell people how beautiful they are, so close. never far, from bringing them forth to their fruition so my intentions were good, tho my goose is cooked, loonily, this I truthfully willingly confess, though just as bad, I was lazy, I was negligent, I am now hell-bent for many infractions, the greatest, chiefest of them all, was all the times, !!!!! ***read a poem much beloved by other's on this blue earth, weak from jealousy jealous, I never...reposted it! for their way much better than mine, and I was too selfish to praise them, so I expect I won't be too lonely in perdition, just another poet***                                                             !!!!!!!!                                                       addition *so children, teach your children well a poet's hell will slowly go by, if they fail to repost them hundreds of poems that mak'em gasp~laugh-just plain weep, for that will really **** (sorry lord) the one true judge wh gave us this wordy blessing, and is eagerly awaiting us special* sinners and that just might be my one true name… (Oh sinner~man! where are you gonna run too) [{(]})] p.s. this poem readily available to be reposted ('jes a 'gestion) even plagiarized elsewhere, but remember, when you, who stole it, somebody's a~watching whose vision is unimpaired. plus, I got new software invented by Ai trained teachers, so so, easy to find ya...
0
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 5:14 PM UTC
My True Name: "A way with words (and sentiments)"
thus by prosecutor charg-ed, with this crime so heinous~ed, the judge insisted on a super speedy trial, this, a special case-d "can't wait to hang this ***** be~deviler, got me a jail, second only to hell, if he thinks his hifalutin lawyers will get him de-roped!" I plead guilty to save the state some moola, avoid the expense of all the attendant hoopla, but in my tired defense, I said little but this, it was god who cursed me with this word-ly power! now I ain't saying I was naturally bad, but who are you to judge me so harshly , when all I did, with a tool god~given, was, tell people how beautiful they are, so close. never far, from bringing them forth to their fruition so my intentions were good, tho my goose is cooked, loonily, this I truthfully willingly confess, though just as bad, I was lazy, I was negligent, I am now hell-bent for many infractions, the greatest, chiefest of them all, was all the times, !!!!! ***read a poem much beloved by other's on this blue earth, weak from jealousy jealous, I never...reposted it! for their way much better than mine, and I was too selfish to praise them, so I expect I won't be too lonely in perdition, just another poet***                                                             !!!!!!!!                                                       addition *so children, teach your children well a poet's hell will slowly go by, if they fail to repost them hundreds of poems that mak'em gasp~laugh-just plain weep, for that will really **** (sorry lord) the one true judge wh gave us this wordy blessing, and is eagerly awaiting us special* sinners and that just might be my one true name… (Oh sinner~man! where are you gonna run too) [{(]})] p.s. this poem readily available to be reposted ('jes a 'gestion) even plagiarized elsewhere, but remember, when you, who stole it, somebody's a~watching whose vision is unimpaired. plus, I got new software invented by Ai trained teachers, so so, easy to find ya...
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43
I don't apologize for my blackness and your fear seems like this beautiful melanin enriched skin is a blessing and a curse. police offers using our young men's as target practice ripping our rich black roots from the ground and scathing them them all over the cold blood stained concrete streets that my people paved.they just want us to dance sing and play ball to entertain them. they don't want us to succeed and move on to bigger and better things so sinister grins creep upon their faces as they watch us slaughter eachother in the streets. they watch us struggle to get out of poverty they say we're all on welfare and ain't **** but how can we move up in the world and get out of poverty when this system wasn't built to benefit us? we are more than the stereotypes. we are doctors lawyers entrepreneurs nurses designers filmmakers activist.we are intelligent intellectual beings with knowledge that surpasses all understanding. they don't want us to open our mouths and speak our truth...they want us to shut up and chuck and jive and kiss their pasty white ***** to the bone they want us to ignore the blatant racism and discrimination we face everyday and be content that we aren't enduring as much pain as the ones before us have. but we will not shut up. we do experience racism. we do experience discrimination. and our people are dying everyday from it.how dare you utter the words respect yourself and well respect your from the same mouth that slandered my ppl and taught us to hate ourselves with? we were taught to love everything that was white and hate everything that was black and love blonde long straight hair and blue eyes and hate our chocolate skin and ***** hair but these ***** roots are deep...no matter how much you try and destroy them they are deep and run through us all. so my brothers and sisters... be proud of your roots take care of your roots embrace your roots love everything about yourself from that ***** *** hair that breaks all the teeth of your comb to your chocolate skin that glows in the sunlight and those strong minds and powerful voices because black is beautiful, black is powerful black is brilliant, black matters.
0
Jul 23, 2015
Jul 23, 2015 at 2:12 PM UTC
Untitled (rough draft).
I don't apologize for my blackness and your fear seems like this beautiful melanin enriched skin is a blessing and a curse. police offers using our young men's as target practice ripping our rich black roots from the ground and scathing them them all over the cold blood stained concrete streets that my people paved.they just want us to dance sing and play ball to entertain them. they don't want us to succeed and move on to bigger and better things so sinister grins creep upon their faces as they watch us slaughter eachother in the streets. they watch us struggle to get out of poverty they say we're all on welfare and ain't **** but how can we move up in the world and get out of poverty when this system wasn't built to benefit us? we are more than the stereotypes. we are doctors lawyers entrepreneurs nurses designers filmmakers activist.we are intelligent intellectual beings with knowledge that surpasses all understanding. they don't want us to open our mouths and speak our truth...they want us to shut up and chuck and jive and kiss their pasty white ***** to the bone they want us to ignore the blatant racism and discrimination we face everyday and be content that we aren't enduring as much pain as the ones before us have. but we will not shut up. we do experience racism. we do experience discrimination. and our people are dying everyday from it.how dare you utter the words respect yourself and well respect your from the same mouth that slandered my ppl and taught us to hate ourselves with? we were taught to love everything that was white and hate everything that was black and love blonde long straight hair and blue eyes and hate our chocolate skin and ***** hair but these ***** roots are deep...no matter how much you try and destroy them they are deep and run through us all. so my brothers and sisters... be proud of your roots take care of your roots embrace your roots love everything about yourself from that ***** *** hair that breaks all the teeth of your comb to your chocolate skin that glows in the sunlight and those strong minds and powerful voices because black is beautiful, black is powerful black is brilliant, black matters.
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1
The lawyers, Bob, know too much. They are chums of the books of old John Marshall. They know it all, what a dead hand wrote, A stiff dead hand and its knuckles crumbling, The bones of the fingers a thin white ash. The lawyers know a dead man's thought too well. In the heels of the higgling lawyers, Bob, Too many slippery ifs and buts and howevers, Too much hereinbefore provided whereas, Too many doors to go in and out of. When the lawyers are through What is there left, Bob? Can a mouse nibble at it And find enough to fasten a tooth in? Why is there always a secret singing When a lawyer cashes in? Why does a hearse horse snicker Hauling a lawyer away? The work of a bricklayer goes to the blue. The knack of a mason outlasts a moon. The hands of a plasterer hold a room together. The land of a farmer wishes him back again. Singers of songs and dreamers of plays Build a house no wind blows over. The lawyers--tell me why a hearse horse snickers hauling a lawyer's bones.
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5.6k
The Lawyers Know Too Much
Little boxes on the hillside, Little boxes made of ticky tacky, Little boxes on the hillside, Little boxes all the same. There's a green one and a pink one And a blue one and a yellow one, And they're all made out of ticky tacky And they all look just the same. And the people in the houses All went to the university, Where they were put in boxes And they came out all the same, And there's doctors and lawyers, And business executives, And they're all made out of ticky tacky And they all look just the same. And they all play on the golf course And drink their martinis dry, And they all have pretty children And the children go to school, And the children go to summer camp And then to the university, Where they are put in boxes And they come out all the same. And the boys go into business And marry and raise a family In boxes made of ticky tacky And they all look just the same. There's a green one and a pink one And a blue one and a yellow one, And they're all made out of ticky tacky And they all look just the same.
0
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 9:23 AM UTC
Little Boxes - Malvinia Reynolds
THE BALLOONS hang on wires in the Marigold Gardens. They spot their yellow and gold, they juggle their blue and red, they float their faces on the face of the sky. Balloon face eaters sit by hundreds reading the eat cards, asking, "What shall we eat?"-and the waiters, "Have you ordered?" they are sixty ballon faces sifting white over the tuxedoes. Poets, lawyers, ad men, mason contractors, smartalecks discussing "educated ********* here they put ***** into their balloon faces. Here sit the heavy balloon face women lifting crimson lobsters into their crimson faces, lobsters out of Sargossa sea bottoms. Here sits a man cross-examining a woman, "Where were you last night? What do you do with all your money? Who's buying your shoes now, anyhow?" So they sit eating whitefish, two balloon faces swept on God's night wind. And all the time the balloon spots on the wires, a little mile of festoons, they play their own silence play of film yellow and film gold, bubble blue and bubble red. The wind crosses the town, the wind from the west side comes to the banks of marigolds boxed in the Marigold Gardens. Night moths fly and fix their feet in the leaves and eat and are seen by the eaters. The jazz outfit sweats and the drums and the saxophones reach for the ears of the eaters. The chorus brought from Broadway works at the fun and the slouch of their shoulders, the kick of their ankles, reach for the eyes of the eaters. These girls from Kokomo and Peoria, these hungry girls, since they are paid-for, let us look on and listen, let us get their number. Why do I go again to the balloons on the wires, something for nothing, kin women of the half-moon, dream women? And the half-moon swinging on the wind crossing the town-these two, the half-moon and the wind-this will be about all, this will be about all. Eaters, go to it; your mazuma pays for it all; it's a knockout, a classy knockout-and payday always comes. The moths in the marigolds will do for me, the half-moon, the wishing wind and the little mile of balloon spots on wires-this will be about all, this will be about all.
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5.5k
Balloon Faces
THE BALLOONS hang on wires in the Marigold Gardens. They spot their yellow and gold, they juggle their blue and red, they float their faces on the face of the sky. Balloon face eaters sit by hundreds reading the eat cards, asking, "What shall we eat?"-and the waiters, "Have you ordered?" they are sixty ballon faces sifting white over the tuxedoes. Poets, lawyers, ad men, mason contractors, smartalecks discussing "educated ********* here they put ***** into their balloon faces. Here sit the heavy balloon face women lifting crimson lobsters into their crimson faces, lobsters out of Sargossa sea bottoms. Here sits a man cross-examining a woman, "Where were you last night? What do you do with all your money? Who's buying your shoes now, anyhow?" So they sit eating whitefish, two balloon faces swept on God's night wind. And all the time the balloon spots on the wires, a little mile of festoons, they play their own silence play of film yellow and film gold, bubble blue and bubble red. The wind crosses the town, the wind from the west side comes to the banks of marigolds boxed in the Marigold Gardens. Night moths fly and fix their feet in the leaves and eat and are seen by the eaters. The jazz outfit sweats and the drums and the saxophones reach for the ears of the eaters. The chorus brought from Broadway works at the fun and the slouch of their shoulders, the kick of their ankles, reach for the eyes of the eaters. These girls from Kokomo and Peoria, these hungry girls, since they are paid-for, let us look on and listen, let us get their number. Why do I go again to the balloons on the wires, something for nothing, kin women of the half-moon, dream women? And the half-moon swinging on the wind crossing the town-these two, the half-moon and the wind-this will be about all, this will be about all. Eaters, go to it; your mazuma pays for it all; it's a knockout, a classy knockout-and payday always comes. The moths in the marigolds will do for me, the half-moon, the wishing wind and the little mile of balloon spots on wires-this will be about all, this will be about all.
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19
Timbeck Tyu,  Timbeck Tyu Great City Timbeck Tyu Coloured Walls Nicely Painted Arts and Drawing Everywhere Artifacts on every crossing People's representatives feel like king Magnificient buildings here and there Bridges and flyover everywhere Toll tax booth here and there Statues standing everywhere Banners hanging here and there Hoardings, posters everywhere Malls and Hotels here and there Dance Bars and Casinos everywhere Citizens always in Crisis Struggling with poverty Economical condition bad Politicians has gone mad Nationalism in Slogans Here and there hooligans Real nationalist are renamed They are called anti-nationals Corruption is on the peak You need license to speak Crowd imposes censorship System respects the crowd Mouse catches the Crow Everything on the show Real news not covered Real issues are untouched Fake news are implanted Press and Media on sale Laws are being twisted Burden of proof shifted Culprits are honoured Innocents are hanged Farmers are in debts Their families are starving They can't even pay their loans Neither Principal nor interest They either commit suicide or land in jail for not paying loans Hospital competing with hotels Doctors busy in making money Patients treatment is on Sale Get cured only if you pay Stray Animals on the rise What you can do if you cry? Black money in circulation White money is called pollution Rapes, Murders and theft on rise Law and order is on the papers Lawyers are with Politicians Politicians are with Criminals Criminals are with the Police Police is with the Capitalists Only the God is with the victims That too only, if he really exists Population almost exploding Environment full of pollution Fights and quarrels here and there Religion and faith always on stake Caste and Classes everywhere Race and Religion everywhere Common people struggling for food Saints consuming wine and drugs Rallies and protests uprising The system has turned deaf Goddess of law weeping and bleeding Judges busy in process law and rules Timbeck Tyu,  Timbeck Tyu Such a great city Timbeck Tyu Have you liked Timbeck Tyu? Want to live in Timbeck Tyu? If you liked, Timbeck Tyu Want to live in Timbeck Tyu First apply for passport in your country Then apply for visa from Timbeck Tyu Hurry Up, Hurry Up, don't be late Visa's are limited so take care
0
May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 6:28 AM UTC
Great City
Timbeck Tyu,  Timbeck Tyu Great City Timbeck Tyu Coloured Walls Nicely Painted Arts and Drawing Everywhere Artifacts on every crossing People's representatives feel like king Magnificient buildings here and there Bridges and flyover everywhere Toll tax booth here and there Statues standing everywhere Banners hanging here and there Hoardings, posters everywhere Malls and Hotels here and there Dance Bars and Casinos everywhere Citizens always in Crisis Struggling with poverty Economical condition bad Politicians has gone mad Nationalism in Slogans Here and there hooligans Real nationalist are renamed They are called anti-nationals Corruption is on the peak You need license to speak Crowd imposes censorship System respects the crowd Mouse catches the Crow Everything on the show Real news not covered Real issues are untouched Fake news are implanted Press and Media on sale Laws are being twisted Burden of proof shifted Culprits are honoured Innocents are hanged Farmers are in debts Their families are starving They can't even pay their loans Neither Principal nor interest They either commit suicide or land in jail for not paying loans Hospital competing with hotels Doctors busy in making money Patients treatment is on Sale Get cured only if you pay Stray Animals on the rise What you can do if you cry? Black money in circulation White money is called pollution Rapes, Murders and theft on rise Law and order is on the papers Lawyers are with Politicians Politicians are with Criminals Criminals are with the Police Police is with the Capitalists Only the God is with the victims That too only, if he really exists Population almost exploding Environment full of pollution Fights and quarrels here and there Religion and faith always on stake Caste and Classes everywhere Race and Religion everywhere Common people struggling for food Saints consuming wine and drugs Rallies and protests uprising The system has turned deaf Goddess of law weeping and bleeding Judges busy in process law and rules Timbeck Tyu,  Timbeck Tyu Such a great city Timbeck Tyu Have you liked Timbeck Tyu? Want to live in Timbeck Tyu? If you liked, Timbeck Tyu Want to live in Timbeck Tyu First apply for passport in your country Then apply for visa from Timbeck Tyu Hurry Up, Hurry Up, don't be late Visa's are limited so take care
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80
All of the Gnomes from around the globe Just sneezed their very last sneeze They've had enough of this allergy stuff And from the garden they're taking their leave They packed up their bags,  donned their bonnet's and caps Left in the cover of night Said goodbye to the trees along with the birds and the bees And headed out for the big city life No one had a clue from which wind the Gnomes blew It was Wa-La they were suddenly there From Bankers to Lawyers to Tele-marketer callers They infiltrated every career Soon they were drinking like fountains as the bills started mounting With the pressures of the ride to the top Pills became an everyday need to stay awake and fall asleep Not sure when this madness will stop On top of it all they started to cough from the smog And wondered which one was the worst The garden allergies or this black lung disease Either way the Gnomes felt mankind's curse So they turned in their suits and their ill gotten loot And took a trip back to the suberbs Now in the garden they smile cause they know all the while Yes...it could be a lot worse
0
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 9:15 PM UTC
~Garden Gnomes~
look me in the eye and tell me that you love me or was it all a sad story that you unconsciously believed while you raided the fridge and fornicated wildly too late is not really an acceptable position and later on is usually an example of indecision and sometimes specimens reject their predicaments especially if they are eventually going to be your dinner i am sure that i am here to usher in a new authority resurrected like a phoenix i must be stronger than before so even if forever is often equivalent to never and september is the month of seven (or was it nine) serpents that are to be reborn in the dawn of Time's obsidian as our minds have spent oblivion in the forges of turgidly engorged shores, torn from their former continents as forms are always gripped in hands who choose intolerance  take administrators, lawyers, bureaucrats and clerks; as examples of this; par excellence
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Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 3:21 PM UTC
too late for dinner
You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand You see somebody naked and you say, "Who is that man?" You try so hard but you don't understand Just what you will say when you get home Because something is happening here but you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? You raise up your head and you ask, "Is this where it is?" And somebody points to you and says, "It's his" And you say, "What's mine?" and somebody else says, "Well, what is?" And you say, "Oh my God, am I here all alone?" But something is happening and you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? You hand in your ticket and you go watch the geek Who immediately walks up to you when he hears you speak And says, "How does it feel to be such a freak?" And you say, "Impossible!" as he hands you a bone And something is happening here but you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? You have many contacts among the lumberjacks To get you facts when someone attacks your imagination But nobody has any respect, anyway they already expect you to all give a check To tax-deductible charity organizations Ah, you've been with the professors and they've all liked your looks With great lawyers you have discussed lepers and crooks You've been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books You're very well-read, it's well-known But something is happening here and you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you and then he kneels He crosses himself and then he clicks his high heels And without further notice, he asks you how it feels And he says, "Here is your throat back, thanks for the loan" And you know something is happening but you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? Now, you see this one-eyed ****** shouting the word "Now" And you say, "For what reason?" and he says, "How" And you say, "What does this mean?" and he screams back, "You're a cow! Give me some milk or else go home" And you know something's happening but you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? Well, you walk into the room like a camel, and then you frown You put your eyes in your pocket and your nose on the ground There ought to be a law against you comin' around You should be made to wear earphones 'Cause something is happening and you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones?
0
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 12:54 PM UTC
Ballad of a thin Man ( Bob Dylan lyrics)
You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand You see somebody naked and you say, "Who is that man?" You try so hard but you don't understand Just what you will say when you get home Because something is happening here but you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? You raise up your head and you ask, "Is this where it is?" And somebody points to you and says, "It's his" And you say, "What's mine?" and somebody else says, "Well, what is?" And you say, "Oh my God, am I here all alone?" But something is happening and you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? You hand in your ticket and you go watch the geek Who immediately walks up to you when he hears you speak And says, "How does it feel to be such a freak?" And you say, "Impossible!" as he hands you a bone And something is happening here but you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? You have many contacts among the lumberjacks To get you facts when someone attacks your imagination But nobody has any respect, anyway they already expect you to all give a check To tax-deductible charity organizations Ah, you've been with the professors and they've all liked your looks With great lawyers you have discussed lepers and crooks You've been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books You're very well-read, it's well-known But something is happening here and you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you and then he kneels He crosses himself and then he clicks his high heels And without further notice, he asks you how it feels And he says, "Here is your throat back, thanks for the loan" And you know something is happening but you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? Now, you see this one-eyed ****** shouting the word "Now" And you say, "For what reason?" and he says, "How" And you say, "What does this mean?" and he screams back, "You're a cow! Give me some milk or else go home" And you know something's happening but you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? Well, you walk into the room like a camel, and then you frown You put your eyes in your pocket and your nose on the ground There ought to be a law against you comin' around You should be made to wear earphones 'Cause something is happening and you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones?
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46
**IMMEDIATELY PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF MY INFORMATION FROM YOUR DATA BASE FORTHWITH.  ALSO, ADVISE ANY AND ALL CONTRACTORS, SUB-CONTRACTORS, AGENTS, SUB-AGENTS, AFFILIATES, PARTNERS, COLLEAGUES, ASSOCIATES, CLIENTS, WEBMASTERS, WEB BASED LINKS, WINKS, TWINKS, COLONEL CLINCKS, BOSSES, CO-WORKERS, EMPLOYEES, VENDORS, SUPPLIERS, SALESMEN, ASCCOUNT REPS/EXCS, ACCOUNTANTS, BROKERS, CO-BROKERS, HACKERS, SLACKERS, WHACKERS, JERKS, PIMPS, HOES, HOBOS, BUMS, DERELICTS, DEGENERATES, DOPERS, DEALERS, TWEEKERS, GAMBLERS, RAMBLERS, SOLICITORS, SIDEKICKS, COHORTS, WINGMEN, WHEELMEN, LOOKOUTS, OUTLAWS, IN-LAWS, RELATIVES, FIANCES, GIRLFRIENDS, BOYFRIENDS, FAMILY, FRIENDS, ENEMIES, EVIL NEMISIS', CANVASSERS, INQUIRERS, QUEERS, QUEENS, COWBOYS, KINGS, **** DRAGS, HAGS, HETEROS, HOMOS, TONY ROMOS, FEMALE IMPERSONATORS, (PRE OR POST) MALE IMPERSONATORS, ***** ***** VAN ***** **** VAN **** LESBIANS, LIARS, BUYERS, CRYERS, CIGAR SMOKERS, CARPET MUNCHERS, RUG RATS, TODDLERS, TEENAGERS, YOUNGSTERS, SENIORS, SUCKERS, TRUCKERS, MOTHER shut yer mouth, LAW MAKERS, LAWYERS, ATTORNEYS, JUDGES, POLITICIANS, PECKERWOODS, LEADERS, FOLLOWERS, DISCIPLES, PROPHETS, EVANGELISTS, SAVIORS, SINNERS, SAINTS, SOOTHSAYERS, MEDICINE MEN, GYPSYS, TRAMPS, AND THIEVES, WITCHES, WARLOCKS, VAMPIRES, LYCANS, ZOMBIES, WAR MONGERS, PROTESTERS, SOLIDERS, GENERALS, GOVERNORS, PRESIDENTS, PATRIOTS, PACKERS, LIONS, BEARS, BROWNS, BLACKHAWKS, REDWINGS, RIGHT WING, LIBERALS, OR LAW BIDING CITIZENS, THEY ARE NOT TO CONTACT ME AND LOOSE MY NUMBER. BUT IF YOU SEE MY MOM, TELL HER TO CALL ME. ........................................................................BA-ZING....................................................................**
0
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
SPAMMER SMACKDOWN
**IMMEDIATELY PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF MY INFORMATION FROM YOUR DATA BASE FORTHWITH.  ALSO, ADVISE ANY AND ALL CONTRACTORS, SUB-CONTRACTORS, AGENTS, SUB-AGENTS, AFFILIATES, PARTNERS, COLLEAGUES, ASSOCIATES, CLIENTS, WEBMASTERS, WEB BASED LINKS, WINKS, TWINKS, COLONEL CLINCKS, BOSSES, CO-WORKERS, EMPLOYEES, VENDORS, SUPPLIERS, SALESMEN, ASCCOUNT REPS/EXCS, ACCOUNTANTS, BROKERS, CO-BROKERS, HACKERS, SLACKERS, WHACKERS, JERKS, PIMPS, HOES, HOBOS, BUMS, DERELICTS, DEGENERATES, DOPERS, DEALERS, TWEEKERS, GAMBLERS, RAMBLERS, SOLICITORS, SIDEKICKS, COHORTS, WINGMEN, WHEELMEN, LOOKOUTS, OUTLAWS, IN-LAWS, RELATIVES, FIANCES, GIRLFRIENDS, BOYFRIENDS, FAMILY, FRIENDS, ENEMIES, EVIL NEMISIS', CANVASSERS, INQUIRERS, QUEERS, QUEENS, COWBOYS, KINGS, **** DRAGS, HAGS, HETEROS, HOMOS, TONY ROMOS, FEMALE IMPERSONATORS, (PRE OR POST) MALE IMPERSONATORS, ***** ***** VAN ***** **** VAN **** LESBIANS, LIARS, BUYERS, CRYERS, CIGAR SMOKERS, CARPET MUNCHERS, RUG RATS, TODDLERS, TEENAGERS, YOUNGSTERS, SENIORS, SUCKERS, TRUCKERS, MOTHER shut yer mouth, LAW MAKERS, LAWYERS, ATTORNEYS, JUDGES, POLITICIANS, PECKERWOODS, LEADERS, FOLLOWERS, DISCIPLES, PROPHETS, EVANGELISTS, SAVIORS, SINNERS, SAINTS, SOOTHSAYERS, MEDICINE MEN, GYPSYS, TRAMPS, AND THIEVES, WITCHES, WARLOCKS, VAMPIRES, LYCANS, ZOMBIES, WAR MONGERS, PROTESTERS, SOLIDERS, GENERALS, GOVERNORS, PRESIDENTS, PATRIOTS, PACKERS, LIONS, BEARS, BROWNS, BLACKHAWKS, REDWINGS, RIGHT WING, LIBERALS, OR LAW BIDING CITIZENS, THEY ARE NOT TO CONTACT ME AND LOOSE MY NUMBER. BUT IF YOU SEE MY MOM, TELL HER TO CALL ME. ........................................................................BA-ZING....................................................................**
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4
F for the fistfights I was asked to sit out of, because I was born with a different set of genitals E for the equal rights I've been begging for, only to be let down time and over again M for all the military applications that weren't even reviewed, because I seemed unfit for not having a pair of nuts I for the inferno that you made me feel, fighting so hard to be a pilot that was obviously only ' a man's job ' N for the number of convictions the guy who ***** his girlfriend didn't have to face, because the way she dressed up showed that she "wanted"it I for all the immoral stares that I couldn't counter back for the fear of your lawyers defending you saying it was a friendly one, for the fear of you blaming the shorts and crop top that I picked out for that lovely Sunday S for all the standards that women themselves set for themselves, ***** standards; I'll do what I want and say what I want, I'll eat what and I want and dress the way that I feel like I need to, I'll wear bikinis that probably doesn't flatter my body and height but you know what? I don't give two flying f**ks M for the mortals that made it necessary for feminism to even exist
0
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 11:07 AM UTC
Feminism
She was vengeful. But against whom could she retribute her vengeance? The rich guy who ***** her and ruined her life? The police for harassing her in the name of interrogation? Lawyers who tormented her and ***** her all over again with the twenty questions? The inconsiderate jury who were bent on paying their children's school fees? The lab assistant for lying to the jury that she had absolutely no sign of being ***** and she was making this up only because she got pregnant in the act? The parents and teachers of the evil vandal who made him that way? The media who were more interested in making it to the front page rather than sympathizing with her? The government for taking safety precautions so lightly? Neighbours who looked her down with contempt? Or herself for not being strong enough to protect herself. Whom could she blame?
0
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 1:34 PM UTC
Vengeance
Thirty Hours Who are these men, Do they have daughters, Mothers, sisters, granddaughters? Do they call tenderly their loving Wives Their ****** Behind closed doors? Thirty hours In the country I live, love and worry and wonder about... This is Justice blinded, But worse, Publicly, proclaiming, I am Deaf and Dumb, And lost in Her way. Thirty hours. I too, have a question. Have you no shame? --------------------------- WASHINGTON — For roughly 30 hours over several days, defense lawyers for three former United States Naval Academy football players grilled a female midshipman about her ****** habits. In a public hearing, they asked the woman, who has accused the three athletes of ****** her, whether she wore a bra, how wide she opened her mouth during oral *** and whether she had apologized to another midshipman with whom she had *********** “for being a ** http://www.nytimes.com/2013/09/21/us/intrusive-grilling-in-rape-case-raises-alarm-on-military-hearings.html?emc=eta1&_r=0
0
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 9:57 AM UTC
Thirty Hours ("lawyers" grilled a female midshipman about her ****** habits)
It was great for a time *** and wine Wine and *** Then commitment and open and shut curtains. Special delivery of child made the bond complete Six months down the line Breast feeding was action watched from a distance Intimacy was a tired look The neighbours cat looked hot Killed the lonely nights Killed the commitment outright Got to know the lawyer through rapid bank withdrawals Weekly child visit watched over by Brutus Bar visits watched over by the world's condemned Special occasion became a twice yearly treat Birthday and Christmas, bit of hate thrown sideways. Then the new man. Felt good for her. Maybe some pressure off. Maybe missed that lobotomy bar lecture. Years dragged the hate forward. Time moved on. One day I wrote her a letter expressing my anger. She wrote back in triplicate. I wrote back in double triplicate. She sent a thesis on men and ***** Suddenly without thinking, we had dialogue. After a while, we moved on from the anger. We became human again. I actually liked writing her letters and receiving them. We never got back together. But the letters kept us close. Sometimes there would be a kiss at the end. The little bit of love I probably never deserved. I would mention it to her in my next letter. Even an *** deserves a solitary kiss now and again. The bar room lawyers would probably agree.
0
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 9:14 AM UTC
The Letters.
Asylum In the madhouse on beds of daggers we slept like crickets chirping to ourselves while they tried their best to make us cannibals. The nuns were worse than lawyers, praying like accordions, tracking their sins into our soft wax skulls, wheezing like roosters when one of us cried, laying the greasy ribs of Jesus on our plates. They kept you behind door number six. I'd go to you with a stolen key, when the noon smelled bright as carnations, when the nights were more purple than the jacarandas. You spoke of your father dead of snakebite, a clockwork marvel with his million-dollar suit of skin, of your mother with the viper between her lips. I remember your kiss astringent with reason as bitter lemons, and the way your hair blew back from your dog-brown eyes like poisonous smoke from the oleanders. I thought these things as beautiful as angels whispering in the dahlias when I was lost in the asylum, when the doctors did all they could to see that we ate each other down to the bone. April 2022
0
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 8:54 AM UTC
Asylum
Silver screen athletes quitting soccer teams to join homophobic friends (redneck quasi outdoors-men) who just want to **** animals angst must be vented lest it boil inside and form a much darker concoction. I beat the horse 'till I couldn't get it wrong even then the faceless desks of power endorse eugenics, pharmaceuticals, and high profile lawyers sentencing me to a life's term teaching Sophocles to an uninterested fifteen year old too busy stroking a Ritalin limp **** to star censored ladies on Vegas stripper cards. And he said "Watch your language" when I said "What the ****
0
Jan 13, 2011
Jan 13, 2011 at 3:10 PM UTC
The Man