"legitimacy" poems
I want to compel,
all the people to tell,
of their travels,
their hardships, b
and times that went well.
The love that was shared,
and hate that was bared.
Is a part of your life,
if you truly cared.
Twas fear
that berated the souls of the earth.
With pain contemplated,
the flame lost its hearth.
But when claims no one stated,
begin to unearth.
The stains we created,
start losing their worth.
For what is fear without worries to fuel it? Darkness may make it,
but governments mule it.
Realize,
this fear isn't real,
and misinformation,
is all you've been fed.
Then you'll start to ponder,
is this life even real?
Is there any legitimacy,
in all the things that they've said?
There is nothing hiding
in your closet or bed.
And there are less evil people,
than in the news that you've read.
This idea was created,
so they wouldn't be blamed.
But you won't be jaded,
you cannot not be tamed.
The people that faded,
that still are unnamed.
You fight for their memory,
cause they'd do the same.
You Stand for their ideals,
And keep them all close.
Feel all of the feels,
cheerful or morose.
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 10:03 PM UTC
Feel the strengths of vein that hold the whole of your neck!
A life of loose you live on believe
A hope, a Faith even when you barely know a god.
****** juz be like:#OluwaIsInvolved
Your father owns an Estate, even a country built in Gold
The #Street remains a #Paradise
You'll wanna go, even if you have to be named #Devil
You drop your #Pride like it never mattered
To gather a better world
Where you'd be worshiped as #Boss
You chase a #Bigger dream that the oldest in your family won't dare.
Rub-in all pains that attaining #LandNeverPromised would wanna bear
You #Focus , patiently hoping for what is never #Certained
You #Beg your 'Luck' more than the rate you beg your #God
To meet the #One that would bring you the #PayDay of no accountable #Duty
#Legitimacy becomes the most irritating Slogan you'll Cause your brethren that ever utters.
Authority, a #Foe that would stop you from dressing #TooLoud,
Anything you ever #Wished links way back to #Money
#MoneyMustBeMade the only #Pledge that keeps echoing in your brain
A #Brain that works only to unlawfully take from the token of a #Brother
With the #Vengeance-filled mind of eradicating Poverty that denied you of a better #Background,
When you have a #PayDay, you still long for a million more
In a better fold that could last you many more #Lifetime
Then, you pick back the #Pride you allayed for a while so #Long
Now reflect that part of you.
That part, you rebuked a #RichYoungDude earlier on for
Or the #Angelic one you would ever love a #Philanthropist for
Remain on the #LowestKey for 'a now's ' while
To be at the #HighestKey, even under the deepest ground
And keep your #Brain more opened than #YourEyes
While you make the only thing that keep you going as #GodBlessTheHustle
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 3:00 PM UTC
There is an algorithm out there,
somewhere on the web
it is calculating my every click
my likes, my comments
how many hours I spend at night
browsing poetry
or probably ****
There is an algorithm out there,
somewhere on the web
it collects my style, my taste
it knows my favorite color,
it has studied my face
the way no lover ever has,
down to the freckle.
There is an algorithm out there,
somewhere on the web
it knows things about me
my friends or family would never ask.
It knows how many times
I have searched the word 'suicide'
how many times I asked for nudes
and how many times I received.
It knows my greatest fears
but also my most coveted dreams.
It knows things about me
I may have forgotten about me.
There is an algorithm out there,
somewhere on the web
it has created an image of me
I would rather not see
nor believe in its legitimacy
yet every time I go to type
its guesses my next thought
with pinpoint accuracy.
There is an algorithm out there...
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 6:03 PM UTC
11/9/2014
it’s not a question
of whether or not
but rather how
your crooked elbow
hangs over my collarbone
as you reach for your phone
lying procumbent on wherever
the circumstances have placed
us
whether it is a dorm bed or
a basement couch me sitting up in a cold
sweat
or the red of my sunburn on the white
sheets of my july bed
it’s never been a question of state
no matter where the state
until i’m sitting
staring at the empty space you left
next to me or
in my head.
it’s not a question of legitimacy
with the intimacy in your tethered
voice suggesting otherwise
but i can’t help but despise
wild intricacies of time.
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 6:24 PM UTC
When you smile
Your teeth tell a story
Of never ending words
And endless punctuation.
When you smile,
I can smell your breath
Wreaking of every stale cigarette
And every stale memory
That has ever polluted your tongue
And that you continue to relive
And that stain every word
That you let spill
Recklessly
From what you call a mouth.
Every time you flash that
Maybelline painted smile
I pity what you were born with
Every time you smile,
I cant help but feel smug
My smile doesn’t stain my words
Betraying my secrets
My displayed sense of happiness is neither false
Nor does it stretch on forever
Like some bad Friday night
With a bad date
In a bad place
That you call “fun”.
My smile in not tainted
By a lifestyle the breeds regret
With all it’s unprotected endeavors.
But somehow
With all your flaws
Your inability to make a
Self preserving decision
You still remain victorious.
Over my honest to goodness
Absolute genuine attempts
At legitimacy.
Nov 18, 2011
Nov 18, 2011 at 10:33 AM UTC
Fighting on the front lines
With red pens
For creativity,
For independent thought,
For common sense
Not Common Core
This is a battle in a bureaucratic war we’re losing
Keep pushing and shoving against an impenetrable wall
But we’re only foot soldiers, not actually giving orders
Kids look down on us and they ask,
“Will this be on the test?”
And say,
“Get out of my face.”
Here’s what I wonder: Why is “mistake” a forbidden word?
Taught by parent(s) to resist.
These are Kids who fail to create
But recite, recall, and retaliate
School is no longer a safe haven
Testing, testing, 1-2-3 hundred murdered students, teachers
Safety off and then off
And
Still off
Hanging by a thread and losing the grip a little more every day
Following the curriculum map to X marks the standardized test.
We dig and
Dig and
Dig
For the buried treasure trove of teaching magic. The legitimacy and respect our careers deserve. The money, the time, the love, the support.
But it’s buried under so much testing and red tape, and so
We fail.
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 7:42 AM UTC
resuming textual trip
testing experimental procedures
visualizing model tsunami
augmenting facetious environment
catching abstract architecture
noticing rhythmic exchange
projecting subtextual database
airhorning reggae royalty
adding atypical party
resolving twitter question
noticing emotional mission
awaiting emotional dialect
installing metaphorical experiment
intensifying animated trip
displaying dynamic victory
programming abstract development
releasing emotional exchange
deriving fata morgana
glorifying referential sequence
intensifying facetious map
noticing harmonic trip
observing radical ratio
compiling nomadic message
predating google rebranding
reticulating facetious panda
using hyperreal feedback
exploring virtual panda
speculating graphic gallery
throwing mundane exception
targeting graphic experiment
replenishing emotional trap
localizing asemic animal
dropping rhythmic trip
propagating immortal experiment
displaying lowercase database
invading orange bubbles
crashing animated trip
running conceptual topography
remembering collapsed buildings
crashing hyperreal coverage
propagating hyperreal stipulation
finishing western library
envisioning neon tessellation
reciprocating network likes
processing animated device
releasing haptic quality
examining building seven
awaiting rhapsodical ratio
sampling death sauce
sensing lowercase clone
examining symbolic tour
processing potential development
encapsulating spatial lottery
displaying digital paragraph
reticulating theoretical source
perpetuating western paragraph
transmitting monochromatic structure
anticipating ambient quality
transmitting asemic environment
intensifying atomic quality
remastering history poem
keeping future light
hypothesizing eternal game
using future library
rearranging masonic language
transmitting masonic development
continuing ceremonial ritual
questioning party's legitimacy
deferring western coverage
finishing asemic hypertext
mollifying ostentatious presence
synthesizing allegorical icon
forming categorical unions
sketching app wireframe
programming immortal repository
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
I’ve always had certain
thoughts
that manifest as forbidden plays
performed privately only in
a mental stage
I always swore
to keep unspoken,
unwritten and
eternally unprocessed
in hopes that
keeping it ineffable
and far away from explanation
would shield it from the
soul-draining burden
of legitimacy.
But the longer
I keep these things
an embarrassing secret,
and the longer I insist
that in my every thought
lies shame best kept suppressed,
the more I realize
that maybe the reason that I,
like every animate creature
stumbling through their earthly existence,
have come to condemn an abrasive world
for never understanding me,
stems from every human’s destructive habit
of refusing to understand the parts of ourselves
the world will never accept.
And what we never realize
is that we are the world—
sponsoring our own
oppression and feeling as responsible
as every snowflake in the avalanche.
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 3:24 PM UTC
The color of lost time
The color of white on an horizon
The color of midnight in the garden of words
The color of sound pealing in a vast sea of bluebells
The color of thought indentured to compelling
Imunities that complain of authenticities so intence
There are cloistered calls for an incantatory language
of soft colored vowels a,e,i,o,u
In an enigmatic language of legitimacy
That wrests the color of colors from themselves
And provides a history of the world in 13 tweets
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 2:03 PM UTC
*“O thou invisible spirit of wine,
if thou hast no name to be known by,
let us call thee devil!”-William Shakespeare*
It's cold outside and colder in here
Under the surprising privacy
of a blaring crowd
I gleefully lose myself
Put on my pseudo-smile
and talk to my pseudo-friends.
Maybe even forget it.
Forget that I feel like a set of floating eyes
Forget that we're all mounds of flesh and hair
Forget
Forget you all
My eyes are brick walls and fence posts
And I am opening the gate to all in sight
I watch my ethos come crashing down
with every increasingly true glance
of yet another Siren.
Only under the blare and blur
of that frozen house
Could I have ever mistaken formality
(or the lack of)
for some sort of kindness or legitimacy.
I've nothing to say to you
but my mouth keeps moving
I've no joy to give to you
but my face keeps smiling
Curse the fate of the hidden one
destined to reveal himself
under most forgettable circumstances
I didn't remember much,
but let us be honest:
when the sun rises
(as it also does)
and your burning eyes long
for lost innocence and vitality
The air will pulse and the room will echo
but I will be gone:
and I'm taking your memory of me
as a parting gift.
Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 3:32 PM UTC
I ponder of something great on a sonderous level can a man a sentient being ever exist like an omnipotent being
am I just a subsidized being is the vanity of a self-absorbed world
the pneumatic indifferent fascist question my legitimacy so I question the society of a world more cold and more active than an incestuous birdy and the bee
They question an artesian hand slightly smaller than the average man yet the
significance of the difference in that artesian is not the manic who refused me
embarrassed me
rumored me
****** me to a dark inexsistant inbetween
the coldness of a lover never to be
because she is in league but out of reach
like a lion her simple minded pedagogy has left her to everything and everyone
as she is not mine and I am not hers just the birdy and the defective bee
a farce love story the ending of a never beginning trip why o so dramatic
because I just can’t help falling in love with one
a selfish self absorbed vanity in a repugnant world disgustingly this pedagogy stays to me like glue on this dying bee
this is true of our starcrossed unrequited drug induced comatose that put me into this ponderous level
the inevitability of what truly will never be yet for some reason these
sounderously significantly radical thought I ponder just like a pneumatic bot
have you ever felt this lost
this cold dark nonexistent in-between
a limbless sentient rushed in the ever invoking might of hysteric emotion
I ponder this cold and warming toiling notion
The one like a lion can you and will you requite and love me
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 8:44 PM UTC
When did our society **** the genuine meaning of sorry?
In essence it is a word that should be seldom used and rarely heard.
Yet, we apologize for the most trivial of actions.
Mutations caused by insecurities result in a new purpose.
Now it feels as though it has become a faulty substitution for confidence.
Do not be sorry about character traits and emotions.
Sorry is a desperate word; a last ditch effort.
It requires the complete disregard of ones pride to utter.
"I was wrong and I am sorry."
The times that it is used correctly are memorable.
The look in the eyes of a loved one that screams of remorse.
The acceptance or rejection of the attempt at redemption.
Slowly, sorry has lost its legitimacy among people.
Those who have no other plan of action are met with denial:
all because of the incessant overuse.
I weep at the death of the word.
"Sometimes sorry does not cut it!"
But sometimes, saying sorry is all I know how to do...
...and it is a great starting place for growth.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 2:06 AM UTC
I can savor
The taste of fear
Riding upon the wind
As turbulently
As your troubled mind
Seeks desperately
To understand the mortality of this moment
The life and death mechanics of reality
The realization
That we are to die
As evident of the staccato pant
Of your futile labour
Frivolous at best
Arouses a sense
Of ******* justice
Hard truths
Brought to bear witness of
Your infidelities
Your betrayal
Lies
Aborning of arsenic
Sputters froth
From your womb
Searing traces of bitterness
Cascades a corrupted truth
Transformed into an ugliness
That has become us
Two hearts that once beat as one
Cast fervently
Into a cold war
Unrelenting hatred
Reciprocated
Ricochet
Unmitigated threats
Wounds
That cannot be reprieved
How did we get here?
Do you even care-
To ponder the thought?
How
I once loved thee
A dream shattered
By the realization of now
But
The now I can live with
The thought of losing you I cannot
**** this relationship
Endure
I must
For the taste of you
Is the sake of me
My sustenance
I close my eyes
In perusal of happier times
When life was bearable
Abruptly
I'm jolted out of my reverie
By hilt of your scorn
Protruding from my chest
Animately
I touch
As if to confirm its legitimacy
A reason for its being
Overwhelmed by solemn peace
I collapse in passive supplication
And as she turns and walk away
Contemptuous
Of the final utterance
To flee my lips
I forgive you
I ponder
If she ever
Loved me at all
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 12:20 PM UTC
I crave to be an owner,
Sedulous and true,
Striving to become a gainer,
Knowing exactly what to do.
The formula is to take a pledge,
To preach authenticity and be determined,
Steadfast with my thoughts that fledge,
No matter, to what we may be destined.
Ensuring a good state for the wage-earners,
By protecting them with economic shields,
Harnessing all my morals and manners,
Adopting legitimacy and making fair yields.
Civil service, civil trust,
Lawful endeavor is a must.
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 12:50 AM UTC
Dubious sense of unresolved ambivalence
Given to implausible suppositions of fragmentation
That distinguishes itself in well meaning solemnities
Of delicious incompetence that evaporates distance
In its poignant lament of darkness
That shadows words of cruelty, indifference and rage
Oh how unbearable those misadventures of piteous overthrows
That cram into brief utterances more meaning
Than language can hold and force a confrontation
Of unresolvable contradictions hidden in such speech
That are the stilling of time, those words that find expression
In a mystic power that transforms darkness into intense light
Whilst blocking out the harsh unforgiving light of everyday
And causes mutation and change of place in disorienting fashion
In seeking a loyalty of angers by shifts of dramatic register
Views its own meaning unstable and problematic
In defense of its own legitimacy
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 5:52 PM UTC
Lately I have been over taken by a strange urge to high five a sloth. In truth I cannot explain this
at least with any sense of legitimacy.
I just feel like it needs to happen.
When it does it will be like me building a bridge.
Across species?
Maybe a class or phylum?
I have not taken biology so i don't know jack about this hierarchy of life business.
I also feel like sloths can teach us more than we can teach them
Like our lives are so fast paced
like a race and we are struggling to get to a finish line
That doesn't exist...
Sloths are like slow the **** down...
It'll be okay...
You'll get there...
I promise.
I kinda think i need that in my life.
A person...
or a sloth...
to just tell me it'll be alright.
I try and be that for so many other people
But I'm constantly losing my ****
on the inside.
Like most of the time
I'm fine
I can manage life
But that fear of dying
alone
unloved
It's always there
In the back of my mind
That can get the upper hand if my guard is down...
That **** scares me...
It's an irrational fear
I know that I am loved by many
I got buckets of love in this *****
makin the Cosby's blush with all this love.
But still this emptiness persist...
like i am incomplete on some level
Like i have to fix myself
But I know on a conscious level that..
I am enough.
But on some other level
I don't fully believe this...
And I need someone to tell me this...
I need to highfive a sloth...
Jul 27, 2012
Jul 27, 2012 at 10:26 PM UTC
As Children of The Almighty,
we have the God-given ability
to rise up, without the shame
of knowing who we really are,
despite our souls’ fragility.
Have we been taught and shown
Love, Mercy, Grace, Forgiveness
and Peace that we require daily?
So what is holding us back now,
from overcoming this human mess
of feeling inadequate or ignorant?
About 90% of The World is headed
towards Hell, unconvinced about
the legitimacy of the Christian
Lifestyle, whereby God’s embedded
His Presence and power is in us.
We’re not meant to be superfluous,
seeing that we’re supposed to be
both the hands and feet of Christ.
So The World remains nonplussed,
plagued by their own doubts, which
is reinforced by our poor treatment
of them; our continued failures to
walk in Love, reflects our inability
to thrive with joyous contentment.
.
.
.
Author notes
Inspired by:
Luke 10:19; Eph 1:3-141 Cor 12:27;
Rom 12:9-21; Matt 5:13-16
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 1:34 PM UTC
last night in my dream
a girl wore a necklace
not a tourniquet
or blouse
or skirt,
just a necklace
i remember her well
she was a girl that i work with
i'd be with her now but
she hasn't told me i'm worth it
last night in my dream
a girl told the naked truth
her words were full of worth
of care
and legitimacy
and then we got down
and took
care of
the
nitty
-gritty
Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 11:48 PM UTC
The moon hangs half cocked
Between the condominiums
Swallowed half in shadow
It still gasps for air
With its dead lips out to space.
Went 0/4 tonight and still was a star. Sequins are the new legitimacy. Fingers, the new lies.
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 1:24 PM UTC
I arrived anonymous,
Mother's tongue raising no eyebrows in this town of travellers.
Settling together in our disparate roles,
We gingerly trade skills and share tales.
Our alien conventions lack legitimacy here,
A tender fog cushioning idiosyncrasies.
In hometowns,
Once-tranquil homes become restless.
But in this enclave,
Foreigners feather new nests.
...Until Basel is where we belong.
Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 4:24 AM UTC
I often find myself being Governed by Idiots of moderate Intelligence,
Not Governed, necessarily, in any Political sense;
Governed or Controlled by someone in a position of Power:
Whether within a Company or a Bureaucratic hierarchy; or a Job Description (An"Expert" or "Executor" );
Or someone with physical superiority or gender qualification.
Whatever, whenever, however --> Some people abuse their Authority over others.
Some in Authority have worked hard and diligently to reach their positions -->
My hat off to them: Good Luck and Congratulations;
You obviously deserve the Privileges attached to the Responsibilities.
I have no qualm with such Authorities,
Providing they don't abuse the Social Trust (too much...).
However, there are many People invested with a modicum
Of Authority that so Deceives them;
These People are self-conceited delusionists,
Ever eager to swagger and boast and abuse Their given Trust -->
A modicum of Authority with a modicum of Intelligence
Is tantamount to disaster for someone else.
Unfortunately, that someone is often vulnerable to the Abuse;
Someone given to being Victimised,
Either by Age or Gender or Sexuality;
Or by physical weakness or Belief or Conviction;
Or by circumstance or timing or just plain Bad Luck.
I'll accept most Trivial abuses of Authority -->
Good Luck to them, providing it doesn't impact Me and Mine too greatly.
However, there are those instances of abused Authority
That can destroy People's lives, either directly,
Or attempt to destroy or damage People's Lives,
For No Good Reason, other than They can.
These Abusers of Authority **** ME OFF no end
And They Must Be Stopped, Weeded Out and Put in Their Place.
They have no Consideration for Others
And the damage done can last a Lifetime.
Enough --> F**k You, ******** Pull Your Head In Before You Lose It!
Too often the Abuser is absolved of Responsibility;
Too often They hide behind a smoke-screen of Legitimacy;
Too often These Idiots Abuse because They can get away with it -->
They wear the Uniform;
They have a purview for Order or Peace or Protection.
Don't get Me wrong -
In the Heat of the Moment, Things Happen, Good or Bad,
And Mistakes are Lessons learnt the Hard Way;
Accept Your Responsibility along with your Authority;
Front up and give a True Account
According to the Facts and Your Decision(s) for Action;
Accept that SomeThings are as They are - UnReasonable as They may Be.
Don't Abuse Your Authority!
TRUST ME --> YOU'LL REGRET IT!
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 4:10 AM UTC
Pretend to me, like a clown/actor, to be strong and violent. You fight like mothers ease their children into sleep, begging and praying. The fight in you is a cartoon predator selling candy to stoners. I never considered myself someone to contemplate the legitimacy of strangers, but I don't know you or your motives.
I don't know you.
I love like a hawk tears into a sparrow.
Viscerally, yet naturally.
Savagely.
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 12:26 AM UTC
I have read my last cliché line, and spoke my last ambiguous truth. I’ve found the lack of principle in mankind, comes in both old age and in youth. One born from lack of days, passing beyond so few a night. The other hardened from too many wrongs, being passed along as ubiquitous rights. Truth finding no firm a ground, to grow without contempt. From those whole look to yield its might, and twist it with malicious intent. Those footed in ill-fated hypocrisy, both by practice and in speech. Principle scorn from lips once pure, forged by what life’s path can teach. And though the values of an honorable man preside, at the conclusion of every poetic line. The truth that’s found between each word, can make a man think he is divine. Spoken with word as sweat as red wine, he believes the world drink with thirst. Or so thinks the man who speaks frivolously, without hearing his own words first. So he drinks in his own narcissism, as his words ring forever true. In his nostalgic mind that never changes, or lets in sound anew. And that once juvenile and prospective boy, whose suns were few to shine. Has become a toughened old man, whose life has yet to be defined. By a principle worth shouting, to the heavens and beyond. Beyond his many nights and far more days, who hold to him a bond. Of servitude to his truth, regardless of its legitimacy. That which forges what will be his legacy, for everyone to see.
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 5:25 AM UTC
Can you feel the caress of the Northern wind, as it screeches across the baron plateau of the anthropological crack and strokes the contours of your oily façade?
The slippery blackness of this gale interferes with the propagation of ambivalent feminine intertwines.
Herbal remedies have cast their fragrance into the arms of Ashtoreth.
Therefore, you must now investigate the callous and empathic chords of my legitimacy, and I promise to blend my classical resonance with your deplorable soul.
If this is a public inquiry, then I must set sail from the dock and traverse unchartered horizons, with my tank filled with the required fuel.
Let us placate the earth, together as we unleash extravagant ceremonies of ****** ferocity.
We have swam across the laughter of the Sea of Clouds in this lunar expression of divorce.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 11:54 PM UTC