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"liberal" poems
Lies are lies they deny you the truth. Truth is truth it denies you the lie. when examined closely both are exactly the same. They are interchangeable. People that tell the "truth" to you are denying you lies. How boring and dangerous and malevolent are people full of truth. Choose your religious truth--- Christian truth. Islamic truth. Judaic truth. Vedic Hindoo truth. Buddist truth. Capitalist truth. Socialist truth. Free market truth. Managed market truth. Monarchist truth. Democratic truth. Militarist truth. Liberal truth. Fascist truth. People that tell lies to you are denying you truthfulness. How boring and dangerous and malevolent are people full of lies. Choose your lies. Christian lies. Islamic lies. Judaic lies. Vedic Hindoo lies. Buddist lies. Capitalist lies. Socialist lies. Free market lies. Managed market lies. Monarchist lies. Democratic lies. Militarist lies. Liberal lies. Fascist lies. Truthfulness is neither truth nor lies. It exists on its own. Truthfulness is free of the Duality of Truth and Lies.. The individual Isness exists in the state of Separate and Merged with the Isness of the Universe. Permanent Mindlessness is unconditional love--just ask any Dog or Cat. The Mind separates us from the Isness of the Universe. The Mind creates Duality which is governed by Conditional Love. The individual Isness creates Unconditional Love(Consciousness) which is outside Duality. Mind cannot create Unconditional Love. The individual Isness cannot create Conditional Love. If you have Mind/Conditioned Identity in your head you cannot love Unconditionally. If you do not have Mind/Conditioned Identity then you can only love Unconditionally. If you have Mind and Conditioned Identity  you cannot be Merged with the Isness of the Universe. If you are Mindless and Conditioned Identityless you are merged with the Isness of the Universe. Conditional Love says I love you on Condition I can hate you. Unconditional Love says I will never stop loving you but I may dissapprove of your actions but I will never hate you because I cannot hate.. Conditional Love is selective--it only applies to Family and Friends and fellow GroupMind members. Unconditional Love is not selective--it applies to every living being--human or otherwise. Unconditional Love does not see people as Friends and Enemies. Unconditional Love sees people as individual Isness incarnated in bodies. Humans are deceived by the Mind into believing that the Conditioned Identity is their true Identity and deceived by the Mind into believing that they should leave the running of their brains and therefore their lives to the Mind. The individual Isness is a small but equal individual independent, nameless,formless,genderless,autonomous portion of the Isness of the Universe that people controlled by Mind are taught to call a Soul. The Soul is just another Mind created Conditioned Identity. The Atman is just another Mind created Conditioned Identity. The individual  Isness is formed from a small but equal portion of the essence of the Isness of the Universe and incarnated in a Human Body of either Gender-_male or female of any skin colour. www.beyondenlightenment.co.uk
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Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 1:24 AM UTC
Truth and Lies and Truthfulness and the Isness of the Universe
Lies are lies they deny you the truth. Truth is truth it denies you the lie. when examined closely both are exactly the same. They are interchangeable. People that tell the "truth" to you are denying you lies. How boring and dangerous and malevolent are people full of truth. Choose your religious truth--- Christian truth. Islamic truth. Judaic truth. Vedic Hindoo truth. Buddist truth. Capitalist truth. Socialist truth. Free market truth. Managed market truth. Monarchist truth. Democratic truth. Militarist truth. Liberal truth. Fascist truth. People that tell lies to you are denying you truthfulness. How boring and dangerous and malevolent are people full of lies. Choose your lies. Christian lies. Islamic lies. Judaic lies. Vedic Hindoo lies. Buddist lies. Capitalist lies. Socialist lies. Free market lies. Managed market lies. Monarchist lies. Democratic lies. Militarist lies. Liberal lies. Fascist lies. Truthfulness is neither truth nor lies. It exists on its own. Truthfulness is free of the Duality of Truth and Lies.. The individual Isness exists in the state of Separate and Merged with the Isness of the Universe. Permanent Mindlessness is unconditional love--just ask any Dog or Cat. The Mind separates us from the Isness of the Universe. The Mind creates Duality which is governed by Conditional Love. The individual Isness creates Unconditional Love(Consciousness) which is outside Duality. Mind cannot create Unconditional Love. The individual Isness cannot create Conditional Love. If you have Mind/Conditioned Identity in your head you cannot love Unconditionally. If you do not have Mind/Conditioned Identity then you can only love Unconditionally. If you have Mind and Conditioned Identity  you cannot be Merged with the Isness of the Universe. If you are Mindless and Conditioned Identityless you are merged with the Isness of the Universe. Conditional Love says I love you on Condition I can hate you. Unconditional Love says I will never stop loving you but I may dissapprove of your actions but I will never hate you because I cannot hate.. Conditional Love is selective--it only applies to Family and Friends and fellow GroupMind members. Unconditional Love is not selective--it applies to every living being--human or otherwise. Unconditional Love does not see people as Friends and Enemies. Unconditional Love sees people as individual Isness incarnated in bodies. Humans are deceived by the Mind into believing that the Conditioned Identity is their true Identity and deceived by the Mind into believing that they should leave the running of their brains and therefore their lives to the Mind. The individual Isness is a small but equal individual independent, nameless,formless,genderless,autonomous portion of the Isness of the Universe that people controlled by Mind are taught to call a Soul. The Soul is just another Mind created Conditioned Identity. The Atman is just another Mind created Conditioned Identity. The individual  Isness is formed from a small but equal portion of the essence of the Isness of the Universe and incarnated in a Human Body of either Gender-_male or female of any skin colour. www.beyondenlightenment.co.uk
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67
On my skin I wear the bands of shielded sun. Commitment to the heart makes this skin colour run. With one liberal hand, I tear down these branches being hung, to shower in yellowed leaf confetti. These forest roots ran like hair line skull fractures, under canopies blooming red from the sunlight rapture and now these trees leave their taller brothers to fall as ashes, with ivy on my ankles, stifling hope up to my chin. Living memories, my forest sheltered, scrambled for home; small pretty beasts, unrefined, breathing caricatures with bones. Screaming they beg for attention, inattentive to this situation as a whole. Our own view is all we can consider. This house of cards built on paper-cuts, from the trees before. I'm now growing wiser to my winter freeze and your summer thaw. I need all of these things I hate about me, and they can never be ignored; a psychological pre-disposition, the only one I can afford.
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Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 10:59 AM UTC
Deforestation of sunbeams
White man, right man Seriously uptight man Black man, whack man, Cutting him no slack man. Red man, dead man Never be the headman. Brown man, down man. Treat him like a clown man. Stereotypes, stereotypes! Notice how it rhymes with hype? The habit of the ******** A bitter fruit that’s always ripe. Poor man, for sure man, Can’t afford a ***** man. Waiting on the shore man, Sweeping out the store man. Broke man, stroke man Too poor to smoke man. Struggle under yoke man. **** of every joke man. Stereotypes, stereotypes! Notice how it rhymes with hype? The habit of the ******** A bitter fruit that’s always ripe. Fey man, gay man Nothing more to say man. Please just go away man. No equal rights today man. Liberal man or little man Nothing but a middle man. Playing second fiddle man. Never solve the riddle man. Stereotypes, stereotypes! Notice how it rhymes with hype? The habit of the ******** A bitter fruit that’s always ripe.
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Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
STEREOTYPING POOL
Tick tock, Tick tock, Tock Tock ticking Clocks cluck, catching curious cries Several seconds slide, slowly sticking Eclectic evil ever eager to eat out eyes Tock tock, tick tick Tock danger dances down, depicting doom Hands hold hearts heavily in hock aren't all able to articulately assume? Clock is currently counting costs justifying jumps and juggling jacks tabulating time that is tossed lightening liberal lust and loving lax tick tick tick, tick tick tick destination is a detonation despised tock tock tock, tock tock tock sheep sleep soundly shrouded, so surprised
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May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 2:50 AM UTC
Tick Tock, Counts the Clock (alliteration)
*I began as an accident,  but what I know is no accident. I sprouted up in rural America as a white girl-child so what I learned was learned through white girl-child eyes. I grew to become a liberal white queer woman so what I perceive is through liberal white queer woman’s eyes. I thrive as a creator, a dreamer, an artist, so what I experience is experienced as a creator, a dreamer, an artist. Who are you to say what I merit? Who are you? You began. You sprouted up. You grew to become. [I hope] You thrive. Who am I to say what you deserve? Who am I to say? I am me to say. I am not to say for you. You are not to say for me. For you are to say for you. and I for me. And that, dear friends should be no privilege.*
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Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
Entitlement
You really have to watch those liberal males, they'll spend hours and hours with you having deep intellectual conversations. They'll discuss deep ideas, contemplate esoteric theory and spiritual ideas. They'll make love for hours and write deep and meaningful poetry about you. Sure, they will probably wear their hair long and most likely won't own a television. But, they'll understand art and architecture and literature. It's true that they probably won't give two shakes about who won what football game, but they'll dance with you late at night under the stars and they're always looking for new ways to please you and usually understand your deepest thoughts, often before you understand them yourself. They'll be your best friend and always treat you as an equal, in fact, it will never even enter their mind that you're not. They're almost always physically fit, too, because they're usually the outdoorsy type and love to hike. They never make fun of others, or discuss small ideas. They enjoy discussing ways to improve the world and the lives of others. Sure, they won't slap you on your *** and tell you to get in the kitchen and cook them some dinner and bring them a beer while you're at it like those macho men on the right. Instead they'll probably tell you to relax while they whip you up a gourmet meal and serve it to you on the best dishes. Yeah, you really gotta watch out for those liberal males.
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Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 10:06 AM UTC
Those Pesky Liberal Males
♦   ♦   ♦ She was an earnest devotée. Her ideals, birthed in Chardonnay were globally diverse (read: white). A liberal bark preceded bite. Her crystal clearer than her vision; she provoked bemused derision as she breathed intolerance toward all who would not dance her dance. She swooned for distant pagan tribes, attuned to their exotic vibes – rapt in multi-culti piety strangely deaf to her own society, judged by her as abomination; unredeemed. The background station always stuck on N.P.R. (the soundtrack of her culture war, Pacifica News and Democracy Nows, and other progressive holy cows) Her motherland a shameful mystery: guilty first, and void of history – its origins defiled, corrupted… while she enjoyed uninterrupted freedom to pursue her whims: misguided one-world global hymns. The sisterhood of hu(man) kind was foremost in her earnest mind – even should that same sisterhood be sealed by her well-meaning blood. Out on a date with global death she hoped to unify the earth in solidarity with causes led by killers, warlord bosses, thugs she never knew existed who, if she’d met she’d have resisted. Her theory landed far from her praxis spun, by default, on an evil axis. Hot with zeal she fumed and stormed quite certain she was well-informed, at benefits, non-profit functions rallies, boycotts, left-wing luncheons; warm with righteous spite for Israel, aiding and abetting Ishmael with fellow-travelers, like-minded similarly hateful, blinded, rattling sabers, scimitars, axes… (lunacy never wanes, but waxes hotter with the passing years as activists confront their fears). She finally shilled for the Intifada (stopping short of reciting Shahada), reaching out to the terrorist with righteous raised progressive fist… offering thus her neck to blade: collateral to be repaid by murderers who couldn’t care less about her open-mindedness.
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
Suicide by Diversity
♦   ♦   ♦ She was an earnest devotée. Her ideals, birthed in Chardonnay were globally diverse (read: white). A liberal bark preceded bite. Her crystal clearer than her vision; she provoked bemused derision as she breathed intolerance toward all who would not dance her dance. She swooned for distant pagan tribes, attuned to their exotic vibes – rapt in multi-culti piety strangely deaf to her own society, judged by her as abomination; unredeemed. The background station always stuck on N.P.R. (the soundtrack of her culture war, Pacifica News and Democracy Nows, and other progressive holy cows) Her motherland a shameful mystery: guilty first, and void of history – its origins defiled, corrupted… while she enjoyed uninterrupted freedom to pursue her whims: misguided one-world global hymns. The sisterhood of hu(man) kind was foremost in her earnest mind – even should that same sisterhood be sealed by her well-meaning blood. Out on a date with global death she hoped to unify the earth in solidarity with causes led by killers, warlord bosses, thugs she never knew existed who, if she’d met she’d have resisted. Her theory landed far from her praxis spun, by default, on an evil axis. Hot with zeal she fumed and stormed quite certain she was well-informed, at benefits, non-profit functions rallies, boycotts, left-wing luncheons; warm with righteous spite for Israel, aiding and abetting Ishmael with fellow-travelers, like-minded similarly hateful, blinded, rattling sabers, scimitars, axes… (lunacy never wanes, but waxes hotter with the passing years as activists confront their fears). She finally shilled for the Intifada (stopping short of reciting Shahada), reaching out to the terrorist with righteous raised progressive fist… offering thus her neck to blade: collateral to be repaid by murderers who couldn’t care less about her open-mindedness.
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57
I'm a conservative liberal anti abortion pro choice a society free from guns with the right to bear arms don't water my lawn just to take long showers freedom of speech with censorship for children we are all the same in a unique way what can i say I'm a conservative liberal balanced between two opposites like riding a bike too much to the left or too much to the right fall d o w n what can I say I'm a conservative liberal
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Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 11:04 PM UTC
Conservative Liberal
*Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” Jesus answered, "I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times."*                     - Matthew the Apostle I Seventy-seven bottles of gin lie in the guts of sensuous men; seventy-seven I forgive you's dissolve in a fanatical mind's resolve. II What offence occurred under Saint Constantine's priggish eye? Was it specious as a Samian's thigh? Or Sumerians receiving alien diplomats? Maybe somewhere far under Moscow Putin's massing cloning vats... III Whatever discursive and belligerent milieu church authority finds most tried and true seems to be the most important decider in the future of things like the Large Hadron Collider. Perhaps, unfoundedly, they find it funny that Higgs (though it seems much like calling the Liberal Party "Whigs") is a name shared by a man and a theoretical particle (though it be libelous in any journalist's article), and thus label similar advancements as "blasphemous". I guess that this is what it is: believing just because. IV Who can know blasphemy from piousness? Maybe all Luther did was obfuscate a prior mess. V Seventy-seven palm-branch-adorned, donkey-riding kings: an automatic-ring-making-machine beleaguering proselyte rings.
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Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 1:40 AM UTC
Palm Sunday Penance
As a child I was taught poetry the quiet writing of feelings reflections often in a beat with a rhyme and a few examples of alliteration I was taught that as a woman my feelings should be hid and kept quiet that when I liked a boy it was not my place to ask him whether he liked me back I was taught to look out for myself by not dressing slutty not walking home late at night I was taught that my curvy figure would make people question my morals my virginity my character I was taught that as a girl I won't be as successful in math or science I was taught to give myself to other pursuits in liberal arts or domestic dealings I was taught that even if by some miracle I found success in the fields where I "wouldn't be successful" that I would and should give it up in a heart beat to raise a family I was taught that I must share my feelings my emotions my struggles but not in a loud and open way I had to remain quiet cool composed Poetry was to be my outlet, written in couplets sonnets and verse quiet and held inside written on paper stored away from the world to be read inside the mind by others- men, teachers, parents in order to decode me and learn how to keep me silent
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Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 5:08 AM UTC
I was taught poetry
I am a Province, a State, a Municipality, and a Region. I am a Soldier, a Pilot, a Minister, and a Legion; I am a black man, a white man, a brown man, a woman, A French man, American, Canadian, and Roman. I am a rap artist, a singer, a slam poet and guitarist; I dabble in the dark arts accompanied by a Marxist. I'm a barista, a gas man, a secretary, and Tsarina, A King and a Queen and a janitorial cleaner. I am a "lover," a "hater," a "here now" and "there later," I am Luke Skywalker, yet at the same time, Lord Vader. I am a driver, a walker, a rider, a stalker, A conservative liberal and a well-learned straight-talker. I am a salesman and clerk, A criminal and a serf, The proud owner of a weapon that, while it kills, saves the Earth. I am a drinker and smoker, A consumer and broker, A bomb-maker, con-artist, Priest, and interloper. I am a Citizen. Religious and secular, Macrocosmic, molecular, Suit wearing, uncaring, emphatic, irregular, A "packie," a **** a Scrabble fan playing Yahtzee; A Jihadist, sadistic, addicted to Herodotus, History is repeated by the philosopher that thought of us. The eroticist literature towards which we've all lusted; It looks like the bullets machine-gun is busted. Indifferent, ecstatic, illicett, erratic, An infant, a senior, a young man with bad-lip, A black man, a white man, a brown man, a woman, A Jew and a Christian, a Muslim musician, A monarch, elitist, pro-abortion defeatist, An anarchist, Black Panther, and a rich plutocratic; I am a citizen, And as one, I'm elastic.
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Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 1:35 PM UTC
I am a Citizen.
I am a Province, a State, a Municipality, and a Region. I am a Soldier, a Pilot, a Minister, and a Legion; I am a black man, a white man, a brown man, a woman, A French man, American, Canadian, and Roman. I am a rap artist, a singer, a slam poet and guitarist; I dabble in the dark arts accompanied by a Marxist. I'm a barista, a gas man, a secretary, and Tsarina, A King and a Queen and a janitorial cleaner. I am a "lover," a "hater," a "here now" and "there later," I am Luke Skywalker, yet at the same time, Lord Vader. I am a driver, a walker, a rider, a stalker, A conservative liberal and a well-learned straight-talker. I am a salesman and clerk, A criminal and a serf, The proud owner of a weapon that, while it kills, saves the Earth. I am a drinker and smoker, A consumer and broker, A bomb-maker, con-artist, Priest, and interloper. I am a Citizen. Religious and secular, Macrocosmic, molecular, Suit wearing, uncaring, emphatic, irregular, A "packie," a **** a Scrabble fan playing Yahtzee; A Jihadist, sadistic, addicted to Herodotus, History is repeated by the philosopher that thought of us. The eroticist literature towards which we've all lusted; It looks like the bullets machine-gun is busted. Indifferent, ecstatic, illicett, erratic, An infant, a senior, a young man with bad-lip, A black man, a white man, a brown man, a woman, A Jew and a Christian, a Muslim musician, A monarch, elitist, pro-abortion defeatist, An anarchist, Black Panther, and a rich plutocratic; I am a citizen, And as one, I'm elastic.
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36
We have never had to compete. You are so much older than I am So much prettier So much wittier (you have said so yourself). You are healthy Not very wealthy You proclaim your wisdom. But I don't think you are as wise as you think. With your doctorate, You may have book learnin' But you never learned how to be a part of our family. I don't live in a liberal state I don't eat all organic things I am not involved in as many things as you feel I should be But I am trying to find my way Without destroying our mother. Every time you come You bring chaos And hurtful words. You bring blame and hate And you spew it. You never think of anyone except For yourself And you twist the truth In your mind, Like you lied about being kidnapped, Until you believe that you are the wronged. You don't feel safe? I don't feel safe with you. I'm glad we don't compete... There's no way I could win, And hurt Mom, or our sister, or our nephew... Or anyone As much as you do.
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Jun 17, 2010
Jun 17, 2010 at 7:45 AM UTC
Sibling rivalry
Be composed—be at ease with me—I am Walt Whitman, liberal and ***** as Nature; Not till the sun excludes you, do I exclude you; Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you, and the leaves to rustle for you, do my words refuse to glisten and rustle for you. My girl, I appoint with you an appointment—and I charge you that you make preparation to be worthy to meet me, And I charge you that you be patient and perfect till I come. Till then, I salute you with a significant look, that you do not forget me.
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6.3k
To A Common **********
Behold the One with the Aries, the Ward of Santa Muerte Our 16th President voted by 16 million Filipinos this 2016 The 1st President from Mindanao from being Mayor of Davao…Duterte! He is One with MiJoRdGr (Miriam, Jojo, Rody, Grace) The 4 Opposition Presidentiables who defeated Mar Roxas And brought Liberal Party its great disgrace! The One with the Aries from the Land with War The Land of Promise – feared by typhoons, but filled with goons So from her came a Liberator among MiJoRdGr! That this One should war with our nation’s greatest horrors -Drug Lords, Liberals, Treasoners, Criminals & Terrorists- These powerful entities to our history are desecrators! So by being one with lawmakers, law enforcers & lawful people By the overwhelming power of the Supermajority Our country’s greatest terrors…Du30 shall conquer them all! But first, he must defeat his detractors – Leila, Leni & Trillanes These triple crooks who want to topple the government Are also said to be conspiring with EU, UN & US! Yet with Trump’s triumph, US is no longer an enemy Our American hatred weakened, our Chinese friendship strengthened As it established great friendship with Pres. Du30! Do not emulate the girl power of those Liberal crooks We got an Olympic medalist Heidilyn & Ms. International 2016 But Leila & Leni?...Can only ruin our country…like blasted nukes! Do not worry for we have Pacquiao as still winner & role model Alongwith Gen. Bato, a victim of yellow washing machine But these Pro-Du30 men…to criminals tough, to innocents gentle! May God allow this True Change to take place with continuity Let Pres. Duterte lead us for many more years to come For the Supermajority, for you & me… for our country! -12/30/2016 (Dumarao) *Our Golden Times During PDu30
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Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 9:19 PM UTC
Our Golden Times During PDu30
Behold the One with the Aries, the Ward of Santa Muerte Our 16th President voted by 16 million Filipinos this 2016 The 1st President from Mindanao from being Mayor of Davao…Duterte! He is One with MiJoRdGr (Miriam, Jojo, Rody, Grace) The 4 Opposition Presidentiables who defeated Mar Roxas And brought Liberal Party its great disgrace! The One with the Aries from the Land with War The Land of Promise – feared by typhoons, but filled with goons So from her came a Liberator among MiJoRdGr! That this One should war with our nation’s greatest horrors -Drug Lords, Liberals, Treasoners, Criminals & Terrorists- These powerful entities to our history are desecrators! So by being one with lawmakers, law enforcers & lawful people By the overwhelming power of the Supermajority Our country’s greatest terrors…Du30 shall conquer them all! But first, he must defeat his detractors – Leila, Leni & Trillanes These triple crooks who want to topple the government Are also said to be conspiring with EU, UN & US! Yet with Trump’s triumph, US is no longer an enemy Our American hatred weakened, our Chinese friendship strengthened As it established great friendship with Pres. Du30! Do not emulate the girl power of those Liberal crooks We got an Olympic medalist Heidilyn & Ms. International 2016 But Leila & Leni?...Can only ruin our country…like blasted nukes! Do not worry for we have Pacquiao as still winner & role model Alongwith Gen. Bato, a victim of yellow washing machine But these Pro-Du30 men…to criminals tough, to innocents gentle! May God allow this True Change to take place with continuity Let Pres. Duterte lead us for many more years to come For the Supermajority, for you & me… for our country! -12/30/2016 (Dumarao) *Our Golden Times During PDu30
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33
12/30/2013 I Met the **** Hater Have you ever seen someone so beautiful that you felt like crying? Have you ever felt so utterly Disgusted by someone that you wished they were dying? Do you think I feel gay guts and gayness in my genes? Or did society manufacture me - one of their gay liberal machines. I'm not sure which is better, Either  way you'll make me a martyr. But I'll be your Hester Prynne baby with my Big Gay Letter. I cannot erase that look on his face. when he told me **** **** Go Away. I'll punch you in the face just for being Gay. A separation of message and mind. Hateful judgment is not hard to find. When I stand in the shower, or sit down on a park bench, I'm a **** to him clear as gay. It's like he thinks I ate some magic flower. My girlfriends don't fare much better - to him called a bar ***** This guy is the part of society that makes being gay scary to say. He thinks Gays making out in public can't be allowed. He thinks Legalized gay marriages should be disavowed. He thinks Animal *** ********** and ****** are because of gays. He thinks Gay **** between two women might be more okay. He thinks *** should **** more gay people. He thinks Criminalizing ****** would make things more equal. He thinks Adam's choice of Eve or Steve is all that matters. He doesn't care about myself, or your heart's fragile rathers. This man is the **** Hater. Not a rare breed at all. He could be your waiter, or your teacher, maybe even your sales assistant at the mall. I Met the **** Hater, while I made out with a guy at the bar. The **** Hater was kinda old, yet strong and tall. But I didn't fall down. or become dehumanized. When I caught a glimpse of his face and saw that utter look of Disgust that I just cannot erase. I saw it in his face - the **** Hater's 'Homo Hate.'
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Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 6:58 PM UTC
I Met the **** Hater
12/30/2013 I Met the **** Hater Have you ever seen someone so beautiful that you felt like crying? Have you ever felt so utterly Disgusted by someone that you wished they were dying? Do you think I feel gay guts and gayness in my genes? Or did society manufacture me - one of their gay liberal machines. I'm not sure which is better, Either  way you'll make me a martyr. But I'll be your Hester Prynne baby with my Big Gay Letter. I cannot erase that look on his face. when he told me **** **** Go Away. I'll punch you in the face just for being Gay. A separation of message and mind. Hateful judgment is not hard to find. When I stand in the shower, or sit down on a park bench, I'm a **** to him clear as gay. It's like he thinks I ate some magic flower. My girlfriends don't fare much better - to him called a bar ***** This guy is the part of society that makes being gay scary to say. He thinks Gays making out in public can't be allowed. He thinks Legalized gay marriages should be disavowed. He thinks Animal *** ********** and ****** are because of gays. He thinks Gay **** between two women might be more okay. He thinks *** should **** more gay people. He thinks Criminalizing ****** would make things more equal. He thinks Adam's choice of Eve or Steve is all that matters. He doesn't care about myself, or your heart's fragile rathers. This man is the **** Hater. Not a rare breed at all. He could be your waiter, or your teacher, maybe even your sales assistant at the mall. I Met the **** Hater, while I made out with a guy at the bar. The **** Hater was kinda old, yet strong and tall. But I didn't fall down. or become dehumanized. When I caught a glimpse of his face and saw that utter look of Disgust that I just cannot erase. I saw it in his face - the **** Hater's 'Homo Hate.'
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48
There’s an assembly in the making and the suits are all shuffling in for the big event making way to their front row seats ****** in nose   hanky in hand   and all colorfully draped   in those cuffed pin stripes and Jerry Garcia ties *now what would the Grateful Dead or any of their fine entourage have to say about this foul routine?* Apropos of that they’re talking in the 3rd person with tight syllables and wavy hands and all taking a run at the state of the union there’s Valentino and Freddie and good old Sal "look....their fiddling with their nuts!" cries a layman from the balcony seats the Yin and the Yang have got even the most liberal minded scratching their heads as questions fly in from the field: *don’t you know the way it used to be? have you no morals? which way to the exit!?* These front row fanatics have surely been scrimmaging in the corn fields all down in that classic 3 point watching their weight with sample selections from the Spicy House and Yaas Bazaar as members of the congregation look on with envy *pass the aperitif...the big ***** lady is on deck!* Union heads are running rogue loading up on grievances and lines passing files at a make shift pew jumping the bunkers and stepping on clams while the orderlies move in   for governance It’s a bewildered state   and only for the mind of the rigorous Jimmy D would say: “it’s nothing you pussy...to the victor goes the spoils! everyone has a bit of good you know... you just have to find it!" Unrest is growing in the ranks and the masses are unstable Time to hammer down with a formidable brace and two tick play
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Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 8:05 PM UTC
Town Hall
There’s an assembly in the making and the suits are all shuffling in for the big event making way to their front row seats ****** in nose   hanky in hand   and all colorfully draped   in those cuffed pin stripes and Jerry Garcia ties *now what would the Grateful Dead or any of their fine entourage have to say about this foul routine?* Apropos of that they’re talking in the 3rd person with tight syllables and wavy hands and all taking a run at the state of the union there’s Valentino and Freddie and good old Sal "look....their fiddling with their nuts!" cries a layman from the balcony seats the Yin and the Yang have got even the most liberal minded scratching their heads as questions fly in from the field: *don’t you know the way it used to be? have you no morals? which way to the exit!?* These front row fanatics have surely been scrimmaging in the corn fields all down in that classic 3 point watching their weight with sample selections from the Spicy House and Yaas Bazaar as members of the congregation look on with envy *pass the aperitif...the big ***** lady is on deck!* Union heads are running rogue loading up on grievances and lines passing files at a make shift pew jumping the bunkers and stepping on clams while the orderlies move in   for governance It’s a bewildered state   and only for the mind of the rigorous Jimmy D would say: “it’s nothing you pussy...to the victor goes the spoils! everyone has a bit of good you know... you just have to find it!" Unrest is growing in the ranks and the masses are unstable Time to hammer down with a formidable brace and two tick play
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57
Lucid, abusive Tongue in cheek divine Stupid, elusive Lost soul of mine A snap of orchestral fingers to summon the suave illustrator Mohawk punks and minions to smash the limp masturbator Loveless, acquiesce Arpeggio flutter ripples Convalesce, Fancy dress ******* with perky ******* One or two drinks, make it three then five Keeping the blood warm and love alive Visceral, peripheral Dark raven hair Liberal, scriptural I couldn’t even care. I adored her all, her everything, her gleaming demeanor The subtle wink of her eyes, the glow; even greener Exotica, ex machina Street amazon of desert glass sand No drama, rural karma Flesh sweating like the heat of Sudan Dead singers like Cole and Morrison sing of paper moons and Crystal Ships The mixed CD segues to U2, Pulp, and then a full disk of The Flaming Lips. "Nightingale", minor scale The saxophonist played under the street lamp outside Folktale female “Another drink?” she abides, two glasses and wine supplied On her balcony we watched and listened, to the call of urban passion The wordless music we adored, a testament to our mutual attraction.
0
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 5:07 AM UTC
After Hours
This is what she looks like when she's sad: The human condition effective immediately. Winter shades shift side to side, exploding out of each iris. Skin falling off, when lunging forward to kiss me. Fingernail daggers dig into my pores. I'll bleed under her fingernails, if she'll drag them down my torso until her knees click the floor. This is her tongue inside of my mouth: We taste each other before we waste each other. Hip bones parallel and our eyes rubbing shoulders, my hands surfing her rib cage and it's all the rage because she moans. And when she moans, color tones orbit around her head. Planetary tumors dancing around her skull; jump roping with her hair, eating morals and removing plurals. Those are her lips around me. Her head moves up and down but her eyes focus on me. She makes eye contact and I empty my dreams into her mouth. We are a public forum. I ache with alcohol poisoning and liberal undertones. The terrain that is my face bleeds oils that would lubricate the axle of the car that she drove into the tree that we carved our name into. Come back to me. I miss you so much. I watched you die. I watched you die and there was nothing I could do. They told me that she wouldn't make it. They told me that she might make it. My hand gripped at blood stained blanket. I think she said my name under the air mask. I could tell if she saw me; her eyes rolled back into her head after she gazed a thousand yards away into the field of black that sheltered the tall grass that we would chase each other through and get lost in as we got lost in each other. I love you! I ******* love you! My back, a membrane coil that rises my stiff neck that cares my head full of memories. I turn on the light and you're not there next to me. I put my hand on your copy of The Thornbirds and know that you've read it more than the notes I leave in your inbox, hoping that it'll say that you have seen it. Walking to your grave, I am a darkness that the abyss has swallowed and I have followed myself into nothingness that is such bliss that I forget your kiss.
0
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 1:01 PM UTC
******** and Car Crashes ******* in a mouth)
This is what she looks like when she's sad: The human condition effective immediately. Winter shades shift side to side, exploding out of each iris. Skin falling off, when lunging forward to kiss me. Fingernail daggers dig into my pores. I'll bleed under her fingernails, if she'll drag them down my torso until her knees click the floor. This is her tongue inside of my mouth: We taste each other before we waste each other. Hip bones parallel and our eyes rubbing shoulders, my hands surfing her rib cage and it's all the rage because she moans. And when she moans, color tones orbit around her head. Planetary tumors dancing around her skull; jump roping with her hair, eating morals and removing plurals. Those are her lips around me. Her head moves up and down but her eyes focus on me. She makes eye contact and I empty my dreams into her mouth. We are a public forum. I ache with alcohol poisoning and liberal undertones. The terrain that is my face bleeds oils that would lubricate the axle of the car that she drove into the tree that we carved our name into. Come back to me. I miss you so much. I watched you die. I watched you die and there was nothing I could do. They told me that she wouldn't make it. They told me that she might make it. My hand gripped at blood stained blanket. I think she said my name under the air mask. I could tell if she saw me; her eyes rolled back into her head after she gazed a thousand yards away into the field of black that sheltered the tall grass that we would chase each other through and get lost in as we got lost in each other. I love you! I ******* love you! My back, a membrane coil that rises my stiff neck that cares my head full of memories. I turn on the light and you're not there next to me. I put my hand on your copy of The Thornbirds and know that you've read it more than the notes I leave in your inbox, hoping that it'll say that you have seen it. Walking to your grave, I am a darkness that the abyss has swallowed and I have followed myself into nothingness that is such bliss that I forget your kiss.
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66
It's this type of imagery, attached with a dark memory Me and you had the same chemistry When you left you had to take a part of me Like a piece of cake but no party please Not to be rude, so please pardon me My manners stay in order to support Your last resort in this Runaway disorder But, I'm fed up with this ******** now Turned non supporter I will remain liberal Cuz liberty is invisible, such a ****** tune Your despicable, how ******* pitiful, Something so close to mystical Prove to be that practical, but not that magical kind of classical **** Give me something easy to remember like gifts from December Though we're broke with no extra tender and if that's all she wrote Please return to sender, here's something I can quote Forgotten with a puff of that marijuana smoke -V.v.V. Ds
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 1:54 PM UTC
Runaway
you can hear the echo via Zizek the Slovak, well, attire me in slavic myths and i'll be mumbling purrs in mud too for a helium bubble to become a comedian, i know a jittery ******* addiction when i see one... if one thing the catholic schooling system taught me was how to avoid sniffing glue and how to recognise a Freudian apostle - still, with all the hippy **** you'd think sniffing glue was what Ukrainian existentialism prescribed with paracetamol, catholic education just said: no no. **** me it's the late 90s and we're talking post-Chernobyl antics... but that's how i see the left, leftist politics, the right                utilises prefixes and suffixes in the old stance of simple pre- pro-                                     anti-                                             qua-                                                                -so so... the left? oh they're right in there... their prefixes are                                 Marxist- liberal-                                          Hegelian-              whatnot...                                                 they don't use abstract prefixes,                                           their prefixes are concrete,                         they want the porridge in their mouth to ensure a slur that never comes, among a range of onomatopoeias they argue from the perspective of the hushed and ushered crowd, via one observation: Stalin clapped after a speech to enjoin with the crowd, a real big brother, ****** never clapped, a sitting-duck method; i'm not advocating, but by a proxy placebo dynamo experimenting, it's called experimenting with thought rather than practising with will, former no chance of footstep evaluation for cult status imitable -                                       the left intellectual has no rubric of thought concerning to and fro - it has to be concrete layered and a shut off perfect architecture without fault - it can't be what it is -                                       con- has to be conservative                                                   pro- has to be socialist                                      you once said legitimate transparency - but you didn't say legislation - well, the left understood it as legislation, the right too wanted legitimate transparency - the green party said we could have neither but could have the replanting of a thousand oak trees with a Robin Hood placard on the first oak tree replanted in Sherwood Forest... b. ~ d. ~... shot ~100 bent arrows into a bullseye - hurrah! hurrah! maid marian lost her virginity too! to a broomstick rather than maradona's fingernail toothpick! at an essex market the cockney shouts (out of place): *** yer courgettes! *** yer courgettes! ta fa a pudding! ta fa a pudding! *** yer cucumbers! tooth firth 'un!
0
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
i don't talk
you can hear the echo via Zizek the Slovak, well, attire me in slavic myths and i'll be mumbling purrs in mud too for a helium bubble to become a comedian, i know a jittery ******* addiction when i see one... if one thing the catholic schooling system taught me was how to avoid sniffing glue and how to recognise a Freudian apostle - still, with all the hippy **** you'd think sniffing glue was what Ukrainian existentialism prescribed with paracetamol, catholic education just said: no no. **** me it's the late 90s and we're talking post-Chernobyl antics... but that's how i see the left, leftist politics, the right                utilises prefixes and suffixes in the old stance of simple pre- pro-                                     anti-                                             qua-                                                                -so so... the left? oh they're right in there... their prefixes are                                 Marxist- liberal-                                          Hegelian-              whatnot...                                                 they don't use abstract prefixes,                                           their prefixes are concrete,                         they want the porridge in their mouth to ensure a slur that never comes, among a range of onomatopoeias they argue from the perspective of the hushed and ushered crowd, via one observation: Stalin clapped after a speech to enjoin with the crowd, a real big brother, ****** never clapped, a sitting-duck method; i'm not advocating, but by a proxy placebo dynamo experimenting, it's called experimenting with thought rather than practising with will, former no chance of footstep evaluation for cult status imitable -                                       the left intellectual has no rubric of thought concerning to and fro - it has to be concrete layered and a shut off perfect architecture without fault - it can't be what it is -                                       con- has to be conservative                                                   pro- has to be socialist                                      you once said legitimate transparency - but you didn't say legislation - well, the left understood it as legislation, the right too wanted legitimate transparency - the green party said we could have neither but could have the replanting of a thousand oak trees with a Robin Hood placard on the first oak tree replanted in Sherwood Forest... b. ~ d. ~... shot ~100 bent arrows into a bullseye - hurrah! hurrah! maid marian lost her virginity too! to a broomstick rather than maradona's fingernail toothpick! at an essex market the cockney shouts (out of place): *** yer courgettes! *** yer courgettes! ta fa a pudding! ta fa a pudding! *** yer cucumbers! tooth firth 'un!
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70
Silently the social media hero strikes again The swift and ruthless keyboard warrior Crushing political correctness Debunking liberal drivel Overpowering the opinions of the obsolete He grows and grows With every post And tweets make him feel Like the torrent of thoroughness Raging through a landscape That needs to be cleansed Outside lies a hostile world With prying, judging eyes Online, a world of possibilities Where virtual battle cries Are the prelude of a rally Between the devoid and the deluded But through his own gaze Focused on the reflection On the computer screen A social media hero rises While outside, the world passes him by
0
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 5:26 AM UTC
Social media warrior
no one takes you seriously anymore. you're just a college student. you are still young. you are still learning. you have not been fully brainwashed, yet. you have to get a good job! you have to make enough money! you don't want to be starving, do you? then go to college. go to college cause that will fix all your problems. one piece of paper and 200,000 dollars of debt later. welcome to college. welcome to college! where you'll try hard to get good grades and be up all night. you will never know a good night's rest for the next 4 years. more anxiety than high school. more work than high school. more people than high school. more bull **** than high school. liberal arts education is supposed to be great! but what if you hate science and math and you just want to write? I hate my classes. I hate analyzing books. I hate analyzing movies. I hate writing essays. I hate talking. I have a C+ in one class because I never talk. I hate talking. I hate talking. when I get my degree will it be different? will I be different? will my life change forever? will I finally be the member of society that society wants me to be?
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Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
this is ********
Conceited I have the body of a god I must confess And if I dress, I dress to impress. Charismatic and liberal with the charm Looking for a woman to be on my arm I'm a perfectionist I'm perfect you see I assure you none equal to me I talk to the mirror, vanity is great I'm the one people love and love to hate I've been through life and never defeated That's just a few reasons why I'm conceited.
0
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 1:18 AM UTC
Conceited
**** men predatory *** hounds chasing skirts and tights aching **** idiots disciples of Eros Christs of fetish reconciling nothing veiling that principled demeanor of feminist culture "of don't objectify me".....translation sensual form is not natures ruse machine Eve must override override override well the id does not negotiate the superstructure of affected political tele-reality starring the liberal chattering class who speculate male motives to be some vainglorious power trip while corporatized media personalities feign out of control lust as a mental disorder and sit up like shuddering Pekingese yessing the lascivious as a fiction no ladies its not just power theories are not testosterone it is pure unadulterated relentless irreducible urge to merge like the beluga **** channel sea world as you've never seen it before where male dolphins batter and gang bang the weaker *** in search of feral harmony in an overbuilt society yet to become a civilization are we scissored between a wild ****** id of the damed and the Victorian sacred of the damed oh you silky damsels makin men moody and humid pure **** heroine a poison ivy of *** like a rash givin men folk the itch cant stop the twitch rubber ******* in a rubbing frenzy from your soaking heat and odor we are  a rumbling of muttering torments for the forbidden taste of you oooow oooow we are pan in a mad dance for glistening shanks and buttery kisses we are the early bird looking for the worm hunters decreed by the liturgy of heaven and hell a constellation of infatuation and lechery mad with adoration love slaves in a raging furnace of desire *** addicts that just say yes turgid dogs hole sniffers voluptuous monsters all johnny apple seed and sometimes your salvation as you are ours knowing that sometimes real eroticism eclipses morality and yes my darlings* NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
0
Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 12:55 PM UTC
THE TERROR OF WOMEN
**** men predatory *** hounds chasing skirts and tights aching **** idiots disciples of Eros Christs of fetish reconciling nothing veiling that principled demeanor of feminist culture "of don't objectify me".....translation sensual form is not natures ruse machine Eve must override override override well the id does not negotiate the superstructure of affected political tele-reality starring the liberal chattering class who speculate male motives to be some vainglorious power trip while corporatized media personalities feign out of control lust as a mental disorder and sit up like shuddering Pekingese yessing the lascivious as a fiction no ladies its not just power theories are not testosterone it is pure unadulterated relentless irreducible urge to merge like the beluga **** channel sea world as you've never seen it before where male dolphins batter and gang bang the weaker *** in search of feral harmony in an overbuilt society yet to become a civilization are we scissored between a wild ****** id of the damed and the Victorian sacred of the damed oh you silky damsels makin men moody and humid pure **** heroine a poison ivy of *** like a rash givin men folk the itch cant stop the twitch rubber ******* in a rubbing frenzy from your soaking heat and odor we are  a rumbling of muttering torments for the forbidden taste of you oooow oooow we are pan in a mad dance for glistening shanks and buttery kisses we are the early bird looking for the worm hunters decreed by the liturgy of heaven and hell a constellation of infatuation and lechery mad with adoration love slaves in a raging furnace of desire *** addicts that just say yes turgid dogs hole sniffers voluptuous monsters all johnny apple seed and sometimes your salvation as you are ours knowing that sometimes real eroticism eclipses morality and yes my darlings* NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
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102
I've just joined the Liberal Democrats, My mates reckon they're all a bunch of ***** But I say "what do you know?", "I've read their entire manifesto". Well that was a lie, If ever I've told one, In truth I know maybe 5, Policies of theirs and then I'm done. But what's the point in all of this, Cameron says "hug a hoodie", What could be next?, Give a burglar a kiss? Oh well it's all a guessing game, At the end of the day, No politician has a sense of shame, And no shortage of cash on their payday. When I turn 18, What do I do?, Vote for the colour I like best, Or speak the truth? Debates and elections, Aren't really democratic, Cause no ministers have the courage, To make their policies stick.
0
Jun 3, 2011
Jun 3, 2011 at 12:36 AM UTC
Democracy... really?