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"major" poems
except that you have attached your parfumed, par~col~odored exhalations into our shared airs, with uniqued fumes,    thy airy essences to thine own chosen words, in combines never before seen or heard, but worn by you, draped from chains abound your neck, dripping from thy tongue, dropping from thine eyes, leaking from your pores, from fingers in rose gold adorning rings bright shining so more, so unique, impossible to misidentify as anything anybody any anything, but yours, yours…yours,      but not belabor this fact basic, disguise your name, hide your fame, make your locale, somewhere in the unreachable, unreal, multiverse, none the less, and allthemore, cannot escape, the ultimate reality, when first you press that keyed SEND, you have parted, done with, an immeasurable small but grandeured piece of your unique self, if that makes you anxious, here my eyes crinkle sympathetically, am please to blurt this major alert: u have nothing to fear, too late, too late, you are now made, part and particle, past participle futured history in the particulared, longest continuum on this tiny, tiny planet oh well, just thought you'd like to know, despite your guises, your are now 100 per cent, immutable ^ 10/5/25 staying alive
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Oct 3, 2025
Oct 3, 2025 at 8:23 PM UTC
Immutable: you 🫵...have nothing to be anxious about 👍
So he said to me one night Submissive is not what's right He said to me one day You've to command and make your way You cannot be quiet You cant be a riot You have to be you And not let destroy'it He calls me his friend Say, when will this end? He says he don't care It goes beyond repair He says I mean nothing Without the slightest grieve "You are my closest" Oh, I wouldn't like to believe But I've known better And not made up a pile Fed it to the skies Never failed to smile I've grown as a human I've grown as a friend He's been a pillar The crave will never end He's helped me in ways Helped find my forte He's helped me mature Never enough to sway But now that he's changed I'm hit by numbing rain Now that all's deranged Major bouts will reign.
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Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 1:41 AM UTC
Submissive.
There are five widely known senses. Sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste. We've got some minor ones as well, such as balance, temperature and many more. However, people fail to realise that there's also the sixth major sense. Thoughts themselves.    If we look closely, all these five senses have the same base. Specified cells in eye react to energy of light, cells of ear recieve energy in form of air's vibrations, skin cells pick up energy of mechanical changes, and so tasting and hearing depend on translation of certain substances' chemical energy.    These cells in different organs differ in their structure and the way they appear, however, if we stop looking at them in such small scale, we can see that ALL of the cells or organs responsible for any sense translate the energy.    So, a light enters the eye, certain wavelenght of certain energy stimulates the eye's rod or cone cells with a certain intensity. Then the energy of light is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of sight.    If it comes to smell, a certain particle enters the nose, binds to a smell receptor cell, and the chemical energy of this particle is, again, translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of smell.    Now, let's move to the crucial part. The sense of thoughts.    During the creation of thought, pathways in our brain that collect memories(and many more known or unknown pathways) connect. First, there's this spark of electricity, that moves all along the neuron and releases a dose of neurotransmitters(amount of different NTs is equiavlent to strength of this spark, basically resulting in "creating" various thoughts). Then, chemical energy of NEUROTRANSMITTER is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which happens in the brain, creating the sensation of thought.    Therefore the 'sense of thoughts' reacts to and is stimulated by neurotransmitters themselves, with receptors on neurons' membrane being receptors of the stimulus. So, kind of like smell, the stimulus is chemical, compared to sight, where it's electromagnetic wave; anyways the result in all of these is electric impulse in neurons (hence the idea of "thoughts" as a sense, due to the same basic layout; transfer of energy).    The 'smell particle' connects to receptor and is translated to a certain amount of neurotransmitters/certain strenght of neuronal impulse. SO, again, we can see that when the first outer layer of this communication is cut off, we're left only with the neurotransmitters and impulses themselves. Anyway, the transduction of energy remains.    If it comes to "sense of thoughts" the receptor lies within us, whereas in sight or smell or touch it's external. However, does it matter if it's on the surface of skin or under it if it all comes down to neurons of our brain?    When you lie in a dark, silent room, without any external stimuli, you still retain your thoughts, colorful, vivid or complex. All the magic of the brain - still happens. So, how isn't it a separate, full-fledged sense?
0
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 6:49 AM UTC
Thoughts#22 ; Senses
There are five widely known senses. Sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste. We've got some minor ones as well, such as balance, temperature and many more. However, people fail to realise that there's also the sixth major sense. Thoughts themselves.    If we look closely, all these five senses have the same base. Specified cells in eye react to energy of light, cells of ear recieve energy in form of air's vibrations, skin cells pick up energy of mechanical changes, and so tasting and hearing depend on translation of certain substances' chemical energy.    These cells in different organs differ in their structure and the way they appear, however, if we stop looking at them in such small scale, we can see that ALL of the cells or organs responsible for any sense translate the energy.    So, a light enters the eye, certain wavelenght of certain energy stimulates the eye's rod or cone cells with a certain intensity. Then the energy of light is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of sight.    If it comes to smell, a certain particle enters the nose, binds to a smell receptor cell, and the chemical energy of this particle is, again, translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of smell.    Now, let's move to the crucial part. The sense of thoughts.    During the creation of thought, pathways in our brain that collect memories(and many more known or unknown pathways) connect. First, there's this spark of electricity, that moves all along the neuron and releases a dose of neurotransmitters(amount of different NTs is equiavlent to strength of this spark, basically resulting in "creating" various thoughts). Then, chemical energy of NEUROTRANSMITTER is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which happens in the brain, creating the sensation of thought.    Therefore the 'sense of thoughts' reacts to and is stimulated by neurotransmitters themselves, with receptors on neurons' membrane being receptors of the stimulus. So, kind of like smell, the stimulus is chemical, compared to sight, where it's electromagnetic wave; anyways the result in all of these is electric impulse in neurons (hence the idea of "thoughts" as a sense, due to the same basic layout; transfer of energy).    The 'smell particle' connects to receptor and is translated to a certain amount of neurotransmitters/certain strenght of neuronal impulse. SO, again, we can see that when the first outer layer of this communication is cut off, we're left only with the neurotransmitters and impulses themselves. Anyway, the transduction of energy remains.    If it comes to "sense of thoughts" the receptor lies within us, whereas in sight or smell or touch it's external. However, does it matter if it's on the surface of skin or under it if it all comes down to neurons of our brain?    When you lie in a dark, silent room, without any external stimuli, you still retain your thoughts, colorful, vivid or complex. All the magic of the brain - still happens. So, how isn't it a separate, full-fledged sense?
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15
STATE SHUT DOWN BY IDIOCY "This is correspondent, uh, burp... wait, winds r, yeah, okay go back on live camera..." pretend the wind is blowing you back "This is the most major storm in recorded history of this network!" "My God, I could die in this sh..stuff." "Five star hotel what the **** "Okay, okay, live we are, look here, pan closer, these leafs on this Raleigh plant here, see how violently they are moving?" LEAVES ARE FALLING! "That is the fear one feels knowing that a category two, at any moment, could become a category five." "This Dave Mowers live from Hawaii, checking in before I possibly die. Mom I love you, Dad, well, look how brave I am!" "Is that an Asian girl?" "What an a..cute *** that, cut to... to the violent leaves again you **** "I'll fire you cameraman!" *Four large oak trees have fallen. HAWAII HAS ENORMOUS SURF!.  Four large oak trees have fallen.**
0
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 11:59 PM UTC
LIVE FROM RALEIGH
Such small things: a farm in the north, a plantation in the south. A small urban home rather than A mansion on the edge of an enormous field. Paved roads and rail road tracks inside cities instead of Gravel paths through paths of trees and cotton fields. Business men walking by or a rich plantation owner With two African slaves at his side. They can cause conflict, major differences. Political views and moral issues. How the country should be run? How the people are to live? The laws and abilities surrounding slaves? Is it right to own another human?
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Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
Brother Against Brother (differences)
I'm struggling with what it means to be a woman. Does it mean that I am always in competition to be the top of my species? Does it mean that I need to be perfect without a single curve out of line in order to find love? Does it mean that I am only defined when owned by a man? Does it mean that I can only find purpose in childbirth? Does it mean that I will forever live in the shadow of men? Does it mean that I am an object invented solely for a man's pleasure? Does it mean that I'm forced to confine to gender roles and live in someone else's story? Does it mean that I'm supposed to accept it when I'm harassed from across the street? Does it mean that I'm supposed to lie there silent when he puts his hands up my skirt? Does it mean that I am only worth 77 cents to a man’s dollar? Does it mean that I am defined by my looks rather than my intelligence? Does it mean that I will never be capable of holding a major position of power due to my mood swings? Does it mean that I am defined by how many men I have had *** with? Or does it mean something else entirely. It's difficult learning to love being a woman. Obvious and damaging disadvantages are visible to observers. We are regarded as second best, property of our man. We are erased from history, our pain is minimized and forgotten. We are oppressed and have to fight for our rights. We are afraid to walk the streets at night, afraid for our lives. We are harassed without care and without penalty. We are ***** and murdered for refusing proposals. We are expected to live on the sidelines as a housewife whose only priority should be her children. We are expected to keep quiet in situations of domestic abuse. We are expected to be perfect, and pretty, fresh for a man’s picking. We can’t even advocate for our own equality without being demonized. There are times where I wish I wasn’t a woman. Being a woman comes with innumerable expectations, pressures, and responsibilities. My existence is not defined by a man, or by the patriarchal expectations that have been placed on me. I am breaking free of my confinements and I’m not afraid to admit that, I'm struggling with what it means to be a woman. And that's okay. //sarahmann
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Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 3:10 AM UTC
What It Means to Be A Woman
I'm struggling with what it means to be a woman. Does it mean that I am always in competition to be the top of my species? Does it mean that I need to be perfect without a single curve out of line in order to find love? Does it mean that I am only defined when owned by a man? Does it mean that I can only find purpose in childbirth? Does it mean that I will forever live in the shadow of men? Does it mean that I am an object invented solely for a man's pleasure? Does it mean that I'm forced to confine to gender roles and live in someone else's story? Does it mean that I'm supposed to accept it when I'm harassed from across the street? Does it mean that I'm supposed to lie there silent when he puts his hands up my skirt? Does it mean that I am only worth 77 cents to a man’s dollar? Does it mean that I am defined by my looks rather than my intelligence? Does it mean that I will never be capable of holding a major position of power due to my mood swings? Does it mean that I am defined by how many men I have had *** with? Or does it mean something else entirely. It's difficult learning to love being a woman. Obvious and damaging disadvantages are visible to observers. We are regarded as second best, property of our man. We are erased from history, our pain is minimized and forgotten. We are oppressed and have to fight for our rights. We are afraid to walk the streets at night, afraid for our lives. We are harassed without care and without penalty. We are ***** and murdered for refusing proposals. We are expected to live on the sidelines as a housewife whose only priority should be her children. We are expected to keep quiet in situations of domestic abuse. We are expected to be perfect, and pretty, fresh for a man’s picking. We can’t even advocate for our own equality without being demonized. There are times where I wish I wasn’t a woman. Being a woman comes with innumerable expectations, pressures, and responsibilities. My existence is not defined by a man, or by the patriarchal expectations that have been placed on me. I am breaking free of my confinements and I’m not afraid to admit that, I'm struggling with what it means to be a woman. And that's okay. //sarahmann
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33
~a question of a thousand dreams~^ “Where are you going now my love? Where will you be tomorrow? Will you bring me happiness?  Will you bring me sorrow? All the questions of a thousand dreams, what you do and what you see” this one composes itself for all dreams go unremembered the first, the thousandth, the  every in between, erased by the push button of opening eyes but dreams come, marching in, saints mining the raw materiel the quartermaster has stored, awaiting requisition by an unarmed unnamed corp, witnessed but never seen these dreams wisped soft willow budded, tempting taunting, leaving nothing but unanswered questions that colored come in black and white elementary clues, a pillow indentation, single hair that stretches across the sea between two pillows that is blonde or red   but certainly unmine,   dregs of soured sentiment linger like the aftertaste of too many coffees and stainless steel beers heated summers breezes give no succor or relief, and the rain following gives no pleasure, for now you are hot and soaked, but somewhere in there a dream is part replayed, and eyes widening in major league surprise, the question acknowledged, the dreams quest hinted   she has gone, neither happiness or sorrow will she provide on the morrow, no toweling of your wet hair fair, and you awake sweat besotted, it is not rain, just pain, and it is only one dream a thousand times repeated and what you do and what you see is the abraded night ahead, and you bitter laugh, for there is no more other than to think, the question answered, and you beg relief by uttering “perchance to dream” 3:49 pm see the notes!! someone accuses me of Plagiarism because  I did not acknowledge that the quote in marks and Italics was from a famous song written 39 years ago so here is my response to “just saying” congratulations on ******* me off and yes I agree, you do not know the rules “#1: Quotation Marks Are for Quoting People—Verbatim Perhaps it should go without saying, but quotation marks are for quoting people. Quoting doesn’t mean summarizing or paraphrasing; it means repeating exactly what someone said. If you put double quotes around a phrase, your reader will often assume  that someone, somewhere, said that exact phrase or sentence.“ http://thevisualcommunicationguy.com/2013/09/11/10-things-you-really-need-to-know-about-quotation-marks/
0
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 3:59 PM UTC
a question of a thousand dreams
~a question of a thousand dreams~^ “Where are you going now my love? Where will you be tomorrow? Will you bring me happiness?  Will you bring me sorrow? All the questions of a thousand dreams, what you do and what you see” this one composes itself for all dreams go unremembered the first, the thousandth, the  every in between, erased by the push button of opening eyes but dreams come, marching in, saints mining the raw materiel the quartermaster has stored, awaiting requisition by an unarmed unnamed corp, witnessed but never seen these dreams wisped soft willow budded, tempting taunting, leaving nothing but unanswered questions that colored come in black and white elementary clues, a pillow indentation, single hair that stretches across the sea between two pillows that is blonde or red   but certainly unmine,   dregs of soured sentiment linger like the aftertaste of too many coffees and stainless steel beers heated summers breezes give no succor or relief, and the rain following gives no pleasure, for now you are hot and soaked, but somewhere in there a dream is part replayed, and eyes widening in major league surprise, the question acknowledged, the dreams quest hinted   she has gone, neither happiness or sorrow will she provide on the morrow, no toweling of your wet hair fair, and you awake sweat besotted, it is not rain, just pain, and it is only one dream a thousand times repeated and what you do and what you see is the abraded night ahead, and you bitter laugh, for there is no more other than to think, the question answered, and you beg relief by uttering “perchance to dream” 3:49 pm see the notes!! someone accuses me of Plagiarism because  I did not acknowledge that the quote in marks and Italics was from a famous song written 39 years ago so here is my response to “just saying” congratulations on ******* me off and yes I agree, you do not know the rules “#1: Quotation Marks Are for Quoting People—Verbatim Perhaps it should go without saying, but quotation marks are for quoting people. Quoting doesn’t mean summarizing or paraphrasing; it means repeating exactly what someone said. If you put double quotes around a phrase, your reader will often assume  that someone, somewhere, said that exact phrase or sentence.“ http://thevisualcommunicationguy.com/2013/09/11/10-things-you-really-need-to-know-about-quotation-marks/
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47
You like to say love disappeared. And I swear it never left, but she talk like Kanye "Ima let you finish" shrug her shoulders; cut me off, Swift.     Drinks on the table it was no one else's business, Henny in my system there was no one else who witnessed how she never took a breath like a run on sentence so I'm in the club flexing working on my fitness; arms out stretched on my chest crucifixion.     I'm forgiven but could never get a word in not even one syllable I'm talking in synonyms I, never ever nevermore, words with friends.  Triple word how absurd you be trippin **** on my Instagram insecurity I'm tired of it I'm with my Boys chillin rarely smoked but might burn a spliff; ease the pain so insane major Payne fatigue is in.       I got a glimpse of future, I use to, try to hit you up reconnect, bluetooth, I'm in her ear lying for the *** I miss you, she on top giving me the truth: this all you.  But **** it though I'm not trynna be your man, but when she leaving out for work I be sleepin in and when she home I tax that *** like I'm Uncle Sam nothing ever change so after head she be at my neck next     Flashback to the present --and-- she still telling me how I don't get it stressed unproductive in her presence, you not even in front of me I'm still tasting lemons; Yo, my star player wants a trade should I let her go? cut too deep for bandaids should I let it flow.       Throwback to the past vampire clothes but the blood different I'm a sucker for that red though: she was floating 6 inches from the earth floor, you's a victim baby true blood, spoil us!  Show Me What You Got lil mama let your "Kingdom Come" dressed in all black spending money black republican?  Awesome and some; I was sliding home she was catching, clamping; say I turn her on like a touch screen, Samsung; with a touch of color you would disobey your mother as I slid under your covers mid-day massages "Midnight Maunders" at least that's how it use to be, now Award Tour got her trippin almost frequently we use to fight for love she said now she a causality!         "and how you gonna make this bout you it's about me, phone ringing since 1am it's about 3   thought you was slick huh, thought I was sleep, you **** right love disappeared" but she never leaves. She's still waiting to exhale, but she never breaths.
0
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
Ex-Boyfriend **** Boy] (Spoken Word)
You like to say love disappeared. And I swear it never left, but she talk like Kanye "Ima let you finish" shrug her shoulders; cut me off, Swift.     Drinks on the table it was no one else's business, Henny in my system there was no one else who witnessed how she never took a breath like a run on sentence so I'm in the club flexing working on my fitness; arms out stretched on my chest crucifixion.     I'm forgiven but could never get a word in not even one syllable I'm talking in synonyms I, never ever nevermore, words with friends.  Triple word how absurd you be trippin **** on my Instagram insecurity I'm tired of it I'm with my Boys chillin rarely smoked but might burn a spliff; ease the pain so insane major Payne fatigue is in.       I got a glimpse of future, I use to, try to hit you up reconnect, bluetooth, I'm in her ear lying for the *** I miss you, she on top giving me the truth: this all you.  But **** it though I'm not trynna be your man, but when she leaving out for work I be sleepin in and when she home I tax that *** like I'm Uncle Sam nothing ever change so after head she be at my neck next     Flashback to the present --and-- she still telling me how I don't get it stressed unproductive in her presence, you not even in front of me I'm still tasting lemons; Yo, my star player wants a trade should I let her go? cut too deep for bandaids should I let it flow.       Throwback to the past vampire clothes but the blood different I'm a sucker for that red though: she was floating 6 inches from the earth floor, you's a victim baby true blood, spoil us!  Show Me What You Got lil mama let your "Kingdom Come" dressed in all black spending money black republican?  Awesome and some; I was sliding home she was catching, clamping; say I turn her on like a touch screen, Samsung; with a touch of color you would disobey your mother as I slid under your covers mid-day massages "Midnight Maunders" at least that's how it use to be, now Award Tour got her trippin almost frequently we use to fight for love she said now she a causality!         "and how you gonna make this bout you it's about me, phone ringing since 1am it's about 3   thought you was slick huh, thought I was sleep, you **** right love disappeared" but she never leaves. She's still waiting to exhale, but she never breaths.
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26
i. Happy birthday To thee, dearest Friend. Mayest This remembrance of birth Be another year for thou To thinkest of none end's; But a brighter tommorrow. ii. Resteth gal sarah, Put away all of Thine sorrow's, Didst thou not Knoweth; there's A God who breaketh The alshshayatin Who cometh against Thee. iii. Thou art not alone, As me and mine Jane Art alway's there to Be, a friend in need. Growing seed's, to Help-another grow. iv. Mayest the morrow Be for thou, as white As snow; mayest the Seraphim, who surround's Thy worries and protects Thy home, showeth Thee the light above thine tear's. Smile mine friend, a friend is here. Mayest thy sight be clear, and thy crown Be uplifted and flared. As the world's glare Hast betrayed thine eye's. Observeth upward Wherein paradise lies; as thou wilt hath wing's one day O' laureate of poetry's net. O' brilliant friend; of Jane and mine. ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Thepoet(Sarah Ahmed) birthday dedication. Sorry Sarah day late on b day dedication... But a happy wonderful birthday from me a friend if you ever need one there as you have always been there for me and Jane and have always been a major blessing to me and Jane!!! May the heavens open to you, and may you overcome your battles you face in this world... HAPPY BIRTHDAY poetic friend !!!!
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Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 7:32 PM UTC
عيد ميلاد أحد الأصدقاء ( A friend's birthday) arabic tongue - birthday dedication to Thepoet ( Sarah Ahmed)
(for Christopher Isherwood) Seated after breakfast In this white-tiled cabin Arabs call the House where Everybody goes, Even melancholics Raise a cheer to Mrs. Nature for the primal Pleasure She bestows. *** is but a dream to Seventy-and-over, But a joy proposed un- -til we start to shave: Mouth-delight depends on Virtue in the cook, but This She guarantees from Cradle unto grave. Lifted off the ***** Infants from their mothers Hear their first impartial Words of worldly praise: Hence, to start the morning With a satisfactory Dump is a good omen All our adult days. Revelation came to Luther in a privy (Crosswords have been solved there) Rodin was no fool When he cast his Thinker, Cogitating deeply, Crouched in the position Of a man at stool. All the arts derive from This ur-act of making, Private to the artist: Makers' lives are spent Striving in their chosen Medium to produce a De-narcissus-ized en- During excrement. Freud did not invent the Constipated miser: Banks have letter boxes Built in their façade Marked For Night Deposits, Stocks are firm or liquid, Currencies of nations Either soft or hard. Global Mother, keep our Bowels of compassion Open through our lifetime, Purge our minds as well: Grant us a king ending, Not a second childhood, Petulant, weak-sphinctered, In a cheap hotel. Keep us in our station: When we get pound-notish, When we seem about to Take up Higher Thought, Send us some deflating Image like the pained ex- -pression on a Major Prophet taken short. (Orthodoxy ought to Bless our modern plumbing: Swift and St. Augustine Lived in centuries When a stench of sewage Made a strong debating Point for Manichees.) Mind and Body run on Different timetables: Not until our morning Visit here can we Leave the dead concerns of Yesterday behind us, Face with all our courage What is now to be.
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13.9k
The Geography of the House
(for Christopher Isherwood) Seated after breakfast In this white-tiled cabin Arabs call the House where Everybody goes, Even melancholics Raise a cheer to Mrs. Nature for the primal Pleasure She bestows. *** is but a dream to Seventy-and-over, But a joy proposed un- -til we start to shave: Mouth-delight depends on Virtue in the cook, but This She guarantees from Cradle unto grave. Lifted off the ***** Infants from their mothers Hear their first impartial Words of worldly praise: Hence, to start the morning With a satisfactory Dump is a good omen All our adult days. Revelation came to Luther in a privy (Crosswords have been solved there) Rodin was no fool When he cast his Thinker, Cogitating deeply, Crouched in the position Of a man at stool. All the arts derive from This ur-act of making, Private to the artist: Makers' lives are spent Striving in their chosen Medium to produce a De-narcissus-ized en- During excrement. Freud did not invent the Constipated miser: Banks have letter boxes Built in their façade Marked For Night Deposits, Stocks are firm or liquid, Currencies of nations Either soft or hard. Global Mother, keep our Bowels of compassion Open through our lifetime, Purge our minds as well: Grant us a king ending, Not a second childhood, Petulant, weak-sphinctered, In a cheap hotel. Keep us in our station: When we get pound-notish, When we seem about to Take up Higher Thought, Send us some deflating Image like the pained ex- -pression on a Major Prophet taken short. (Orthodoxy ought to Bless our modern plumbing: Swift and St. Augustine Lived in centuries When a stench of sewage Made a strong debating Point for Manichees.) Mind and Body run on Different timetables: Not until our morning Visit here can we Leave the dead concerns of Yesterday behind us, Face with all our courage What is now to be.
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80
She stands at the door to your heart knocking, steadily Not seeking out your head but obsessed with your conscience, Curious to dominate every burn of your passions, And seek recognition wherever you register your presences. She seeks to work in your work and gain expression, She moves with her entire family of Love, Respect and Tolerance       In all your dealings with those of your kind; She demands you let her take the lead if you don't mind. "Oh! if only they see how much they need me", she cries, "Then humanity would not be ruled by these many lies". Make haste and open the door don't further delay, She sees your desolation and seeks to brighten your day. She stands at the door to your heart please listen, This reviving call must not escape your sense of reason, Redefine and restore human values is her major quest, Meet Dignity; give her your best and she'l fulfill the rest.
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 4:56 AM UTC
Meet Dignity
One major injustice Won't destroy people like Many small ones. 10W Soul Survivor
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Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 8:31 PM UTC
Injustice
A catalyst is a chemical that speeds up reactions. At least that’s what I learned in chemistry class. Catalysts sometimes are the major factors in a reactions and without them, The reaction could never happen. Catalyst can be lab chemicals, alcohol, drugs, coffee even, or a person. While lounging around one afternoon you were talking physics And I turned it on your head and spoke of chemistry, Knowing full well that I was speaking of our personal chemistries. You were right, the physics of a relationship gives us the laws, But CHEMISTRY can predict the outcome. If you do the math and follow the directions, you can determine the product without even doing the experiment. Unless the reaction you are creating has never been attempted before by the scientists preforming the experiment. They can flip through the books, Read the essays, Study the theorems, Even attempt the calculations, But if they don’t do the actual experiment, They will never find their outcome. Some things need a push, A catalyst, For them to form a bond, React, And combine into a stable combination. Hypotheses must be TESTED, ACCEPTED, and RATIFIED Before becoming a law. No matter how based in logic your hypothesis might be, You need the universe and its fundamental laws to back it up. There are still surprises left in the universe. Maybe you and I can be one of them.
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Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
Catalyst for Change
. ***Ancient games tell tales of dust.  |||   A story drawn from the lips of two poets.*** ~~~~~ It's the wits that **** not Queens of ivory or ***ink. *** Charged with coal strokes, scraping up the lies. Pawns & Knights slip between the grasp of the sun, leaking into*   lion jaws of Leo. Shifting these granite plates, ignoring the Rooks common price of aslant. Here we have slain kin, crescent traitors that backstab the night and battlefield. Closed doors and trap floors, trade me a tie, swindling your tactic ruts. Reality never got the noose around our necks, check turned into manslaughter, and kingdoms ripped asunder by the roar of Jupiter Get up, get up, get away from these liars, they can't have your rank or your fire. Peak a notion, this match is spared by a luft. Toss away the pride buried 'neath your dusty skin, it don't matter no more if   death has you by the lips. Silence is a language too in our eyes of earth. Take my hand, knott your soul into this downfall, and brace yourself for the wreckage in our bones. The Sword of Sorrows will fall 'pon your shoulders, not to slay thee, but to dub thee a new day. The drums of war will knit the lyrics in the sky, singing: "The mighty sharpen their fangs, the weak sharpen their wisdom" ~~~~~ I'm tired of your wishbones, and golden scales, give me the hard-earned truth. Hot coals of honesty may you tread upon, shadow-bitten remorseful may you be, don't stray off the course of Ursa major. The North star isn't the one I follow It's the moon with all of it's phases, Eclipsing and crescent, tipping the sky with it's beauty. Now let this sink further than any soul has ever sunk, no man could ever *rule the moon. ~~~~~~ ***Shoot on command, C h           e c         k m a t       e*** ~~~~ You could drag me to hell and back and those words wouldn't mean anything. Let this downfall become a downfell, Because last I checked "Wolves worship the moon" and I have broke it's reflection in the water *Just by throwing s                     t           o          n                  e                               s                                        .* .
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Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
Playing Chess with Dragons
. ***Ancient games tell tales of dust.  |||   A story drawn from the lips of two poets.*** ~~~~~ It's the wits that **** not Queens of ivory or ***ink. *** Charged with coal strokes, scraping up the lies. Pawns & Knights slip between the grasp of the sun, leaking into*   lion jaws of Leo. Shifting these granite plates, ignoring the Rooks common price of aslant. Here we have slain kin, crescent traitors that backstab the night and battlefield. Closed doors and trap floors, trade me a tie, swindling your tactic ruts. Reality never got the noose around our necks, check turned into manslaughter, and kingdoms ripped asunder by the roar of Jupiter Get up, get up, get away from these liars, they can't have your rank or your fire. Peak a notion, this match is spared by a luft. Toss away the pride buried 'neath your dusty skin, it don't matter no more if   death has you by the lips. Silence is a language too in our eyes of earth. Take my hand, knott your soul into this downfall, and brace yourself for the wreckage in our bones. The Sword of Sorrows will fall 'pon your shoulders, not to slay thee, but to dub thee a new day. The drums of war will knit the lyrics in the sky, singing: "The mighty sharpen their fangs, the weak sharpen their wisdom" ~~~~~ I'm tired of your wishbones, and golden scales, give me the hard-earned truth. Hot coals of honesty may you tread upon, shadow-bitten remorseful may you be, don't stray off the course of Ursa major. The North star isn't the one I follow It's the moon with all of it's phases, Eclipsing and crescent, tipping the sky with it's beauty. Now let this sink further than any soul has ever sunk, no man could ever *rule the moon. ~~~~~~ ***Shoot on command, C h           e c         k m a t       e*** ~~~~ You could drag me to hell and back and those words wouldn't mean anything. Let this downfall become a downfell, Because last I checked "Wolves worship the moon" and I have broke it's reflection in the water *Just by throwing s                     t           o          n                  e                               s                                        .* .
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58
You're my storm cloud disguised as sunshine but your masquerade never stops the rain. Laughs like lightning flashing across your face sharp and dangerous, followed by the thunder of my ignorance, cluing you in on how far your lies stretch into my desperation to be wanted. Lightning. Thunder. Oh I never thought I was that funny Your electric strings Pull the punch lines out of my mouth. Thunder. The lightning's best friend. Thunder. You must really like me You must have told your friends about me too. Because that cackles coming out of their throats when I tell a joke sound just like the storm, the zigzags of fire that tear through the clouds. telling me how funny I am, how much they love having me around. How you need me. Time for my response… its my job right? Thunder. Thunder. Why is it now that the way you curl your lips when I make my jokes looking less and less like a smile? Your friends know that shape and they know how to make their lips look the same way. Is it some contagious thing that they all have, and disease passed around the room every time that lightning escapes. But they all think I am funny It must just be a friend thing… I should learn how to do it too. Thunder. Thunder. Streaming pixels Blurry faces of “friends” it must have been a mistake The love me next time, I’ll make sure to clear it up with them why wouldn't they want me to attend? Thunder. Thunder. Glances like knives Darting through the air like flies and infestation of insects that carry messages that I don’t understand. But they do. Like a major league team catch after catch never missing those eyes that seem a little bit darker and a little bit colder. Passing the ball around the bases returning the favor. Why can’t I grip ball that seems to bind them all together leaving trails of text messages and parties that I was not invited to this ball that seems to always keep me on the outfield. And how come everytime that ball goes around and around…. its feels like a punch to the stomach never ceasing to knock me down and leave me breathless. This must be what friendship feels like… Thunder. Is it? because I look around these hallways where I always walk to fast trying to keep up yet I am always one step behind. I see that these other girls walk in straight lines arms joined so that no one falls too far behind yet I’m always walking in dizzy circles wondering when they will turn around to see if I am still following, still standing, still funny. Thunder, the lightning's best friend… but that is never who I was to you.
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Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 2:49 PM UTC
Funny :)
You're my storm cloud disguised as sunshine but your masquerade never stops the rain. Laughs like lightning flashing across your face sharp and dangerous, followed by the thunder of my ignorance, cluing you in on how far your lies stretch into my desperation to be wanted. Lightning. Thunder. Oh I never thought I was that funny Your electric strings Pull the punch lines out of my mouth. Thunder. The lightning's best friend. Thunder. You must really like me You must have told your friends about me too. Because that cackles coming out of their throats when I tell a joke sound just like the storm, the zigzags of fire that tear through the clouds. telling me how funny I am, how much they love having me around. How you need me. Time for my response… its my job right? Thunder. Thunder. Why is it now that the way you curl your lips when I make my jokes looking less and less like a smile? Your friends know that shape and they know how to make their lips look the same way. Is it some contagious thing that they all have, and disease passed around the room every time that lightning escapes. But they all think I am funny It must just be a friend thing… I should learn how to do it too. Thunder. Thunder. Streaming pixels Blurry faces of “friends” it must have been a mistake The love me next time, I’ll make sure to clear it up with them why wouldn't they want me to attend? Thunder. Thunder. Glances like knives Darting through the air like flies and infestation of insects that carry messages that I don’t understand. But they do. Like a major league team catch after catch never missing those eyes that seem a little bit darker and a little bit colder. Passing the ball around the bases returning the favor. Why can’t I grip ball that seems to bind them all together leaving trails of text messages and parties that I was not invited to this ball that seems to always keep me on the outfield. And how come everytime that ball goes around and around…. its feels like a punch to the stomach never ceasing to knock me down and leave me breathless. This must be what friendship feels like… Thunder. Is it? because I look around these hallways where I always walk to fast trying to keep up yet I am always one step behind. I see that these other girls walk in straight lines arms joined so that no one falls too far behind yet I’m always walking in dizzy circles wondering when they will turn around to see if I am still following, still standing, still funny. Thunder, the lightning's best friend… but that is never who I was to you.
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108
I wrote you a poem and all you said was “I love you!” and I need a whole lot more than that   Did you know Marilyn Monroe was borderline too and what did that leave her besides a suicidal mess I do not look up to? But I guess she did **** JFK so there's that Today is valentines day and I didn’t say anthing to you about it because I know you hate February 14 because 2 years ago you had that major surgery You didn’t talk to me until 4:20 today and that was only to laugh about the timing and it's really hard for me to not tell you that I wanted to **** myself today but instead I wrote 5 poems and drank too much coffee and **** I would really **** for a cigarette right now that I have to use my charm to get because im only 17 but somehow I always “forget” my ID and wear a low cut shirt and flirt openly with the 40 year old indian guy across the counter just so I can get my illegal nicotine I wonder what my mother would say about that
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Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
Borderline Personality Disorder
•        you                secretly                        wishing, for                               your writes to be                                 noticed•simple sign                              that they have not been                           missed•with every view                      and every like•your popu-                larity does spike•somewhat           places your art on the poetry       map•between major players,        you close the gap•constantly       checking to see  who's been               reading•you're always deli-                ghted to see the *'yellow                       lightning'*•a wish...                                 for those who                                   are writ-                     ing       • secretly hope not only for your words to be reaching far and wide, but also... trending
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 9:31 AM UTC
Trending
Did you know that if you don't stretch in the correct way, you might end up thwarting the entire purpose of your workout and suffer unwanted injuries? Doing pre-workout stretches thoroughly will determine whether you are benefiting from your workout or whether it's worsening your muscle tear. Here are the major stretching crimes that you should never commit. Not doing a proper warm-up According to gym instructors worldwide, this is the most commonly committed crimes in any gym. A warm-up is a must before any kind of workout — cardio or weights — and must ideally last at least 12-15 minutes. Assuming that stretching is a warm-up Stretching and warming up is not the same. You need to warm up first, before you are ready to stretch. A slow jog or brisk walking on the treadmill is a good warm-up. Rushing through your stretching exercises Stretching should be for the entire body. You cannot skip any parts. Involve stretches that work your lower back, shoulders, calves, stomach, quads etc. You should not move from one stretch to the other in very quick succession because that may cause untoward injuries. Try to hold each stretch for 20 seconds. When you breathe deeply and hold the stretch, your muscles get trained to tolerate the maximum that your limbs can go to. Giving stretching a skip after a workout You have done an hour of strenuous exercise and now you just want to rush out of the gym; that is a huge mistake. Spend some time bending and stretching after your sweat session. Then, do a cool down before you leave the gym. Not stretching every day You need to be your flexible best always and that can only happen if you stretch daily, even on the days that you aren't gymming. This ensures that your gym days are more fruitful and that you make the most of them. Not breathing properly Breathing right is a very important aspect of stretching. Breathe naturally while you inhale through your nose, expand your rib cage and upper abdomen as you fill in your lungs. When exhaling, breathe out through your mouth, preferably making an audible sound. This relaxes you. While stretching, you need to breathe out when you are exerting, that is, when you are actually contracting your muscles. Doing static stretches Never stand still and do stretches that work only one muscle. You should rather do stretches that work a group of muscles — like a lunge that stretches your upper hamstring muscle, your ankles and also your glutes. Ignoring pain while stretching When you are in the middle of a stretch and you feel pain, stop immediately and consult an expert. Your stretch should make you feel a gentle pull only, not immense pain. If you are hurting, you are doing it wrong. Rest a few days and then go back to working out under a qualified trainer.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses
0
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 5:40 AM UTC
8 stretching mistakes you should never commit
Did you know that if you don't stretch in the correct way, you might end up thwarting the entire purpose of your workout and suffer unwanted injuries? Doing pre-workout stretches thoroughly will determine whether you are benefiting from your workout or whether it's worsening your muscle tear. Here are the major stretching crimes that you should never commit. Not doing a proper warm-up According to gym instructors worldwide, this is the most commonly committed crimes in any gym. A warm-up is a must before any kind of workout — cardio or weights — and must ideally last at least 12-15 minutes. Assuming that stretching is a warm-up Stretching and warming up is not the same. You need to warm up first, before you are ready to stretch. A slow jog or brisk walking on the treadmill is a good warm-up. Rushing through your stretching exercises Stretching should be for the entire body. You cannot skip any parts. Involve stretches that work your lower back, shoulders, calves, stomach, quads etc. You should not move from one stretch to the other in very quick succession because that may cause untoward injuries. Try to hold each stretch for 20 seconds. When you breathe deeply and hold the stretch, your muscles get trained to tolerate the maximum that your limbs can go to. Giving stretching a skip after a workout You have done an hour of strenuous exercise and now you just want to rush out of the gym; that is a huge mistake. Spend some time bending and stretching after your sweat session. Then, do a cool down before you leave the gym. Not stretching every day You need to be your flexible best always and that can only happen if you stretch daily, even on the days that you aren't gymming. This ensures that your gym days are more fruitful and that you make the most of them. Not breathing properly Breathing right is a very important aspect of stretching. Breathe naturally while you inhale through your nose, expand your rib cage and upper abdomen as you fill in your lungs. When exhaling, breathe out through your mouth, preferably making an audible sound. This relaxes you. While stretching, you need to breathe out when you are exerting, that is, when you are actually contracting your muscles. Doing static stretches Never stand still and do stretches that work only one muscle. You should rather do stretches that work a group of muscles — like a lunge that stretches your upper hamstring muscle, your ankles and also your glutes. Ignoring pain while stretching When you are in the middle of a stretch and you feel pain, stop immediately and consult an expert. Your stretch should make you feel a gentle pull only, not immense pain. If you are hurting, you are doing it wrong. Rest a few days and then go back to working out under a qualified trainer.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses
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18
5 o'clock, I should start my homework Haha that's a funny one I'll just go on Facebook instead 6 o'clock, Time to eat dinner This shouldn't take too long I can start my work after 7 o'clock, Okay I'm done eating I should really get my homework started Goes on Twitter for an hour 8 o'clock, Oh **** it's 8:00 already? I'm serious I'll start my homework now Oh look someone texted me 9 o'clock, How the **** did an hour go by already? That was like ten minutes max Oh well, I wonder what's new on YouTube? 11 o'clock, Did I really just spend two hours watching videos on YouTube? Wow I have a problem I wonder what's happened on Facebook since I left? 12 o'clock, Oh **** it's a new day I have school in eight hours and my homework isn't started Well I'm not going to get any sleep so I might as well just stay up later 1 o'clock, Wow I'm so tired Homework is stupid Why do teachers give homework? Whoever invented homework is dead to me 2 o'clock, Haha I'm still going Tomorrow is about to be rough But now that "tomorrow" is today I have to last a full day on no sleep Wait I still have to start my ******* homework 3 o'clock, Finally started my homework Too tired to process anything This homework is gonna take forever cause I'm exhausted out of my ******* mind 4 o'clock, School starts in four hours What the **** am I doing? Why did I have to procrastinate? Why do I do this to myself? I have a major problem 5 o'clock, Finished my homework Have to wake up in an hour Oh well, an hour is better than none I'm never procrastinating again! Cycle repeats tomorrow
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Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 8:08 PM UTC
In the Life of a Procrastinating Student
5 o'clock, I should start my homework Haha that's a funny one I'll just go on Facebook instead 6 o'clock, Time to eat dinner This shouldn't take too long I can start my work after 7 o'clock, Okay I'm done eating I should really get my homework started Goes on Twitter for an hour 8 o'clock, Oh **** it's 8:00 already? I'm serious I'll start my homework now Oh look someone texted me 9 o'clock, How the **** did an hour go by already? That was like ten minutes max Oh well, I wonder what's new on YouTube? 11 o'clock, Did I really just spend two hours watching videos on YouTube? Wow I have a problem I wonder what's happened on Facebook since I left? 12 o'clock, Oh **** it's a new day I have school in eight hours and my homework isn't started Well I'm not going to get any sleep so I might as well just stay up later 1 o'clock, Wow I'm so tired Homework is stupid Why do teachers give homework? Whoever invented homework is dead to me 2 o'clock, Haha I'm still going Tomorrow is about to be rough But now that "tomorrow" is today I have to last a full day on no sleep Wait I still have to start my ******* homework 3 o'clock, Finally started my homework Too tired to process anything This homework is gonna take forever cause I'm exhausted out of my ******* mind 4 o'clock, School starts in four hours What the **** am I doing? Why did I have to procrastinate? Why do I do this to myself? I have a major problem 5 o'clock, Finished my homework Have to wake up in an hour Oh well, an hour is better than none I'm never procrastinating again! Cycle repeats tomorrow
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43
Dr. F. Wilhem discovered it by accident you see?    The first man downloaded was no longer man. He suffered dearly until the plug was pulled,     and we started over again; with biologists. Geneticists, Embryonticians, TransEugenecists,     all celebrated the new fast-growing body. No more deaths at old age expiry, on battlefields.     for a price all would live eternally; eternity here. It did not work. The bodies worked, the software recorded     but the people were insanely bi-polar. Insane in fact. Until we switched the torso and genetics in tandem.    then somehow the surviving person retained all memories! They were in fact; themselves! Just in a different gendered body?    Unfortunately for everyone this was a major psychological shock. Unexplainable, sure, evolution took four billion years so...     ...more time, more time, more experimentation is all we need. Wilhelm changed it all. When he added the shock, added the <human> response, turning the machines into Humans. They are truly A.I. ...verily human in fact. Animal-ish, peaceful then angry, terrible or violent. Artificially Intelligent; Humans. *"What good is it to change a person,               ...merely into someone else?"* -Al Abd Azaz *To see beneath the surface, and know the ocean tydes. To see beneath the surface, and know the ocean tydes. To see beneath the surface, and know the ocean tydes.* *
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Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 12:14 AM UTC
Wilhelm's Widget
time and tide waits for none nor does the soldier of the battle won swift as the light that pass the mist crept the landmass thunder and lightning left out when the major called out ahoy! all brave men the sons of the Ganges terrain reach out to the far north where the enemy slept forth show no mercy for you'l receive none feel no pain and march as one here's the ensign to raise up aloft think of the weary deeds that you've got let the din of cannon shred the rhythm to carry you in right tread never panic when the men grew wear wave the standard to shook the fear never misjudge the foe as weak but remember your oath to our peak never fall when ponderous struck never halt when stark strike fight till your warmth is turned icy then the hawkish eyes will see the unbeaten soul stamped on Indian lads the mortal's robes you 've clad holds the blessings of thousand which will retain your soul and spirit even when the tricolor is laid on the honored graves made hold tightly like limpet till success is met march brave Indians with gusto and show them you are a maestro draw your sword across to pierce the devil's heart across
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May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 4:08 AM UTC
THE MAJOR'S COMMAND
Every word that I've said to you has been analyzed By you By her By everyone I speak in rhymes and riddles to confuse But you understand Not always at first but you do So I hope you understand me Now more than ever
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Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
Ground Control To Major Tom
Hear the bass, grace notes race all over the place Cymbals paced, hi-hats chase, weaving between the bass The piano - chords struck with wide spanned hands Poly-rhythmic, multi-layered sounds in strands The timbre of reed vibrating against warm metal Precision; a sixth, a ninth and an eleventh interval A major, a minor scale; a frantic modal sweat A small sound for mankind; but a truly giant step Each note slices through the eclectic beat-drop Singing and whispering this post-modern be-bop Multi-phonics scream, like controlled feedback The seductive saxophone – this weapon of attack The boundary is stretched, new ground broken The holy saxophone has never thus spoken And I pay homage, all my deepest respects Go to the man who made those giant steps
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Aug 22, 2011
Aug 22, 2011 at 9:25 AM UTC
Giant Steps - dedicated to John Coltrane
My 2 Cents “the advocacy of women’s rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality to men.” Let me start by mentioning that I don’t usually get involved with political matters, but in this case, I’d say it’s more of a basic human rights matter. I’m a man, and I’m a feminist. I was lucky enough to grow up in a home with three women; my mother and two older sisters. Growing up with them gave me an enormous amount of respect for women, (even though I may have lost a certain amount of socially expected masculinity along the way), and their current lives continue to increase my respect for the opposite gender. My oldest sister is leaving to study abroad at Oxford in less than a week to major in philosophy. Philosophy. She also graduated high school with a 4.0 and was involved in power lifting competitions and is enlisted in ROTC. Simply put, she’s an animal. She’s worked hard her entire life and I’d hate to see a world that put that hard work to waste. My other sister is working three jobs to pay her way through college and is planning to major in psychology. I’m always envious of her work ethic and level of commitment to not only her education, but to her friends and family as well. My mother has been my backbone since I was a child. She was always the one I turned to in times of trouble, and continues to be. She works hard everyday, while going through mentally straining marriage problems, and comes home and still asks me about my day. She has given me nothing but unconditional love for my entire existence. For these reasons, it boggles my mind why anyone would ever be anti-feminism. I am genuinely confused as to why, because their bodies are different, women get less privileges, respect, opportunities, and even money. I just don’t get it. I am also disgusted that women are seen by most men as walking ****** organs. l will admit genuine guilt to using the number scale to “rate” women. It’s something I grew up with, but now it sickens me. Assigning a number to a woman based on your misguided views on how she should look, whether you would **** her, is something I find repulsive. There’s nothing wrong with admiring the opposite *** but no one gives a **** about your stupid opinion, especially the woman. I hope someday if I ever have a daughter that she will have the privilege of living in a country of gender equality, tolerance, and open-mindedness. Anyway, I just wanted to put my two cents in. I am a man. I am a feminist. Peace.
0
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
My Two Cents
My 2 Cents “the advocacy of women’s rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality to men.” Let me start by mentioning that I don’t usually get involved with political matters, but in this case, I’d say it’s more of a basic human rights matter. I’m a man, and I’m a feminist. I was lucky enough to grow up in a home with three women; my mother and two older sisters. Growing up with them gave me an enormous amount of respect for women, (even though I may have lost a certain amount of socially expected masculinity along the way), and their current lives continue to increase my respect for the opposite gender. My oldest sister is leaving to study abroad at Oxford in less than a week to major in philosophy. Philosophy. She also graduated high school with a 4.0 and was involved in power lifting competitions and is enlisted in ROTC. Simply put, she’s an animal. She’s worked hard her entire life and I’d hate to see a world that put that hard work to waste. My other sister is working three jobs to pay her way through college and is planning to major in psychology. I’m always envious of her work ethic and level of commitment to not only her education, but to her friends and family as well. My mother has been my backbone since I was a child. She was always the one I turned to in times of trouble, and continues to be. She works hard everyday, while going through mentally straining marriage problems, and comes home and still asks me about my day. She has given me nothing but unconditional love for my entire existence. For these reasons, it boggles my mind why anyone would ever be anti-feminism. I am genuinely confused as to why, because their bodies are different, women get less privileges, respect, opportunities, and even money. I just don’t get it. I am also disgusted that women are seen by most men as walking ****** organs. l will admit genuine guilt to using the number scale to “rate” women. It’s something I grew up with, but now it sickens me. Assigning a number to a woman based on your misguided views on how she should look, whether you would **** her, is something I find repulsive. There’s nothing wrong with admiring the opposite *** but no one gives a **** about your stupid opinion, especially the woman. I hope someday if I ever have a daughter that she will have the privilege of living in a country of gender equality, tolerance, and open-mindedness. Anyway, I just wanted to put my two cents in. I am a man. I am a feminist. Peace.
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15
The Story by Kamal Nasser translation by Michael R. Burch I will tell you a story ... a story that lived in the dreams of my people, a story that comes from the world of tents. It is a story inspired by hunger and embellished by dark nights of terror. It is the story of my country, a handful of refugees. Every twenty of them have a pound of flour between them and a few promises of relief ... gifts and parcels. It is the story of the suffering ones who stood waiting in line ten years, in hunger, in tears and agony, in hardship and yearning. It is a story of a people who were misled, who were thrown into the mazes of the years. And yet they stood defiant, disrobed yet united as they trudged from the light to their tents: the revolution of return into the world of darkness. Kamal Nasser was a much-admired Palestinian poet and Palestinian Christian, who due to his renowned integrity was known as "The Conscience." He was a member of Jordan's parliament in 1956. He was murdered in 1973 by an Israeli death squad whose most notorious member was future Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak. Barak (born Ehud Brog) later ruled as Israel’s tenth Prime Minister from 1999 to 2001. His adopted Hebrew name Barak means "lightning." As a younger man, Brog/Barak was a member of a secret assassination unit that liquidated Palestinians in Lebanon and the occupied territories. In the 1973 covert mission Operation Spring of Youth in Beirut, which was part of the larger Operation Wrath of God, he disguised himself as a woman in order to assassinate Palestinians. The raid resulted in the deaths of two women, one of them an elderly Italian. Two Lebanese policemen were also killed, along with the poet Kamal Nasser. Nasser was the PLO's most prominent Christian and he enjoyed "great appeal" in Lebanon, Syria, and Iraq "both as a distinguished poet and likeable personality." He was the “conscience of the Palestinian revolution,” according to Nazih Abul-Nidal, who worked with him on the magazine Filastin al-Thawra. Nasser “had the most democratic outlook of all Palestinian leaders at the time,” he recalls. He respected opposing views, admired the commitment of young people, and was a major recruitment asset for the Palestinian revolution. “That is why he was put high on the hit-list.” The previous year, the Israelis had murdered another renowned Palestinian writer and activist in Beirut, Ghassan Kanafani, by booby-trapping his car. Nasser’s successor, Majed Abu Sharar, was also assassinated by Israelis, in Rome in 1981 while attending a conference in solidarity with the Palestinian people. Keywords/Tags: Kamal Nasser, Palestinian, Palestine, PLO, Conscience, Ramallah, Christian, religion, poet, Arab, Arabic, Arab Spring, betrayal, conflict, courage, devotion
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Dec 9, 2021
Dec 9, 2021 at 7:55 AM UTC
Translation of "The Story" by the Palestinian poet Kamal Nasser
The Story by Kamal Nasser translation by Michael R. Burch I will tell you a story ... a story that lived in the dreams of my people, a story that comes from the world of tents. It is a story inspired by hunger and embellished by dark nights of terror. It is the story of my country, a handful of refugees. Every twenty of them have a pound of flour between them and a few promises of relief ... gifts and parcels. It is the story of the suffering ones who stood waiting in line ten years, in hunger, in tears and agony, in hardship and yearning. It is a story of a people who were misled, who were thrown into the mazes of the years. And yet they stood defiant, disrobed yet united as they trudged from the light to their tents: the revolution of return into the world of darkness. Kamal Nasser was a much-admired Palestinian poet and Palestinian Christian, who due to his renowned integrity was known as "The Conscience." He was a member of Jordan's parliament in 1956. He was murdered in 1973 by an Israeli death squad whose most notorious member was future Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak. Barak (born Ehud Brog) later ruled as Israel’s tenth Prime Minister from 1999 to 2001. His adopted Hebrew name Barak means "lightning." As a younger man, Brog/Barak was a member of a secret assassination unit that liquidated Palestinians in Lebanon and the occupied territories. In the 1973 covert mission Operation Spring of Youth in Beirut, which was part of the larger Operation Wrath of God, he disguised himself as a woman in order to assassinate Palestinians. The raid resulted in the deaths of two women, one of them an elderly Italian. Two Lebanese policemen were also killed, along with the poet Kamal Nasser. Nasser was the PLO's most prominent Christian and he enjoyed "great appeal" in Lebanon, Syria, and Iraq "both as a distinguished poet and likeable personality." He was the “conscience of the Palestinian revolution,” according to Nazih Abul-Nidal, who worked with him on the magazine Filastin al-Thawra. Nasser “had the most democratic outlook of all Palestinian leaders at the time,” he recalls. He respected opposing views, admired the commitment of young people, and was a major recruitment asset for the Palestinian revolution. “That is why he was put high on the hit-list.” The previous year, the Israelis had murdered another renowned Palestinian writer and activist in Beirut, Ghassan Kanafani, by booby-trapping his car. Nasser’s successor, Majed Abu Sharar, was also assassinated by Israelis, in Rome in 1981 while attending a conference in solidarity with the Palestinian people. Keywords/Tags: Kamal Nasser, Palestinian, Palestine, PLO, Conscience, Ramallah, Christian, religion, poet, Arab, Arabic, Arab Spring, betrayal, conflict, courage, devotion
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