"mandates" poems
No option, but to be perceived
Violent, Aggressive, Irrational
Identity becoming an other
Words of malice, they mystify
Words of ignorance, they vilify
Subverting consciousness and articulation
Our identities, fighting to be
Autonomous landscapes
Hoping in anticipation for liberation
No real notion of we or me
Implicating it's inhuman to be foreign
When they represent as much of we and me
Scandalizing alternative identities as subversive
Advancing erasures in favor of hegemony
Propaganda favoring what is most white
Amelioration for the obliteration of cunning identity?
No more cooperation, ****** the euphemisms
That cover up, and help justify marginalization
Our identities, fighting to be
Autonomous landscapes
Hoping in anticipation for liberation
Time to **** ****** massacre eurocentric ideology
We preach no violence, being not them, just we
But cannot request to be free, must tear it out by force
Eurocentric ideological pandemic inhabiting, inhibiting the soul of mankind
Unthinkable abomination concealed in the veil of appropriated minds
Necessitating exorcism for the incarcerated conscious mind
When we completely violate mandates of eurocentric ideology
When only we appropriate our own identity
When we all nullify the color of our skin
As profanity or inadequacy
Our identities, fighting to be
Autonomous landscapes
Hoping in anticipation for liberation
Will be awaiting purgation from alienation
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 6:25 PM UTC
Sweet girl! though only once we met,
That meeting I shall ne’er forget;
And though we ne’er may meet again,
Remembrance will thy form retain;
I would not say, “I love,” but still,
My senses struggle with my will:
In vain to drive thee from my breast,
My thoughts are more and more represt;
In vain I check the rising sighs,
Another to the last replies:
Perhaps, this is not love, but yet,
Our meeting I can ne’er forget.
What, though we never silence broke,
Our eyes a sweeter language spoke;
The tongue in flattering falsehood deals,
And tells a tale it never feels:
Deceit, the guilty lips impart,
And hush the mandates of the heart;
But soul’s interpreters, the eyes,
Spurn such restraint, and scorn disguise.
As thus our glances oft convers’d,
And all our bosoms felt rehears’d,
No spirit, from within, reprov’d us,
Say rather, “’twas the spirit mov’d us.”
Though, what they utter’d, I repress,
Yet I conceive thou’lt partly guess;
For as on thee, my memory ponders,
Perchance to me, thine also wanders.
This, for myself, at least, I’ll say,
Thy form appears through night, through day;
Awake, with it my fancy teems,
In sleep, it smiles in fleeting dreams;
The vision charms the hours away,
And bids me curse Aurora’s ray
For breaking slumbers of delight,
Which make me wish for endless night.
Since, oh! whate’er my future fate,
Shall joy or woe my steps await;
Tempted by love, by storms beset,
Thine image, I can ne’er forget.
Alas! again no more we meet,
No more our former looks repeat;
Then, let me breathe this parting prayer,
The dictate of my bosom’s care:
“May Heaven so guard my lovely quaker,
That anguish never can o’ertake her;
That peace and virtue ne’er forsake her,
But bliss be aye her heart’s partaker!
Oh! may the happy mortal, fated
To be, by dearest ties, related,
For her, each hour, new joys discover,
And lose the husband in the lover!
May that fair ***** never know
What ’tis to feel the restless woe,
Which stings the soul, with vain regret,
Of him, who never can forget!”
2.6k
“Words are beautiful, but emotion is divine” (patty m)
~these are the divine words of a beautiful soul, patty m~
this Missouri grandmother writes and I am willfully, duty-bound,
to comply for she commissions a poem with every insightful pithy and
ever one of her dear hugs, of which these is no limit and each one a treasure of a gratitude that flows contra-directionally, surpassing given-grace and lawful gravity, for all of her words flow simultaneously north and south, heavenwards, and earth planted, east / west, magnetic poles attracting divinity wherever it can be found
and all I can do is proffer
just one more only love poem, which is the blessing and the curse the lord blessed me with, love is beautiful and it is divinely originated in each of our humble hearts, plucked from trees and fed to us wherever fruit of the fields grows, shaped like sweet and **** berries…not all that is divine, of necessity to be beautiful, words, them too, a mixed blessing, vulnerable and subject by the abuse of human weakness and fragility…but this much I assure myself with confidence,
and you too,
her words, well,
limitless, her every poem is hand woven, unhid, in the fooling
plain earthenware that the potter’s wheel created,
all gifts to each of us;
*But my fragility mandates I speak slow and hesitantly of things beautiful that contain the white glow sparkler light of divinity, for I have attracted and deserved many failures, far greater than the rarer success, so my knowledge yet oft suspect, is mostly merely well imagined but know this:
her skill,
her expertise
her intimate comprehension
within the beautiful and divine expressions of her kind appreciation she deigns to share…words like a mighty, beautiful like a powerful Missouri river, driven by all specie of love…but none more powerful, more divine than that of a loving womanly grandmother*
this, yes, only a love poem to be sure,
for the beautiful,
The Divine Miss (Patty) M.
Jul 24, 2023
Jul 24, 2023 at 5:44 PM UTC
Prerogative presumptive judicature, cantankerous cantilever capacity. Paradoxical dichotomy greaves, gauntlets gamut catalyst abstracts, asymmetrical symmetry. Objectified manifest's dimensional delineation, intrinsic endemic innate opaque opulence. Protractive analyses accidence ambience acoustics. Spatiotemporal telemetry tactician's trajectory extant.
Prophylaxis protocol annex annul. Kinesiology kleptomaniac extraversion embezzlement euthanasia extortion, embark embargo extradition. Aura roan's rainbow mare's nimbus nimiety exorcism. Corporeally preternatural's existential exigence exodus. Cerebral cortex's ****** matrix's carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma, apex axis crux, exponentially extemporaneous manumission. Categorical imperative hubris, hectic duty deontological probity.
Astral projection's clairaudience clairvoyance. Tenets and principles, maxims and axioms, and doctrinal mandates. Exserted protuberance's edifice ******** Exotically ****** ethereally sublime xylem Xanadu sails. Erotica erectile errantry.
Fulham nuance ***** Formidable foundry of a foyer fracas. Harpy harsh hast, atrium attrition seditious. Oak tree ****** nails swarthy ******** swath swizzles and unicorn railway sails. Anchor pin tachometer troll wood harlotry's root clod rudiments, lightning bow hat pick. Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist. Transpicuous translucence alluvium aloof impunity.
Feb 21, 2021
Feb 21, 2021 at 10:07 PM UTC
Expectation destroys everything
All of you should know that
After all, I am a human being
Not an AI-programmed robot
How much can I manage at a time?
You expect me to work
And aggressively at that
Handling five mandates at a time
When you very well know
That even three is not a walk in the park
You expect me to exercise
When I barely have time to complete my work
And on top of that
You expect me to eat
You expect me to drink
And you expect me to sleep
Like every other human being
Do you even hear yourself?
Expectation destroys everything
What do you get
When you expect too much from people?
Disappointment
Do you really want that?
I repeat, I am a human being
Not an AI-programmed robot
Put yourself in my shoes
And see if you can achieve
What you're expecting me to achieve
Of course, you love to say
That I need to be flexible
Well, I certainly do my best
But you need to know
That, sometimes, even your best is not enough
When you're up against time
Because time is not flexible
And will never be
Expectation destroys everything
I hope you will realise this some day
Because, if you don't
Then it will be your loss, not mine
Until then, here's to expecting
And getting disappointed
Apr 22, 2022
Apr 22, 2022 at 12:05 PM UTC
Wear your words.
Let all hear the fatigue you bare.
Paint portraits with phrases.
Sound symphonies with imagery
that your idioms decree.
Establish edifices with nouns and verbs
so magnificent that none disturb.
Make your mind match your mandates.
Engage in your expressions proudly.
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 4:49 PM UTC
Isn’t it something that two bodies connected by an unwritten creed, were emotionally trapped but physically freed?
As civil individuals the two gained public recognition, became restricted, by each other’s verbal jurisdiction.
They were paradoxical and fragile in more ways than one, like an albino celebrity, a star that stays away from the sun.
Now they say long distance love mandates communication for jubilation, but they had never been used to such distant segregation.
He wanted to be lint-less, and wanted her not to cling, he wanted to be free, to him this was just a fling.
She wanted to be loved and thought he wanted space, but secretly it killed her, thus the emotion on her face.
Now where I come into play, is relative but strange, seated in a class room that was randomly arranged.
Like the flipping of a coin, the result somewhat unknown, by chance we’d ended up somewhere private, and alone.
So, two bodies connected by an unspeakable pact, were emotionally joined by an extremely physical act.
I'll just leave what happened to the readers imagination...
Nevermind, we ******
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
You know how I work
You know the amount of work I put in
Every hour, every day
Every week, every month
It would be the easiest thing in the world
To slack off, for a change
Or work at a snail's pace
After all, I've worked with you
For a long, long time
Therefore, it would be easy for me to think
That I am indispensable
Or that I can take you for granted
But if I do that
Then I wouldn't be Ashwin
So, coming back to the point
You know I am overworked
In fact, we all are
You have even acknowledged it
At some point or the other
And are trying to set things right
By adding more people to the team
However, for some reason
Things have always ended up going south
At the eleventh hour
While I do appreciate your endeavours
What I would really like
Is for you to appreciate our efforts
On a regular basis
And try as far as possible
To ensure some balance in the workload
So that we don't end up biting more than we can chew
After all, a few people have recently left
You don't want to add to that number, do you?
So, please think twice
Before assigning any new mandates
Especially to someone who hasn't fully recovered from COVID yet
Sep 2, 2022
Sep 2, 2022 at 12:42 PM UTC
Pharmacopoeias
Pseudo psychedelic phantasms
Kaleidoscopic deliriums
Mushroom acerbic cloud igniting
Truth denying exposition
Chemical makeup
Dressed to ****
From seed
To harvest
To market
To dinner plate
To grave
In wooden box decaying
Infatuations with infrastructures in frustration
Genetically modified bullets
BT Corn ripping organs
Exposing the explosion
Imploding on a sunny afternoon in March
Ants on the streets
Trampled by elephants’ ***** in the parade
Rats in slavery’s maze
Corporations’ corporate mandates
Sold out government conspiracy
To cover up the conspiracy of conspiracies
TV eyes ratted out you and yours
A fist-full of dollar bills
Some odd change to clink in the wishing well
Monsanto seeds die at plantation
Reincarnation of a deadly virus
Sow the soil and reap rewards of petulance pestilence
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 7:18 PM UTC
I sit at the window sill
Summoning for spring's till
Of thickets of green mandates fill
The procession and succession with frill
All rise with new blossoms being a thrill
My spring garden fitting the bill
For the little birdies that mill
With their pleas of a worms swill
First, let's arrest the lingering winter chill
The deliberating ill
Citing that bitter bitter pill
That sentences my grief's overspill
With the last backlog of snow on the hill
Of the icy roads that overkill
Free my hammer from waiting still
For the arrival of springs shrill
And the exit of winter's will
My eyes hold court for the first daffodil
Logan Robertson
4/08/2019
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 5:38 AM UTC
Easier to snap stitches sown by a witch,
Individual infliction, comforts to materialize,
Mentally-made pain,
Not one to take a knife to my vein,
Mentally tortured till I'm convinced to claw at those arteries
Peer pressure, I am more than just a friend look for gain,
Naturally nourished before incubation
Neurologically nestled till you learn of our need,
To share an existence, that I will also perceive,
If only we could say, If only I could see,
Our minds can ******* the bold,
Those egos bring us deeper than the worms,
The roots of a cemetery’s dying trees no one can reach,
Keeping us quickly exiting this existence,
The discovery of complete darkness or another chance to perceive,
The mystery that keeps you listening to me,
From lobes that function and breathe
My torment fostered from a self-destructive process,
Thoughts fomented in the cranial corridors of a mind in need,
Independent and only recently unaware,
The mind doesn’t fear the electric chair,
Each day will bring trouble,
But some will bring you peace and a sense of a soul once more,
In the wake of mind that mandates, manipulates,
Be the powerhouse that reaches for your own controls,
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 7:23 AM UTC
I found you.
Amidst distant humming grasshoppers
and humid evening air,
I found you.
Or maybe you found me.
Maybe you’re finding me.
2 am came early last night;
our words far too honest,
our eyes far too tired.
Maybe our bones too.
Ignoring time’s mandates you
ripped my heart straight from my chest
with bare hands
(living)
(pulsing)
(messy)
and laid it on the table next to yours.
I’m still not sure how to put it back,
so I’ll carry it around with both hands
until you’re there to examine it again.
And I’ll spend all the time apart wondering
why it feels better
outside of my ribcage.
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 1:22 PM UTC
One hundred years of sodden red sand
millions of innocents slain and condemned
brainwash the brute and send him to shoot
no more of a troop than a toy in your hand.
Pull the wool over why we send them to die
dossiers, mandates now malformed and broken.
Those who were 'chosen' to vote for the people
are payed off, promoted by power drunk creatures.
Our bubble of bliss is the last dying hope
of a stranded psychopath on a bone-laiden raft
tarnished by greed signed misdeeds
floating in streams: the blood of the past.
Hear the voice of the people unite against evil
to condemn your crimson fuel wars on the east
and like doctor to monster, quench the 'Vitai Lambarda'
fuelled by the foolish benefitting the ******
Let the embers scorch, settle, and form a new mantle
where ideologies are transparent and righteous
and the poor of the world aren't corporate fighters
'speak up, speak up and veto the game'.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC
The Brits were twits in '29,
I reckon mandates were not their cup of tea.
I suppose silence speaks louder than a noose,
And that as long as one is civilized, we may agree to disagree.
Enemies share common grounds-
Blood to be spilled, one pair apiece of shoes,
Salaam, shalom, auf wiedersein, tootleoo.
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 3:02 AM UTC
I tasted the air this afternoon
I tasted dry snowflakes and pollution
Another day in this ohio wasteland
Many things come to mind with that word
Wasteland
Is it me that's wasting away?
Or is it my enviornment ?
Woodlands rapidly giving way to back alleys
And second rate apartment complexes
Or is it me
My true inner being
My real self slowly giving way to society's mandates
Like a tree falling lonesome with his sound unheard
And with no lumberjack to yell timber,
Does the deadfall go to remain unnoticed?
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
The Emperor watches
The Emperor judges with eyes of fire and diamond
The Emperor holds a grudge, hard
The Emperor holds nothing but contempt beneath his armor
The Emperor grasps the ankh in one hand and the globe in the other, signifying total ********** over life and land
The Emperor sits alone atop the mountain, adorned in gold and ram skulls
The Emperor takes no counsel
The Emperor speaks only in mandates
The Emperor doesn't need to be told he is divine he just believes
The Emperor passes the sentence and swings the sword
The Emperor guards the door to Heaven
The Emperor believes Heaven is beneath his boots
The Emperor cannot be bothered to check
The Emperor does not ask he takes
The Emperor cannot imagination rejection
The Emperor would destroy anyone who tried
The Emperor feels fear
The Emperor runs his fingers over the cracks in his throne
The Emperor knows that if they break out from his grip they will show him no mercy
The Emperor does not know if he can be broken but is not willing to risk it
The Emperor comes down harder and harder every time
The Emperor shatters under the weight of his arrogance
The Emperor is dragged through the streets
The Emperor dies knowing humility
The Emperor's armor rusts
The Emperor's throne breaks
The Emperor's sword is buried with him
In an unmarked grave, somewhere at the base of the mountain
The Emperor is forgotten, and the empire breathes easier every day
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 1:15 AM UTC
It is one thing to advocate for equality, representation, and unity.
Indeed, each is an inalienable, fundamental right.
But it is a whole new beast to lay waste
to anything that frightens you or that challenges your beliefs,
or that simply does not mirror your very own ideologies.
How heavy the hand of tyranny that now lays across our mouths,
yet how light our opposition.
Though I do acknowledge the delicacy of the issue at hand,
the fragility of the minds of hysterical mobs
who resolve to smashing windows in blind anger,
who ***** out free thought in daft castigation,
or who ban books even, it seems, like those monsters of history
to which they declare themselves to be diametrically opposed-
even in light of that, it is no excuse
to remain subservient to senseless autocrats
and the absurd legislations they bludgeon us with near daily.
To do this – to do nothing - is to lay down and die
without dignity, spineless and shameful,
though it seems that only myself and a handful of others
can recognize this. Indeed, how easy it is to glimpse from the fringes.
I, a man of only twenty-seven years, do not recognize you, America.
I long for the days of comfort (so far removed from them, I am)
when I could safely retreat into the lofty and quiet halls of my mind
to enjoy a self-assuring thought that only I created -
a thought with no real purpose but to occupy me for a time,
to entertain me in my moments of dull apathy.
Now I shudder in a cold and contrived prison of vetted words
and unnegotiated mandates where I am told
to wrap myself in our flag to keep warm, to feel safe,
that this is for my own good.
I do not recognize you, America, for this thing you have become.
Mar 3, 2021
Mar 3, 2021 at 6:08 PM UTC
Climb out of bed
skin glowing in the dim light
every dip and curve of you-
I want to caress with my tongue-
The bones that poke out
above the waist of your jeans
the trail of hair running from your navel
I want to press my lips in worship against your flesh
Your arms are a sin
muscles scream with definition
when your body
strains against mine
Perfectly perky plump posterior
my hands itch to grab it
just a touch
maybe… a bite
Your hair like night-
black and dense-
sensuous silk
curls as my fingers run through
*** is supposed to be a hidden thing
but everything about you screams it.
Who cares about society and its mandates
when you are a god in human form
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 12:29 AM UTC
A pest festers underneath the
gravel. Groups sequestered
From Two separate, yet identical
Lines. One was aborted for similar
Linear tendencies as the other
Was not treasonous, by our
Standards; but four fathers
May have thought otherwise.
Unless the sequestered reenter
This sector, the vacuumed vector
Of two lines will seamlessly fill
Our needs of technology. But, only
To hone drones in a land where
"Shalom" is only welcoming in
Specific zones. Only if the isolated
We're the ones creating mandates.
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 4:59 PM UTC
Fools blather about the glory of the fight
And don’t hear the mothers crying at night.
The wives of those marauders on the roam
Cry because their husbands can’t come home.
The children of these battle-addicted men
Go away, eyes ashine, never to return again.
And still the moneyed few, urge on toward
Yet those godlings never pick up a sword.
Mandates from government palaces abound
But not as many as the dead on the ground.
People are expendable to the military,
There are no pensions in the cemetery.
It’s all about honor they tell the press.
Leaving someone else to clean the mess.
Fight for liberty and freedom, they say.
They really mean die for them every day.
It’s all about profit and always was.
It’s that and no more noble cause
When a nation not being attacked
Falsely claims they’re striking back.
Then goes on to leave thousands dead
So they can wear a crown upon their head.
If you see no words of shame in this
Then you have found what is amiss.
These people are not motivated by grace.
They have the look of evil upon their face.
They already own most of what is here
But they keep a running tally all year.
As too much is not enough they crave,
Even if that puts us all in our grave.
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
18 trillion dollar debt
240 trillion unfunded liabilities debt
1.5 quadrillion derivatives debt
On Nov 16, 2014
The G20 fulfilled the mandates of a new investment program
This new program creates a program
Whereby banks will no longer recognize
Your deposits as money
The deposits are unsecured deposits
Which now belong to the bank
At the moment you deposit your money
Russell Napier declared this day
As the day money died
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC
clearly, I lean to the left
walk with a pre-existing tilt
that in the halo of the House of Republican's
vote this week, might cause me to be
labeled a high health risk,
they also see me as
Alabama senator Mo Brooks labeled
as antithesis to "people who lead good lives"
and therefore strike me down with cancer or something.
He sees a way to waive health-care mandates
and save money, so those in the top 2% of income
can get a tax break.
Wake up people , rapists are running wild with false rhetoric and
you elected and pay them.
I have no choice in Alabama. The right is entrenched and
the education system is wrecked. Corn fed cows
pigs and ***** guarding the sheep
have more of a conscience than any elected official here.
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 9:45 PM UTC
Our days of youth seemed so fluorescent.
The sun mandates we must enjoy the moment.
Love that we all have for life tastes so potent.
Such eye opening beauty hides that inevitable depressant.
A day shall arrive when our dreams wind up abducted
By that horrid beast whose only goal is inner death.
Those sunny days seem more distant with each breath.
My passion for life, and love for others forever corrupted.
I live on the north pole; winter just begun.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 6:56 AM UTC
This time the French have gone too far! This will not stand, you hear!
The makers of “Méthode Champenoise” are suing Miller beer.
For years their spies have regularly infiltrated in the States,
suing all who dare mislabel bubbly made from grapes.
(We cannot call the sparkling wines produced on our own shores
“champagne” according to long, well established, laws.)
Fines and penalties are paid for breaking those mandates
Although to me it seems to be a case of sour grapes.
Today their spy was shopping for a piece of camembert
When he spied a Miller ad for “the champagne of bottled beers”
“Sacre Bleu” the Frenchman cried! “what sacrilege is here?.”
How dare these “Millers” to compare our drink with bottled beer.
They seized the product off the shelf to (ahem) do some testing.
I hear it knocked Jacques on his *** but he claims he’s just resting.
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 8:29 AM UTC
upon becoming a nestling sans nest,
i decided to make a half-baked plan of mandates,
stating how i ought to quest, trough to crest.
egesting the presently unpleasant facets,
i adopted a policy of empirical puerilism.
now a newly groovy pluvi-dendrophile philomath,
a counterbalanced feng shui caricature,
promptly finding rapture bereft of culture.
plundering the dysfunctional,
worshiping the digressive.
anything is adjustable,
everything can be lovable.
finding bravery in regret,
forever simply vincible.
basking in the ebullience,
bringing passion with my presence.
learning to rhapsodize my sentience,
projecting admittedly confusing ontologisms,
concerned with not much else than pleasance.
my means of conception have become my heaven,
and with no evidence of the clandestine,
i simply stepped in.
Jul 6, 2019
Jul 6, 2019 at 4:42 AM UTC