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"maximilian" poems
before existentialism, and nietzsche in mind, philosophy was written or spoken of accepting the socratic rigidity of words, the rigidity of words known through the socratic method of inquiry: the simplest of questions imposed on the meaning of words; e.g. what is virtue? but with existentialism this old method of inquiry, the poised posing bewilderment lost its quality, in that the new method of inquiry was given to stress not a method of questioning but that of ambiguity, even though this new method that simply said the reverse of what is virtue as the preservation of a narrative: "virtue" concedes many variations exampled true, e.g. - this dittoing going against - previously said / as above - became staged against a brick wall - since this method, the existential method of brushing aside inquiry and entering the realm of ambiguity was already present - the pluralism of meaning found in certain words; it isn't a question whether red or blue can be ambiguous, this allocation of noun and quality is all too pervasive - so when an ambiguity is allowed to exercise its stressor posit - the word in question is allocated a verb orientation in its exercise of use and example, further diluted by the quantity and lack of example, and ascribed contorting adjectivity due to the dilution of meaning: with lessened recognition of sought out qualification to sentence an enzymic perfection of: banker and philanthropist, priest and maximilian kolbe, poetry and lack of envy. even though these examples are idealistic, they provide the obvious ambiguity already apparent, hence the double ambiguity of opposites, ideal opposites. in shorthand - if socrates were to come upon reading existentialism - his questions regarding the virtues would be bound to free floating terms in the ditto bubbles of flimsiness of non-inquiry - bewildered by the number of prompts to question, there would be no necessary ambiguity to many other terms of inactivity - such as the previously mentioned red and blue, dog and glue, but too many, it would seem, should a strict belief in categorising virtue as a noun but not a verb be kept - for categorisation of such nature only provides a linear cascade without due action or cared for imitation - ending with the only chance of virtue chanced and seen as an unvirtuous person doing crossword puzzles in silence - and already virtue's opposite is engaged in defending itself and justifying its ills by first forcing many synonyms to cover it in ambiguity, and asserting itself as an adjective within a noun framework blunt: virtue v. unvirtuous will only confiscate siamese phonetic mingling to ease the definition; i guess that's how rhyming was born, the opposite of alphabetical ordering: a, aardvark                              the violet's blue                                                                    ****** a doughnut with you.
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Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
the last line in a difficult poem is always fun
before existentialism, and nietzsche in mind, philosophy was written or spoken of accepting the socratic rigidity of words, the rigidity of words known through the socratic method of inquiry: the simplest of questions imposed on the meaning of words; e.g. what is virtue? but with existentialism this old method of inquiry, the poised posing bewilderment lost its quality, in that the new method of inquiry was given to stress not a method of questioning but that of ambiguity, even though this new method that simply said the reverse of what is virtue as the preservation of a narrative: "virtue" concedes many variations exampled true, e.g. - this dittoing going against - previously said / as above - became staged against a brick wall - since this method, the existential method of brushing aside inquiry and entering the realm of ambiguity was already present - the pluralism of meaning found in certain words; it isn't a question whether red or blue can be ambiguous, this allocation of noun and quality is all too pervasive - so when an ambiguity is allowed to exercise its stressor posit - the word in question is allocated a verb orientation in its exercise of use and example, further diluted by the quantity and lack of example, and ascribed contorting adjectivity due to the dilution of meaning: with lessened recognition of sought out qualification to sentence an enzymic perfection of: banker and philanthropist, priest and maximilian kolbe, poetry and lack of envy. even though these examples are idealistic, they provide the obvious ambiguity already apparent, hence the double ambiguity of opposites, ideal opposites. in shorthand - if socrates were to come upon reading existentialism - his questions regarding the virtues would be bound to free floating terms in the ditto bubbles of flimsiness of non-inquiry - bewildered by the number of prompts to question, there would be no necessary ambiguity to many other terms of inactivity - such as the previously mentioned red and blue, dog and glue, but too many, it would seem, should a strict belief in categorising virtue as a noun but not a verb be kept - for categorisation of such nature only provides a linear cascade without due action or cared for imitation - ending with the only chance of virtue chanced and seen as an unvirtuous person doing crossword puzzles in silence - and already virtue's opposite is engaged in defending itself and justifying its ills by first forcing many synonyms to cover it in ambiguity, and asserting itself as an adjective within a noun framework blunt: virtue v. unvirtuous will only confiscate siamese phonetic mingling to ease the definition; i guess that's how rhyming was born, the opposite of alphabetical ordering: a, aardvark                              the violet's blue                                                                    ****** a doughnut with you.
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58
I've never cared too much for history, found no appreciation for it's multitude of names we commit to memorization there's a certain friend of mine, born in 1989- Sir Maximilian Relaxilian- and he lacked all motivation Since the origin of time, I have traced his family line and their genetic disposition towards supreme relaxation He's the great great great great grandson of the founder of vacation. And this founder's son Clyde, well, he invented the slide Clyde's kid brother Greg helped patent the keg. And Greg's great grandson Snyder sold the very first recliner. So whenever Max was challenged, troubled, bothered, or confused, He'd recite his family tree, and use the very same excuse:    "Hereditary mutations within each generation!"      And so he sat around and slept,      But never cleaned and never swept,      Never ran, never lept,      His promises were never kept. Maximilian never managed once to get up off his **** too tuckered out for bowling, just too lazy to putt; He Never traveled to the sink nor had he once bothered to think, too coward for a shower, found no reason not to stink. And then one super lazy afternoon a quarter after two, Maximilian had a visitor, I promise this is true: A tiger stood outside the door which he was too lazy to lock as if he'd try to find the **** beneath the pile of ***** socks. And then of course, it's no surprise he couldn't hear the kitty knock and once you hear what happened next I guarantee you will be shocked... The tiger tickled him and giggled him until his ticker stopped. So next time you think of staying in, instead of going out- or complain about the effort that it takes to leave the couch, Or refuse to leave the sheets or venture from a cozy pouch... just remember Maximilian Relaxilian, King of Slouch and stay out of bed instead, stretch your legs and use your head then count your blessings, kiss your mother motivate one another.
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Aug 8, 2011
Aug 8, 2011 at 9:08 PM UTC
Maximilian Relaxilian
I've never cared too much for history, found no appreciation for it's multitude of names we commit to memorization there's a certain friend of mine, born in 1989- Sir Maximilian Relaxilian- and he lacked all motivation Since the origin of time, I have traced his family line and their genetic disposition towards supreme relaxation He's the great great great great grandson of the founder of vacation. And this founder's son Clyde, well, he invented the slide Clyde's kid brother Greg helped patent the keg. And Greg's great grandson Snyder sold the very first recliner. So whenever Max was challenged, troubled, bothered, or confused, He'd recite his family tree, and use the very same excuse:    "Hereditary mutations within each generation!"      And so he sat around and slept,      But never cleaned and never swept,      Never ran, never lept,      His promises were never kept. Maximilian never managed once to get up off his **** too tuckered out for bowling, just too lazy to putt; He Never traveled to the sink nor had he once bothered to think, too coward for a shower, found no reason not to stink. And then one super lazy afternoon a quarter after two, Maximilian had a visitor, I promise this is true: A tiger stood outside the door which he was too lazy to lock as if he'd try to find the **** beneath the pile of ***** socks. And then of course, it's no surprise he couldn't hear the kitty knock and once you hear what happened next I guarantee you will be shocked... The tiger tickled him and giggled him until his ticker stopped. So next time you think of staying in, instead of going out- or complain about the effort that it takes to leave the couch, Or refuse to leave the sheets or venture from a cozy pouch... just remember Maximilian Relaxilian, King of Slouch and stay out of bed instead, stretch your legs and use your head then count your blessings, kiss your mother motivate one another.
Continue reading...
41
The knight strides forth to battle In his suit of Maximilian Sword-edges turn aside and bodkins bend Powerless to pierce this fortress of steel The visor veils his visage His voice muffled within Admirers acclaim the armor Valor, virtue, and victory But only she beholds the man within the Maximilian And her arms are his safest stronghold His sweetest solace
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Jul 8, 2022
Jul 8, 2022 at 2:08 AM UTC
Maximilian
Maximilian From the first time your eyes met mine I knew it was the real thing. Your moist cheek on my pounding heart My soul awakened to pure joy. Six years later, you still touch my heart Now just by standing tall, your blonde head Full of intelligence, curiosity, wonder. Maximilian-an amazing boy! The future before you...be strong! You know a lot for your years. Loved ones die, baby brothers born Fathers unhappy, then gone. Illusions of perfection done, We gaze within, eyes connect as one Green on green,we sometimes see pain,yet Remember: here there is only love, my Son. Leslie Ann Benson Copyright ©2008 Leslie Ann Benson
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Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 12:15 AM UTC
Maximilian
Your love hurts me. It is a love for the unconventional story that destroys our clichés and destroys my heart. How can I be heartbroken if I don’t have a heart? Take a knife and take a life. This conceptual artistry is no use if it ignores and degrades another. Trumpets and guitars flank the avenue to your satisfaction. You briefly travelled on mine then stumbled back to yours when another called you there. You’re making me bombard myself with question marks. You look at the character count and think again.
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Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 9:58 AM UTC
Maximilian
When dissonance supplants her wing these hearts will color her sound, today she's become maiden madness, if Maximilian who has her refrain will eat her filet. Whence her allure from the moon how she can make doctrine famous as her eagle that will enchant woods destined with her fortune. As her first day break in November is relic while she does rely with splendid Utopia only found glory in her eye; amid game where she can play under the gun with breakneck speed that really know her best.
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Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 3:27 PM UTC
Dissonance