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"merit" poems
Scarcely a street, too few houses To merit the title; just a way between The one tavern and the one shop That leads nowhere and fails at the top Of the short hill, eaten away By long erosion of the green tide Of grass creeping perpetually nearer This last outpost of time past. So little happens; the black dog Cracking his fleas in the hot sun Is history. Yet the girl who crosses From door to door moves to a scale Beyond the bland day's two dimensions. Stay, then, village, for round you spins On a slow axis a world as vast And meaningful as any posed By great Plato's solitary mind.
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20.3k
The Village
1275 The Spider as an Artist Has never been employed— Though his surpassing Merit Is freely certified By every Broom and Bridget Throughout a Christian Land— Neglected Son of Genius I take thee by the Hand—
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12.8k
The Spider as an Artist
*I wish I didn't have these arms you scratched This broken heart you deeply touched? Imagine the idea of making no **** oath If I wasn't given such a sincere mouth What if I had no arms to hold you tight Or I were an imbecile whose mind thought nothing right What if I was a strengthless ******* who couldn't fight Imagine I had no eyes to see you the day we met If I hadn't taken that road that sealed our fate If I was soul-less, if that makes some sense And lived free of guilt without conscience To walk out on every lady like you did to me Imagine it was sold ,the much I'd pay to be so mean What if I wasn't human to trip and madly fall Or I had no mobile to helplessly answer your call Imagine I was deaf to apologies or created without ears Could I have shed these oceans of tears all these years? Imagine I had no nostrils to master your fragrance Or palms to get adicted to the softness of your ambiance If I had a stiff neck which could never turn Imagine, me without looking back the far I would run Imagine love was already made and we hadn't made it Imagine I could decide who charmed me, not fate's merit Imagine I erasing all the sweet moments and enjoying the sour Wouldn't my pride still be as high as the Babel tower? Just take your time, take away my eyes, feet, heart, soul and mind And see what I'd be, a dark lonesome beast of its kind So as you're walking away and sending me into a trance Imagine walking back and this time having no other chance*
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May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 1:52 PM UTC
AS YOU WALK AWAY
From depths of woe I raise to Thee The voice of lamentation; Lord, turn a gracious ear to me And hear my supplication; If Thou iniquities dost mark, Our secret sins and misdeeds dark, O who shall stand before Thee? To wash away the crimson stain, Grace, grace alone availeth; Our works, alas! are all in vain; In much the best life faileth: No man can glory in Thy sight, All must alike confess Thy might, And live alone by mercy. Therefore my trust is in the Lord, And not in mine own merit; On Him my soul shall rest, His Word Upholds my fainting spirit: His promised mercy is my fort, My comfort, and my sweet support; I wait for it with patience. What though I wait the livelong night, And till the dawn appeareth, My heart still trusteth in His might; It doubteth not nor feareth: Do thus, O ye of Israel’s seed, Ye of the Spirit born indeed; And wait till God appeareth. Though great our sins and sore our woes, His grace much more aboundeth; His helping love no limit knows, Our utmost need it soundeth. Our Shepherd good and true is He, Who will at last His Israel free. From all their sin and sorrow.                            ~ Martin Luther (1483-1546)
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Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
From Depths of Woe I Raise To Thee (by Martin Luther)
*I began as an accident,  but what I know is no accident. I sprouted up in rural America as a white girl-child so what I learned was learned through white girl-child eyes. I grew to become a liberal white queer woman so what I perceive is through liberal white queer woman’s eyes. I thrive as a creator, a dreamer, an artist, so what I experience is experienced as a creator, a dreamer, an artist. Who are you to say what I merit? Who are you? You began. You sprouted up. You grew to become. [I hope] You thrive. Who am I to say what you deserve? Who am I to say? I am me to say. I am not to say for you. You are not to say for me. For you are to say for you. and I for me. And that, dear friends should be no privilege.*
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Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
Entitlement
Blood means nothing Unless it's staining the streets Family has no merit When they don't even See me You want me to be passive? And let them spew racist hate? And all that "gendered" ******** You can't stop me, too late **** the systems that oppress us These prisons are stealing lives Locking up innocent people It's a form of modern genocide We are all human But our brothers are killed by police And our sisters killed for their gender identity But you'd rather look the other way And defend hateful "free speech" I am aware of my privilege And I will not stay silent You turn your eyes away from police brutality But try to preach anti-violence Our country is run by the white and the blue While the red is the blood of its people We need to look up at reality And stop focusing on the steeples Your hopes and your prayers Do not end the violence Instead they teach hate And oppressive silence
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Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 7:15 AM UTC
Everything is Political
Pull the weeds, plant the seeds this is what the garden said choose what stays choose what goes be mindful when you do the silver oaks darken the sun in the mind trim the trunks, so light may you find the bindweed traps the heart clip the vine, free the art the poison oak stings your delicate hand let the goats eat these weeds right off the land the pompous grass clouds the soul in your eyes pluck these weeds before they set and rise the deadweed piles darken your spirit compost the weeds, lighten your merit plant the seeds of love, hope and color water with nourishment, fertilize with wonder and you will warm the heart of another and then, begin again, pull the weeds plant the seeds
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May 26, 2019
May 26, 2019 at 9:03 PM UTC
Pull the weeds, Plant the seeds
*by Charles Wesley (1707-1788)* Come, Thou long expected Jesus Born to set Thy people free; From our fears and sins release us, Let us find our rest in Thee. Israel's strength and consolation, Hope of all the earth Thou art; Dear desire of every nation, Joy of every longing heart. Born Thy people to deliver, Born a child and yet a King, Born to reign in us forever, Now Thy gracious kingdom bring. By Thine own eternal Spirit Rule in all our hearts alone; By Thine all sufficient merit, Raise us to Thy glorious throne. ~ Charles Wesley
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Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 11:03 PM UTC
Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus (hymn)
Rolling with the hunches Safety in a tiger's eye Has become a lucid scent, a possible unction To the staring hour, we remember for denial...? Saviors to break for it... Sated pleas of untoward necessity... Themselves, in the grasp of order and wit... Speed of patience, to a wealth we knew should, politely... The thunder we dote, was a marvel...? Sent to merit for the ultimatum baring Brief as loves boredom can be, the smile is actual Where sincerity is from ear to ear, the want of caring Do you remember me? Like calling a kiss a sweet lightning Come from the cloud, we devote to ourselves, see The question of unity become our only hope, realizing... A real tooth of repose and hindrance, that knows, you Ready to chew nothing but the thought, of callous interim Where we are, the tone of a silent voice to see the rue Of compliment, are we that we are, a solution to anarchy's whim? Sweet deliverance Set to wishes only a courage's mind could blow Forces and prowess to assure an imagination with seemly chance Timid as we are, is a truth the only, when in the house to know?
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Jan 6, 2024
Jan 6, 2024 at 4:36 PM UTC
Loving, Has Another Fool's Dance In Mind?
And how sweet a story it is When you hear Charley Parker tell it, Either on records or at sessions, Or at offical bits in clubs, Shots in the arm for the wallet, Gleefully he Whistled the perfect horn Anyhow, made no difference. Charley Parker, forgive me- Forgive me for not answering your eyes- For not having made in indication Of that which you can devise- Charley Parker, pray for me- Pray for me and everybody In the Nirvanas of your brain Where you hide, indulgent and huge, No longer Charley Parker But the secret unsayable name That carries with it merit Not to be measured from here To up, down, east, or west- -Charley Parker, lay the bane, off me, and every body
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241st Chorus
In the day of Satan, A satan took me for a long walk in the daylight. He was telling me many things with beautiful words, Advised me so wisely, Telling me for not too kind to people. He said, "Why should you love and care about people that never appreciate your kindness? Don't you see that they only take a benefit from you? They don't mind to hurt you whenever they have chance.   You are wasting your time! You are wasting your life!"   In the day of Satan A satan took me for a long walk in the daylight. Crowning my head with all the brilliant ideas about what I should do and I should be as a human, Filling my heart with all world's temptations, Shining my way with his adorable light, And showing the much happiness and glory I could get if I let myself following his path. In the day of Satan A satan took me for a long walk in the daylight. He made me fell in love with all of his beautiful words that I was so ready to take a step to follow all the words and the path he said and offered. But then my inner soul came and whispered, "Are you sure that you're ready for following his path? What is your motive of doing goodness, anyway? To get people's attention or appreciation? Or just for goodness itself? Is your kindness just like the woman's make up that will vanish as soon as you wash your face? Are you sure that you're ready for making him a King in your life?" In the day of Satan A satan took me for a long walk in the daylight to his kingdom to marry me and crown me as his queen. But then I realized that I'm doing kindness actually for the kindness itself I'm doing goodness surely for the goodness itself I'm doing merit definitely for the merit itself Not for people I've helped Not for people I love Not for heaven's sake Not even for the universe If people can't appreciate me, that's their problem, not mine. If people can't accept my unconditional love for them with the proper way, that's their problem, not mine. If people turn to be backstabbers instead of showing their gratitude for what I've done for them, that's their problem, not mine.   In my life, there's always a day of satan. It is the day when satan take me for a long walk and telling me all of the world's temptations with the words that much sweeter than sugar. But this time I've decided to not listen to his words. This time I've decided to not help him in building his throne or making him my King. And this time I've decided to stop my steps with him and go back to what I should be: A person with the genuine love and kindness. Today, in the day of satan I let a satan down and let him reveal his true face: A furious red and ugly guy with horns on his head and a burning trident in his hand, as I've refused to be his queen and ruined his plan to build the throne... May 5, 2018 Kanya Puspokusumo
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May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 2:35 PM UTC
THE DAY OF SATAN
In the day of Satan, A satan took me for a long walk in the daylight. He was telling me many things with beautiful words, Advised me so wisely, Telling me for not too kind to people. He said, "Why should you love and care about people that never appreciate your kindness? Don't you see that they only take a benefit from you? They don't mind to hurt you whenever they have chance.   You are wasting your time! You are wasting your life!"   In the day of Satan A satan took me for a long walk in the daylight. Crowning my head with all the brilliant ideas about what I should do and I should be as a human, Filling my heart with all world's temptations, Shining my way with his adorable light, And showing the much happiness and glory I could get if I let myself following his path. In the day of Satan A satan took me for a long walk in the daylight. He made me fell in love with all of his beautiful words that I was so ready to take a step to follow all the words and the path he said and offered. But then my inner soul came and whispered, "Are you sure that you're ready for following his path? What is your motive of doing goodness, anyway? To get people's attention or appreciation? Or just for goodness itself? Is your kindness just like the woman's make up that will vanish as soon as you wash your face? Are you sure that you're ready for making him a King in your life?" In the day of Satan A satan took me for a long walk in the daylight to his kingdom to marry me and crown me as his queen. But then I realized that I'm doing kindness actually for the kindness itself I'm doing goodness surely for the goodness itself I'm doing merit definitely for the merit itself Not for people I've helped Not for people I love Not for heaven's sake Not even for the universe If people can't appreciate me, that's their problem, not mine. If people can't accept my unconditional love for them with the proper way, that's their problem, not mine. If people turn to be backstabbers instead of showing their gratitude for what I've done for them, that's their problem, not mine.   In my life, there's always a day of satan. It is the day when satan take me for a long walk and telling me all of the world's temptations with the words that much sweeter than sugar. But this time I've decided to not listen to his words. This time I've decided to not help him in building his throne or making him my King. And this time I've decided to stop my steps with him and go back to what I should be: A person with the genuine love and kindness. Today, in the day of satan I let a satan down and let him reveal his true face: A furious red and ugly guy with horns on his head and a burning trident in his hand, as I've refused to be his queen and ruined his plan to build the throne... May 5, 2018 Kanya Puspokusumo
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Scars, like yours, mine, and ours The ones that bled, now you can never discard Scars, time to relive the past It just happened to be, Within in my grasp Scars, a reminder of will Remembering a loss, A void to be filled Scars, I’ll never forget A map of the journey No pain filled regrets Scars, a feeling contrived A time in my past   Grateful; alive Our creator, a leader of men Scars are a reminder   That symbolizes the dead Scars, one last debate How am I supposed to feel When we can’t relate? I don’t want to hear it I don’t want to know Don’t keep me waiting With no dial tone Scars, like yours, mine, and ours The ones that bled, now you can never discard It’s a badge of honor I survived death! A merit of completion Having been put to the test Got me in a fight for land Where men now lay dead Bloodied and red These scars on my body The voice in my head Telling me you are the enemy No longer my friend Scars, like yours, mine, and ours The ones that bled now you can never discard Scars, yours, mine, and ours Scars on your leg, on your chest, on your head Scars, when you decided on ink Instead of lead Taking a bullet, they pronounced you as dead. Scars
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May 8, 2019
May 8, 2019 at 7:43 AM UTC
Scars
Even the longest journey Begins with a single step Tendulkar has waited patiently to be a part of winning the world cup The master has some incredible records to his credit No cricketer in the modern era can compare with him for merit Yesterday nearly 120o million Indian glued to the television sets Irrespective Of caste, colour, creed, religion or sects Dhoni and Co rewrote history after twenty eight years From the faces of Indian cricketers rolled joyous tears Cricket brought All the cricketing countries Unbelievably together The western Coach Gary Kirsten and Co were responsible For the Eastern thriller The great sport became the emotional healer and the gap filler And the greatest ever crowd puller Tendulkar has carried the Nation’s burden for nearly twenty four years So His team mates carried him on their broad shoulders Even Tendulkar could not help shedding his emotional tears It was really a great Moment for the entire nation to celebratewith cheers
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Apr 3, 2011
Apr 3, 2011 at 7:47 AM UTC
THE A WESTERN COACH AND THE EASTERN THRILLER
As one chosen by God, certain attributes are demonstrated with loving regularity; despite one’s beliefs, showing kindness requires a daring of spiritual temerity. For The Lord expects His children to give Love towards people without expectations; know that being tenderhearted, helps one to naturally extend actions of compassion. Don’t think lightly, about the richness of kindness, it may one lead to repentance; its warm embrace softens the heart, while Salvation overrides Death’s life sentence. The merit of kindness can’t be overstated; being accepting, forgiving without judgment means not rigidly imposing beliefs on others. As His children, one should make investments in the individualized development of others. With the “Fruit of The Holy Spirit”, growth and maturation can be properly accelerated when applying by the principle of God’s oath to “humbly walk in Love” (as He requires). Kindness is patient, when paired with respect, justice, long-suffering and unconditional Love; the value of kindness, no one should neglect. . . . Author notes Inspired by: Eph 4:32; Gal 5:22-23; Heb 6:10; Rom 2:4; Luke 6:35; Col 3:12; Prov 3:3; Mica 6:8 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
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May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 4:12 PM UTC
Poem: The Value of Kindness
"Nita, what do you  NEED ?" I HATE it when someone asks me that question! "Nita, What do you need?" NEED: “require”… “want”… “necessitate” "What do you need right now. You don't have to do this in isolation." "What do you need right now? I am not afraid of the little girl." "What do you need right now? If you need something I am here to listen." "If you don't think you are safe, then what do you need from me or others or yourself?" Why does it matter what I "NEED"? Why do you ask me when you are not going to be able to grant that/those "NEED(S)"? Is my Survivor Fairy Godmother asking you for a list of Nita's NEEDS so she can come wave her magic wand, sing, bippity, boppity, boo...and I'll become an unf@#ked kid? Well, why didn't you say so! Here's my list for the Godmother: I NEED to be 'unf@#ked'. I NEED the voices in my head to stop. I NEEDED my evil father not to touch me. I NEED the flashbacks to stop. I NEED my body not to hurt. I NEED the fear to stop. I NEED for you to be here for me NOW like you WERE then. I NEEDED to be loved by my parents. I NEED someone to teach me what love really is. I NEED someone to show me that trust really does exist in this world. I NEED you to help me at night when I am suicidal and dissociative. I NEED you to be available after 10pm, when the hell started, you know, like you used to be...back when you actually cared about what I NEEDED. I NEED the little girl to stop whining and crying. I NEED to not have physical symptoms that relate to then. I NEED the nightmares to stop. I NEED the constant headaches to stop. I NEED my crohn’s to not be in a constant flare up. I NEED to stop having recurrent UTIs. I NEED the ****** Angry Girl to stop hurting me. I NEED to sleep. I NEED to want to live before I die. I NEED you to hear me. What? There is NO Survivor Fairy Godmother? NO magic wand? I'm shocked! NOT! I'm guessing that's why she never showed up then, either...I prefer to think that rather than her never answering my cries of: Please make him stop hurting me! I NEED you to STOP asking me what I NEED  Since we both know that those NEEDS will NEVER be my reality, and that it is actually more painful to ask for what you NEED and not get that need met, then it is to keep your NEEDS to yourself. At least that's true for me. So...unless you have a survivor registry where I can resister for the aforementioned NEEDS, or, perhaps a survivor merit system where I can earn credits to 'buy' the above NEEDS (I'm not afraid of hard work)...then STOP ASKING ME WHAT I NEED! Because we both know it does not matter what I NEED! Can't undo what's already been done. We both know that. What Nita "NEEDS" right now is a bottle of ***** and some cranberry juice…THAT is a NEED I can meet right now! A TOAST! Here's to: UNMET NEEDS
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Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
Unmet Needs
"Nita, what do you  NEED ?" I HATE it when someone asks me that question! "Nita, What do you need?" NEED: “require”… “want”… “necessitate” "What do you need right now. You don't have to do this in isolation." "What do you need right now? I am not afraid of the little girl." "What do you need right now? If you need something I am here to listen." "If you don't think you are safe, then what do you need from me or others or yourself?" Why does it matter what I "NEED"? Why do you ask me when you are not going to be able to grant that/those "NEED(S)"? Is my Survivor Fairy Godmother asking you for a list of Nita's NEEDS so she can come wave her magic wand, sing, bippity, boppity, boo...and I'll become an unf@#ked kid? Well, why didn't you say so! Here's my list for the Godmother: I NEED to be 'unf@#ked'. I NEED the voices in my head to stop. I NEEDED my evil father not to touch me. I NEED the flashbacks to stop. I NEED my body not to hurt. I NEED the fear to stop. I NEED for you to be here for me NOW like you WERE then. I NEEDED to be loved by my parents. I NEED someone to teach me what love really is. I NEED someone to show me that trust really does exist in this world. I NEED you to help me at night when I am suicidal and dissociative. I NEED you to be available after 10pm, when the hell started, you know, like you used to be...back when you actually cared about what I NEEDED. I NEED the little girl to stop whining and crying. I NEED to not have physical symptoms that relate to then. I NEED the nightmares to stop. I NEED the constant headaches to stop. I NEED my crohn’s to not be in a constant flare up. I NEED to stop having recurrent UTIs. I NEED the ****** Angry Girl to stop hurting me. I NEED to sleep. I NEED to want to live before I die. I NEED you to hear me. What? There is NO Survivor Fairy Godmother? NO magic wand? I'm shocked! NOT! I'm guessing that's why she never showed up then, either...I prefer to think that rather than her never answering my cries of: Please make him stop hurting me! I NEED you to STOP asking me what I NEED  Since we both know that those NEEDS will NEVER be my reality, and that it is actually more painful to ask for what you NEED and not get that need met, then it is to keep your NEEDS to yourself. At least that's true for me. So...unless you have a survivor registry where I can resister for the aforementioned NEEDS, or, perhaps a survivor merit system where I can earn credits to 'buy' the above NEEDS (I'm not afraid of hard work)...then STOP ASKING ME WHAT I NEED! Because we both know it does not matter what I NEED! Can't undo what's already been done. We both know that. What Nita "NEEDS" right now is a bottle of ***** and some cranberry juice…THAT is a NEED I can meet right now! A TOAST! Here's to: UNMET NEEDS
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I don’t understand ****** for power I don’t understand Complaint without solution I don’t understand Ego without accomplishment I don’t understand Action without reason I don’t understand Judgment without experience I don’t understand Advancement without merit I don’t understand Worship without thought I don’t understand Belief without proof I don’t understand Love without kindness I don’t understand Want without need I don’t understand Talk without meaning I don’t understand Celebrity without talent I don’t understand A white lie I don’t understand Falsehood without challenge I don’t understand Might over right I don’t understand Beauty without soul I don’t understand Law from faith I don’t understand Victory at all costs I don’t understand An end by any means I don't understand Commerce over spirituality I don't understand Greed over giving I don’t understand Hurting a child I don’t understand Reward for failure I don’t understand Too big to fail I don’t understand The Virtue of Selfishness I don’t understand Too powerful to question I don’t understand Arrogance from vicarious pleasure I don’t understand Ambition without empathy I don’t understand The sale of loyalty I don’t understand Money over honor I don't understand Ignorance over education I don't understand Cheating I don’t understand Hate I don't understand Why the good die young I don't understand Do you?
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Mar 16, 2012
Mar 16, 2012 at 11:43 PM UTC
I Don't Understand
It must be said Once again No matter how you tire Of sin And hopelessness Where God lives Is love Understanding Selflessness and wisdom The Mahatma Courage Achievement Humility Without rank Without ambition Morality Merit Human Determination Dignity Sacrifice Pain Patience Kindness Principle Standards Where oppression exists There is no God With power Comes differences Rank Superiority Predominance Hierarchy Religion Patriotism Nationalism Jingoism Legacy Birthright Force Class Pride Privilege Hypocrisy Corruption Humiliation Indifference Cruelty Violence War All faiths Should be considered equal Before a God of all faiths Acceptance On Earth You cannot **** God By killing his believer You cannot **** a believer And be loved by God No man or woman Is subservient To another No man or woman Is held above Any other All kneel before the maker Worship No man No victory No wealth No fleeting beauty Honor Charity Empathy Tolerance Diversity Culture Art Justice Freedom Creativity Fairness Deference Humanity Where do you sit? At the head of the table Or at the foot? What do you wish for? Riches? To be respected? To be feared? To be loved? What do they say about you? Do you know? Do you care? Are they fools To be exploited? Is life only for your gain? Can you be trusted? Can they count on you? Or do you count on them For your achievement? For your glory? For your power? For your face to be carved in stone Above men And God? Is that you? Is that what you want?
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Mar 8, 2012
Mar 8, 2012 at 1:28 PM UTC
A Mahatma Life
The kite gets  high, stays aloft- quite some time displaying enviable dexterity, for fun do spectacular  somersaults as much times as it could, climbs up in air with a loud swoosh then look! how the wind gets ***** with her, if she has something of  a skirt, it goes up, up to an indecent height, she doesn't have that balance a player at such heights should have kept always. Its absurd, all these acrobatics silly kite displays before the world at high altitudes with a unholy interest to show herself more accomplished than what she really is, could you pardon that frivolity, because she has many more colors than clouds. He admits abashedly that he too was once in love with her frivolous attractiveness, but he never could understand a kite; in spite of the lightness, that makes it easier to travel heights, has kite a significance? After all what is a kite? her merit? a strange arrangement that defies common sense, all it can do is aimless flying. Isn't it a charge serious enough? even a dry leaf, or a falling feather can do these acrobatics for a while. What is the meaning of a kite, kindly someone notify , if it has any, meaningless flying is not for anything of substance, what kind of play is it,   if it is perceived as one, by any one why the folly of someone take us for a ride all these years, without a second thought, he wonders who might have promoted it,  had some ulterior motive, some point to prove; wind, mightiest of forces is made to look weak in everyday life . He would suspect, in the bargain many generations too spent their time in this vein pursuit without any thought. Any kite display a greed to go up and stay there, till the time it is possible to float don't want to be back, when wind is on her side unless force is applied, what does it signify? Kite has a hunger to touch wonder with its fingers he knows, and he can't but appreciate it and when the occasion arises she fly up to the cloud, play with him as if he is her secret lover, that hurts could such a liaisons are to be  be tolerated she knows how a cloud tastes at different times Yes, sky certainly intoxicates her, she want to move closer, doesn't it spell danger?
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Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC
The kite conundrum
The kite gets  high, stays aloft- quite some time displaying enviable dexterity, for fun do spectacular  somersaults as much times as it could, climbs up in air with a loud swoosh then look! how the wind gets ***** with her, if she has something of  a skirt, it goes up, up to an indecent height, she doesn't have that balance a player at such heights should have kept always. Its absurd, all these acrobatics silly kite displays before the world at high altitudes with a unholy interest to show herself more accomplished than what she really is, could you pardon that frivolity, because she has many more colors than clouds. He admits abashedly that he too was once in love with her frivolous attractiveness, but he never could understand a kite; in spite of the lightness, that makes it easier to travel heights, has kite a significance? After all what is a kite? her merit? a strange arrangement that defies common sense, all it can do is aimless flying. Isn't it a charge serious enough? even a dry leaf, or a falling feather can do these acrobatics for a while. What is the meaning of a kite, kindly someone notify , if it has any, meaningless flying is not for anything of substance, what kind of play is it,   if it is perceived as one, by any one why the folly of someone take us for a ride all these years, without a second thought, he wonders who might have promoted it,  had some ulterior motive, some point to prove; wind, mightiest of forces is made to look weak in everyday life . He would suspect, in the bargain many generations too spent their time in this vein pursuit without any thought. Any kite display a greed to go up and stay there, till the time it is possible to float don't want to be back, when wind is on her side unless force is applied, what does it signify? Kite has a hunger to touch wonder with its fingers he knows, and he can't but appreciate it and when the occasion arises she fly up to the cloud, play with him as if he is her secret lover, that hurts could such a liaisons are to be  be tolerated she knows how a cloud tastes at different times Yes, sky certainly intoxicates her, she want to move closer, doesn't it spell danger?
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Certain men may be pigs, and maybe some feminists take it a bit far, but when it comes to sexism, I certainly don't think it's restricted to *** and when it comes to racism: there's no such thing as race. Far too many **** Sapiens are just ******* vapid and odious when it comes to their personality, in general. It doesn't matter if the narrative is One's *** or religion, politics, perceived gender, art, science, the weather or any other elite form of edified philosophy. I want to believe that everyone has merit- that they cannot be judged by any external entity that, because it is external, lacks the whole context. Still, some people spoil my attitude towards people a bit. Humans are my favorite counter-example; yet, I love us. Somehow. Jaded though I may well be, I seek foremost to be kind, but that makes you a doormat. One seems to have two choices: be a push-over, or an ******* I seek the middle path: empathic and kind, but also self-interested. ..something of a "passive-assertive" person. Returning to the point: I'm just an equalist, I guess. Egalitarian. Individualist. Sexism? Racism? Nationalism? Why the **** is it even an issue? Haven't we grown up at all in the last 10,000 years? If someone's skin color, chromosomal composition, language, wealth, ethnicity, or where on Earth they happened to be born is that big of an issue to you psychologically and socially, there are much bigger problems going unchecked boiling over within you. The abandoned kettle whistles. Good luck. Earnestly. We're all counting on you. People are people. Worry about yourself and what and who you love.
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Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
A Rant named 'Tolerance'
Certain men may be pigs, and maybe some feminists take it a bit far, but when it comes to sexism, I certainly don't think it's restricted to *** and when it comes to racism: there's no such thing as race. Far too many **** Sapiens are just ******* vapid and odious when it comes to their personality, in general. It doesn't matter if the narrative is One's *** or religion, politics, perceived gender, art, science, the weather or any other elite form of edified philosophy. I want to believe that everyone has merit- that they cannot be judged by any external entity that, because it is external, lacks the whole context. Still, some people spoil my attitude towards people a bit. Humans are my favorite counter-example; yet, I love us. Somehow. Jaded though I may well be, I seek foremost to be kind, but that makes you a doormat. One seems to have two choices: be a push-over, or an ******* I seek the middle path: empathic and kind, but also self-interested. ..something of a "passive-assertive" person. Returning to the point: I'm just an equalist, I guess. Egalitarian. Individualist. Sexism? Racism? Nationalism? Why the **** is it even an issue? Haven't we grown up at all in the last 10,000 years? If someone's skin color, chromosomal composition, language, wealth, ethnicity, or where on Earth they happened to be born is that big of an issue to you psychologically and socially, there are much bigger problems going unchecked boiling over within you. The abandoned kettle whistles. Good luck. Earnestly. We're all counting on you. People are people. Worry about yourself and what and who you love.
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Away! away! Tempt me no more, insidious Love: Thy soothing sway Long did my youthful ***** prove: At length thy treason is discern’d, At length some dear-bought caution earn’d: Away! nor hope my riper age to move. I know, I see Her merit. Needs it now be shown, Alas! to me? How often, to myself unknown, The graceful, gentle, virtuous maid Have I admired! How often said— What joy to call a heart like hers one’s own! But, flattering god, O squanderer of content and ease In thy abode Will care’s rude lesson learn to please? O say, deceiver, hast thou won Proud Fortune to attend thy throne, Or placed thy friends above her stern decrees?
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4k
The Complaint
Among pelagian travelers, Lost on their lewd conceited way To Massachusetts, Michigan, Miami or L.A., An airborne instrument I sit, Predestined nightly to fulfill Columbia-Giesen-Management's Unfathomable will, By whose election justified, I bring my gospel of the Muse To fundamentalists, to nuns, to Gentiles and to Jews, And daily, seven days a week, Before a local sense has jelled, From talking-site to talking-site Am jet-or-prop-propelled. Though warm my welcome everywhere, I shift so frequently, so fast, I cannot now say where I was The evening before last, Unless some singular event Should intervene to save the place, A truly asinine remark, A soul-bewitching face, Or blessed encounter, full of joy, Unscheduled on the Giesen Plan, With, here, an addict of Tolkien, There, a Charles Williams fan. Since Merit but a dunghill is, I mount the rostrum unafraid: Indeed, 'twere damnable to ask If I am overpaid. Spirit is willing to repeat Without a qualm the same old talk, But Flesh is homesick for our snug Apartment in New York. A sulky fifty-six, he finds A change of mealtime utter hell, Grown far too crotchety to like A luxury hotel. The Bible is a goodly book I always can peruse with zest, But really cannot say the same For Hilton's Be My Guest. Nor bear with equanimity The radio in students' cars, Muzak at breakfast, or--dear God!-- Girl-organists in bars. Then, worst of all, the anxious thought, Each time my plane begins to sink And the No Smoking sign comes on: What will there be to drink? Is this ma milieu where I must How grahamgreeneish! How infra dig! ****** from the bottle in my bag An analeptic swig? Another morning comes: I see, Dwindling below me on the plane, The roofs of one more audience I shall not see again. God bless the lot of them, although I don't remember which was which: God bless the U.S.A., so large, So friendly, and so rich.
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4k
On the Circuit
Among pelagian travelers, Lost on their lewd conceited way To Massachusetts, Michigan, Miami or L.A., An airborne instrument I sit, Predestined nightly to fulfill Columbia-Giesen-Management's Unfathomable will, By whose election justified, I bring my gospel of the Muse To fundamentalists, to nuns, to Gentiles and to Jews, And daily, seven days a week, Before a local sense has jelled, From talking-site to talking-site Am jet-or-prop-propelled. Though warm my welcome everywhere, I shift so frequently, so fast, I cannot now say where I was The evening before last, Unless some singular event Should intervene to save the place, A truly asinine remark, A soul-bewitching face, Or blessed encounter, full of joy, Unscheduled on the Giesen Plan, With, here, an addict of Tolkien, There, a Charles Williams fan. Since Merit but a dunghill is, I mount the rostrum unafraid: Indeed, 'twere damnable to ask If I am overpaid. Spirit is willing to repeat Without a qualm the same old talk, But Flesh is homesick for our snug Apartment in New York. A sulky fifty-six, he finds A change of mealtime utter hell, Grown far too crotchety to like A luxury hotel. The Bible is a goodly book I always can peruse with zest, But really cannot say the same For Hilton's Be My Guest. Nor bear with equanimity The radio in students' cars, Muzak at breakfast, or--dear God!-- Girl-organists in bars. Then, worst of all, the anxious thought, Each time my plane begins to sink And the No Smoking sign comes on: What will there be to drink? Is this ma milieu where I must How grahamgreeneish! How infra dig! ****** from the bottle in my bag An analeptic swig? Another morning comes: I see, Dwindling below me on the plane, The roofs of one more audience I shall not see again. God bless the lot of them, although I don't remember which was which: God bless the U.S.A., so large, So friendly, and so rich.
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*What I thought was love Was really just head knowledge Love is way deeper!* • *Such grace, undeserved! Too obscure for mere mortals God's agape LOVE!* • *Unconditional! Loving me beyond my will- And without merit!* • *Loving me dearly, He instilled His love in me Letting me love Him...* © Raphael Uzor
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Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 7:21 AM UTC
Wondrous Love (Haikus)
He was coming out hurriedly While she was about to come in They met at the glass door he and she Accidentally And both froze momentarily And she startled and both stared Unattered a second and eventually he Said I'm sorry He was taken in by her beauty And so he struggled for his wallet Gave his business card she looked she Said oh really? And one night when she was lonely Remembered him she took out his card A cellphone number she dialled suddenly Accidentally Since then they met occasionally Not at her home and not at his office At the park at cafes for she said she's Always busy Too occupied in a huge company to see Unawares she's in a different division Those whom he knew acted anxiously So strangely One day he asked will you marry me Two fine kids later by merit moved his Office next to the boss next to her he Wants to be Accidentally
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Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 12:41 PM UTC
Accidentally
I let my guard down you kept yours up slipping my questions like Ali bob-n'-weaves through a flurry' untouchable Beautiful like a butterfly, but still stings like a bee shes got a degree in kicking *** and enough sass to harass me painfully, playfully. Shes a sweet pea, who listens to indie drinks peppermint greet tea a spirit so free its something to merit you would never believe it In the cage, shes a killer shes no wannabe petite bourgeoisie shell be on a killing spree crush you like a flea, under her knee that's a guarantee. Shes the queen bee ink to show it i'm not a poet 'but a potent moment of expression that's my confession and so I question; motionless, face buried in the canvas, why did I let my guard down.
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Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 12:41 PM UTC
Loving a Fighter
Bodhidharma, the first Zen patriarch, told Emperor Wu that merit meant nothing; but great emptiness revealed by sitting facing a wall had great merit. Wu was perplexed. Patriarch number two, Hui-k’o, faced a granite wall in a forest for seven years; it became his beloved. Seng-Tsan, the third Zen patriarch wrote poems and his legendary Hsinhsinming verse transcended all the unnecessary duality in the mind’s mire. Tao-Hsin, patriarch number four, said don’t’ stare at a wall, just do the laundry and watch the clear water turn brown then pour it onto the vegetables in the garden when you’re done. Patriarch five, Hung-Jen meditated from age six staring at the horizon and said if you find the line between sky and land and sea you slip into infinity with no sky, land and sea just one place for the mind to finally rest. Hui-Neng came next; no wall no laundry water no heavenly horizon just fascinating monkey mind sometimes full, sometimes empty running whichever way, whenever, and that was all good. The 300-year Tang dynasty had three wild man patriarchs- Ma-Tzu shouted constantly; Pai-Ching did laundry, and Huang-Po told everyone they were already enlightened and should not bother with Zen at all. Lin-Chi was the Jesus of Zen who loved everybody everyday. He taught the heart’s clear natural action, compassion, not walls and laundry and trying not to think. His love was wiser than his mind. The patriarchs of zen taught more than a thousand years before I grew up an American idiot in a materialistic world populated by narcissistic borderline freaks thumbing smartphones in leather car seats never doing laundry afraid to face the walls built of brick made mortared tight together with the fear of their own compassionlessness.
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Jun 26, 2012
Jun 26, 2012 at 1:46 AM UTC
PATRIARCHS
Bodhidharma, the first Zen patriarch, told Emperor Wu that merit meant nothing; but great emptiness revealed by sitting facing a wall had great merit. Wu was perplexed. Patriarch number two, Hui-k’o, faced a granite wall in a forest for seven years; it became his beloved. Seng-Tsan, the third Zen patriarch wrote poems and his legendary Hsinhsinming verse transcended all the unnecessary duality in the mind’s mire. Tao-Hsin, patriarch number four, said don’t’ stare at a wall, just do the laundry and watch the clear water turn brown then pour it onto the vegetables in the garden when you’re done. Patriarch five, Hung-Jen meditated from age six staring at the horizon and said if you find the line between sky and land and sea you slip into infinity with no sky, land and sea just one place for the mind to finally rest. Hui-Neng came next; no wall no laundry water no heavenly horizon just fascinating monkey mind sometimes full, sometimes empty running whichever way, whenever, and that was all good. The 300-year Tang dynasty had three wild man patriarchs- Ma-Tzu shouted constantly; Pai-Ching did laundry, and Huang-Po told everyone they were already enlightened and should not bother with Zen at all. Lin-Chi was the Jesus of Zen who loved everybody everyday. He taught the heart’s clear natural action, compassion, not walls and laundry and trying not to think. His love was wiser than his mind. The patriarchs of zen taught more than a thousand years before I grew up an American idiot in a materialistic world populated by narcissistic borderline freaks thumbing smartphones in leather car seats never doing laundry afraid to face the walls built of brick made mortared tight together with the fear of their own compassionlessness.
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