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"mindsets" poems
Dancing freely between shades-of-gray thoughts, they are not me. I am the stage on which they act their role. Laugh at their voice, serene bliss-filled peace lay amid mindsets. Childish antics play their someday-one day game all in vain, and would rather suffer than lose themselves. *Cavatina: The Italian form consists of a ten (10) syllable non rhyming line alternating with a four (4) syllable rhyming line, at least three (3) times and completed with a ten syllable line couplet. I had some help with this one, I borrowed some phrases from E. Tolle*
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Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 6:48 PM UTC
Dancing Freely (a Cavatina)
the urban ecosystem breeds the urban beast; the two-legged feral brute they board their clockwork motorcages the young ones in predatious packs the old, too weathered to care animal autonomy born from sweatshop routines i imagine myself as a metropolitan jane goodall observing and assimilating taking note of the cacophony of hoots and and hollers the city-born mating calls the high-topped courtship dances ******* civility born from enslaved mindsets a young, dark-skinned boy let's rhyme flow freeformed to the rhythm of a young girls dancing feet stomps and claps excite the celebration of abandoned social etiquette and of my foreign presence i resemble some exotic missing link a mix of this, that and the other my skin, a rare quilt and this draws more attention than a gold-dusted african queen i place myself in the back peering through the windows of this transit jungle feeling my heart skip beats boom...boom...shhhh... i must've left my rhythm in my other heritage because i can't catch the ancient flow but my neck leads my head in bobs my brain rattles with old soul memories and i see these young folks on the train held back by centuries of black struggle but forever rejoicing in african pulse forever embodying our ancestoral pride and i think, how peculiar on the outside looking in like a fishbowl exiled from my own brown-skinned tribe with my oppression fitted like a glove my blackness a mere disguise my blackness camouflage my blackness not quite black enough
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Feb 1, 2012
Feb 1, 2012 at 4:45 PM UTC
Transit Jungle
the urban ecosystem breeds the urban beast; the two-legged feral brute they board their clockwork motorcages the young ones in predatious packs the old, too weathered to care animal autonomy born from sweatshop routines i imagine myself as a metropolitan jane goodall observing and assimilating taking note of the cacophony of hoots and and hollers the city-born mating calls the high-topped courtship dances ******* civility born from enslaved mindsets a young, dark-skinned boy let's rhyme flow freeformed to the rhythm of a young girls dancing feet stomps and claps excite the celebration of abandoned social etiquette and of my foreign presence i resemble some exotic missing link a mix of this, that and the other my skin, a rare quilt and this draws more attention than a gold-dusted african queen i place myself in the back peering through the windows of this transit jungle feeling my heart skip beats boom...boom...shhhh... i must've left my rhythm in my other heritage because i can't catch the ancient flow but my neck leads my head in bobs my brain rattles with old soul memories and i see these young folks on the train held back by centuries of black struggle but forever rejoicing in african pulse forever embodying our ancestoral pride and i think, how peculiar on the outside looking in like a fishbowl exiled from my own brown-skinned tribe with my oppression fitted like a glove my blackness a mere disguise my blackness camouflage my blackness not quite black enough
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49
The darkness upon your face is beautiful while the world is vast; winding rivers take over the nightfall, I think about your face during the night, when the moon and owls sing; while I am the moon Mountain peaks are covered with snow; the world turns endlessly yet I am still a Gemini by birth; my thoughts are forever changing, A semi-colon representing my thought process, forever endless and a constant stream, like rivers at the nightfall, of dissimilar mindsets.
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May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 11:19 AM UTC
Gem; en; i
I'm barefoot in 46 degrees and I must remember that my perception of things must not encapsulate how I truly perceive. Soldered commentary is bleak but is all I've left, all my years have given me and my years have been few. To be constantly bombarded with the question, "what is it that I really want?" is fervently exhausting and consistently hypocritical and I'm a hack. The conclusion is always that I'm a hack without a win to present or a failure to fall back upon. As a hack, I've left myself with very few plans to alter or hungry mindsets to feed. After glistening the only thing that remains is to burn out and the thought of extinguishing so prematurely provokes a physical falter and frequent respiratory failure. Ask your brother if he lingers at times. Ask your sister if sometimes, she means what she says and she should always say no. Ask your friends why you should be anyone's friend and whether or not the chance to swing into hyperbolic criticism ever affects how they make their choices, hoof their steps. Their answer should always be no and their input should always be invaluable. Ask yourself if brain power should always be set to alter mind power and ask yourself is alteration is ever even possible. The answer should always be no. The conclusion to draw should always be his. The choices you make, always expert and ground out by consistent respiratory failure. Ask yourself if you'll always be an animal and when will that stop. Ask yourself if time will determine whether or not this "thing" is worth doing or this "thing" is worth composing. Ask yourself why you're not the young girl who sings soul on the street, whose tremble sets off car alarms and inner requisitioning. The answer will never be the same.
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Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 5:08 AM UTC
Moving Muscles
I'm barefoot in 46 degrees and I must remember that my perception of things must not encapsulate how I truly perceive. Soldered commentary is bleak but is all I've left, all my years have given me and my years have been few. To be constantly bombarded with the question, "what is it that I really want?" is fervently exhausting and consistently hypocritical and I'm a hack. The conclusion is always that I'm a hack without a win to present or a failure to fall back upon. As a hack, I've left myself with very few plans to alter or hungry mindsets to feed. After glistening the only thing that remains is to burn out and the thought of extinguishing so prematurely provokes a physical falter and frequent respiratory failure. Ask your brother if he lingers at times. Ask your sister if sometimes, she means what she says and she should always say no. Ask your friends why you should be anyone's friend and whether or not the chance to swing into hyperbolic criticism ever affects how they make their choices, hoof their steps. Their answer should always be no and their input should always be invaluable. Ask yourself if brain power should always be set to alter mind power and ask yourself is alteration is ever even possible. The answer should always be no. The conclusion to draw should always be his. The choices you make, always expert and ground out by consistent respiratory failure. Ask yourself if you'll always be an animal and when will that stop. Ask yourself if time will determine whether or not this "thing" is worth doing or this "thing" is worth composing. Ask yourself why you're not the young girl who sings soul on the street, whose tremble sets off car alarms and inner requisitioning. The answer will never be the same.
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7
We were born into a world of shallow minds and deep disturbances of young millennials mimicking mindless mimes because we were told to stay in line but be yourself but follow me but think "originality." A generation full of copycatting individuals with monotone mindsets mulling over social ladders and trends dictated by invisible monarchs of industry inviting and spoon feeding insecurities masked as improvements. A generation spending more time pretending not to care than on passions stifled by our peer pressuring playmates who are all prescribed Vyvanse, Adderall, Ritalin for their incurable imaginations deemed "learning disabilities." A generation of temporary friendships because no one can connect with each other but we can connect to the internet and chat with strangers and share thoughts, photos, and secrets to a virtual audience that loses interest in an entanglement of wires forming a noose around our sincerity.
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Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC
Still Howling
When I look into the moon I see the only dependent part of me that still exists. Its as if the silence in her vocal cords spoke words of solitude. I gave her the only bio mechanical part of me that mattered. The gears in my chest keep turning like clock work. I count seconds into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into days. I keep thinking time is standing still while im still standing still. I'm waiting, waiting on patience and as unjustified as it sounds I'm impatient. Dreams are just your natural thoughts heavily sedated, a sub-conscious reality based off the feelings we cant display them. I don't consider myself a writer, I see the constant flow of words and as a kid it left me inspired. I'm more of the sub concious reality type. I drink coffee and outside of that I really don't have a life. For me writing is self exspression without being judged by others. I opinionate my feelings and organize them in ink. The papper is my empty canvas, my thoughts are my judgment, and the pen is the deliverer. Sometimes writing is the only thing that can stitch my wounds, like the words curved inside my brain penetrating like the needlesof a tattoo. I wonder what will become me, in what paradox will I redeem the sum of me? I just hope this bio mechanical heart ticks away. I hope people continue to be people with different mindsets and open steeples. I want love to be found and dreams to be created. Kalvin Moon
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Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 2:20 AM UTC
Rambling.
Sitting at a crossroad with decisions to be made, that conflicted feeling is one of the worst mindsets. A debate with yourself is the most pointless thing on earth. No matter how vast the victory, the defeat is also resting on your shoulders. So then, the question still stands. Which path will you travel? What turn do you take? Who is it that you really are, because if you don’t know, who will?
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Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 3:36 AM UTC
Stuck at a crossroad
I rolled in Michigan strapped to a kayak in the namesake lake vision obscured by freshwater I plunged under the blue surface out of my element panicking as a fish out of water- in water I reached for the release and missed but grasped swelling panic Dread thoughts of the end... my family… last words… Still submerged- somehow a semblance of sensibility surfaced, unlike myself frightening fantasies flitted- shot like skeets in the sky and peace prevailed. I stretched through the moist blindness, found the release- my sweet release. Gasp air. Freedom from death's clutches I see my unpreparedness for death, ability to survive Fifteen seconds to find my inner calm, my inner panicked strength, the depth of my composure fifteen seconds for reevaluation Fifteen seconds submarine style to find who I really was and am Arguments are made that safety and tranquility are the best mindsets for education But, safety lacks motivation, tranquility lacks demand, Life's trials breed introspection.
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Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 4:51 PM UTC
Rolling in Michigan
As dreadful as an eruption Deceased like winter Chest tightening And fists clenching As roses ***** right in the throat Used razor blade on one hand And tabs of acid on the other A vast and lonesome world Population: one-half Two mindsets coming in unison Psychedelic tendencies, suicidal thoughts Insanity occupying a dystopic atmosphere Swirling smokes, colourful spheres Intensifying a bloodshed scene Three, two, one, a blue-green string cut "Don't do it!" they yelled "It's not worth it!" they said But too late, Death grinned at their faces No pulse, no heartbeat, no memories No single presence of bliss Just a cold, pale, Lifeless Body in the dark abyss -djs
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May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC
Crime Scene
If you ask me how my mind works, I would have no words to define No poems that can describe You would have to step inside My mind is a maze. Guided by maps of conversations Lost between walls of questionmarks If you ask me how my mind works, I would invite you in. But there's no guarantee you'll find your way out. Bon voyage.
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Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 6:50 PM UTC
Trapped Between Mindsets
Portals we call 'experiences' We merge into the mindsets of our various friendships Feasting like parasites, off of bliss and bruises Walking out one door into another Farewell to old parties Tiptoeing out of other people's stories I can't recognize who I was before I am who I am now "I can't believe I said that" "I can't believe I did that" Words we repeat throughout this journey Rippled reflection from pulling my head out of the water Drip drying pasts fading fast Sober psychedelic experiences from our God within Telling us to awaken the light we have been given
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Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 2:34 PM UTC
Living Multiple Lives in One Lifetime
Broken... Broken hearts Broken dreams Broken fantasies that possess me Broken manifested destinies Broken... Broken bones Broken souls Broken inner thoughts that get the best me   Broken swords that seem to never miss me Broken... Broken mindsets Broken sunsets Broken clouds that now poor upon thee Broken dams that wash away all life's worries Broken... The world we live in is just broken But the pieces to put it back together are around us The friends and family that surround us So fix it and be proud you have us
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Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 5:51 PM UTC
Broken
The true essence of a woman has never truly been understood From the Spanish demolishing our cultures to the way that they are viewed and treated in the hood. I don't like the use of the word ***** Whether you're rich or poor upper or middle class or a ********** lying in a ***** ditch In our indigenous tribal times women were respected, revered and held in a high regard the damage from a European psychology has pierced our mindsets and left men and society deeply scarred Try to keep you dumb, barefoot, and pregnant in the kitchen wishing, while he is out there acting a fool trying to be a player straight fishing I'm talking about a species that not only can bear a life but a being that can hold a job help with homework, cook, and be a **** wife Or maybe baby daddy was never really there or maybe he's stuck in the judicial system in a cell staring at the wall with a blank stare Single strong mama doing it all by her self playing the mother and father being the comforter and still having to pull out the belt Tu-pacs dear mama was real and said it the best until you've grown up with a single mother you're probably tripping like the rest I love you, respect you and truly understand your pain don't trip mami, I see you and all that work that you have put in is not in vain Keep grinding and working hard continue to do all that you can I feel you're and got your back I'm your number one fan And if your man doesn't appreciate you and treat you like the Queen that you are My advice, ditch the punk, be on your own or find a king that treats you like a true superstar.
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Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC
Woman
The true essence of a woman has never truly been understood From the Spanish demolishing our cultures to the way that they are viewed and treated in the hood. I don't like the use of the word ***** Whether you're rich or poor upper or middle class or a ********** lying in a ***** ditch In our indigenous tribal times women were respected, revered and held in a high regard the damage from a European psychology has pierced our mindsets and left men and society deeply scarred Try to keep you dumb, barefoot, and pregnant in the kitchen wishing, while he is out there acting a fool trying to be a player straight fishing I'm talking about a species that not only can bear a life but a being that can hold a job help with homework, cook, and be a **** wife Or maybe baby daddy was never really there or maybe he's stuck in the judicial system in a cell staring at the wall with a blank stare Single strong mama doing it all by her self playing the mother and father being the comforter and still having to pull out the belt Tu-pacs dear mama was real and said it the best until you've grown up with a single mother you're probably tripping like the rest I love you, respect you and truly understand your pain don't trip mami, I see you and all that work that you have put in is not in vain Keep grinding and working hard continue to do all that you can I feel you're and got your back I'm your number one fan And if your man doesn't appreciate you and treat you like the Queen that you are My advice, ditch the punk, be on your own or find a king that treats you like a true superstar.
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39
"We're only human." It's always said With doubt and disappointment Like all it will ever be Is a limitation Why is that always so? It should be said like It's an opportunity Meaning that we're only able To always improve We are only able To reach further And find a way to become Something better And something more Something that pushes on To improve the quality of life In any aspect possible Raising standards and Changing mindsets To unite under the idea Of being citizens of the world And move away from Being citizens of Our own selfishness So do not doubt Because we are only human Yearn and strive for better Simply because We are all human And who better than us To change the world
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Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 12:50 PM UTC
Humans
Veins, trees, roots, societies, species, groups. experiments of life itself like some ten year old's ant farm check it out on his shelf. mindsets with chemicals, controlled by our brains, are just different settings for someone else's mind games. one trial, another, whichever one works, if it doesn't no loss, He can work out the quirks. I guess we're all just one part of a cycle Like a garden or colony, a universe, a milky way, A planet, some gnarly astronomy. the sun and the moon and everything's orbit never cease to change or stay still if that's too confusing ignore it.
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Aug 21, 2012
Aug 21, 2012 at 4:43 PM UTC
Cyclistic
**Committing is hard Committing adultery?... Not so much Oh, you want to act like I just crossed a line? ...Uhhh... I don't think I did... not so much Relationship’s scarred But you know how good that forbidden pleasure is… to place your hands on that which you’ve been told ‘ Do not touch’ You know it is true Oh… you do know that, I know you do You've been there before… you probably didn't even mean to score But somehow you did And she ended up in your bed And… Well, no need to get into detail… enough said But wait, I just cannot stop there This one is for the groom who, at the altar, vows as solemnly as he is able to swear Never to betray his bride, but thinks... ‘well, depending on the level of hotness of the Au Pair’ Loyalty has a life span, and so does Trust And what an enemy they have in this character called Lust ‘Tis  just but the truth I speaketh…  one that we see Our mindsets should adjust drastically if we ever hope to be… Free… Of the possibility That we might cheat… For when I look around society at the moment, all I see… Is a bunch of people with the potential to commit adultery Oh! Oh!**
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Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 8:06 AM UTC
Of humans and pheromones...
betwixt by your memory on eves of somber silhouettes negative temperatures and mindsets funny how i ran our love into the ground naked promises are a shiver and a steamed mirror camaraderie, a dying breed broken motors and broken bones broken silence and broken homes broken me
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Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 6:58 AM UTC
broken poem
we place immeasurable weight on worthless unnecessaries mindsets carousel pointless reverberation off desolate hearts school, jobs, money, houses, cars, clothes, shoes, religion, media, materialistic vacancy food is waste shelter is empty water is dead I don't want to survive if I'm not alive
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Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 4:24 PM UTC
Definitionless Breathing
It's people like me who can rule the world, just by knowing simple little things like Fear. Fear is one of the main driving forces behind all of mankind's actions. Fear eternal torment? **** up to "God." Fear the unknown? Deny it or mock it. Fear superiors? Make yourself the superior one. Without fear we won't do anything, with fear we can only get worse as a species; We're really slowly moving towards constantly fearing everything; Especially each other. Along with things known like; No humans are equal. With differing talents, differing thoughts, differing opinions, how can we claim to be the same? The strong will enslave the weak, humanity will revert to olden times, with fear we deny yet again, though it matters not. The only question is, who will be strong and who will bow down? the basics of human nature will come back, Dominant verses submissive mindsets, manipulators verses manipulated, corruption verses purity. People like me don't have much to worry about; People always naturally follow and listen to me, and if they don't; I can be forceful. I'm a master organizer and networker, throwing together alliances, plans of revolution, takeover, by the time the sun rises. Differences are seen in how you train your people, much like dogs at that point, with either fear or affection. Affection and care yields listening and following, kind cooperation and content with and for a likeable face and likeable words. Ingrain fear, order, into them and reap the profits, they'll listen because they have to, and won't revolt because they fear what would happen. I wouldn't hurt 'em (usually), I'm highly capable of doing damage; It's important they know that. Throw a demonstration of power, knowledge, in once and a while, so they don't get used to me, and boom; With all of this you have an overlord. I don't think I'm a bad person though, people like me are just human-smart.
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Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 4:52 PM UTC
People Like Me
It's people like me who can rule the world, just by knowing simple little things like Fear. Fear is one of the main driving forces behind all of mankind's actions. Fear eternal torment? **** up to "God." Fear the unknown? Deny it or mock it. Fear superiors? Make yourself the superior one. Without fear we won't do anything, with fear we can only get worse as a species; We're really slowly moving towards constantly fearing everything; Especially each other. Along with things known like; No humans are equal. With differing talents, differing thoughts, differing opinions, how can we claim to be the same? The strong will enslave the weak, humanity will revert to olden times, with fear we deny yet again, though it matters not. The only question is, who will be strong and who will bow down? the basics of human nature will come back, Dominant verses submissive mindsets, manipulators verses manipulated, corruption verses purity. People like me don't have much to worry about; People always naturally follow and listen to me, and if they don't; I can be forceful. I'm a master organizer and networker, throwing together alliances, plans of revolution, takeover, by the time the sun rises. Differences are seen in how you train your people, much like dogs at that point, with either fear or affection. Affection and care yields listening and following, kind cooperation and content with and for a likeable face and likeable words. Ingrain fear, order, into them and reap the profits, they'll listen because they have to, and won't revolt because they fear what would happen. I wouldn't hurt 'em (usually), I'm highly capable of doing damage; It's important they know that. Throw a demonstration of power, knowledge, in once and a while, so they don't get used to me, and boom; With all of this you have an overlord. I don't think I'm a bad person though, people like me are just human-smart.
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42
I am an insomniac by association. I associate with sleepless nights and mindsets that are too wobbly and shaky to be anything less than a tornado. I want to rename my veins after hurricanes. This one's Sandy because it washed away the girl I loved in New Jersey. Because the ocean is never as salty as my cheeks after I kiss her through the miles. Because I am not a boy, because my mother thinks I wear black because I used to slit my wrists. Because of my tattoos that whisper of their memories while I lay in bed counting the stars I can't see. So I start counting the stars I see in my head. So I started taking drugs that made me see them instead. I am an insomniac because I want to sleep but only when I remember the reasons why I can't.
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC
Insomniac by Association
1 The Clowns in Brussels Sprouts have sent me a notebook. Tossers. The latest thrilling instalment from ******** Creek. The Animal Events Recording Notebook — fits in your pocket, if it happens to be a school bag. A little picture on the cover Jack, the farmer, a cow and her calf. Equally gay as it is oxymoronically inaccurate. No sign of a tag on either the cow or calf. The cow has a pair of horns that would **** any animal, never mind the farmer, statistically dead. Plus, the calf’s a bit too healthy looking and the cow ain’t trying to **** the farmer either. Between the covers coloured-coded sections chronicling the animal’s progress from Foetus to Fork. 2 Though, I do thoroughly enjoy filling out those additional comment columns. De-horning Next to castrating lambs, I love this job — all-the-more if there’s a gang. The first has no idea what coming and the last wishes they weren’t. But seriously, I’d say it hurts. A lot. Castration See Revival, issue 6 P.14 — revised in Inheritance P.26 Weaning Always good for poem. I laugh from the comfort of my bed. Ye’re only halfway lads And how far along are you? They inquire back. 3 Ok, I get it. Seriously. Stop depleting the rainforests please … I have my own notebook thanks. I understand their dilemma. They fear mindsets will be inherited form the old flock, the old stock — the canners and brass tags — who never converted. It’s like auld women and the church engrained since birth and no amount of jibber-jabber will sway. So they concentrate, groom us weanling growing up in the Age of A.I.M on BETTER Farms 4 Regardless, the second you tag a calf, the cunt’ll croak. So wink, wink: so not to jinx yourself and have to write a cheque; adjust your Balance Sheet, invariably affecting your Gross Margin. I know … I know S.M.R 6, 7 and all that $*@# But it’s so cold the frost is complaining. Plus, they said on the radio: be kind leave food out for the birds. I’m just thinking of the foxes. And, if anyone asks — she never came in calf
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Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 2:27 PM UTC
For the record
1 The Clowns in Brussels Sprouts have sent me a notebook. Tossers. The latest thrilling instalment from ******** Creek. The Animal Events Recording Notebook — fits in your pocket, if it happens to be a school bag. A little picture on the cover Jack, the farmer, a cow and her calf. Equally gay as it is oxymoronically inaccurate. No sign of a tag on either the cow or calf. The cow has a pair of horns that would **** any animal, never mind the farmer, statistically dead. Plus, the calf’s a bit too healthy looking and the cow ain’t trying to **** the farmer either. Between the covers coloured-coded sections chronicling the animal’s progress from Foetus to Fork. 2 Though, I do thoroughly enjoy filling out those additional comment columns. De-horning Next to castrating lambs, I love this job — all-the-more if there’s a gang. The first has no idea what coming and the last wishes they weren’t. But seriously, I’d say it hurts. A lot. Castration See Revival, issue 6 P.14 — revised in Inheritance P.26 Weaning Always good for poem. I laugh from the comfort of my bed. Ye’re only halfway lads And how far along are you? They inquire back. 3 Ok, I get it. Seriously. Stop depleting the rainforests please … I have my own notebook thanks. I understand their dilemma. They fear mindsets will be inherited form the old flock, the old stock — the canners and brass tags — who never converted. It’s like auld women and the church engrained since birth and no amount of jibber-jabber will sway. So they concentrate, groom us weanling growing up in the Age of A.I.M on BETTER Farms 4 Regardless, the second you tag a calf, the cunt’ll croak. So wink, wink: so not to jinx yourself and have to write a cheque; adjust your Balance Sheet, invariably affecting your Gross Margin. I know … I know S.M.R 6, 7 and all that $*@# But it’s so cold the frost is complaining. Plus, they said on the radio: be kind leave food out for the birds. I’m just thinking of the foxes. And, if anyone asks — she never came in calf
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70
I'm a tool pondering skyscapes. Fondling a memory Left behind On sunset marquees. It raced into the horizon like A toad on the road. A neon dream waving farewell. Exploring mindsets: An act in caressing Bloodbath tesseracts. A roundhouse rollercoaster, Spinning at velocity of perfume Hitting nasal perforations. Core memories surface along spine cutlets, No longer intrinsic Doubt. I'm settling for more. Time is a moment Too long to endure. Hindsight is A parson's lake passage; A mad monster yet to be tamed; A grain of salt to a fresh wound made; Moments of grace from a fake great ape. Blue morons slide Into Mormon jovial footsteps. Derided ice forestry into King's cloaked ancestry. A sad fisherman sailing Ceaselessly out to sea. And yet here I am Talking to you, Eyelight through obelisks In hotbox barricades. Hiding behind A past of newspapers. Headline reads 'ONLY DEVINE' 'TRADE REIGN WARNS JEWELS' 'PRINCE THREATENS ECONOMY ... AND CROWN.' Wipe the frown, Draw the sword. Don't be ignored anymore.
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Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 5:17 PM UTC
Momentary Overture
If only you knew how much you make my day from a text message or the gentleness of your voice How foolish would I be if you weren’t my choice First time we chilled in your room we sung and dance with one another So I thought **** it I’ll take one step further Two conflicting mindsets whom seek perfection We can’t away from each other Infatuated with our reflection Because of you I Laugh a little harder Cry a little less and Smile a little more Ooohhh how I despise to see you walk out the door I like you because your you. And that’s all that matters to me. I choose to love you because it’s a choice In my actions you’ll see Hopefully not a day late because by then that’ll cease My love unmeasurable and unconditional if you’ll open your eyes and see me in front of you You’ll notice you’ve already won
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Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 4:32 AM UTC
Out There