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"minions" poems
1 It was one of those clear,sharp.mustless days That summer and man delight in. Never had Heaven seemed quite so high, Never had earth seemed quite so green, Never had the world seemed quite so clean Or sky so nigh. And I heard the Deity’s voice in The sun’s warm rays, And the white cloud’s intricate maze, And the blue sky’s beautiful sheen. 2 I looked to the heavens and saw him there,— A black speck downward drifting, Nearer and nearer he steadily sailed, Nearer and nearer he slid through space, In an unending aerial race, This sailor who hailed From the Clime of the Clouds.—Ever shifting, On billows of air And the blue sky seemed never so fair, And the rest of the world kept pace. 3 On the white of his head the sun flashed bright; And he battled the wind with wide pinions, Clearer and clearer the gale whistled loud, Clearer and clearer he came into view,— Bigger and blacker against the blue. Then a dragon of cloud Gathering all its minions Rushed to the fight, And swallowed him up in a bite; And the sky lay empty clear through. 4 Long I watched. And at last afar Caught sight of a speck in the vastness; Ever smaller,ever decreasing, Ever drifting,drifting awayInto the endless realms of day; Finally ceasing. So into Heaven’s vast fastness Vanished that bar Of black,as a fluttering star Goes out while still on its way. 5 So I lost him. But I shall always see In my mind The warm,yellow sun,and the ether free; The vista’s sky,and the white cloud trailing, Trailing behind,— And below the young earth’s summer-green arbors, And on high the eagle,—sailing,sailing Into far skies and unknown harbors
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40.4k
The Eagle
1 It was one of those clear,sharp.mustless days That summer and man delight in. Never had Heaven seemed quite so high, Never had earth seemed quite so green, Never had the world seemed quite so clean Or sky so nigh. And I heard the Deity’s voice in The sun’s warm rays, And the white cloud’s intricate maze, And the blue sky’s beautiful sheen. 2 I looked to the heavens and saw him there,— A black speck downward drifting, Nearer and nearer he steadily sailed, Nearer and nearer he slid through space, In an unending aerial race, This sailor who hailed From the Clime of the Clouds.—Ever shifting, On billows of air And the blue sky seemed never so fair, And the rest of the world kept pace. 3 On the white of his head the sun flashed bright; And he battled the wind with wide pinions, Clearer and clearer the gale whistled loud, Clearer and clearer he came into view,— Bigger and blacker against the blue. Then a dragon of cloud Gathering all its minions Rushed to the fight, And swallowed him up in a bite; And the sky lay empty clear through. 4 Long I watched. And at last afar Caught sight of a speck in the vastness; Ever smaller,ever decreasing, Ever drifting,drifting awayInto the endless realms of day; Finally ceasing. So into Heaven’s vast fastness Vanished that bar Of black,as a fluttering star Goes out while still on its way. 5 So I lost him. But I shall always see In my mind The warm,yellow sun,and the ether free; The vista’s sky,and the white cloud trailing, Trailing behind,— And below the young earth’s summer-green arbors, And on high the eagle,—sailing,sailing Into far skies and unknown harbors
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52
I wake as your  friend                                     You wake as my lover I speak as your lover                                       You speak as my friend I act as your possession                                   You are my possesion I rebel as your cover                                        A means to an end I hurt for your compassion                             You live for my acceptance I injure for your respect                                  Though it's never been withheld I confide for your emotion                              You crave my direction I give and you collect                                      Never will you rebel This is madness                                               This is Sparta This is insanity                                                This is the price of exellence I can't be everything for you                          I am your everything You can't be everything for me                     I am magnificence You treat everyone the same                         I am fair and righteous As a friend, yet as a lover                              And yet you seek more And it's a cruel, cruel game                          Dare you grow capricious From your twisted love, no one recovers     You'll become one I abhor I am done                                                       You are confused (I am never done)                                          And I will not calm you I am sick                                                        *As I am amused* (But I'm not tired)                                         As I drop little clues   I will run                                                        You'll never leave me (I won't run)                                                  But I'll abandon you Because I love you                                        You'll always need me (A better word is 'desire')                             And I'll never need you Let me go!                                                    My grip is vice-like (But you're not holding me)                       I'm not ready to let you go Bring me back!                                            If I lose you, 'my dear' (But I never left)                                          I must find yet another 'beau' Love me only!                                             And I've not the time to put effort (But you love equally)                               In little minions like you Push me away!                                          I've not a care to give for (Or bridge this rift)                                    You insects I never knew Please, disappear                                       I am your torture One day you'll understand                      But I am your salvation That the twisted way you love                 I am your executioner Could coax death from any human        And I am your redemption Please, disappear!                                     You'll wish me dead forever Though I'll weep when you're gone        You'll wish me dead I know I know sanity will return                          And you'll wish yourself deader And I'll eventually move on.                    When away I finally go.
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Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 8:25 PM UTC
Parallel Insanity
I wake as your  friend                                     You wake as my lover I speak as your lover                                       You speak as my friend I act as your possession                                   You are my possesion I rebel as your cover                                        A means to an end I hurt for your compassion                             You live for my acceptance I injure for your respect                                  Though it's never been withheld I confide for your emotion                              You crave my direction I give and you collect                                      Never will you rebel This is madness                                               This is Sparta This is insanity                                                This is the price of exellence I can't be everything for you                          I am your everything You can't be everything for me                     I am magnificence You treat everyone the same                         I am fair and righteous As a friend, yet as a lover                              And yet you seek more And it's a cruel, cruel game                          Dare you grow capricious From your twisted love, no one recovers     You'll become one I abhor I am done                                                       You are confused (I am never done)                                          And I will not calm you I am sick                                                        *As I am amused* (But I'm not tired)                                         As I drop little clues   I will run                                                        You'll never leave me (I won't run)                                                  But I'll abandon you Because I love you                                        You'll always need me (A better word is 'desire')                             And I'll never need you Let me go!                                                    My grip is vice-like (But you're not holding me)                       I'm not ready to let you go Bring me back!                                            If I lose you, 'my dear' (But I never left)                                          I must find yet another 'beau' Love me only!                                             And I've not the time to put effort (But you love equally)                               In little minions like you Push me away!                                          I've not a care to give for (Or bridge this rift)                                    You insects I never knew Please, disappear                                       I am your torture One day you'll understand                      But I am your salvation That the twisted way you love                 I am your executioner Could coax death from any human        And I am your redemption Please, disappear!                                     You'll wish me dead forever Though I'll weep when you're gone        You'll wish me dead I know I know sanity will return                          And you'll wish yourself deader And I'll eventually move on.                    When away I finally go.
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40
His army perched above in trees, Watching the front become a feast, Who wins, care not, in the least? "The cawing clan of Koronos..." The thousands black they view the fight, Staying late for supper -feeding at night... Picking tender morsels in illumed moon-light, "Swarthy minions of King Koronos!" Corvid follow Man wherever he may go, Feathery tomes of knowledge their treasure trove, The messengers in the House of Jove... "His static barbizon Aves; Koronos!" There are many kings who come and go, Becoming part and parcel in a wicked show, But none of them will ever match the Crow... "Engrosser of the dead; Koronos!" *
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Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
King Crow
She may be ****** And she may check my fingers- Slam her hard metal pole down on them- Each time we practice lacrosse. And she may roll her eyes At Me. But I don't hate her. I feel sorry for her. Because I think I'm the only one Who pays attention Through the laughter and fun That He touches her. And she makes a joke out of it So her minions snap out of their dazed state and Chuckle a little bit. But his crawling fingers are greedy And her words are scarce. All of the brain-dead minions Laugh when she jokingly screams, **** Except me.
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May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 10:13 PM UTC
And She May Be ******
are we so unloved........in this the very day that holds together all of creation? wonderous sight!...eachother! freely coming unto what we know to call "the sacred door" weeping and moaning in sheer lonliness hating our abusing friends who we then so gladly abuse thankful for "justification" we stomp our own poor face by face we'd re-lynch negros if we could get the rag heads YES WE CAN...HURRAY! while the deadly oil spill SIMPLY ERASED IF NOT FROM THE WATERS .....THEN FROM MEMORIES we hate our lovers from the day we meet and when he's gone we want him back again! so very unloved but wait! when a true friend appears we just call him "nerd" or "geek" lonley loveless yet so safe from the overwhelming reality loving to be unloved the power trip that never fades away
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Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 12:53 PM UTC
unloved minions
A waif on this earth, Sick, ugly and small, Contemned from my birth And rejected by all, From my lips broke a cry, Such as anguish may wring, Sing, — said God in reply, Chant poor little thing. By Wealth's coach besmeared With dirt in a shower, Insulted and jeered By the minions of power, Where — oh where shall I fly? Who comfort will bring? Sing, — said God in reply, Chant poor little thing. Life struck me with fright — Full of chances and pain, So I hugged with delight The drudge's hard chain; One must eat, — yet I die, Like a bird with clipped wing, Sing — said God in reply, Chant poor little thing. Love cheered for a while My morn with his ray, But like a ripple or smile My youth passed away. Now near Beauty I sigh, But fled is the spring! Sing — said God in reply, Chant poor little thing. All men have a task, And to sing is my lot — No meed from men I ask But one kindly thought. My vocation is high — 'Mid the glasses that ring, Still — still comes that reply, Chant poor little thing.
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My Vocation
Extermination decapitation Nocturnal obliteration Armadillos anteater bafoon Typhoon heatwave... Mr Grim Reaper DON'T YOU KNOW? No grave can keep Her... Men march on as to heaven Twenty four seven Three Six five days Ten different ways Passionate professional Daring sharing nurturing Caring...Monsters within Minions Amazing people aren't they There is no substitute for hard work Just observe Ants.
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 5:04 PM UTC
Megastar Minions(ANTS)
As a uniform, he always wore the grey ironmonger's coat immaculately pressed and bore clipped hair neat as well as a close shave. Mr. Cornthwaite (all of us minions called him only Mr.) was no "Do It 'Cos I Say So" boss but with patience would teach and preach retail folklore: Cooks' staples stored well inside our mini-market shop advanced for its 50s' existence; shelf-stacking to re-arrange for early use-by at the front; fast-moving lines checked hourly if not sooner; trusted staff becoming the Tasting Squad for new fresh produce being considered for supply - The Cornflake (never uttered in his hearing) circulating to ensure not only that his ever-clear commands were reflected in full shelves but also that staff were coping not rushed or overwhelmed. The best Warrant Officer cares just as much commands as my de-mobbed Warrant Officer father used to tell me when I asked. (c) C J Heyworth
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May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 7:49 AM UTC
Thank You Stanley Cornflake
The heart works for the hard work, beating constantly as targets are acquired. Shots fired, money wired and payments aplenty. Contacts signed, terms and conditions defined, it could take time, but the ***** rolling. Touch base as we reach for the stars, customers in charge, their business is ours. We roll monthly, comfortably in our own domains, renew them annually again as the pattern remains the same. Some days, it's a struggle to get out of the pit, feeling burnout, lack energy for my daily workout. The wage ain't great but the dividends could add up to millions. Some are cynical but I won't listen to those opinions. I treat my staff as people not minions. No need for incidents were a team of individuals. Passionate and driven creatures, hidden features and secret keepers. Let's get money and lets get paid, Theres a million ways we can earn more than the minimum wage. Let's raise the bar, the city is ours and the worlds not too far away... Dream tomorrow and live today.
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May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 8:19 AM UTC
Labor omnia vincit
Who's comb-over looks like ***** Donald's comb-over looks like ***** Who scared us shitless election night? Donald scared us shitless election night. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump Who's got a tie that's long and red? The Don has a tie that's long and red? Who pays hookers to **** on beds? The Don pays hookers to **** on beds. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. Who's got hands tiny and slight? The Don has hands tiny and slight. Who spews lies out day and night? The Don spews lies out day and night. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. Who's got a vocab small and trite? The Don has a vocab small and trite. Who whines Fake News out of spite? The Don whines Fake News out of spite. Small and trite. Out of spite. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. Who likes tweeting SAD SAD SAD? The Don likes tweeting SAD SAD SAD. Who likes a spanking when he's bad? The Don likes a spanking when he's bad. Bad, bad, bad, SAD SAD SAD, Small and trite. Out of spite. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. How many minions leave today? So many so far went their way. Comey, Priebus, Flynn and Bannon, Tillerson, Spicer, Hope and Ryan. Leave today. Gone their way. Bad, bad, bad, SAD SAD SAD, Small and trite. Out of spite. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump.
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May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 9:03 AM UTC
Must Be Donald
Who's comb-over looks like ***** Donald's comb-over looks like ***** Who scared us shitless election night? Donald scared us shitless election night. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump Who's got a tie that's long and red? The Don has a tie that's long and red? Who pays hookers to **** on beds? The Don pays hookers to **** on beds. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. Who's got hands tiny and slight? The Don has hands tiny and slight. Who spews lies out day and night? The Don spews lies out day and night. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. Who's got a vocab small and trite? The Don has a vocab small and trite. Who whines Fake News out of spite? The Don whines Fake News out of spite. Small and trite. Out of spite. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. Who likes tweeting SAD SAD SAD? The Don likes tweeting SAD SAD SAD. Who likes a spanking when he's bad? The Don likes a spanking when he's bad. Bad, bad, bad, SAD SAD SAD, Small and trite. Out of spite. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. How many minions leave today? So many so far went their way. Comey, Priebus, Flynn and Bannon, Tillerson, Spicer, Hope and Ryan. Leave today. Gone their way. Bad, bad, bad, SAD SAD SAD, Small and trite. Out of spite. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump.
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63
*Swift as a cheetah On its way to destruction A great dark swirling mass Of water, Accompanied by the small minions We call rain And thunder Lighting up the dark sky momentarily*
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May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 10:05 AM UTC
The hurricane
By: Cedric McClester ALLAHU-AKBAR, (TRUE) GOD IS GREATER THAN THEY KNEW Or why would they do what they do And then pervert al-Islam too BISMILAH – (IN THE NAME OF ALLAH) They plant bombs inside of cars To blow up strangers near and far But they take things too ******* far AL-HUMDILILAH – (PRAISE ALLAH) But not by giving Islam a scar Who the hell they think they are Shaytan’s minions? They’re on par ASTAGFIGALAH (MAY ALLAH FORGIVE) Those not cursed by how they live Chopping heads off especially with A rusty knife known as a shiv INSHALLAH (IF IT’S ALLAH’S WILL) Those who maim and also **** Will soon be presented with the bill And their ambitions will get them nil ALLAHU-ALUM (ALLAH KNOWS BEST) The sins they will have to confess To get those sins up off their chest While facing hell fire nevertheless WALAHI (I SWEAR BY ALLAH) Hell will find them wherever they are In their homes near or far Because they have raised the bar YA-HAMUKALAH (MAY ALLAH PROTECT YOU) From those **** Who constantly beat their war drums And take advantage of the deaf blind and dumb Copyright © 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
ALLAHU-AKBAR, (TRUE)
Lucid, abusive Tongue in cheek divine Stupid, elusive Lost soul of mine A snap of orchestral fingers to summon the suave illustrator Mohawk punks and minions to smash the limp masturbator Loveless, acquiesce Arpeggio flutter ripples Convalesce, Fancy dress ******* with perky ******* One or two drinks, make it three then five Keeping the blood warm and love alive Visceral, peripheral Dark raven hair Liberal, scriptural I couldn’t even care. I adored her all, her everything, her gleaming demeanor The subtle wink of her eyes, the glow; even greener Exotica, ex machina Street amazon of desert glass sand No drama, rural karma Flesh sweating like the heat of Sudan Dead singers like Cole and Morrison sing of paper moons and Crystal Ships The mixed CD segues to U2, Pulp, and then a full disk of The Flaming Lips. "Nightingale", minor scale The saxophonist played under the street lamp outside Folktale female “Another drink?” she abides, two glasses and wine supplied On her balcony we watched and listened, to the call of urban passion The wordless music we adored, a testament to our mutual attraction.
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Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 5:07 AM UTC
After Hours
I would rather sleep with a breathing sun than with his blinking minions.
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Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 6:39 PM UTC
Insomnia
Conformity kills your self-expression It only leads to deep depression Conformity grows and never ends True things that exist are labeled as trends Inside the system, the machine presses on Conformity kills as I recite this poem Conformity kills all the human opinions Everyone wants to be too much alike Conformity releases millions of minions All of us suffer as we lose the fight Can't we just stop and try to be different Ending this crap is so far out of sight Conformity kills Drains Steals All the clothes from off our back CONFORMITY KILLS KILLS KILLS KILLS
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Oct 18, 2010
Oct 18, 2010 at 2:44 PM UTC
Conformity Kills
Every night the Dark Shadow comes for me, Taking away all my hopes and dreams, Leaving me in despair. He sends his dark minions after me, Clawing every happy memory i have Until there's nothing left. Until i'm nothing but an empty shell.
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Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 2:17 AM UTC
Nightmares
An Amish elder named Mullet, And some of his ****** clan, bore hatred deep in their gullets for their Amish fellow man. ****** seemed out of the question, It’s rare among Amish, folks say, (It may be that a horse and a carriage doesn’t make for a quick getaway.) So Mullet and some of his minions Invented a new sort of crime: Shaving their bearded opponents one Amish man at a time. Losing one’s beard among Amish- A disgrace before God, it’s been said. Mullet spared no woman either choping the hair from their heads. His victims are speechless with anger, denuded of both beards and hair. Leave it to someone named “Mullet” To offend using a Barber’s chair. Mullet’s in Federal custody; charged with a crime, not a sin. He refuses to answer the charges By the hair of his chinny chin chin.
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Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 8:29 PM UTC
An Amish Hate Crime
*Soft underbellies of corruption, impropriety and moral decay Blatantly masquerade as societal bulwarks to aggression and disintegration Minions fine-tuned to dance to the tune Of godfather functionaries champion   Progressively retrogressive causes that follow The course of destruction. Is there light at the end of the tunnel? Reason and logic persuade otherwise It’s thus “safe” to conclude that A compassion filled individual Quintessentially embodies a positively radicalized individual Wielding immense unbridled power To impact society in ways unfathomable Whilst in complete understanding of the fact that “Absolute power corrupts absolutely” Are you that compassion filled individual??*
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Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 11:06 AM UTC
Panacea of social ills
Enemy training, one, two three Is notable for its simplicity. You just arm yourself thoroughly And shoot people with alacrity. Don’t worry about being wrong Or whether an action is right. That they don’t want you to shoot Is enough to start the fight. Please take this as truth That this is how it is done If you see someone as enemy You cease to see a human. The fact that they are armed And don’t like who you like Is enough to create words like **** **** ****** and **** Enemy training, one, two three Is notable for its simplicity. You just arm yourself thoroughly And shoot people with alacrity. Line up the opposition forces Against a bullet-riddled wall And shoot them many times And see how many will fall. The ones who do not die Must be minions of the devil. They are the enemy, you see. That’s all. That’s on the level. Don’t worry about being wrong Or whether an action is right. That they don’t want you to shoot Is enough to start the fight. And those people that don’t Believe in your own form of Jesus, Like Aerabbs and Jews and such, Shoot them as much as it pleases. Because they won’t go to heaven, And are just heathens anyway Like them Buddhist dingdongs Like them ****** lesbians and gays. Enemy training, one, two three Is notable for its simplicity. You just arm yourself thoroughly And shoot people with alacrity. And people in foreign countries Well, you can guess how that goes; Take a look and easily compare Canadanians to them from Mexico. The French are Frogs, Spanish spics. None as good as us Americans. And nothing good can come out Of any **** place that is African. Don’t worry about being wrong Or whether an action is right. That they don’t want you to shoot Is enough to start the fight. Now if you find some of this offensive And if this is revving up your motors, Just bear in mind, this is what goes on In the mind of the average voter. Want to change this, make life better? Drop your representatives a letter. Tell them you are on to their villainy And see them as supporting the REAL enemy.
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Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 8:56 PM UTC
ENEMY TRAINING
Enemy training, one, two three Is notable for its simplicity. You just arm yourself thoroughly And shoot people with alacrity. Don’t worry about being wrong Or whether an action is right. That they don’t want you to shoot Is enough to start the fight. Please take this as truth That this is how it is done If you see someone as enemy You cease to see a human. The fact that they are armed And don’t like who you like Is enough to create words like **** **** ****** and **** Enemy training, one, two three Is notable for its simplicity. You just arm yourself thoroughly And shoot people with alacrity. Line up the opposition forces Against a bullet-riddled wall And shoot them many times And see how many will fall. The ones who do not die Must be minions of the devil. They are the enemy, you see. That’s all. That’s on the level. Don’t worry about being wrong Or whether an action is right. That they don’t want you to shoot Is enough to start the fight. And those people that don’t Believe in your own form of Jesus, Like Aerabbs and Jews and such, Shoot them as much as it pleases. Because they won’t go to heaven, And are just heathens anyway Like them Buddhist dingdongs Like them ****** lesbians and gays. Enemy training, one, two three Is notable for its simplicity. You just arm yourself thoroughly And shoot people with alacrity. And people in foreign countries Well, you can guess how that goes; Take a look and easily compare Canadanians to them from Mexico. The French are Frogs, Spanish spics. None as good as us Americans. And nothing good can come out Of any **** place that is African. Don’t worry about being wrong Or whether an action is right. That they don’t want you to shoot Is enough to start the fight. Now if you find some of this offensive And if this is revving up your motors, Just bear in mind, this is what goes on In the mind of the average voter. Want to change this, make life better? Drop your representatives a letter. Tell them you are on to their villainy And see them as supporting the REAL enemy.
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64
**Drop your Grudge Rants by the door We Will Not Tolarate This Anymore Edit and toss Distasteful Rhymes Ugly Poems with Vain designs Haughty thoughts and bitter words Childish petty accusing verbs Who did What to Who and When Will this Clusterfuck never end? Selfish actions, Spoiled Children We Refuse to be your Minions Like CNN And Drone Fox news We've had enough of Self Serving views Hurting hearts, far and wide tender Poets with tenuous pride Yet, Strutting and Indignant for who I ask? All those involved, A Donkeys *** Not a home for Egotistical Zealots Nor a place for flinging pellets We come in Peace, HP to share Not get caught in ugly snares And to the few that have the gaul. "If you have nothing decent to say, say nothing at all"** **YOU CHOOSE TO USE HP THIS WAY. GO AWAY. FIND SOME WHERE ELSE TO PLAY.** ●HELLO●HELLO●HELLO●                  Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels. All Rights Reserved
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Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 6:55 PM UTC
●HELLO●HELLO●HELLO●
Who's comb-over looks like ***** Donald's comb-over looks like ***** Who's scared shiteless on election night? Donald's scared shitless on election night. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump Who's got a tie that's long and red? The Don has a tie that's long and red? Who pays hookers to *** on beds? The Don pays hookers to *** on beds. *** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. Who's got hands tiny and slight? The Don has hands tiny and slight. Who spews lies out day and night? The Don spews lies out day and night. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. Who's got a vocab small and trite? The Don has a vocab small and trite. Who whines Fake News out of spite? The Don whines Fake News out of spite. Small and trite. Out of spite. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. Who likes tweeting SAD SAD SAD? The Don likes tweeting SAD SAD SAD. Who likes a spanking when he's bad? The Don likes a spanking when he's bad. Bad, bad, bad, SAD SAD SAD, Small and trite. Out of spite. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. How many minions leave today? So many so far went their way. Comey, Priebus, Flynn and Bannon, Tillerson, Spicer, Hope and Ryan. Leave today. Gone their way. Bad, bad, bad, SAD SAD SAD, Small and trite. Out of spite. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump.
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Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 7:07 PM UTC
Must Be Donald
Who's comb-over looks like ***** Donald's comb-over looks like ***** Who's scared shiteless on election night? Donald's scared shitless on election night. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump Who's got a tie that's long and red? The Don has a tie that's long and red? Who pays hookers to *** on beds? The Don pays hookers to *** on beds. *** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. Who's got hands tiny and slight? The Don has hands tiny and slight. Who spews lies out day and night? The Don spews lies out day and night. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. Who's got a vocab small and trite? The Don has a vocab small and trite. Who whines Fake News out of spite? The Don whines Fake News out of spite. Small and trite. Out of spite. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. Who likes tweeting SAD SAD SAD? The Don likes tweeting SAD SAD SAD. Who likes a spanking when he's bad? The Don likes a spanking when he's bad. Bad, bad, bad, SAD SAD SAD, Small and trite. Out of spite. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump. How many minions leave today? So many so far went their way. Comey, Priebus, Flynn and Bannon, Tillerson, Spicer, Hope and Ryan. Leave today. Gone their way. Bad, bad, bad, SAD SAD SAD, Small and trite. Out of spite. Day and night. Tiny and slight. **** on beds. Long and red. Election night. Looks like ***** Must be Donald. Must be Donald. Must be Donald, Donald Trump.
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63
The Anger within me is boiling The situation seems out of control The fight or flight responses Is as primal as it can be. The amygdala, kicks in And takes over for me. But why blame it on primal Cause religion teaches another Created by the Father Born of free will are we. The choice of being noble Or primal is in my capacity So I decide to test my confusion And see who lives inside of me A person of free will or  A carnal nature of me. So when I encounter situations Which would otherwise anger me I'd like to bellow in rage I'd like to make believe Here my animal is taking over I can feel his grip over me The struggle within me is stronger The ground I'm loosing steadily I laugh! Where are you free will? See whose got me now in his grip And then in the flash of the moment I see the irony! Suddenly as if the scene's changed The reactor becomes the actor Letting go of a long sigh The drama comes to a halt. For in that moment, free will kicked in My freedom I realized Yes we are carnal beings And it's not surprising Because animals behave just as we But we are armed with an arsenal To be infinitesimally good To be heavenly If only we listen to our inner wealth Telling us to above all rise When we give vent to our free will. It's that moment to decide. Anger is worst of the lot of monsters But alone he's usually not. He has a lot of companions His minions are all about. This matter is not simple Don't get bogged down in psychiatry Practice makes one perfect Tackle your fears and threats Handle each one steadily Before long you'll know the signs Arm yourself with humility His minions will try wreak havoc And wound your ability So stop the amygdala from taking over Ask yourself is it worth? What is the worse that could happen if things didn't go your way. The answer will be astonishing When you've discovered your treasure You'll find the demon's flown What a relief it will be You'll feel blessed abundantly
0
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
Anger management
The Anger within me is boiling The situation seems out of control The fight or flight responses Is as primal as it can be. The amygdala, kicks in And takes over for me. But why blame it on primal Cause religion teaches another Created by the Father Born of free will are we. The choice of being noble Or primal is in my capacity So I decide to test my confusion And see who lives inside of me A person of free will or  A carnal nature of me. So when I encounter situations Which would otherwise anger me I'd like to bellow in rage I'd like to make believe Here my animal is taking over I can feel his grip over me The struggle within me is stronger The ground I'm loosing steadily I laugh! Where are you free will? See whose got me now in his grip And then in the flash of the moment I see the irony! Suddenly as if the scene's changed The reactor becomes the actor Letting go of a long sigh The drama comes to a halt. For in that moment, free will kicked in My freedom I realized Yes we are carnal beings And it's not surprising Because animals behave just as we But we are armed with an arsenal To be infinitesimally good To be heavenly If only we listen to our inner wealth Telling us to above all rise When we give vent to our free will. It's that moment to decide. Anger is worst of the lot of monsters But alone he's usually not. He has a lot of companions His minions are all about. This matter is not simple Don't get bogged down in psychiatry Practice makes one perfect Tackle your fears and threats Handle each one steadily Before long you'll know the signs Arm yourself with humility His minions will try wreak havoc And wound your ability So stop the amygdala from taking over Ask yourself is it worth? What is the worse that could happen if things didn't go your way. The answer will be astonishing When you've discovered your treasure You'll find the demon's flown What a relief it will be You'll feel blessed abundantly
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66
The King of the World is on his way now, he always shows up when the chips are down. Everyone just loves The King of the World, he always arrives with his banners unfurled. The King can be a loud chap, or The King can be quite a quiet mime, he even puts his pants on one royal leg at a time! The King might eat breakfast, or The King just might not, he is everything you are, yet is is all that you forgot. He's a musician of sorts, with a very big band, his arrival is in herald, throughout every land -with brass trumpets a-blare, and snare-drums rat-a-tat, he makes everyone aware, that he's now where you're at! The King marches his forces through the cities and fields, assure of his courses, lying flat beneath his heel. He revels at the sight of deterioration, fills his belly with the joy of nations in extinction. The King grounds everything down to things he scrapes off his boots, he topples the governs and poisons the cultural roots. The King's fixations are splashed with spatters of blood, turning kingdoms into crumbles of ashes and mud. He bulldozes the bodies into toxic pits of **** contaminates by obscenity, wringing his hands at the wit. Lionized by his minions in the empty empires he wrought, The King's elite ruling class is dictated with rot. In the aftermath of the bile of his genocidal, sweet plight, The King celebrates with great style, turning the daylight into night. With bonfires a-blaze on the wicked, windy wasteland, The King of the World strikes up his big band, and once marching again will torch and ravish the land, dropping massive, beautiful bombs for the sake of the thrill, melting the people and villages and eroding the hills. The time for The King always is nigh, for he is surrounded by the conjurations of lies. Some say he is evil, (but, he's not the Devil, you see) -He's The King of the World, he is you, he is me.
0
Sep 14, 2010
Sep 14, 2010 at 9:14 AM UTC
The King of the World
The King of the World is on his way now, he always shows up when the chips are down. Everyone just loves The King of the World, he always arrives with his banners unfurled. The King can be a loud chap, or The King can be quite a quiet mime, he even puts his pants on one royal leg at a time! The King might eat breakfast, or The King just might not, he is everything you are, yet is is all that you forgot. He's a musician of sorts, with a very big band, his arrival is in herald, throughout every land -with brass trumpets a-blare, and snare-drums rat-a-tat, he makes everyone aware, that he's now where you're at! The King marches his forces through the cities and fields, assure of his courses, lying flat beneath his heel. He revels at the sight of deterioration, fills his belly with the joy of nations in extinction. The King grounds everything down to things he scrapes off his boots, he topples the governs and poisons the cultural roots. The King's fixations are splashed with spatters of blood, turning kingdoms into crumbles of ashes and mud. He bulldozes the bodies into toxic pits of **** contaminates by obscenity, wringing his hands at the wit. Lionized by his minions in the empty empires he wrought, The King's elite ruling class is dictated with rot. In the aftermath of the bile of his genocidal, sweet plight, The King celebrates with great style, turning the daylight into night. With bonfires a-blaze on the wicked, windy wasteland, The King of the World strikes up his big band, and once marching again will torch and ravish the land, dropping massive, beautiful bombs for the sake of the thrill, melting the people and villages and eroding the hills. The time for The King always is nigh, for he is surrounded by the conjurations of lies. Some say he is evil, (but, he's not the Devil, you see) -He's The King of the World, he is you, he is me.
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51
Read, watched, Listened for snippets Wore the buttons, Devoured anything… Apartheid Had my own personal Bedroom Revolution... Jumped high…In place… with the best of them Little balled up fists… Pumping… Chanted the chants Sang the song Freeee-ee Nelson Mandelaaaa Freeee-ee Nelson Mandelaaaa And I meant it! Oh My God I meant it from my young revolutionary soul Cried adolescent girl cries For our South African brothers and sisters All of the martyrs Known and unknown STOP APARTHIED! STOP APARTHIED! Free Nelson Mandela!! To this very day I love me some Nelson Mandela Love the man he is Mourn the man he was Big Fine Educated Pugilistic African Man Passionate Compassionate On that serious mission Who, though technically still breathing upon his release, in reality Gave his life To promote the cessation of An idea more merciless even than the Rwandan genocide In that Death Seldom came quickly A system more sadistic even than the African Slave Trade In that it was not based economically Therefore ALL the “Kaffers” Could be maimed or die And it wouldn’t cost a thing… Monetarily speaking A society wherein Each Black death Someone’s Job… or Someone’s Entertainment Every atrocity’s purpose to serve only to Douse fuel on the already Brightly burning fire of Hate and torture and hate I love Nelson Mandela For making like David And having the ***** To take on the Goliath Apartheid Satan is creative His minions resourceful We will never know the indignities; Can only imagine the violations My Nelson was forced to endure Imprisoned for 27 years I love Nelson Mandela For having the strength To keep living When so many others couldn’t Still able to put One In front of The other Albeit gingerly But still locomoting Out of hell On his own two feet… That alone makes him a hero To me In my heart he will always be The Big Fine Educated Pugilistic Passionate Compassionate Hero That the young revolutionary in me sings about…
0
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 6:29 PM UTC
Love Me Some Nelson Mandela
Read, watched, Listened for snippets Wore the buttons, Devoured anything… Apartheid Had my own personal Bedroom Revolution... Jumped high…In place… with the best of them Little balled up fists… Pumping… Chanted the chants Sang the song Freeee-ee Nelson Mandelaaaa Freeee-ee Nelson Mandelaaaa And I meant it! Oh My God I meant it from my young revolutionary soul Cried adolescent girl cries For our South African brothers and sisters All of the martyrs Known and unknown STOP APARTHIED! STOP APARTHIED! Free Nelson Mandela!! To this very day I love me some Nelson Mandela Love the man he is Mourn the man he was Big Fine Educated Pugilistic African Man Passionate Compassionate On that serious mission Who, though technically still breathing upon his release, in reality Gave his life To promote the cessation of An idea more merciless even than the Rwandan genocide In that Death Seldom came quickly A system more sadistic even than the African Slave Trade In that it was not based economically Therefore ALL the “Kaffers” Could be maimed or die And it wouldn’t cost a thing… Monetarily speaking A society wherein Each Black death Someone’s Job… or Someone’s Entertainment Every atrocity’s purpose to serve only to Douse fuel on the already Brightly burning fire of Hate and torture and hate I love Nelson Mandela For making like David And having the ***** To take on the Goliath Apartheid Satan is creative His minions resourceful We will never know the indignities; Can only imagine the violations My Nelson was forced to endure Imprisoned for 27 years I love Nelson Mandela For having the strength To keep living When so many others couldn’t Still able to put One In front of The other Albeit gingerly But still locomoting Out of hell On his own two feet… That alone makes him a hero To me In my heart he will always be The Big Fine Educated Pugilistic Passionate Compassionate Hero That the young revolutionary in me sings about…
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91
By Joseph Childress “Habeus corpus!!!” Yelled in court From some youngin’ In the back row As he rose With a roll of parchment The constitution laid dead in his hold . A gleam seen in the judge’s eyes As he glances, quickly Behind glasses While guards escort The disrupter of courts To the unknown . All hail the corpse of freedom! Warranted from the lack of warnings All hell: The corporate companies cooperating In coup d’etats Disguised as peace keepings Offering the Sacrificial kings of Africa Offing the Head of state In a distasteful display of feardom Fear dominates The war on terrorism Military minions pillage the dominions Of the defenseless The final blow Screams Like the Final Call In the falling of an empire Protesters test the unrest And spread Words That are read In the weaving of our future Detention Sit-ins for those who Speak during class warfare Constitutions re-written To constitute illegal imprisonment Of free Speakers, Thinkers, And believers Citizens find it harder To not pay attention When the war in the Middle East Is fought in America Patriotic Acts to enact Unpatriotic actions That exact Hate on the coward-less fraction Surveillanced As if ass-kissing will ever be in option They’re warning us To stay sleep with the rest Those who awake Will meet a force Worse Than the crusades As they raid the houses Of our brothers, sisters, and Controversial, conspiracy contriving cousins They will come Like thieves in the night To undue The debt due to society The battle begins, And the Martyrs are ready.
0
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC
Indefinite Definition
By Joseph Childress “Habeus corpus!!!” Yelled in court From some youngin’ In the back row As he rose With a roll of parchment The constitution laid dead in his hold . A gleam seen in the judge’s eyes As he glances, quickly Behind glasses While guards escort The disrupter of courts To the unknown . All hail the corpse of freedom! Warranted from the lack of warnings All hell: The corporate companies cooperating In coup d’etats Disguised as peace keepings Offering the Sacrificial kings of Africa Offing the Head of state In a distasteful display of feardom Fear dominates The war on terrorism Military minions pillage the dominions Of the defenseless The final blow Screams Like the Final Call In the falling of an empire Protesters test the unrest And spread Words That are read In the weaving of our future Detention Sit-ins for those who Speak during class warfare Constitutions re-written To constitute illegal imprisonment Of free Speakers, Thinkers, And believers Citizens find it harder To not pay attention When the war in the Middle East Is fought in America Patriotic Acts to enact Unpatriotic actions That exact Hate on the coward-less fraction Surveillanced As if ass-kissing will ever be in option They’re warning us To stay sleep with the rest Those who awake Will meet a force Worse Than the crusades As they raid the houses Of our brothers, sisters, and Controversial, conspiracy contriving cousins They will come Like thieves in the night To undue The debt due to society The battle begins, And the Martyrs are ready.
Continue reading...
73