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"misrepresenting" poems
you don't like my words and when they escape unbidden through my ******* thumbs (they never would through my mouth) i cannot take them back without sending more words in their stead thus i keep finding myself in this situation where as i see each letter escape (my eyes with a look of terror down at my thumbs) i hear the sound of glass shatter and i think "no!" "words, please stay in my mind where you belong, until you have gone through filtering and levels of security!" "we don't know who you are yet!" "if you are a poem, we will know it, we will feel you churning, and we will not be horrified or ashamed at your revealing." "words, if you are our normal thoughts, you filter yourself nicely without leaving the body through vibrating tongue. of this we have always been proud." "but words, why, why, why?!?!?" "why do you act so rash and youthful and jump the fence and go straight to our thumbs to tap the virtual keys like some kind of punk?!" "of all the times, this is NOT the time to ramble on…unfiltered…like some kind of fool!" "brain - why aren't you helping us? we don't know how to restrain these words gone rogue… so out of character… unrefined and permanent." "we can feel you and you seem to be struck dumb - paralyzed - watching those ****** creatures scamper by like you can't stop them. and you know you should, brain! YOU KNOW as it is happening yet you do nothing! in fact, you seem to assist the thumbs in typing faster! what kind of wizardry is going on here?" "brain, you are misrepresenting this whole operation. please, for the love of the light, stop the thumbs! fix the chemical messengers, overhaul the whole structure if need be, just get control of your men, ******* it! it is these young words, full of vigor passion and life that cannot be trusted. squash them at ALL COST. refine them into poetry if you must but do not allow them to escape unfiltered and raw through a mobile device." "brain, words, thumbs…are we clear?!"
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Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 2:58 AM UTC
******* it (part 2)
you don't like my words and when they escape unbidden through my ******* thumbs (they never would through my mouth) i cannot take them back without sending more words in their stead thus i keep finding myself in this situation where as i see each letter escape (my eyes with a look of terror down at my thumbs) i hear the sound of glass shatter and i think "no!" "words, please stay in my mind where you belong, until you have gone through filtering and levels of security!" "we don't know who you are yet!" "if you are a poem, we will know it, we will feel you churning, and we will not be horrified or ashamed at your revealing." "words, if you are our normal thoughts, you filter yourself nicely without leaving the body through vibrating tongue. of this we have always been proud." "but words, why, why, why?!?!?" "why do you act so rash and youthful and jump the fence and go straight to our thumbs to tap the virtual keys like some kind of punk?!" "of all the times, this is NOT the time to ramble on…unfiltered…like some kind of fool!" "brain - why aren't you helping us? we don't know how to restrain these words gone rogue… so out of character… unrefined and permanent." "we can feel you and you seem to be struck dumb - paralyzed - watching those ****** creatures scamper by like you can't stop them. and you know you should, brain! YOU KNOW as it is happening yet you do nothing! in fact, you seem to assist the thumbs in typing faster! what kind of wizardry is going on here?" "brain, you are misrepresenting this whole operation. please, for the love of the light, stop the thumbs! fix the chemical messengers, overhaul the whole structure if need be, just get control of your men, ******* it! it is these young words, full of vigor passion and life that cannot be trusted. squash them at ALL COST. refine them into poetry if you must but do not allow them to escape unfiltered and raw through a mobile device." "brain, words, thumbs…are we clear?!"
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89
Interrupt me with a kiss Paralyze me with a smile 'Cause my words twist as they escape And I should just quiet for a while My actions, inaccurate And my lips, they betray Misrepresenting The love they're trusted to portray So just lie here with me Entangled and soundless Let my heart frolic free Around us, boundless Symphonies I'll write For you with my sighs Exquisite poems too With the love dancing in these eyes
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Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 9:18 PM UTC
Interrupt Me with a Kiss
When your tendons began to disintegrate from the weaves in the told tales and the luster of polished facades trembled at your piercing stare at the silenced waves retracting back from your shores to the stone tossed with the vision a visible indivisible shackles on a mask of tattered, thinning hairs sullied by fury, cowed by shunning torn from the host persona, misrepresenting. That was when you noticed your bare feet in the moonrise. And I was just returning from my long walk in them shoes.
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Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 8:28 AM UTC
Galaxia's grandma hug
All lives matter the madder I get At the matter of public opinion madness of this meteorological  rise Defies logic and the projects have become project For white bourgeois hipsters in tight pants Which maddens me further – Mothers in moccasins mobilize In Mobile, Alabama Misrepresenting the million man march As a method to success Monarchic movement Mitigated by the masses Is madness – Medicated and misguided muthafuckers Maligned and misinformed Marry in May during the full moon To better understand Mormon culture And the issues with lead In Flint, Michigan –
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Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 5:45 PM UTC
monday **M** poem
each cycle ends but i cannot pretend a part of me doesn’t pray to see your hand at the end create spaces for you to soak in my head misrepresenting everything in hopes of the best keep it quiet and only unravel in my diary keep it silent and pray nobody can see
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Jun 1, 2024
Jun 1, 2024 at 9:00 AM UTC
Soak
Turned around, fleeing, I run from conflict instead of facing it— a coward’s path born from a father’s shadow, steeped in generational abuse. A cycle vicious as a violent thunderstorm, striking bolts from the heavens in divine judgment, scorching my soul as if branded like cattle. A coat of arms twisted and contorted, misrepresenting values held in the present, yet fully defined in a past no longer recognizable to the progeny who is tired of running from Daddy’s failings. No, it is time to alter course, to charge headlong into the unknown abyss where a different fear lies in wait— the dread of becoming a carbon copy of his failings, their venom lurking like a stalking predator, starving and salivating at the thought of a fresh meal of unsuspecting me, tripping into the pit, unprepared to face demons and rewrite history, to forge a new heritage unblemished by cowardice, to rebuild a coat that accurately depicts who I have become while freed from the bane of paternity’s weaknesses, that led to his son’s pain. I stand up, pushing back against the dark, my light radiant like the summer sun at noon, casting glare over the shadows, causing them to flee in a terror once my own, no longer to darken the soul of a good man seeing beauty in all things— a revelation that I too can shine if given time to heal from past wounds, whose blood-streaked tears, now scabbed over and healed, leave only a faint scar of what was, a reminder to live in the present and build anew the love lost between father and son.
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Aug 8, 2025
Aug 8, 2025 at 1:20 PM UTC
Progenitors Curse
Turned around, fleeing, I run from conflict instead of facing it— a coward’s path born from a father’s shadow, steeped in generational abuse. A cycle vicious as a violent thunderstorm, striking bolts from the heavens in divine judgment, scorching my soul as if branded like cattle. A coat of arms twisted and contorted, misrepresenting values held in the present, yet fully defined in a past no longer recognizable to the progeny who is tired of running from Daddy’s failings. No, it is time to alter course, to charge headlong into the unknown abyss where a different fear lies in wait— the dread of becoming a carbon copy of his failings, their venom lurking like a stalking predator, starving and salivating at the thought of a fresh meal of unsuspecting me, tripping into the pit, unprepared to face demons and rewrite history, to forge a new heritage unblemished by cowardice, to rebuild a coat that accurately depicts who I have become while freed from the bane of paternity’s weaknesses, that led to his son’s pain. I stand up, pushing back against the dark, my light radiant like the summer sun at noon, casting glare over the shadows, causing them to flee in a terror once my own, no longer to darken the soul of a good man seeing beauty in all things— a revelation that I too can shine if given time to heal from past wounds, whose blood-streaked tears, now scabbed over and healed, leave only a faint scar of what was, a reminder to live in the present and build anew the love lost between father and son.
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72
misrepresenting my joy quotient as it seems I am living in a dumpster coated with grime and debris yesterday’s banana peelings moldy coffee grounds act like pepper flakes in my teeth unshorn and raggedy ripped jeans soot covered….. it’s just not the case as my cup runnith over – it is east of easy to ease into elation at least for me so when I find myself brooding I embrace the experience as an artist as a sculptor as a balanced human…. As I have a theory: every atom that creates energy which is anything in the known universe… is made up of both positively and negatively charged particles these particles are in balance or the whole thing falls apart (see nuclear fusion and fission)….. therefore, in order to be a balanced human we must embrace both the positive and negative aspects of life…. this marries itself to the idea perception is reality and what you perceive as negative for another, might be the bee’s knees in their eyes….. which means all balance is based off personal interpretation or good or bad plus or minus positive or negative… but Sam, what does this mean? if it feels wrong to you, don’t do it…. if it feels right, do it….. so long as these actions do not interfere with choices of the other humans you are guaranteed heaven on earth – I have lately been ending many social media postings with this gem: But seriously, what the **** do I know –
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May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 5:54 PM UTC
new philosophy, old philosophy