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"modified" poems
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say? ‘A posteriori’ leads the way For the extra and the ordinary Axiomatic sway, In the gravity of corollary, ‘A priori’ interplay Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation, As the innocence of dissonance delay. Practicing semantic contemplation, In willfully prevenient interpolation, Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray, Forecasts in vague extrapolation Contrasts the millennial contagion Already underway, Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves, To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves, A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves, Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves, Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves, A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves. The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates, An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states, Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates. Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates, Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates, Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates. An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion, Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion, The personable recluse fighting an illusion Breaking down the nuances of every institution. Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility, An opinionated adversary, to the realist without evidence, Theorizing in futility, Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community. Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified, Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified, Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide, Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide, Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified. Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity, As consequential regiments are expounded universally, To unstratify the residents indiscriminately And identify quantum elements spiritualistically, Changing collective behavior individually, Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
0
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
Paradoxical Tendencies
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say? ‘A posteriori’ leads the way For the extra and the ordinary Axiomatic sway, In the gravity of corollary, ‘A priori’ interplay Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation, As the innocence of dissonance delay. Practicing semantic contemplation, In willfully prevenient interpolation, Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray, Forecasts in vague extrapolation Contrasts the millennial contagion Already underway, Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves, To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves, A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves, Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves, Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves, A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves. The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates, An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states, Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates. Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates, Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates, Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates. An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion, Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion, The personable recluse fighting an illusion Breaking down the nuances of every institution. Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility, An opinionated adversary, to the realist without evidence, Theorizing in futility, Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community. Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified, Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified, Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide, Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide, Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified. Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity, As consequential regiments are expounded universally, To unstratify the residents indiscriminately And identify quantum elements spiritualistically, Changing collective behavior individually, Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
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47
if I got a poem out of every message I receive...ha!...I do... quite a bit upon to chew, but a request from her, to please ignore her weirdness, too juicy to pass unnoticed, because it goes to the heart of the mad matter 'tis that weirdness that I do so cherish, fully reflected in my own poem-children, my multiple identities, that the FBI is yet tracking give me your weirdness, yearning to be free, so my poems can be inscribed upon a crown and daughter adopted dear, that one crown, thy name, thy madness upon it etched, modified to rest easy upon thy temples <•> for Ali
0
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 11:26 AM UTC
"Please ignore my weirdness"
Oh Jamaican girl,where is your patois? where is your long dreads of natural hair? your culture? Jamaican girl,sing your country's national anthem How do you not like reggae? what kind of Jamaican are you? You see the ackee and codfish I stuffed down my throat on a Saturday morning would never be enough for them. My extinctive use of the English language made them sick at their guts The fact that my waistline won't move in such a manner to alarm others. Born in the Yard Grew up in the suburbs Never boastful;always grateful So Jamaican girl you try to act white on purpose? Wear 'American clothes' And perm your hair? My nationality will coexist throughout my veins Will never hit sunlight unless my tongue decides to move in that direction. Will never be ashamed of my heritage as I am proud of it,yet also modified to not be defined by it.
0
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 2:36 AM UTC
Jamaican girl
you can’t right the same poem twice hell, yes I can in pointy fact, only got one, which gets re-righted morning noon and evening-tide substitute a variant spelling wright vs write vs right and the meaning changes thrice *the only thing i can’t not duplicate is those **** love poems each unique and writ for the woman specific, each love one, custom jiggered, each poem, crafted, to her pulse each poem, drafted, to her scent none alike, and that’s why I believe in the god who commanded "create her" to make love poems in his way, gave me millions of veins, an extra ribbing, of inspiration to pray to... my heart altered, modified, daily* **** poems **** love poems **** love
0
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 10:18 PM UTC
you can’t right the same poem twice **** love poems)
my blood turns black in every puncture, steel goes in just, even faster, i do not care how they see me, i go to church even though you don't believe me, i may be modified and full of carvings, but my passion and care  will never vanish
0
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC
discrimination
you modified magic lantern incarnadine soul puppet show short dresses free cocktails little swords and big drama where we make love in the dressing room I watch you don the sheets and cut eye holes while I grab the light and radiate your behind the audience better not see that *** I’m protective of my baking flour *****
0
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 10:57 AM UTC
Act 1, Scene 2
Hindi (in Roman script) Kyon maine tumse pyaar kiya, Ye to mujhe pata nahin... Maine tum mein kya dekha tha, Ye bhi mujhe pata nahin... Kyon maine tumse pyaar kiya, Ye to mujhe pata nahin... English Why I loved you I don't know that... What I liked in you I don't know that... What I had seen in you I don't know that... I don't know that, I don't know that... Why I loved you I don't know that... I liked in you I don't know what...
0
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 6:06 AM UTC
Kyon Maine Tumhe Pyaar Kiya|Why Did I Love You (Modified Symphony)
One day I awoke, strangely to find the person I used to be gone, left behind Somewhere, somehow, I became someone new Who was much less like me, and a lot more like you The changes were subtle, I did not even know Until people asked me, just where did "you" go? It appears I gave up being me just to please the person I once proposed to from my knees But the strangest thing is, I did not even see the way you genetically, modified me I looked like the me, that everyone knew but instead of myself, to you I was true And now that I see it, and begin to turn back you're angry and bitter and start to attack You think that there's someone else I now see But don't see how that someone else can be me I don't like the person, with you I became It's not all your fault though, I'm partly to blame. And just as I let you make me not the same it is I that must choose my old self to reclaim So from now on my dear our ways we must part There's no place anymore for you in my heart I'll put myself first, be alone for a while Until I can look in the mirror and smile And see there once more who I used to be the reclaimed original version of me
0
Apr 10, 2010
Apr 10, 2010 at 11:45 AM UTC
Reclamation
*Over the centuries a transforming logo promoting and shaping our dance with coffee.. a seafaring birth fifteenth century siren exposed and sensuous twin-tailed mermaid.. her seductive history reached to Seattle with nautical theme.. one lasting effect many centuries told with modified modesty her crown remains.. this enduring connection upper and lower crown and creation transcends the coffee.. the logo reminds us: senses through time stimulate and attract crowned light above...*
0
Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 8:47 PM UTC
a STARBUCKS revisit
This planet orbits a yellow sun like ours. It is in the Optimum Zone to support life. Sure enough it has a wide variety of flora and fauna. Highly intelligent life has evolved in its seas and oceans. Its continents, however, are dominated by a species of primates. Over the past 300 of the planet’s years they have developed Some fairly high technology. But they remain carnivores Who regularly commit genocide. They cut down swathes of natural forest To grow chemically protected Genetically modified nutrition-sources. And they mine their planet empty Of its mineral riches. The planet’s ecosystem is being rapidly destroyed By them. Socially and psychologically they remain primitive. Yet they possess the means to blow their world To pieces. With heavy heart I have to advise We sign this planet “No Entry” For the foreseeable future. “Forbidden” indeed. A planet we call MW Orion 8478-3 That its natives call That ever so common name: “Earth”. Paul Butters
0
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 10:07 AM UTC
Forbidden Planet
My dream began with a pronoun waking in the morning light, followed by a verb carried in the wind from across the lake, as the adverb whispered a preposition, adjectives modified a proper noun, and I sailed quietly to your beautiful name
0
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
My Dream
Sometimes I wonder What my life would be like If I had never met you. Not in a spiteful way, Just out of curiosity. Would a new name replace The space You've reserved between my lips? Or would I still be out there, Counting time Between the ticks of my metal detector? Do you remember the metal detector? You know, I always was a treasure hunter. I don't think I ever told you this but, Before we met, I modified it a bit. I was tired of lugging it around, So I put it in my heart. This way, I had nothing weighing me down. I used that ****** thing for years. After a while, though, I got tired of metal. I only ever found scraps, anyway. So I modified it a bit more. Honestly, I barely made it out of that one intact, But it was worth it. This time, I was looking for love. I don't want to run this tangent Into the ground, But I guess what I really want to know is Would my heart ever beat that fast again?
0
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 9:18 AM UTC
The Metal Detector
[Verse] Tell these ******* I’m queen, tell these ******* I’m gold If you been where I’ve been, then you’d probably turn cold I give a **** ‘bout you ******* who got a problem with me I do **** for myself, nobody got it for me You got an issue with me, but you ain’t licensed to speak ‘Cause I be feedin’ the streets, your *** is nothin’ to me I’ve been hot with the lyrics and I’ve been dope with the fashion I said I want it I need, I done spoke, I take action And when you talkin’ I’m workin’, I’m gettin’ things I’m deservin’ But at a point I was hurtin’ and gettin’ nothin’ like virgins I be takin’ my time, I’m only twenty years old Nobody ****** with Coca, I tell them suckers “go home” ***** I’m hype ‘cause I’m certified, all my ******* qualified ****** with my team, finna get your face modified What you comin’ for me? I ain’t scared, fam’ I eat them J’s off your feet with my bare hands Stupid-ass ***** just stop ‘Cause I ain’t finna tolerate this **** you talk Unless the ***** a boss she gettin’ boxed They said Coca been on, and ***** you not I be ‘bout it but I ain’t the type to start **** Asian ***** never a fool, always some smart **** Who you playin’? I done learned the game Nobody teachin’ me **** ‘cause me and you not the same So get to suckin’ ***** you talk too much You get a bit of ****** fame, think you popular You twerkin’ for a name, ****** bought you stuff I make my own **** money, and I shop enough They say I lie about the **** I do Now you flexin’ ‘cause Coca ain’t ****** with you ***** swerve – I make moves, it’s the truth This the mafia, ***** – who you?
0
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
Mafia Freestyle
[Verse] Tell these ******* I’m queen, tell these ******* I’m gold If you been where I’ve been, then you’d probably turn cold I give a **** ‘bout you ******* who got a problem with me I do **** for myself, nobody got it for me You got an issue with me, but you ain’t licensed to speak ‘Cause I be feedin’ the streets, your *** is nothin’ to me I’ve been hot with the lyrics and I’ve been dope with the fashion I said I want it I need, I done spoke, I take action And when you talkin’ I’m workin’, I’m gettin’ things I’m deservin’ But at a point I was hurtin’ and gettin’ nothin’ like virgins I be takin’ my time, I’m only twenty years old Nobody ****** with Coca, I tell them suckers “go home” ***** I’m hype ‘cause I’m certified, all my ******* qualified ****** with my team, finna get your face modified What you comin’ for me? I ain’t scared, fam’ I eat them J’s off your feet with my bare hands Stupid-ass ***** just stop ‘Cause I ain’t finna tolerate this **** you talk Unless the ***** a boss she gettin’ boxed They said Coca been on, and ***** you not I be ‘bout it but I ain’t the type to start **** Asian ***** never a fool, always some smart **** Who you playin’? I done learned the game Nobody teachin’ me **** ‘cause me and you not the same So get to suckin’ ***** you talk too much You get a bit of ****** fame, think you popular You twerkin’ for a name, ****** bought you stuff I make my own **** money, and I shop enough They say I lie about the **** I do Now you flexin’ ‘cause Coca ain’t ****** with you ***** swerve – I make moves, it’s the truth This the mafia, ***** – who you?
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Beauty is power The words we teach our girls whipped mousse over the freckles along your temples will get you respect the zit under your chin will make you somebody to avoid for a month The rouge on your cheeks will make people think they've made you laugh each time you smile Taken more seriously under anonymity on cyberspace than to that same person talking to your face As the standards grow higher The modified faces and bodies of revlon and maybeline become tall tales in every sense The waistline is taken in to better display the shellac of that manicure why of course! as more and more voices go hoarse from taking out meals before in fear of a body to abhor when beauty is power and its concepts changing is it only to keep us from misbehaving>
0
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 5:05 AM UTC
Revelonation
When Ebola’s fever begins to rage, The prognosis isn’t nice, Monoclonal antibodies are needed from three mice. The mice must first become exposed to a weakened viral strain. Their antibodies harvested and combined with those of man. Strangely the proteins that we need are grown best in a **** A modified tobacco plant will do the job indeed. The serum, that derives from plants, had not had human trials. (but eight of ten young chimpanzees endorse what’s in that vial.) Our missionaries, sick unto death were clearly in no position to refuse to try the medicine that might provide remission. Their rebound was miraculous. To Atlanta now they fly. Man finds himself in debt to a mouse. “Good job, little guy!”
0
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 8:44 AM UTC
Of Men and Mice
We're stuck within these bodies that we're dying to change We are ashamed because we want to be different Modified. We cannot escape being called by "her" or "him" It may not seem like much, but titles matter, As do appearances. "I want to be this", I say "But you're not that." Society barks That. We crave to be that, The opposite of "who we are" We're stuck, truley We feel as if we can't escape this, containment, This restriction, This prohibition. That defines us. We didn't choose to be WHO we are, We didn't get a choice to become WHAT we are. I am a "he". I am a "her". We are confined to be one gender, "ourselves" How can we be ourselves if our looks are so decieving? Are we not judged by our outskirts? I want to be "that", On the outside I already am, on the inside Though, I'm jammed, Wedged, Lodged, Embedded, Fixed. We linger in these false corpses They burn at our courage and tear at our hearts They puncture and pierce and leave scars and bruises in our souls Because we cannot run from ourselves. When society is against us We remain still Immovable What can we do if our skin is a lie? I am a "he" on the inside, a "she" on the outside I am a "she" on the inside, a "he" on the outside I can't escape alone. I think I'm trapped
0
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
Trapped
whiteness is GMO genetically modified genocide like and from fascism psychologically modified historically modified purely incestuous time loop amphetamine attention span
0
Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC
GMO people
I gause now it is clearly visible Money makes the world go round… Majority would sell their soul for the love of money The money that would only last for their generation Being creative is not a sin… Copy and paste can cause damages that would take several decades to fix Engineering was the for the reason Though poor engineering design can cause some damages that can be redesigned and modified You let it go and you will suffer You intervene you are wrong you will be assassinated You spread the word and get ignored… Colonisation still exist Indirectly… Now it’s even worse Colonised by private individuals because he can afforded They land were they can jus like a cat They get to be protected People get to be question and uncertainty answer are the… Capital city road are in a mess Foreign country benefits The community suffer Fuel price goes up at the same rate as traffic congestion Closing all the freedom of travelling to work Depression gets agrivated Financial strain becomes a norm Fools are enjoying the fruits The greedy are on holiday The investors are making more deals The official know the bribery language better The nation is falling down The grow rate is stand still More and more labour strikes takes place The economy gets dragged on mud Consciousness people are disappointed Anger is boiling Crime is going to increase Drug use is a norm Opportunist are flying like scavengers Poor government is a shame It also affect those who are not political
0
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 2:48 AM UTC
MESSAGE FOR THE IGNORANT CITIZENS
I gause now it is clearly visible Money makes the world go round… Majority would sell their soul for the love of money The money that would only last for their generation Being creative is not a sin… Copy and paste can cause damages that would take several decades to fix Engineering was the for the reason Though poor engineering design can cause some damages that can be redesigned and modified You let it go and you will suffer You intervene you are wrong you will be assassinated You spread the word and get ignored… Colonisation still exist Indirectly… Now it’s even worse Colonised by private individuals because he can afforded They land were they can jus like a cat They get to be protected People get to be question and uncertainty answer are the… Capital city road are in a mess Foreign country benefits The community suffer Fuel price goes up at the same rate as traffic congestion Closing all the freedom of travelling to work Depression gets agrivated Financial strain becomes a norm Fools are enjoying the fruits The greedy are on holiday The investors are making more deals The official know the bribery language better The nation is falling down The grow rate is stand still More and more labour strikes takes place The economy gets dragged on mud Consciousness people are disappointed Anger is boiling Crime is going to increase Drug use is a norm Opportunist are flying like scavengers Poor government is a shame It also affect those who are not political
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39
on my better days I am a gypsy songbird addicted to dying my hair unnatural colors wearing too much jewelry & swaying my hips to the Counting Crows or Queens of the Stone Age on my scarier days I am a modified hermit addicted to hard liquor and coffee daydreaming about the things that will never be mine & blaring sad piano ballads about rotten, undignified, but true, true love on my normal days I am a mommy my son will be a year old on Sunday & he is my entire soul I am addicted to his dimples his laughter & watching him sleep if anyone were to ever tell a tale of the dear Latham girl, they would have to say "Well, didn't you know? Davy Martin saved his mama's life."
0
Feb 1, 2012
Feb 1, 2012 at 5:57 PM UTC
.Hey Davy, what do you think about lavender hair?.
hymn to Apollo by Michael R. Burch something of sunshine attracted my i as it lazed on the afternoon sky, golden, splashed on the easel of god; what, i thought, could this elfin stuff be, to, phantomlike, flit through tall trees on fall days, such as these? and the breeze whispered a dirge to the vanishing light; enchoired with the evening, it sang; its voice enchantedly rang chanting “Night!” . . . till all the bright light retired, expired. This poem appeared in my high school literary journal, the Lantern, so it was written by age 18, but probably around age 16 or 17. That was my "cummings" period. Keywords/Tags: sun, god, sunshine, Apollo, elfin, phantom, ghostly, magical, enchanted, bright, light, brilliant, sky, golden Moon Lake by Michael R. Burch Starlit recorder of summer nights, what magic spell bewitches you? They say that all lovers love first in the dark... Is it true? Is it true? Is it true? Starry-eyed seer of all that appears and all that has appeared— What sights have you seen? What dreams have you dreamed? What rhetoric have you heard? Is love an oration, or is it a word? Have you heard? Have you heard? Have you heard? I believe I wrote this poem in my late teens, during my “Romantic Period.” Tomb Lake by Michael R. Burch Go down to the valley where mockingbirds cry, alone, ever lonely . . . yes, go down to die. And dream in your dying you never shall wake. Go down to the valley; go down to Tomb Lake. Tomb Lake is a cauldron of souls such as yours — mad souls without meaning, frail souls without force. Tomb Lake is a graveyard reserved for the dead. They lie in her shallows and sleep in her bed. I believe this poem and "Moon Lake" were companion poems, written around my senior year in high school, in 1976. In addition to having similar titles, they had similar "staircase" indention styles. According to my notes, I modified "Moon Lake" two years later in 1978, at which time the poem was substantially finished. I then modified "Tomb Lake" in 1981, but must have forgotten about it, because I don't show that I ever submitted the poem for publication or did anything with it for more than 40 years. Keywords/Tags: Moon, Lake, Lakes, Water, Reflection, Reflections, Image, Imagery, Mirror, Magic, Magician, Seer, Prophet, Shaman, Spell, Spells, Enchantment, Sorcery, Bewitchment, Bewilderment, Incantation, Rhapsody, Love Talk, Love Potion
0
Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 4:20 AM UTC
hymn to Apollo
hymn to Apollo by Michael R. Burch something of sunshine attracted my i as it lazed on the afternoon sky, golden, splashed on the easel of god; what, i thought, could this elfin stuff be, to, phantomlike, flit through tall trees on fall days, such as these? and the breeze whispered a dirge to the vanishing light; enchoired with the evening, it sang; its voice enchantedly rang chanting “Night!” . . . till all the bright light retired, expired. This poem appeared in my high school literary journal, the Lantern, so it was written by age 18, but probably around age 16 or 17. That was my "cummings" period. Keywords/Tags: sun, god, sunshine, Apollo, elfin, phantom, ghostly, magical, enchanted, bright, light, brilliant, sky, golden Moon Lake by Michael R. Burch Starlit recorder of summer nights, what magic spell bewitches you? They say that all lovers love first in the dark... Is it true? Is it true? Is it true? Starry-eyed seer of all that appears and all that has appeared— What sights have you seen? What dreams have you dreamed? What rhetoric have you heard? Is love an oration, or is it a word? Have you heard? Have you heard? Have you heard? I believe I wrote this poem in my late teens, during my “Romantic Period.” Tomb Lake by Michael R. Burch Go down to the valley where mockingbirds cry, alone, ever lonely . . . yes, go down to die. And dream in your dying you never shall wake. Go down to the valley; go down to Tomb Lake. Tomb Lake is a cauldron of souls such as yours — mad souls without meaning, frail souls without force. Tomb Lake is a graveyard reserved for the dead. They lie in her shallows and sleep in her bed. I believe this poem and "Moon Lake" were companion poems, written around my senior year in high school, in 1976. In addition to having similar titles, they had similar "staircase" indention styles. According to my notes, I modified "Moon Lake" two years later in 1978, at which time the poem was substantially finished. I then modified "Tomb Lake" in 1981, but must have forgotten about it, because I don't show that I ever submitted the poem for publication or did anything with it for more than 40 years. Keywords/Tags: Moon, Lake, Lakes, Water, Reflection, Reflections, Image, Imagery, Mirror, Magic, Magician, Seer, Prophet, Shaman, Spell, Spells, Enchantment, Sorcery, Bewitchment, Bewilderment, Incantation, Rhapsody, Love Talk, Love Potion
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58
____ Little leonard Lion, decided to attend the Upcoming Town meeting with an Open mind about the Subjects that were to be Discussed. Many Times in the Past, Little Leonard along with others of his Thinking, Especially, Anthony Ant and Roxanne Roach, Went to the Town Meetings with the Attitude of "Cautious-Listening".. MANY Times the Town Meetings, conducted by the Town Upper-Layers and their *Chief, Wendall Waglips, had NOT stuck entirely to issues , BUT rather Modified them. SO, that the Credits due to the *Proper Provider, were Instead directed to Themselves ! Waglips and his Upper Layers had announced the Upcoming meeting would be a *Revelation of NEW Ideas and Plans ! Needles to say, Leonard Lion, Anthony Ant and Roxanne Roach Could Hardly wait ! As they sat on the edges of their seats, to hear the Proclamations that Wendall and the Upper Layers would be SWEETLY offering up to the Audience of " Fully Attentive" Listeners . Waglips approached the Podium of Announcement, Stood behind it, Grabbed both sides at the top, Leaned forward toward the microphone,____With a Self made Smile and his Attitudinal Voice, Began the Ritual of Proclamations; #1= A Decree you will accept with Glee. #2= When I Condone and accept it as the Known. #3= Should you disagree, DON'T bring it to me ! #4= What is Laid out, ACCEPT it or get Out. #5= The LAWS are on the Walls in the Halls,,BUT__DON'T Loiter in the Halls. Waglips continued His Finale , "These are for Your benefit and I am sure You agree, That each of you they will fit ! These NEW rules we've SPOKEN for your Wellbeing for the Residents of this Town ! _____Leonard, Anthony and Roxanne Looked at each other and glanced around at the 2500 attendees ! As a Megaphone was Placed in Leonards hand! He Repeatedly Shouted out ! "JOIN ME IN THE HALLS "... So, whats in store for those who stayed in their seat and "DID-NOT" heed the Boldness of the VOICE ,calling them to the Halls ?
0
Jan 20, 2011
Jan 20, 2011 at 3:35 AM UTC
* " SPOKEN VOICES " * ( #49 )
____ Little leonard Lion, decided to attend the Upcoming Town meeting with an Open mind about the Subjects that were to be Discussed. Many Times in the Past, Little Leonard along with others of his Thinking, Especially, Anthony Ant and Roxanne Roach, Went to the Town Meetings with the Attitude of "Cautious-Listening".. MANY Times the Town Meetings, conducted by the Town Upper-Layers and their *Chief, Wendall Waglips, had NOT stuck entirely to issues , BUT rather Modified them. SO, that the Credits due to the *Proper Provider, were Instead directed to Themselves ! Waglips and his Upper Layers had announced the Upcoming meeting would be a *Revelation of NEW Ideas and Plans ! Needles to say, Leonard Lion, Anthony Ant and Roxanne Roach Could Hardly wait ! As they sat on the edges of their seats, to hear the Proclamations that Wendall and the Upper Layers would be SWEETLY offering up to the Audience of " Fully Attentive" Listeners . Waglips approached the Podium of Announcement, Stood behind it, Grabbed both sides at the top, Leaned forward toward the microphone,____With a Self made Smile and his Attitudinal Voice, Began the Ritual of Proclamations; #1= A Decree you will accept with Glee. #2= When I Condone and accept it as the Known. #3= Should you disagree, DON'T bring it to me ! #4= What is Laid out, ACCEPT it or get Out. #5= The LAWS are on the Walls in the Halls,,BUT__DON'T Loiter in the Halls. Waglips continued His Finale , "These are for Your benefit and I am sure You agree, That each of you they will fit ! These NEW rules we've SPOKEN for your Wellbeing for the Residents of this Town ! _____Leonard, Anthony and Roxanne Looked at each other and glanced around at the 2500 attendees ! As a Megaphone was Placed in Leonards hand! He Repeatedly Shouted out ! "JOIN ME IN THE HALLS "... So, whats in store for those who stayed in their seat and "DID-NOT" heed the Boldness of the VOICE ,calling them to the Halls ?
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Moon Lake by Michael R. Burch Starlit recorder of summer nights, what magic spell bewitches you? They say that all lovers love first in the dark... Is it true? Is it true? Is it true? Starry-eyed seer of all that appears and all that has appeared— What sights have you seen? What dreams have you dreamed? What rhetoric have you heard? Is love an oration, or is it a word? Have you heard? Have you heard? Have you heard? I believe I wrote this poem in my late teens, during my “Romantic Period.” Tomb Lake by Michael R. Burch Go down to the valley where mockingbirds cry, alone, ever lonely . . . yes, go down to die. And dream in your dying you never shall wake. Go down to the valley; go down to Tomb Lake. Tomb Lake is a cauldron of souls such as yours — mad souls without meaning, frail souls without force. Tomb Lake is a graveyard reserved for the dead. They lie in her shallows and sleep in her bed. I believe this poem and "Moon Lake" were companion poems, written around my senior year in high school, in 1976. In addition to having similar titles, they had similar "staircase" indention styles. According to my notes, I modified "Moon Lake" two years later in 1978, at which time the poem was substantially finished. I then modified "Tomb Lake" in 1981, but must have forgotten about it, because I don't show that I ever submitted the poem for publication or did anything with it for more than 40 years. Keywords/Tags: Moon, Lake, Lakes, Water, Reflection, Reflections, Image, Imagery, Mirror, Magic, Magician, Seer, Prophet, Shaman, Spell, Spells, Enchanted, Enchantment, Sorcery, Bewitchment, Bewilderment, Incantation, Rhapsody, Love Talk, Love Potion, Romance, First Love, Dark, Dreams
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Feb 23, 2020
Feb 23, 2020 at 12:31 AM UTC
Moon Lake
Moon Lake by Michael R. Burch Starlit recorder of summer nights, what magic spell bewitches you? They say that all lovers love first in the dark... Is it true? Is it true? Is it true? Starry-eyed seer of all that appears and all that has appeared— What sights have you seen? What dreams have you dreamed? What rhetoric have you heard? Is love an oration, or is it a word? Have you heard? Have you heard? Have you heard? I believe I wrote this poem in my late teens, during my “Romantic Period.” Tomb Lake by Michael R. Burch Go down to the valley where mockingbirds cry, alone, ever lonely . . . yes, go down to die. And dream in your dying you never shall wake. Go down to the valley; go down to Tomb Lake. Tomb Lake is a cauldron of souls such as yours — mad souls without meaning, frail souls without force. Tomb Lake is a graveyard reserved for the dead. They lie in her shallows and sleep in her bed. I believe this poem and "Moon Lake" were companion poems, written around my senior year in high school, in 1976. In addition to having similar titles, they had similar "staircase" indention styles. According to my notes, I modified "Moon Lake" two years later in 1978, at which time the poem was substantially finished. I then modified "Tomb Lake" in 1981, but must have forgotten about it, because I don't show that I ever submitted the poem for publication or did anything with it for more than 40 years. Keywords/Tags: Moon, Lake, Lakes, Water, Reflection, Reflections, Image, Imagery, Mirror, Magic, Magician, Seer, Prophet, Shaman, Spell, Spells, Enchanted, Enchantment, Sorcery, Bewitchment, Bewilderment, Incantation, Rhapsody, Love Talk, Love Potion, Romance, First Love, Dark, Dreams
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Circe by Michael R. Burch She spoke and her words were like a ringing echo dying or like smoke rising and drifting while the earth below is spinning. She awoke with a cry from a dream that had no ending, without hope or strength to rise, into hopelessness descending. And an ache in her heart toward that dream, retreating, left a wake of small waves in circles never completing. Originally published by Romantics Quarterly Keywords/Tags: Circe, enigma, enigmatic, enchantress, siren, enchanted, witch, goddess, magic, Ulysses, pigs, sty Moon Lake by Michael R. Burch Starlit recorder of summer nights, what magic spell bewitches you? They say that all lovers love first in the dark... Is it true? Is it true? Is it true? Starry-eyed seer of all that appears and all that has appeared— What sights have you seen? What dreams have you dreamed? What rhetoric have you heard? Is love an oration, or is it a word? Have you heard? Have you heard? Have you heard? I believe I wrote this poem in my late teens, during my “Romantic Period.” Tomb Lake by Michael R. Burch Go down to the valley where mockingbirds cry, alone, ever lonely . . . yes, go down to die. And dream in your dying you never shall wake. Go down to the valley; go down to Tomb Lake. Tomb Lake is a cauldron of souls such as yours — mad souls without meaning, frail souls without force. Tomb Lake is a graveyard reserved for the dead. They lie in her shallows and sleep in her bed. I believe this poem and "Moon Lake" were companion poems, written around my senior year in high school, in 1976. In addition to having similar titles, they had similar "staircase" indention styles. According to my notes, I modified "Moon Lake" two years later in 1978, at which time the poem was substantially finished. I then modified "Tomb Lake" in 1981, but must have forgotten about it, because I don't show that I ever submitted the poem for publication or did anything with it for more than 40 years. Keywords/Tags: Moon, Lake, Lakes, Water, Reflection, Reflections, Image, Imagery, Mirror, Magic, Magician, Seer, Prophet, Shaman, Spell, Spells, Enchantment, Sorcery, Bewitchment, Bewilderment, Incantation, Rhapsody, Love Talk, Love Potion
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Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 4:47 AM UTC
Circe
Circe by Michael R. Burch She spoke and her words were like a ringing echo dying or like smoke rising and drifting while the earth below is spinning. She awoke with a cry from a dream that had no ending, without hope or strength to rise, into hopelessness descending. And an ache in her heart toward that dream, retreating, left a wake of small waves in circles never completing. Originally published by Romantics Quarterly Keywords/Tags: Circe, enigma, enigmatic, enchantress, siren, enchanted, witch, goddess, magic, Ulysses, pigs, sty Moon Lake by Michael R. Burch Starlit recorder of summer nights, what magic spell bewitches you? They say that all lovers love first in the dark... Is it true? Is it true? Is it true? Starry-eyed seer of all that appears and all that has appeared— What sights have you seen? What dreams have you dreamed? What rhetoric have you heard? Is love an oration, or is it a word? Have you heard? Have you heard? Have you heard? I believe I wrote this poem in my late teens, during my “Romantic Period.” Tomb Lake by Michael R. Burch Go down to the valley where mockingbirds cry, alone, ever lonely . . . yes, go down to die. And dream in your dying you never shall wake. Go down to the valley; go down to Tomb Lake. Tomb Lake is a cauldron of souls such as yours — mad souls without meaning, frail souls without force. Tomb Lake is a graveyard reserved for the dead. They lie in her shallows and sleep in her bed. I believe this poem and "Moon Lake" were companion poems, written around my senior year in high school, in 1976. In addition to having similar titles, they had similar "staircase" indention styles. According to my notes, I modified "Moon Lake" two years later in 1978, at which time the poem was substantially finished. I then modified "Tomb Lake" in 1981, but must have forgotten about it, because I don't show that I ever submitted the poem for publication or did anything with it for more than 40 years. Keywords/Tags: Moon, Lake, Lakes, Water, Reflection, Reflections, Image, Imagery, Mirror, Magic, Magician, Seer, Prophet, Shaman, Spell, Spells, Enchantment, Sorcery, Bewitchment, Bewilderment, Incantation, Rhapsody, Love Talk, Love Potion
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I rarely get on Facebook anymore. But when I do, I'll change my profile picture or banner-- maybe post a witty status update, maybe not witty, just something to let people know I'm alive. It's like repositioning the arms on a stationary mannequin to depict a different scene. Except lately I just don't care anymore. It's just that-- a mannequin. An object, an image, a lifeless entity with which I used to feel real-- a dusty mirror. I see that the line between the idea of a person and the reality is being blurred and crossing over into something all-together different. It's as if people are starting to wake up and realize the objectivity of their reality. But that brings into question the basis for which we define reality. We have become a, “Look but don't touch” society in which we click a button to show our appreciation as opposed to genuinely reciprocating human emotion and energy. It is extremely isolating and dangerous. Packed subways and sidewalks have fallen eerily silent with faces illuminated by their cellphones. Most everyone wants to be heard, appreciated and recognized and social media has provided an outlet for that. But there comes a point at which your platform becomes your prison and your voice your warden-- and everything you say is modified to be pleasing to the ear and 'likeable'. But I like dislikes. And if you're not ******* anyone off-- you're probably not doing anything important, and if you're not outraged you're not paying attention.
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Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 6:15 PM UTC
On Networking...
I rarely get on Facebook anymore. But when I do, I'll change my profile picture or banner-- maybe post a witty status update, maybe not witty, just something to let people know I'm alive. It's like repositioning the arms on a stationary mannequin to depict a different scene. Except lately I just don't care anymore. It's just that-- a mannequin. An object, an image, a lifeless entity with which I used to feel real-- a dusty mirror. I see that the line between the idea of a person and the reality is being blurred and crossing over into something all-together different. It's as if people are starting to wake up and realize the objectivity of their reality. But that brings into question the basis for which we define reality. We have become a, “Look but don't touch” society in which we click a button to show our appreciation as opposed to genuinely reciprocating human emotion and energy. It is extremely isolating and dangerous. Packed subways and sidewalks have fallen eerily silent with faces illuminated by their cellphones. Most everyone wants to be heard, appreciated and recognized and social media has provided an outlet for that. But there comes a point at which your platform becomes your prison and your voice your warden-- and everything you say is modified to be pleasing to the ear and 'likeable'. But I like dislikes. And if you're not ******* anyone off-- you're probably not doing anything important, and if you're not outraged you're not paying attention.
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piercing my right eye from within daggers, sharpened with blame fly true through the blue into faces of lying dry-cleaned faces puffed and crimson spittle gathering hate speech teachings reaching beaches far from informed shores – new ***** blesses the young shoveling modified nutrients smiles beam glistening sweat runs internal furnace matching warm glow of planned dumbing-down vaccination zombie mercury poisoned baby rocks silently – embryonic images in laboratory dishes sample size offering a slight variance right-wing politicians eagerly await the first course stem-cell soufflé desperation sets in as reality takes hold the shift already happened – glancing at a dime-store wristwatch plotting an afternoon of debauchery slowing pulling off the square admiring the show -
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Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 11:36 AM UTC
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