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"motivational" poems
Avuncular in his style, jolly and loud An epiphany with an entourage Of functionaries who survey the crowd For any lack of enthusiasm Applaud they must, wearing upon command Cheap slogan tees averring that their school Is like totally awesome and ‘way cool They leap and bounce and cheer as they are told Chanting a theme, this year’s predictable theme Desperately cute, a motivational meme - Oh, those childish, subservient creatures! The worst part is that they are the                                                                    teachers
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Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 7:57 PM UTC
Dear Leader Inspires His Obedient Comrades
Negativity is nothing more than lack of assurance and doubt This is what this lesson in helping you to work out It means take negativity and build into positivity Think on Negativity being only a set back in how one feels Usually, Negativity comes from Negativity given It surrounds people that project Negativity because of circumstances that happened in one’s life They are the one’s that always sees negativity, but never work in seeing life as positivity You must look beyond your depressed thoughts, and suggest positivity That negativity causes people to not succeed Negativity becomes like a forbidden flood needing to reseed A person is focusing on someone else’s feed But negativity has no place face to face In fact, it’s all a waste The energy that one stresses on negativity, could be utilized on constructive positivity Negativity is a barrier like a detour, but you are only staying in one place No movement in a hopeful pace If you say today, the response would be tomorrow But what one is saying, they are drowning on sorrow Negativity is mental, but one must move into motivational Motivational is the action that will start you on your way Negative people now should be your getaway This is your lesson for today Go and achieve in every way Live on every day
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Jul 17, 2020
Jul 17, 2020 at 6:04 AM UTC
NEGATIVITY BECOMES A CHANGE IN THE LESSON
Welcome to the con! The con starts with the author, Dr. Seuss. He's no doctor.  And that's a fact (and no it's not the only truthful thing in this diatribe of mine).  He used the doctor moniker to sell more books!        That guy in the book pestering the other guy to try "Green Eggs and Ham"? Turns out to be the ham and egg salesman, Sam I Am.   It's a motivational selling "won't take no for an answer" how to sell book disguised as children's literature.     And Sam I Am is psychotically relentless in his pursuit of a sale.  He needs a restraining order slapped on his ***                    "Would you eat them in a box? Would                     you eat them with a fox. Would you eat                     them with a goat.  Would you eat them on a                      boat".  Would you eat green eggs and ham,                     would you eat them Sam I Am?                                                                         Dr. Seuss And on and on. Sam I Am goes stalking him from page to page.        I had a friend of mine, Mustard Joe, ex war veteran with more than twenty kills (you don't even want to know the things he's seen) take a look into this green eggs and ham food source that Sam I Am is pushing so hard.  Here are some of the ingredients he may or may not have found.                                 Ham   --        30 grams of sugar (questionable )                          --       15 grams of caffeine (untested)                                Green eggs   --          Trace amounts of nicotine ( not verified)                         --          Handfuls of ******* (rumored) As you can see, It's not an exact science. People. When eggs turn green, that's mother nature trying to warn you that your food has gone bad.    But in the end, Sam I Am gets the fool to finally try the green eggs and ham and he absolutely loves it.  Maybe the books lesson   is about to not be afraid about things you don't understand or never tried. But I still believe there is insidious deception and evil in the book. I have to think that way.  Because after all -- I'm Willoughby !!
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Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 12:12 PM UTC
The Truth about the Book "Green Eggs and Ham".
Welcome to the con! The con starts with the author, Dr. Seuss. He's no doctor.  And that's a fact (and no it's not the only truthful thing in this diatribe of mine).  He used the doctor moniker to sell more books!        That guy in the book pestering the other guy to try "Green Eggs and Ham"? Turns out to be the ham and egg salesman, Sam I Am.   It's a motivational selling "won't take no for an answer" how to sell book disguised as children's literature.     And Sam I Am is psychotically relentless in his pursuit of a sale.  He needs a restraining order slapped on his ***                    "Would you eat them in a box? Would                     you eat them with a fox. Would you eat                     them with a goat.  Would you eat them on a                      boat".  Would you eat green eggs and ham,                     would you eat them Sam I Am?                                                                         Dr. Seuss And on and on. Sam I Am goes stalking him from page to page.        I had a friend of mine, Mustard Joe, ex war veteran with more than twenty kills (you don't even want to know the things he's seen) take a look into this green eggs and ham food source that Sam I Am is pushing so hard.  Here are some of the ingredients he may or may not have found.                                 Ham   --        30 grams of sugar (questionable )                          --       15 grams of caffeine (untested)                                Green eggs   --          Trace amounts of nicotine ( not verified)                         --          Handfuls of ******* (rumored) As you can see, It's not an exact science. People. When eggs turn green, that's mother nature trying to warn you that your food has gone bad.    But in the end, Sam I Am gets the fool to finally try the green eggs and ham and he absolutely loves it.  Maybe the books lesson   is about to not be afraid about things you don't understand or never tried. But I still believe there is insidious deception and evil in the book. I have to think that way.  Because after all -- I'm Willoughby !!
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There comes a point in your life when you dont understand what will happen the very next moment. When every single second astonishes you, when every other happening around you makes you question everything that you have ever done, every decision that you ever took, every path you ever choose, each word that you ever uttered. When there is darkness all around you and no hope of light. When all the motivational quotes of "finding a ray of light; hope, at the end of the tunnel", becomes as fictional as the world of potter. But we still wait, yet we search for that fictitious light everytime, every second, every moment. Do you know why? Because nothing in this world is stronger than your wishes, your passion, and your desire to get something that you want. Believe in yourself and you will find your hogwarts one day.
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Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 2:09 PM UTC
Hogwarts of Dreams
Looking in the mirror wishing you could change Knowing it will be a process, but results are in range Feeling like you cannot breathe, telling yourself it's okay Touching your heart and knowing it will push you, and stay It is okay to feel tired, to feel worn down That does not mean give up, that means stick around It is hard to be in a newly routine but your mind is there to help Do not let the darkness take over for even a second You may want to quit, but today is not the day Get up and realize your worth, this is for you and you only So lose your energy in something that will make you better It is better to have a healthier half than to be a shadow lonely Stay Strong
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Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 3:38 PM UTC
Motivational Speaker
Corina Junghiatu is a bilingual poet/writer hailing from Romania. She holds a Master Degree in Philology and Phychopedagogy and likewise she graduated from The Faculty of Letters and Philosophy in Bucharest. She speaks five foreign languages. Corina has written and publishing two books of poetry: „Exile in the light” and „The ritual of a Sunrise”. She is Administrator and Publication Coordinator of Motivational Strips, editor of "Bharath Vision" website, and Chief Advisor of World Nations Writers' Union Kazakhstan. Corina has won many awards from international institutions of repute, for poetry. Recently, Corina Junghiatu, together with 350 poets and writers from 80 countries, received a certificate of appreciation for her entire literary activity, on the occasion of the 74th anniversary of the Independence Day of the Republic of India. This certificate was was handed by the famous writer Shiju H. Pallithazheth the Founder of Motivational Strips, World's Most Active Writers Forum and Padma Shree Dr. Vishnu Pandya, President of Gujarat Sahitya Akademy, a government institution of the state of Gujarat (India).
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Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 10:45 AM UTC
Corina Junghiatu awarded by Motivational Strips and Gujarat Sahitya Akademy.
I am not depressed I’m just deflated Out of style and over-dressed At second-best, I’m overrated An old birthday balloon (Out of breath, somewhat bated) I hum my jingles out of tune One-hit-wonders soon outdated Like a song without sound Mourning a muted meltdown I’m at the point of no concern For my inability to yearn I am - Whatever comes after The past, the future The cries, and the laughter I remain – Whatever came before The purple rain, the midnight train The ****** and the ***** I am a pixelated painting Understood by few Inexplicably containing Little drops of you You’re my middle C A sepia photograph Of my mundane eulogy And my previous epitaph You are my bitter half The gall in my bladder My nervous laugh My endless chatter You’re my history rewritten My once shy, twice-bitten My state-of-the-art You’re the bottom of my heart The top of my lungs You’re my talking in tongues The motivational quote In my suicide note And although I’ll never be free From this heart on my sleeve I’ll always wish you to be The Adam to my Eve.
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Nov 3, 2011
Nov 3, 2011 at 2:18 AM UTC
I am not depressed
I was raised by a loving, graceful, god loving, homeade cooking wonderful "I'll always be there for you" type of family. Some gorilla strength, motivating, always looking after me and the "Don't question me" types of brothers. Some church going motivational speaking smart and artistic "Ask me anything" type of pastors. Some Jazz and Rock music to calm me down and freestyle dancing, the funny dude "Who doesn't give a crap about what people think" type of guy. Some energetic bouncing off of walls and athletic not caring that I'm big saying nice things being called a charmer The "I can't hate. But I can love" type of friend In a discriminating racial saying world who won't listen to you or see what's underneath, I stand and shout "I'm better than you" because..... I was raised like a gentleman
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May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 2:07 AM UTC
Raised as a Gentleman
one of my friends is adored by everyone he knows the kind of kid who smiles all the time who can always make anyone laugh always has something motivational and upbeat to say or sing once we were sitting in English class talking about change and it was quiet between us for a minute so I said watching people die is hard and he said yeah, it is and I didn't tell him about my grandfather who had cancer and died in my house a week later or my grandmother who lost her mind eight years ago and slowly deteriorates each day or my aunt who had her first open-heart surgery when she was fifteen and is now a bloated skeleton who lingers in wheelchairs and doesn't sleep and hallucinates or my second cousin who only knows all the "wrong" sorts of people or my friend who is breaking slowly, who I cannot fix I didn't tell him because I'd never heard three simple words like that overflowing with so much empathy
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Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 5:31 AM UTC
empathy
when self-inflicted or as counter, the adrenaline is missing; mind you the hara-kiri: the sudden thrill,                     the sudden attack! it paces the heart differently from a belief in a self... the heart paces differently, it's an entire revisionist sub-plot of the book of genesis; it almost makes Dante pigeon-shit. that's the problem with suicide it's hardly adrenaline ensured surprising, the predestination of it being all top surprising as motivational to provide us a new Cain of the future... rightfully i'd rather be stunned into a shock of adrenaline by a murderer, than by injection of overpowering myself: the adrenaline missing in suicide is the real philosophical issue... the adrenaline missing due to premonition, the lack of shock... suicide in philosophical debate is pure chemistry: to commit suicide is to devolve chemically without the required boiling points or infusions of: suddenly.
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May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 10:45 PM UTC
the Adrenaline missing in Suicide
peoples mouth's open and close i see there lips moving and expressions on the face I don't hear anything? blah blah blah never real words no, i am not deaf sounds fill space but nothing worthwhile connects wireless communication. instant messaging. one button dial things are loved people are purposely overlooked and used money wasted on motivational speaking hours convincing the self: "i am right they need a lesson" make believe bandages running with harness love exchanged for Pandoras box if I only knew then what I knew now, would have chosen.... wishes are well intended feathers on the wind God catches them at the end of the world he reads them with water filled eyes original sin we all followed loud and proud foolish Independence we all assume to want the same, mostly love, how come? we give up in a whimper, lack of endurance? how colder the storm greater the harvest - grandpa a soul desperate for salvation and peace yet, motivated to strive follow the curve in the walls, feel it, listen ,it speaks breath breath breath you will touch light eventually or die trying
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Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 3:52 AM UTC
blah blah blah blah
Do you want to feel better? Then stop playing the victim Start acting like a survivor. Even if your gut And heart Are telling you it's hopeless. Your brain is an ***** and a muscle. It keeps you alive. And it works if you work it. Your heart and your gut can heal If you eat right and get outside. Begin taking care of yourself. Set limits for others, And be kind when It's mutually beneficial. Then sometimes when it's not. And when you feel great, Do that a lot. Soon you will teach someone else To be a survivor And then you become A thriver. Peace and joy Together Comes only To those who have earned it For themselves.
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May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 8:17 AM UTC
motivational locker room speech (sans football)
Warming up like an electric orchestra, the sound of your dad’s band practice seeped through the vents from the basement. Drums vibrated from the floor into my feet, And we tapped our toes together, thump thump thump. Drowning out the 80’s punk, your mom plays polka in the kitchen, making pasta. I stand over the sauce stained stove watching the *** of water sizzle to accordion cries and the idea of clogs. We sway from side to side. Your hands hang off my hips. Retreating, back to your blue room, we wait for the wafting smells of garlic, grilled onions and peppers to call us for dinner. You pull out your keyboard, a pen, a pad. Pressing buttons, I hear synthesizers and song samples through your headphones. We smile, bobbing our heads in sync, Bump, bump, bump. ~ Finding myself in a foreign living room, I am alone. The TV is on mute and a “motivational” speech muffles through his speakers. There are no basement bands. No pasta, no polka, or clogs and cries. Only sounds of silence. I press my feet against the floor. I can’t hear the bumps, I can’t feel the thumps
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Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 2:18 PM UTC
Polka & 80's Punk
I'm a middle aged man with a menopause d mind, striving hard to make the ends meet, struggling to set myself straight, against the raising concerns from my boss for not thinking out of box, dearest wife, that I no longer love her the way it was, my junior that I don't spare him time for a online game, One or other almost everyone around had a concern or a claim, On a thoughtful evening browsing some motivational videos on net, I discover my mantra "Sweetheart Relax" from a famous Art of living guru, Determined to surprise all, I keep it  a secret, In no time, I adopted it and started using it here and there, left and right, Struck in traffic badly and there is no cop to clear it for a long ! "Sweetheart Relax", The Driver behind you honks too loud, despite the fact that it is a long traffic jam! Sweet heart Relax! On site team calls for a talk late in the evening for which you to skip your dinner date with wife,Sweetheart Relax! The newly wed tenant couple fights it out all the night and it did not let you catch some sleep, Sweetheart Relax! It started working good, even in dreams I started murmuring "Sweetheart Relax" week went on, finally weekend has arrived! In the middle of night on Sunday! My wife wakes me up with kids in front, takes my hand and placing on my little angles head says, Swear by the Kid! that you would tell us the truth how long is this going on? who is this Sweetheart? why should she relax? Guess what ? I said "Sweetheart Relax"!
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Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 9:26 AM UTC
Sweet Heart Relax ...
Like people are rewarded in public for what the practiced by themselves for years... Walk into life with the acceptance that it is not going to be given to you... Quit making ******* excuses.... these are only you showcasing your faults.... GREATNESS is not earned like a paycheck.... merely allowed to escape from the fear that held it back..... If failure makes you quit then to succeed at your craft never truly lived within.... Death is a part of life and to live never meant a lifetime a minute can be spent LIVING.... HOLD NO ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR FAILURES BECAUSE YOU WILL NEVER GIVE CREDIT TO ANYONE FOR YOUR SUCCESS..... When standing on the path of greatness haters will only throw storms of "you cant" and "you wont" in your face..... Brace yourself stand where you are...... You don't have to move forward but DONT move back..... PAIN can and will be the greatest asset to your vision don't let it anchor you to mediocrity.... WHEN you finally die leave no room for regret I can only hope as I go only happy memories of independent growth flash before my eyes... PASS it on there is never a cap for greatness it can live forever DO NOT let it die with you.... SUCCESS CANNOT BE MEASURED BY ANYONE BUT YOU IF YOU ARE TRYING TO SUCCEED FOR OTHERS YOU WILL FAIL....
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Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 11:45 PM UTC
Motivational belief....
Forcing an alignment of corporate resources for some theory of best fit correlation doesn't work on Kingdom People when using an unspoken method of tabulation. If Life is about true spiritual growth, then why do ministries attempt to pigeon-hole not making any allowances for us to develop, expand and break our current mold? Despite multitudes of outcome possibilities the Church seems to suffer bouts of paralysis from the continued mashing of talents and gifts resulting from unexplained Presbyterian analysis. There are many ministry leaders who speak of vision - Their tone indicates that the laity is completely blind and numb; their message is clear - the Body is not interested to reach the Earth before Kingdom Come. We are souls with great, untapped potential and not just elements of an array. Despite our abilities and life experiences, our dreams and desires we're not allowed to convey. For a failure of Church motivational tricks comes from cramming God's People into a human matrix. Author Notes: From the book: Reaching Towards His Unbounded Glory The ISBN is: 1-4196-5051-3 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2006, All rights reserved.
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Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 7:19 AM UTC
Poem: Human Matrix
”Tell me about love.” I can define it, I can recommend books, I can list the symptoms and effects, I can prattle off agape, philios, storge and eros. I can recite a poem, or a sonnet by Shakespeare, but I can’t describe it. “Tell me about loss.” I can see it, I can observe it, I can sympathize with it, I can parrot motivational phrases, I can list coping mechanisms and techniques, but I can’t mean it. “Tell me about life.” I live it, I know of it, I can speak of its origins, I can tell stories of its endings, I can watch it go by, try to find meaning in it, but I can’t embrace it.
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Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
Experience
i believe that there lives a counterpart of me in Spain and in France - equally critical - not me per se, but two individuals to compensate my efforts in England, Eastern European, hell-bent to overtax the happy meal and frozen foods for "the busy lives of 21st century love-e-dub-e's; a seance of unification might be far away mind you; they say they cite the Bible as if it were an Encyclopaedia - you reared the African as subhuman, you think, that other European nations will succumb to the African systematisation necessary for integration? you actually think i'll abandon my mother tongue to engross myself in your filthy history and sing god save our queen like a kindergarten sing-along readying myself for Oompa-Loompas? oh i'm sure that's just due to your genetic makeshift tents on the steppes of Mongolia; any news from Mongolia? none. any news from Kazakhstan? none; except irony... or the great Tao principle: forget the world and let the world forget you; i'm not too eager on the Heidegger octopus either having to be in the world and care for it - or at least tax my existence with a concern for it. but of course it's like an inbreeding principle: little Britain meets the Empire, Darth Asthmatic... coo khhh... coo khhh... H vocalised is the best painting of ancient static in televisions, motivational ashes lost with digitalisation, the kaleidoscope of flies and 8-eye spiders hacking the flight with spider-web geometrics... prolong the first two letters of the word Khan... and i'm sure you'll genealogically stress the origin of Pakistan as being in Mongolia.
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Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 7:40 PM UTC
bile of regrets
i believe that there lives a counterpart of me in Spain and in France - equally critical - not me per se, but two individuals to compensate my efforts in England, Eastern European, hell-bent to overtax the happy meal and frozen foods for "the busy lives of 21st century love-e-dub-e's; a seance of unification might be far away mind you; they say they cite the Bible as if it were an Encyclopaedia - you reared the African as subhuman, you think, that other European nations will succumb to the African systematisation necessary for integration? you actually think i'll abandon my mother tongue to engross myself in your filthy history and sing god save our queen like a kindergarten sing-along readying myself for Oompa-Loompas? oh i'm sure that's just due to your genetic makeshift tents on the steppes of Mongolia; any news from Mongolia? none. any news from Kazakhstan? none; except irony... or the great Tao principle: forget the world and let the world forget you; i'm not too eager on the Heidegger octopus either having to be in the world and care for it - or at least tax my existence with a concern for it. but of course it's like an inbreeding principle: little Britain meets the Empire, Darth Asthmatic... coo khhh... coo khhh... H vocalised is the best painting of ancient static in televisions, motivational ashes lost with digitalisation, the kaleidoscope of flies and 8-eye spiders hacking the flight with spider-web geometrics... prolong the first two letters of the word Khan... and i'm sure you'll genealogically stress the origin of Pakistan as being in Mongolia.
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So you're in your early twenties. Two decades and some change down. Life isn't going as you expected. You don't live in a studio apartment above the skyline in Manhattan and your Friends names aren't Ross, Phoebe or Joey. You blame the economy for your lack of currency and inability to move. You remain comfortable, because that is what feels okay. Now, let's stop making excuses. Realize that your in your early twenties: It's the perfect supersonic boom of an age. You are young enough where you still have your morals from adolescence and have yet to be tainted or jaded by the real world. Don't worry so much about what your diploma says. Use what you already know: your ethics, ideology, art form of life to create something useful within this world. Be you, not because Drake says you only live once, but because it is common sense. Don't sit around and wait, hope or pray for something to happen. It is finally your time to make it happen. Go out and fail. For failure is the first step to success, because you're one step ahead of everyone else by trying, by risking, by attempting to go out of the comfort box. So on this very day: Let's make it happen today. God, Buddha, Yahweh, Your Krypton Alien Dance or Whatever You May Believe In--Bless bros & broettes. Peace.
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Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 5:27 PM UTC
Motivational Monday:
Life is like a roller coaster — Up and down, down then up we go. Or so I read once in a motivational poster. Well, life must knock me down pretty hard Because somehow I keep missing the good part.
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Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
Don’t Believe the Motivational Poster
The fall out of the alphabet Letters in the atmosphere Spinning as planets With gravitational Motivational Habits Continuously With individual Entities as phrases With mouth Attractants Words forming Magnets To the eyes Memorizational Remembrance This do In paragraphs Blood and bodied Configurants of Metaphorics In vowels and consonants The constance Sentences said by Existence in alphabets Of the fall out Deciphered by the brainstem Of mens Difference Every one has a pen And writes gibberish To deliver it To someone who just might give a **** The fall out the alphabet Preparing for the aftermath
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Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 11:46 PM UTC
Longarms Linguistics
I'd like to talk about curves Twist and turns Dented surfaces Or talk about God Childish wishes Open caskets Broken promises Surfing on Universal energies Deciphering the Poems in the music I'd like to visit Paris Everglades sawn grass Prairie With my palms caressing softly I need a mental picture of paradise A motivational quote before bed at night These nightmares stressing for a fight I'd like to talk with my dad again I need a map of manhood I think I might be doing it wrong ......Or just tell him that I'm a proud son I want to dance Waltzing around things I value With black leather dress shoes Courting yellows from blues Using old memories as punching bag Thinking about that kid who wasn't punching back Curved spine with a heavy backpack I want to be here now No captions, just sounds .....and curves
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Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 6:27 AM UTC
Curves
♠ ♠ ♠ Pseudo-Oriental visions Haiku, Tanka, exotic terms Vapid New Age vibe-transmissions proliferating eastern germs… Anarchistic thought collages Existential lacerations Nihilistic heart-massages Incoherent lamentations, Communism on a mission, grievance-mongering, stewed in hate; pounding Fascist fusion/fission chanting harshly “ours the state”, Hymns to Gods who choked on ***** undertaken in overdose; rocks that never rose to comet rolling – but ending comatose, Hipster ironies, tongue in chic Metro-wimps who feign the normal, Redneck rantings up the creek semaphoric,  semi-formal, matron’s maudlin observations, motivational hypnosis, (sentimental medications offered prior to diagnosis), coldly abstract neo-nonsense read (by dullards) as cutting edge, letters void of correspondence; well-trimmed words’ linguistic hedge. Climate whining (tried untrue) with eco-prophecies warning doom, Wiccans and tree-sprites trying to undo the curse and lift the gloom, Feministic tribal ranting, Race-complaining, agitation, GLBT gallivanting – all are blights upon our nation. Boring modernist excess, (no longer daring  –  formulaic) confounds –  yet never can address what’s wrong, and so becomes prosaic. Lists like this are perhaps  the worst; another symptom of our times: we who are woefully unversed in rhythmic complaining that rhymes.
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Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
Stuff Poetry Hates:
There's no formula. Why would there be a formula, Why muddle it up with signs and Figures and giving and taking When words do enough to draw a Coroner's bag over it? All you can know is the beautiful Tightening of the Devil's hand on your soul, Which he has now turned into a stress ball With a witty or motivational saying on it. Some are smiley faces, But he crushes them all the same. Too bad Libra isn't there to balance you out, Sort out the Good and the Evil, Your God and your Devil. Because really, we ride on a line Some would call razor sharp. The most difficult task throughout our lives Is, undeniably, the act of balancing. Imagine this: We are all the King's Fools, We sit in the King's castle In the Grand Hall With wooden tables And beautiful banners to represent Who discovered and exploited And conquered a certain piece of land, And a certain part of the population, And a certain percentage of humanity. And these banners are red and gold, Red for Passion, Gold for Obsession. And the walls are ****** Breaking themselves apart Like hourglass's employed grains of sand. We all balance in this hall On ridiculously tall unicycles, So tall that the fruit and assorted Desserts we are balancing on our clown's Top hats on our sweating heads Brush against the lion's tail on the first banner, The boar's tusks on the second, And sometimes the rose's bowing stem. We do this all our lives While the nobility, Or the cosmos, Or God and the Devil, Or Good and Evil, Sit and watch, laughing and throwing themselves at us For us to catch and juggle whenever they please.
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Feb 28, 2011
Feb 28, 2011 at 11:25 PM UTC
Via Negativa
There's no formula. Why would there be a formula, Why muddle it up with signs and Figures and giving and taking When words do enough to draw a Coroner's bag over it? All you can know is the beautiful Tightening of the Devil's hand on your soul, Which he has now turned into a stress ball With a witty or motivational saying on it. Some are smiley faces, But he crushes them all the same. Too bad Libra isn't there to balance you out, Sort out the Good and the Evil, Your God and your Devil. Because really, we ride on a line Some would call razor sharp. The most difficult task throughout our lives Is, undeniably, the act of balancing. Imagine this: We are all the King's Fools, We sit in the King's castle In the Grand Hall With wooden tables And beautiful banners to represent Who discovered and exploited And conquered a certain piece of land, And a certain part of the population, And a certain percentage of humanity. And these banners are red and gold, Red for Passion, Gold for Obsession. And the walls are ****** Breaking themselves apart Like hourglass's employed grains of sand. We all balance in this hall On ridiculously tall unicycles, So tall that the fruit and assorted Desserts we are balancing on our clown's Top hats on our sweating heads Brush against the lion's tail on the first banner, The boar's tusks on the second, And sometimes the rose's bowing stem. We do this all our lives While the nobility, Or the cosmos, Or God and the Devil, Or Good and Evil, Sit and watch, laughing and throwing themselves at us For us to catch and juggle whenever they please.
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