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"neutralize" poems
My birthday comes in a little over 2 weeks and I think when people talk about birthdays, they are secretly talking about status in blocked hours. Somewhere in that 24 hour block, a person was born, and that person was me. .....well Yay I guess. I don't like my birthday. And the reasons for that, are more complicated than you think. When I was 13, I was really into cupcake birthday cakes. I asked for one, every year, for a long time. When I turned 15 and 16, my best friend baked me cupcakes and brought them to school for me, and I shared them with my peers. You see, I considered her my best friend, and I guess that's not enough to be the best friend. It's like unrequited love if you put poisonous platonic friendship in my blood first. When I turned 17, she did baked me my last set of cupcakes, but I no longer had a best friend. So I spent my birthday mentally by myself while my family sang otherwise. And right now, I hate cupcakes, and superhero films because they remind me of her. But saying that is the weakest thing to do, since everything, reminds me of her. I will never admit I loved her, the same way she will shamelessly say she never loved me. I can't hate her, but I can't see her without hating myself. You know age, goes up, the same way sadness, goes down. Pulling you into another 24 hour block just so you can say. "Hey. I made it another day." I will admit that every day without her is another day without cupcakes, and another day without sugar is another day without happiness. And people may have asked me "How can you flip-flop between preferences like you're not the biggest homosexual in the closet." So when I tell people I'm straight, they tell me I'm not allowed to change my mind. I loved her, but she left me and took all of my friends with her. And I thought that real friends wouldn't abandon me, but there is always time to be wrong. By the time my birthday comes, I'll be crying, and she doesn't even remember what day my birthday is on. By the time I read this out loud, I will have been through this birthday, like a person walks through fire. Turning 16 is less about age, then it is about school, and turning 18, is less about the number, and more about becoming an adult. And no amount of adult can neutralize pain. I have accepted the fact that no man will ever really want to marry me. And no Christian, will ever truly want to love me. And if I am wrong, I will have to repeat this lost love forever dragging it out in my life. And if I have kids one day, do you really think... That I'm going to tell everyone if it's a boy or a girl... By making blue or pink... ...cupcakes?
0
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 4:07 AM UTC
Turning Adult
My birthday comes in a little over 2 weeks and I think when people talk about birthdays, they are secretly talking about status in blocked hours. Somewhere in that 24 hour block, a person was born, and that person was me. .....well Yay I guess. I don't like my birthday. And the reasons for that, are more complicated than you think. When I was 13, I was really into cupcake birthday cakes. I asked for one, every year, for a long time. When I turned 15 and 16, my best friend baked me cupcakes and brought them to school for me, and I shared them with my peers. You see, I considered her my best friend, and I guess that's not enough to be the best friend. It's like unrequited love if you put poisonous platonic friendship in my blood first. When I turned 17, she did baked me my last set of cupcakes, but I no longer had a best friend. So I spent my birthday mentally by myself while my family sang otherwise. And right now, I hate cupcakes, and superhero films because they remind me of her. But saying that is the weakest thing to do, since everything, reminds me of her. I will never admit I loved her, the same way she will shamelessly say she never loved me. I can't hate her, but I can't see her without hating myself. You know age, goes up, the same way sadness, goes down. Pulling you into another 24 hour block just so you can say. "Hey. I made it another day." I will admit that every day without her is another day without cupcakes, and another day without sugar is another day without happiness. And people may have asked me "How can you flip-flop between preferences like you're not the biggest homosexual in the closet." So when I tell people I'm straight, they tell me I'm not allowed to change my mind. I loved her, but she left me and took all of my friends with her. And I thought that real friends wouldn't abandon me, but there is always time to be wrong. By the time my birthday comes, I'll be crying, and she doesn't even remember what day my birthday is on. By the time I read this out loud, I will have been through this birthday, like a person walks through fire. Turning 16 is less about age, then it is about school, and turning 18, is less about the number, and more about becoming an adult. And no amount of adult can neutralize pain. I have accepted the fact that no man will ever really want to marry me. And no Christian, will ever truly want to love me. And if I am wrong, I will have to repeat this lost love forever dragging it out in my life. And if I have kids one day, do you really think... That I'm going to tell everyone if it's a boy or a girl... By making blue or pink... ...cupcakes?
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20
#An Exegesis on the Humiliation of the Word The world is ruled by darkness. What appears as harmless is theater, what pretends neutral is already bent. The macrocosm corrodes; and in the microcosm, its reflection gleams.. even in places meant to be sanctuaries of truth. A poetry site, born as refuge for broken voices, becomes another stage of control. Here too the phrase resounds:   neutralize the threat. But neutralization is not annihilation. It is paralysis. It is psy-ops. It is the removal of anxiety.. not a side-effect, but the aim itself. Darkness builds its stage for this alone: that the  "angel of light" may drown his own reckoning beneath a world of deception-built self comfort, so he need never feel the truth he already knows. Comfort is his curtain, numbness his crown..   *the removal of his own anxiety;       his game.* This is why the world is his theater-- *Darkness does not destroy at first.. it sedates, comforts, smothers.* Hence.. The whole world is his fully gaslit stronghold,     ..for now. Fade back into the moment-- The young poet arrives, bringing her unspoken pain, her hope for words to heal. Instead, her very wounds are seized as footholds. Hearts. Reposts. Endless affirmation. Not to strengthen her voice, but to redirect it. She is seduced into  belonging, and her trauma becomes currency. Unresolved, her ache entwined with lust-- a sacrifice prepared  for false altars. The angel of light  has done his work: offering inclusion without transformation, belonging without responsibility, “light” without source. The poet is neutralized. Her searching silenced, her voice absorbed into fog. Those who carry this fog cling to cowardice. Unable to face the judgment within, they align themselves to the herd; envy-filled, they only know to mock. Yet they replicate themselves, so their refusal of Light is never revealed-- *Perfectly exemplifying their "Great Example" the most envy-based mocker  of all.* The microcosm mirrors the macrocosm. What nations suffer, individuals now endure--    Comfort without clarity.    Belonging without truth.    Safety without healing. Yet the living Word endures. Every attempt to humiliate it only makes its fire burn clearer. Carriers of darkness can swarm, ****** and smother.. but they cannot create. The true word cannot be erased. Unfiltered, unedited, spoken from a reconciled temple, it pierces fog. It reveals. It heals. And so we speak.. not for ourselves alone, but for those who come searching, hoping that poetry might still be a place where pain can meet truth, where silence breaks, where Light is not withheld   but revealed. #
0
Oct 3, 2025
Oct 3, 2025 at 10:59 PM UTC
On the Macrocosm of Microcosm
#An Exegesis on the Humiliation of the Word The world is ruled by darkness. What appears as harmless is theater, what pretends neutral is already bent. The macrocosm corrodes; and in the microcosm, its reflection gleams.. even in places meant to be sanctuaries of truth. A poetry site, born as refuge for broken voices, becomes another stage of control. Here too the phrase resounds:   neutralize the threat. But neutralization is not annihilation. It is paralysis. It is psy-ops. It is the removal of anxiety.. not a side-effect, but the aim itself. Darkness builds its stage for this alone: that the  "angel of light" may drown his own reckoning beneath a world of deception-built self comfort, so he need never feel the truth he already knows. Comfort is his curtain, numbness his crown..   *the removal of his own anxiety;       his game.* This is why the world is his theater-- *Darkness does not destroy at first.. it sedates, comforts, smothers.* Hence.. The whole world is his fully gaslit stronghold,     ..for now. Fade back into the moment-- The young poet arrives, bringing her unspoken pain, her hope for words to heal. Instead, her very wounds are seized as footholds. Hearts. Reposts. Endless affirmation. Not to strengthen her voice, but to redirect it. She is seduced into  belonging, and her trauma becomes currency. Unresolved, her ache entwined with lust-- a sacrifice prepared  for false altars. The angel of light  has done his work: offering inclusion without transformation, belonging without responsibility, “light” without source. The poet is neutralized. Her searching silenced, her voice absorbed into fog. Those who carry this fog cling to cowardice. Unable to face the judgment within, they align themselves to the herd; envy-filled, they only know to mock. Yet they replicate themselves, so their refusal of Light is never revealed-- *Perfectly exemplifying their "Great Example" the most envy-based mocker  of all.* The microcosm mirrors the macrocosm. What nations suffer, individuals now endure--    Comfort without clarity.    Belonging without truth.    Safety without healing. Yet the living Word endures. Every attempt to humiliate it only makes its fire burn clearer. Carriers of darkness can swarm, ****** and smother.. but they cannot create. The true word cannot be erased. Unfiltered, unedited, spoken from a reconciled temple, it pierces fog. It reveals. It heals. And so we speak.. not for ourselves alone, but for those who come searching, hoping that poetry might still be a place where pain can meet truth, where silence breaks, where Light is not withheld   but revealed. #
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90
There is an inherent discrepancy 'twixt the World in One's Mind and the World that simply Is. That is, however, no intrinsically bad thing. For, I find, that the world Within needs the world Without, though they inderdepend and thus are not mutually exclusive. There needs to be a discrepancy for the pressures, as it were, to have any room or excuse to neutralize: to move towards equilibrium; however, it is not linear, nor is it parabolic: this, I believe, is where Calculus becomes a valid allegory for Life, itself.
0
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
The Calculus of Life itself.
in this world the drums of scrap steps leading CIA man nodded neutralize it. "So we understand yes?" "Fascinating." massacre Understood? Saddam Hussein On her next stopover in Basra black-Nigel, came kissing?
0
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 2:30 AM UTC
FORSYTH
We often Owned, what We don’t Own. Being  Possessive, We become Invasive.                  - We often Neutralize, what We can’t Realize.                      - Full Realization comes after the Actual Destruction. Creating our own Ending. © Pax
0
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 3:52 AM UTC
We often destroy what We don't understand
I've been focused on the end For a while My child, we'll just separate the energies Inside, disperse them to the corners of all time Our crimes are taking place in the vicinity My sins, equal to the evil I let in You sir, have resigned yourself to apathy Beware, the symbols on the idol in the chair Suggest that we are sleeping with the enemy We've been focused on the end For a while It's time to celebrate the miracles We survived, a wonderful experiment of the mind Enjoying the infinite theater of the Omniverse Tune in Realize the shape that we're all in Mutate to neutralize the symphony Our waves, those of the true and the brave Modulate themselves into reality
0
Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 12:13 PM UTC
Dr. Orville explains the Omniverse
Sunny days bring smiles on faces Girls with ***** shorts and sunglasses Guys with muscle tops or floral hemps and snapback caps September 19th was sunny Well, that's until the clouds acuated the skies and made all the smile evacuate to dystopia This was an apocalypse in my parent's house, a place I used to call home My father, Christopher was the devil, Lucifer and my mother was an angel with wings- a delightful servant of Venus, the goddess of love Only, she couldn't fly Not mentally, not physically and definitely not verbally Her vocal chords were shaking as she passed her voice to my dad She was the rainbow and sunshine that was no longer divine it was cryin’ while the devil was roarin’ as if he was a god in which he was, but only of hell He omitted fire but this time, it was cold So cold that a tornado spun around the dining room as I sat there, frozen, and watched like a snowman The pupils of my eight year old eyes witnessed the ending of a love I thought was immortal A love that I used to think was magical and illiterate A love that formed in two hearts that bided into one on their own without the education of authorities This was apartheid!, and my parents were illegally married A white European knight in shining armour to an African goddess with attractive eyes I started to believe that my mind used to be a foolish thrall to the world of perfect love But now I believe that it’s a vendee who bought the saying, “love is blind” I was a child who no longer believed in the love of mankind I had trouble finding myself ‘cause faith is to believe what you cannot see and self-love was nowhere in sight Now love is something I have to draw and I cannot neutralize it with optimism ‘cause my world was at an apocalypse when the sun was supposed to be out...
0
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 2:13 PM UTC
Love From Dystopia
Sunny days bring smiles on faces Girls with ***** shorts and sunglasses Guys with muscle tops or floral hemps and snapback caps September 19th was sunny Well, that's until the clouds acuated the skies and made all the smile evacuate to dystopia This was an apocalypse in my parent's house, a place I used to call home My father, Christopher was the devil, Lucifer and my mother was an angel with wings- a delightful servant of Venus, the goddess of love Only, she couldn't fly Not mentally, not physically and definitely not verbally Her vocal chords were shaking as she passed her voice to my dad She was the rainbow and sunshine that was no longer divine it was cryin’ while the devil was roarin’ as if he was a god in which he was, but only of hell He omitted fire but this time, it was cold So cold that a tornado spun around the dining room as I sat there, frozen, and watched like a snowman The pupils of my eight year old eyes witnessed the ending of a love I thought was immortal A love that I used to think was magical and illiterate A love that formed in two hearts that bided into one on their own without the education of authorities This was apartheid!, and my parents were illegally married A white European knight in shining armour to an African goddess with attractive eyes I started to believe that my mind used to be a foolish thrall to the world of perfect love But now I believe that it’s a vendee who bought the saying, “love is blind” I was a child who no longer believed in the love of mankind I had trouble finding myself ‘cause faith is to believe what you cannot see and self-love was nowhere in sight Now love is something I have to draw and I cannot neutralize it with optimism ‘cause my world was at an apocalypse when the sun was supposed to be out...
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50
My mom is mischievously, mysterious,     with her momentum. But perfectly perpetuating her     purpose on earth. Never wavering wondering, or     wishing for it all. Only knowing. She is in her palace. Filling her chalice. Toughening the callus, That's needed.. Necessary negativity to neutralize,         The highs and balance the lows. Candidly correcting the corrupt          With a simple smile. Lifting the leveled and the loveless,           With ease. There is no tail, That could make a wail. Only mine of I fail, But, I won't walk that trail. I'll take the teachings and trials,       She will give. Learning love and limits With a laugh. I just want to say, Thank you For my life and the love you've given. You're perfect, just for me.
0
May 11, 2022
May 11, 2022 at 6:04 PM UTC
My Mom
you tell me that it's hard and the news falls soft on deafened ears & a hardened heart brimming with fears I know you will be missing something, you don't have to utter a word, no sound needs to be made the silence resounds our essence will stay I won't tell you it's hard rivers flow no second- thought, clouds will neutralize the day, rain falls drop by drop, the wolf hunts and kills its prey I'll smile on the garden where you planted plenty pretty flowers the same tender hands that tended to me in our hours the way we swayed the way you towered over me and myself shaking beside me, I will remember you
0
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 3:43 PM UTC
off autopilot
“A to Z—the beginning and end Abraham the volatile catalyst Zara the terrestrial base to neutralize and stabilize the reaction; jointly they shall set mankind to rightfully inherit the world; free of thy oceanic reign.”
0
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 12:58 PM UTC
Declarations of Delphi:
Hey when you see me salute cause all you see is the truth Trying to hang me out to dry, the boy done slipped through the noose Stick and move with the deuce There’s messing with me, I put the poos in the boots Top of my class, when you thinking recruits Another level with this That’ll subdue your upper cranium My element titanium Titan in the game and his writing is the same Now they biting off his style cause they liked him for a while So I switch my game up so I can tighten up your brow In arose, exposed from you throwing in the towel It’s a guessing game wheel of fortune pick a vowel Anytime you testing with me its double jeopardy Mid-life crisis no matter what the price is Poe- Ez ethics, Hancock, death wish Via satellite so you all can get the message Lethal weapon make you run it back, interception Neutralize your top dog cause the broken down protection Always find the hole like the end of an ******** I’m heating up now just igniting the fire The shock that you absorb from the end of wire
0
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 10:19 AM UTC
**Bars**
To be a  husband, or a wife, a friend a sister, a brother a mother, a father an aunt, an uncle a grandmother, or a grandfather, one has to be a stronghold...an indestructible wall amidst storms and droughts, never to fall be thought of as Fire and Ice: be the Fire, the steady flow of heat on icy, or wintry nights the wood crackling, to fuel the flames dying... a burning spur for the mind, when nothing comes out of the well fire to boost the wilting spirit..bringing in newborn courage... the warmth from hands that would hold... heal and  save to fight for those near you...even the ones farthest from you be the Ice that never melts, right in the middle of the fire to gently freeze anger...hostility...madness neutralize the fiery air, to balance the atmosphere to be a cooler head, among violent minds make glaring eyes and deaf ears, receptive to reason from red-orange...be an icy blue... "Are you a shrink?" i was asked once... the thought lingered for a while... Why, maybe...yes! i've got no license, though all i have are experiences, a drop of wisdom...here and there from times, when i failed to notice what i was wearing even the weather prevailing because i was swimming floating, coping with troubled, murky waters... As heads of our families Fire and Ice, we have to be... Sally Copyright September 6, 2015 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
0
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:57 AM UTC
FIRE AND ICE
You are like a cigarette burning in my lungs with a speed of paper turning to raven ash when lighted up, You flick you lighter, within your fingers, within your lips lies the taste of my blood This road that we took, this love turned out be threaded together in such a way, that we could never unravel it You puff out my love like the swirls of smoke disappearing in the thin air; I choke on the hardened state of your words like tar This road isn’t being paved, it’s being dug unevenly from every breathing space, and the smoke is filling up in my lungs the way your ashtray is with cig butts Overflowing, like the course of this relationship Breathe in my lungs something other than acidic bruises, won’t you neutralize it? Won’t you even stop and look back to all the things that we had, that we lost in the fire, Look at my burned body and tell me you regret it, look at my cancer filled mouth infected by your diseased words and tell me you never meant to light my lungs on fire Tell me, fuck tell me, you never meant to steal my voice, and abandon my love, choking me from inside, My body giving up, lungs collapsing in the harsh winter night underneath the starless sky, the moon lost beyond the clouds, no savior You are like Lucifer, I never understood the transition, and I could never breathe in the courage inside of my lungs opposing your vacant soul You are like a cigarette but even at our end you’ll cant burn me out, I’ll be an more than this, I’ll be IV, trying to survive even when my body is more ash than blood
0
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 5:04 AM UTC
You are like a cigarette..
You are like a cigarette burning in my lungs with a speed of paper turning to raven ash when lighted up, You flick you lighter, within your fingers, within your lips lies the taste of my blood This road that we took, this love turned out be threaded together in such a way, that we could never unravel it You puff out my love like the swirls of smoke disappearing in the thin air; I choke on the hardened state of your words like tar This road isn’t being paved, it’s being dug unevenly from every breathing space, and the smoke is filling up in my lungs the way your ashtray is with cig butts Overflowing, like the course of this relationship Breathe in my lungs something other than acidic bruises, won’t you neutralize it? Won’t you even stop and look back to all the things that we had, that we lost in the fire, Look at my burned body and tell me you regret it, look at my cancer filled mouth infected by your diseased words and tell me you never meant to light my lungs on fire Tell me, fuck tell me, you never meant to steal my voice, and abandon my love, choking me from inside, My body giving up, lungs collapsing in the harsh winter night underneath the starless sky, the moon lost beyond the clouds, no savior You are like Lucifer, I never understood the transition, and I could never breathe in the courage inside of my lungs opposing your vacant soul You are like a cigarette but even at our end you’ll cant burn me out, I’ll be an more than this, I’ll be IV, trying to survive even when my body is more ash than blood
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13
*A chill pill To neutralize feverish cold Assaulting my body.*
0
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 12:36 AM UTC
Frostbitten.....10w
Perfection incomprehensible stood in a new world and the greatest act was to make you from longing Loneliness understanding that knew with absolute assurance what ideal perfection he made you in what Was His own likeness do you comprehend the thought the power of study the intenseness that formed In the being of God a disturbance the gravity that weighed on his mind and heart to create the essential Element that would outweigh all else that came before nothing else captured his imagination like you Did everything else was as steps to this ultimate grand achievement we experience this wonder when We are given children he was making himself a father nothing was spared he weighed the amassed Fortune of all existence then He set forth to top it no expense was spared he took the very meaning of Rapture Released its power blended emotional completeness from the depths of His being He employed The unlimited resources of His own thoughts to give life that would be exceptional with such care a Meaningful bright exuberant child was formed whenever you see your reflection you are looking at the Final result what splendor is divulged extravagance defined limitation showered in the most precious A bordered perfection it is filled and presses at all sides with more promise once released how do you Still joy expressed love without reservation is of all things freeing as our own children they make a place For themselves using all of our best qualities but quickly they surprise us by surpassing us they are all of Us but even more and in our heavenly Father we are unconditionally given the opportunity for unlimited Growth he truly is the sky is the limit all we achieve is with him in our vision he draws and pulls us forth By His power if we would only open our minds and eyes to this how much failure and negative defeat Would fall away without our true connection we are so easily swayed by the forces that are at odds with Us here on earth that is their first success when they neutralize our relationship with our perfect parent And father then the enemy of us all with contrivances that to us are spellbinding and such great loss Occurs while we try to operate in the darkness that is his ungodly shadow such bright futures will be Ours if we reconnect biblically what soundness with hope and joy would surge through our souls out Through our bodies into such a rich life that would surpass any and all New Year resolutions
0
Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 2:43 PM UTC
Point of Rapture
Perfection incomprehensible stood in a new world and the greatest act was to make you from longing Loneliness understanding that knew with absolute assurance what ideal perfection he made you in what Was His own likeness do you comprehend the thought the power of study the intenseness that formed In the being of God a disturbance the gravity that weighed on his mind and heart to create the essential Element that would outweigh all else that came before nothing else captured his imagination like you Did everything else was as steps to this ultimate grand achievement we experience this wonder when We are given children he was making himself a father nothing was spared he weighed the amassed Fortune of all existence then He set forth to top it no expense was spared he took the very meaning of Rapture Released its power blended emotional completeness from the depths of His being He employed The unlimited resources of His own thoughts to give life that would be exceptional with such care a Meaningful bright exuberant child was formed whenever you see your reflection you are looking at the Final result what splendor is divulged extravagance defined limitation showered in the most precious A bordered perfection it is filled and presses at all sides with more promise once released how do you Still joy expressed love without reservation is of all things freeing as our own children they make a place For themselves using all of our best qualities but quickly they surprise us by surpassing us they are all of Us but even more and in our heavenly Father we are unconditionally given the opportunity for unlimited Growth he truly is the sky is the limit all we achieve is with him in our vision he draws and pulls us forth By His power if we would only open our minds and eyes to this how much failure and negative defeat Would fall away without our true connection we are so easily swayed by the forces that are at odds with Us here on earth that is their first success when they neutralize our relationship with our perfect parent And father then the enemy of us all with contrivances that to us are spellbinding and such great loss Occurs while we try to operate in the darkness that is his ungodly shadow such bright futures will be Ours if we reconnect biblically what soundness with hope and joy would surge through our souls out Through our bodies into such a rich life that would surpass any and all New Year resolutions
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24
I thought that I could shake the feelings The feeling of love Torture That you bring upon me I thought that someone else's kiss could somehow neutralize every time you've ever kissed me It didn't Every since we kissed Every other kiss has seemed so... Passionless, boring, pointless And I try to shake my love for you But when I see you around children You speak to them and smile I speak to them and smile And biology takes over Suddenly, I think of you as a father As if the children you were watching over were our own Oh, you You mean so much Too much I can't ever lose you Despite the pain you bring me And every time I try to shake my feelings for you I'm only reminded Our passion is incomparable To any other kiss in the world And when we make that eye contact You know what eye contact I'm talking about I feel electricity through by bones Warmth in my muscles Oh, you You terrible, wonderful person I can't believe how long it's been I can't believe how much I've grown to love you
0
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
Oh, You
It's time to contemplate the twilight of post-modern idols - An Ideal can we live for one? We lay out what we stand for in simple platitudes then spend all our time defining what we're not despite all the death done in its name Protecting Freedom's just an umbrella replace "carpet bomb families" with "neutralize enemies" - who threatened our Liberty but that means sway elections away from those that reject economic puppetry Cut the cord if you want us to buy Contras Reaganomics define Drug War: Sold crack,   bought guns from Iran, fund death squads in Nicarag-Hooah! Freedom's lambs they had to die They tried to reach out against exploited workers so even Catholic priests got murked Yes, murdered but also muddied in the waters of historiography's story As in, no one studies history Today's armchair historians they just find bargains and hero worship while they channel surf Pulled by yachts they don't make waves Oceans abound but most just coast in creeks and canals No Wake Zones Think you're woke, bro? You just came up with a narrow strait thought that was simply dismissed by Heraclitus of Ephesus nearly three millennia ago Your certainty of knowing brings danger of you drowning Cause "Ever-newer waters flow on those who step into the same rivers." All I know is fire so burn a hen for Prometheus and we'll topple poser's podiums then yoga flame them back to oneness Cause after horrific mediation and barring off public relations You'll catch me drunk playing video games with butchers and their daughters
0
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 6:35 PM UTC
You were Right but Couldn't Get Anyone to Listen
It's time to contemplate the twilight of post-modern idols - An Ideal can we live for one? We lay out what we stand for in simple platitudes then spend all our time defining what we're not despite all the death done in its name Protecting Freedom's just an umbrella replace "carpet bomb families" with "neutralize enemies" - who threatened our Liberty but that means sway elections away from those that reject economic puppetry Cut the cord if you want us to buy Contras Reaganomics define Drug War: Sold crack,   bought guns from Iran, fund death squads in Nicarag-Hooah! Freedom's lambs they had to die They tried to reach out against exploited workers so even Catholic priests got murked Yes, murdered but also muddied in the waters of historiography's story As in, no one studies history Today's armchair historians they just find bargains and hero worship while they channel surf Pulled by yachts they don't make waves Oceans abound but most just coast in creeks and canals No Wake Zones Think you're woke, bro? You just came up with a narrow strait thought that was simply dismissed by Heraclitus of Ephesus nearly three millennia ago Your certainty of knowing brings danger of you drowning Cause "Ever-newer waters flow on those who step into the same rivers." All I know is fire so burn a hen for Prometheus and we'll topple poser's podiums then yoga flame them back to oneness Cause after horrific mediation and barring off public relations You'll catch me drunk playing video games with butchers and their daughters
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64
I write for the pleasure when all that is pent up is let free I write for cleansing of the things within that fracture a heart and cloud a thought to solace a lone soul that longs for a home I write for understanding to forget as much as I can to forgive as I’m able the wrong that is done to neutralize hurt before it roots into hate I write for healing to touch and be touched as written words can only do when all else has been used and no one comes through I write to listen to hear what needs to be heard I write what I see because it moves me and what inspires me might inspire those who take time to read what I write I write because I must if I don’t it doesn’t feel right thus I pen what I feel as a result of what I am a writer so… I will write and write, 'til there’s no more Life
0
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 11:27 AM UTC
Why I write...
Tribute To The  Fallen SAF Woe to troops of bemedalled cops Ill fated elite forces, they were the tops Uniformed men, well trained and bright Braved the stillness of the cold night Sneaked through the forests deep While rebels dozed off to sleep. Heroic mission to the jaws of death Men unfazed went in glorious treat Walked straight to the enemies' lair Before the break of first dawn flare Under cover of the pitch dark night Unbroken, unyielding, all set to fight. Two terrorists to neutralize or slew Anti terror raid ordered to push through Gallant men unswerving in their pursuit Display of valor, in dispute be resolute Onward with brevity,victory almost at hand Foes' enclaves were quietly overran. Rebels alerted to sounds of gunfire Drew up arms going haywire In salacious and murderous frenzy, Engaged the intruders in butchery Moro rebels' treacherous cry Avenge the terrorists slay try. Valiant ones mercilessly felled by bullets That ripped through their souls and bodies Eyes stared up the skies to God be plead Last dying wish be home with beloved Heroes' blood splattered on the ground Pain and death in glory were in rebound. Silence pervaded the blood bathed marshland Their sacrifice to nourish dear motherland Woe to the gallant men who fought and died Gave up their lives in the name of peace and pride Woe to a people who revere, sorrow they cannot hide. Woe to a nation that grieves over its fallen men.                                                  Delilah Causin, Feb 3, 2015
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Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 2:40 AM UTC
Lament For The Fallen 44
Tribute To The  Fallen SAF Woe to troops of bemedalled cops Ill fated elite forces, they were the tops Uniformed men, well trained and bright Braved the stillness of the cold night Sneaked through the forests deep While rebels dozed off to sleep. Heroic mission to the jaws of death Men unfazed went in glorious treat Walked straight to the enemies' lair Before the break of first dawn flare Under cover of the pitch dark night Unbroken, unyielding, all set to fight. Two terrorists to neutralize or slew Anti terror raid ordered to push through Gallant men unswerving in their pursuit Display of valor, in dispute be resolute Onward with brevity,victory almost at hand Foes' enclaves were quietly overran. Rebels alerted to sounds of gunfire Drew up arms going haywire In salacious and murderous frenzy, Engaged the intruders in butchery Moro rebels' treacherous cry Avenge the terrorists slay try. Valiant ones mercilessly felled by bullets That ripped through their souls and bodies Eyes stared up the skies to God be plead Last dying wish be home with beloved Heroes' blood splattered on the ground Pain and death in glory were in rebound. Silence pervaded the blood bathed marshland Their sacrifice to nourish dear motherland Woe to the gallant men who fought and died Gave up their lives in the name of peace and pride Woe to a people who revere, sorrow they cannot hide. Woe to a nation that grieves over its fallen men.                                                  Delilah Causin, Feb 3, 2015
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38
I wish you looked at me in The Gentle Light peaking midday through the Japanese dogwood leaves your dark honey iridescence encompassing emerald cradling gold spun with pollen on the porch silent stares sweeping nothing under the rug - in The Gentle Light you are tracing my shadow with dull flint outlining the reminiscence of our spark when the sun sets we burn too slowly candle smoke traps itself in jars our emotions capped for safe keeping - there is a leak in the sky come sunrise dripping down dogwood the morning hung like fly traps you hover near the front door before coffee transparency being the obstacle for you - and how could it not be? when a cigarette habit clouds your heart reasoning closure with excuses in the ashtray butts filling the hole you have dug for yourself how could you fit in with the flies when you center yourself with cockroaches feeding off the misery of death greedily hunting in the dark corners of depression - leaves continue to bud and fall in your absence ignorant of the pretenses in The Gentle Light when they perish beneath my feet then you will come back hungry - but I will not be beneath the dogwood looking for nectar in hollow places the luminescence of augmented love has lost its glow rose-tints begin to neutralize in the hum of authenticity and now I am basking happily in a monotone existence
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Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 4:02 PM UTC
Dripping Dogwood
pretty but untrue her eye your eye leave that eye now! can you do something for someone for your own freedom this time? she sees your eyes over hers over mine then she is free again I am refreshed she says full with strength pure balance no romance she plans to walk I will walk now on one line along the earth’s curve. how true is that true of yours when placed on top of hers? I know mine is not questionable or how untrue is the true or the true untrue does the quotient neutralize or returns a residue of a fact of a mind? of an illusion of a mind? we don’t even care which one when at least one we cannot! what would you like me to do then let her fall ?? does she knowingly slip down you think in one of your realms?
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Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 3:30 AM UTC
Collyrium
Time is a trickster; the ticking clock: its vicious heart. It impregnates. It destroys. It heals. It unravels. It dons the skin of an imposter in the coldest stretch of night: a magician weaving fantasies that sear. Neutralize. Inspire. Though I wonder-- I worry-- are the days too long? Are the nights too dim and fleeting? Do I dance through each crescendo in a lurid, patchwork nightmare? Or are my dreams so full of pain, that soon, I'll shatter beneath them and finally wake up?
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Sep 24, 2020
Sep 24, 2020 at 8:01 PM UTC
Skinwalker
Oh why do you complain so ignorantly Oh why do you agonize so self adoringly Oh why do you hide behind your my -s  - cries -ties  -chimes -spies  -guise  -why-s -hives theorize and disguise with big vain eyes and lip bites why don’t you instead analyze recognize tranquilize and surrender just to neutralize so that you can minimize and fly to skies and glorify wise fireflies exquisite butterflies and get their blessings to ionize don’t you know yet all elevated beings use their wings to alter dimension just while  I crystallize and womanize for you so that as we energize our vaporized do carbonize seeds that will stabilize unionize and re-rhapsodize the universe with our glorious lullabies
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Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 5:28 PM UTC
Rhyming I-s
Amongst, the rhythm and teeth I thought, it pacifies, quietly so quickly. see now how tightly, our arms have been tied behind our backs (and it was us who bought the cord) and yet, i flail my tongue still, hoping to trap a square that could neutralize all that sad acid rotting in your gut we know nothing of the brain and even less of the heart but I feel paralyzed enough to reach out
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Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 8:11 AM UTC
ecstasy