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"objection" poems
I have bruises like amethyst But the truth is I’m the catalyst When I see colours of bismuth I know you mean business Bruises like amethyst But you say you’re a pacifist An analyst an activist But you held my mind so it contorts, distorts And aborts so it can’t resonate or fabricate Or rationalise a world inside That doesn't exist and insists That I can’t be kissed and won’t be missed I've got a black heart like tourmaline But I'm the alkaline to your acid time Trust me I am fine, I'm a pale blue Crystalline Structural perfection Don’t need your affection or your ways Of objections did my bra strap give you an Erection? You could say I'm a feminist But I'm more of a scientist Busting body myths like biologist You say ‘but **** are ****** organs’ Listen you morons, all ******* are a erogenous zone Regardless of gender , boys nips literally have no purpose Except when they get nervous for getting a little lip service Trust me I'm fine, I'm a pale white crystalline Structural perfection I don’t need your objection Not a gem stone for your collar bone I don’t give a **** about Your muscle tone, I'm a cyclone all alone I could spend a 1,000 years on my own.
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Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 7:08 PM UTC
The female scientist ****** crystal rap.
Come and wrap yourself in my arms protection make me your object of affection with no objection the way you moving got me feeling you in some kind of way I can't get enough of you in any shape of fashion got me feining for you in some type of way you are perfection I want your body language to teach me a lesson you are so blessed I want to give you my blessin
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Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 11:39 PM UTC
Bless'd
I got a ruby secret I keep it in my pocket Only Zulu knows about it So I put him in a prison He thinks he's getting out soon But he doesn't have a clue He's just a little rodent But he thinks he's a Raven! He's in love with a prophet So now he's on a conquest But I planned his execution He doesn't know know about it He's always getting roasted Thinks he's a stallion He's really just a rodent But he knows my little secret I tried to sew his mouth shut But he had an objection! Thinks he's the president Shh.. "He's really just a rodent" I gave him a promotion... So now he is my magician He just keeps on escaping He's drunk again, talking **** Hey Zulu! Where are you running to? Everybody is looking for you!
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Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 8:34 PM UTC
Zulu’s Apprentice
The world has always been here to welcome lives on it without any kind of objection.. Take a minute to think about what we are giving to it in return.. Pollution Deforestation Contamination some places have been turned into open sewage.. Are those things what our planet deserves? Mother earth is suffering,not as we do,but somehow it is suffering.. but wait.. Is it suffering alone? We human beings,the flora and fauna are all suffering .. As days go by the consequences are much severe but the decision remains in our hands Together we MUST change the fate of our world, together we can change our fate.. "Be the change that you wish to see in the world"-Mahatma Gandhi -Sharvish
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Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 1:51 AM UTC
Mother earth is suffering...
I Said the Duck to the Kangaroo, 'Good gracious! how you hop! Over the fields and the water too, As if you never would stop! My life is a bore in this nasty pond, And I long to go out in the world beyond! I wish I could hop like you!' Said the duck to the Kangaroo. II 'Please give me a ride on your back!' Said the Duck to the Kangaroo. 'I would sit quite still, and say nothing but "Quack," The whole of the long day through! And we'd go to the Dee, and the Jelly Bo Lee, Over the land and over the sea;-- Please take me a ride! O do!' Said the Duck to the Kangaroo. III Said the Kangaroo to the Duck, 'This requires some little reflection; Perhaps on the whole it might bring me luck, And there seems but one objection, Which is, if you'll let me speak so bold, Your feet are unpleasantly wet and cold, And would probably give me the roo- Matiz!' said the Kangaroo. IV Said the Duck ,'As I sate on the rocks, I have thought over that completely, And I bought four pairs of worsted socks Which fit my web-feet neatly. And to keep out the cold I've bought a cloak, And every day a cigar I'll smoke, All to follow my own dear true Love of a Kangaroo!' V Said the Kangaroo,'I'm ready! All in the moonlight pale; But to balance me well, dear Duck, sit steady! And quite at the end of my tail!' So away they went with a hop and a bound, And they hopped the whole world three times round; And who so happy,--O who, As the duck and the Kangaroo?
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5.9k
The Duck And The Kangaroo
First, Thank you for this poetry, precious intellect. For employing each muse, under no objection-- Working hard so that the words in my head can sing their celebrations As if without effort, And take their leave in abstract Unity. Second, Thank you for my pain, you lying ************ Every time I fall under the spell of night silence, Unencumbered by those solemn realities, Somehow, still, I long to be bound in the ribbons of mental garrulousness. Because **** It'd sure be hard to write without any words-- Without the consequences of this troubled mind. So, it looks like you’ve found a convincing way to pitch the worth of suffering. And Darlin’, I suppose that I'll be the buyer of your generic brand of heartache-- Never cared for that top-shelf quick n’ done despair anyway. I must just have a pallet for lingering bitterness. Third, Thank you for this herb, mother nature. For the improvisational song that it sings in my veins, Tuning out prosaicism’s drone. For the rocking motion of my psyche That starts when the rapid and the slow converge, And the configuration of the fourth dimension warbles me to sleep In a chorus of veins— Conveying each of life’s cadences, All in vain Of what I myself Ordain.
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Feb 17, 2012
Feb 17, 2012 at 11:33 AM UTC
A List of Thanks
Sometimes i wonder, Wondering wonders of wonderful World,for i living in this awful World,spiral of life with terrific Surroundings. Unholy acts to the victims of Xenophobic attacks,violence Turns an everyday speech. Government revolts gathers. Towards poverty-stricken. Diseases classic collide,remittance Assassins rendered for intensely Militancy. Objection!!my lord, Shysters bailing out Evil-doers,juridical system Not pertained.Poverty-trap Pounding,chemical gases Filling lungs of little Ones. Somebody play nice to This,God play part to This,denote dualism of Good and evil. Yesterday they gang banged One of your children. Drugs co-operate infection of Young minds,youth gangsterism Uproar. Father herd your sheeps To the right path,we seek Guidance from above. Family horror-strucks unites, Matrimony rending day by Day,onto religion segregations Strickes by ??????. Keep holy to this life *Life Testimony* and paste Amen...
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Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 4:32 AM UTC
Life Testimony
freckles Did you know that a face without freckles, is like the sky without the stars? It is a beautiful imperfection that no one could hold an objection so be proud of your face because you can only erase mistakes
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Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 9:37 PM UTC
Freckles
GIVE me women, wine, and ***** Untill I cry out "hold, enough!" You may do so sans objection Till the day of resurrection: For, bless my beard, they aye shall be My beloved Trinity.
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3.6k
Give Me Women, Wine, and *****
Is there perfection in imperfection? Or is that just a personal projection? I look at my own reflection, With mental disconnection. The only thing I see is rejection, Everything needs a correction. Especially my midsection, There is no perfection. Only objection, To the imperfection.
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Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 7:24 AM UTC
Mirror
You no longer cross my mind I burned that bridge. You took the wrong hand and left. This time my tears became mathematical, as I watched you walk away they drew 11 on my cheeks. I knew this time you weren't coming back so like dividing a 7 with 3, I remained here. Thinking about you, thinking about us Thinking about that last day you came into my room and we ****** i mean it felt so real I miss U like I am reciting alphabets and skipped the 21th letter. I miss you What 4? Like I was counting 1 2 3 5 and forgot a numeral. May my feelings for you Rest In Peace, like our relationship was a funeral. You were my Hat I couldn't get you off my head, but now the sun is set, I don't need sun rays protection. Like a lawyer can I make an objection, You used to be my babe now you're my 24th alphabet X. Like excuse me, did I date you? What was I thinking Like Ex Curse you, I Hat you now get off my head. I gave you my heart but you took my soul too, Satan. I gave you my Hut but you thought you were so High Class so You couldn't Stay. I called you Rihanna, but you didn't Stay. Just because I begged you not to leave, you thought I was a street kid so like choosing not to go to the right direction you left me Standing there on the streets. Now like a comrade who went exile can you please comeback and UNSAY you love Comeback and UNHUG me Comeback and UNKISS me Comeback and UNLAY next to me on this bed UNLAUGH at my jokes. UNSMILE at me. I want you to UNREAD that letter I wrote you Comeback I want to UNTOUCH you and UNMAKE love to you. Unlove Me.
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Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 11:47 AM UTC
UNLOVE ME
You no longer cross my mind I burned that bridge. You took the wrong hand and left. This time my tears became mathematical, as I watched you walk away they drew 11 on my cheeks. I knew this time you weren't coming back so like dividing a 7 with 3, I remained here. Thinking about you, thinking about us Thinking about that last day you came into my room and we ****** i mean it felt so real I miss U like I am reciting alphabets and skipped the 21th letter. I miss you What 4? Like I was counting 1 2 3 5 and forgot a numeral. May my feelings for you Rest In Peace, like our relationship was a funeral. You were my Hat I couldn't get you off my head, but now the sun is set, I don't need sun rays protection. Like a lawyer can I make an objection, You used to be my babe now you're my 24th alphabet X. Like excuse me, did I date you? What was I thinking Like Ex Curse you, I Hat you now get off my head. I gave you my heart but you took my soul too, Satan. I gave you my Hut but you thought you were so High Class so You couldn't Stay. I called you Rihanna, but you didn't Stay. Just because I begged you not to leave, you thought I was a street kid so like choosing not to go to the right direction you left me Standing there on the streets. Now like a comrade who went exile can you please comeback and UNSAY you love Comeback and UNHUG me Comeback and UNKISS me Comeback and UNLAY next to me on this bed UNLAUGH at my jokes. UNSMILE at me. I want you to UNREAD that letter I wrote you Comeback I want to UNTOUCH you and UNMAKE love to you. Unlove Me.
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38
found out yesterday exactly when I move away the perfect opportunity of immunity to what people say just get away I could change me create who I want to be perfect chance get new pants different haircut could work, but just one thing objection in the parental ring I’m not allowed to lift the shroud over my identity to reveal the real me it’s not okay to be gay or bi, don’t even try you want to be a boy be quiet don’t annoy you’re not old enough just confused it’s rough you will learn to be straight, just see listen to what I say hide it away just a phase I hate that phrase don’t be a loon it’ll be over soon
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May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 7:35 PM UTC
don't be gay
I lost you at the start of this inception A process to change your haunted perception Fight it, fake it, Falling for my perfect deception Do you have the mettle, to allow this poison to settle? Embrace this ugly infection Sickness by forced injection. For you don't have the strength to last against the twisted demons of your past With one lonely taste, the devil awakes With the blood of angels, your lips are stained You have fallen, sinner, lost all you've gained Repent now? Too late! There will be no objection To this marriage of misconception Your pain truly hides inside this illusion My presence will only further push your bending mind into seclusion You haven't given me one silly reason To lend you my hand Is it your plan, To continue onward with this treason? Change? Unseen by the turning season This was all a lie, you won't get by This is where monsters come to die I control this twisted dream, The honorable seizin Let me lead you to the stream Where your ears can drown in haunting screams We can rinse your lying lungs clean Tear the tears from the obscene To burn your eyes, a brutal reception Savor the harshness of this deception
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Apr 10, 2011
Apr 10, 2011 at 9:21 AM UTC
Deception
I got a thing for you And I’m pretty sure you know it I regret yesterday For I let my feelings show it Ever wonder why The skies weep from above? It’s to hide the tears Of the dejected from rejection There’s no objection To my explanation Pardon my lack of discretion We do it all for love We do it all for hate There’s no neutral territory There no time for explanation There’s no time to set my mind straight If only you could fall in love with me Then we do it all For the possible chance That our one true slice of heaven Will be sweeter than, All our past miscalculations
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Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 4:46 AM UTC
If only you could fall in love with me
1388 Those cattle smaller than a Bee That herd upon the eye— Whose tillage is the passing Crumb— Those Cattle are the Fly— Of Barns for Winter—blameless— Extemporaneous stalls They found to our objection— On eligible walls— Reserving the presumption To suddenly descend And gallop on the Furniture— Or odiouser offend— Of their peculiar calling Unqualified to judge To Nature we remand them To justify or scourge—
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2.7k
Those cattle smaller than a Bee
each of life's moments are formed by shadow and light.. rare moments of light connect lingering shadows of habit.. a claimed experience of light draws objection and challenge.. challenger not aware light is linked with secluded shadow.. there keys are found unexpectedly opening doors to experienced light.. humanity streams from a hidden source.. experienced only with keys connecting darkly.. awakening to the unmentioned ..innuendo.. (this poem inspired by the first paragraph of Emerson's Over-Soul)
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Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 4:28 PM UTC
innuendo
Pointed in the right direction direction is toward my reflection reflection of my lost connection connection to a large collection collection of misplaced affection affection towards my own selection selection of my self rejection rejection leads to infection infection of a lesser perfection perfection based on inspection inspection and easy detection detection leads to objection objection to the cross section section of my imperfection
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Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC
Section of my Imperfection
By: Cedric McClester You know he’s full of stuff When the evidence ain’t enough And he’s acting like a cream puff By not calling Putin’s bluff If I labeled him a scaredy-cat Or better yet Putin’s new doormat Would that raise the thermostat, And flush out that Norway rat? When the evidence is irrefutable To the point that it’s not disputable His response is always mutable And comes out as most unsuitable Then his mouthpiece attempts to frame An alibi, but we’re hip to her game She can’t absolve him of the blame Though she tries to just the same So you better believe and trust That she looks ridiculous When she’s being duplicitous By trying to fool the rest of us It’s a sin to stand there and lie But she gives it a college try Like the mistress of deny As if the Ten Commandment don’t apply They interfered with our election With a clear cut interjection Of cybernet deflection Without protest or objection Two days before his inauguration He was told of the Russian’s participation Much to his own consternation Yet he still voices reservations Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018.  All rights reserved.
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Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 1:15 PM UTC
YOU KNOW HE’S FULL OF STUFF
New hire Mentor acquired Office chatter Wine glasses clatter Invigorating conversation New contemplation Uninhibited imaginations Aggressive flirtations Adamant objection Withdrawn rejection Impassioned surrender Ecstatic splendor
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Feb 9, 2012
Feb 9, 2012 at 2:20 PM UTC
Progression
*This poem based on a joke on eggs (!) is dedicated to Timothy, a fellow-poet here at HP….I  was reminded of that joke about eggs  by Timothy’s comment on my recent poem: “Corax versus Tisias”.   Timothy:  “This is great, Raj, another humourous poem with a good meaning, if you are an Egg or a Crow, lol! Keep them coming!!!!~<3<3:):)☺♂♀♥♠♣♦◘☻◙•○.O♫” … Well, here’s another humorous poem, Timothy – and dedicated to you…* Dad, the Kid, and the Girl Next Door (1) “Dad,” says 6-year-old Tim back from the neighbour’s *“Sandra next door and I’ve decided to get married”* Dad laughs…What do these kids know? he thinks… *I’ll humour him, just kid along with this precocious child of mine* (2) “But you’re too young, Tim,” says Dad “That’s OK,” says Tim *“Sandra doesn’t mind I’m a year younger than she”* “Oh,” says Dad *“but marriage is such a huge responsibility”* “Yeah,” says Tim quick and sharp *“Haven’t you seen my school reports? Teacher always says I’m hugely responsible; it’s the same on Sandra’s card”* Dad’s smile weakens *“Well, what will the two of you do for money?”* *“Oh, we’ve worked that one out We get $20 a week in pocket money between us and we reckon we’ll take on extra jobs: I can mow our lawn; and she’ll wash dishes at her home Beside we’ll save a lot of money since we don’t at all eat out and lodging is free - a week here and the next at Sandra’s”* (3) Now Dad has lost his smile These kids have thought of everything, he thinks.  *I’ve got to do better – come up with an objection that’ll  strike fear* “Have you thought, Tim,” says wise old Dad *“about babies? Married people make babies – what you going to do about that?”* “Simple,” says Tim the kid, cool and unperturbed *“We’ve googled all that: Every time Sandra lays an egg I’ll crush it under foot!”* Dad sighs with relief…
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Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 2:15 AM UTC
Dad, the Kid, and the Girl Next Door
*This poem based on a joke on eggs (!) is dedicated to Timothy, a fellow-poet here at HP….I  was reminded of that joke about eggs  by Timothy’s comment on my recent poem: “Corax versus Tisias”.   Timothy:  “This is great, Raj, another humourous poem with a good meaning, if you are an Egg or a Crow, lol! Keep them coming!!!!~<3<3:):)☺♂♀♥♠♣♦◘☻◙•○.O♫” … Well, here’s another humorous poem, Timothy – and dedicated to you…* Dad, the Kid, and the Girl Next Door (1) “Dad,” says 6-year-old Tim back from the neighbour’s *“Sandra next door and I’ve decided to get married”* Dad laughs…What do these kids know? he thinks… *I’ll humour him, just kid along with this precocious child of mine* (2) “But you’re too young, Tim,” says Dad “That’s OK,” says Tim *“Sandra doesn’t mind I’m a year younger than she”* “Oh,” says Dad *“but marriage is such a huge responsibility”* “Yeah,” says Tim quick and sharp *“Haven’t you seen my school reports? Teacher always says I’m hugely responsible; it’s the same on Sandra’s card”* Dad’s smile weakens *“Well, what will the two of you do for money?”* *“Oh, we’ve worked that one out We get $20 a week in pocket money between us and we reckon we’ll take on extra jobs: I can mow our lawn; and she’ll wash dishes at her home Beside we’ll save a lot of money since we don’t at all eat out and lodging is free - a week here and the next at Sandra’s”* (3) Now Dad has lost his smile These kids have thought of everything, he thinks.  *I’ve got to do better – come up with an objection that’ll  strike fear* “Have you thought, Tim,” says wise old Dad *“about babies? Married people make babies – what you going to do about that?”* “Simple,” says Tim the kid, cool and unperturbed *“We’ve googled all that: Every time Sandra lays an egg I’ll crush it under foot!”* Dad sighs with relief…
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51
'You! What d'you mean by this?' I rapped. 'You dare come on parade like this?' 'Please, sir, it's-' ''Old yer mouth,' the sergeant snapped. 'I takes 'is name, sir?'-'Please, and then dismiss.' Some days 'confined to camp' he got, For being 'dirty on parade'. He told me, afterwards, the damnèd spot Was blood, his own. 'Well, blood is dirt,' I said. 'Blood's dirt,' he laughed, looking away, Far off to where his wound had bled And almost merged for ever into clay. 'The world is washing out its stains,' he said. 'It doesn't like our cheeks so red: Young blood's its great objection. But when we're duly white-washed, being dead, The race will bear Field-Marshal God's inspection.'
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2.3k
Inspection
. and your mug shot's shining through it's a vision true   (but the subject's taboo)               all             ugly               here morning sunshine    breakfast table    autumn cool you're poised to speak   a fly lands on your lolling spoon     then   i stand up merry                                       i make my vital move      the table backs away  distressed your eyes raise    i flop open my faminous mouth   and let the fumes draw in Surprise ! (no time for you to hold surplus breath -                              - form an expression - make any objection)               mechanism disjoints    like the raw riches i whip the plumb weight of my head   and strike mouth-chomp-grip   over your scalp and i am working you in with swift jaw shifts and hingery i **** on you with a smile and gullet                                         (past photos of you   shuffle glaucous before my inner eye) yap sock muscle   i operate   gumming on your head (ours was the world ; we got so lazy) budging in your hair   dampened by my saliva (our timid first meeting at a bar) and airway and my teeth softly folding back (us in bed-us in bed-us-in-bed)                                    and whole hog jaw agog (the tourist we made as a couple) i dilate and distend  crouch low to take your weight (the rise and falter of your sleeping chest) upend  your hands panic typing in the air         (the eyes of your investment in me) your feet flinging the heft back and forth        your shoulders break in and forward folding my chest cracks and wells                             (gifts we gave that touched heart and others that fell short) a complete engulfing meal of you                 (your childhood antidotes and teenage feelings we discussed) down my soft disposal                                      (all my memories of us in a fizz                                                                and all the inaccuracies) ...and then i head off to hibernation           ferrying an idea that ' i have you now '            that   perhaps you were my enemy                                                           all this time and i am digesting the beast                       (what a feast !)
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Sep 16, 2024
Sep 16, 2024 at 9:39 PM UTC
g u z z l e (devouring the beast)
. and your mug shot's shining through it's a vision true   (but the subject's taboo)               all             ugly               here morning sunshine    breakfast table    autumn cool you're poised to speak   a fly lands on your lolling spoon     then   i stand up merry                                       i make my vital move      the table backs away  distressed your eyes raise    i flop open my faminous mouth   and let the fumes draw in Surprise ! (no time for you to hold surplus breath -                              - form an expression - make any objection)               mechanism disjoints    like the raw riches i whip the plumb weight of my head   and strike mouth-chomp-grip   over your scalp and i am working you in with swift jaw shifts and hingery i **** on you with a smile and gullet                                         (past photos of you   shuffle glaucous before my inner eye) yap sock muscle   i operate   gumming on your head (ours was the world ; we got so lazy) budging in your hair   dampened by my saliva (our timid first meeting at a bar) and airway and my teeth softly folding back (us in bed-us in bed-us-in-bed)                                    and whole hog jaw agog (the tourist we made as a couple) i dilate and distend  crouch low to take your weight (the rise and falter of your sleeping chest) upend  your hands panic typing in the air         (the eyes of your investment in me) your feet flinging the heft back and forth        your shoulders break in and forward folding my chest cracks and wells                             (gifts we gave that touched heart and others that fell short) a complete engulfing meal of you                 (your childhood antidotes and teenage feelings we discussed) down my soft disposal                                      (all my memories of us in a fizz                                                                and all the inaccuracies) ...and then i head off to hibernation           ferrying an idea that ' i have you now '            that   perhaps you were my enemy                                                           all this time and i am digesting the beast                       (what a feast !)
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47
The staff, who are stuffed full of paper, stapled, on white, are to be circulated with minutes, full of minutiae, but only the chosen staff will receive such chaff, intricate, in triplicate, and the others will have to wait for memoranda, definitely not grander, on subjection, objection and rejection for the weary and unwary. The brochure on staff conduct will be grosser, and superannuation won't be super. There will be no more staff resolutions, no revolutions, so that managers can preserve the status quo and hasten slow. Talent is banned, promotion is underhand, ass-kissing is in, no sin, and perks, no jerks, are for the executive few. ***** you.
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Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC
Bureaucracy Blues
Passions I have a few Questions I have many Perceptions are in a constant flux Emotions go on with out control The heart space fluctuates Physical motions do not reflect the interior Goals I have no use for Intentions change with the wind All things I hold All I that I have brought Have fallen to the wayside Persecution does nothing for me No matter how I perceive my concept of growth Someone finds a logical objection **** your logic I will not be swayed Leave me to my To this misconception
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Mar 9, 2010
Mar 9, 2010 at 9:35 PM UTC
misconception
The underlings stare In submissive awestruck Subjugation in landmine-filled Landfills, are stuck In the trenches, the feces The carcass-strewn muck Where the vermin-spawn **** As they're taught how to work And to fend for themselves Like the Fall of Dunkirk As the imminent doomsday device overhead Incapacitates them As mere prey to a web Of a global dominion Ambition connection Subconscious hive-mind Buzzing out the objection And phobia-spreading Pandemic misanthropy Greed in disguise Subsidizing atrocity Not for me, I am The justified treason The reason the man-hunters Close open season The cease-fire peacekeeper Proliferation The water war's rising Desertification An MIA runaway AWOL defector Still haunting the tombs of detente Like a spectre With what I assure Mutually in the end When I send go-aheads On the ICBMs And avenge the dependent expended Caught in This crossfire for-profit Arms race it has been
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Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 3:33 AM UTC
Zero Hour