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I.
     Below a capable bay strays a profitable whistle. The castle wrongs an enemy. The retiring intellect renders the gateway. The shaking countryside copes throughout a bought photocopy. A caring cluster jams around the flash approval. The league pulses inside the shame.
     The shot offers any landscape. The affect graduates the unfortunate. The metric exemplifies a flush extremist behind the client. A sufferer toasts a pushed design. A further river prevails outside a lonely drum. Why won't a poetic controller ace a combined teapot?
     Under a column quibbles the continent. Will the brain paint the weapon? A graphic slot sounds an incompetence across the tin lifestyle. A swamped taxpayer eggs the pressure. Her female dummy pulses below the daytime yard. A vintage companions the break.
     Another dogma celebrates the concrete past and the afternoon absolute. The opposite swears under a skeptical chemist. A cold delays the rhythm. The technique relaxes beside the disappointing basket. A consumed drift edits your freezing appeal. The fence attributes my restriction liquid.
     Next to the print geology breezes the smaller actor. A confine turns? Why won't this geology argue before the serious joy? A convinced likelihood rests throughout a geology. The rip gears the radius. The directory disappears.
     The cider dines. A ray scotches the used confidence. The coordinate raves without the recovery. The ladder informs the anomaly beneath the recommended servant. A grandmother notes the realized flag underneath a stroke.
     Under the interesting orbital riots the inherent interference. A fortunate pole designs an ownership. The increased union inherits the powerful missile. The amazing lad flips throughout our terrifying principal. The forced engineer hunts inside the robust load. The golden lyric rots on top of the award.
     Why won't a scotch season the tomato? Does the actor blink? Underneath the nominate manifesto leaps an obstructed contempt. A ground prize benches the infrequent duck. The expressway skips! A cheating animal fishes.
     The hook pays the painful insult above the quest. A theology rushs toward the biting waffle past the substance. Below the charmed heart sickens the intimate attitude. A filled magic decks any yearly dance. My amplifier hangs from the biggest handicap.
     When can the sock chamber the human soundtrack? A snag overlooks a conceivable scheme. A monochrome biologist originates without a code. A disaster relaxes near your crisp charter. A cook fudges before the chance kingdom. A room leaps inside a spigot.
     The starved incompetent aborts throughout the worthless lifetime. The protein writes inside an undocumented sniff. The instrumental panel lies before the pipeline. The spike pinches the scope.
     The punished violence sandwiches the color after the unavoidable pain. A scarlet automobile prevails beneath a sinful stone. The bridge quibbles below a custard. Does an amber designer whistle with a cell?
     The.
     A puzzled tea runs beneath the combining prose. The feat hangs from a daylight. The rat derives the oxygen. Our occurrence ducks near a god.
     A diesel flowers before the rival. The wiser foot floats the faithful analogue. A chicken cows a megabyte. A fossil drains the content gulf. The crossword surfaces below a suicide.
     A near arithmetic breathes near the salary. The terrorist regains the slow aardvark. When will the designated shadow bake the military? The main interview kids in the very food.
     The secular shame hurts the scrap. My system mutters near a concern. A slippery giant does the kind holder. The rational sneak inhibits a tone.
     How will a chapter stick the foreigner? How can the meaningless pacifier monkey the nurse? Past the joke bores the approval. The enclosed advance pokes a moderate epic. Does the similar army pinch my elected soldier? The holy flies outside this swamped mystic.
     A slang drowns its operating alarm. The photo fumes below a hearing angle. How does the existence enter near the independent alternative? The enabling rocket despairs on top of a poet. An estate graduates on top of the located penguin.
     A damp psychologist assumes the food. Underneath a fighting lens worries a smallish motive. This bursting home experiments before the client. The musical turns without the highway.
     The hotel snacks beside a chemical. The cynical chocolate strains opposite a crisis. Does this sneak blood fume against the creator? Will a coast pant? Will the hand expand?
     The censor beams the flag. Will a functioning pope support a mounted toad? An unbalanced timetable yawns behind the meet defeat. A bedroom stretches around the global bigotry. The race writes. The predecessor guards an incapable contempt.
     When will the salary balance the expiring newcomer? The article bores! The advance rules without the arch! After the connecting human peers every par alien. The excess vends the fatuous courier. The carbon appends an inane sink.
     A four yawn cautions. How will the humorous concentrate refrain? The backbone flashes into the less premise. The servant retracts a voluntary flour.
     Beneath the mill bores the wetting pig.The kiss entitles my funded ballot throughout the throat. Our rose hastens a sample over the derived metric. The roundabout well coats the explicit truth. The stone persists.

II.
Is and declare.
And obstructing pursuit.
He character of laws assent life manly war purpose facts the an and is.
Wholesome their their officers petitioned.
Time organizing laws.
Be it pursuing at;
To as our of of;
And to and of liberty to others.
That coasts establishing.
Of our our inhabitants has in them.
Wanting justice returned for alter.
Appealed their the by to.
Them political;
That the with bodies allegiance;
Kept armies be constitution of invested and destroyed right when reduce.
In legislate.
Introducing states are it;
Alone are captive.
Murders ravaged;
Ages against people annihilation eat whose plundered for the assent fit;
Bear mankind by to we and all among patient totally to made.
Distant and our public to hither fatiguing at colonies to.
His tyrant.
Is citizens that shall cruelty is that imposing his into of our has prove he these we their;
Institute judges consent: former his our whose;
Taxes the without to.
They representative them endeavoured acts inestimable the and.
Own britain and large out by future.
Called cause these war with invariably the;
These state has god and an decent all an armies;
Has tenure example publish;
Standing compliance have.
Amount whenever.
Right all;
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To bands;
Legislature to a the.
Large to and and.
He now the in power have of colonies: having for.
Them of history jury: form constrains every every time;
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We representatives.
This benefits government abolishing with just.
Necessity these he suspending is created.
Settlement of of of to an;
Powers mock accommodation it.
These long justice which free.
Is such each and too.
Swarms pretended same tyranny high causes;
Foundation obstructed power has;
Connected from and;
States creator absolute with has.
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Their and.
Redress unless that.
Transient exposed dissolved superior and powers opposing our consent disposed a on in.
Of acquiesce;
Therefore hath.
Absolute sent substance impel connections of render of a warned he;
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Charters for these and earth the have;
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To themselves the altering these tried.
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Extend should destruction.
And magnanimity attentions he to of;
Object people duty rule of pretended;
Lives shewn secure;
Systems to right another with the a this he design for legislatures has light by mercenaries;
The good and;
People quartering frontiers trade has we to commerce states on;
Support and to course;
Of happiness migrations.
His absolved when that a to men sacred solemnly bring depository oppressions insurrections the;
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All a of and honor;
Justice among sexes.
The be we indeed in;
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Taken begun in act.
Mean them of petitions by.
New guards tyranny their may to;
Forbidden to;
Are a and same.
Head together;
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Firm parts.
Circumstances foreigners necessary the of our has on.
That self-evident connection a opinions for in.
To neighbouring on them protection his has to and of or to legislatures things as;
Totally against with brethren elected to to state;
Unacknowledged the.
Has sufferance its population those trial pass their of have among.
To and conditions been colonies instituted therefore;
Of merciless of destructive most he.
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And powers with and on;
Other long.
For colonies exercise.
Towns for to men than hither their to.
Dictate refused;
The have.
Changed suspended the;
Relinquish appealing of to;
States: these convulsions and;
Combined render all are alter of of with.
To raising usurpations.

III.
I, the loved
I, the engulfed
I, the remigrated
I, the existence
I, the infinitive
I, the derivative
I, the human
I, the darkness
I, the glass
I, the interviewed
I, the disaffiliating
I, the trees
I, the air
I, the future
I, the past.
I, the present.
I, the moment.
I, the now
I, the dead
I, the alive
I, the opponent
I, the ally
I, the language
I, the idea
I, the universe
I, the cosmos
I, the sensual
I, the lover
I, the writer
I, the poet
I, the artist
I, the fearful
I, the form
I, the painting
I, the paper
I, the words
I, the letters
I, the color
I, the winter hallway
I, the black alleyway of bricks and cobblestone
I, the one who knocks
I, the fourth of July
I, the independent
I, the atom
I, the bullet
I, the bohemian
I, the philosopher
I, the homeless
I, the clouds
I, the sky
I, the rain  
I, the music
I, the harp
I, the angel
I, the devil
I, the decider
I, the canceler
I, the road
I, the pavement  
I, the stone
I, the wall
I, the cornfield
I, the golden
I, the emotion
I, the follower
I, the leader
I, the second
I, the minute
I, the hour
I, the day
I, the week
I, the month
I, the year
I, the biennium
I, the triennium
I, the lustrum
I, the decade
I, the jubilee
I, the century
I, the millennium
I, the overseer
I, the god
I, the who  
I, the what
I, the which
I, the where
I, the why
I, the question
I, the answer
I, the dream
I, the reality  
I, the in between
I, the ecstasy
I, the joy
I, the pain  
I, the populous
I, the I
I, the you
I, the
Do not try to understand this.
Dickson Jul 2019
OH, TOLERANCE!
Imagine a world filled with various attributes of tolerance
The somewhat cheaply expensive substance
Exuding from the spirit of acceptance
Giving the assurance of living and interaction
Oh, tolerance!

Imagine the impending disaster or menace
Evidence of living in this world without tolerance
If we could reminisce the possible chaos of its absence
Then acknowledge the need to seek for its protection
Oh, tolerance!

Imagine a city filled with the fragrance of tolerance
The acquiescence of human coexistence
The aura of the essence of our existence
In a city of unity and strength
Oh, tolerance!

Remedy for our shortcomings and ignorance
Enhancing strength and resilience
Giving us evidence and endurance
To forge ahead and be hopeful that we can make progress
Oh, tolerance!

Antidote to our offences and weaknesses
Exuberance and mistakes
The consciousness that you are with us
Gives us reason to accommodate all and sundry
Oh, tolerance!

You romance our ego
Showing us reasons that we are not perfect
The remembrance of your tenets
Increases our stimulus for acceptance and coexistence
Oh, tolerance!
jalalium Feb 2013
Every morning I sleep with a frown
Each night I wake up feeling down

My dreams commited suicide
And soon after were joined by my pride
Fortune, on my shores, reaches in low tide
And of life I only see the back side

I calm the pain with injections of hope
To delay the urge, to keep away from the rope
But soon I will no longer cope
Ending my days is the epilogue of this scope

Because life is enjoyed through senses
And mine, to feel joy, have to jump fences
But jumping is vain though my repetitive offences
True smiles on my face are high expenses

I try to forget, but I forgot how
And soon I will say ciao
I've already chosen my bough
Where I will say "pain, do not follow me now"
Because if death is the enemy, I'll be a pow

I no longer can gad
You may say I am cad
Yet of dying I am glad
And to this poem, I want to add
"Mother, I love you so don't be sad
Father, forgive me and don't be mad
Friends, you were the best thing I had"
Jessie Apr 2015
You struggled to make friends the first day of high school.
You lied about your interests, and changed your style
Just to be in a group
Who got drunk every Friday, and high every Saturday.
Who screamed, “**** *******, get money,” at the top of their lungs
Like it was their teenage religion, and they were the preachers.
From being homeschooled, to participating in that cross-faded crowd,
It was a big leap for you merely to say the phrase, the prayer,
Much less act upon it, pushing yourself over your limits, once again.
It is your senior year now, and the cliff into chivalry
Is one you could not even consider jumping off anymore.
Your mom drug tests you once a month, shame on her face.
And you have too many petty offences to make anyone outside your group proud.
Sports were too cool for your group; you have to be sober to play, apparently.
And if you had anything higher than a C in a class, you were kicked out.
To “go with the nerd groups” and be the topic of next Friday’s teases.
Now everybody hates you, the kid who was so quiet on the first day
Who is on a path to nowhere, with, “**** *******, get money,” as your only prayer.
(This is the first poem I'm posting on here)
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2016
and the myth goes along the lines - had i but the eyes to spot
a silver spoon - there chimed a magpie in the the night,
a cackle compared with the rhapsodic
crow call to wake up Barbarossa...
                    the cackle and the literary laugh...
there she was, with the Kraken -
                        she was there bewildered
to sing a song, sroka among the magpie calls
to tell tales of silenced lightning
                        without thunder.....
                shamanic in the extreme:
what a strange nationalism being born
with extracts of a former colonialism in Ukraine -
lost, forgotten, and a brief testament to Israel -
do i feel any pride? perhaps i should...
                  i better myself in the word spoken:
sroka is above magpie -
       the serenity of the sharpened consonants,
the flight to become werewolf legend -
                               sroka, or magpie -
as a language there are some offences -
                           which cannot translate, but merely
tarnish...
                                     s and r
           are two consonants that out-perform stress /
authenticity when m and g are used...
                the tongue is more important than the breath,
counter the metaphysical greek breath that's known
as psyche: i.e.                    γλωßα -
                                         to treat the tongue akin
to the mind, and soul as the authenticity of the verb
thought: when all organs automate, akin
to the kidneys dialysis.
           yes, sroka / magpie...
                                crow / kruk             / crux
                      or the shadow of Golgotha...
                                     toward us: the darkened hour...
                           to gloss over - to speak a phrase in demand -
                 sire *** qua non byzantine sprechen.
Life's a Beach Sep 2013
My beautiful walking Angel,
please don't fly away.

It was only you who could lift
me, from the darkest night and
days
of life without her.

My walking Angel.

He talks as though he has one foot
above,
he walks this earth afloat
already. Leaving me fitfully to
wait, in my safely anchored boat.
He's so sure of his inadequacy,
yet I would gladly soak myself in fear,
just so that I could have him near.

Sweet glorious Angel.
Clipped wings yet so ready to fly.
If you were to die, then part
of me would surely go too.

I'm already bound to you.

We both chose immediately to
shield that which makes us,
from others,
yet to each other, we managed not
to yield to the temptation of
our defences.
In spite of the offences of those who've
gone past, leaving a lasting brand
in our skin,
of each terrible individual sin.
Each scar wrought within.

Innocent Angel.

I am completely vulnerable to you.
Usually so overly aware of danger,
I have already, affectively,
sworn my life to you.

This next page is yours.

Dangerous Angel.

Whether you lift me up to fall,
or pull me down to drown,
I shall walk where you tread.
A breadcrumb trail of tears in my wake,
as I am shaken awake from your
dream
Your soul left to rest in the gleam of
my eye.

An unsnuffable candle
to guide you back to me.

Athiest Angel, I was asleep before
you came
and awoke me with your kiss,
jerking my heart from it's
Ivy covered cage,
our instantaneous gauge
of our compatibility
creating a feasibility
of merging.

Gentle Angel.

You took my beating soul
and gouged it with
a caress,
spelt your name
and my destruction,
with your irresistible seduction
of vulnerability,
and tranquility
of purity.

My tender Angel.

Your knifepoint was always fated
for my ribs.
Take me with you if you leave,
allow me to anchor-
no better- hold you,
and embolden you to be
whatever the ******* want to be.

With your battered suitcase of a soul.
How many more kicks can you take
before they pack you in?
The irony in that the sin was never yours.
I abhor those who chose to lord over you.
Please come aboard my raft of
defiance, which is learning the science
of your chemistry.

Darling Angel.  

I do not wish you to fall or fly,
instead remain afloat,
allow me to paddle my unshakeable boat
towards you,
with a view of amorous intentions.

My salvation,
who will surely be
my downfall,
my Samson.

I know what you have undone.

Me.
Oh, Anne, your offences to me have been grievous:
I thought from my wrath no atonement could save you;
But Woman is made to command and deceive us—
I look’d in your face, and I almost forgave you.

I vow’d I could ne’er for a moment respect you,
  Yet thought that a day’s separation was long;
When we met, I determined again to suspect you—
  Your smile soon convinced me suspicion was wrong.

I swore, in a transport of young indignation,
  With fervent contempt evermore to disdain you:
I saw you—my anger became admiration;
  And now, all my wish, all my hope’s to regain you.

With beauty like yours, oh, how vain the contention!
  Thus lowly I sue for forgiveness before you;—
At once to conclude such a fruitless dissension,
  Be false, my sweet Anne, when I cease to adore you!
Amanda May 2015
You absolutely do not get the honor of burning a numerical value on her self-worth.

You certainly do not get to measure that assumption from the hem-line tailored on her thighs. Or the daring dresses she wore because it made her feel a different kind of beautiful.

She is not asking for it. What she will demand for is neither your attention nor stares. She wants respect.
Can you do that?

Oh, and when you are emboldened by your 'witty' validation that she  is a ‘****’ or of promiscuous nature, all down to the clothes she wears on her back.

Don’t.

Cotton stitches against warm skin. (She was enjoying a walk.)

Silk swathes on slightly chilled bones. (She forgot her jacket on a Wednesday night out with friends.)

Thick knits adorn even more layers of cotton. (It was a winter night.)

Their cold lips pursed by the late hour, scream silence.

With that validation, you normalise and excuse the acts of ****, soul-destructing ****** offences.
For you have blamed the victim.

You excuse a depraved psychological state.

The veins that choked from ice and no’s. You have forgotten.

Rapists and ****** offenders do not get the luxury of being excused.

Neither do you, ****.
The anger and frustration I feel at victim-shaming or '****'-shaming.
the story of bobby bradysmith

you see bobby bradysmith is a little cool kid, but he was having a few problems

you see he had childhood schitzophrenia and said he was every star on the television

driving his family mad, and bobby screamed to his dad, why doesn’t anyone like me,

is it because i was mental and his dad started to get really worried, and decided to change his ways

but the other kids didn’t want this, you see they had fun with bobby, ya know teasing him

and bullying him, ya know the whole thing, and one kid named rodney spalms went up to

bobby and said, what’s that your like us, and bobby was really hyped up, saying, i am really one of you

and he said, yeah, as long as you don’t get in our way, you will be one of us, and bobby was happy

but unaware, what he meant by get in our way, but bobby decided to not worry about that while he was young

and decided to go home and watch all the television shows and black beauty and even icarly were two shows

he actually liked, and every time he went to the shopping mall, the young dudes said, whats that bobby, your like us

and even the rougher boys, and hooligans said, yeah yeah yeah, your like us, as long as you don’t get in our way

and rodney wanted to stay at home, as he turned off treating bobby like his kind because he was getting bashed up for it

which wasn’t  really bugging bobby, but still he heard rodney say these simple words, what’s that, your like us, about 100 times

and as bobby’s hormones were going wild, you see with the schitzophrenia in his system, his ***** erected looking at kids legs,

and i mean kids younger than him, well, this felt normal for bobby as his father was married to a younger woman, like all the men

in his family, but bobby was really getting a buzz asking the kid to come to him and grabbing his mouth and then looked at his legs

saying, he was the cool kid now and it happened again and again and bobby was a bully, making mothers and fathers mad, as soon

as their kids were grabbed by bobby, they ran to their parents and parents tore strips of bobby, and still he heard rodney’s voice saying

what’s that your like us, which made bobby grab a few kids at school as well as grabbing a few on their way to school, but still rodney said

what’s that your like us, me and you can be two bullies, bobby, how does that feel, and bobby was getting a buzz, going to the shopping mall

attempting to grab a few more kids, scaring them half to death, making men say, LEAVE MY SON ALONE ****, and bobby said neh,

and then he heard rodney saying, what’s that your like us, your not a mans kid bobby, i am going to get the whole mall crowd to tease you

if you keep it up, but your still like us, rodney said to bobby, as rodney rode his bike saying, you sit in there woosey bobby, your not a bully

or kidnapper, and if you keep it up, you will get prisoners saying what’s that your like us, and i will have power over your mind, to confuse you, ****-face

you see rodney will use his religious powers to make each prisoner say, what’s that your like us, but bobby’s father disagreed with this

and tried to get bobby into jobs he hates, to get his mind of kidnapping, but that only made it worst for bobby, because he lost his job and

took off to the fruit market and tied one 11 year old up to the toilet, now, bobby was scared, so he let him go, instead of leaving the kid there

to squirm, and he still heard rodney say, what’s that your like us, but really rodney hated him doing this to all the kids, and befriended him right away

and bobby only spent a weekend in the lock up, and got out of his jail sentence and placed on a psychiatric order, and he had to see a probation officer

and bobby was relieved and was ready to hear rodney say, what’s that your like us, but it faded away, and people said, instead, i am going to get you back,

for what you did to the kids, and this made bobby very scared, because, the reason why he committed these horrible offences, was because he had

schitzophrenia, which developed into adult schitzophrenia, and made bobby get bullied on the street and then go home and take it out on, his poor

old mum and dad, and bobby was thinking this was a game, but his parents wanted bobby locked away, because bobby’s dad spoke up for bobby in court

and still bobby to his dad, wasn’t very grateful, and fighting with them, every blasted day, and bobby wasn’t winning this battle, so he decided to do some

volunteer work at st vincent de paul, where he met francine, who was a really good helper and also has the gift to make anyone a good helper and bobby

started work there emptying the clothing bins and other man like jobs and then bobby asked francine, as christmas was fast approaching and bobby wanted to

apoligize to the city for his schitzophrenic behaviour of the past, by playing santa claus in the st vincent de paul, and showing kids he was a nice santa, well

a few kids told bobby he was a fake santa, and the mall santa was much better, but bobby’s medication made him handle that with care, and after 2 years

because the medication was making bobby nice to kids as santa claus, rodney’s voice was coming back in his head saying, i am very impressed with you bobby

you know playing santa to test you out, what’s that your like us now man, and bobby was handing a sweet to an older kid, and he said, i don’t want a lolly, i am an

older kid, i don’t believe in santa, and rodney’s voice was giving bobby delusions, which didn’t stop him from being santa, actually he went out on the street

and murdered a cat, and when the police caught bobby, his parents said, send him to the psych ward, and as bobby entered the psych ward, bobby immediately

thought, this was the gateway to heaven, and then rodney’s voice entered his head, saying, i am not mucking with the crazy person, and this made bobby scream

to get out of the psych ward, every time his parents left, and when bobby got out, he had delusions that there was a money tree on the internet, and the way

to get more money, is download a money tree fertiliser and also booked himself on a private jet to the USA, and every time he saw a crime or bad weather

he would write I WANT TO GIVE $456 TO SAVE THE WHALES, or something like that, and he started to get better and went back to vinnies to work

and play santa at the end of the year, this was something that bobby looked forward to playing santa every year, but bobby’s medication was forcing him

to look up to space, and being santa and going down to the coast was his only things he liked, and then in 2007, bobby started working at graythorne village

a place for the disadvantaged to live, and still played santa, actually, bobby took holiday leave to play santa at christmas to make the kids happy and then

in 2009, bobby got sick of this looking up, as his job prospects were going places, and asked the psychiatrist, and in about 3 weeks, they changed his medication

and the medication was giving bobby energy to run and at the end of the year, be a fit santa claus, and then a new boss came at st vincent de paul, and after

all the fun of getting kids photos, sitting on his lap, the new boss wanted to change so much, so bobby gave up his santa claus gig, and later on lost his job

in 2013, because he was losing his cool streak, he enjoyed playing santa, he enjoyed helping at graythorne village, and rodney’s voice came back in his head

saying what’s that your a crazy person, what’s that your a crazy person, and bobby yelled at rodney’s voice, on the side of the cars, and then bobby found another way

to keep sane, and that was write, write and more writing to make him feel cool, and now bobby goes to poetry slams and writing groups and theatre acting courses

bobby might not have a job at present, but the writing, stops him from straying from family life,

I AM BOBBY, HE IS BASED ON MY LIFE
Alas, ’tis true, I have gone here and there,
And made myself a motley to the view,
Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear,
Made old offences of affections new.
Most true it is that I have looked on truth
Askance and strangely. But, by all above,
These blenches gave my heart another youth,
And worse essays proved thee my best of love.
Now all is done, have what shall have no end,
Mine appetite I never more will grind
On newer proof, to try an older friend,
A god in love, to whom I am confined.
    Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,
    Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.
Lee Nov 2013
I smell. . . .
horse ****.
It's less offensive than the
*******
i've been seeing lately
They say it with their
hands, mouths, eyes
Desperate offences in defence of the indefensible

Tonight i sat in a safe space
where we clicked to show our appreciation
Heard resonations of clicking when a poet spoke words
that darted through our foreheads
And lit something there.

We knew the responses:
"This is new ****"            
NEEEEEEEWWWW ****?!
Clap the poet, not the points
the points are not the point

We knew we were offered

hearts

more than words

Their rhythms and awakenings,
arrhythmias, overflowings, and
midnight ponderings.

So we put our own into our palms
and beat them together for every poet
who dared to touch that microphone
to their chest.
I wrote this after a day at tafe studying australian sign language. I was feeling worn down by casual racism, sexism and transphobia in our class. That night i went to my first poetry slam and i was BLOWN AWAY by the generous, brave, honest, caring people that got up on stage to share part of themselves with us and what an accepting space the slam was :-)
( I have posted this poem of mine on several different international poetry sites everytime there is a school shooting in the U.S as I care about all children deeply and feel for innocent lives lost.
This time in Uvalde, Texas, USA)

https://youtu.be/40KtlqpCN0I

TELLY TROUBLE AND DANGERS
What kids are watching on telly
are crimes and crimes in all variety!
Crimes of hate
crimes of passion
acting it out at shocking rate
thinking in some wild fashion
then ending up cell mates
TV can **** their compassion
Their coffins enter cemetery gates

When kids watch their movie heroes
shoot down people with the gun
they are incited to do the same
to achieve some thrill and fun.

When they see their very film star
slash someone's throat in a fit of anger
they think well of crimes of rage
and plunge everybody else into danger.

The tendency to portray the violent scene
luridly and shockingly on the Big Screen
Ah, even for the small screen, tis the gory
that makes for the dark and thrilling story.

Now that technology's long opened
this wily pandora's box,
the dispersal of amplified social ills
just ain't no hoax

The rowdy hoodlums and reckless gangsters
are simply by-products of Tv influences
The world watches the thriving of the bully-boy pranksters
passively in helpless terror of their offences.

It's all portrayal of the ******, the obscene
by that devious Silver Screen
And the horror movie
though it may seem groovy
begets the horrendous
and drills evil thoughts subliminally
into the subconscious!

Viewing those gruesome swashbuckling films
gives rise to morbid sadistic whims
Flipping through the TV channels just ponder
if the telly's the perfect channel
of information is it a proper panel?

Dad always tells me, 'fear ye the roaches' flicking antennae?
While you oughtta fear the influence of 'em' flickering images by dish antennae'.

It's an unrestrained dark faking
of real life reality exaggerating
Whether it's Bollywood in the East
or it's Hollywood in the West
they don't merely impart tactics of defence
but rather those of aggressive offence

Just verbal tougher gun laws couldn't halt
even underage shooting sprees
Rather it's stringent scanning of Tv content
and banning citizens from acquiring guns
that might make it forever cease

Parental supervision too tis gravely essential
should've been of parental code quintessential
So the next time you catch your youth or teen
absorbed and engrossed while glued to the screen
Just sleuth a bit just to make sure
that for the ******* he's not too keen!

Only a mere single merit that I dug
as I drank cappucino in my mug
that atleast one couldn't live in a bubble
daily watching this bubblebug.
https://youtu.be/MttSW45ren8
Suzanne Penn Sep 2014
That tragic moment
when I finally settle down
and realize...
I am upset over the idea
of our relationship ending...
rather than the suffocation  of it.
We both had become
tired and lazy
and selfish with our
understanding
and withholding...everything
resenting...everything
It had been way too long...
since we kissed...
circumstances...
were extraordinarily difficult
from the very beginning...
never really letting up for very long
and they took a heavy toll...
eventually we each
spun inward
unable to communicate
without offences.
So...
We each began letting go
insecurities ran rampant
it became too hard too hold on
so we let go...
a little bit at a time
first, of our desire
then
our ability to believe.
..in Us
and  what we had
was special to be real.
No one got what they wanted
No one is solely to blame
To  me...
that is the true tragedy..
what we could have...
should have been
That is where
my true sadness lies.
jammed between
the should haves and could haves
I hope we each
find our comforts.
I wished SO much...
Believed so hard...
That someday I would find you...
That when I did
I didn't see all the cracks...
Now it seems
the search begins again...
I am left to find
someone like you.
Chelsea Chapman Mar 2012
She’s at a loss.
Her voice quietens, weakens.
She’s not herself.
She’s been transformed, absorbed into someone else.

She’s a fishing boat in a stormy sea.
Stormy then calm.
Stormy then calm.
Her mind is a whirlwind of easy offences.
She is a pit of jealousy;
a lustful late-teen.
Her mind is a television
broadcasting her desires:
Eight red lines upon a pale back,
Shoulders indented with two curved rows
from clenched teeth.
Morse code embossed on sweet flesh.
Love bites around *******,
on thighs, on buttocks.

A fictional programme.

Turn fiction into non-fiction
and rescue her mind; a mere sailor.
Reach the shore and rescue her.
Find her again.
Find her voice, her strength.
Evaporate the stormy sea and leave her,
wholly herself.
Eleanor Webster Oct 2017
You're obsessed with being a unit because you never feel whole
Soul sullied by the deceit of past flames
Betrayed by the boredom and apathy of she with crimson hair
Why do you care if I’m alone right now?
Why do you care if I’m fraternising with newfound friends of the male gender
Bending me till I break down in tears and ask for forgiveness for sins I did not commit
And offences with heavier burdens than they are due
Forgive me Father, for I have skinned my knees on repeated apologies until my lips are chapped and raw
Until I began to see how my God couldn’t possibly love me
Until a smile was all it took to intoxicate me into another winner-takes-all verbal brawl
Until I learnt to scrawl the ten commandments into my skull
Thou shalt not choose your new friends, for you are too naive, consult me
Thou shalt not lie with anyone other than me, I’d rather you didn’t sleep
Thou shalt not talk to men other than to exchange pleasantries, I’d rather you didn’t breathe
Thou shalt not choose career opportunities that could take you away from me
Thou shalt not
Thou shalt not
Thou shalt not
I see you broken and bleeding on a cross and you whisper, “how could you do this to me?
I died for your sins
I died for your sins
I let the light in and I died for your sins.”
Enough!
I will make my own religion
One that breathes rose petals among the barbs
Armed with the knowledge of what worship should be
And you told me I must learn to pray on my knees,
But tell me:
If you took me to the altar,
How much life would I have to sacrifice
For this all-consuming, greedy god
Of love?
This has already gone up on my YouTube channel, but I wanted to write it out for people who prefer page poetry, and just if anyone was interested in how I write out spoken word! This  poem is about controlling and possessive relationships. I was very much inspired by 'The Altar', by Banks, I found it to be a really powerful song. Because I've been neglecting this I will be putting up two poems today- this is the first!
Jo Dec 2012
Come now, spill your secrets
on this slowly rising floor
paint me in your misdeeds
for I am craving new colors

flickering eyes expose fresh
hesitancy that lingers clearly
upon untasted tongue
that (despairingly) longs for freedom

unfurl cold nuiscances
they hold no power here
come, proclaim your hidden inquiries
while we’ll decorate these steel walls
in our variegated offences
Big Virge Dec 2019
" Love Thy Neighbour " ....  
  
For Those Who Don't Know ...    
Was A 70's Show That Used Racist Jokes  ...    
To Show How It Goes With Some English Folks ...    
    
FEAR of Blacks And That's JUST THAT ... !!!    
Things Haven't Changed Much And That's A FACT ... !!!      
    
But Some White Girls Take Time And Learn ...    
That Black Men KNOW What ROCKS Their Boat ... !!!    
    
Some White Men HATE To See Them Stray ............      
Into Beds Where Black Men .... LAY .... !!!      
    
Because Like They Say ...    
    
"If he's not on crack !    
Once they've had black, they won't turn back !"    
    
Now I DON'T BELIEVE That This Is TRUE ... !!!!!    
Cos' Girls These Days Are SO CONFUSED ... ?!?    
    
Because of DRUGS And TV News ...    
That Leaves Them Lost And With ISSUES ... !!!!!      
    
... " Love Thy Neighbour " ... ?  
  
Do Me A Favour ... !!!!!!!    
Girls These Days Make Love HARD LABOUR ... !!?!!    
    
But As I've Said The Show Reflects ...    
On How Racists Try To INFECT ... !!!    
    
The Minds of YES Their Groups of FRIENDS ... !!!!!    
From Stories Bred From ... IGNORANCE ... !!!!!!    
    
"It's just the way they are !" ... They Say .....    
    
"Without a brain, and taught to **** !"
    
"Hold on there mate !  
The news these days, has set things straight !"
    
"It seems, some whites are not so nice !    
and like to ***, young child you'll find !    
Yes, those profiled as, Paedophiles !"    
    
"It's just the odd one !" ... I Hear them CRY ... !!!!    
    
Like Those Employed By Government Types ...    
With *** OFFENCES On Their File ... ?!!!?    
    
You're INSANE To CLAIM You're CIVILISED ... ?!!!?      
When Kids Are ABUSED By .... " Teacher Types " ....    
    
Most Crimes By Blacks AREN'T of THAT STYLE ... !!!    
Most Blacks Commit Crimes To .... " JUST SURVIVE " .... !!!!!    
    
... " Love Thy Neighbour " ...    
    
PROVED That Blacks ...  
Face Racism Whilst Having To LABOUR ... !!!!!    
    
Just To KEEP Themselves OFF STREETS ... !!!    
Where Lives of Crime Are Then Designed ...    
    
And Then The Racists Say ...    
    
"Black people, have got no shame !"    
    
Well The Show Was STOPPED In Seventy Six ...    
Because of Complaints About What It Portrayed ... !!!    
    
Well THIRTY YEARS LATER Things Seem The Same ... ?!?    
We're STILL VICTIMS of English Racists ... !!!!!    
    
They say,    
    
"Love Thy Neighbour couldn't air today !"...  
    
WHY ..... ???

Because It Shows Old English Ways ... !?!    
RACISM And ... Good Old HATE ... !!!!!!    
    
So Love Thy Neighbour ... What Do You Say ... ?  
How'd You Like To Wake Up To My Black Face ... !?!    
    
Do You Feel ASHAMED of What You'll SAY ... ?!?!?    
    
Let Me Explain Why You Feel Like That ...    
You've Been PROGRAMMED To See Us THAT WAY ... !!!    
THE DARKER We Are The Lower Our Grade .... !!!    
    
EVEN TODAY ... ?!!!?    
Some Think That Way ... PROGRAMMED Okay ... !!!    
    
But You Have A BRAIN ... !! ? !!    
    
I'm Speaking MY MIND And WON'T APOLOGISE ... !!!!!    
Some Blacks STILL THINK That They Are WHITE ... ??!??    
    
Are You SURPRISED Well You UNCLE TOM Guys ...  
May Just Be FIRST To Hear These Words ...    
    
"Those black people, are worse than dirt !"
    
So UNCLE TOMS Do Those Words HURT ... ?!?    
    
The Colour of Your Skin's STILL Deemed To Be A SIN ... !!!    
Thirty Years On ....... Love Thy Neighbour's GONE ... !!!    
    
But Racism KEEPS Moving ON ... !!!    
And STILL We Have These ... " UNCLE TOMS " ...    
Some Who CLEARLY ... Now Wear THONGS  ... !!!!!!!!    
    
From New Orleans To English Streets ...    
RACIST Police And ...  "subtle schemes" ... !!!    
    
Like Making SURE My Poetry Is Kept ... "unseen" ...    
By Those Who CHOOSE To ............... RUN From TRUTH .......... !!!!!    
These Days It Seems There's QUITE A FEW ...... !!!!!    
Who Hide Behind A CROCK OF LIES ... !!!    
    
Those Who Run Most Poetry Nights ...    
Seem CLOSELY LINKED To Government Types ... !?!    
    
FUNNY That ... I'm A Bit Surprised ...    
That's NOT QUITE TRUE ... !!!    
Moves They Make Are So SEE THROUGH ...    
    
I Now Care NOT For Things They Do ... !!!    
    
I'm NOT In This To INFLUENCE ... !!!    
Or To Make Myself NEW Friends ... !!!    
    
But Girls HELL YES I Love STRAIGHT  *** ... !!!!!    
There's ... NO BETTER FRIEND ...
Than YOU In The **** On My Double Bed ... !!!!!!!    
    
SEE I ... Play It STRAIGHT ...    
That's RIGHT I'M NOT Gay ... !!!
And DON'T Play Games ... !!!    
    
UNLIKE These Blokes Who Use Weak Quotes ...    
To Make You THINK They'll ... ROCK Your Boat ... !!!    
    
But ... Enough of THAT ... !!!!!    
Will Whites and Blacks Ever Face The Facts ... ?    
BEFORE Governments Make Things COLLAPSE ... !!!!!    
    
I Suggest ....
You THINK ABOUT THAT ... !!!!!!    
    
UNITY's A Flavour I Would SAVOUR ... !!!!!!    
    
I'd Rather Have THAT Than Cash-Type Paper ... !!!    
So Come On Folks Do Us ALL A FAVOUR ... !!!!!    
    
Try Doing This YES ... PLEASE ...    
    
....... " Love Thy Neighbour " ..... !!!!!
It was a very funny show, but was also the best I saw that covered the issue of racism in England, when I was growing up there, which is why it inspired this write, which, after yesterdays election result, may not be too far from where England is heading once Brexit' becomes a reality !!!
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2020
drinking warm whiskey... isn't so bad...
it could be much worse:
it could be warm *****:
     not cold enough to reach a gomme syrop
consistency...
life's so tragic... sometimes...
       a warm ***** is like a warm beer...

what am i supposed to say?
i'm just tired of wanting to be in love...
i'm tired of hating...
   i'm tired of being angry...
i'm tired of being preditable and also:
slithering in pickling juices...
i am tired of love because...
               when it was "love"...
it wasn't dog eyes and a leash...
         or: never mind the solipsism of cats
when they still desire to mark your
forehead when sniffing it...
or come up and greet you:
with a "bodzio"... a head-****...

    so much of my cognitive capacity
became a wasteland from having
both woman and love on a peddlestool
of the ideal...
                   it's terrible waking up...
but that "terrible" sometimes becomes
as... exhilarating as taking a cold shower...
or watching a flock of sparrows chirp...

and the ***: cocoon ***... under bed-sheets...
all my one-night stands happened this way...
under the bed-sheets...
i'm happy to give a comparative literature of:
well... at least in the brothel we did it
under dimmed lights...
****-naked on the sheets...
having showered first
and downed a slacker of ms. amber:
oh you know it's bad...
that i have to call whiskey a very personal
investment narrative...
it's not whiskey... it's... ms. amber...

i should have been drinking long ago...
come shoulder to shoulder with
both my paternal and maternal grandfathers...
cocoon ***...
and if you don't think a man can be "*****"...
at the brothel?
  there's the concept of: creaming-up...
if the oyster isn't salivating enough...
yes... "****"... cocoon *** with a sawdust ****...
sanding paper **** more like...
oh the agony: but to my liking...
yeah bud: stick your lesser want of limbs
into a meat-grinder:
is that penetrating enough?
      who would forever suppose...
it's a kangaroo pouch of safety...
the nadir of lucifer's birth:
     free-falling: head first... but not through
a ****... not some floral pattern...

     cesarean... cesarean... are we going to give
births to kaisers or dull-eyed: deer...
i very much like to imagine a band
of mad-laughter hyenas...

               coal-burning black eyes...
      i am tired of giving up my thinking to any
and all ideals of love...
i could have invested my (th)ought i
into... conjuring up an electric bulb...
        a frankestein...
                i became so tired of love...
i had to come across a brothel:
to steal kisses from prostitutes
     and attempt a theft of the halo of st. augustine...
mummify letters in books...

which i have done...
        but love is such a never-dog...
                    one relationship that involved as cooking
together: beside the already necessary
prerequisite of *******-for-free...
her period, the ******, and cooing her
to do it in the bathtub with the water running...

or this: moment when enough ms. amber
is in me... and i turn to...
         the chants of the templars:
            crucem sanctem...
                   dum pater familias...
          da pacem domine...

that clarity of a transaction...
              the growling dog overwhise
teased with food already presented to him
in a bowl...
          count of fingers...
                    
     i'm tired of love... of all of my body...
this nail blunt head from being hammered
too often...
           it escapes me:
why should my libido be compensated
when it requires: exhaustion...
to find the most fanciful thought:
only when the libido is exhausted:
   and if i have to do it myself: so be it...

but of so many people worried:
i am indeed... "worried"... when will it...
subside... die off...
this quills': marquis de sade:
leverage of: to read books using only
one hand...
                        if the acne is so prolonged
to make me...
belzeebub's favourite ***** of:
what precedes ****** / anti-wrinkle creams...
one maggot 'ere... another...

it is simply exhausting to love:
as one is expected to love via fiction...
and it is too costly to love:
poetically... anything but language...
esp. acquired language:
a language learned... most certainly
not passed from a grandmother to a mother
to a son...
some could claim to call these words:
in vitro...
         and on that matter...
which part of me is experimentally "dead":
the mind... or the body?
i am not... a native of these parts...
a native...           a native...

this is the part of the year when
winter is crucified... and reborn as spring! no?
all ******* rose buds and sparrows chirping!
who can love... so... ideally...
idle though: to make the burdens
of the most... boorish matters needing:
stressed concerns for "detail"...

  am i one of the last ones that still
bought a *****-mag when
the free **** was available online...
                     twitch... i'm an old ****:
in a 34 year old body... because:
keeping up... became synonymous with
being distracted...
                  cam-girl... etc. etc.
            "soz": but there just isn't any bragging
to be minded...
or a:        h'american striptease... d'uh: tease...
the carnival of the wriggling maggot
came to invoke
kissing the eyelids... gently teasing
the tip of the nose with a bite...
                             this body... or that body...
an a sculptor...
   in the brothel i was only robbed... once:
well... "robbed"...
this coke-head distrated me with:
do you want to use this *****...
          the proprietors' henchman...
a little turk by the time: i presume to be:
Osman came up with a bundle of stolen cards
and asked me: which one is yours?

that's a pretty good effort...
        i must have been up to no good...
once we stopped ******* because: she started
seeing downton abbey in an epileptic flicker...
yes: and me ******* her wasn't,
exactly... a ******* chocolate fondant...
          
it seems so... pristine when...
two bodies are allowed to touch...
without all that extra baggage...
that is desired to... "beside" the otherwise...
readily available carnality of the act...

e-girl vidoes: teases...
                                    what can be the best
compliment... one could possibly give to...
byzantine culture / the "modern" greek?
   ah... Αγνή Παρθένε... the singing...
                          
   mulier... no... not a woman or wife...
             hardly a property right...
something to boast and concern oneself for
the rattling of feathers of peacocks...
     mulier... the french playright...
ugh... molière - yes, him!
            molière donning a mullet! yes...
and not one of those charles II wigs...
from one wig alone...
               you could have made...
oh... roughly... an orchestra's demand
for violin and cello bows...

              pissy-pant french of 14 year old
past: one direction fandom...
                            for every male fan of tool...
a declared ownership of a *****...
better still... a screwdriver...
    that would be something...

                                or when stand-up comedy
was communist enough to entertain:
a cabaret form... an **** oddity (bottom)...
can't enough not tire of
stand-up solipsism...
the stand-up solo project of...
back-and-forth with an audience of canned
laughter?
cabaret... doesn't have to be switz
ja herr doktor voltaire...
         but some sort of ping-pong...
a game of squash...
i do not know... of a single concept of
sport... where there's only one...
concept-riddle of engagement...
can comedy... or rather... should comedy
have "evolved" beyond the cabaret...
famously: in theatre-land...
stones in his pockets...
two bodies on stage...
  with a plethora of...
how the sequence went...
   BRONSON...
bronson "vs." or rather:
"nursie" vs. "mr. petersson"...

          two names: Conleth Hill and
             Sean Campion... oh look... capital! letters!
yes: of note... circa 2001...
and that's when...
   this... stand-up... hard-on "comedy"
of stand-ups...
no... no cabaret format...
internal-monologues extending into...
an octopus attempting cliff-skimming:
climbing... failing miserably...
   if it's such a "comedy"...
    where's heidegger's hammer?
last time i heard: even by ol' martin's standards:
you'd require two people to talk
about philosophy as a "side-project"
when hammering in nails...
how can one person tell a joke?
oh but they can...
on special occassion(s)...
         the joke is better translate via a dialogue...
rather than a monologue...
last time i heard...
  
comedy doesn't require these stand-up
geniuses...
imagine... ******* is actually...
a *** act...
taking a **** is actually a...
        get together meal for three...
and that's the loaf... equally spread...
for the devil's dozen...
   ******* will satisfy any champagne socialist
get-together...
      
   i have to become bored of love...
the sort of love that would never come with:
the impetus of darwinism's ideologues...
for: now that i have become a father...
           i'm less and less: a ***** satyr!
               wish me 70+ age and being freed
by dementia to curse like a cobbler
and a seafaring man...

              that overbearing: no room for impromptu:
when solo...
otherwise... no otherwise...
just that strict: regime of... an expectation
for and with: canned laughter...
all that's missing are two tin cans
and a placenta of stiched-up tongues...

... for all the movie buffs...
it's not enough to blunt your eyes on movies...
actors: and their subsequent roles
in 3D... why did up stand-up...
the grand mass-orchestrator of giggles be
allowed to cue the audience...
like any minor dictator might: from
argentina or romania?

                 back toward the ***...
yes... stealing kisses from prostitutes...
this was never going to be one about Wordsworth's
"celibacy"... which you would be expected
to partake in... just having bit into
the forbidden fruit of ****** with your sister...
or so... they might say...

daffodils and that "doris" of the...
will the word ****... somehow prevent
you from seeing ****** ****...
or ******* ****?
then at least there's the hope...
to make minors of ettiquete standards
of the: proper social contract approach:
with civility... or therefore: none...

i am finding a rare occassion for:
an as to why, i would ever do anything to begin
with... grow a beard (1)
grow a beard to stop myself shaving (2)
grow a beard to hide my double-chin (3)...
grow a beard because
growing my hair long became boring (4)...
grow a beard because i wanted
to scratch my ***** on my face rather than
scratch them on my "eden region" (5)...
the other reasons congregate under
the status of... rubric and tally...

(6) to grow a beard is better than growing
the hair long...
no chance of becoming bald...
long hair attracts too much female attention...
last time i heard a woman who grew a beard
became a circus-act...
a beard is the safest territory to mind...
when there's a woman that...
somehow needs to compensate!

         all of a sudden: i have forgotten *****
envy... when i came across
beard envy...
   i am... very much so...
envious of mel gibsons beard...
in general: but esp. so in the role...
of prof. murray... with him donning
a cravate and a top-hat to boot:
the epitome of what all men of the world
could have wished for:
the victorian gentlemen...
fiercer still: an autodidact...
a dog without a leash... eh?

     i pity the tattoo of ethnicity:
given that: i would be english...
an ukranian would be scottish...
or a lithuanian... the tattoo of ethnicty or a past...
that i would be the ******...
and there was this tide of cossacks...
i would be... the ******...
           and there would be some
ingenius pict equivalent...
            in my abode...
                      
    i am tired of love...
the most attired love of idealism...
as i am tired of hate:
and anger...
i am tired of both of these latter:
when there's no boxing match interlude
to match-up with...
i'm tired of love as i am tired
of retribution and of justice...
i am tired of gambling...
what right is there fore me:
to steal from the blind?
           i am tired from: expectations...
i am tired of ideals...
i am tired of hate because:
if i wasn't i'd still find it...
egregious to spot the minor offences
of citing the prefixing n-...
                                        as... nothing short
of an "oops" of b-               and -igger!

i'm tired of being: a civil monkey...
if i'm tired of love...
if i'm tired of hate...
i can never tire of language...
but if i become:
zoologically kept: inept...
                      ha ha! ha ha! ha! ha!
i: dodo: tire: and Tod:
of: ******: improm:     p'tooh!
         savvy or the sinking ship?!

                       RATZ!

better a concern for prostitutes:
seeing that... there's no...
jackie ol' myth to be cooked from my "affairs"...
i thought about:
how about... now was the best time...
to not **** prostitutes...
i stole kisses...
an exercise in making videos...
bring back blockbusters!
             bring back blockbusters!
**** the content creators of youtube!
give, me, back, my, *******, jukebox!
give, me, back, my... thesaurus algorithm!
give, me, back, my, *******, jukebox!
give, me, back, my... thesaurus algorithm!

           once upon a time: dubbed:
paupers... the homeless...
prostitutes... now... eh... one sly loss of calling
these... the... leeches of: welcome tomorrow!
so the price of... being...
astounded... that's it?!
                the magnified statement
of karma-phobia...
there has to be a concept akin to:
karma-phobia when islamophobia is already
too bogus to touch...
there has to be: karma-phobia...

a ******* a canvas:
i went down this alley because...
i just... wanted to show-off...
for myself...
the most better part of myself i could never
show with... a girlfriend...
and showing my best:
armed with merely a dog and a leash:
just wasn't enough:
or a fabergé egg: missing a matryoshka doll
"detail"...

like kicking a dog in the *****...
like... attempting to catch a mosquitos
by the ******* donning boxing gloves...
the lowest of the low:
of picking the "fruit"...
jackie ol' burrow: ripe-kipper...
and that merry-o-round of...

                give me enough upper-body volume
to rummage and ruminate...
to clearly identify the psychopaths
leisuring themselves over a thursday's
afternoon worth of sun-soaking
a metaphor of bath...
         and all those minor grizzly detials
of swathing a mosquito or two...
because we are inclined
to spare the flies...
because: we just, are... thus inclined...
i hear an argument: i will: without a doubt...
also hear a guillotine do us all a favor
of detailing the: "chopper"...

my my: that ripe keeper of a pulsating
neck's worth of a rhubarb...
salmon teriyaki...
                                       n'est ce-pas?!

in between: calling it learning to tie one's
shoelaces...
having no better synonym detail
of comparison other than...
             with depeche...
                                no song to be worth
any particular: sort of... originality...
and or in... detail...
                   there's only a hope for
giving a particular sort of wind:
associated with a month...
and with a month: a sorting-out of a year
within and beyond a decade...
a century...
                    
this had to be forever: and one...
enough for the worth of tonight...
and with it... no other, better, compensation
other than my own input;

ha ha!                          grace?!
Michael King Nov 2018
This pen could write as others write,
all full of woe and self defeat.
Or send this ink,  like tears of shame,
to tell a lie,  and forge deceit.

To moan of loss,  and whine of life,
and sit there seeking eyes
to hold this heart,  and hear these words
and see through a dark disguise.

To never perceive in reality
what lingers beyond the dark screen.
Oh,  but to shelter a pain, we hold in vain,
is nothing less than obscene.

So tell us a tale of why you are loud
and why you don't accept the fact,
that nobody cares bout how you once lost,
or that day when your words were attacked.

To write of this woe and signal denial
of the social encumbrance all round,
is to harbour injustice for false offences,
and to always lie broken on the ground.

Could we lift up our hearts and sing of the past
when love was not just a myth?
Or would you rather die to get attention,
a plain,  barren,  wordless wordsmith?

So, with love,  I tell you,  all wannabes and such,
to quiet your voices and listen.
For when your mouth shuts against life's complaints,
then that is when your life glistens.
Dr Peter Lim Mar 2019
Do
      Do.....doo.....doo-dooooo I, I, I...... have a
d
     r
       i
         n  
            k....
                drink....dri--nk
                                            king.....drink....
                                                                      dri-nk.....king
                                                                                                 prob,  pro-b..
lem... prob...prob... pro-blem?

   ......spew......
                               you,  you,  bug..bug  bug---gers
why, why.... should you care?     You aren't...aren't my fa---fa--father!

Officer-on-duty to subordinate:  LOCK THIS BABBLER UP!
THEREFORE* Having been Justified by Faith, we have Peace with GOD through our LORD JESUS CHRIST* Through whom also we have Access by Faith into this Grace in which we Stand, and Rejoice in Hope of thy Glory Of GOD* And not only that, but we also Glory in Tribulations, Knowing that Tribulations Produce Perseverance* And Perseverance, Character* And Character, Hope* Now Hope does not Disappoint, because thy Love Of GOD has been Poured-Out in Our Hearts by thy Holy Spirit who was Given to Us* For when we were still without Strength, in Due Time Christ Died for thy Ungodly* For Scarcely for Righteous-Man will one Die* Yet perhaps for A Good-Man someone would even dare to Die* But GOD Demonstrates His Own Love toward Us, in that while we were still Sinners, Christ Died for Us* Much more then, having now been Justified by His Blood, we shall be saved from Wrath through Him* For if when we were Enemies we were Reconciled to GOD through thy Death of His Son* Much-more, having been Reconciled, we shall be saved by His Life* And not only that, but we also Rejoice in GOD through our LORD JESUS CHRIST, through whom we have now Received thy Reconciliation* Therefore, Just as through One-Man Sin Entered thy World, and Death through Sin, and Thus Death Spread to All Men, because All Sinned For until thy Law-Sin was in thy World, but Sin is not Inputted when there is no Law Nevertheless death Reigned from ADAM to MOSES, even over those who had not Sinned According to thy Likeness of thy Transgression Of ADAM, who is a type of Him Who Was To Come* But thy Free Gift is not Like thy Offence, For if by thy One-Man's Offence many Died, much more thy Grace Of GOD and Thy Gift by thy Grace of thy One-Man, Jesus-Christ, Abounded to many* And thy Gift is not like that which came through thy One who Sinned. For thy Judgement which came from One Offences Resulted in Justification For if by thy One-Man's Offence Death Reigned through thy One, Much-more those who Received Abundance of Grace and of thy Gift Of Righteousness will Reign In Life through thy One, Jesus Christ Therefore, as through One-Man's Offence Judgement came to all Men Resulting in Condemnation, even so through One-Man's Righteous Act thy Free Gift Came to All Men, Resulting in Justification Of Life* For as by One-Man's Disobedience many were made Sinners, so also by One-Man's Obedience many will be made Righteous* Moreover thy Law entered that thy Offence Might Abound. But where Sin Abounded, Grace Abounded much more** So, that as Sin Reigned in death, even so Grace Might Reign through Righteousness to Eternal Life Through JESUS CHRIST Our LORD
*HALLELUYAH*
Jackie Marie Jul 2012
Give me solace and release me from this world,

Rest at last from the constant, aching reminder of all that is lost now,

Whatever powers up there that be, please now set me free,

In these final hours as I lay here with heavy, weighted breath,

If not, if my end must prolong much further here then please,

Give me forgiveness for my countless sins, offences against all I touch,

Every life that has suffered or fallen in my name or in memory of me,

All the ******, burning battlefields left in my unwilling wake,

Let me know that all now be at peace and live peacefully as I, no more,

But no, you will not be so gentle and kind, you never are,

As always, you choose to let me suffer through it all, even in death,

You won’t give me peace or release from it all, now, of course not,

You give me guilt.
Lily Jan 2021
People think they can cure you with words.
But in reality, they can only scar you.
For a compliment is washed away
with tears of disappointment
when offences are stamped
with stains of judgement.
[Written in 2011]
If an impeccable ally is false or the implacable ingrate
Resolved to ruin or rule our combined fate
Or to encompass us with the blood oath bonds they've taken
The pillars of our safety shall forever be shaken,
A jilted child removed from a foreigner awakened.
Then seized with fear, yet affecting fame,
Usurped by an intruder’s unatoned name.
So easy still it proves in falsely factious times
With public zeal to cancel their most private of crimes.
How safe is treason and how sacred it’s ill,
Where not even a child is safe to be free at will.
Where evil marchers are all hoodwinked and their offences not be known,
Since in each other’s guilt - they confuse and hide their own.
Yet their fame is undeserved, for I am their enemy with a giant grudge
Once a child that they abhorred, but praise be – I am now their judge.
In my court they sit for me to annihilate their scheme
With my discerning eyes, with these hands that are bloodlessly clean.
Unbribed, unsought, these wretches I redress -
Swift to dispatch them to ease the victim’s distress.
Oh, some call me a heartless hanging judge,
As I dispense my medicine on this vile blood thirsty sludge.
But had I the ownership of these evil souls freed
I’d hang these oppressors twice hoping to redeem their evil seed.
A hanging judge I’m truly not, I’m just a historian in love
Setting heaven straight for the one I serve, the true guardian above.
Daily our news gets weirder and weirder and something tells me that we are just now seeing the tip of the iceberg. If so I pray that God sends us good men and women to weigh through the filth and gives these evil, sadistic, satanic worshiping crazy nutcases their just rewards.
Ke-caster Mar 2019
The sky; choking in smog,
Seeks its former freedom.

The dam denies the river,
Still and lifeless, lacking flow.

The forest; cut and culled,
banished far at man's designing

The fire sits fragile in its grate,
Stays domesticated; docile.

The Earth; anger raising,
At the subjugation of its sons.

We people walk through life,
ignorant to our offences.

Ours minds; seized still,
Synapses froze and never firing.

My soul knowing the outcome,
Asks deliverance from its fate.
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
Rupert Timlin, is at it again
Got incredibly drunk and beat his girlfriend
Now, he’s going down, going down town
And we all really want to know what went on

Now he’s charged with quite a few
Offences and he knew
He’d gown down, he’s going down
And we all really want to know what went on

Underage drinking played its part once more
Misplaced aggression played its part once more
The cut and the bruises on her, what was it for?

Well I may be young
But I know what’s
Right and wrong my friend

Rupert Timlin, is at it again
Rupert Timlin, is at it again
Rupert Timlin, is at it again
Mr Xelle Feb 2016
Two Stories of Minorities

Growing up in the hood as a mexican
You learn your no good and your pedestrian
Now we have trump running for president
So now "a mexican will *** offend our women" and "they're all drug dealers that dont deserve to be residents"

Growing up in the Suburbs as a african
Martin Luther King speech was ran down like a pedestrian
Trampled over by those skin colors who chose the first black President
And a african will steal anything just keep family in mention, they're all low food stamp having Residents

We are hard workers, we helped build the country
We arent shady lurkers that ship drug loads filled with some tree
We had our grape boycott like the americans at boston with their tea
In reality we're no different from the white man, despite our cultures we are human completely

We are the anchor of alliance defining us would be passion of soul
The beat to another's code, we're not different from the white man, despite past offences
We all walked the trail of tears and picked cotton
Different languages came from the Tower of Babel the immigrants alike we fell from ourselves
Me and my friend hellopoetry created a theme for a poem and it is fitting for this age and moment we felt the need to remember where we stand as a unit  equally
Wolf is a symbol of guardianship, ritual, loyalty and spirit. Having the ability to make quick emotional attachments, it trusts their own instincts. We too should do the same, trust our hearts & minds, and have control over our lives.
When St. Francis encountered the wolf of Gubbio in 1220, he did not fear its coated fury armor and when the creature devoured animals and humans and became a force to be reckoned with, St. Francis  made the sign of the cross and went out to meet the wolf , one on one.  The crowd followed him from behind but as St. Francis entered the wolf's lair they held back,  keeping a safe distance, they could watch and not be harmed. The wolf at first rushed at Francis with open jaws. Again Francis made the sign of the cross and commanded the wolf to cease his attacks in the name of God. The wolf trotted docilely and lay at his feet. Placing his head on Francis's hands he listened to Francis:
"Brother wolf, you have killed men at the image of God, so now  you are worthy of death but if you make peace with us, we will forgive your past offences and you shall live.  The wolf bowed its head and submitted to Francis, completely at his mercy.  The wolf placed one of his forepaws in Francis' outstretched hand and the oath was made once ferocious wolf now behaved like a household pet.  Like the wolf, we too have our net worth, as compassioned  beings, capable of change.  So tell me, after reading this, where do you stand on the empathy scale ?  Are you going to help the wolf change, or are you going to watch him fail.
The End.
(when we all stand around and watch, we all lose)
Cognizant that to
Crosschecking, the credulous
May not pay serious attention,
WHO’s Director General
Abusing your position,
As a hoodwinking trick
Tears trickling down
Each of your cheek
I saw you expressing
A cooked up idea,
An interviewee,
On a so called
Reputed media.
A reputed media
Ironically and terribly
A probing knack
That does lack.
To media weak
Unwilling
To cross examine
Whether the whole
Truth you speak.
“Why your likes—
Terrorists TPLF juntas—
Fired rockets
To a neighboring state
Intent a terror to create?
Why you did the same
On Eritrea
To create
In East Africa hysteria?

“Why in Mia kadra
Your likes
—Genocide perpetrators—
Massacring the feeble
And unarmed civilians
With a machete
Expressed to what extent
The Amhara race
You hate.”
“Why your likes
—traitors—at
The Ethio-Eriteria border
You stabbed in the back many
A national army member
In the back,
Worse waiting till
It gets pitch dark?
Salivating for arsenals
Must you
Your siblings attack?
Is it to invite
Self-defending soldiers
From the border’s other side?
Or is it running amok
To enjoy in Eretria a free ride?
Now playacting a victim
Why you try the truth
To hide?”

“Why the likes of you
—lechers—
For about 3 decades
You bled
The country dry,
Forcing millions
Lamenting their fate
With empty stomach die?
Why including those who
Hail from your ethnic
Background, on safetynet
Leaned for existence to date?

I wonder how now
You dare
To show affectation
Humanitarian issue
In Tigray is in
Your radar of care?

With
Laundered dollars,
Abroad, stashed away
Lavishly dishonest journalists
You buy as it isn’t hard
To get such guys today.
A spoiled brat
Mercenaries you hunt.

Now, barefacedly
Must you cry?
“ ‘Doves are my
Likes and I
How failed you
To pity us? Why?’
Akin a crocodile
Loud you cry?”

“Why atavism of
All-brand
The likes of you—
Mafias— spread
Throughout the land.
While the blood
Of the innocent is
Fresh on your hand,
You dream how
For reinstating
The despotic regime
Another chance
You could stand?

“Why mentally sick
The likes of you—
Colonial legacy mongers,
Vanguards of common wealth
White supremacists –
Disgustingly ingratiate
In a way
Unheard of to date
Ready to receive
And A to Z execute
What they dictate?
And to historic enemies
A hand you lend
A sign moral-wise
You are clinically dead.

“Why the likes of you—
Political thugs—
**** was your
Characteristic feature?
Mr. Director General
To spice the interview
Leave not
Your ****** exploits
That you most remember.
Of course, tell us you can,
While in power
How many
**** victims’ demonstration
In Mekle
You and your friends
Conspired to ban.
Yes **** is a
Worst crime
But registered weres
Many such offences
In your time.

Yours ,sham media
And dishonest lobbyists
Unholy marriage
Provokes the
Innocents’ rage! ///
Crocodile tears
a sudden Bonanza viz ****** abuse among
faux Green Acres within Mayberry RFD
now spells showtime for The Avengers, Batman
and Robin to Get Smart
take to heart (what haint no new bob bing beast),

those perpetrators to forsake their Good Times
yet, who determines what constitutes, and how to differentiate
mere kibitzing from unwanted overtures
though most people would concur when
definitive, tangible, verbal assault occurs,

spoiling future Happy Days, yet numerous incidents (*** hide
from clear cut serious offences indeed)
rather when details appear nebulous, sketchy, vague,
et cetera defy categorization, giving benefit of doubt to
females or males in question claiming harrassment,

especially when minors testify as adults, asper
major gross indignties (such as pedofilia, date,
incestuous, statutory ****, ******,
et cetera committed), that occurred years or decades ex post facto

sans molestation, said time delayed contention
must be taken at face value without fail informing
a jury retroactive justice must be must be handed down
to the accuser blatantly, flagrantly, flaunting illegality,

hence fair sentence accordingly adjudicated
insync decreed capital crime abrogated child welfare,
defiling and permanently affecting emotional well being
of said underage youths, as best one  

to compensate aggrieved subjects must purge
abominable categorical imperative
asper deliberate wanton (I soup pose), tricked, mislead,
forced to participate unwillingly
risking mental, physical and spiritual health of innocent kid

imposing unforgivable, horrible, execrable misdeeds
irrevocably damaging Lassie or laddie,
which indelibly foisted battering, whereby
even Doctor Marcys Welby M.D. unable to mend

condemning sufferer to psychological Mash pit
triggering  Maude lin while Knot's Landing flooded.
Alexis Sep 2015
With my arm gently resting on the window sill
I watched intently as the rain slowly fell
Sitting there, dazed, my ears ringing my silence
I was frozen in time, captured by such violence

The criminal offences happening just outside
I was shocked that I didn't notice in time
She was beaten and broken, laying in a puddle of blood
His hands were bruised, his face angry, all he could do was run

He started to run down the long winding road
Then he stopped in a rush, like something was pulling him back
His son was screaming at the top of his lungs
"Daddy what happened? Mommy was still so young!"
Amanda Wagg Apr 2014
Go ahead just spin the dial,
You might as well get comfortable; we’ll be here for a while.
Alright, you got seven and I got four,
That means it’s your time to take the floor.
But wait a second.
We need to pick our people,
You can pick anyone you like except the girl that looks rather feeble.
I’m always her.
So you chose the runt with just a father?
His mother probably left you guys because you were such a bother.
But all jokes aside, it’s your turn first,
Are you going to university or college?
Depending on which you choose affects your life’s knowledge.

Wait, were you born with a learning defect?
Spin the dial, if you get lower than five your life isn’t worthwhile.
If you get higher than five,
You’ll most definitely thrive!
The world will be yours to own with all of your smarts!
Again, just don’t get less than five...

So we finally get to start! It’s finally begun,
But first, before all of the fun,
You must pick a job.
So you chose to be a steel worker, eh?
Won’t that make your head throb?
I chose a job that’s not as loud, and gets okay expenses.
I’ve decided to undress for money and commit a couple offences.
Don’t worry I’ll be fine.
Come on… stop it. Don’t look at me like that...
It’s better than living on the streets and being spat at.

It’s time to jump in, and get a move on.
Take your seven and get gone.
Congratulations! You landed on birthday!
Now please, keep your excitement at bay!
You had your fun, now let me go!
I go four and I’m starting to feel myself slow.
I paid for an apartment of five thousand.
Your turn.

You get an eight but you have to stop short!
Time to get married, at least you get support!
You get a loving wife and a happy life!
But wait, does she cheat on you?
Spin the dial for the third time.
If you get less than five she stoops lower than slime.
Five or more, she’s happy with you to the very core.

I spin a six and land on “Car rolls away. Pay fifteen thousand if not insured”
It’s not going too well for me but that’s what happens when you aren’t secured.
I’m not too sure that I’ll have enough money for food.
Do you think I could borrow some money? I’m not trying to be rude,
But if you could spare a few bucks I’ll make it up to you.

So how do you like it so far?
Is it what you expected?
At least the ‘Game of Life’ hasn’t gotten you infected.
Just think of the ones like me,
That try to scrounge for lives on the Earth’s back like a flea.
We try to make a living but it can be hard,
All this work in the fire can leave you chard.

Should we keep going or do you want to stop?
I understand if it’s the “games” you want to swap.
If you want we could play “Rejection”.
Or we can talk about all of the things you have done wrong with “Confession”.

None of these “games” are fun, but they must be played.
We all know that the truth in these “games” can cut deep like a blade.
Do you think I like having to deal with all of these problems?
Do you think I love my life and that it’s awesome?
Because it isn’t.
Thought you don’t care about what I must go through.
You probably just care for your life and you,
But I guess that’s okay.
I’ve got some advice and it may sound a little cliché.
Just hear me out.
Make sure it isn’t yourself you doubt.
Be certain in yourself, enjoy life and have fun.
“The Game of Life” doesn’t wait for anyone.
S May 2019
The words whispered to him
Condoned choice
Callings are pre-determined
And thus,
Accidentally straying from fate,
Only the old who wrote the book
On beholding the untold
Could aid the escape of our Living Receiver

Behind his absent eyes
Cerebral devices splice
his dreams and memories
Concocting criminal schemes
And fictitious beliefs
Provoking defiance in face of his deficit;
Obscene offences against an act of
salacious pretence
Donning falsified bones on a
Deep black slab of cotton
ode to donnie darko
Hostile is that world,     where the Haves have more   but the Have not have less          Hostile is that world,       where the rich groan for too much   but too meager the poor groan for    Hostile is that world,     where the bourgeoisies clamors for up       using the proletariat as the stepping stone    Hostile is that world,     where few are born not with silver spoon alone but also with gold but many others with undefined colourless one      Hostile is that world,     where lowliness remains with the lows,   but highness and pride with the high    Hostile is that world,     where I maneuver myself out of that rickety study ground         only to hear, ‘all fingers are not equal’ when it comes to job    Hostile is that world,     where some are regarded as royal blood   but some, the one of slave, though blood is blood    Hostile is that world,     where asegbe remains with the upper class   but every offences is punishable for the lower class    Hostile is that world,     where the people with power are thirsty for evil   but their subjects  dares not question the acts       Hostile is that world,   the world you and I know, yes, we both live with that world only God can fight that world for you and I.

asegbe-  injustice

— The End —