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sara Aug 2018
I'll see what I can make
out of the leftovers I have.
Although, it's never too long
until the milk turns bad,

until a love turns sour
in an online second;
since, an online minute
wastes a real-life hour.

But in a snap-shot moment,
I can find life for weeks
on my stash of sugar truths,
until I forget to eat;

forget to breathe;
'til I don't even need to sleep
because the lovehearts on my photos
sing such soft melodies.

And despite the fact
that often I can't sit at ease,
somehow this perfect madness
always tastes so bittersweet.
a poem about the addictive nature of social media
nosipho khanyile Jul 2018
vivid after sunset,
my thoughts manifest
from energies that surround me.

tangled after sunset,
as I process my technicolours
into somthing society will accept.

but sometimes
there are no words for my thoughts..
From the BBC today,


Excerpt

Why does Taylor Swift write so many one-note melodies?

"It's easy to get distracted by her celebrity, but Taylor Swift is a once-in-a-generation songwriter. From the very beginning, she's displayed a knack for melody and storytelling that most artists never master.

Take, for example, her first US number one, OUR SONG

Written for a high school talent show, it's a fairly typical tale of teenage romance until the final lines: "I grabbed a pen / And an old napkin / And I wrote down our song."

That's smart, self-assured songwriting for someone who wasn't old enough to vote. Notably, the lyrics insert the musician directly into the narrative - something she developed into a tried and tested trope.

But Our Song also establishes another of Taylor's trademarks: The one-note melody.

Excerpt

Repetitive melodies that centre around a single note are part of that appeal. They emphasise her relatability by mimicking the cadence of speech.

"They emphasise her relatability by mimicking the cadence of speech."

"They emphasise her relatability by mimicking the cadence of speech."

"They emphasise her relatability by mimicking the cadence of speech."

Rebuttal

Rhyme sells because the people you are selling too can remember your lyrics. They can relate to your song but if they cannot sing it themselves putting themselves in the 'first-person perspective narrative' they cannot feel as-if they have BECOME the artist and are living that moment as they remember it. Taylor Swift sings about teenage love and angst something EVERYONE ON EARTH understands.

ALL POETRY BEGAN AS RHYME IN SONG.

Cadences are singing statements that confer a discipline and unity.

Song acts as a catharsis. The artist shares their pain in a way that is universally understood. If you want to sell a rock, literally a pebble, you will not sell it if it doesn't look like a rock. If it doesn't do what rocks do. If it is not what people remember a rock to be like. Nor will it sell if it is just like every other rock they have ever seen. It cannot convey an emotion unless it elicits emotion.

One cannot even begin to feel emotional if one cannot remember easily the past and that includes lyrics one has heard that evoked said emotional state.

It is horrifying to see HOW BADLY EVERYONE INSISTS that rhyme be obliterated in exchange for an intellectual or individual perspective NOT SHARED BY THE MAJORITY OF PEOPLE.

If you want to sell and make money you better start thinking about the 99% of people who are not geniuses.

If your sole goal in life is to attract a genius to give you a great job because of how, "smart," they perceive you to be then fine.

You are not an artist.

You are an employee.



"Rhyme sells because the people you are selling too can remember your lyrics."

"Rhyme sells because the people you are selling too can remember your lyrics."

"Rhyme sells because the people you are selling too can remember your lyrics."

Thrice Times Great. ⁻ᴴᵉʳᵐᵉˢ



                                           BECOME
                              EVERYONE ON EARTH
               ALL POETRY BEGAN AS RHYME IN SONG
                      HOW BADLY EVERYONE INSISTS
            NOT SHARED BY THE MAJORITY OF PEOPLE
                                         HOW BAD
                    
                 artist?
or employee?
BBC article conclusion.
"Listen!
I'm neither - not either!

"Not left, not right
Not black, not white

"Not red, not blue
Not the many, nor the few

"No, neither you
nor any other political tribe
will bribe my alliegence.
No one can expect
my adherence or compliant silence!

"I've no tribe but kin
and my kin can come in any skin
and will come and go again
this close to the rim.

"So, no -
I'll not promise to sing
from only one sheet of hymns.
I'll not sign up to this week's
with-the-tide swim.

"You can't assign me
based on a tick-box whim.
I'm no man's synonym.
I'm no easy pseudonym.

"My vote has never been
and never will be
ANYBODY'S easy win."

She stood at the door poised with her pen.
'Okaay... Is that an 'Undecided' then?'
Theres a lot of strong feelings out there.
It goes like this
Tried to
Figure it out

Being silent

Enough
Can be said
Genre: Observational
Theme: Silence has a loud voice
mia Apr 1
her clothes reeked of cheap perfume and daddy issues
polyester black cloth elegant and purposeful in its placing
she lived by the motto “everything is free if you run fast enough”
and figured that something was going to **** her anyway
why not let it be something of her own design?

she asserted this often
taking a drag of her pernicious cigarette
forcing her careful and cultivated opinions on everyone within shouting distance
if only to silence the sadist inside

besides she had already walked in loneliness through
most of a lifetime
full of satin bows and
amusement ahead of her
for she had no one to go with, neither kith nor kin
so it might as have happened now
because everyone always loves you better when you’re dead
mediocrely morbid (thats not a word) and kind of lame. still, fun to write and hopefully fun to read.
jeffrey conyers Sep 2018
So, here we are?
In a world of secrecy and selected memories.

We have a world leader admitting his wickedness for grabbing and paying.
Stupid that you can't offend the word "dumb".

Here we stand, with a judge heading toward the Supreme Court with a past shocking to some.

But a famous comedian convicted of something that happens thirty years ago.
And many pondering why it took so long?
Or why he in jail/prison at all?
Nothing stopping these women from coming forth.

Judge none by this "MeToo" movement cause not all men completely guilty cause in many cases it takes two to party.

Have we heard "****" alleged in all these "sue the man" complaints?

Now of course, what many failing to admit?
In all our youth we have a secret we not admitting too.

Many cheaters that hadn't gotten caught hadn't come out.
Many ladies with kids by married men not coming out.
Some not trying to ruin theirs or his happy house.

Finally, more men have secrets to expose the females.

Then you pay attention to the excuses we hear.
This what makes many not come forth?

Sounds good.
But when under attack many these guys MUST fight back.
Ok, this a matter of opinion.
Jordan Rowan Apr 2016
There's a tired old man singing in his boat
He hates his voice but he still likes to vote
Voter registration put him on hold

The value of a thought has steadily dropped
Respect for free speech has stopped
I gave my opinion and someone called the cops  

Pump your fist in anger and tell the world why
Shout to the sky, look in the camera's eye
And say "I don't need a reason, it's my right"

Think of all the change that you will bring
Telling the artists what to paint and sing
Sanitize, commercialize, let freedom ring
Michael Mar 9
I once upset a group of RSM's when I told them that foot drill was a waste of time. At the time they were bemoaning the introduction of a new rifle, not because of its small caliber, but because of its cumbersome appearance: 'It is not good to drill with' they said. Thus:

An Opinion Expressed

I was once a soldier smart,
Learned to stamp my feet, the art
Of calling out 'The Time', the thrill
Of perfect, synchronising drill.

We did it in the Sunshine glare
On what was called parade ground square.
It's something that I'll always miss.
Those halcyon days, what perfect bliss

To march along in line abreast,
Our arms swung well up to our chest.
Rhythmic, gravelled, crunching feet,
With Pipes and Drums, and pagan beat.

When marking time we'd raise our knees,
Oh what a jape, oh what a wheeze.
We'd point the toe, dig in the heel
Stay with the marker on the wheel.

Saluting dais comes in sight
So make your dressing, by the right.
Neck to collar and chest out
This is what it's all about.

Look at us performing fleas
Shoulder, order, stand at ease.
Perfect creases, looking good
Just like all good soldiers should.
You will not understand this poem unless you have undergone military basic training on the Parade ground. Square bashing it’s called and it’s a complete waste of time.
Marilina Sep 2018
You can't just assume
Things about someone
Just because they act
Just the way they do.
Just because they're different
And are not like you.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Do you think the crowd
Might think better of you?
“death everywhere, not age or ancient, just an infiltrated lack of life”

a puzzling, troubling line in a personal message,
instantly isolated for further review,
needy indeedy for a second medical opinion,
for it’s a description of two,
an actual place and a state of being

a place where death seems more commonplace,
not from agedness or honor,
but from a madness drunk from a special cocktail of
heat, guns and pseudo-rock stars, with beer chasers

imbibed by those who imagine themselves INRL  
in a movie genre of specialized urban cowboys,
subset horror flick,
self-appointed angels

part of a world view
so pervasive that it infiltrates the mental water supply
and modifies the pure children early on

demeaning existence, with a sense, a sendup,
life is unreal, cheap, so taking it-is ok,
justice delivered, for we angels,
are subset,
angels of death

in a country where
seven out of ten believe in angels,
and one in four confident that
the sun revolves around the Earth

look to blame
polluted water
the ever-overheated atmosphere,
bringing typhoon and storm,

I do not know

how be sun and water,
the essences, the originations of all life
today come to the planet days still
clear and warm,
yet can not infiltrate our personal mystery,
respire, re-spark the notion of the spirit,


the simple sanctity of life peculiarly human
call me by my other name
mystified momma
Dlusionl13 Mar 2018
You are saying I am cruel
I bet you don't even care
Yes I am rude and also somewhat mean
Because I am a thunderous sea trying to calm the hurricane of your betrayal going inside me
You think I won't know
You are the one spreading the rumours
Thank you for sharing with the world your opinion of me

I was not like this before
It's you who ridiculed me
Making my already hard life a miserable mess
It's you who forced my mind
To shut the windows of my heart on everyone's face
I lost happiness as joy left me alone
In mending the broken hearts I was late
In joining the shattered pieces of friendships I failed
I want to thank you sincerely for making my life a living hell

You ignored me, isolated me
Burning my already suffered soul like an ignited coal
I could do nothing as hope left me
Turning me into a dark black hole
You knew what I was going through
Yet you left me saying you were tired of my demons
Thank you I never knew promises were meant just for a show

But how can you call me a ****** now
Telling everyone I am not good
Telling me I am isolated for a reason
Who made this worse
Think you should
I regret ever talking to you
I don't know why I shared my deepest darkest secrets only with you
Thank you for making me sorry for trusting you

You had promised you would help me
You said it was okay that I was okay
What happened then?
Why did you abandon me?
You took everyone that were close to me
Spread all the lies you want
No one is left anyway
But thank you for making me realise
That the battles I fight make me stronger than coward people like you

A loner an outcast
My life's never-ending cycle
It's my story my secret
I am the soul of a lonely dead girl
Betrayal hurts because it's something we never expect from the one we trust the most
Andrew Jun 2017
I quivered in the arena
As thousands of people screamed at me
All because I wanted to touch the *****
I guess I play a different football

Those Hartford wailers weren't there
When I was on the ice
Trying to play goalie to the problematic pucks
All I had was my blocker
And all I could do was deflect

Yet those same people
Try to convict me in the tennis court of public opinion
Just because I wanted to make my own racket for a change
Is that really my fault?
Why should I listen to these people
When zero and love have the same meaning?

Am I beholden to those
That wanted me to kneel in the endzone?
They're the people who separated me from myself
Now that I'm running back
They're claiming they were my safety
But there was never a decent referee
Only people that wanted to see me in stripes
But here's the kicker
I'd forgive them all their past interference
If they'd just stop challenging my plays now
Cathyy Mar 2015
You push until I fall down,
and stay down..
And there's strangers giving me the eye, "are you okay now?"
I get up, & think nothing of it
I'm still optimistic

Yeah you scream until I can't ignore,
Your opinions
But the fact is what you think is just..
Your opinion.
Oh everything's changed but nothing's missing
Cause I'm still optimistic!

I'm gonna dance as if the spotlights calling,
Pick a song that would drown my sorrows out,
And for tonight I'm not afraid of falling,
I'm gonna be so confident that I might just love myself..

Yeah you made me insecure and, so nervous
But there's teenagers giving me a wink, "you're a nice person" ;)
Well I'll be dumb to forget this,
Oh kindness from strangers keeps me optimistic


& I still believe in happy - sad poems.
Quite ironic right?
Haha I went through a rough patch with my mum last night but I'm still standing!..

Please check out my last poem and the link to my new video! X

I appreciate the trending and all that, new followers too. Thanks x
Michael Marchese Jul 2018
The all seeing iris imperial city
The swiftest of stylus this side of the ‘sippi
The trippiest spittin’ Promethean hippy
Conspiracy theorist of eeriest verse
The despotic hypnotic black flag bearin’ Hearst
Still immersing myself in a poverty trap
As I grapple with lack of fact check cashing crap
Cryogenically frozen emotion vibes flowin’
From out my funk bunker boombox
Overthrowin’
Your global dominion opinion with ease
Shootin’ breezes with Tirailleurs Senegalese
I’m the kid wicked picket sign paintin’ Tom Sawyer
The ill eagle Taino privilege enjoyer
Still swoopin’ in mean on each **** I make clean
Pick the bones dry of serpentine oil green dreams
Then I bury what’s left of your money machines
With the pharaohs of old’s latest pyramid schemes
Mari Sep 21
This is why I don't
share my opinions-
They won't listen.
They think I'm strange.
They think that they're always right.
They make me feel guilty
even though I didn't do anything wrong.
But still,
I won't stop.
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