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"opinionated" poems
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say? ‘A posteriori’ leads the way For the extra and the ordinary Axiomatic sway, In the gravity of corollary, ‘A priori’ interplay Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation, As the innocence of dissonance delay. Practicing semantic contemplation, In willfully prevenient interpolation, Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray, Forecasts in vague extrapolation Contrasts the millennial contagion Already underway, Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves, To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves, A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves, Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves, Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves, A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves. The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates, An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states, Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates. Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates, Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates, Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates. An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion, Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion, The personable recluse fighting an illusion Breaking down the nuances of every institution. Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility, An opinionated adversary, to the realist without evidence, Theorizing in futility, Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community. Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified, Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified, Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide, Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide, Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified. Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity, As consequential regiments are expounded universally, To unstratify the residents indiscriminately And identify quantum elements spiritualistically, Changing collective behavior individually, Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
0
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
Paradoxical Tendencies
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say? ‘A posteriori’ leads the way For the extra and the ordinary Axiomatic sway, In the gravity of corollary, ‘A priori’ interplay Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation, As the innocence of dissonance delay. Practicing semantic contemplation, In willfully prevenient interpolation, Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray, Forecasts in vague extrapolation Contrasts the millennial contagion Already underway, Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves, To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves, A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves, Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves, Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves, A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves. The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates, An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states, Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates. Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates, Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates, Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates. An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion, Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion, The personable recluse fighting an illusion Breaking down the nuances of every institution. Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility, An opinionated adversary, to the realist without evidence, Theorizing in futility, Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community. Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified, Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified, Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide, Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide, Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified. Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity, As consequential regiments are expounded universally, To unstratify the residents indiscriminately And identify quantum elements spiritualistically, Changing collective behavior individually, Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
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47
Nosey people annoy me Pompous people bore me, Pretentious people irritate me Whilst drunk people irrigate me. Opinionated people grate me, Cheating people forsake me. Sly people irk me Lazy people shirk me. Judgemental people cast me, Bigoted people blast me. Most people avoid me!
0
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
People who annoy me
Living this life is unpredictable until the end; conclusions of the statement are only made from opinionated experiences. At the dawn of birth, there is "choice" and "choices", are for better or worse. There is an expression that goes, "everything is likely fifty-fifty in choosing", consequently believe it to be true. Humanity exemplifies a just way of living, in an understanding that people make poor decisions due to the life they may have been brought up in, however, this life is full of petty mistakes as we know it, some unfortunate souls are born into a dysfunctional or broken family and others of a different situation i.e.(poverty). This could cause unjust mannerisms that occur in the daily lives we so often face. These situations very freely throw more than the average curve ball growing up. Sadly, I ask that we feel sorrow for the majority of individuals with an intention that in reading this; it would justify some clarity in my eyes through yours. With clarity, let there be a world in heartthrob, which could potentially change mankind towards purity. A very specific conclusion led me to this; When a man struggles at his own destiny because of his nature vs. nurture, his good along with his bad leak like a salivating sieve. However, his “good” shows his mentality and lust for life, yet his “bad”, shows his incompetence relating to a moral dignity for the greater good of living (if unfortunate). As this revelation evolves, humanistic mannerisms slowly slip away in a young society and fade from the common core values we once knew from our elders. Surrounded by an ideological critical society, a fear trembles for our youth has no future in a sense for they may be too deaf to hear their state of “consciousness”, to the extent of being blind to see their own “actions”. "The unknown spectator of our world; is the light beyond the dark,"
0
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 12:17 AM UTC
A Troubled Youth
Living this life is unpredictable until the end; conclusions of the statement are only made from opinionated experiences. At the dawn of birth, there is "choice" and "choices", are for better or worse. There is an expression that goes, "everything is likely fifty-fifty in choosing", consequently believe it to be true. Humanity exemplifies a just way of living, in an understanding that people make poor decisions due to the life they may have been brought up in, however, this life is full of petty mistakes as we know it, some unfortunate souls are born into a dysfunctional or broken family and others of a different situation i.e.(poverty). This could cause unjust mannerisms that occur in the daily lives we so often face. These situations very freely throw more than the average curve ball growing up. Sadly, I ask that we feel sorrow for the majority of individuals with an intention that in reading this; it would justify some clarity in my eyes through yours. With clarity, let there be a world in heartthrob, which could potentially change mankind towards purity. A very specific conclusion led me to this; When a man struggles at his own destiny because of his nature vs. nurture, his good along with his bad leak like a salivating sieve. However, his “good” shows his mentality and lust for life, yet his “bad”, shows his incompetence relating to a moral dignity for the greater good of living (if unfortunate). As this revelation evolves, humanistic mannerisms slowly slip away in a young society and fade from the common core values we once knew from our elders. Surrounded by an ideological critical society, a fear trembles for our youth has no future in a sense for they may be too deaf to hear their state of “consciousness”, to the extent of being blind to see their own “actions”. "The unknown spectator of our world; is the light beyond the dark,"
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43
People are opinionated. People are selfish. People are obstinate. People are argumentative. People are lazy. People are destructive. People are creative. People are beautiful. People are determined. People are complex. People are unique. People are amazing.
0
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
People
Look at me Thinking positively Back to who I was But then again not who I was at all I can’t believe I’m sitting here right now Crying tears that aren’t sad I’m here And I’m alive And I’m breathing I am human I’ve made mistakes We all have But life doesn’t stop for you And it doesn’t stop for me The only way is forward Everyday I’m just going to get better Take that life Who’s kicking your *** now? Yep it’s me and I’m ready for you this time I am a beautiful person I’ve made mistakes but that only makes me better I can find me again and I know I will It will take time but its possible I don’t have to wallow anymore I can embrace the sun There will still be downs but I will depend on myself And whoever else I need To get me out of those downs Because although necessary They don’t need to be prolonged I’m going to get better I’m like wine and as I age, I will be all the greater I deserve this I pulled myself out of a great big **** hole And now I’m here Happy again So now I have a plan I will egg myself on I’m going to do this I deserve to be happy With myself and with the people around me I deserve to be healthy I deserve to love my body and myself for who I am I deserve to push myself I deserve to talk loud and animated I deserve to be opinionated I deserve to be liked I deserve to not hate myself or put myself down I deserve to be weird I deserve to have hope I deserve to be free I deserve to live And I deserve to be me So if you cant handle what I deserve And you don’t know that you deserve it to Then that is not my fault And if you cant love or appreciate the person I am Then you deserve to go **** yourself
0
Aug 8, 2010
Aug 8, 2010 at 9:07 PM UTC
We deserve
Look at me Thinking positively Back to who I was But then again not who I was at all I can’t believe I’m sitting here right now Crying tears that aren’t sad I’m here And I’m alive And I’m breathing I am human I’ve made mistakes We all have But life doesn’t stop for you And it doesn’t stop for me The only way is forward Everyday I’m just going to get better Take that life Who’s kicking your *** now? Yep it’s me and I’m ready for you this time I am a beautiful person I’ve made mistakes but that only makes me better I can find me again and I know I will It will take time but its possible I don’t have to wallow anymore I can embrace the sun There will still be downs but I will depend on myself And whoever else I need To get me out of those downs Because although necessary They don’t need to be prolonged I’m going to get better I’m like wine and as I age, I will be all the greater I deserve this I pulled myself out of a great big **** hole And now I’m here Happy again So now I have a plan I will egg myself on I’m going to do this I deserve to be happy With myself and with the people around me I deserve to be healthy I deserve to love my body and myself for who I am I deserve to push myself I deserve to talk loud and animated I deserve to be opinionated I deserve to be liked I deserve to not hate myself or put myself down I deserve to be weird I deserve to have hope I deserve to be free I deserve to live And I deserve to be me So if you cant handle what I deserve And you don’t know that you deserve it to Then that is not my fault And if you cant love or appreciate the person I am Then you deserve to go **** yourself
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58
On that fateful day of Pentecost, power came down from on high. For it originated with God’s presence and His Kingdom, that’s far beyond our sky. The ascension of Christ had been witnessed, with Him clearly rising above the clouds; He was no longer bound by planetary constraint and the opinionated amazement of the crowd. Upon the Earth, a violent breeze blew; it brought forth ‘winds of change’ into the hearts of men. This first outpouring of the Holy Spirit reinforced God’s abundant Love, for us all once again. The power of Jehovah had appeared, as ‘tongues of fire’ above the people’s heads - Thus fulfilling an Old Testament prophesy, as the prophet Joel had previously illustrated. The spiritual battles are fought today inside the imagination of our minds; cleanse your thoughts with The Word and shift your ideals with His holy paradigm. God has promised in The Scriptures that He will never leave us nor forsake us. His comforting Spirit remains along side as we now await - the final return of Christ Jesus. Author Notes: Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2010, All rights reserved.
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Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 6:25 AM UTC
Poem: Remembering Pentecost
I am not a pretty girl. Never have been. I’m a little rough around the edges, I speak too loudly, and I cry when I’m angry. I tried, you know, to be less volatile, less opinionated, less of anything. Whittled myself away until I was nothing but a wisp of a girl, complicit in my own destruction. I lost myself somewhere between the ages of 13 and 15. Somehow, a quiet sadness had seeped into my skin until it was unbearable- an obesity of grief. But here’s the thing: I was not a tear-stained girl romanticizing the idea of pain. I was angry. And cold. And mean. But then I found myself one morning after it had rained. Quietly, without waking my family, I slipped into the cool morning air. I danced in the rain, the grass under my feet and the morning sun warming my face felt new, exciting, and it was all mine. I found myself in sips of earl grey tea, a book on my lap, devouring the words as if they were a life raft on a tumultuous sea. I found myself while watching the sunrise on a foggy beach. It was beautiful the next day, too, and I pulled a rusty bike from the garage, and thought to myself, “I’m going to be alright.” Because I found myself on a run in the pouring rain, the sweat and aching lungs reminding me of my own mortality. I found myself in the quiet, shy smiles of strangers in coffee shops and curious children. I found myself while driving dangerously fast on the highway in the middle of the night. Laughter escaping my mouth as the lights of the city flew by. I have laughed and cried and sang and danced and all of it is because I found myself after hiding for so long. I found myself because I finally had the guts to scream “hello, world. I’m here.” I grabbed life like a face between my palms, and I said “yes, I will love you again.” It’s not a charming face, nor a beautiful smile. But yes, I will love you again.
0
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 6:43 PM UTC
I Am Not A Pretty Girl
I am not a pretty girl. Never have been. I’m a little rough around the edges, I speak too loudly, and I cry when I’m angry. I tried, you know, to be less volatile, less opinionated, less of anything. Whittled myself away until I was nothing but a wisp of a girl, complicit in my own destruction. I lost myself somewhere between the ages of 13 and 15. Somehow, a quiet sadness had seeped into my skin until it was unbearable- an obesity of grief. But here’s the thing: I was not a tear-stained girl romanticizing the idea of pain. I was angry. And cold. And mean. But then I found myself one morning after it had rained. Quietly, without waking my family, I slipped into the cool morning air. I danced in the rain, the grass under my feet and the morning sun warming my face felt new, exciting, and it was all mine. I found myself in sips of earl grey tea, a book on my lap, devouring the words as if they were a life raft on a tumultuous sea. I found myself while watching the sunrise on a foggy beach. It was beautiful the next day, too, and I pulled a rusty bike from the garage, and thought to myself, “I’m going to be alright.” Because I found myself on a run in the pouring rain, the sweat and aching lungs reminding me of my own mortality. I found myself in the quiet, shy smiles of strangers in coffee shops and curious children. I found myself while driving dangerously fast on the highway in the middle of the night. Laughter escaping my mouth as the lights of the city flew by. I have laughed and cried and sang and danced and all of it is because I found myself after hiding for so long. I found myself because I finally had the guts to scream “hello, world. I’m here.” I grabbed life like a face between my palms, and I said “yes, I will love you again.” It’s not a charming face, nor a beautiful smile. But yes, I will love you again.
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3
five years ago, June 2018, I, poet Sir Humbug, wrote:that the job of the artist was to be luminous and dangerous <> *the job of the artist is to be luminous and dangerous luminous to others by being dangerous to themselves when the words are ripped from the chest, atmosphere disbursed by the body’s projectile messes, starburst fireworks, luminous and dangerous, luminating the shared night, laminating your truths, in poems disguised and so the job, our work, begins* <> five years on, somethings have changed, indeed, the dangers of being luminous, clarifying and exposing, the requisite badge of courage, need-be more desperately earned the work is more risky, as the rules of now are none, and the risk of good taste, thoughtful caring, exposing you innards outwardly, so easy to demean and sadly that titillates the iliterati like a fire-working fireflies flashing, their in-concert of ligh attracts the oohs and aahs but too, the restless for glory, opinionated blowhard, whose critical boundaries of ill will are boundless yet, write on, right on to be where courage be the sticking point! your verbs must be pointy, your direction true, adjectives of modest innovation, craft harder, then harder again, for the work must be honest in a manner most delicate now is the time of subtlety - if one must bang pots to be heard, that you to are but a noisemaker, a loser, an addition to those lost in the din quiet passion, thoughtful insight to inside, to the tender parts, will rule the day and the blow smokers will rue the day, as their pretenses chafe and flail wayside, and your words, be like sightings of new lands where you take us utterly beholden, willing explorers to places most wonderfully luminous and dangerous!
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Jul 10, 2023
Jul 10, 2023 at 11:25 PM UTC
5 years later, the artist returns to his first job: being luminous and dangerous
five years ago, June 2018, I, poet Sir Humbug, wrote:that the job of the artist was to be luminous and dangerous <> *the job of the artist is to be luminous and dangerous luminous to others by being dangerous to themselves when the words are ripped from the chest, atmosphere disbursed by the body’s projectile messes, starburst fireworks, luminous and dangerous, luminating the shared night, laminating your truths, in poems disguised and so the job, our work, begins* <> five years on, somethings have changed, indeed, the dangers of being luminous, clarifying and exposing, the requisite badge of courage, need-be more desperately earned the work is more risky, as the rules of now are none, and the risk of good taste, thoughtful caring, exposing you innards outwardly, so easy to demean and sadly that titillates the iliterati like a fire-working fireflies flashing, their in-concert of ligh attracts the oohs and aahs but too, the restless for glory, opinionated blowhard, whose critical boundaries of ill will are boundless yet, write on, right on to be where courage be the sticking point! your verbs must be pointy, your direction true, adjectives of modest innovation, craft harder, then harder again, for the work must be honest in a manner most delicate now is the time of subtlety - if one must bang pots to be heard, that you to are but a noisemaker, a loser, an addition to those lost in the din quiet passion, thoughtful insight to inside, to the tender parts, will rule the day and the blow smokers will rue the day, as their pretenses chafe and flail wayside, and your words, be like sightings of new lands where you take us utterly beholden, willing explorers to places most wonderfully luminous and dangerous!
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74
fake, see through fake insincerity overdose choke it back fake false, feel it false exterior brittle break it down false opinionated, hear you opinionated voice resonating spit it out opinionated self, runs through you self always about you change the tune self others, why don't you see others spell out the word others know it won’t you know it
0
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 4:19 PM UTC
Fake
Have we met? Maybe yes, maybe no But in your head There must be an image of me. Either real, sketchy, vague or an imagination To some a rare gem To others is a beautiful devil And to you... maybe just a facebook friend. Maybe it’s the smiling girl In my profile picture, Who got your attention... Or maybe it was that awkward update That got you thinking. Or maybe it’s the color of her eyes, Or is it the long slender legs In that party dress as she walks across the street? Mhhh... Just maybe You must be wondering Why am writing all this I would love to answer you But I really don’t know What my last line will be like. So, will keep writing... Do you ever wonder why this girl isn’t constant? Today she is in love Tomorrow her man is a pain on her neck, One minute she is your friend The other minute you are a stranger I think i know why... She is like you, she is human! She may not live long enough To defend all her flaws Or brag about her perfections But I can tell you a few things about her... Some she isn’t proud of But others she wouldn’t change Just to please a crowd She has a beautiful heart To complement her warm smile But she has a temper too Which beats that of a betrayed woman She is opinionated But still a good listener. But an insensitive word... Hurts her like a sharp sword. So, if you haven’t met her, Now you know something about her Do I need write more? Oh yes, tomorrow i will write, and the day after Maybe about you, or about my shoe or the trees Everyday I will write. C@P2013   September 4, 2013 at 8:53pm
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 11:56 AM UTC
THINKING ALOUD... by Purity Kim
Have we met? Maybe yes, maybe no But in your head There must be an image of me. Either real, sketchy, vague or an imagination To some a rare gem To others is a beautiful devil And to you... maybe just a facebook friend. Maybe it’s the smiling girl In my profile picture, Who got your attention... Or maybe it was that awkward update That got you thinking. Or maybe it’s the color of her eyes, Or is it the long slender legs In that party dress as she walks across the street? Mhhh... Just maybe You must be wondering Why am writing all this I would love to answer you But I really don’t know What my last line will be like. So, will keep writing... Do you ever wonder why this girl isn’t constant? Today she is in love Tomorrow her man is a pain on her neck, One minute she is your friend The other minute you are a stranger I think i know why... She is like you, she is human! She may not live long enough To defend all her flaws Or brag about her perfections But I can tell you a few things about her... Some she isn’t proud of But others she wouldn’t change Just to please a crowd She has a beautiful heart To complement her warm smile But she has a temper too Which beats that of a betrayed woman She is opinionated But still a good listener. But an insensitive word... Hurts her like a sharp sword. So, if you haven’t met her, Now you know something about her Do I need write more? Oh yes, tomorrow i will write, and the day after Maybe about you, or about my shoe or the trees Everyday I will write. C@P2013   September 4, 2013 at 8:53pm
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53
We are imperfect products placed in the midst of an imperfect society, a vicious cycle of perseverance and failure: constructed, broken, fixed, and fixed again. Airbrushed and painted to perfection: pale skin flushed cheeks slim legs and a smooth mindset. Opinionated only on the matter of superficial products – glamorizing and embellishing. Deteriorating enamel – cracks in a varnished frame. A scratched surface, damaged to the core, polished and glazed over. Skin made paler, cheeks more flushed, skin and bones, and a mind wiped clean. Unachievable expectations and inevitable failure are enough to b r e a k even the toughest material d o w n.
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
Supine Woman
How to fit it? Be fake. Put on a pretense. Like those anchor peoples on the newscast. Hold your opinions. They don't like opinionated folks. And if they are they called personal commentaries. How to fit in? Put on that smile. In life we all are actors. It's a trait of our character. Unless we get selected to heaven. Then that's another matter. We required to be real because the love of God is there. How to fit in? Embrace the concept of your surroundings. Just sit back and take it all in. Like a shy person you'll be able to describe everything. From those that fake to the backstabbers. Now, you can be a rogue. Just realize renegades doesn't last in the fakeness for long. But that's how you fit in? You just need to ask yourself? Is this your quest?
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Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 9:57 AM UTC
How To Fit It?
The first thought in my head At the sight of the two together Was, 'they don't match, but they fit,' Like the beginning of Fall meeting the end of Summer. Bright and outspoken Warm summer days Beside the quiet thoughtfulness Of Autumn's leisurely change. It's beautiful and intriguing It's not meant for paper alone So I'll shout it from the highest mountains And write it in the most-heard songs. Summer's heat speaks of joy Though the nights talk of pain And through the smiles and laughter Is evidence of life's strain. Autumn is quiet but opinionated And riddled with hurricanes But the light of Summer Will never let Autumn fall again. Summer writes of beautiful chaos Autumn writes of simple existence They don't match, but they fit I'm amazed every time I see them. See, the first thought in my head At the sight of the two together Was, 'they don't match, but they fit," Like the beginning of Fall meeting the end of Summer.
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May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 7:27 PM UTC
The End of Summer Meets the Beginning of Fall
Rancor, Swashbuckling with a sawtooth grin and sacrilegious shouts, selcouth with an unsound mind, the commonness of uniqueness, the commonness of opinionated onions cutting their teeth on life and crying, again, and ready to saw off the limbs of the opposition out of revenge! Rancor, relax, you're not a Twitter matador, I wish you were because I’d love to watch the show. We cuddle with exotic nylon fibers and squeal about our weight and status and how someone insulted us and how terrible it is to be alive while sipping on easily accessibly high fructose corn syrup! Life has never been this sweet, but I guess we’re getting sick of honey. I complain about the complaints, I am the anti-complaining complaint club president. I am a writer, an iPhone thumb tapper. Hear me These mental gymnastics will somersault and summerset you right, child, Don’t listen to Rancor, That man’ll grab your gaze and stir your attention into a cocktail while winking at you from behind the bar he’ll leave your brain a little woozy from a life that used to be sweet until you left it out in the sun a few years too long, I wonder if some of the dead watch us from the corners of our bedroom or the trees along the freeway, waiting for greatness to unfurl. I’ll bet they do and I’ll bet you’re a glitch, I’ll bet a little piece of another galaxy hit you in the head and made your finger twitch. How many hot car hours have been spent in a parking lot, the skin dries, the phone dies, the spirit once lifted towards the outlines of the mountain peak now seeks memes, transcendent in their own right.
0
May 12, 2022
May 12, 2022 at 1:54 AM UTC
Rancor!
Rancor, Swashbuckling with a sawtooth grin and sacrilegious shouts, selcouth with an unsound mind, the commonness of uniqueness, the commonness of opinionated onions cutting their teeth on life and crying, again, and ready to saw off the limbs of the opposition out of revenge! Rancor, relax, you're not a Twitter matador, I wish you were because I’d love to watch the show. We cuddle with exotic nylon fibers and squeal about our weight and status and how someone insulted us and how terrible it is to be alive while sipping on easily accessibly high fructose corn syrup! Life has never been this sweet, but I guess we’re getting sick of honey. I complain about the complaints, I am the anti-complaining complaint club president. I am a writer, an iPhone thumb tapper. Hear me These mental gymnastics will somersault and summerset you right, child, Don’t listen to Rancor, That man’ll grab your gaze and stir your attention into a cocktail while winking at you from behind the bar he’ll leave your brain a little woozy from a life that used to be sweet until you left it out in the sun a few years too long, I wonder if some of the dead watch us from the corners of our bedroom or the trees along the freeway, waiting for greatness to unfurl. I’ll bet they do and I’ll bet you’re a glitch, I’ll bet a little piece of another galaxy hit you in the head and made your finger twitch. How many hot car hours have been spent in a parking lot, the skin dries, the phone dies, the spirit once lifted towards the outlines of the mountain peak now seeks memes, transcendent in their own right.
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16
One evening I was walking home, nice dress and heels stomping pavement of the moonlit streets in my home city. I've got something you'd love to grab onto, babe. Catcall. It's not a compliment. It's demeaning. He says ***** but all I seem to hear is strong. daring. opinionated. outspoken. Because that's what he's saying when I stand up for myself. when I act outside the roles of a "good" woman. What he hope, with a five letter word, is that I'll shut up, sit down, be seen and not heard. because that's what being a woman is: suppressed. So, thank you sir, because all you've really done is given me a reason to fight harder a purpose to speak louder and a way to stand taller. "I've got something you'd love to grab onto, babe." "What a shame... I forgot my tweezers."
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Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 3:26 PM UTC
Bee I Tea Sea H
I’m hated by the world because I won’t sell my soul. I’m frowned on by society cuz I’m not very old. My teachers all look down on me, but I do what I’m told. Because I am a metalhead, I’m always treated cold. So what if I’m opinionated? I’m sure that you are too. There’s things we won’t agree on, that much I know is true. But why are you so hard on me? Cuz I’m not the same as you? That’s why I have true happiness, I am not fazed by you. (Might add to this later.)
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Jul 26, 2011
Jul 26, 2011 at 6:48 PM UTC
Judgement
“You must taste your words before you speak” She said, with the sweetest smile Always consider the feelings of those around you Let them rest on your tongue awhile Do not be so quick to claim your bitter offenses When others behave annoyingly The truth is, you may be being too sensitive She said, looking straight at me There are some who are forceful and opinionated With powerfully strong personalities Do not ever let them mistreat you, protect yourself Using your wisdom of tact, gracefully Some will walk the line between being assertive And overstepping their bounds If you will deal with them using your softest nature The rewards you reap are better, I’ve found *For Linda
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Aug 11, 2010
Aug 11, 2010 at 6:05 PM UTC
Taste Your Words
no one believed in ghosts until we realized everyones transparent no one holds on tighter than when they realize they have to let go but the terrifying part is that im not sure if ive ever been held my hands are made of smoke my heart is caged vapor im reaching for so many people but im a phantom made of lies & half truths how can i be honest with you when i could never admit to myself that im a ghost im a real boy i chant to myself as my strings get pulled a marionette made of fog the realest ill ever be is when im spouting the opinions of others out of my incorporeal mouth tying together borrowed words with my ethereal tongue as if i have a thought process of my own whats it feel like to be a ghost? id say like hell but ghosts dont feel much anyway were all living on borrowed feelings donated sympathy & hand-me-down ignorance an army of ghosts that cant even defend themselves we bash each other with words that are almost as hollow as our chests no one knows anything about themselves but everyone knows everything about everyone else we see through each other but we cant see ourselves we try to reflect one another but the vapor is always shifting its maddening being so shapeless yet so defined i want a body of my own i want a place i can call home i want to not be shamed for my opinion i want to respect others fully ghosts are meant to terrify & let me be honest when i say ive never seen anything as ghostly as this generation of opinionated plagiarists [holyoak]
0
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 9:16 PM UTC
its okay to lose a limb when they get too heavy
no one believed in ghosts until we realized everyones transparent no one holds on tighter than when they realize they have to let go but the terrifying part is that im not sure if ive ever been held my hands are made of smoke my heart is caged vapor im reaching for so many people but im a phantom made of lies & half truths how can i be honest with you when i could never admit to myself that im a ghost im a real boy i chant to myself as my strings get pulled a marionette made of fog the realest ill ever be is when im spouting the opinions of others out of my incorporeal mouth tying together borrowed words with my ethereal tongue as if i have a thought process of my own whats it feel like to be a ghost? id say like hell but ghosts dont feel much anyway were all living on borrowed feelings donated sympathy & hand-me-down ignorance an army of ghosts that cant even defend themselves we bash each other with words that are almost as hollow as our chests no one knows anything about themselves but everyone knows everything about everyone else we see through each other but we cant see ourselves we try to reflect one another but the vapor is always shifting its maddening being so shapeless yet so defined i want a body of my own i want a place i can call home i want to not be shamed for my opinion i want to respect others fully ghosts are meant to terrify & let me be honest when i say ive never seen anything as ghostly as this generation of opinionated plagiarists [holyoak]
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59
I sit here in the dead of night, In these four walls, I haunt myself. There's hours yet 'til I'll see light, And I am feeling...not so well. The day was cold, with warm embrace And I was feeling so alive. The touch of sunlight on my face, And joy, unbidden, in my stride. But reality, the heartless ***** Has ways of jerking on the heart. Her nimble fingers squeeze and clench - So fragile things will fall apart. And so it was that I returned To what I know I can't escape. Something I could not help but learn, And once I had, it would remain. That I am independent, see, And spirited beyond control. I know there's things I cannot be, For I have no submissive soul. It would, perhaps, do me some good To better watch the things I say. I speak things that I never should, And I regret them, day by day. Yes, I have tried to change myself, To coax out in me what is meek, But every time, I'm lost in hell, For such exertion makes me weak. I struggle every day with this, For who I am, shall always be. Sometimes I cannot help but wish Spirit was not so strong in me. Perhaps it is not understood, That I'm not mean in any way. "My heart," I cry out, "it is good!" And still people will turn away. Yes, I confess, I do compare Myself to those I could be like. Demure and quiet, gentle flair - I feel that I am not quite right. I've been the same way all my life, Opinionated, loud, and strong. It's only been in recent nights That I have felt...there's something wrong. Why can't I reign it in, I think? Is it so hard to settle down? My heart constricts, my stomach sinks At just that thought which I have found. I know that I would not survive If I would change in any way. My boisterous spirit gives me life, It's how I handle every day. So why, then, must it be so hard To get through life the way I am? I'm only playing with the cards Dealt from an unforgiving hand. But it is every day I feel That we do not walk side-by-side. It's almost like I am not real, But rather, wind, just floating by. The sun is setting on the year, And now, reflecting, I confess That for the future, I've no fear (Though I know it will hurt no less). I'll wake tomorrow, one more day On which the curtains will be drawn And as the daylight fades away, I'll hope that so, too, will my flaws. I pray the new year brings me peace, And ends the struggle I endure. Not every challenge yet will cease, But life gets better, I am sure.
0
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 2:23 AM UTC
Struggle
I sit here in the dead of night, In these four walls, I haunt myself. There's hours yet 'til I'll see light, And I am feeling...not so well. The day was cold, with warm embrace And I was feeling so alive. The touch of sunlight on my face, And joy, unbidden, in my stride. But reality, the heartless ***** Has ways of jerking on the heart. Her nimble fingers squeeze and clench - So fragile things will fall apart. And so it was that I returned To what I know I can't escape. Something I could not help but learn, And once I had, it would remain. That I am independent, see, And spirited beyond control. I know there's things I cannot be, For I have no submissive soul. It would, perhaps, do me some good To better watch the things I say. I speak things that I never should, And I regret them, day by day. Yes, I have tried to change myself, To coax out in me what is meek, But every time, I'm lost in hell, For such exertion makes me weak. I struggle every day with this, For who I am, shall always be. Sometimes I cannot help but wish Spirit was not so strong in me. Perhaps it is not understood, That I'm not mean in any way. "My heart," I cry out, "it is good!" And still people will turn away. Yes, I confess, I do compare Myself to those I could be like. Demure and quiet, gentle flair - I feel that I am not quite right. I've been the same way all my life, Opinionated, loud, and strong. It's only been in recent nights That I have felt...there's something wrong. Why can't I reign it in, I think? Is it so hard to settle down? My heart constricts, my stomach sinks At just that thought which I have found. I know that I would not survive If I would change in any way. My boisterous spirit gives me life, It's how I handle every day. So why, then, must it be so hard To get through life the way I am? I'm only playing with the cards Dealt from an unforgiving hand. But it is every day I feel That we do not walk side-by-side. It's almost like I am not real, But rather, wind, just floating by. The sun is setting on the year, And now, reflecting, I confess That for the future, I've no fear (Though I know it will hurt no less). I'll wake tomorrow, one more day On which the curtains will be drawn And as the daylight fades away, I'll hope that so, too, will my flaws. I pray the new year brings me peace, And ends the struggle I endure. Not every challenge yet will cease, But life gets better, I am sure.
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72
If you were to venture across the forceful shelf of societal direction, would you succumb to the currents of the majority? Right now, I need to take a step back into fresh perspective as I give consideration to my deceptive impulses. A New York cheesecake is surely seductive in her decadent and caloric beckoning. However, English sausages are not dissimilar, my opinionated guide of presumed health and well-being. So, take a hike over endless moors of serial-killer familiarity, because I offer myself upon the altar of elocution.
0
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 11:39 PM UTC
An Oratory Delicatessen
Life: A Carnival In so many ways we are a human freak show, just a breathing carnival attraction. So get the **** off your high horse, look around be mesmerized, hypnotized and wonderized by a world of awe. Let’s get real, move a few strands of DNA from here to there, drop some chromosomes at the deli to re-arrange their eating patterns and we would see that those mindless amoebas down the street is talking our language. Of all the billions of species populating this planet, we humans are the most ignorant, opinionated, **** for brains fools. We puff out our stupidity on a regular basis, books, movies, music, TV and social media 24/7/365 there is no end to the racist, slime eating, motherfukers brought out in grand displays as “experts” in a single hour of opinion disguised as “news” on Fox, or CNN, NBC, ABC or CBS a menagerie of fools. The world is a marvelous place, alive with diversity, which we should embrace. All of us, humans wide, emerged from Africa, humanities origins 10's of thousands of years ago. We humans are a carnival, a side tent freak show, all diverse and magnificent. And to all those idiot religious fanatics, USA, USA ignoramuses, de-evolve your brains, slither back under your rock, go back to your ancient, long gone humanoid origins, become like you are, extinct. Aztec Warrior/redzone 8.28.16 Note: yes it’s a rant after watching an hour of Fox CNN and MSNBC news... I must go throw up now. Apologies to Natalie Merchant whose song “Carnival” is embedded below, her song is a much more kinder celebration of our diversity.. I on the other hand cannot stay calm in the face of fascist fanatics pretending to speak for human beings.
0
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 10:16 AM UTC
Life: A Carnival
Life: A Carnival In so many ways we are a human freak show, just a breathing carnival attraction. So get the **** off your high horse, look around be mesmerized, hypnotized and wonderized by a world of awe. Let’s get real, move a few strands of DNA from here to there, drop some chromosomes at the deli to re-arrange their eating patterns and we would see that those mindless amoebas down the street is talking our language. Of all the billions of species populating this planet, we humans are the most ignorant, opinionated, **** for brains fools. We puff out our stupidity on a regular basis, books, movies, music, TV and social media 24/7/365 there is no end to the racist, slime eating, motherfukers brought out in grand displays as “experts” in a single hour of opinion disguised as “news” on Fox, or CNN, NBC, ABC or CBS a menagerie of fools. The world is a marvelous place, alive with diversity, which we should embrace. All of us, humans wide, emerged from Africa, humanities origins 10's of thousands of years ago. We humans are a carnival, a side tent freak show, all diverse and magnificent. And to all those idiot religious fanatics, USA, USA ignoramuses, de-evolve your brains, slither back under your rock, go back to your ancient, long gone humanoid origins, become like you are, extinct. Aztec Warrior/redzone 8.28.16 Note: yes it’s a rant after watching an hour of Fox CNN and MSNBC news... I must go throw up now. Apologies to Natalie Merchant whose song “Carnival” is embedded below, her song is a much more kinder celebration of our diversity.. I on the other hand cannot stay calm in the face of fascist fanatics pretending to speak for human beings.
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65
If I promenade about as if I do not have any relevance to every other human, If I believe I am of my own species, If I only ever pay attention to the expansion of my self-importance, If I have no interest in the well-being of anything other than my inconsiderate self, If I am selfish, ignorant and conceited, If I am opinionated, vanity obsessed and shallow, If the only progression I make daily is the inflation of my ego.. Will I too, be admired by society?
0
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
Arrogance
Fact is glorified opinion Science is glorified perception I sound like a conspiracy theorist But I don’t think I've gone mad Ask yourself these questions and you’ll back yourself into a corner because you can’t find an answer Prove that you know anything beyond your perception Preach to me your morality Your opinionated justice Tell me what you based your current knowledge on Your reality is a fallacy Your society gives you a false sense of security Truth is a fallacy to protect your fragile reality Prove that 1+1=2 when its just a man made system It was created by a human filled with flaws Government is made by these men This is why ****** rebellion will never end No system is perfect so how can we use it to govern others How can we inflict our unfounded beliefs? Good intentions forced on others Is no different than an evil act You can’t cure ignorance by yourself So flee to the land of your fabled ideology The sky is the limit if you step out of the box So you don’t go crazy over not knowing everything Every science article you read, every fact that you see, everything you've seen on TV These are a part of your fragile realty Its all you've ever known Don’t make me laugh with the notion that you can be unbiased You are a human with emotions after all For you are a frog in a pond that knows not of the ocean So I ask again please tell me how you know anything past your own ethnocentrism
0
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 12:05 PM UTC
There no such thing as truth
I **** men who don't like me in hopes that they will. I give them small kisses and smile when I stare. I know all the moves. How to bite my lip Show slight cleavage Glance at them occasionally Don't break eye contact Touch my thigh Widen my eyes then I open my mouth And they think: *Man, she's ******* crazy* Just crazy enough to **** Too crazy to stay So they run And the cycle continues Someday someone won't be afraid of my loud, opinionated mouth and my wide hips
0
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
wide hips
I have never quite understood it, But every now and then, A smile that is very rare appears on your face. I doubt you even realize it. It creeps out when you sing in the car. When you are proud. When you hold a volleyball in your fingertips. When you look at the mountains. And I wish there was a way for me to capture that. You don't know the pride I have in you, My little sister, When you grin like the world Does not control your mouth. I want you to know you can smile. You have every right. Let your eyes be the sunshine, Let your lips paint the canvas In shades of yellow, pink, and orange. Stretch your arms out wide so you can Welcome each soul with kindness, Because I know that's who you are. I know this because I am her, too, The girl with stars in her eyes And her heart on her sleeve. And let me tell you, There is not a better place to wear it, Because the pain that comes with it Is so worth the beauty that follows. Because the people that break your heart Will always be followed by the ones That have been picking up the pieces So they could return them to you. All of me wishes you knew your inner beauty. Of course you are gorgeous outside, as well, But dig deep, Shovel down in to your soul until you see the gem. And I cannot believe you do not already, Because you shine so brightly That even the moon pales in comparison. Karena, you are compassionate. You feel things that people overpass; You are the definition of a "friend." Forgive, forgive, forgive... Because you do not have time to hate. Holding grudges is not your style; And although I do not always think it's wise, I admire you very much for that. You see the good in others. Thank you For seeing the good in me. Remember, forever and always, That I love you. I'm always your biggest fan. We've been through it all together, And that will never change. Don't lose the spark in your eyes, Or the warmth in your heart. Keep being spunky and opinionated. You are a fire, a ball of life, And isn't it wonderful That while some merely Exist, You are truly Alive. And please-- Never Stop Smiling.
0
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 3:00 PM UTC
My Sister's Smile
I have never quite understood it, But every now and then, A smile that is very rare appears on your face. I doubt you even realize it. It creeps out when you sing in the car. When you are proud. When you hold a volleyball in your fingertips. When you look at the mountains. And I wish there was a way for me to capture that. You don't know the pride I have in you, My little sister, When you grin like the world Does not control your mouth. I want you to know you can smile. You have every right. Let your eyes be the sunshine, Let your lips paint the canvas In shades of yellow, pink, and orange. Stretch your arms out wide so you can Welcome each soul with kindness, Because I know that's who you are. I know this because I am her, too, The girl with stars in her eyes And her heart on her sleeve. And let me tell you, There is not a better place to wear it, Because the pain that comes with it Is so worth the beauty that follows. Because the people that break your heart Will always be followed by the ones That have been picking up the pieces So they could return them to you. All of me wishes you knew your inner beauty. Of course you are gorgeous outside, as well, But dig deep, Shovel down in to your soul until you see the gem. And I cannot believe you do not already, Because you shine so brightly That even the moon pales in comparison. Karena, you are compassionate. You feel things that people overpass; You are the definition of a "friend." Forgive, forgive, forgive... Because you do not have time to hate. Holding grudges is not your style; And although I do not always think it's wise, I admire you very much for that. You see the good in others. Thank you For seeing the good in me. Remember, forever and always, That I love you. I'm always your biggest fan. We've been through it all together, And that will never change. Don't lose the spark in your eyes, Or the warmth in your heart. Keep being spunky and opinionated. You are a fire, a ball of life, And isn't it wonderful That while some merely Exist, You are truly Alive. And please-- Never Stop Smiling.
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