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Yenson Jul 2019
homage from ground level
who spend ions looking the rarefied oak
and begging attention in dire desperation
truths not theirs to own, dogs hears only master's voice
a million no's is two million yes's to dogs of handlers hidden
till the fun resounds from aimless plays and senseless gates locked
clowns are made to act their memberships in emperors coat drama
opposing oppositions of oppositions unknown by such opposing
a drama for fools created by fools in fantasists scripted muggings
to train watchful sub human dobermans in grand voyeuristic plays
they toil to infest superior mind thinking they share same thoughts
unable to see the deranged diets fed to the lowly dogs mad keepers
laughter from hill seeing the senile programs of the sad curb-crawlers
spineless  ferals without strength and resilience the inadequate mobs
opposing oppositions of oppositions unknown by such opposing
the clowns who sees Yes's for No's and No's for Yes's in delusions
the sad movement of the cons of the politics of fear and divisions
opposing oppositions of oppositions unknown by such opposing
Yenson Aug 2018
Welcome to the Alpha cowards who are faceless and their cowardly gangs,
The raggle taggles scums who live in sewers and gutters and crawl out to spew their putrid innards or cast mud as they are wont to do. The stinking Bullies of the West, the fascists and Racists of Modern Politics, Liars and shysters, deluded sickos.  

Hail the Red Loony - Hail the Uber chavs of Chavs-ville, the deluded warriors of Wigan, the ******* pigs of Animal Farm,  the Baldrick's of Blighty, the Prophets and Saviors of the poor Oppressed malcontents, the Asinine Numpty Controller of Heraldry, the bungling vacuous Stalinist thugs, the famed carriers of the famed and ridiculous owners micro-penises and laughable quick shot minute men lovers, with  their Fem-fresh free zone females.

Hail the Bogus Thieving Red Devils and the Psychos Uber Slanderers and Shitegangs of the Western Socialist muppets, to name a few of their inglorious tags. Hail the Shameless Red flag wavers. who sexually harass females members and are only there for what they can get while fooling all they are comrades and for the people.

Now that the Jews have exposed you and shown all that you're the imbecilic Haters of successful and hardworking people, the maggots that you are, you can concentrate more on playing with the mind of that Black Prince, that is putting you and your poor brainwashed and ******* gabble of followers, to shame.

How the mindless can play mind games is of course, an anomaly best understood by the Mindless themselves, but then since when do psychotic, deluded, hallucinating, proven in-adequate and sick fantasists, those education- avoiding, opportunities-shy ( why should we make use of all the opportunities offered to us, why should we try and earn an honest living and make something of ourselves, No! we are the socialist 'working class',

We have the Welfare system created specially for us, we don't pick strawberries or work on the farm like some poor Poles, we don't serve in Hotels and say 'sir' to some ****** Johnny Foreigner, lets leave that to the Jews, Asians, Eastern Europeans and Africans ), we are free hedonistic, drunken louts and yobs and we don't care.

We hate those that believe in hard work and striving to be successful, we do not like clean, honest law-abiding people, we will bring them down to our level, we are all equal, that's democracy. We will campaign against good people and try and drive them mad, we will slander them and give them grief, We Never let the facts and truths get in the way of an asinine campaign against decent people with aspirations and sensibilities. We are mindless and irrationality, envy, jealousy, pettiness and irrational hatred is our game, I dare profess to all you Blue Conservatives.  

So go luxuriate in your mediocrity of mind, body and soul, go do your hating, that's what Haters do, get on with your lies, smears and slander, what else do you have, after all your whole lives are one big facade and you are masters of superficiality, even your mothers wouldn't tell you all the truth to your faces. You are shameless cowards, internationally recognized bullies and pointless anachronisms  in this days and age.    

Why not save your fears, energy, expenses and time before slithering around performing your anodyne 'street theater' and posting various fake profiles, or presenting the fowl putrid nonsensical deluded fantasies,  thinking compound 24 carats fools like you and your ***-wipes, can shape opinions or influence sane minds.  However I do appreciate this fact will be too much to comprehend by deluded psychos and brain washed simpletons, so please continue amusing yourselves and displaying your abject and pitiful ignorance, your vacuous minds needs useless stimulation.

Hail the  Hail the Reds Devils hahaha.....hahaha.....hahahaha...oh...oh....hahaha...Hail the Classic ***** of The Red Devils...hahaha hahaha hahaha. Hail the simplistic sense of power of anodyne oppositions.
Ira Sosa Aug 2018
The day is bright and blue,
While the night hails the universe's true view.

The sun, hailed as the giver of all life and the first true fire,
As the moon is considered all of death's lyres.

While life is given power by the sun,
The moon is the cloak for all of its assassins.

As the sun is fiery and passionate,
Our moon is quiet and loves maleficence.

As the day gives only the bare truth,
The night covers all that who are to sleuth

Sun and moon,
God and Satan,
Earth and sky,
Truth and jive,
Life and death,
Fire and water,
Dusk and dawn
Diverting Martyrs

Oppositions of our humainty,
Sun and moon,
Balance our reality...
Stu Harley Jun 2015
oh what
byzantine eyes
of Satan
the serpent
who delight
in falsehoods
pontifications and
oppositions
to the
will of God
zebra Sep 2018
the cosmos
a web of plantary oppositions squares and triangulations
curses and blessings
demons, humans and gods
friends and enemies
each a constituent
a revolving carousel of heavens and hells
the macro, an umbrella of spilling stars
like shattered glass in flames
outer and inner stone & gas planets
wandering infinitely
like strays
others in tight gravitational ellipses and eclipses

the elements of fire air earth and water
from the most subtle formless
to rocks flames oceans and the air we breathe

disjuncture
in a  
a mix-meister
a gruesome churning mouth swallowing our delicate membranes

and we wonder
why
we are in pain
why
we are nourished by flesh
as we ourselves are consumed
filled with blood and nothing
and deadened by marking time
all hungry shells

and why
we wither to dust
as do suns and moons
and gods themselves
all of us children of monsters
and corpse eaters
born of magnitudes
episodic collisions
and  harrowing creative destructions
the dead living and the living dead
with eyes that flicker only on half a landscape at a time
a holloween
of pyramids and bones

always running from wolves
because we are meant to be eaten

okay my darlings
now
lets try
focused breathing,
and boundless light

lets try
being Hindu
Post-azure, cloud splashed sky,
washes with the suns descent,
breaking into melodies of sunset.
Fracturing into a blush,
the richness of the spectrum
makes itself known.
On a tangent of change,
amorphous clouds bleed
amber glow
and bittersweet combinations
of reds and yellows.
Vermillion streaks through,
and a few cloud folk turn titian,
like sumptuous surreal apricots
rotting in the sky,
that seem to augur
encroaching darkness.
Billows on the horizon
leak crimson,
like spilled wine on table cloth,
and pucker out
like blooms of flaming roses.
Fire refracted
coloured cousins of the sun
are dancing all about.

Here is the anthem
of wild transformation.
Here is cause
for quiet celebration.
Here at this fluent juncture.
Here at the closing of day.

The whole of the ocean below,
is the skies tremendous mirror.
It's reflection is variegated,
into variations a thousandfold.
Multitudinous, and ever differentiated,
distortions of above
ride the crests of waves.
Each apex is a new story.
Each new story,
just as soon as it is told,
comes crashing into trough.
Each finale is the ****** of beginning.
The dynamic roar
of the oceans ever-changing topology
is rife with meaning.

Colossal symphonic wonders,
the primordial song,
releasing upon: the uni-
verse continual,
sending the manifest
to move, with the give and strain
of immaculate design.

Here ensconced
between the safety of light
and the mystery of night.
Here at the oceans edge.

Above, shades of catalina-blue, in conversation
with the outer most cosmic-black
dismiss earlier brighter hues.
Tinged by the infinite nature of space,
the jeweled dome darkens.
Overhead, the first stars appear,
sky transparent to beheld blackness.

Luxuriant, pulling horizon, attracts
violet into it's unfolding theatrics.
Bloodied clouds turn purplish, then black,
a darkening rawness allures,
decaying with vivid beauty,
tragedies of a rouged romance
drug down into shadows play,
searingly alive, extraordinarily actual.

And then, the hush of dusk.
Darkness is felled, like silence.
Scintillating stars
strengthen in the nights
surrounding abyss;
giving radiance definition.

Dynamic Beauty
Lives In Transition,
Oppositions
Compliment.
Nature, nature, dear sleek, bland nature;
Thou art the very love I seek,
The very art when my soil's weak,
The lifeless grass that clearly speaks,

Nature, nature, my feverish, sweet bland pasture;
Look at but the greasy grass around thee,
And take a glimpse of the soul in me,
Console my tears through my poetry,

Nature, nature, the witness of joys and sorrows;
With thou gone, life matters no more,
All shalt be dead like ever before,
Dead before the sight of lonely hours,

Nature, nature, my sweet grand nature;
This idyll, like my undying past love,
More promising than the Unseen above,
A love and a hate, a tear and a smile,
Whose charms made me giggle for a while,

Nature, nature, canst but thou see the poet in me;
Buried deep down in my febrile sanctuary;
A silent place my love shan't ever know;
A delight only to me, and my wordless tomorrow.

Nature, nature, I am dying in my delirium;
Looks like I'm daydreaming again,
That the whole world is but a small poem,
That looms and grows over today's rain.

Nature, nature, but that's the daydreams of a poet;
That the world's skin is covered in soot,
And so is its arrogant roots,
That once severed and soaked my foot.

And so I hate it with all might;
Long for it to fly off my sight;
During the tremblings of the nights;
And the fury of our tight winds.

Oh nature, once my sweet old friend;
I hath lost my conscience again,
And thou, once handed to me a blanket,
Ah, that doth thou remembereth?

Nature, nature, my darling old candle;
Who awoke me with handfuls of sweet kisses;
But hath now died and is not smiling again;
A rival that was ostentatiously a friend.

Nature, nature, my ceremonious old light;
Thou shalt steal me at the end of the night;
There is a shade behind the fruits of yon twilight;
Thou shalt hide there, and astound me with fright.

Nature, nature, words and blandishments down the line;
This diabolical and conscious soul of mine,
I hath been lifted into a turbulent state,
Where all is unfair and against such fate.

Nature, nature, beyond thee I cannot see;
Beyond whose all seems brown and futile;
Despite their tremendous originality;
All is bland to such physical rigidity;

Nature, nature, ah, why all tranquil hath gone;
I travel in agony by myself alone,
I, a poet, in whose heart are scars,
From parting with my love's nuptial stars,

And on whose departure, nothing was to stay genial;
At whose goodbyes I couldst not stand cordial;
Him, whose laughter had been kind pleasantry,
And poetry, whom I'd wanted to wander here with me.

Nature, nature, in t'is whose bloodied sight I set off alone;
By my ears playing a deformed old song;
Into the world my poet's soul shan't ever be married;
To whose souls I'm just a myth, a wicked soul intoxicated;

Nature, nature, to whom I am just a pile of debris;
That be torn by one easy leap,
A breathless snap and clouded mutiny,
And none be left, of me and my poor poems.

Nature, nature, beyond these waning northern gales;
Still there is no more than the pale,
Perhaps our past is like those of untold tales,
Like that of Wayne, a dear from cold Wales.

Nature, nature, but I shall be back;
A ship journey's awaiting me by the red sack,
And I shan't be prone to their hatred,
I shan't be deterred, nor get hurt,

Nature, nature, these storms grow insolent outside;
Mocking my indolent soul and black hair;
Streaming down my warm yellow skin;
Surging up my generous pink spleen;

Nature, nature, and the suns shield me no more;
'Tis the cold and white that matter,
Not even an umbrella for my frost,
All of us here are shattered and lost,

Nature, nature, I am roaming like a foul ghost;
With all the dirt of humanity on my face,
And all their sins I hath vastly borne,
But they are gone, and I screech in cold, alone,

Ah, nature, and now that thou hath deleted me too;
Like a pianist rejected by his own songs,
Which he hath, and hath been doing for long,
With a violin that knows not what true fame looks like;

Nature, nature, it loves only those insincere;
Who are too hard and dark on their own hearts;
With congested hate loathed by calm scripture;
A music that they shan't notably dance.

Nature, nature, and listen to once more;
All is dark and I hath only thee have left,
I am suffered by t'is sleepless haze,
Entranced only by whose sightless grace,

But ah, if thou hath disgraced me too;
If to thee that no inspiration a poet canst give,
I may divorce thee and soon shall leave;
I shalt again embrace my long-lost oppositions;

For I shalt be hurt should thou disgrace me too;
Like a long corpse plainly dismembered,
Like a painting whose colours hath waned,
Like a spirit that hath fainted;

Like a touch of grey, bitter oblivion;
Like an angry pompous heart and vision;
Like a severely wounded wisdom;
Like a battered rainbow in its gloom;

And after dusk I shalt emerge again;
With a vain anger, as cruel as crystals;
Being reborn as an immortal star;
I shalt tear thee and thy hearts apart;

Ah, nature, and with the whole world too fishy and foul;
Where but I seek to find the poet of my soul,
And as all embrace turns to grow cold,
Whilst dawn is the hate of my enemy,

Nature, nature, and with a plain laughter so clear,
Still they speak of me with hate;
Like thou wert once unjust to me,
Unlike the very God I could see,

Nature, nature, once my friend nature;
Thou too loathe me for evermore,
For I must go, and calm my self alone,
Treat my ill by the summer's murdered song.
andrew juma Dec 2015
Hey, i want to speak with honesty,
I dont know what i would do without poetry,

Feel like i won a lottery,
all because of word pottery,

a mind free is all,
expressing secrets from the soul,

With a careful craft of the beat,
music is born from the art,

Therapy in psychiatry,
aesthetic in  phylosophy ,

People  love and fight,
Some just live to hate,

oppositions and dominions,
Opinions and religions,

But poetry and music lives,
lifetimes and lifetimes with love,

and nomatter the weather
it shall always bring humanity together
CharlesC Aug 2013
Real learning we
learn from
a red bicycle..
Movement is
conversation of
oppositions..
Without conversation
differences reign..
We soon find
multiplicity growing
and peace disturbed..
Red reminds us
each difference relates
to other differences..
Relating is unifying
bringing the peace
Red turns Blue...
CharlesC May 2013
In symmetry
and colors
a notable image..
meditative model
Hubble finding
in night sky
light years
from here
and Now..

Science musings:

How created..?

A creator or
creation..?

A centered aging
binary system..?

Polarity energy
says it all..?

The unusual shape?
Sacred geometry
expresses itself..?

A definite torus..
All Reality
and Consciousness
expressed as Torus..?

Boundaries of cones
form an X..?

Creation of symmetry
interconnectedness
recognized..?

Why unusual colors
Red and Blue..?

Left and Right
Male and Female
oppositions prevail..?

As hydrocarbon molecules
colors building blocks
for organic life..?

Center Light transforming
to component colors..?

In a few million years
the Red Rectangle nebula
will probably bloom
into a planetary
nebula..

New birth
Now announced...?
image at
polarityinplay.blogspot.com

for CharlieP
JAM Jul 2015
Some of us just wanna live
Some of them just wanna die

We'll do things they never did
They do things we'd never try

They look for beauty like it's been hid
We look for beauty in the holders eye

Most of them will have some kids
Most of us will stay kids flying kites

I just wanna be
You just want me to never leave

I just wanna plant this seed
You want me cause I'm what you need

- J.A.M
Cunning Linguist Nov 2013
throw some ****** coal in this steam locomotive
fueled by drugs, fame, money, *******, and notierity
all them girls know its me,
and some think its Reid,
but they not in the game
muhfuckas know my name (Charlie Sheen)

all these ****** uppers in my nasal passages
can't handle this
parents goin through my phone and they check my text messages
they like - "riddle me this
all you do is talk about drugs and spittin game on *******
when you gon make us proud son
you sling dope but we aint seen one
penny - and we gettin sick of it
not because your raps are ill
but because you're selfish
clean your room, do your homework, and get a job
or you'll be homeless
suckin **** for crack
and you don't want that
then you won't be able to attack and conquer
Make some change - cause you're drivin me and your father bonkers
and your ****** moniker is Reid Donovan not Charlie Sheen"

Uh...

And i be like...
"don't fret Mom, urrbody love me
i'm a terrorist droppin bombs on these rap songs
and one day
i'ma be rich as ****
all because i'm a genius
ballin, swag my *** out like Josef Stalin
and i dictate, reiterating as I weave my words so great
too late, to stop my hostile take over
i'll show her, how to ****** peddle and be stellar
mean smokin green
well up, runnin these streets
watch me take over the world
cause the name I sign my checks with is Charlie Sheen
I be, conducting
noxious, fallout as I spit
cause my saliva is toxic
white *** *******
but i'm still hood rich

We gon take over the world
while I'm on my Charlie Sheen ****
watch me stand tall
high above all the rest
see me on national TV
believe they'll remember me as the best
stick me with a knife
and watch me bleed liquid gold
nationwide tours, sold out shows
winning - throw my fastball
three strikes - all the oppositions out
wolf gang **** them all

and you know I be on those strikes
cause I aint about them ***** - no
I'm Charlie Sheen *****

I'm gon take over the world
while Mac Miller's getting mad
you're only seventeen kid,
how you write **** like that
Its because
the only present I ever got for christmas
was a big box of swag
just messin take some lessons

man i'm jonesin
8 am, gotta hankerin for a fixin
call the operator cause i'm on a ****** mission
big dave answers my call
and I reach those outer limits,
all he says is press pound and i'll connect you to the mooooon

When girls ask me if I be on that Charlie Sheen ****,
I just tell em no - I AM CHARLIE SHEEN *****
I wrote this when I was 17.
CharlesC Sep 2012
let us consider
declarations of independence
as remedies
for election ills..
democracy has been
deadened
by flows of money
reaching ego ends..
competing parties mirroring
yet exaggerating differences
knowing one and all
precious power is the prize..

independence
allows consciousness to
arise at last..
good then is found
in left and right
shadow enclosing both..
paradox rules oppositions
and detachment soothes
the din of boisterous claims..
new freedom
brings new strength..
money flows
lose direction when
feedback polls confuse..
and democracy then
may deliver promise
once again...
image @ polarityinplay.blogspot.com
hazem al jaber Feb 2017
Rosary dreams...




Picked up my pen...
and started to write...
writing and fighting words...
fighting with words which i pen...
maybe it will express about what inside me...
to express about the rosary dreams which i always live in...
dreams which aspire to reach the glory...

dreamed about it...
tried to work for it...
did all my best to get it as a reality...
and to be some thing...
some thing that can be an honor to me...

start writing...
write the pains which i feel about...
the pains because of those dreams...
the dreams which still not be a real yet...

our pains are because of those dreams...
dreams which we try to live in...
dreams which we saw and never to get it ,never...

but it seems so hard and difficult to be...
because the beauty dreams which we imagine...
never to be alive in our life...

maybe because of the stress which we suffer in...
and because of the oppositions in our souls...

but i will write and to express...
and its my rights to write...
to write about the life which i hope to...
at least i am writing now...
so i am alive...

dreams still dreams...
and never to be more than dreams...


by: hazem al ...
Desire Mar 2019
Our oppositions are subjective, yet
we're subject to our opinions
but differences deepened by
developing diversity is false dominion,
proving one thing to be true:
Neither of us get the final rule.
Human supremacy is a construct,
freeing me to believe in a higher power
outside of me and you...

If neither of us are supreme, then who?

@desire.is.dope
20190308
1712HRS
SUPREME
@desire.is.dope
20190308
1712HRS
Carlo C Gomez Oct 2023
~
the peculiar sound of morning
during the long, boarded-up winter,
resonating through a cistern
set apart by thin waves
of decaying reservoir

a hint of canticle
in the unfounded wind,
impossible to ignore,
a series of collapsing oppositions
like interior and exterior,
self and other, the momentum
conveys the sublimity of being,
immersed in an unfathomable vastness,
of being part of an indivisible whole

a repeated glitch in the system,
our forever changing
constellation of feelings
and backward configurations,
slipping into a stream,
where the water precedes us,
and it will outlast us

we don't so much carry life
as allow ourselves to be carried
along by it, swept up in its current
for a little while

~
Sydney Victoria Feb 2015
O, My Creator, Deliver Me From These Inquisitions,
Emancipate Me From These Wretched Oppositions,
Free Me From The Chains Of My Weary Disposition,
Envelop Me Within The Folds Of Your Holy Apparition

The Sun's Light Dwindled Along The Horizon,
Darkness Bruised The Ledges Of The Sky,
Summer's Vegetation Recoiled And Fossilized,
Within The Dark Soil's Crumbling Underlie


O, Glorious Divine Being, Act On My Requisition,
Extricate My Soul From It's Appalling Malnutrition,
This Tattered Mind Is A Degenerating Composition,
Let My Spine Sprout Wings To Carry Me To Redefinition*

Stars Emerged From The Depths Of The Heavens,
Holes Filtrating The Stale Air Circulating In Slime,
Oozing From A Fatal Virus They Referred To As Time
The Beauty Within The Physical World Will Set You Free. I Find My Salvation Within Nature.

It Doesn't Matter Who Or What You Believe In... As Long As You Feel You Are Connected To A Divinity Outside Of Yourself Which Gives You Hope, Love, And Light. I've Been Struggling With This Lately, But I Need To Realize, This Is Who I Am. So Please Forgive Me, My Creator, For Succumbing To These Painful Inquisitions.

©SydneyVictoria2015
Melody Mann Dec 2022
Living in contrasting hues their duality clashes,
Oppositions transcend logic and bare pains of confusion,
Words take form and pierce the fabric of union,
Timeless ventures into the abyss,
A departure premature.
Anna Lo Dec 2013
So silence awaits once more
and it's quite a scene
as our confusion envelopes the hypocrisy
of the chaste *****
who says once more
'goodnight'.
solemn
genuine
affectionate
crying--
we are celeste
the virtuous maidens
of the night and cursed are we
with the plight of the folly of our ***.
the holy Mary cries for our sins
our sexuality unspoken
our faithless oppositions
our gender--broken
our identities stolen
by objects of the night
a billboard of
a cavernous hole with
satin titillating  sights.
Help us,
we cry,
to the men that are so attractive
that represent our needs
our desires and wants
by their undeniable marble bodies.
Help us,
we cry,
to the men that are so attractive,
to open our doors, to carry our purses,
to make our decisions without any strife.
Help us,
we cry--thrice--
to the men that are so attractive,
to make us feel again, to fill in a cavernous hole,
to give us children that fight.
And for me,
love me, hold me tight, kiss my cold nose in this winter's night,
be attractive, just only attractive,
for you are nothing but
the man I love,
whole with all my heart.
My words are cutting themselves again;
razoring their loosely-sutured syllables,
deep as white-eyed bone.

The suave dipththongs butchered
to the cadence of bloodletting
in hemorrhagic oppositions.

Stapled-closed sentences, smeared with Iodine,
and subcutaneous sentence diagramming
for the retractable scalpel
swiveling along the edge,
of the well serrated cliche.

Once I pressed my wordy flesh
against the wrong side
of a paring knife, while paying no attention
and suddenly,
and without warning
it gave, like an over ripe peach
to the cleaver-
and after that, I was hooked.
Yenson Apr 2019
Should we perchance state
how curious it is
that no one has dared to think
'hold on a mo' my friends
let's see what happens
if we do nothing'

for they were told to press triggers
which they all readily did
that makes the oppositions buttons
which they all gladly began pressing
see its working their Master declared
they all readily agreed,
it was indeed working as nothing was
happening

what test was done to link the buttons
to nothing happening
how do we know we were responsible
to stopping anything happening by
these triggers
what's the measure of success here
was there a time something happened
when we did not trigger?

Should we perchance state
how curious it is
that no one has dared to think
'hold on a mo' my friends
let's see what happens
if we do nothing'

Far from me to say
methinks some people have been fooled
some may even say, blinded and hoodwinked
made up fake news triggers are not effective
said computing triggers are diversions to truth
for it gives answers to questions never asked
but yet none has worked this out
none has seen the ruse

why not test things
and say, no triggering any buttons
let just sit and watch and see what happens
but none dared think this or says so
because this is the emperor's computer
and we see what we see
and believe whatever we want to believe

Should we perchance state
how curious it is
that no one has dared to think
'hold on a mo' my friends
let's see what happens
if we do nothing'
Ethan Solouki Nov 2015
As this heart beats and my mind thinks,
Battlefields are taking place inside of me.
Two main teams:
The Soul-Mind versus Flesh-Life.
Pirates and Sailors both floatin the same ship.
Peace, sometimes...though mostly misery,
As I attempt to find calm at sea.
The oppositions create distance with the teams,
As they've come to disrupt my woken dreams.
Which one is right, I often think.
Two of the same,
The same are not two.
There is no sense to be made.
We trade, we trade, playing this game.
We are yet to know that in the end...

All is the same.
Duality. High Waters Lower Waters
Pierre Ray Mar 2012
Visions of oppositions, positions and prison. The forward missions, the capitalism, criticism and optimism. The Amor, the adored, the allure and the awards! The doors, the poor, the gore and the sore.
The any and many! The many hoards of pennies, before the lords of plenty. The awkward, the backward, the hospital wards and the

mental. Furthermore, more roar and war with a governmental evil,
medieval in blue! Therefore as I do accrue the clues, the dues, the hues and views. Something’s of me? My belated peeling, feelings related to that of a shrine of the divine. Etched and sketched by a pencil and stencil. Designed by the heavens divine. A displaced or misplaced,

abused, bruised and reused utensil. Something’s of me? I am often depressed, half-dressed and suppressed. Distraught and stressed by
thoughts, thoughts that are fought, sought and taught. As I endeavor, forever dedicated. However, medicated or sedated! A neglected, suspected sinner. A grinner and winner in entice haste, with precise

pace! As I taste the waste of this offending never-ending race. Regardless heartless, relentless congress. Yes, in confessing to you; beware of the care, the dare, the flare, the rare of scare! Attempt to see
what I have seen in contempt! In-between or as a teen. The obscene or serene! The many scenes at the seams. Driven by schemes and themes

it seems! Full of the brave that craves! The deprave and the rave. Those things which sing from the grave... Something’s of me? These are no lies, as a book carefully look into my sorrowful eyes. See why I despise, why I am wise. Look beyond the ancient, powerful skies.
They’re in wonderful constant, radiant disguise. Something’s of me?

My sensitive life of delight in fight, fright and plight. My life of sight, my life of trite. My negative pride! My life’s awesome, positive stride! Inside as I cry, as I hide… I depressingly, devotedly, ignorantly, triumphantly, unfortunately, hopefully and literally say. I am definite that one day I will embark into the dark. Emulate as a creative,

relative spark! Onto Noah’s great and infinite ark. Sailing into the prevailing, unveiling rain... with much too gain, maintain, regain and retain. Believing, weaving and leaving the grieving, the blame, the flame, the fame, the insane and the pain.
preservationman Jan 2017
March with me back into history down memory lane
Oppositions upon oppositions being the blame
A voice being strong injustice like a blazing flame
Dr. Martin Luther King who was ready to take aim
Colored as it was used in the 1950’s and 60’s
****** called being all Afro Americans names
Beatings upon beatings
Enough was enough in Dr. King speaking out in no more
We shall overcome, but the message, we shall not run away
Fight we will along with the consequences still
There’s a train a coming, but its destination is victory
Multitudes all marching with a Civil Rights story
Eyes to the skies with God being the glory
Clasped arms and holding hands in togetherness illustrate
Numerous biblical songs for inspiration
March On and don’t tire, as we can’t let freedom expire
Washington needs to know, and we must let our disturbed voices show
Dr. King felt they had marched miles from towns into southern cities
But we as American’s people need no pity
But the time was right to move further south into Washington, DC

The very words of Dr. King brought the multitudes casting the Civil Rights presentation
The multitudes came by bus, car, train and motorcycle, as it didn’t matter, there was rapid message that needed to be heard and told
But the march was just that bold
Mahalia Jackson sang the gospel hymnal of “How I Got Over”
But added with that in my opinion, but how I got closer to knowing who got me over being God himself
However, this march was more than just colored, it was for all people in detouring the separation, but bringing all races together

Yet the opposition was always trying to get over in making injustice right
Yet American was stuck in it being the plight
But God was on Dr. King’s side
The multitudes proved it being the stride

It was on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, DC of “I Have a Dream Speech”
This is just a sample that is paraphrased, “I have a dream today that every Black, White, Jews and Catholic will be able to join hands and converse together in freedom
A dream being told and a mission being fulfilled
The platform may be empty, but Dr. King’s words still pack that impact as if it was yesterday
Dr. King’s spirit is overlooking over us from upon in Heaven and a high mountain
The sunrise is the timing for us to get up and stand up for the cause
The sun is shining bright for us to not stay in the shadows, but come out with dignity and pride
We must still make the Civil Rights shout
Dr. King may have been gone for years
But his voice being the plan is for us to continue to preserver
Instead of killing one another, we must embrace
There should not be any separation in any race
We must strengthen the weak chain
Injustice today can’t remain
Dr. Martin Luther King marched to glory
He is remembered being American’s distinguished story
Tomorrow may be another day, but Civil Rights must be here to stay
My voice into yours, are you listening or will you continue to be a problem?
Dr. King journeyed and conquered, what miles in footsteps you will be taking in the future?
In the distance, I hear march on, but we all must be everlasting strong.
Delicacy8100 Sep 2021
SHHHHHHH!

Silence conveys

Society Plays'

Rebellious oppositions'
taking position.

Disposition
Could you listen?
Defensive?

No
Chanting
No
Raving
All the labels keep us
Phrased
in moments of wonder for sure, a bit fazed.

Cured by clouds of HAZE
influenced by the world

Touché
At this moment
World- State is in order.
We the people of the world are gifted experiences mixed, matched.

No two thoughts the same,
(I love the rain)
similarity, insecurities?

Given a label.
Food, Water, Safety
to bring back sanity.

Greed brings swivers.
Amalgamation?
Combination?
THEY say
Instabilities?


Breaking down unity?

US rebellious share this unity along with a doobie.
New World Order
preservation
unifications'
Look to humanity, the future is standing.

WE ARE THE FUTURE!.
Aggravated?
Intimidated?

Good & Bad sometimes sad.
All in all
Together we stand.
Accessibility is Unification
**** Regulation
The coach signaled timeout and called the team to the sidelines.  There were eight minutes left in the biggest game of their lives, and they would be playing for three minutes with a severe disadvantage.  They had committed a succession of penalties within a span of less than 60 seconds, and they would now be playing without three men on the field.  In lacrosse this is referred to as ‘Man Down.’  

Usually it’s only ‘One Man Down,’ or at the most, ‘Two Men Down,’ but few watching that day had ever seen a team go ‘Three Men Down.’  This meant that their star goalie T.J. Braxton was only going to have three defenders in front of him instead of the usual six.

T.J. had been playing great, but he now had to play for two minutes with three men missing in front of him and then the third minute still missing one. It was going to seem like an eternity.  The coach looked over at T.J. and he was standing off to the side by himself not wanting to either look or talk to anyone during the intermission.  The coach understood this behavior because he had been a goalie himself and decided to leave T.J. alone — totally immersed within his own thoughts.

As they did the cheer to break the huddle, it was for their goalie …”1, 2, 3, Go T.J.”  What would happen now brought more pressure than any goalie should ever have to withstand.  Even going just ‘One Man Down’ would in many cases result in a goal for the other team.  Going ‘Two Men Down’ almost ensures the other team a goal, and anything beyond that just puts your goalie at the mercy of the shooters on the other team.

    And Tonight There Would Be No Mercy To Be Found

T.J. already had 18 saves up to this point with only half a quarter left to play in regulation. Saves are when a goalie either blocks or deflects an offensive shot from the other team. He had only let in three goals all game, and the score was tied at 3-3.  

Pennhurst was a powerful public school with large and fast athletes.  They had not been playing lacrosse as long as T.J.’s private (all-boys) school, Haverland Academy, but their natural athletic ability and inner toughness were making up for any experience lost.  

T.J. would have to defend his goal missing three men in front of him for two minutes and then missing one man for the next sixty seconds.  It was his team’s possession coming out of the timeout, and it was all they could do being so shorthanded to even get the ball across the mid-field line.  The coach’s tactic was not to shoot the ball now but to stall and to try and take as much time off the clock as they could until they could get more players back on the field.  T.J. stood rock solid in the center of the ‘crease’ in front of his goal and looked squarely at the goalie at the other end of the field. The ‘crease’ was the large circle surrounding the goal that no offensive player from the other team could enter. He seemed to not be following the ball and his coach wondered what was going on inside his head.

Playing goalie is 80% mental, and he was hoping his star goalie wasn’t going to have a melt down when his team needed him the most.  T.J. would normally be very active inside his own goal shouting instructions to the defensemen in front of him and trying to best position them for the oncoming attack.    

               Something ‘Seemed’ Different Tonight

T.J. had entered a new zone, one that he had never been in before, and one that only he could understand.  As Haverland’s lead attackman charged the opposing goal, the ball fell out of his stick. It was immediately picked up by the opposing goalie and ‘cleared’ to a midfielder standing outside and to his left.  The midfielder made one more pass to an attackman, and the ball was coming T.J.’s way with only three defenders in front of him to help stop the charge. The ball was again passed to one of their senior captains and their strongest midfielder.  

He juked left as he faked a pass and then as he cradled the ball wildly, he headed straight toward T.J. in the goal.  When he got within fifteen feet of the goal he stopped, set his feet, and with a violent and twisting motion fired an overhand shot across his right shoulder at the ground two feet in front of where T.J. now stood.

T.J. was now eighteen and a half and had been playing goalie since he was seven years old.  He had seen and defended almost every kind of shot and from every angle in those eleven years. He had just never had to do it before with almost no defense in front of him.  As the shot left the midfielders stick, T.J. reacted.  He took two steps forward and was able to scoop the ball out of the air at ankle height before it was able to bounce off the ground. Bounce shots were more difficult to save, and his accumulated instinct and experience allowed him to get this one and at least for now keep the score tied at 3-3.

T.J. ran behind his own goal toward the end line. With the ball in his stick he was trying to take time off the clock.  Only one opposing player chased him, and he was able to do a 180-degree spin, avoid that player, and run back out in front of his goal.  He then cleared the ball, the entire length of the field, to a midfielder standing in the far left corner.  T.J.’s team had the ball within thirty feet of the opposing goal with only two minutes left to run in penalty time.

T.J.’s offense decided it was time to step up and play big.  They managed to take a full minute off the clock with uncanny passing until the referee finally called stalling and gave the ball back to the other side.

As the ball came back in T.J’s direction, two of his penalized players retook the field.  They were now playing with only a ‘one man down’ disadvantage and for only sixty more seconds.

The opposing team set up in a perimeter in front of his goal passing the ball from man to man and then behind T.J.’s goal in an attempt to unbalance a still weakened defense.  As the ball went behind the net, T.J. rotated inside the crease never taking his eye off the ball.  He thought they were setting him up for something sneaky because his fundamental blocking skills on normal shots were so strong. More than anything he didn’t want to give up a cheap goal, and he wouldn’t have to wait long to find out that his suspicions had been correct.

As they passed the ball back and forth behind his goal, an attackman turned and tried to lob the ball over the back of the goal, and T.J.’s stick, to an opposing midfielder who was charging the front of the goal from about twenty-five-feet away.  They were hoping to catch T.J. mesmerized in what was going on behind the net and then reverse field and go in the one direction no one ever expected — over the back of the goal.  

It didn’t work!  As the ball left the midfielders stick, T.J. jumped high in the air and intercepted the pass in the shooting strings of his goalie stick.  He then spun around and ran directly to the out of bounds line to his right. It was beyond the defensive box, and he stood there waiting for someone to challenge him.  He was again trying to take precious seconds off the clock to get his team back to full strength. Although a goalie, T.J. was the fastest player on his team and that speed was like money in the bank to a team that was struggling and in trouble with time running out.

He managed to get the penalty down to twenty two seconds before he finally dished the ball off to another long stick defender and then quickly moved back in front of his goal.  That defensemen got across midfield just before another penalty would have occurred for not advancing the ball.  With only seventeen seconds left on the penalty, the offense passed the ball to the four corners looking for a man who was ‘hot’ (open) who could take the shot and finally break the tie.  With only three seconds left in the penalty their best attackman, John Erasmus, took the ball in his stick and with his left hand fired a side angle shot at the right side of the goal.  It was a great shot, but their goalie made a heroic save. He was also a senior and had transferred into Pennhurst two years ago from a Lacrosse powerhouse school in northern Maryland.

With both teams now at full strength, the ball went back and forth for the final five minutes with very few shots taken at either end.  The ones that were taken were weak and from great distance, and both goalies easily picked them up and started the ball going the other way.  Each shot was critical now because the game was tied with time running out.  Possession was more important than losing the ball to the other team by taking a poor shot.  As the lights shone brightly high above the scoreboard, time ran out in regulation.  The game would now go to sudden death overtime, and it would become about the strength of the face-off men and how hot each goalie was going to be.

    It Was Now About The Face-Off Man And The Goalies

In sudden death, the first team to score wins!  No second chances here it’s do or die time, and everything is amped up to an entirely new level.  Many times, the winner of the face off at midfield wins the game because everything is geared towards that one shot, and the pressure on the opposing goalie is tremendous.  Unless the goalie can isolate himself in a ‘zone of invincibility,’ the chances of blocking a shot in overtime due to a lost face off are not very good.  Just like in the NFL, where the coin toss often determines the winner in overtime, the face-off is like that coin toss only with skill and not luck determining the winner.  T.J. thought back to all the coaches and mentors that had brought him to where he was standing tonight.  They were all somewhere up in the stands, and they were all living and dying with him tonight in the goal.

      T.J. Decided That Tonight It Would Be About Life

The Captains met at the middle of the field as the referee explained the rules of sudden death.  All who were listening thought that the term was aptly named.  They shook hands again and ran back to the huddles on their respective sidelines.  Both coaches gave their overtime strategies to their teams, and they did one more cheer before retaking the field.  Both face off men walked slowly toward each other at the center mid-field line and stared each other directly in the eye.  

The physical disparity between the two players at mid-field was huge.  Haverland’s best face off man, George Arle, was 5’6’’ tall and 160 lbs. Pennhurst’s face off man, B.J. Radford, had been an All-State quarterback on the football team and was 6’3’’ and 225 lbs.  Although Lacrosse was not his primary sport,  he had played it for the last four years and by anyone’s account he was a ‘stud player.’  The skill in taking face offs is unlike any other in Lacrosse.  It’s more similar to recovering a fumble in football or picking up a loose five-dollar bill dropped on the floor in Penn Station in New York.  It’s uncontrolled mayhem with the skill to do it only evident to those who have been there. And it’s those players who know painfully well what it takes to win the fight for the ball.

Although T.J.’s face off man George had had a good season, he always struggled against players that were that much bigger than him and usually lost the ball.  The ref. positioned the ball between the two boys sticks who were both crouched down and ready at mid-field.  The whistle blew, and George lost the ball as B.J. picked it up and charged right over George’s left shoulder.  He was headed in a straight line right toward T.J. who was standing fixed and ready in front of his goal.  B.J. passed the ball to a midfielder who kept it only a second before passing it to an attackman who was off to the right of the goal.  The attackman looked to his left and faked a pass to his right.  He then spun around and with all his might fired a bounce shot on an angle from the right facing side of Haverland’s goal.  

T.J. stepped forward, scooped the ball up on the first bounce, and in one fluid motion flipped the ball out to a defenseman on the left perimeter. This player cradled it inside his long stick as he took off down the sideline and across midfield.  The defenseman made a pass to a middie on the extreme other side of the field who then passed to an attackman. This man ran around behind the net and came out on the other side in front of the goal, shot the ball, but it went wide right.  The other team was closest to the ball when it went out of bounds, so it was Pennhurst’s possession, and it was coming back T.J.’s way.

Their goalie cleared the ball left to a long stick defenseman, who in turn made a long pass directly to an attackman, and the ball was once again in the oppositions stick less than thirty feet from the goal T.J. was defending.  This attackman had no intention of passing.  He put his head down and charged straight ahead toward T.J.  As his coach was screaming at him to pass, and it the midst of five defensive players, he fired off a shot.  It came at a side angle, and, with all of the players surrounding the shooter, it was hard for T.J. to see the ball come off the kid’s stick.  

When T.J. finally did see the ball, it had passed the head of his stick, and he was just able to get a piece of the ball with the bottom of his shaft. It was just enough to deflect the ball upwards and over the goal and into the chain link fence fifty feet behind the crease.  On instinct alone, T.J. ran after the ball and being closest to it when it went out of bounds, he picked it up in his stick and slowly walked forward. This gave his midfielders time to transition back up to the other end of the field.

T.J. was living on borrowed time.  Making one save in overtime was huge, but making two, and one with only the shaft of his stick to save it all, was stretching the limits of whatever luck the team had left.  T.J. easily passed the ball to an unguarded defenseman who ‘walked’ the ball up-field and then tossed it to a midfielder just in front of the offensive box.  

The offensive box is the restrained and shorter ‘boxed-out’ area right in front of the goalie and where most shots are taken, and most goals are scored. The midfielder made a pass to his left to an attackman, who tried to make a long looping pass across the face of the box, but it was intercepted by one of the oppositions long stick middies and passed quickly to another midfielder as it transitioned back again towards T.J. This time the ball was coming straight at T.J., and it had taken less than five seconds to get there.  His team was not set yet and this charge could be the end of it all.

T.J.’s team had been caught napping in an uncharacteristic moment of uncertainty.  Pennhurst’s top midfielder again had the ball, and he was charging at T.J. who had only two players set and not the normal six in front of him to play defense.

Surprisingly to T.J., this player then made a pass to the extreme right corner and that attackman ran behind T.J.’s goal giving his defense more time to reset.  This player then made a pass to the left side, and it was once again in the stick of their best midfielder, Matt Makritis.  Midfielders, or Middies, as they’re often called are many times the best athletes on the team.  They have to play both offense and defense and run the entire length of the field while their shift is on. Makritis was a high school All-American, and he was charging at full speed toward the left front facing side of T.J.’s goal.

                       T.J. Was An All-American Too!

T.J. was also an All-American and had recently been on the front cover of ‘Inside Lacrosse Magazine’ and featured as the #1 player coming out of High School Lacrosse that year.  He thought to himself that all of that press would be meaningless if he allowed this shot to go in.  The opposing midfielder continued toward the crease unguarded, got within ten feet of the goal, and fired point blank at T.J.  No fancy bounce shots or behind the back this time.  This shot was straight at T.J.’s head, and from less than ten feet away. T.J. caught the ball in the fat part of his goalie sticks net.  It didn’t stay there though.  The power of the shot caused it to come out of his stick, in what is referred to as a rebound, as it rolled ten or twelve feet out in front of the goal.

A second midfielder then picked up the ball, and not lifting it from the ground, fired a shot right back at T.J. This was more like a golf shot than a lacrosse shot, and T.J. struggled to see from which direction the ball was coming.  As the ball came back at T.J. at a severe angle, headed toward the left backside of the net, he stretched his body out like a goalie in the NHL.  Doing a full split in front of the net, he was able to get a piece of the ball with his right cleat and deflect the ball off to the left side of the goal. As the ball rolled harmlessly toward the far side of the endline, the referee blew his whistle.  The first three-minute overtime period had ended.

    They Had Survived Sudden Death For Three Minutes

Both teams huddled tightly with their coaches and trainers.  This time though, T.J. didn’t leave the crease at all.  He was leaning against the goal with his back turned to the field. It was almost as if he was talking to someone you couldn’t see and totally immersed in a world of his own.  There are several times in a man’s life that define and underline not only who he is, but who he will then become.  This was one of those times for T.J.

                                 And He Knew It

Both teams wearily took the field.  The pressure of an extremely tight game, and then surviving one overtime period, had taken its toll.  As the face-off men bent low and readied for the ball, T.J.’s back was still facing the field.  When he heard the whistle blow he spun around and it was like someone twice his 6’2’’ size was playing goalie.  He seemed to fill the entire net with his presence and there was an ‘aura’ coming from him that surrounded the entire defensive end of the field.

Once again, George lost the face off to the All-State quarterback and star midfielder, B.J. Radford.  This time however, the look on B.J.’s face was different.  Although fairly new to Lacrosse, inside his chest beat the heart of a champion.  He almost stepped on George as he picked up the ball and headed straight over the mid-field line and directly at T.J.  This senior captain had no intention of passing, and he was going to ‘ice’ the game for his teammates and fans.  B.J. was not known as a great shooter but more for his defensive skills. He was a great athlete though, and this charge was not to be taken lightly by anyone on the defensive end of the field.  

                 B.J. Knew This Was His Moment

Without stopping or setting his feet, he raised his stick above his head and shot the ball toward the right corner of the net at over ninety miles an hour.  T.J. saw this one all the way and caught the ball in his stick.  He then ran out of the goal and passed B.J. who was still coming his way as he charged past him and headed straight down the field.  T.J. was out of the defensive box and headed toward the mid-field line.  He was looking at nothing in front of him except the opposing goalie who was now staring at him with an incredulous look on his face inside the opposing crease.

Everyone there that night had their mouth’s open in awe.  No one expected the goalie to ever make the final break, and no one watching had ever seen a goalie possessed with such speed.  The other team was in awe too and just kept watching him run. They were all guarding open men who they were sure T.J. would eventually pass the ball to.

                                  He Didn’t Pass

When he crossed the midfield line, the fans went wild and stood up.  One of his midfielders had the presence of mind to stay back behind the midfield line so that an offsides wouldn’t be called.  In Lacrosse, you always need at least three men back plus the goalie in the defensive end.  Once T.J. crossed midfield, one of the midfielders had to stay back.

T.J. approached the offensive box in front of their goalie with only one thing on his mind.  He had been acutely watching this kid all day and he had noticed one thing.  This was a fundamentally sound and ‘play up’ goalie and one would who would rise to the occasion when the heat was on.  He had transferred into Pennhurst only two years ago and based on his great skill, he had gotten them this far.  He had one weakness though that T.J. had observed — he couldn’t handle the off-speed shots, especially over his left shoulder.

The left shoulder is opposite the goalie stick’s head if you’re right handed. In his case, the only weakness that T.J. had seen,
other than his struggle with off-speed shots, were those directed high up and left.  Like a changeup in baseball, the off-speed shot often confused the goalie’s timing and could cause him to over or under react at just the right time.  T.J. continued to charge the goal.

By this time, two defensemen from Pennhurst were running from both sides to get to T.J. before he could shoot, but his speed was too much.  As he approached the crease from the right side, he raised his stick above his head.  He threw his lower right elbow at the goalie as if executing a shot.  His stick-head never moved, but the goalie bit on the fake.  He waved the head of his stick high right and then easily lobbed the ball over the Pennhurst goalie’s left shoulder.  The referee blew the whistle — the game was over —and T.J.’s team had finally won.

The other goalie dropped to his knees and then put both hands on the ground in front of him.  T.J. went over and picked him up saying: “You may have lost on the scoreboard tonight, but you never gave up. I’m proud to have played against you.”

Haverland had just won the State Championship, and most watching said it was the greatest goalie performance at any level that they had ever seen.  T.J. was voted ‘Most Valuable Player’ of the game. In the fall, he would be off to a top 10 Lacrosse University where he would major in Criminal Justice and take his goalie skills to an even higher level.

T.J.’s coach told him after the game that you can play lacrosse for your entire lifetime and never be able to play or recreate what you just did.  His future college coach, who had been in the stands watching, came down on the field and put his arm around T.J. after the game and told him the same thing.  He went on to say: “T.J., I had my whole speech ready before you went into overtime.  I thought I might have to come down here and tell you that although you lost — you lost really well.

   T.J. Did Not Want To Believe That Losing Well Was Really Possible!

“You had made all those heroic saves throughout the game for your team, and if you had to lose, it would have been a great way to do it.  The only problem with my prepared speech is that you didn’t lose. As I watched you in the goal with your back turned to the field as the second overtime period started, I said to my assistant coach Dave, who’s over talking to your folks, that our new and future goalie is in a zone that few can ever get to.  He will not be scored on again tonight.  Tonight, and for however long this game lasts — he is truly invincible. And I don’t believe I’ve ever used that word to describe a player before.”

Many years passed and one day T.J got an email from his old high school coach.  The coach told him that once again his school, Haverland, would be playing for the State Championship and he wanted to run his pre-game speech by T.J. before his boys took the field.  It was short and to the point.  What he wanted to tell the boys was: “It wouldn’t be the number of players on the field but who those players were and what was coming from inside their hearts that would make all the difference.”  He then went on to tell the story of T.J. in the State Championship Game that took place over ten years before.  

Some of the boys had heard the story, but all were in awe listening to the emotion and passion in their coach’s voice as he retold the story again.  It was like replaying that game with the current Haverland players and right before the most important game that most of them would ever play.  

Haverland won the State Championship again that day and many of the boys said that it was the pre-game speech about T.J. and his team’s overtime victory that fueled their desire and commitment to make it happen.  It was also a close game, and with two minutes to go the score was again tied. Five times during the game they had gone ‘one-man’ down but had only allowed one goal to be scored during those five uneven possessions by the other team.  Haverland was then able to strip the ball from their opponent twice in the final two minutes and convert both into scores — ending the game at 7-5.

Along a lonely hallway in the back of Haverland’s new athletic center hangs a plaque with the story of that night so many years ago.  But to T.J., and all the members of that legendary team, the thing that hangs highest — is their refusal to lose.

The possibility of being invincible would stay inside T.J. and all who were there to watch him play that night. He learned that at the end of the streak where luck ends, sometimes you have to enter that zone …

                                 And Just ‘Will It’ To Happen.
This is not for substance
Depth, not pragmatic at all
emotional ******* when mentally I'm Lance Armstrong, wit blue ball

But wit *****,I mean thoughts, as I Tom Cruz through life, so an apology
Id owe myself if not against my policy
Cuz "I'm sorry" like Scientology

Don't make sense so astrology
Can try to map out my stars
I just hope Lady Luck shows up Before Chris brown, and she sees stars

What can I say, I can really charm
Like lucky charms I march mellow
I like girls who still say&count; their chubby bunnys...no marsh mellows

If I lost u there ....just mellow
like yellow,pop songs whorin out hello
So of course forced ******* lately seems endorsed ...pudding pop, jello

Can't be trusted bad enough kids aren't safe anywhere ...gone
I even over react at subway when my sons asked if he wants a foot long

I already know this is foolish
But the rule is ...the real fool is
Those schooled by the useless
at least I know I'm stupid

Taking it out of context, no contest
Your honor....Honest
That was the first time I promise
I hardly ever try to hit on prom kids

Wit tight grips to poke a Bonnet
Off the bun from poccohontis
When findin the island of *****
Oops "He Broke her *******"

That blood soaks on a sausage
....Just another day at the office
Where we process the obnoxious
til the world is my Hospice

A no knowledge college for knowledge to abolish the need
To be correct politically&bree;;
seeds Thatll bleed to succeed

Sp our goal, of bringing awareness
To the shortages pendin
As extinction of bent bananas grow
Straight, it's time to help bendin

bananas, but whats bananas is
ignoring real issues latched
To Muslim hate talks,instigated
Infiltrated so u won't go snap

When they send more of our kids to war, so if u hate, like they ask
When propaganda props the jenga, NVM...wait..look! Kim kardashian ***

That needs a cardigan...plaid
"Drugs drugs drugs! which are bad"
Ask your mom who made u at prom
Or ask your alcoholic abusive dad

Who thinks Itampons a small iPad
Where Dark and red bleeds
quoted Moses"a wifes rags a bonus, So like me  "part the Red Sea"

Will need are secure like cures
the government assures us do not
Really Exist like seniors ****, that
firmly sits, and not hip drop

implying the governments got
secrets but dont ask me ****
Cause wit metaphors, I'm never sure  
Maybe the govt has saggy ****

Some dictions descriptions givin has restriction or depiction's
equivocal, so ones vision of religion
Is another's flashback circumcision  

To an unforgiven rabbis hasty snip
No one Asked "may we strip"
The turtle neck ******* on your slim
priest teasing baby ****

But written permission maybe fit
When a baby's **** and crazy ****
Is so uncivil to fiddle and whittle the little middle, above my skittles it sits

And the initial riddle is, riddle this
What Is sprinkled with ****
And Often tinkles to spit ..
Full of wrinkles, it tickles... The hint?

If she swallowed and followed the
nutrients that hallows out ....
Ud still have wrinkles but it helps to single out,who's single⁢'s about

Time2see my psychologist who yells I need help...(yells) I need help!"
She said her head, lead her to bed
And said her brains dead &melts;

And to blame for her frame of mind
Is the frame of mine, it's the kind
That very rarely has thoughts that carry any logic&scare;; me but I'm

Just daring and not caring but im
sharing the mind of jerry
Where clowns fill towns with slide whistle sounds&priests; that marry

Donald trump And Carrie
Whos news was very scary
as Carrie had to carry a Kanye west hilter hybrid and Arbitrary

Is how arbitrary and arm pit hair be
Armed with hairy Italian yarn
That they wear as bare, but armed
Is bare **** arms that like bear arms

Bears a bears hair where arms
Are usually bare but bears harmed
Is how the thick hair I wear, where it's layered, but not the ****

Hair that impairs where my palms  
Look like they grow two beards
But it's not like i would blow deers
maybe Bambi...who knows were

Not gettin hypothetical to go near
How endearing a dear is it's queer as for my hairy palms I wrote them
Ahem, Dear palms: be calm I'm here

And I'm so sorry u resemble the
Essential pieces that are detrimental
For trump hair that trump wears but
His is authentic ******* Assembled

By the youngest child laborer, paid
less than the condoms for rapin her
So embezzle on levels of unethical
Devils black *** ...and kettle...sure

Let's move on to...Ernie, hey it's Bert
I don't discriminate
Support abortion, or the portion
supportin orphans who's cure

Is particular and par with a ****
Who's testicular inhibitors
Make him a prematurely Shirley
So surely he's early in visitors

So to recap the crap hid in were
Child labour jokes great!
Abortion, psychotic neurotic topics
******* that'll fill in ya, all the hate

Oh wait wait wait...Can't forget ****
Or what I call a bill Cosby date
Afternoon delight? You'll sleep past moon and right to the drowsy awake

State... Wait.. are u a ****? Great!
I never ***** one of those
That's enough Cosby dialogue
It's dyin off, so I'm signin off vogue

Strike a pose, like a ****** my
***** bled all up my skirt in
My ****** like I was al bundy,
****** as a ted bundy surgeon

So uncomfortable like twerkin
When you see 12 yr old butts
That makes me want to be free of
tv, but it makes r Kelly want to ***

So go hug or **** a tree
He'll, **** two, have a treesome
this abuse of my speechs freedom
Must stand alone cause these dumb

Words.. This world.. needs none
cheeses of diseases...egregious,
The weedless, read this,&say; Jesus
Is he nuts? It's Needless,

deep pits, of pre-mixed, ***-*****
Three ****... Please fix
demons *****, from a **** bleedin
Fresh out yeast infected sheep *****

Where we sit&read; this,
praise Jesus Allah and people
Cause were all just quirky, evil
Good, obnoxious naive deceitful

******* with **** smells that equal
Even if not the same
We all bleed, breed and feel pain
And love a good line of *******

No wait , ****, sometimes my brain
Can't contain the stupid
Do models use the same fingers to ******* that use to puke wit?

I know.... I'm ****** useless
An abused ego bruised nuisance
Like **** pics sent to fit chicks
When they want rich pics, so do this

Take pics of a receipt that u slip
From the machine you use, if
You really wanna know, if they'll
Blow whats in the pic u send, do it

Cause she'll blow all that u fit
In the pic u send her I'm sure
And if your still reading this,
Im meanin this,u need help..a cure

Mental stability, tranquility, and
The ability, to stop the instability
Convoluted, polluted, and stupid
Literature, it can cause infertility

And psychotic, psychosomatic,
Psychosis, voodoo and neurosis
poetry roaches Eye halitosis,
To erode the road wit your soul if

You ****-inue, reading soulless
Ambivalence, so belligerent
That insolence so Insignificant
Is magnificent,

A Malignant indignant, piglet, in a
predicament, that approaches
As I ******* my immaculate *****
So swallow this osmosis

insufficient like what I've written  or Tuberculosis, and oh ****!
The oppositions mission is fixing
The risen conditions, to position

***** induced, goblin puke
Gobblin through, all of the usual
Til I'm suitable for cubicles made of pharmaceuticals ...indubitable

Now I'm awful like waffles, made in a
bra full, of a mucus' nostril
putrid puke with stomach fluids,, a used ****** u chew in brothel

It's a cross between a re-run
Of *******'delinquence&bee; dung
Don't think Im gd ppls than be one

And my wise parting words
Are not the rise of farting nerds
Or pretentious self righteousness
Of those dry and artsy jerks
Noura May 2021
Every body is always trying to understand
Even to force
All of these binary oppositions
On everything and everyone
But here I am
An odd one out
I am everything and nothing
I am a saint
And I am a sinner
I am happy
And I am sad
I am male
And I am female
I am a child
And I am an adult
I am dead
And I am alive
I am everything
And I am nothing.
Nicholas Rew Nov 2011
We fabricate contradictions
To argue with oppositions
And observe life's details
So I can claim a side

Then start a dialogue
With fists held tight
Just to rationalize myself
My reasoning reigns right

We go and we do
While assuming every step
Remains rooted in reality
Contradicting dreams we have slept
Sacrelicious Mar 2020
I'm just throwing pennies in a well.
Wishing to stay relevant.

Like one does when
keeping up with the Jones's.

Here to fight a losing battle
with the day before me.

Because the night marked me present.
And I'm still here.

Despite all opposition.
els Feb 2014
I want someone to analyze me.
Learn my binary oppositions,
my repetitions,
my anomalies.
Find the strands that connect,
Paraphrase me. X3.
Dissect every phrase.
Learn me.
Feel me between your fingers.
Fold me.
Backwardsandforwards,
Insideandout upsidedown.
Memorize me.
Don't forget me.
rough rough rough
Frisk Jun 2014
comparing
contrasting
there's more
oppositions
and i'm sick
of it.

- kra
Elijah Bulatao Oct 2014
What am I to be when others define who I am?!
Foolish mortals! How dare they! Am I realize this "friendship" is a scam?!
Friendship is nothing more than a torch to be blown by winds of change!
It is utterly meaningless when fools enjoy me for my many rages!
What am I?! Am I to be cast to oblivion?! To depths deeper than hell?!
Let those who abuse me, let no mercy be done! Let God tell!
Allow the strikes of death and plague to be unleashed unto to them!
And ensure their coffins sealed, for they shall be devoured by Nephilim!
Make peace unto me, their misrepresentations decide who live or dies!
Make them pay, their bodies scorched by fire where their bodies lie!
Peace and justice will be made to me, because I shall possess the keys!
Make of them suffering and eternal torment, and destroy their families!
I shall be forever victorious and crush my enemies underneath my feet!
And their puny and insignificant presence, ha! They shall face defeat!
No longer will my "friends" use me once and dispose of me immediately!
I will be ruler of a world where my castle everyone be amazed will see!
The majesty of my wonderful rule! When I die, I shall leave a legacy!
"He is he who destroyed his foes and casted them to the guillotine."
"His past was days when people of his mocked with such keen."
"But he rose from his sorrow and by his sword his enemies fell."
"His blood of vengeance runs through the rivers to the dells."
This will be written that of my tombstone when the time is right.
And when my enemies rise again from the shadows, I shall put my light!
The light of my truth, my justice, and my ways to live right!
Their oppositions crushed thousandfold and my armies unstoppable!
Let my revenge from the past fuel the finale that is incomprehensible!
Meteorites from heaven of flame become redder by my enemies' blood!
Even if they rise the flag of surrender, I refuse! Make them shunned!
And so my kingdom is at peace, when war halts and revenge is done!
Let their be tranquility in my land at last, now let freedom run!
Allow the spirit of freedom to spread across my great land!
And where enemies fall, make my virtues and glory stand!
Where people of the millionfold descend to see and adore me!
And at last, make my revenge and cleanse it. It is now free.
(Sigh) This is actually how I feel when people like to see me just to rage. I kind of have short term anger, so I do get angry relatively quick; I can almost never take jokes. Sometimes I think people just want me to scream is because they like it, and I feel in doing so, they like me as a friend. However, I am deceived, and I hate myself for doing so. So welcome to the other side of me.
Puspanjali Sahu Jun 2016
I saw a little girl
come near to her window
and see the raindrops falling
so intensely
as if
with the rain drops
her feeling are slipping away  

Each time
I think
this time
surely this time
she will  open the doors
and come out
will lift her arms
into the sky
and made her inhibitions
fall down    

This time
surely this time
she will strip out
her feelings
forget
all those things
you termed
as regrets  
and let her soul
lie down    

This time
surely this time
she will open her mind
close her eyes
will keep her senses unfold
but will not try to hold  
Rather will allow
each drop of rain
glide through her veins    

But  this time
this time also
hesitations grips her feet
and she tried to touch
warmth of dripping raindrops
from the other side of the window
with her fingertips    

I looked into her eyes
and felt
if I look little longer
she will cry
I wonder why?    

One sunny afternoon
when she was out
with her rosy pink smirk
and obligatory look  
I asked her
what keeps her live in secret pain
Does not she love rain?  

With fluttering voice
she replied
Yes  
I
I also
love rain
But I could love rain
only from my windows side
because I love my rain boots
more than I love rain  

And  I afraid
If I walk in rain
rain will distilled my vein
but my rain boot
will be filled with pain  

I wish
I could hold her hands tight
and give her  
all my strength
to fight
heavy prohibitions
unconstrained dedication
and painful oppositions
that will come on her way
which she thinks
will be like sunny days
warm and bright    

I wish I could say
on her face
rain can and will cover suddenly
a sunny bright dry sky  
and  
on that day
your rain filled boot
will not walk with you

So,
don’t try hard
to drag them
with your emotions
Don’t let your feelings
sink helplessly
in the sea of depression  

Rather put your rain boots off
Let your naked feet feel
the coldness of the refreshing  flowing water of rain  

and
start loving your rain like life  
again
Few people try hold their past incidents, feeling/relations forcefully in spite of knowing they can not make everything work. This poem is to tell all of you
Don't made your present suffer holding your past tigh
Mary Gay Kearns Jan 2019
Optimism and pessimissism
A binary opposition
Unsuited to this world
Must change our way of thinking.

Use needs to be more particular
More sensitive
More refined
Find a better word kind.

Love Mary ***
CharlesC Apr 2013
Opposites or poles
look carefully inside
poles unify...


A poem draft
with nighttime delay
trims nicely...


Auto repairs
on path to rustpile
this delay...


Famous theologian
talk on scripture errors
spiritual hunger...?


A discussion
oppositions ride supreme
dialogue limps...
Quentin Briscoe Aug 2014
Place knives to throats and slit
We all will bleed red blood..
I can't take off this Humanity
You see me as an infection
Killing us off, openly without question
I'll reincarnate Black again, But Panther...  

Shall I stand for this injustice
Even superhumans can be shot dead..
Ask the symbols MLK, and X
How do we unify our people
The people will never look colorless
Dying from the silent growing masses...

Outrageous oppositions ostracizing organized optimist outreach.
Taking time to think that's trail
Hearing hurtful harm, Hard heading home
Everyone experiences earth's eerie evil effects  
Reaching ramifications revolving round recent Revolts
Some Stay Silent, Some Shout Supercilious

Teach us How to Sit In
Stamp me with a Bobby Seale
Certify me to be a Leader
Protect me with Urban Newton's Laws
Let my fist again mean Power!!
May my tongue Gather the masses!!

Will you wait until its you..
Locked down behind their Military's Blockades
They already see you as animal..
Show your fangs Bare your Pride..
They need no reason, Give one!!
Make them fear beyond their thoughts...

I am the soul of America
We are the Backbone of Liberty    
The land that grows your fruits
Our Blood runs through every root
We taught you how to survive
Without Color you are only European....

— The End —