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"outnumber" poems
This, this song I made you, let it pierce your heart, like the silver moon earrings, I gave you. Hear my voice, close your eyes, Let me hold you on high. Let me hold you on high. Like the Kansas fields that outnumber the stars, let's walk on the wheat fields of gold, for even if I can't forgive you, my heart will freely love you. Over and over like red Georgia Peaches,  like Florida Beaches, wave after wave, rock upon rock, drips of light let's fall upon imagination, let our man run wild,    For the diamonds at dusk, are waiting for us. For like the Chicago sunrise, let the waves of it's sunrise, sing you back to life, until you and are most alive. Embrace me, hold onto me, like a California dream, pretend it's just me, like the ring on your finger, let this be, let this be, a time between you and me, like your silver moon earrings. For if you harden your heart, we can go back to one, let me be like your silver moon earrings, where I hold you on high. where I hold you on high.
0
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC
Chicago Sunrise
"One lie weakens a thousand truths." "Karma finishes what revenge neglects." "Time heals, steals and reveals." "The future is uncertain, but we play a part in its design." "Help when you can. Pray when you can't." "If your life is out of focus, it's time to change the lens." "Instincts over impulse, always." "The only thing better than a second chance is never needing one." "Fear is a light sleeper." "The devil is always looking for a dance partner." "You can't change the past, but it can change you." "Some are born with a silver spoon, others with a pitchfork." "Even the smallest of pebbles has its place in the sand." "Every tear has a name." "Write your failures in pencil; your triumphs in ink." "Hope is always listening." "The best companion is your imagination." "Two things you should always trust: your gut and your God." "Scars speak every language." "Only I think like me." "We're remembered for three things: the times we did good, the times we did bad and the times we did nothing." "Every underdog wants to be top cat." "Love never travels alone." "Hindsight teaches when the test is over." "Dreams reveal what memories conceal." "The problem with the world is the wolves outnumber the sheep." "You can't spell tragedy without rage." "Intuition is your strongest ally." "Focus on the valley and the hills will disappear." "Never trust an idle thought." "A wounded animal always shows its teeth." "When you ignore pain, it ignores you." "The past and future are distant cousins." "We're all buried treasures waiting to be found." "Moonlight is for lovers and devils." "Temptation always invites itself to the party." "Everyone's story has a secret." "Scents and songs are nostalgic reminders." "Time is a tattletale." "There's a special place in heaven for those who suffer on earth." "Life is a dir†y fighter." "Sometimes all that's left is a penny and a wish." "The mirror mimics what the mind imagines." "Tomorrow is a wild card." "My favorite exercise is sleepwalking." "What the blind man sees, the sighted man seeks." "The ego is a phony friend." "Luck will take you as far as fate allows." "Two things that never forget: elephants and broken hearts." "My train of thought has no conductor."
0
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 2:49 PM UTC
Quotes
"One lie weakens a thousand truths." "Karma finishes what revenge neglects." "Time heals, steals and reveals." "The future is uncertain, but we play a part in its design." "Help when you can. Pray when you can't." "If your life is out of focus, it's time to change the lens." "Instincts over impulse, always." "The only thing better than a second chance is never needing one." "Fear is a light sleeper." "The devil is always looking for a dance partner." "You can't change the past, but it can change you." "Some are born with a silver spoon, others with a pitchfork." "Even the smallest of pebbles has its place in the sand." "Every tear has a name." "Write your failures in pencil; your triumphs in ink." "Hope is always listening." "The best companion is your imagination." "Two things you should always trust: your gut and your God." "Scars speak every language." "Only I think like me." "We're remembered for three things: the times we did good, the times we did bad and the times we did nothing." "Every underdog wants to be top cat." "Love never travels alone." "Hindsight teaches when the test is over." "Dreams reveal what memories conceal." "The problem with the world is the wolves outnumber the sheep." "You can't spell tragedy without rage." "Intuition is your strongest ally." "Focus on the valley and the hills will disappear." "Never trust an idle thought." "A wounded animal always shows its teeth." "When you ignore pain, it ignores you." "The past and future are distant cousins." "We're all buried treasures waiting to be found." "Moonlight is for lovers and devils." "Temptation always invites itself to the party." "Everyone's story has a secret." "Scents and songs are nostalgic reminders." "Time is a tattletale." "There's a special place in heaven for those who suffer on earth." "Life is a dir†y fighter." "Sometimes all that's left is a penny and a wish." "The mirror mimics what the mind imagines." "Tomorrow is a wild card." "My favorite exercise is sleepwalking." "What the blind man sees, the sighted man seeks." "The ego is a phony friend." "Luck will take you as far as fate allows." "Two things that never forget: elephants and broken hearts." "My train of thought has no conductor."
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50
I make a lot of enemies without intending, They outnumber me greatly with their size but they cannot withstand the wrath of fury; I come ****** but unbowed to these wimps Hence, they unleash a band of Anthropophagus Well, I have the ***** to slain these monsters The sight of them is infuriating, less frightening I gave them something to mourn - I have to Again, I walked away from the battle unbowed Because I have what it takes to **** a mockingbird But, it didn't make me feel better or worse I have to put up with them and their excesses Now, you will understand why I never turn to see who stab me in the back - it's not worth turning
0
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
Black Knight
The Equalist! RE: The guerrilla girl’s poster 5% women artists yet 85% of the models are female. This poster was heralded as a feminist rebuff of misogyny and the male gaze. It is my opinion: one of the reasons females are more sexualised than males in Western society; is because the majority of women working in a sexualised industry such as modelling, dancing, fashion or *********** choose to perpetuate that role and the connection between *** and femininity; often in industries where females outnumber the men six to one; I'm also aware that the majority of the hierarchy in theses industries are male, it seems their gender solidarity is more concerned with the money; than notions of ****** inequality; thus perpetuating the issue. Vernacular test: Step one - Question one: I took a survey of 30 fellow artists asking what is a misandry? followed by what is your gender? Step two - Question two: I took a survey of 30 fellow artists asking what is a misogyny? followed by what is your gender? I did offer any information or allow any of the subjects to see the survey paper, or overhear the question. Results: 30 subjects took part in the survey; One female knew both words and their meaning, and one female didn't know what Misogyny was. (Two females approached refused to take part in the survey, all men approached engaged.) Step three - Question three: I then gave all the subjects the dictionary definition and asked why they thought the vernacular misandry is not as well known as the word misogyny? (I should add that I too couldn't recall the vernacular meaning of: Misandry; though I could recall the meaning or definition of Misogyny.) Answers: Female... "I don't care" Female... "It's due to a gender economic imbalance" Female..."Blokes just don't like it when women speak out about it" Female..."I don't get involved in protests" Female..."I don't know" Female..."Men just think with their ****** Female... "There's more misogynists" Female... "Because men are pigs" Female... "Why does it mater" Female... "It's just a word" Female... "I'm not interested" Female..."Try being a women" Female... " It's ******** it's just a vernacular" Female..."You wouldn't understand your a man" The other 5 Females... chose to offer no explanation. Answers: Male..."I don't know" Male... "who cares" Male... "Yeh that's interesting" Male... Why does it matter" Male... "Let me think about it" Male... "Who gives a **** Male... "What's this about" Male... "Can I see the results later" The other 2 males... Chose to offer no explanation. I personally identify as human; and don't wish to be defined, labeled or marginalised; I also don’t believe that secularism in any measure is healthy or meaningful in an inclusive society. I question why 29 out of 30 subjects had heard of Misogyny; and just one person had heard of Misandry. Sexism is not as the dictionary suggested prejudice, stereotyping, or discrimination, typically against women. Everyone is effected buy prejudice, stereotyping, or discrimination. The subtleties of which is played out every day.
0
Feb 5, 2020
Feb 5, 2020 at 11:32 AM UTC
The equalist
The Equalist! RE: The guerrilla girl’s poster 5% women artists yet 85% of the models are female. This poster was heralded as a feminist rebuff of misogyny and the male gaze. It is my opinion: one of the reasons females are more sexualised than males in Western society; is because the majority of women working in a sexualised industry such as modelling, dancing, fashion or *********** choose to perpetuate that role and the connection between *** and femininity; often in industries where females outnumber the men six to one; I'm also aware that the majority of the hierarchy in theses industries are male, it seems their gender solidarity is more concerned with the money; than notions of ****** inequality; thus perpetuating the issue. Vernacular test: Step one - Question one: I took a survey of 30 fellow artists asking what is a misandry? followed by what is your gender? Step two - Question two: I took a survey of 30 fellow artists asking what is a misogyny? followed by what is your gender? I did offer any information or allow any of the subjects to see the survey paper, or overhear the question. Results: 30 subjects took part in the survey; One female knew both words and their meaning, and one female didn't know what Misogyny was. (Two females approached refused to take part in the survey, all men approached engaged.) Step three - Question three: I then gave all the subjects the dictionary definition and asked why they thought the vernacular misandry is not as well known as the word misogyny? (I should add that I too couldn't recall the vernacular meaning of: Misandry; though I could recall the meaning or definition of Misogyny.) Answers: Female... "I don't care" Female... "It's due to a gender economic imbalance" Female..."Blokes just don't like it when women speak out about it" Female..."I don't get involved in protests" Female..."I don't know" Female..."Men just think with their ****** Female... "There's more misogynists" Female... "Because men are pigs" Female... "Why does it mater" Female... "It's just a word" Female... "I'm not interested" Female..."Try being a women" Female... " It's ******** it's just a vernacular" Female..."You wouldn't understand your a man" The other 5 Females... chose to offer no explanation. Answers: Male..."I don't know" Male... "who cares" Male... "Yeh that's interesting" Male... Why does it matter" Male... "Let me think about it" Male... "Who gives a **** Male... "What's this about" Male... "Can I see the results later" The other 2 males... Chose to offer no explanation. I personally identify as human; and don't wish to be defined, labeled or marginalised; I also don’t believe that secularism in any measure is healthy or meaningful in an inclusive society. I question why 29 out of 30 subjects had heard of Misogyny; and just one person had heard of Misandry. Sexism is not as the dictionary suggested prejudice, stereotyping, or discrimination, typically against women. Everyone is effected buy prejudice, stereotyping, or discrimination. The subtleties of which is played out every day.
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45
. Watching the rise and the fall of a kingdom Walls once rebuilt again tumble the ground Allowing the beasties free reign in the village Bellowing out o’er the wickedest sound Pacing the streets, seeking out bits of garbage Leaving their stains on the innocent few Leering in windows where children are hiding Tender young things and so easy to chew Thieves in the night lurk about come the morning Stealing the sun at the break of the dawn Drinking of sewage a’ flow in the gutters Checking off names as the many are gone Peering ‘round corners, down alleys, in shadows Seeking the favor of all who do grieve Laughing in spite of the torment now growing Licking their lips in the hope you believe Roaming in groups so the followed outnumber Say what you will for the king does not hear Lost in his throne made of mirrors that flatter Shivering, cowering, caving to fear Deaf to the villagers asking for reason Blind to the pillage befalling this land Dumb, well I guess that just goes without saying Nary a care what the people demand Feasting on turkey, potatoes and gravy Raising a glass to the enemy proud Taking a stand against those who support him Locking the front doors while yelling aloud ***“Carry your torches, your pitchforks, your honor It matters not for this evil shall win Even when gone there are echoes of anger Lingering on till they come back again Give them your all, what you’ve poured your heart into Down on your knees, bow to them one and all Step over rock and the piles of rubble This castle will stand even when the walls fall Shout all you like as no change is forthcoming Accept it or flee, you think I give a **** When you are gone many more will replace you Now pass those peas and a slice of that ham”*** So roam the beasties, their teeth ever sharpened Fanning the flames as so many are burned Tearing apart what the people envisioned Silly to think that they somehow had learned Nothing so happy with no ever after Always the same, it will happen again But unlike some other long winded stories Sadly in this I can not say “the end” Watching the rise and the fall of a kingdom Walls once rebuilt again tumble the ground Thankfully I can peruse from a distance Witnessing all without hanging around
0
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 9:25 AM UTC
Nothing so happy with no ever after
. Watching the rise and the fall of a kingdom Walls once rebuilt again tumble the ground Allowing the beasties free reign in the village Bellowing out o’er the wickedest sound Pacing the streets, seeking out bits of garbage Leaving their stains on the innocent few Leering in windows where children are hiding Tender young things and so easy to chew Thieves in the night lurk about come the morning Stealing the sun at the break of the dawn Drinking of sewage a’ flow in the gutters Checking off names as the many are gone Peering ‘round corners, down alleys, in shadows Seeking the favor of all who do grieve Laughing in spite of the torment now growing Licking their lips in the hope you believe Roaming in groups so the followed outnumber Say what you will for the king does not hear Lost in his throne made of mirrors that flatter Shivering, cowering, caving to fear Deaf to the villagers asking for reason Blind to the pillage befalling this land Dumb, well I guess that just goes without saying Nary a care what the people demand Feasting on turkey, potatoes and gravy Raising a glass to the enemy proud Taking a stand against those who support him Locking the front doors while yelling aloud ***“Carry your torches, your pitchforks, your honor It matters not for this evil shall win Even when gone there are echoes of anger Lingering on till they come back again Give them your all, what you’ve poured your heart into Down on your knees, bow to them one and all Step over rock and the piles of rubble This castle will stand even when the walls fall Shout all you like as no change is forthcoming Accept it or flee, you think I give a **** When you are gone many more will replace you Now pass those peas and a slice of that ham”*** So roam the beasties, their teeth ever sharpened Fanning the flames as so many are burned Tearing apart what the people envisioned Silly to think that they somehow had learned Nothing so happy with no ever after Always the same, it will happen again But unlike some other long winded stories Sadly in this I can not say “the end” Watching the rise and the fall of a kingdom Walls once rebuilt again tumble the ground Thankfully I can peruse from a distance Witnessing all without hanging around
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53
Senescence begins And middle age ends The day your descendents Outnumber your friends.
0
4.2k
Crossing The Border
The battle was imminent. The forces were joined. No longer was time standing idle. Outnumber and ****** by 100 to 1, the Spartans stood fervid and vital. The Greeks were united, though the Spartans alone were the ones charged with their protection. At Thermopylae pass, 300 men stood together in imperfect perfection. "Surrender your arms" King Xerxes demanded, "Surrender, and let the Persians betake them." Leonidas replied "Molon Labe!" my foe, "If you want them, then you come and take them."
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Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 8:45 AM UTC
"Molon Labe!"
1– Most people try to avoid eye contact at all costs. 2– Most people either do not say "thank you" or mumble it as if it doesn't mean anything. 3– Most people act out of either self-interest or custom. 4– In most people, the maternal instinct is dead or at least deadened. 5– Most people don’t know how to control their child without using impact to the head or behind. 6– Children outnumber adults, and 20+ year-old children exist. 7– Most people will look for a scapegoat in even a mildly adverse situation, even if one doesn’t exist. 8– Most people have no sense of respect and are therefore not deserving of respect. 9– Most people do not recognize the humanity of others. (See Nos. 1-5, 8) 10– Most people have lost their humanity, also known as their soul.
0
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
Misanthropic Observations from Behind a Walmart Cash Register
Your steadfast love Your steadfast love O Lord never ceases to amaze me My mind is in a state of awe at the vastness of your love The vastness of your love could cover mountains at just a Thought from you If I were to count the amount of love you have for your children it would outnumber the stars and outweigh the grains of sand. Just to think that your love existed before we came to be If all your love was revealed, if all creation declared it if all nature proclaimed it, the oceans would drown in your love for your love is far deeper and your love is wider than the sky, for the sky is but a mere breath in comparison to your love. Therefore, it is more magnificent than a mountain waterfall and furthermore. it never runs out. Yet it is always contained in your hand and freely poured out. Hearts shout for joy with even a touch of your love for your love is warmer than a summer day. Your love is steadfast and is a fortress forever to those who place their trust in you.
0
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 8:08 AM UTC
Your Steadfast Love
a whim I thought riding about how numerous are the title loan places and we are getting where pharmacies outnumber convenience stores I used to see on every corner a bar or a massage parlor a fast food place I am going so hungry I'm going now to the corner to pawn my ambien for some food.
0
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 10:51 PM UTC
pawn shops and pharmacies
Sometime lay your weapons down, To think of peace and no more fear, No longer will the young ones die, To fight for what is so very unclear. The roar and rant of bombs alone, Enough to cause the strongest to cry, The battlefields so littered with youth, Can't stop my tears from flowing down. We start our lives with hope and dreams, Learning to love and have playful things, With our eyes fixed solid on many days, There comes a joy and peace within. But leaders can't learn how to share, They want the power and glory there, But war is nothing so glorious to see, When fears and tears outnumber dreams. I say no longer should people blindly follow, The leaders who seek to destroy the world, Instead we should fight them where they stand, Deny the leaders their quest for destruction. No more should soldiers die so suddenly, We hope no more the mothers will cry, No one but God can take a life we say, Except in times of self preservation. So despots where you slither and slide, Destroy your madness no longer the lie, Push those who seek no peace of mind, Until they are gone from all humankind.
0
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
Blindly Following
"That's it! I'll take it to the scissors myself!" Mangled, wrangled, tangled mess, meandering tendrils coil and cross, clump. Split ends, knots so impossibly tied the eagle scout is left bewildered, sun damage: fried, frizzled, frazzled, frayed. Broken teeth in a gasping comb, choking brushes enveloped in the furling mess, hairspray, fruitless, face it: (Another) Bad Hair Day. "That's it! Today's the day!" The call is made, the appointment scheduled, you sit and wait. X's mark the calendar, the day is nigh, your do's judgement day is at hand. It's time to settle this. The day before, you wake up, absentmindedly getting dressed, drudging through routine, mirror's the last thing you see. Crusty eyes suddenly open wide, as split ends seal and knots unfurl, sun damage heals and combs sing ceaselessly. The day is met with a new life, and the dark days of yore seem like a past life, as this sunny day seems like all there is. You laugh at what now appears to be such trivialities, "Twas a bad hair day! And merely so!" You allow yourself such a shallow deception. Your hand grabs the phone, your fingers make the call, your voice makes the cancellation-- "How could I have been so foolish to resort to such measures?!" You hang up and scoff at yourself, a hearty laugh in jest at such hastiness, tossing and swishing your luscious mane to and fro. You allow it to slip through your fingers, on the cusp of the cure, as the bad hair days truly outnumber the good (you know it to be so). For the next day will come-- You'll greet the mirror with that heart-wrenching sigh, in visible anguish at the chaotic mess that encroaches upon your head. Don't let a good hair day fool you; make the call.
0
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 12:13 AM UTC
Good Hair Day
"That's it! I'll take it to the scissors myself!" Mangled, wrangled, tangled mess, meandering tendrils coil and cross, clump. Split ends, knots so impossibly tied the eagle scout is left bewildered, sun damage: fried, frizzled, frazzled, frayed. Broken teeth in a gasping comb, choking brushes enveloped in the furling mess, hairspray, fruitless, face it: (Another) Bad Hair Day. "That's it! Today's the day!" The call is made, the appointment scheduled, you sit and wait. X's mark the calendar, the day is nigh, your do's judgement day is at hand. It's time to settle this. The day before, you wake up, absentmindedly getting dressed, drudging through routine, mirror's the last thing you see. Crusty eyes suddenly open wide, as split ends seal and knots unfurl, sun damage heals and combs sing ceaselessly. The day is met with a new life, and the dark days of yore seem like a past life, as this sunny day seems like all there is. You laugh at what now appears to be such trivialities, "Twas a bad hair day! And merely so!" You allow yourself such a shallow deception. Your hand grabs the phone, your fingers make the call, your voice makes the cancellation-- "How could I have been so foolish to resort to such measures?!" You hang up and scoff at yourself, a hearty laugh in jest at such hastiness, tossing and swishing your luscious mane to and fro. You allow it to slip through your fingers, on the cusp of the cure, as the bad hair days truly outnumber the good (you know it to be so). For the next day will come-- You'll greet the mirror with that heart-wrenching sigh, in visible anguish at the chaotic mess that encroaches upon your head. Don't let a good hair day fool you; make the call.
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42
The April morning's quiet and so is the November. Wherever people outnumber trees or the dominant cover type is unquiet. Nothing wrong with that. Walt got it right, and Jane Jacobs: the city is an experienced, used beauty. Her toes are long, nails thick and hair thin. Yet her kisses can be sweet; or smell of **** All my life I've tried to point my window toward some narrow wedge of nature. On ****** Ave., over the roof beyond the chimneys to the park where every dog was walked. Could I survive soot and an air shaft now, pigeons and cats, or even a desk in the legislature for my lot in life. How about prison like Etheridge Knight, Nazim Hikmet? I've gotten soft. When he builds that house in the pocket wetland my window now looks out on, the developer will have given me what I need. Amphibian mortality, gravel, fill, oak, ash and maples felled. Good to the last drop is our bitterness, our love.
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Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 11:03 AM UTC
Wetland Song
Let me caress your every sinew I do not care if you've been used for many men know the temple of God but few on holy ground have trod her birthplace that is creation yet they treat you with predation a child that sleeps within your womb soon your bed will be their tomb the years of men will surely pass upon your head I count the grass they outnumber thee ten fold to one and yet their bud is still but young our age is like a moth at night that travels towards the sacred light and is extinguished by the flame Will you remember my name? your favoured son Will you forgive the things I've done? or another knot in the tree become
0
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 4:28 PM UTC
moth-her
This, this song I made you, let it pierce your heart, like the silver moon earrings, the ones I gave you,close your eyes, Let me hold you on high. Let me hold you on high. Like the Kansas fields that outnumber the stars, let's walk on the wheat fields of gold, for even if I can't forgive you, my heart will freely love you. Over and over, over and over, like red Georgia Peaches,  like Florida Beaches, wave after wave, I’ll show you a new song, So we can be one again,  let it all sweep you away.   For the diamonds at dusk, are waiting for us. For like the Chicago sunrise, let the power of it's sunrise, sing you back to life, until you are alive and washed by dreams. Embrace me, hold on, like a California dream, pretend it's just me, like the ring on your finger, let this be, let this be, a time between you and me. For if you harden your heart, lets go back to one, let me be like your silver moon earrings, let me hold you on high. let me hold you on high.
0
Jun 13, 2020
Jun 13, 2020 at 10:06 AM UTC
Chicago Sunrise
They want us marching to the sound of fear, Footsteps dull, thudding in-time with one another, Eyes always fixed on the horizon, Searching for a sun that always lies just too below to see. We cannot go back; Nighttime has already fallen And we march ever forward, chasing sunlight or outrunning darkness. We are never sure which. The stars are no longer the pinpricks that show us a glimpse of Heaven Poking through the blanket of vast, lonely nothingness. They have mutated into the eyes of our enemies, And they surround us and outnumber us a million to one. They want us to move forward, but no matter how far we march, We are followed by more and more eyes, twinkling and menacing. Black silhouettes of trees stand against indigo skies, Swaying so erratically in the wind that we swear they're chasing us. March faster than the trees, faster than the stars' light can travel. March faster than the sound of the war drums can reach our panicking ears. They are here. I can hear the drums. Can you hear the sound of drums?
0
Feb 13, 2017
Feb 13, 2017 at 8:41 AM UTC
City War-Drums
I miss your hugs I miss your eyes I miss your coffee I miss your **** for a car I miss your smile I miss your dinners I miss your song I miss the way you held me at night I miss your company I miss your fun I miss your tattoos I miss your love I miss your silliness I miss your art I miss you reading to me But mostly, I miss your heart But I don't miss the drinking I don't miss the late nights I don't miss the insecurity I don't miss your high I don't miss your low And I don't miss your silence I don't miss your selfish ways I don't miss much of that But I do miss you And the good outnumber the bad Which is why I'm so grateful And still hurting, still sad
0
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 11:49 AM UTC
i don't know.
Boys in a brick labyrinth retired structure two boys coming to age bricks, bricks, bricks back to their first days Hallways like blood veins through their body like gold veins through this cold mine They know them intimately seemingly with no ending Left right left left: a drummers paradiddle stairs up, stairs down, chambers and iron gates vast expanses, great pillars stand guard Sentinels of the brickyard Miles, unfathomable tons of red rock The Courtyard sky so blue and so outstandingly high Summer nights under endless whites the bricks outnumber these lights Hide and seek like you've never seen! never stray too far count to 50 - ready or not There's always a new spot Boy hides and boy seeks to find footsteps echo off of every. single. brick. Imagine his face, the boy with blonde hair as he runs around the corner and finds a girl standing there
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Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
The Brickyard
i wrote a poem and wanted to hear ur thoughts ok here it is I'm scared of dying...like most empathetic humans are, but I have to try extra hard to not have an existential crisis. Or two. Or ten... and my late nights begin with starring at dotted ceilings or purple curtains or clenching them tight because I'm scared of the shadows I might glance at! but sometimes I don't notice that they're open and I'm just blankly starring into an abyss of darkness. It's so hard to be happy when there are monsters under the bed. They tug at my limbs until I cry, they want me dead and I believe their whispers but I'm so scared of dying! Skeletons dance around my head, taunting my flesh to join them in the dirt, even though I repeat, "no, no, no, make it stop!" But the demons don't care... But, there is this one angel, who brings me back to happy, to serenity, and content minded smiles. The angel sings to me about sunshine and reminds me that I'm loved and sometimes I feel guilty because the angel helps me but sometimes the monsters outnumber the angel in my mind but when the angel kisses my lips while caressing my cheek, the skeletons dance away, and I have this goofy grin on my face that is real! And it lasts long enough to lock the monsters out of my room.
0
Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 11:07 PM UTC
the angel of death
I Trust these words will present themselves             Nervous though I may be So many Political,                              Religious,                                             Societal,                           Problems. Let Me Talk.                       It will be eye opening.       Presented in a new way. Because what is prattled on about                                             pretty useless                        in the grand scheme of things. My words will present a Reality.                                                     If only you would listen. My soul is unique,                                cherish-able.              I will help you become what is necessary                                     For You. Whether I know it or not.                  That is my soul. Because the little things are what people care about                   Even if they don't consciously notice.                                They smile.                               Soul at ease. I am a True Treasure                                   that could do more than already managed. Maybe I'm being conceded,                                            Maybe I think more people should keep me around. I want to make a change                More direct than others. So be somewhere with influence          But start with the masses Change comes from  people                                             From those being effected. We outnumber our suppressors                         If only we could rally up. If all goes well,                         become the force that binds together                                     unnoticed, yet Noticed. May 28, 2013
0
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 6:51 PM UTC
Unheard.
I Trust these words will present themselves             Nervous though I may be So many Political,                              Religious,                                             Societal,                           Problems. Let Me Talk.                       It will be eye opening.       Presented in a new way. Because what is prattled on about                                             pretty useless                        in the grand scheme of things. My words will present a Reality.                                                     If only you would listen. My soul is unique,                                cherish-able.              I will help you become what is necessary                                     For You. Whether I know it or not.                  That is my soul. Because the little things are what people care about                   Even if they don't consciously notice.                                They smile.                               Soul at ease. I am a True Treasure                                   that could do more than already managed. Maybe I'm being conceded,                                            Maybe I think more people should keep me around. I want to make a change                More direct than others. So be somewhere with influence          But start with the masses Change comes from  people                                             From those being effected. We outnumber our suppressors                         If only we could rally up. If all goes well,                         become the force that binds together                                     unnoticed, yet Noticed. May 28, 2013
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41
Open the gate and let us enter, Or we’ll wrench the lock and kick down the door. If it doesn’t drop, we’ll sledgehammer through Forcing our way into your homes. And bring up the dead to eat the living – And the dead will outnumber the living. We demand the precious ring عيسى بن مريم Now show us the secret place: We bomb the fiery doors of Hell – Our slain disturbed they rise again. Sleepers awoken from their beds. They sing for the dust gave up it’s dead. The whipping spur of mercenaries greed, Roaming, ****** take souls for the cause – Casually pledge for the Leader’s sake Whole heart and mind was taken – They stroked, caressed and kissed her. Marked men turned into wolves. Now woe to whom you honoured! The fickle god paid you back cruelly. Passing you by as a cheating lover, As if fairy tales can be heard. He guided you from above the sky? It’s fallen in and you pay dearly Enslaved by things of worldly nature, Your vigour was lost, vision unsightly, Now history’s gone, snared – The traps you fell into laid, Manufactured by slick rulers, Your nobles are now lying down. Sandy graves have been prepared, Rows of seven, Jannah, Heaven, For proud in battle we never falter, Whips flashing and blades to the ready Hear AK-47s shooting idly And dare you not squeal: “My brother, do not let me perish!” For this day the vocals of our song Smother the kaffirs weeping Women lamenting sacrificed children, Slapping their faces because The dead will rise and inhale the stench. Are you sleeping paupers of the globe; Rich folk feast yet you are fasting. Who is there to help on these wretched streets? There is no relief. The wound is incurable. Some around the world hear and rejoice, For this evil is transmitted continually. Open the gate and let us enter, Or we’ll wrench the lock and kick down the door, If it doesn’t drop, we sledgehammer through Forcing our way into your homes. And bring up the dead to eat the living – And the dead will outnumber the living.
0
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 7:29 PM UTC
نينوى Open the gate and let us enter
Open the gate and let us enter, Or we’ll wrench the lock and kick down the door. If it doesn’t drop, we’ll sledgehammer through Forcing our way into your homes. And bring up the dead to eat the living – And the dead will outnumber the living. We demand the precious ring عيسى بن مريم Now show us the secret place: We bomb the fiery doors of Hell – Our slain disturbed they rise again. Sleepers awoken from their beds. They sing for the dust gave up it’s dead. The whipping spur of mercenaries greed, Roaming, ****** take souls for the cause – Casually pledge for the Leader’s sake Whole heart and mind was taken – They stroked, caressed and kissed her. Marked men turned into wolves. Now woe to whom you honoured! The fickle god paid you back cruelly. Passing you by as a cheating lover, As if fairy tales can be heard. He guided you from above the sky? It’s fallen in and you pay dearly Enslaved by things of worldly nature, Your vigour was lost, vision unsightly, Now history’s gone, snared – The traps you fell into laid, Manufactured by slick rulers, Your nobles are now lying down. Sandy graves have been prepared, Rows of seven, Jannah, Heaven, For proud in battle we never falter, Whips flashing and blades to the ready Hear AK-47s shooting idly And dare you not squeal: “My brother, do not let me perish!” For this day the vocals of our song Smother the kaffirs weeping Women lamenting sacrificed children, Slapping their faces because The dead will rise and inhale the stench. Are you sleeping paupers of the globe; Rich folk feast yet you are fasting. Who is there to help on these wretched streets? There is no relief. The wound is incurable. Some around the world hear and rejoice, For this evil is transmitted continually. Open the gate and let us enter, Or we’ll wrench the lock and kick down the door, If it doesn’t drop, we sledgehammer through Forcing our way into your homes. And bring up the dead to eat the living – And the dead will outnumber the living.
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54
Not the first, nor the second, not even the third, nor the last- you are further back in line- your turn is often past- no leg to stand on, no claim to plea in town- the people far outnumber you, and the people hold you down- so the world can sedate you, dress you like a clown- the hecklers heckle, the jesters jeckle- they point out every flaw- and count every freckle- red headed step child, collage of human wastes- foul smelling humans, grovel in distaste-
0
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 2:27 PM UTC
Verses of Veracity # 4
I'm a penny on a train rail I'm a balled up fist of rage The number of my sorrows Outnumber all my days I've got lies in my veins They rush faster when I smile And for all the beds I've made They're now coverin' up my eyes I'm like dead people I never got a second chance And everything I've ever held Was ripped right from my hands Love she digs my grave And hate he guards the hole I've got five evil women's names Tattooed 'cross my soul I went down to the river Where muddy water freely flows Drowned my shallow mind Felt my time-bomb heart explode Above a storm-train appeared On cloud-wheels it roared and rolled I watched the colors spill As it thrill-killed the last rainbow Held a dying baby There was somethin' about  his eyes Made me feel some kind of feelin' That cornered me inside Sometimes I cry out at the moonlight Just like a wolf out in the cold Sometimes I pray for daylight Sometimes I pray the night unfolds
0
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 6:44 PM UTC
Branded Blues