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"patronized" poems
( i ) I lucked out on table 4 last night window seat baseboard heat with intimate passages from Ginsberg in his purest and most evident form Cover-all Carl was draped in his usual garb (turning pages of yesterday's news) animating, culturing, bantering on the fate of the Greek barber (in an accent of which I'm not so sure) His cronies looked on (with a twisted conviction) countering with their own tales of ingovernance and woe *did you know that Panasonic lost 5 billion last quarter?* The evening moved in time lapse... with painted winds, streaming lights and a host of high school girls running cold Maleah passed on her late shift (checking the pile and trough), patronized the boys and called it a night ( ii ) The bald man is back at it again bickering at the till (something about a cold free coffee or 99 cents or the coloured guy behind him who got it hot) a kind Filipino is trying to get it done (at 8 bucks per) losing her cool and shedding a quiet tear Wonder what the Purewals or Haitians or Cossacks would have to say about this grim public reminder, wonder what this sad f*ck will do tonight... without his bus pass or sling sack or broken Turkish stems
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Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 2:37 PM UTC
Fate of the Greek Barber
The Revolution will not be pay-per-view, Streamed online, or listed in the TV Guide, The Revolution will be LIVE ON AIR Rush seating No reservations First to come are first to serve The Revolution will not be monetarily politicized, the Revolution will be patronized Next, On the World Today Network: Revolution This Way Comes The Revolution will not be a mutually exclusive for CBC, BBC, CNN, YouTube, Facebook, SnapChat, or Instagram The Revolution is more than digital trolling, It will be a Counter-Electronic-Magnetic-Pulse Do you have your passport for the Revolution? The Revolution is unauthorized Written for and by all the people The Revolution is radical, hands-on, and requires assembly Batteries are not included and there is no manufacturer’s warantee,   The Revolution will be uncomfortable for those living in leisure For it has been bred to cause the Elite displeasure Revolution 99% Uploaded Press [ENTER] key to initiate collective action ~ NM 10/17/15
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Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 3:17 PM UTC
The Revolution Will Not Be a One-Time-Only YouTube Sensation
Haters rapidly continue Spreading hates and lies While lovers smile warmest hearts kindest words Love can never be patronized Haters will one day succumb to love.......
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Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 2:07 AM UTC
Haters VS Lovers
I hear the thunder meddling its way among the raindrops that permeate through sunlight and realize that the weather is a motif for God's emotional prognosis. God is but a ****** he and I stammer upon the same boat. Our existence makes a pair of helplessly hanging doppelgangers, orbs of confusion that contract whiplash with every turn they make. Two repressed housewives that put all their hopes and dreams in a shit-stained smile. This collision of light and malevolance is but His way of symbolizing my shame-patronized indecision in a way that makes people tear up at the joy of beauty.
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Apr 29, 2010
Apr 29, 2010 at 10:50 AM UTC
Saturation of Contrast
Somedays I think of how I will wait until the skin drops from my bones To tell myself that I am beautiful She will be there at 5 foot 2 the smallest skyscraper ever Gleaming shades of tan and amber Defending the shape of her thighs and the queries of guys. Disallowing herself to be patronized I won't need you anymore I will love myself, in fair or morose health For when your hands shall leave my ******* I won't even feel the ghost of your caress
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May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
My body is the thing that stays
The kids chemically induced Reduced to ego threnody. Amidst chaos he possessed influence. Would disregard coincidence And curse at the omnipotent. Known as lonely pessimist Could laugh at their own ignorance. Pops was drunk. Waved goodbye to any kind of innocence. Patronized Sympathized Irrelevant Sunk below the sediment. If humans could be celibate This death would have ended it Instead of only him.
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Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 10:01 AM UTC
Pro Choice Aborted Fetuses
The perfect woman is beautiful, of course but not too beautiful, ( enough to be objectify-able but not so much as to be threatening) The perfect woman has a voice and a mind ( that she wisely decides to leave behind) The perfect woman should never be heard ( unless she becomes a part of the herd) The perfect woman Is benign and blind ( to everyone's faults except her own, which also, btw, she ought to make known, or god forbid, she'll be harkened a ***** How rude.....) The perfect woman Is coy and shy (changing her demeanor for a girl or a guy) The perfect woman Does nothing wrong (yeah right) (and still doesn't get why she can't belong) The perfect woman Knows her salad forks and plates She encourages, she nourishes She creates, (she waits, she waits , she waits) The perfect woman is an overachiever (but readily labeled to be a deceiver) The perfect woman doesn't age doesn't dream or rebel Oh no, dear no.... none of that outrage The perfect woman can be a nymph and a nun (knows how to not show that she knows what is fun) The perfect woman, is curvy but thin each angle defined each strand refined with a dazzling smile and a glowing skin (no matter how she gets it It's that she gets it, she gets it.) The perfect woman Is strong and composed But when she's patronized She doesn't resist... She carries her grace on her well turned calf and a delicate wrist Till it's proper and unopposed The perfect woman is cruel to her daughter and kind to her son ( as she knows what it means to be a woman even if she forgets that she's also one...) The perfect woman doesn't want to be free you see, it's simple She's come to terms with the very concept That it's her destiny Sigh. Let's say this, let's try.... Here's the gist The perfect woman is either every woman or she doesn't exist.
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Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 9:22 PM UTC
The perfect woman
The perfect woman is beautiful, of course but not too beautiful, ( enough to be objectify-able but not so much as to be threatening) The perfect woman has a voice and a mind ( that she wisely decides to leave behind) The perfect woman should never be heard ( unless she becomes a part of the herd) The perfect woman Is benign and blind ( to everyone's faults except her own, which also, btw, she ought to make known, or god forbid, she'll be harkened a ***** How rude.....) The perfect woman Is coy and shy (changing her demeanor for a girl or a guy) The perfect woman Does nothing wrong (yeah right) (and still doesn't get why she can't belong) The perfect woman Knows her salad forks and plates She encourages, she nourishes She creates, (she waits, she waits , she waits) The perfect woman is an overachiever (but readily labeled to be a deceiver) The perfect woman doesn't age doesn't dream or rebel Oh no, dear no.... none of that outrage The perfect woman can be a nymph and a nun (knows how to not show that she knows what is fun) The perfect woman, is curvy but thin each angle defined each strand refined with a dazzling smile and a glowing skin (no matter how she gets it It's that she gets it, she gets it.) The perfect woman Is strong and composed But when she's patronized She doesn't resist... She carries her grace on her well turned calf and a delicate wrist Till it's proper and unopposed The perfect woman is cruel to her daughter and kind to her son ( as she knows what it means to be a woman even if she forgets that she's also one...) The perfect woman doesn't want to be free you see, it's simple She's come to terms with the very concept That it's her destiny Sigh. Let's say this, let's try.... Here's the gist The perfect woman is either every woman or she doesn't exist.
Continue reading...
80
Sometimes I miss the holy grace of ignorance, Sometimes I miss the comfort that I felt when I read about David and his caves, About his moody eyes and his harp, About his *** addiction and his jealous, musical heart that only a god could love, About the way he loved with abandon, reckless, selfish, taken aback in naivety, balking at those who dared disagreed with his unwavering need to be as he was David made me *** David made me feel closer to God and my mother David told me a story of lust and ****** and protection and angst and a sweet tortured easily patronized self Maybe in all of this, one day this flawed, beautiful man who murdered a giant and sang to lambs Would be me A woman, self possessed, soothing sheep and culling sleep in her victims. Passion dripping from her honey harp. David, thank you for the awakening and for the saturated hedonism that you spoke to in me.
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Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 5:10 PM UTC
David, Hedonist, Myself
Every day we see them, passing by them without care. It comes as quite a shock to some, but trust me, they are there. They come in shapes and sizes just the same as you and me; their colors range from black to white and all the shades between. They're just like us in all respects; they've hopes and dreams and fears. They've been with us through spans of time, from young to old in years. Some of you may notice them but most go by unseen, and lest they let their secret out a person's all they'll be. But should they step beyond the veil they've hung to hide their truth, it's rarely welcomed with embrace, and often with dispute. It's a shame to see how some could treat a human being merely for the way they are, or even how they seem. Patronized for their beliefs, or preferences declared. Victims born of senseless crimes are left to reap despair. Stop the violence. Stop the hate before there's nothing left. Your ignorance gives wake to see them all to pointless death. Intolerance gives wake to war, of which we're on the brink. Love them all for who they are, and not for what you think.
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May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 6:46 PM UTC
People
a bowl of black beans / your mother sitting on the other side of the kitchen / this liquidation of self / you would be something / anything / anyone / if it could make you safe / the black beans taste like nothing now / you aren’t crying but you’re **** near it / your mother makes a honey sweet remark / won’t you stay alive / and / eat your beans then we’ll leave / and you don’t have an answer but you listen / you are pleading with the voices to let you eat the beans and make them taste less like bleach / your mother bleached your hair when you were fourteen and you bleached your skin at sixteen / you drank that same bleach from that same bottle three days after your sixteenth birthday/ but this is a bowl of beans and it tastes like that time / smells like that time / your throat coughing up blood and your body wretching to ***** a bowl of black beans / your mother takes that bowl and washes it out in the sink / you still have that hoarse voice from imagining it tastes like bleach / you still have that ***** wretch instinct because of how much your throat stings / then mother says; you’ll stay with them for some time / as if that makes anything better / a drive into the emptiness of a psychiatric hospital / a place they’d sent you when you were ten because you were so angry and so depressed / you break when the blue tiles turn to ocean and you drown / you break when the red tiles turn to fire and burn your toes / you are hungry again / but you know everything you eat will taste like bleach. you can’t sleep because the bleach is still on your tongue / you think of that bowl of black beans / your mother sitting on the other side of the kitchen / maybe you’d see her smile again / maybe you’d be broken and be able to exist comfortably / don’t you want to survive to see that? you answer / no / i’d rather die than be patronized.
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May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 2:34 PM UTC
a bowl of black beans
a bowl of black beans / your mother sitting on the other side of the kitchen / this liquidation of self / you would be something / anything / anyone / if it could make you safe / the black beans taste like nothing now / you aren’t crying but you’re **** near it / your mother makes a honey sweet remark / won’t you stay alive / and / eat your beans then we’ll leave / and you don’t have an answer but you listen / you are pleading with the voices to let you eat the beans and make them taste less like bleach / your mother bleached your hair when you were fourteen and you bleached your skin at sixteen / you drank that same bleach from that same bottle three days after your sixteenth birthday/ but this is a bowl of beans and it tastes like that time / smells like that time / your throat coughing up blood and your body wretching to ***** a bowl of black beans / your mother takes that bowl and washes it out in the sink / you still have that hoarse voice from imagining it tastes like bleach / you still have that ***** wretch instinct because of how much your throat stings / then mother says; you’ll stay with them for some time / as if that makes anything better / a drive into the emptiness of a psychiatric hospital / a place they’d sent you when you were ten because you were so angry and so depressed / you break when the blue tiles turn to ocean and you drown / you break when the red tiles turn to fire and burn your toes / you are hungry again / but you know everything you eat will taste like bleach. you can’t sleep because the bleach is still on your tongue / you think of that bowl of black beans / your mother sitting on the other side of the kitchen / maybe you’d see her smile again / maybe you’d be broken and be able to exist comfortably / don’t you want to survive to see that? you answer / no / i’d rather die than be patronized.
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4
My cat is alarming the daylight every single rotten day. I wake up chocking from the un flickering dream, Numb and kinda nervous, still watching the leftovers Of characters fighting the path, back into reality. All my nights since my life began revolving around my addictions I patronized them, I begged them, I bribed them, what I did or what I not... Exclusively the ordinary: buying flowers, candies, Slot machines, **** videos, riding on elephants, Cornering the cliffs, eating spiders, smoking *** And beaming at the stars while they were changing music covers Aside me, in slippers, house dresses and chewing cockies outta space, Between a tooth and the next one located at five minutes array. So you cannot call in my nature as a bee. Or not to bee. All the **** that you can do or not in dreams, I did. Results presumptuous. As all dreams are. Vague ends fishing the tale of monster Colombre. He's old and he's lounging in Poseidon's trident, Into the space between the waves of gravity Along with the pearl promised to every human being , As long as they are clapping hands for fairies not dying And children's bed time stories that never lasts enough, At every gasp they take when something murderous Is happening while mothers turning into stone are reading, The horrors of daily news at9 clock whisky . For a first, they enter into the deem reality My imaginary ghostlike friends. I waved them farewell, at last. I don't wanna spend more time buying crickets or entertaining Terpsichore. Now I'm busy writing songs about them, eating space cookies with a little prince and feasting on crickets with Maruska. How did we get this far apart, we used to be so close together How did we get this far apart, I thought this love would last forever.
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Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 4:21 AM UTC
Maruska
My cat is alarming the daylight every single rotten day. I wake up chocking from the un flickering dream, Numb and kinda nervous, still watching the leftovers Of characters fighting the path, back into reality. All my nights since my life began revolving around my addictions I patronized them, I begged them, I bribed them, what I did or what I not... Exclusively the ordinary: buying flowers, candies, Slot machines, **** videos, riding on elephants, Cornering the cliffs, eating spiders, smoking *** And beaming at the stars while they were changing music covers Aside me, in slippers, house dresses and chewing cockies outta space, Between a tooth and the next one located at five minutes array. So you cannot call in my nature as a bee. Or not to bee. All the **** that you can do or not in dreams, I did. Results presumptuous. As all dreams are. Vague ends fishing the tale of monster Colombre. He's old and he's lounging in Poseidon's trident, Into the space between the waves of gravity Along with the pearl promised to every human being , As long as they are clapping hands for fairies not dying And children's bed time stories that never lasts enough, At every gasp they take when something murderous Is happening while mothers turning into stone are reading, The horrors of daily news at9 clock whisky . For a first, they enter into the deem reality My imaginary ghostlike friends. I waved them farewell, at last. I don't wanna spend more time buying crickets or entertaining Terpsichore. Now I'm busy writing songs about them, eating space cookies with a little prince and feasting on crickets with Maruska. How did we get this far apart, we used to be so close together How did we get this far apart, I thought this love would last forever.
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30
We continuously make a fool of ourselves, unconsciously for the enjoyment of others, not lacking the self esteem self belief on the contrary we're encouraging individuals who slide through the ******** getting nicks an nacks ticks an tacks on our hearts an our backs slaps an pats patronized for our looks an our hooks the way dance or we cook we guide you through life like an open book but then treated like an unknown crook, but look I'm not shook  I won't be that crook I slide through ******** getting nicks an nacks ticks and tacks on my heart an my back because I don't lack and I won't look back I'm way stronger then that. D.J.Turner
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Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
Undermind
I am in a desert town Standing on the mountaintop alone Lonely growing up in a too-big house seeing the world from behind the smeared glass of a tour bus while an automated voice drills in objective truths about culture about what the Other's color of skin makes them. Being told to give money because God said so Being told my daddy up in heaven loved me whether he showed up or not and I had to just believe and obey Him. I'd rather turn away from that sunny desert sky, because it burns I'd rather jump off the bus so I could stop feeling so **** sick and forget about what the color of my skin makes me. I'd rather not live to serve a god I don't know and never met and a family who has never met me. To be called a fellow person rather than a tourist or patron. Because I know what it is to be patronized.
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May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 9:58 PM UTC
Patronizing
I want to be unapologetic Yet, I continue to apologize For every difference that they see Increases the need to compromise From what I wear to how I sleep Or what is deemed a healthy size From then on, I understood That I lived only to be described I apologize again for my differences Next time, I will improve my disguise For the sake of your own comfort I will keep putting aside mine I look up to their condescending stares They will never be satisfied I escape into my solitude I am not something for you to define I am tired of advocating for myself Without the support of family ties Finding more hate in my own growth As though I live to be ostracized My attempts to calm my abnormalities In order to sooth those who penalize To make room for all of their expectations To create another profitable merchandise They have taught me to pursue A personality so idealized While they heavily persuade me To carve a body to sexualize Only to be rewarded with a life Where I am only patronized Filled with the inequalities That are completely normalized I retreat into my inner world The place where I fanaticize Of a space where I can breathe With the encouragement to try I am not broken, just discouraged Of those who antagonize Minorities and their differences Who then live demoralized I don't want to be given a role With a life script to memorize Or submit myself to a narrative That can easily be summarized Do not confide me to a label Just so you can stigmatized Those labels are not my name I deserved to be recognized I do not wish to be put on a pedestal As another icon to be advertised I only wish for your understanding Just enough to be humanized
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Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 11:40 PM UTC
Defiant
I want to be unapologetic Yet, I continue to apologize For every difference that they see Increases the need to compromise From what I wear to how I sleep Or what is deemed a healthy size From then on, I understood That I lived only to be described I apologize again for my differences Next time, I will improve my disguise For the sake of your own comfort I will keep putting aside mine I look up to their condescending stares They will never be satisfied I escape into my solitude I am not something for you to define I am tired of advocating for myself Without the support of family ties Finding more hate in my own growth As though I live to be ostracized My attempts to calm my abnormalities In order to sooth those who penalize To make room for all of their expectations To create another profitable merchandise They have taught me to pursue A personality so idealized While they heavily persuade me To carve a body to sexualize Only to be rewarded with a life Where I am only patronized Filled with the inequalities That are completely normalized I retreat into my inner world The place where I fanaticize Of a space where I can breathe With the encouragement to try I am not broken, just discouraged Of those who antagonize Minorities and their differences Who then live demoralized I don't want to be given a role With a life script to memorize Or submit myself to a narrative That can easily be summarized Do not confide me to a label Just so you can stigmatized Those labels are not my name I deserved to be recognized I do not wish to be put on a pedestal As another icon to be advertised I only wish for your understanding Just enough to be humanized
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52
Ranting Screaming Cussing in my head because my anger cannot be stopped I am not a mindless sheep, Not a child to be patronized and pitied Don't laugh at me I don't need your sympathies If you care so much then why did you leave
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC
Anger issues
Standing alone, surrounded Outside a gas lamp - a flickering essence of mystery A path. Where it leads. You choose not to know. Rather walking inside A step taken, nothing more Inside - trapped, tied, tangled, knotted Names you do not know Faces glance You change your name Masquerade your personality with falsehoods Shimmy in your dress Chandeliers quiver to the gowns Unkind fellows breathe to close Gracing yourself Caged with rules Grappling with tradition Patronized, condescending, and patted Played with, passed, and mopped A chess piece, a card Your house of cards collapse The glitter is gleaming in shades of red Brown, green, and blue Hiding from our shadows Dancing in the glitter Parading around the attraction of light But masked our identity... With strands of gold Gold plastered, masked, and molded on our face Contemporary gold, Will not ease the pain The shadows envelopes your heartbeat Stretching close to the ambilical chord to the light Snap! Every dream fades All falls into deep darkness Painful, deep shadows Your face grusomely scalped Scarred, scorched, with fear The truth, rotted, fermented All that rests is your masquerade gown, but now the moths got to it Alone, when you are always surrounded
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Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 3:33 AM UTC
Held within, without
In a world where society says you need to be thin, beautiful, and smart, funny yet sophisticated. In a work where you are to be yourself. Except you can't do that. Oh sorry, no, you can't do that either. In a world where you need to be unique but can't stand out of the crowd or you get patronized. "How are we supposed to go on in our lives being all those contradicting things?" you may ask yourself. Well, I have a solution. It is quite simple actually. You do you and don't listen to what society has to say. You be the perfect person you are in this beautiful world. You let NO ONE tell you who you should be, because you are amazing. You don't have to be skinny and tall. You don't need to be charismatic and sarcastic all at the same time. You don't need to worry about what people are going to say about you. If you want to wear that sweater covered in cats you ******* rock that sweater covered in cats! You could be a plump Hobbit and you would still be perfect because you are you, and you are amazing. Don't let anybody ever tell you otherwise.
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Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
Society says
i will not be dragged down to size i will not be blindly patronized i will, for no reason, compromise i am myself, in that, there's pride
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Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 10:41 AM UTC
a short dissertation against patronization
It will be a life of loss isn't it my lover And maybe an eternity before I find what I'm looking for Before I can tell you about the ones who broke my heart Before I can laugh all this pain away, Im going to get lost and take another pill just so I can Feel a little bit normal once in my life Or be loved by somebody for once Then get drunk on happiness I'm going to keep Crying about why people say I never try And feeling left out and patronized And you know what's funny? I can't tell you about any of this Even when you ask what's wrong with me Cuz you won't understand You're not flawed and strange like me I'm going to be lonely With my soul in a locker And I'm going to have to blame it on Myself Isn't that right?
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Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 9:01 AM UTC
Empty
Do you have any idea how it feels To have someone leave you in order to "protect you"? And they always think they're the first one ever to do it too Like there isn't a parade of cowards marching away With excuses falling from their lips When really They're just scared that they could hurt someone so deeply. I've got news for you all The ones who leave The ones who left For my own good. You didn't. You don't. You left for yours. You leave For yours. You know as well as I do that my pain at being abandoned Is a thousand times what any cruelty could have been If only you stuck around to dish it out. You just didn't Want To watch. I have to watch. Every time. I have to watch it decimate the parts of me I've spent time nurturing. I have to watch and know that you think You saved me from you. So let me tell you what being left for your own good feels like. It feels like being used. It feels like being patronized. It feels like being disposable. It feels like Being condemned. I'm brave enough to face the horrors inside of you. Are you?
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Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 1:33 AM UTC
I Have No Desire To Be Beautiful If I Am Too Beautiful To Touch
what is it with you and hurting me? is it the way i hyperventilate that makes you want me? is it the way i lay in bed and sob and sob and sob that makes you want me? is it the way i force sleeping aids down my throat that makes you want me? what is it with you anyways?
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Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 2:39 PM UTC
patronized
an internalization of pattern, a process possessed and mirrored. A frequency, the same sound as is found in a dying fire and leaf-fall over a patronized footpath, a hum, and a crackling. A seemingly random happening guided by a template of ritual elimination. Narrowing down the stream of all things to fit inside a mind. This is who I am. A recurring dream and the feeling of waking from it to find yourself where you were always. .covered. Only so many masks to fit a face. In so much paint, only so much color, and in all the ways you can put it to a page, this is who I am
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Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 5:55 PM UTC
who I am
Palletizing people into segments and Authenticating the segments with the gods they follow Three billion gods with rules infinite Expecting peace of mind be found! The leaders of the weakened population Misleading with those hollow promises Ultimately giving hope wrapped empty boxes Thinking being a part of democracy..! Upliftments! What they are rendering Picking up from village mud Dumping into city corporate slums What a happy patronized crowd! Conserving the little fairy of there's From Fox eyed bad world they say Saving her by taking her freedom And married into unknowns!                 Well what to expect!
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Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 1:48 PM UTC
Cryptism
God, this hurts. It's terrible and heart-wrenching. To believe the moments we had weren't worth anything. Or were they? I have trouble discerning. I wanted love that didn't make me feel patronized, used, discarded, and broken. Would it make me happy? Would it make me feel more alive to be away from you? Would I find someone that deserves me? How can I say this respectfully? Without putting down our moments together? I hate you. I hate you so much to the point that I want you out of my life. To the point I can say "You can die!" ad I wouldn't care. You made me bare, all my emotions and time, while you sat in silence. This is when I CAN'T remember. These were the moments I CAN'T surrender. Therefore, I smile when I look at you but feel like throwing up in a corner.
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Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 4:25 PM UTC
Prequel