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"pentagon" poems
i've moved past my belief in the Christian trinity... for me... the meditation stands on the pivot of the following translation the hexagon, start of david - which translates as the Holy Ghost - which denotes a congregation... the pentagon? of the befitting analogy to the five senses... the "son of man" - or simply... the myopia of man having to excavate the sixth sense using telescopes, microscopes, the like... and, finally? on a hand of five extensions, there are four... the square...   Y                    H             ⠁⠑                     read clockwise                                       like English traffic H                     W            on a roundabout. which? denotes the father...     if the Hebrews "think" they can hide their vowels?    the Latin answer is...    to interpolate Braille into their language...        and Emperor Nero would have appreciated it... whether with, or without the Byzantine propaganda machinery of the nevus testamentum... and it wasn't a propagandist piece?     how much longer did the eastern Empire, outlive the Western empire, when the onslaught by the Ottoman's reached                   Constantinople?! the Greek were craving a cultural revival!         they believed the Romans to have origins in Troy! they plaid the weakest cultural card of Judaism, revamping it into Christianity... hell... that's what i believe... and i'm not about to meet a Jehovah's Witness propagandist, or some aged Pakistani citing the Quran on a park bench...   or some Scientologist on Oxford St. with his wacky machine...   or some pseudo Hare Krishna monk with a book about some guru, pushing it like marijuana...    to change my mind on what i'm digesting! plus?   ⠽                   ⠓               Æ                  ( read anti-clockwise)                                             ⠓                    ⠺ fits in perfectly into the Adam and Eve narrative - as with all mythology - given the extent of time...     nuance, metaphor... abbreviation...                    ars poetica!
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Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 8:32 PM UTC
Y⠁HW⠑H
i've moved past my belief in the Christian trinity... for me... the meditation stands on the pivot of the following translation the hexagon, start of david - which translates as the Holy Ghost - which denotes a congregation... the pentagon? of the befitting analogy to the five senses... the "son of man" - or simply... the myopia of man having to excavate the sixth sense using telescopes, microscopes, the like... and, finally? on a hand of five extensions, there are four... the square...   Y                    H             ⠁⠑                     read clockwise                                       like English traffic H                     W            on a roundabout. which? denotes the father...     if the Hebrews "think" they can hide their vowels?    the Latin answer is...    to interpolate Braille into their language...        and Emperor Nero would have appreciated it... whether with, or without the Byzantine propaganda machinery of the nevus testamentum... and it wasn't a propagandist piece?     how much longer did the eastern Empire, outlive the Western empire, when the onslaught by the Ottoman's reached                   Constantinople?! the Greek were craving a cultural revival!         they believed the Romans to have origins in Troy! they plaid the weakest cultural card of Judaism, revamping it into Christianity... hell... that's what i believe... and i'm not about to meet a Jehovah's Witness propagandist, or some aged Pakistani citing the Quran on a park bench...   or some Scientologist on Oxford St. with his wacky machine...   or some pseudo Hare Krishna monk with a book about some guru, pushing it like marijuana...    to change my mind on what i'm digesting! plus?   ⠽                   ⠓               Æ                  ( read anti-clockwise)                                             ⠓                    ⠺ fits in perfectly into the Adam and Eve narrative - as with all mythology - given the extent of time...     nuance, metaphor... abbreviation...                    ars poetica!
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81
I need to change the circles I'm in Because I fell into the trapezoid Of trying to fit a square peg in a round hole Making people believe I was a square When I was really a rectangle You just had to look at me from the right angles The shape of things now Is me looking at you from the wrong angles You're pretty hot 90° When you turn away from me your hotness doubles 180° I think my Pompeii worm could survive the temperatures But if you were to turn back around No creature could survive 360° The paradox of the parabola in my pants Will never be solved It's not your math problem We're just two points on this rotating sphere Where time is a straight line And our's is a segment I wish I understood the formula So I could predict the outcome But there are too many variables Leaving my head spinning in circles And myself running in circles Meant to be avoided Because within those circles are triangular trials Where two points create a perfect line And a third point ruins that As points are added to the population Lines only get larger Like the welfare line Mammoth shapes grow wider and more complex Like the Pentagon Lines become more easily crossed Angles more easily tangled And my freezing point becomes my boiling point While I wish for a world more two-dimensional Because once I consider depth I realize I could never measure up to my ruler
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Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 12:35 AM UTC
Circles
Pencil - ****** - ***** - Penalize -Pentagram - Pentagon - Pentagonal - Penitentiary -Pensive - Peninsula - P....... ....Plagued. What is it to be plagued? Haunted? Seiged by an inescapable force? Haulted? IMMOVABLE. ability to move, yet achieving no valuable distance. A struggle writhing within ones self. Pen -Pent- Pent up- P... ....Please, no more.... ....more miles high..... Stakes, In the ground..... Great stakes..... High, So very high. Unreachable. Unattainable. Pen-Pensive-Pacing- to pace back and forth down a narrow stretch of newly carpeted hallway. A door. Adoring..... Adorable.... Sweet. Innocence left? May be none left.
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Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 10:30 AM UTC
"P"
MEMORIAL DAY May 26th, 2014 **************************************************** To all of you that have ever worn "The Uniform", the uniform of safety and security, the uniform of pride the uniform of freedom, the uniform of liberty THE UNIFORM OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA ********** THANK YOU Thank you to all, in every branch, in every time From: The American Revolution (most of us have roots to our founders) The Civil War (North or South) World War I World War II Korea Vietnam Cambodia Laos Panama Nicaragua The Falkland Islands Somalia Yugoslavia Bosnia Kuwait Iraq Afghanistan Pakistan The Persian Gulf ** areas and battlefields such as (not all locations are listed with no dis-respect) Lexington/Concord, Gettysburg, Pearl Harbor, Midway Island, Normandy, D-Day, Berlin, Tripoli, Iwo Jima, Okinawa, The 38th Parallel, The Bay of Tonkin, Me Lei, Hanoi, The Hanoi Hilton, Saigon, The ** Chi Minh Trail, Baghdad, Kabul, Ground Zero Manhattan, Pentagon 9/11, a field near Shanksville PA. and many many more, you are all heroes and role models, not for a nation, for the world, not for American Patriots, for all humanity, not only on this Memorial Day, for all days and all days to come. You are appreciated! because freedom has high costs and you pay the price for all of us. ****************************** Godspeed, safety and peace where ever you are. Sincerely, Warner C. Baxter Jr. American Patriot Scottsdale, AZ. U.S.A. God bless America
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC
MAY 26TH 2014
a pentagon study determined that putin is an anti-social control freak kind of vermin (really? this required a genius kind of keenness? really?) darpa should stick to cool things like the internet and invisibility cloaks and drones armed with pork parts a rodina rodent in the grain needs spankin' with more than just sanctions cuz knocking out their incisors doesn't make them any nicer - a rat with no teeth is still a rat.
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
putin syndrome
To Ezra Pound These are the names of the companies that have made money from this war nineteenhundredsixtyeight Annodomini fourthousand eighty Hebraic These are the Corporations who have profited by merchan- dising skinburning phosphorous or shells fragmented to thousands of fleshpiercing needles and here listed money millions gained by each combine for manufacture and here are gains numbered, index'd swelling a decade, set in order, here named the Fathers in office in these industries, tele- phones directing finance, names of directors, makers of fates, and the names of the stockholders of these destined Aggregates, and here are the names of their ambassadors to the Capital, representatives to legislature, those who sit drinking in hotel lobbies to persuade, and separate listed, those who drop Amphetamine with military, gossip, argue, and persuade suggesting policy naming language proposing strategy, this done for fee as ambassadors to Pentagon, consul- tants to military, paid by their industry: and these are the names of the generals & captains mili- tary, who know thus work for war goods manufactur- ers; and above these, listed, the names of the banks, combines, investment trusts that control these industries: and these are the names of the newspapers owned by these banks and these are the names of the airstations owned by these combines; and these are the numbers of thousands of citizens em- ployed by these businesses named; and the beginning of this accounting is 1958 and the end 1968, that static be contained in orderly mind, coherent and definite, and the first form of this litany begun first day December 1967 furthers this poem of these States. December 1, 1967
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War Profit Litany
To Ezra Pound These are the names of the companies that have made money from this war nineteenhundredsixtyeight Annodomini fourthousand eighty Hebraic These are the Corporations who have profited by merchan- dising skinburning phosphorous or shells fragmented to thousands of fleshpiercing needles and here listed money millions gained by each combine for manufacture and here are gains numbered, index'd swelling a decade, set in order, here named the Fathers in office in these industries, tele- phones directing finance, names of directors, makers of fates, and the names of the stockholders of these destined Aggregates, and here are the names of their ambassadors to the Capital, representatives to legislature, those who sit drinking in hotel lobbies to persuade, and separate listed, those who drop Amphetamine with military, gossip, argue, and persuade suggesting policy naming language proposing strategy, this done for fee as ambassadors to Pentagon, consul- tants to military, paid by their industry: and these are the names of the generals & captains mili- tary, who know thus work for war goods manufactur- ers; and above these, listed, the names of the banks, combines, investment trusts that control these industries: and these are the names of the newspapers owned by these banks and these are the names of the airstations owned by these combines; and these are the numbers of thousands of citizens em- ployed by these businesses named; and the beginning of this accounting is 1958 and the end 1968, that static be contained in orderly mind, coherent and definite, and the first form of this litany begun first day December 1967 furthers this poem of these States. December 1, 1967
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41
I find myself sidewalking everything So Silverstein was lucky to know where it ends Will I ever be privileged to discover such a thing? Too many trivial needs distract from its pursuit But how am I to know? When it's time, I only cared for my toys The way the sheeple only care for their handouts Do tell; if the Pentagon lays off 800,000 people Will we know they're telling the truth about unemployment When their words flow between mouthfuls Of stolen fruit and gold At the table of the elite So tell me, who is John Galt? I sit at a table with a mind that knows how to think for himself And can't help but think this is the purest form of elitism: Until at last the time has come For the imminent end of all serfdom Brought by the brawn of the brainy How are we to keep our heads when the others ***** us over Take our heads clean off to see the contents Only the strongest can withstand the attempts to skew ideas Upon who's minds the lying flies Forced off by intellect The simple last defender of God and liberty Big Brother would have us not discuss such things At times, I feel that we are the last in the world So, tell me- if this paper is the last in the world, have we written something significant? I've no doubt the world will see The mistakes of society Time then, will bring forth a new renaissance, with us as creators And they, as the readers of some disconnected thoughts Written at a time when the end of a page was a good stopping point for poetry, but not for the limit of government infringement on personal freedom.
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Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 12:38 AM UTC
The Constitution of the Island
I find myself sidewalking everything So Silverstein was lucky to know where it ends Will I ever be privileged to discover such a thing? Too many trivial needs distract from its pursuit But how am I to know? When it's time, I only cared for my toys The way the sheeple only care for their handouts Do tell; if the Pentagon lays off 800,000 people Will we know they're telling the truth about unemployment When their words flow between mouthfuls Of stolen fruit and gold At the table of the elite So tell me, who is John Galt? I sit at a table with a mind that knows how to think for himself And can't help but think this is the purest form of elitism: Until at last the time has come For the imminent end of all serfdom Brought by the brawn of the brainy How are we to keep our heads when the others ***** us over Take our heads clean off to see the contents Only the strongest can withstand the attempts to skew ideas Upon who's minds the lying flies Forced off by intellect The simple last defender of God and liberty Big Brother would have us not discuss such things At times, I feel that we are the last in the world So, tell me- if this paper is the last in the world, have we written something significant? I've no doubt the world will see The mistakes of society Time then, will bring forth a new renaissance, with us as creators And they, as the readers of some disconnected thoughts Written at a time when the end of a page was a good stopping point for poetry, but not for the limit of government infringement on personal freedom.
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32
MEMORIAL DAY June 1, 2015 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To all of you that have ever worn "THE UNIFORM" The Uniform of safety and security, The Uniform of pride and liberty THE UNIFORM OF FREEDOM THE UNIFORM OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ THANK YOU Thank you to all, in every branch, in every time From: 1776 - 2015 The American Revolution The Civil War (North or South) World War I World War II Korea Vietnam Cambodia Laos Panama Nicaragua The Falkland Islands Somalia Yugoslavia Bosnia Kuwait Iraq Afghanistan Pakistan The Persian Gulf ~~ War Zones and Battlefields, such as: Lexington/Concord, Gettysburg, Pearl Harbor, Midway Island, Normandy, D-Day, Berlin, Tripoli, Iwo Jima, Okinawa, The 38th Parallel, The Bay of Tonkin, Me Lei, Hanoi, The Hanoi Hilton, Saigon, The ** Chi Minh Trail, Baghdad, Kabul, Ground Zero Manhattan, Pentagon 9/11, a field near Shanksville PA. and many many more, (not all locations are listed with no dis-respect) You are all Heroes and Role Models, not for a Nation, for A Peaceful Planet not for Americans, for all Humanity, not only today this Memorial Day, for all days and all days to come. You are appreciated! because freedom has high costs and you pay the price for all of us. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Godspeed, safety and peace where ever you are. Sincerely, Warner C. Baxter Jr. American Patriot Scottsdale, AZ. U.S.A. GOD BLESS AMERICA Semper Vigilo
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 2:26 AM UTC
MEMORIAL DAY
the sea is cold, but the sea contains the hottest blood of all.              killer transients.              people and whales.              he needed to see his son smile              & he did.              a blue-trucked boy, hometown hero.              he loved to fight              & he fought to love.              died in afghanistan for the pentagon boys.                           blame them. bomb them.              submerge your vestigial limbs in days and home              & simple mammalian living.              wage and pray.              little hours.              little sweet nothings.              people and whales fall older.              think. write. ferment.              the good deep.              the hottest blood of all.
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Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 6:56 AM UTC
cetacean
**Collaboration with Arcassin B SS** There's someone On Capitol Hill There amongst the ***** and swill Got your number On a bill They've SOLD OUT For a thrill Every vice Martinis chilled You are just View to a **** Someone up there Privatized Someone up there Just said "Aye" Someone up there Told some lies Someone up there Has some eyes Someone up there In the skies Someone up there Wants to pry Someone up there Makes you cry Someone up there Makes you die.. AB While the toetag still Keeps you alive, All the unfairness Becomes deprived, Exposed and identified, What's the Pentagon up to, They about to have New nation full of immigrants, What are you gonna do, Plotting the demise, Subliminals in your eyes, You wonder how the people Broke off pride, Someone up there Demoralized Someone up there In disguise Someone up there Serve without pay Someone up there Love one's die Someone up there Don't act surprised Someone up there No time to be shy Someone up there Don't want this life.
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May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 1:42 AM UTC
Private Ayes
Kids playing, guys chatting, cars running. There she goes. An infinite scroll, it could last forever. Who knows where the data heads? CIA? China? Pentagon? Your mom? Flood of notifications on how pretty you are, When not on the phone.
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Jun 12, 2019
Jun 12, 2019 at 6:49 AM UTC
Pretty Girls spend twice the time on their iPhones
Tuesdays remind me of third grade and so does astrology. Our tables formed a pentagon, it was me and the beautifuls: come the good-looking maid called Destinee with two e’s, not one and not even a y, she had two e’s. I modeled myself after her cerulean lenses eye sockets that were pulled back by dinosaur bones and gave wrinkles to her forehead prematurely, six speckles like ostrich eggs gathering under a stratum of mud. She was dark-headed, she wasn’t fair. She had sorcery in her collar, fairies in her pulse. Her mother had the name of a Chihuahua or evil witch: I secretly cursed her for having a daughter so lovely who I could not peck on Tuesday field-trips to a menagerie just because she was as feminine as me. That is how I learned about destiny and Destinee, so pretty pretty.
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Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 7:16 PM UTC
unfair
ᚠ Φ F Θ ᚦ no explanations exist within a geometry outside the circle, only architecture, sole, yet the sole geometry of architecture is an encircling, a lifting, and had i wrote my poetry in the comfort of rising beyond Marx is socio-political schematic i would, but i rather talk to scaffolders than to poets, i'd rip my heart through enough thin veil to prove it so that i shared an entombing of lips wholly bodied with one! i rather! care for this ******* Parisian princess in your divorce as best you can... i kept a cat for seven years before my neighbour decided it was time to ***** affection to an animal neither tilling for ably feeding to instead choose his daughter as my wife: i rejected feeling no compass of conversation... the cat died, i went into the graveyard and dug a gravestone out and buried my cat in the moonlight: don't ever come across me and my pet! you killed half the intelligence that was me! **** you! humanity engaging with humanity it plagiarises as itself an ownership to suit puppet strings like it might tailoring, POLAND ****** EUROPE! POLAND ****** EUROPE! POST COLONIAL NATIONS SEEK NEW ******* TO CRAFT THE LOST COTTON BUDS INTO GRANULE CEMENT SET! POLAND ****** EUROPE! POLAND ****** EUROPE! POLAND ****** EUROPE! POLAND ****** EUROPE! MAMA RUSSIA! PAPA PRUSSIA! HOSANNA! HOSANNA! LAUREL LEAFS AS I SAT ON THEM! THE CROWN OF KING TU-154... ROMANIA DONKEY DON QUIXOTE! WHOOP WHOOP! WHOOP WHOOP GREK IZLAND CORFU! then the postman comes with my jealousy as within reach of hope to attain old age... (snigger)... i hope i don't... i want million dollar baby's truth to wake me.
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May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 8:04 PM UTC
square / imploded pentagon
ᚠ Φ F Θ ᚦ no explanations exist within a geometry outside the circle, only architecture, sole, yet the sole geometry of architecture is an encircling, a lifting, and had i wrote my poetry in the comfort of rising beyond Marx is socio-political schematic i would, but i rather talk to scaffolders than to poets, i'd rip my heart through enough thin veil to prove it so that i shared an entombing of lips wholly bodied with one! i rather! care for this ******* Parisian princess in your divorce as best you can... i kept a cat for seven years before my neighbour decided it was time to ***** affection to an animal neither tilling for ably feeding to instead choose his daughter as my wife: i rejected feeling no compass of conversation... the cat died, i went into the graveyard and dug a gravestone out and buried my cat in the moonlight: don't ever come across me and my pet! you killed half the intelligence that was me! **** you! humanity engaging with humanity it plagiarises as itself an ownership to suit puppet strings like it might tailoring, POLAND ****** EUROPE! POLAND ****** EUROPE! POST COLONIAL NATIONS SEEK NEW ******* TO CRAFT THE LOST COTTON BUDS INTO GRANULE CEMENT SET! POLAND ****** EUROPE! POLAND ****** EUROPE! POLAND ****** EUROPE! POLAND ****** EUROPE! MAMA RUSSIA! PAPA PRUSSIA! HOSANNA! HOSANNA! LAUREL LEAFS AS I SAT ON THEM! THE CROWN OF KING TU-154... ROMANIA DONKEY DON QUIXOTE! WHOOP WHOOP! WHOOP WHOOP GREK IZLAND CORFU! then the postman comes with my jealousy as within reach of hope to attain old age... (snigger)... i hope i don't... i want million dollar baby's truth to wake me.
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45
You love hearing. You love seeing. You love smelling. You love feeling. You even love the taste of life, Bold statements arise: pentagon built pyramids; hexagram built light… I’m speaking subtlety’s; the space between five and six, Like that star David from CSI; Eleven mirror, twelve depicts, If they’re in prison, it was because of common sense, If you’re successful, universe says you were dependent on the sixth… We’ll acknowledge foundations as Gravity, Although they reflect; Time as tragedy, Too low to connect; Space to one; a division within; I’m thinking maybe this trinity could project a web, Gravity is the outcome of manifestations existing; Creativity transmuting energy that’s coexisting in a space in which polarities consisting, Space is the frame that’s assisting; A geometrical web full of light that infinitely splits simultaneously while it’s energy is shifting, Time is the perception of distance between manifestations, it’s the same as predicting, It doesn’t exist until it exists, That’s a matter of apathetic wishing, “He’s an oxymoron…” We fear the unusual, But we can’t possibly be normal, That’s actually abnormal, When we conform to others idealism, our realities become harmful, Earlier I advocated that space is full, If you’re pushing space in your own gravity, displacement will leave your mind full; time-poor, Love yourself, because you love your five senses, No need for senseless for it is why we sense-less before more, That doesn’t mean closed door, It means your time is poor; How can you be of wealth if you’re missing idealism, In such a situation you’re obligated to war; Be informed, be young, belong life, Disconform, keep ***** on your side, Obliterate, reiterate, polarize, You must know thyself before you know the sky.
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Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 7:36 PM UTC
5665
You love hearing. You love seeing. You love smelling. You love feeling. You even love the taste of life, Bold statements arise: pentagon built pyramids; hexagram built light… I’m speaking subtlety’s; the space between five and six, Like that star David from CSI; Eleven mirror, twelve depicts, If they’re in prison, it was because of common sense, If you’re successful, universe says you were dependent on the sixth… We’ll acknowledge foundations as Gravity, Although they reflect; Time as tragedy, Too low to connect; Space to one; a division within; I’m thinking maybe this trinity could project a web, Gravity is the outcome of manifestations existing; Creativity transmuting energy that’s coexisting in a space in which polarities consisting, Space is the frame that’s assisting; A geometrical web full of light that infinitely splits simultaneously while it’s energy is shifting, Time is the perception of distance between manifestations, it’s the same as predicting, It doesn’t exist until it exists, That’s a matter of apathetic wishing, “He’s an oxymoron…” We fear the unusual, But we can’t possibly be normal, That’s actually abnormal, When we conform to others idealism, our realities become harmful, Earlier I advocated that space is full, If you’re pushing space in your own gravity, displacement will leave your mind full; time-poor, Love yourself, because you love your five senses, No need for senseless for it is why we sense-less before more, That doesn’t mean closed door, It means your time is poor; How can you be of wealth if you’re missing idealism, In such a situation you’re obligated to war; Be informed, be young, belong life, Disconform, keep ***** on your side, Obliterate, reiterate, polarize, You must know thyself before you know the sky.
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40
We were all together once. A wall of friends, ready to help each other to slay and protect. The Fab Five/The Passionate Pentagon... The Dark Side. What happened to us? What we once were, we are no more, and we look back at the Dark Side like the same way we reminisce old memories- but we are not old memories. We will always be the Fab Five, The Dark Side. We are tied together by bonds unseen but there. But yet we are all reaching out, stretching our flimsy arms to everyone around us people who never were a part of us, longing to be held and heard- to not be forgotten. There is no need for that. I promise you, you are not forgotten, and never will be. So maybe...maybe let's try again, eh? Let's get the old gang together remember we exist to each other, take away all the walls built up between the bonds, all the anguish squished in between us, and let's Reunite.
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Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 6:13 PM UTC
Falling Apart
Shoulda gone sooner, Mighta helped, he said, it's going to all come down, ground up. All the concrete and asphalt and plastic, maybe even leave a little of that won't hurt, could help build randomness back in the the path of least resistance But no bigger than the biggest pieces left at Jerusalem, fill all the holes. that was a stutter, that double the there, 3 lines up, I stutter when I write, not as bad as some But I pretty much tamed spelchek when I renamed her. She likes being thought of as Spelchek, my servant, as opposed to evil Spellchick who bewitched by keys, made my tittalk sound plumb dumb. So Spelchek respects some of my stutters as honest ensamples of thinking wait. What am I saying Selah Like the psalmist, right? The the thing is oddly broken lines are part of the meandering mode of meaning being found under rocks, aha Sisyphus, we're in your book!, Too cool! Happy whatever, Jah, you, too. Back to Cousin Kenny, who went to inspect the city, seeking some good he might do. He laughed when he got back, 'said maybe we can find them guys that let on they was able to levitate the Pentagon, back then, you know, they was steeped in lies, and they loved to tell 'em, loved to lie, prospero, ever **** one prosperous liars. But, now, their old age, they coulda stopped believin' some big lies by now. Who would know? Any way, the cities, as built, must be un built, NOT DESTROYED, those are the good hard labour of good people, doing the best with what they had, we take apart mistakes, we destroy lies. Angelic beings, aliens, without papers, if you would give us half a chance we could show you what a good idea possessed human can do… Trust me, don' laugh Close your eyes How would this world look if it were designed for life, and that, more abundantly. An idea, not a dogma. Life, have it… how? Lest, now, now is living, and we can do it better if we find a reason to hope, which was why cousin kenny went to the city, in the first place.
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Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 5:28 PM UTC
cousin kenny went to the city
Shoulda gone sooner, Mighta helped, he said, it's going to all come down, ground up. All the concrete and asphalt and plastic, maybe even leave a little of that won't hurt, could help build randomness back in the the path of least resistance But no bigger than the biggest pieces left at Jerusalem, fill all the holes. that was a stutter, that double the there, 3 lines up, I stutter when I write, not as bad as some But I pretty much tamed spelchek when I renamed her. She likes being thought of as Spelchek, my servant, as opposed to evil Spellchick who bewitched by keys, made my tittalk sound plumb dumb. So Spelchek respects some of my stutters as honest ensamples of thinking wait. What am I saying Selah Like the psalmist, right? The the thing is oddly broken lines are part of the meandering mode of meaning being found under rocks, aha Sisyphus, we're in your book!, Too cool! Happy whatever, Jah, you, too. Back to Cousin Kenny, who went to inspect the city, seeking some good he might do. He laughed when he got back, 'said maybe we can find them guys that let on they was able to levitate the Pentagon, back then, you know, they was steeped in lies, and they loved to tell 'em, loved to lie, prospero, ever **** one prosperous liars. But, now, their old age, they coulda stopped believin' some big lies by now. Who would know? Any way, the cities, as built, must be un built, NOT DESTROYED, those are the good hard labour of good people, doing the best with what they had, we take apart mistakes, we destroy lies. Angelic beings, aliens, without papers, if you would give us half a chance we could show you what a good idea possessed human can do… Trust me, don' laugh Close your eyes How would this world look if it were designed for life, and that, more abundantly. An idea, not a dogma. Life, have it… how? Lest, now, now is living, and we can do it better if we find a reason to hope, which was why cousin kenny went to the city, in the first place.
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58
To be loved or to be killed answers by Mario Antonio, A beach signature novel, very guilty and very pleasure Soaked in with characters of mafia and every targeted ****** Shh!——He is whispering to me “Keep your friends close but your enemies closer” Who is under control, who cares about the battel Whispering Shh! Some say the world has balanced ball Godfather is a silent observer. With guilty but pleasure He demands no power but friendship loyalty.
Struck fear in everyone he has known. 
Shh! These are Five Families he plays with, Still figures of glory. Shh! check the ground
The mud tied up dragon flight throats,
Stepping stones from Europe boot soles.
 The Cloud, clouds. Under defence of greed. The gilt and secure domes of Russia melt and float off
He commands dragonflies behind the clouds with circled country borders. Across countries and spaces. Like the drone, drone like shooting machine.
The invisible drone has got so far, with 400 feet height! The Pentagon calling Trafalgar Square
Russia, Ukraine game theory with Tianmen Square Back and forth of tactical and strategic manoeuvring, with every character shining in little part he must play “Your enemies always get strong on what you leave behind” The drone, The Cloud, clouds drone He is a silent observer, the Godfather.
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May 9, 2023
May 9, 2023 at 3:32 AM UTC
Godfather
beats banging the bolts of your brains your mind slumped back with thoughts of genocidal terrorist gangsters polluting your countries veins, rocking lines like no way but did bush rock the planes, and **** did we really give al-Qaeda all that money 6.9 billion **** yeah that sounds pretty funny, but back in the day they were the backed boys in blue fighting off the the red corner for their freedom to be renewed, but that wasn't enough for them reunion of peace lost with the greed of the beast and the hate for the west and the hate for different beliefs, capitalism s bad but not bad enough for lives to be releived or taken, **** bugs me but im not shooting the lead at a different population. and im not conforming to 911 being binladen cause the videos shown give me the impression those attacks were a little more expensive than the planes on the rota, the truth covered up like ill put it under the sofa or they wont notice just tuck it behind the toaster, its not for common knowledge to be a pile of **** out off cnn's rosta does anyone remember Mcintyre whos stated on paper that he beleives the pentagon was hit by something different than whats printed on the usual reporters notepad soo whos the joker? the world needs answers now before this conspiracy is just another late night channel on the tv, or the page on the internet that no one sees xcept the fat man nursing a ***** and a bag of nachos with a little too much additional flavour bread cheese and cereal its all over his bed, forgotten how to live soo hes browsin instead, this mans a lost cause you stay tight to whats in your head and im not guna turn around and say that my rhymes keep your brain feeling alive ive used that space to save you time so you can see the things i see the way the world is lookin at me and this **** keeps my dreams infant and my body just another delinquent, reeling around in this filtered hypocricy with the love and humour on hold till this chapter unfolds
0
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 12:59 PM UTC
conspiracy for my theory?
beats banging the bolts of your brains your mind slumped back with thoughts of genocidal terrorist gangsters polluting your countries veins, rocking lines like no way but did bush rock the planes, and **** did we really give al-Qaeda all that money 6.9 billion **** yeah that sounds pretty funny, but back in the day they were the backed boys in blue fighting off the the red corner for their freedom to be renewed, but that wasn't enough for them reunion of peace lost with the greed of the beast and the hate for the west and the hate for different beliefs, capitalism s bad but not bad enough for lives to be releived or taken, **** bugs me but im not shooting the lead at a different population. and im not conforming to 911 being binladen cause the videos shown give me the impression those attacks were a little more expensive than the planes on the rota, the truth covered up like ill put it under the sofa or they wont notice just tuck it behind the toaster, its not for common knowledge to be a pile of **** out off cnn's rosta does anyone remember Mcintyre whos stated on paper that he beleives the pentagon was hit by something different than whats printed on the usual reporters notepad soo whos the joker? the world needs answers now before this conspiracy is just another late night channel on the tv, or the page on the internet that no one sees xcept the fat man nursing a ***** and a bag of nachos with a little too much additional flavour bread cheese and cereal its all over his bed, forgotten how to live soo hes browsin instead, this mans a lost cause you stay tight to whats in your head and im not guna turn around and say that my rhymes keep your brain feeling alive ive used that space to save you time so you can see the things i see the way the world is lookin at me and this **** keeps my dreams infant and my body just another delinquent, reeling around in this filtered hypocricy with the love and humour on hold till this chapter unfolds
Continue reading...
7
I pray for thousands of innocents Who died because of 19 sinners I wished for the wandering souls in earth To be accepted on the side of our Creator Bless the souls who died in Pentagon Bless the souls who died in World Trade Center Bless the souls of the hijacked aircraft's passengers So they will rejoice, in the Land Of Promised For the ones that lost their family, friends or their siblings I want you guys to think positive and keep smiling Because of that incident They could enjoy their new lifes in Heaven The place where pain never exist And known as it's Holy The place where our heart will never resist To enjoy the eternal life and live happily Rest In Peace And you all will be missed
0
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 8:53 PM UTC
Poetry For The Events 17 Years Ago
When guilt burst forth, at Menden's door We could not speak, we did not know The toll the rage of men might seek Through witless priests and burning snow That Sword was forged in Elwen's fyre With magic signs embossed in vain The power of steam in crooked lines To cleave the brows in villainous twain Thus Emnoch came to shield the world A hero's hero of countless girth The ***** of shame that numbered zero A blade arrived to state his worth This dismal feast of brutal love Will never sate a horse's tune Senescence and honor entwined in fate He ever swells that liquid boon Asunder sliced was Denzhen Yeep Just as Vile Ben wast slain The Witches Five broke on the Pile A magic Pentagon of pain But do not braise the glance of morn' We cannot love what has not hair Embrace the stench of Emnoch's glove His tale is there for you to share
0
Feb 4, 2021
Feb 4, 2021 at 6:55 PM UTC
The Saga of Rememorydorna: The Blades of Emnoch
Dear Circle, I’ve met a triangle, I’ve chatted with a pentagon. Seen some squares, And some rectangles. But, you’re still not here. I’ve always wanted one shape, Just one shape. These other squares, Rectangles and triangles They still have sides. But, me, I have no points, No angles. No edges. With room for you in my center, Where are you, my circle? I’m ready to hold you And forget all the shapes with sides. I’ll keep looking but, Oh, if I find you, circle Will you be mine?
0
Jan 7, 2011
Jan 7, 2011 at 12:58 PM UTC
Dear Circle
Cease trying to force we the people to conform, It's all lies and will not become an accepted norm. Awake from such heavy stupor and taste what created our bitter sky, Selfishness answers the corrupt mind when questioned why, Drill a deep well of greed and disperse humanity as though it were waste, Mother nature weeps acid while wondering the shoreline submerged in paste, Reap what you sew so they say, Foretold by grim the dumbfounded fool will pay, A prisoner to the power of ones own pentagon house, Attempt to flee and end as a cat's mouse. This so called free land, Is nothing but sweat and tears in black hands.
0
Aug 21, 2010
Aug 21, 2010 at 6:47 PM UTC
Constitution of Greed
He broadcasts a misprint offender. He is advised to question plutocracy. He is deformed at birth and then again later. He goes to war with a violin case as a a weapon. He grabs all the paintings off the wall at once. He is in an art museum. He is in a grassroots rebellion against the free market society. He is crashing a boat into the Pentagon. He is chewing on a metal bottle cap and his teeth are all breaking off. He is not allowed into the back seat of his own car. He is watching a play from very far. He yawns in a diner. He lies in his bed. Everyone overwhelms a giant. Everyone recovers the disappointing vehicle throughout the famine.
0
Feb 3, 2012
Feb 3, 2012 at 10:15 AM UTC
Giant
He broadcasts a misprint offender. He is advised to question plutocracy. He is deformed at birth and then again later. He goes to war with a violin case as a a weapon. He grabs all the paintings off the wall at once. He is in an art museum. He is in a grassroots rebellion against the free market society. He is crashing a boat into the Pentagon. He is chewing on a metal bottle cap and his teeth are all breaking off. He is not allowed into the back seat of his own car. He is watching a play from very far. He yawns in a diner. He lies in his bed. Everyone overwhelms a giant. Everyone recovers the disappointing vehicle throughout the famine.
0
Feb 3, 2012
Feb 3, 2012 at 10:15 AM UTC
Giant