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"persay" poems
Ok, I didn't want to do this but there's rules that you must know Etiquette to be followed A line that you must toe Listen very closely now I think you all should try it The things that you will now learn About a protest and a riot Firstly, have a purpose Just random shouting, that's persay If you do not have a topic Then all the new folks go away Throwing bricks at coppers Breaking windows on the street Is this a sign of protest Or is it idiots in heat No signage, and no speakers Just random yelling for a cause This isn't a good protest Just breaking random laws A protest has a purpose It presents a point of view A riot is an ugly thing Which one is right for you MLK could run a protest Make a point and get things done All without a mob forcing A cop to use his gun The rules really are simple Keep the young ones all at home For people in glass houses Should really not throw stones A peaceful resolution From a protest is the goal But a riot is just aimless It puts the city in a hole Victims of a riot Are not the ones who are to blame They're just owners of the business' Who get caught up in the game Next time that you protest Protest rioting instead It will turn out for the better And nobody will end up dead
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Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 11:36 PM UTC
Protest or Riot
wet hair, falling down past her ears looking into the foggy mirror gasping, she looked away ashamed to have seen her face her face was less than ordinary even ugly persay dyed hair of different shades brown green eyes that looked like shame tall and skinny is what they call her but fat and weird is all she sees being a victim changed her mind a victim of **** incestious acts. maybe things would have been different back then if she wasn't of such a young age l.e
0
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:55 AM UTC
foggy mirror
Little robin redbreast what things do you hear? Little robin rebreast, you're so beautiful, But little robin, have you ever felt fear? Robin, have you ever worked your life away for something most unfruitful? Robin, you are so great, But have you ever felt hate? Robin, have you felt persecution? Been threatened excecution? Been judged by your feathers and who you love? Like persay, if you were smitten with a dove? Well little robin redbreast, if you have never been beaten and killed inside for who you are, If you have never had to hide that breast you were born with, Then my little robin, you have never had to hide, from grace you do not dive, From that breast you have never pulled a knife, And you have not lived the common life.
0
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 4:35 PM UTC
Little Robin
Baffled I said...hmm Well not organized, persay I'm spiritual Ya know I take desert walks in Sandals sometimes
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Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
She asked my religion
there is this photo....you see of pretty much nothing...of nowhere....at least.... nowhere i know... the skies are blue, with a cotton balling of innoccuos clouds it seems as tho the weather would be pleasant there. there is a gray-blue-rock covered track, well road, that roughly disects the photo, beginning right in the centre at the forfront and then wending off to the right behind a small hill. the track would be wide enough for a small car or cart but is in the picture devoid off traffic. as is it's smaller, companion walking path, terraced and to the left of the road. cut about six foot below the road persay to the right, a spindly tree of indeterminate species then, stretching off to the photo's edge, green grasses, roughly, cropped low by machine or beast. to the left, once again below, the walking path, a swathe of green and then, an expanse of water, loch, lake, river, i do not know, but it is wide and slow. there are no, watercraft, no birds, to be seen. just water,  greenery,   a spindly tree and the two tracks, leading to god knows where and coming from, behind the lense. but right now, the ambiguity of destination, the lonliness of the landscape are appealing, enthralling, even. there is a dichotomy, in the fecund greeness of the grass, opposed to the, apperent, barenness of the lake. and in the disection of the pastoral scene, by man made road, there is disruption, there is choice. to, cant to one side, or the other. there is choice to, go forth into the unkown. or to, retrace one steps on the road behind. it is a photo, that while not bucolic in nature, is pleasant that is well framed, ....that is the one... you take when you want to finish the roll of film, or these days fill the memory card... why it has me, fascinated at present is ... it is a photo of somewhere... that is not here... it is a photo of somewhere... where, the possibilties are new,untried...not impossible .......where the grass .......is greener...where the grass is greener...where the grass is.....
0
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 4:10 PM UTC
the photo
there is this photo....you see of pretty much nothing...of nowhere....at least.... nowhere i know... the skies are blue, with a cotton balling of innoccuos clouds it seems as tho the weather would be pleasant there. there is a gray-blue-rock covered track, well road, that roughly disects the photo, beginning right in the centre at the forfront and then wending off to the right behind a small hill. the track would be wide enough for a small car or cart but is in the picture devoid off traffic. as is it's smaller, companion walking path, terraced and to the left of the road. cut about six foot below the road persay to the right, a spindly tree of indeterminate species then, stretching off to the photo's edge, green grasses, roughly, cropped low by machine or beast. to the left, once again below, the walking path, a swathe of green and then, an expanse of water, loch, lake, river, i do not know, but it is wide and slow. there are no, watercraft, no birds, to be seen. just water,  greenery,   a spindly tree and the two tracks, leading to god knows where and coming from, behind the lense. but right now, the ambiguity of destination, the lonliness of the landscape are appealing, enthralling, even. there is a dichotomy, in the fecund greeness of the grass, opposed to the, apperent, barenness of the lake. and in the disection of the pastoral scene, by man made road, there is disruption, there is choice. to, cant to one side, or the other. there is choice to, go forth into the unkown. or to, retrace one steps on the road behind. it is a photo, that while not bucolic in nature, is pleasant that is well framed, ....that is the one... you take when you want to finish the roll of film, or these days fill the memory card... why it has me, fascinated at present is ... it is a photo of somewhere... that is not here... it is a photo of somewhere... where, the possibilties are new,untried...not impossible .......where the grass .......is greener...where the grass is greener...where the grass is.....
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71
DINNER, inspired by Yui. It's time for dinner. What shall we have? Brothers and sisters, the fatted calf? Served with lettuce and bread. Tomatoes and fries. Why are we eating the dead? It may not be a fellow being persay. Is a fellow creature nonetheless. As an issue of conscience. I find myself bitten hard. Very hard. Internal debate. External deliberation. I rarely eat meat myself. Sorry to say, I love the smell. Love the taste more. Could never work in an abattoir. My conscience would be ripped to shreds. Poor creatures sadly rendered dead. My heart it bleeds each time I think. Killing to eat is barbaric. This poem is written in the best possible taste. Sadly, so is the meat. (c)Livvi MMXV
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Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC
DINNER
Do not mistake me when I say that I fell, for I did not fall in love, not persay not perchance I fell long ago as a child and I shattered. I shattered and each of those broken pieces reflected a monster. And though through life I have reached for the light the darkness continues to encase me consoling me with the one solitary fact that only a monster can put me back together again. Do not mistake me when I say that I fell, for I did not fall in love, I fell into a sickness. I fell, into the dark.
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Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 12:14 AM UTC
Monster.
Eyes too full with tears to cry. Hunger gnaws away. Chewing at inability to eat. Sick and tired of living. Too cold inside to give up and die. You scream. A tickle of fear. What's next? Not in agony persay. You are crying for freedom. Supported only by prickly pillows. Enough is immense. Too immense to bear. You wait for the reaper. For you, he is not grim. He is awaited with excitement. He is an absolute treasure. A gift. A perfection in relief. He steals your last breath. Your bedside friend. This is the end for someone. No body knows. (C) LIVVI
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Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 7:27 AM UTC
GRIM REAPER?
I used to be a little weaker. You used to tell me all the little things you told no one else. I used to need you more than anyone. You used to, you still, tell most people to go to hell. I used to snort with laughter only when I was around you. You always snorted forever, but they were their realest around me, for it was one of the few times you let your guard down, and oh how I let you down, but it had to go down, and as captain I did not forsake my ship. I always ruined everything, and I still believed that when I ruined you, well maybe not persay ruined, but carved a deep enough hole in both of us so that we'd never forget. You always used to say I was special, and sweetheart and a saint for being your friend, but I caused those cuts and those tears, and you almost tricked my life to its end. Maybe the blame is more on ourselves. And not on each other, but the comradery that once saved us now led more to destruction. I always thought we were forever, opposites and buddies til the end, but we both changed so drastically and grew in such a way that there was no way to go but to an end. You will never be forgotten, and I will always care, but the daggers in my heart burn each time I cannot beware. I never will know if we could have fixed it, if we had just started it openly, spoken the words we feared to say and changed as a pairing. We loved as if in love, a fact I'll never let go, but with time I'll stop missing you and the pain you made me grow. You will never be my friend again, and maybe that's ok, as long as our teenage dreams die together, and their hearts never sway.
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
Who we used to be
I used to be a little weaker. You used to tell me all the little things you told no one else. I used to need you more than anyone. You used to, you still, tell most people to go to hell. I used to snort with laughter only when I was around you. You always snorted forever, but they were their realest around me, for it was one of the few times you let your guard down, and oh how I let you down, but it had to go down, and as captain I did not forsake my ship. I always ruined everything, and I still believed that when I ruined you, well maybe not persay ruined, but carved a deep enough hole in both of us so that we'd never forget. You always used to say I was special, and sweetheart and a saint for being your friend, but I caused those cuts and those tears, and you almost tricked my life to its end. Maybe the blame is more on ourselves. And not on each other, but the comradery that once saved us now led more to destruction. I always thought we were forever, opposites and buddies til the end, but we both changed so drastically and grew in such a way that there was no way to go but to an end. You will never be forgotten, and I will always care, but the daggers in my heart burn each time I cannot beware. I never will know if we could have fixed it, if we had just started it openly, spoken the words we feared to say and changed as a pairing. We loved as if in love, a fact I'll never let go, but with time I'll stop missing you and the pain you made me grow. You will never be my friend again, and maybe that's ok, as long as our teenage dreams die together, and their hearts never sway.
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12
But how can we allow the ones we love and love us, to cause us so Mutch pain and suffering for so long.... I fully understand the concept of truly loving someone to the point you would be willing to try anything to make it work..however if you acctually loved another would you not want to coexist in happiness and harmony as opposed to; deceit, neglect and underappreciation.... take someone in an abusive relationship persay why do they continue to go back, why dose the abuser continue to abuse... or the freind who's all for constructive criticism, but leaves out the constructive part... So what is this "love" that allows us to walk into situations blindfolded.... And allows us, to allow the same people to continue to cause us harm...
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Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 8:40 PM UTC
What is love...