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"plundered" poems
it's 3:23 in the morning and I'm awake because my great great grandchildren won't let me sleep my great great grandchildren ask me in dreams what did you do while the planet was plundered? what did you do when the earth was unraveling? surely you did something when the seasons started failing? as the mammals, reptiles, birds were all dying? did you fill the streets with protest when democracy was stolen? what did you do once you knew? I'm riding home on the Colma train I've got the voice of the milky way in my dreams I have teams of scientists feeding me data daily and pleading I immediately turn it into poetry I want just this consciousness reached by people in range of secret frequencies contained in my speech I am the desirous earth equidistant to the underworld and the flesh of the stars I am everything already lost the moment the universe turns transparent and all the light shoots through the cosmos I use words to instigate silence I'm a hieroglyphic stairway in a buried Mayan city suddenly exposed by a hurricane a satellite circling earth finding dinosaur bones in the Gobi desert I am telescopes that see back in time I am the precession of the equinoxes, the magnetism of the spiraling sea I'm riding home on the Colma train with the voice of the milky way in my dreams I am myths where violets blossom from blood like dying and rising gods I'm the boundary of time soul encountering soul and tongues of fire it's 3:23 in the morning and I can't sleep because my great great grandchildren ask me in dreams what did you do while the earth was unraveling? I want just this consciousness reached by people in range of secret frequencies contained in my speech ©2003
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Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
Hieroglyphic Stairway by Drew Dellinger
it's 3:23 in the morning and I'm awake because my great great grandchildren won't let me sleep my great great grandchildren ask me in dreams what did you do while the planet was plundered? what did you do when the earth was unraveling? surely you did something when the seasons started failing? as the mammals, reptiles, birds were all dying? did you fill the streets with protest when democracy was stolen? what did you do once you knew? I'm riding home on the Colma train I've got the voice of the milky way in my dreams I have teams of scientists feeding me data daily and pleading I immediately turn it into poetry I want just this consciousness reached by people in range of secret frequencies contained in my speech I am the desirous earth equidistant to the underworld and the flesh of the stars I am everything already lost the moment the universe turns transparent and all the light shoots through the cosmos I use words to instigate silence I'm a hieroglyphic stairway in a buried Mayan city suddenly exposed by a hurricane a satellite circling earth finding dinosaur bones in the Gobi desert I am telescopes that see back in time I am the precession of the equinoxes, the magnetism of the spiraling sea I'm riding home on the Colma train with the voice of the milky way in my dreams I am myths where violets blossom from blood like dying and rising gods I'm the boundary of time soul encountering soul and tongues of fire it's 3:23 in the morning and I can't sleep because my great great grandchildren ask me in dreams what did you do while the earth was unraveling? I want just this consciousness reached by people in range of secret frequencies contained in my speech ©2003
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58
White folks: pack your bags and go. Our nut-brown world is quite offended. Make your shame-faced exit NOW, And leave your mansions unattended. Wait—before you pass the doors, It's time to settle ethnic scores. No more ragtime Minstrel Show. Our Moorish Science took it down. Black lives matter. White, less so— Now move your pale face out of town . . . But first, shell out for racial shame Caucasian losers of the game. Cultural pride is ours alone: Kings and Egyptian queens we were. The glories of our race, well-known Bedazzle in a darkened blur (Clear to Africa's descendants— Puzzling to you white dependents). Blackness lent your world its light, Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers. Scandinavia grew bright Under our beneficent powers. Negroes gave your blondes their beauty; Helped those Norsemen shake their ***** The Seven Wonders of the world: We built them all. No vain conjecture Dims our banner, black, unfurled, Above eternal architecture. Arts and knowledge gained from us Are what we threaten to discuss. We invented math and science Which you robbed from Timbuktu. Swarthy wisdom's brave defiance Caused Old Europe to renew. All our treasure that you plundered Testifies: your days are numbered. Classics of our Greeks you stole: Philosophy was never yours. Shame upon your racist soul; For Bach and Mozart both were Moors. Misappropriated treasures call for ruthless hard-line measures. Latino fate falls next—but, where ? Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ? Orientals everywhere: Choose your side and join the fight. Blackness rising! Late the hour; Heed your call to fight the power. Crackers need to check your race— Stop rooting for that ****** clown. Rednecks all up in our face; Racist throwbacks got us down. But as your statues bite the dust Your light goes dark (you know it must). So move on out, oppressor, thief. Long have you held our nation back. In some white galaxy seek relief— But here the light itself is black. Stars are racist. So is the sun. Now let God's great black will be done.
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Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
Betting on the Races
White folks: pack your bags and go. Our nut-brown world is quite offended. Make your shame-faced exit NOW, And leave your mansions unattended. Wait—before you pass the doors, It's time to settle ethnic scores. No more ragtime Minstrel Show. Our Moorish Science took it down. Black lives matter. White, less so— Now move your pale face out of town . . . But first, shell out for racial shame Caucasian losers of the game. Cultural pride is ours alone: Kings and Egyptian queens we were. The glories of our race, well-known Bedazzle in a darkened blur (Clear to Africa's descendants— Puzzling to you white dependents). Blackness lent your world its light, Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers. Scandinavia grew bright Under our beneficent powers. Negroes gave your blondes their beauty; Helped those Norsemen shake their ***** The Seven Wonders of the world: We built them all. No vain conjecture Dims our banner, black, unfurled, Above eternal architecture. Arts and knowledge gained from us Are what we threaten to discuss. We invented math and science Which you robbed from Timbuktu. Swarthy wisdom's brave defiance Caused Old Europe to renew. All our treasure that you plundered Testifies: your days are numbered. Classics of our Greeks you stole: Philosophy was never yours. Shame upon your racist soul; For Bach and Mozart both were Moors. Misappropriated treasures call for ruthless hard-line measures. Latino fate falls next—but, where ? Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ? Orientals everywhere: Choose your side and join the fight. Blackness rising! Late the hour; Heed your call to fight the power. Crackers need to check your race— Stop rooting for that ****** clown. Rednecks all up in our face; Racist throwbacks got us down. But as your statues bite the dust Your light goes dark (you know it must). So move on out, oppressor, thief. Long have you held our nation back. In some white galaxy seek relief— But here the light itself is black. Stars are racist. So is the sun. Now let God's great black will be done.
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60
Young people can you feel the suffering? roca wear, gucci, apple, facebook, mcdonalds, apple bee's, honda, lamborghini, harvard, Community College american express, pnc bank, walmart Wage Slaves, ceos, owners, lenders, renters, indebtedness Structural dehumanization, systematic mechanization Exploited labor feeding blood to your hungering consumerism Young people you are embracing MISANTHROPY! Embracing the hate of your own humanity! Why the hypocrisy? Wealthy children, poor children Trying for enlightenment through education Parents garnering wealth through the oppression of their victims Parents garnering debt through the oppression from economic inequality Still you invest and promote the only legitimization of your being: CAPITALIST UTILITY Capitalism engineering unrelenting misanthropy Vicious economic system discarding humanity Perfecting the concentration and accumulation of wealth With the expansion of human alienation and murderous competition Prostituting your body to labor exploitation and consumerism Where does your wealth end up? multinational companies? financial corporations? military arms contractors? Loyalty lies in their pockets, backstabbing everyday tactics Killing you through the exploitation of your body Because they know the birth of another proletariat or bourgeoisie can replace you   Entities, not human, how much have they bought you for so that you cannot see!!! Beware of these misanthropic missionaries granting your body power and agency When your body can no longer be plundered for profit you will taste tears and blood Young people will you deliver your forefathers and fathers From worshiping capitalist misanthropy?
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Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
Your Faith in Capitalist Misanthropy
Young people can you feel the suffering? roca wear, gucci, apple, facebook, mcdonalds, apple bee's, honda, lamborghini, harvard, Community College american express, pnc bank, walmart Wage Slaves, ceos, owners, lenders, renters, indebtedness Structural dehumanization, systematic mechanization Exploited labor feeding blood to your hungering consumerism Young people you are embracing MISANTHROPY! Embracing the hate of your own humanity! Why the hypocrisy? Wealthy children, poor children Trying for enlightenment through education Parents garnering wealth through the oppression of their victims Parents garnering debt through the oppression from economic inequality Still you invest and promote the only legitimization of your being: CAPITALIST UTILITY Capitalism engineering unrelenting misanthropy Vicious economic system discarding humanity Perfecting the concentration and accumulation of wealth With the expansion of human alienation and murderous competition Prostituting your body to labor exploitation and consumerism Where does your wealth end up? multinational companies? financial corporations? military arms contractors? Loyalty lies in their pockets, backstabbing everyday tactics Killing you through the exploitation of your body Because they know the birth of another proletariat or bourgeoisie can replace you   Entities, not human, how much have they bought you for so that you cannot see!!! Beware of these misanthropic missionaries granting your body power and agency When your body can no longer be plundered for profit you will taste tears and blood Young people will you deliver your forefathers and fathers From worshiping capitalist misanthropy?
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29
I am but a driftwood All but forgotten from whence I came A place where once had a name A time when all was good I am but a driftwood Set myself adrift Currents they lift Bearing their latent gifts I move as they shift I'd protest if only I could I am but a driftwood Over a body so vast Over wrecks with broken masts Spiteful winds howl with angered gusts An eternity that would last Eroding my integrity like it should I am but a driftwood Know not of where I'm headed Render me hopeful but will me jaded Pillaged and plundered Looted and raided Swallowed and spat out, ocean's food I am but a driftwood Lost and forlorn out at sea Awaiting land that would receive me Take me in like I'm meant to be Give me your sand, bury me completely Keep me in the safety of your hood I am but a driftwood I remember the place from whence I came A faded dream with a name Still drifting away from all that's good
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Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 2:25 PM UTC
Driftwood
I will re-visit The modern picts, The viking border people Comparing ******* And slapping bellies While giving dheagh shlainte. They've plundered their last village; It's been a while since they protected the walls While sleep sets in. They raid the pubs, Raise a glass shield, Weild a shot glass Singing shlainte, The dragon ships have sailed.
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May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 9:55 AM UTC
Border Vikings of Scotland
No country’s history makes us proud. It is mere exploitation and colonization. the poor were suppressed and oppressed. The rich reveled in utmost luxury And the weak lived in extreme penury. The kings were fond of eulogy And the poets excelled themselves in their elegy. In the countries like India, the money was looted the temples were plundered, and the system was blundered And her progress was greatly hindered Slowly the kings and kingdoms vanished the so called democracies and socialism flourished the bureaucracy and plutocracy replaced autocracy Corruption and criminality maintained their status quo After Independence, a new class emerged in India. They became the rulers in the name of democracy. There have been un-imaginable scandals Money reached the Swiss bank like pearls in the ocean India is a poor country but the Indians are rich
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Mar 10, 2011
Mar 10, 2011 at 3:59 AM UTC
BUREAUCRACY VERSUS AUTOCRACY
Guarding what it truly loves A dragon treasures gold Jewels and plundered ***** Deep down inside it's hold A dragon guards it's one true love Fire breathing, blooded ....cold My woman has a dragon Here's your warning...you've been told Real or just imagined My woman has a dragon Deep inside, How she feels Real or just imagined My woman has a dragon You may laugh But, I know that it's real Guarding what it truly loves A dragon treasures gold Jewels and plundered ***** Deep down inside it's hold A dragon guards it's one true love Fire breathing, blooded ....cold My woman has a dragon Here's your warning...you've been told Her heart burns like a fire set by dragons breath no less it's an inferno like no other i have felt it...i confess Don't ever cross that dragon and go to where it lies I have seen the dragon's fire Coming deep from in her eyes It's a mine field of surprises An act of balance every day Do you tempt what it is guarding or do you let the dragon stay ? Real or just imagined Your woman has a dragon too I can tell, because I've seen it And her dragon's guarding you
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Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 3:11 PM UTC
Dragon
Draped in boundless pride she strolled along the streets, the town's flamboyant prima ballerina. Still little did the debaucher know her. Defenceless she laid as he spanked and clouted her, Her vehement howling and wailing couldn't stop the yanking of clothes. Motionless, emotionless she laid while he plundered and mutilated her body. Vandalised by an uninvited visitor, Incapable of moving her body the ravishing ballerina reclined. The scars he made was not on her body but deep in her soul. That gloomy night whistled away for the sun to flare its first ray. '18 year old violently molested and deceased'. Hence the prima ballerina became a mere newspaper headline.
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Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 12:50 AM UTC
Prima ballerina
Take a peak inside that stormy dome, see if you can't find yourself a semi-peaceful slice of mind that you can call your own Tie a leash around its neck, try to walk that creature home, Show it to your mom and pops “look guys, look what I found roaming around my teenage mind? This is the friend I was telling you about I know he’s kind of ugly, shaggy and unkempt. His looks are mildly incestual But I love him all the same Do you mind if I sit him right there next to you? Maybe the three of you could exchange some words He knows the same ones I do Even those nasty slurs I don’t exactly understand him No one else does either Everyone knows him, But few seem to remember Don’t go looking for him on your own He tends to get real shy, sometimes reclusive He’ll dive down deep into his subconscious home, Forged of past memories, images and emotions The ones that I dare not touch like the middle of the ocean I wait by the shoreline, drifting in and out of consciousness Anxiously awaiting, the lumber that he’s plundered from my stormy subconscious. Then again, maybe this time will be just like the rest. Maybe this time all I get, Is that hollowed out feeling in my chest Suddenly, He surfaces for air And there he is Speaking to me of sufferings and joys My very own melodrama and vanity He even touches on insecurity. Things I never knew I tried so hard to hide How did he find it all? In that underwater den, Where all these things reside. “If you don’t come home with me, all this beauty may be forever lost” I told him. So that’s why I brought him home I call him creativity Could you watch him, I need to be alone?
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Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 11:40 PM UTC
Creativity
Take a peak inside that stormy dome, see if you can't find yourself a semi-peaceful slice of mind that you can call your own Tie a leash around its neck, try to walk that creature home, Show it to your mom and pops “look guys, look what I found roaming around my teenage mind? This is the friend I was telling you about I know he’s kind of ugly, shaggy and unkempt. His looks are mildly incestual But I love him all the same Do you mind if I sit him right there next to you? Maybe the three of you could exchange some words He knows the same ones I do Even those nasty slurs I don’t exactly understand him No one else does either Everyone knows him, But few seem to remember Don’t go looking for him on your own He tends to get real shy, sometimes reclusive He’ll dive down deep into his subconscious home, Forged of past memories, images and emotions The ones that I dare not touch like the middle of the ocean I wait by the shoreline, drifting in and out of consciousness Anxiously awaiting, the lumber that he’s plundered from my stormy subconscious. Then again, maybe this time will be just like the rest. Maybe this time all I get, Is that hollowed out feeling in my chest Suddenly, He surfaces for air And there he is Speaking to me of sufferings and joys My very own melodrama and vanity He even touches on insecurity. Things I never knew I tried so hard to hide How did he find it all? In that underwater den, Where all these things reside. “If you don’t come home with me, all this beauty may be forever lost” I told him. So that’s why I brought him home I call him creativity Could you watch him, I need to be alone?
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48
Since I have no other way And am in utmost need, Painter girl, I filch one of the eight lambs You have made plump with Green jackfruit leaves and Thin gruel with paddy bran. I will take it to the goat market And sell it in a jiffy. I assure you I will not sell it To any butcher- The lamb you made chubby With sweet sweet words And much much petting And nice lilting croons, Mixing and mixing Greens with browns. Don’t be sad, painter girl. I hear you come running Searching for your lamb and Cry out “O my dearest one Who went grazing in the green fields,” As the sun in your canvas Sets in the sea and The saffron blends with the dusk. And, see your tears mingle With the black that you wanted To adorn the brow of The naughtiest of them. Painter girl, It’s all because I have no other go And it’s of utmost need. I could have broken into the Two-storeyedhouse you sketched And stolen the ornaments in Secret lockers that even You are unaware of. Or, I could have Palmed the golden girdle Of the beautiful ***** princess Whose portrait you made, The one with a nose stud. Or, drugged her with my kisses And plundered the harem. Or else, I could have Entered the snake shrine Guarded by the dark serpents That you often drew And fled the country with The precious jewel. Or, I could have shot down The birds that you drew And sold them grilled. I could have axed down the Mahagony trees you nurtured And sold them as timber. I could have blinded your Kanhaiah And made him a beggar To become rich from the alms he earned. I could have enslavened his Gopis And handed them over To the red light streets. Painter girl, It’s not for anything of this sort. I take just one of your eight lambs. Sell it for a good price And fulfill my need. Now, perchance, If a new tenant comes to rent My brain where nothing resides And if they pay me a fat advance, Painter girl, Surely will I buy back your lamb. And tether it in your painting. Don’t you dare say then Don’t you say then That you have forgotten it. Don’t you say then You have exhausted your stock of Green jackfruit leaves. (Trans from Malayalam by Ra Sh)
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Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 10:04 AM UTC
Painter girl, You with the lambs
Since I have no other way And am in utmost need, Painter girl, I filch one of the eight lambs You have made plump with Green jackfruit leaves and Thin gruel with paddy bran. I will take it to the goat market And sell it in a jiffy. I assure you I will not sell it To any butcher- The lamb you made chubby With sweet sweet words And much much petting And nice lilting croons, Mixing and mixing Greens with browns. Don’t be sad, painter girl. I hear you come running Searching for your lamb and Cry out “O my dearest one Who went grazing in the green fields,” As the sun in your canvas Sets in the sea and The saffron blends with the dusk. And, see your tears mingle With the black that you wanted To adorn the brow of The naughtiest of them. Painter girl, It’s all because I have no other go And it’s of utmost need. I could have broken into the Two-storeyedhouse you sketched And stolen the ornaments in Secret lockers that even You are unaware of. Or, I could have Palmed the golden girdle Of the beautiful ***** princess Whose portrait you made, The one with a nose stud. Or, drugged her with my kisses And plundered the harem. Or else, I could have Entered the snake shrine Guarded by the dark serpents That you often drew And fled the country with The precious jewel. Or, I could have shot down The birds that you drew And sold them grilled. I could have axed down the Mahagony trees you nurtured And sold them as timber. I could have blinded your Kanhaiah And made him a beggar To become rich from the alms he earned. I could have enslavened his Gopis And handed them over To the red light streets. Painter girl, It’s not for anything of this sort. I take just one of your eight lambs. Sell it for a good price And fulfill my need. Now, perchance, If a new tenant comes to rent My brain where nothing resides And if they pay me a fat advance, Painter girl, Surely will I buy back your lamb. And tether it in your painting. Don’t you dare say then Don’t you say then That you have forgotten it. Don’t you say then You have exhausted your stock of Green jackfruit leaves. (Trans from Malayalam by Ra Sh)
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82
We plyed our oars as we sweeped across the surf, our ships skimming the water with ease, we seized towns, plundered fishing ports, sacked cities, we worshipped the great Odin, in his hall in Asgard, All for what? We did this, so we might go to Valhalla, the last revelry.
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 10:25 PM UTC
We fought
When the music's over When the music's over, yeah When the music's over Turn out the lights Turn out the lights Turn out the lights, yeah When the music's over When the music's over When the music's over Turn out the lights Turn out the lights Turn out the lights For the music is your special friend Dance on fire as it intends Music is your only friend Until the end Until the end Until the end Cancel my subscription to the Resurrection Send my credentials to the House of Detention I got some friends inside The face in the mirror won't stop The girl in the window won't drop A feast of friends "Alive!" she cried Waitin' for me Outside! Before I sink Into the big sleep I want to hear I want to hear The scream of the butterfly Come back, baby Back into my arm We're gettin' tired of hangin' around Waitin' around with our heads to the ground I hear a very gentle sound Very near yet very far Very soft, yeah, very clear Come today, come today What have they done to the earth? What have they done to our fair sister? Ravaged and plundered and ripped her and bit her Stuck her with knives in the side of the dawn And tied her with fences and dragged her down I hear a very gentle sound With your ear down to the ground We want the world and we want it... We want the world and we want it... Now Now? Now! Persian night, babe See the light, babe Save us! Jesus! Save us! So when the music's over When the music's over, yeah When the music's over Turn out the lights Turn out the lights Turn out the lights Well the music is your special friend Dance on fire as it intends Music is your only friend Until the end Until the end Until the end!
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Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
When the music's over ( Jim morrison) lyrics
When the music's over When the music's over, yeah When the music's over Turn out the lights Turn out the lights Turn out the lights, yeah When the music's over When the music's over When the music's over Turn out the lights Turn out the lights Turn out the lights For the music is your special friend Dance on fire as it intends Music is your only friend Until the end Until the end Until the end Cancel my subscription to the Resurrection Send my credentials to the House of Detention I got some friends inside The face in the mirror won't stop The girl in the window won't drop A feast of friends "Alive!" she cried Waitin' for me Outside! Before I sink Into the big sleep I want to hear I want to hear The scream of the butterfly Come back, baby Back into my arm We're gettin' tired of hangin' around Waitin' around with our heads to the ground I hear a very gentle sound Very near yet very far Very soft, yeah, very clear Come today, come today What have they done to the earth? What have they done to our fair sister? Ravaged and plundered and ripped her and bit her Stuck her with knives in the side of the dawn And tied her with fences and dragged her down I hear a very gentle sound With your ear down to the ground We want the world and we want it... We want the world and we want it... Now Now? Now! Persian night, babe See the light, babe Save us! Jesus! Save us! So when the music's over When the music's over, yeah When the music's over Turn out the lights Turn out the lights Turn out the lights Well the music is your special friend Dance on fire as it intends Music is your only friend Until the end Until the end Until the end!
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69
*song shadows soul and mirrors will we ever see clearer sweet life oh the fragrance the righteous mind un-sees the danger so many soldiers so many women are all of our fathers really little children move swiftly into the windy recesses the mind regresses all the time damp and wet the owl cries so long tomorrow farewell goodbye dunk your head in liquid splendor i am tender as the snow pouring down from heaven’s fiefdom morning's hunger is dissipated by moonlight kisses and salty lovers salves of calendula upon our skin swim in juicy wonder listen and dance with thunder the fireflies swim through burning skies making arcs and triumphant cries what a silly blunder all the noise and all the cover hiding your heart in violet garments streams of satin in your slumber stroke the liberated arrow weave the gardenia’s shadow streams of consciousness and beauty looking into eyes of human strategy human shadows start to suffocate us instruct the timber plundered strumming humid arias looms of butter start to melt svelte and spelt slews of wealth heaven's belt is loosely tied striated like the mind grinding hind legs selves neglect entry fees sleeves of grass embrace strands of ice with a lover or two on the side*
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Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 9:55 AM UTC
Fragments
**~-~-~ Promise after promise Fell into my head I carried them with me, I took them to bed So hopeful, I waited; To hold your forever Intentions negated This jaded endeavor Yet, lies soon took shape And doubt would take hold Your dormant coercion Cementing the mold. You never came through You never came back The woodchips, they faded The bracelets, I lacked Trapped under my instincts My innocence, vanished The moon was relinquished My purity, famished Young as I was I’ll never forget The impact you left me; Your stark epithet. . . You took something good, You found something pure My will cut in half Rose white, and demure. The root of my psyche You’ve yet to discern, Who plundered my childhood; My chastity, burned. Existence forgotten; Defined from within I’ll never evade you You’re etched in my skin. Scar after scar Fell into my arm Your ink swam my bloodstream Your slander, your charm I swindled the rabbit And powdered my nose Freefalling in choices Defining your prose. With tasty white pills, A hand in my throat A liver that’s grilled; The bible I quote. With no one on earth To save me from me I sampled the bottle From under our tree. I cannot begin Nor pretend to describe What happened to Maple, Who am I inside? The loneliest girl In the entire world The events I’d mistaken The chastity; hurled All that I know And all that I think; Is this monster within me Was born in a blink But who’d tune in now? The opinions are set. My mind is jay walking The lines of regret. The holes in my person The doubt I can’t sever; My husk of normalcy Braving the weather. . . For what you don’t know Is what you can’t nurse Assumptions you draw Are making me worse. Conclusions concocted Your story, enhanced My path interrupted Dismissed by a glance. So I’ll say goodbye; There’s no seeds to sew For this is my truth. . . Confession bestowed. Still treading his words That flood to the brink; Harassed, used, and left In less than a BLINK.**
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Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 3:08 AM UTC
Fingers Full; Hands Empty
**~-~-~ Promise after promise Fell into my head I carried them with me, I took them to bed So hopeful, I waited; To hold your forever Intentions negated This jaded endeavor Yet, lies soon took shape And doubt would take hold Your dormant coercion Cementing the mold. You never came through You never came back The woodchips, they faded The bracelets, I lacked Trapped under my instincts My innocence, vanished The moon was relinquished My purity, famished Young as I was I’ll never forget The impact you left me; Your stark epithet. . . You took something good, You found something pure My will cut in half Rose white, and demure. The root of my psyche You’ve yet to discern, Who plundered my childhood; My chastity, burned. Existence forgotten; Defined from within I’ll never evade you You’re etched in my skin. Scar after scar Fell into my arm Your ink swam my bloodstream Your slander, your charm I swindled the rabbit And powdered my nose Freefalling in choices Defining your prose. With tasty white pills, A hand in my throat A liver that’s grilled; The bible I quote. With no one on earth To save me from me I sampled the bottle From under our tree. I cannot begin Nor pretend to describe What happened to Maple, Who am I inside? The loneliest girl In the entire world The events I’d mistaken The chastity; hurled All that I know And all that I think; Is this monster within me Was born in a blink But who’d tune in now? The opinions are set. My mind is jay walking The lines of regret. The holes in my person The doubt I can’t sever; My husk of normalcy Braving the weather. . . For what you don’t know Is what you can’t nurse Assumptions you draw Are making me worse. Conclusions concocted Your story, enhanced My path interrupted Dismissed by a glance. So I’ll say goodbye; There’s no seeds to sew For this is my truth. . . Confession bestowed. Still treading his words That flood to the brink; Harassed, used, and left In less than a BLINK.**
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89
I knocked on society’s door, Hollow footsteps through the crevice of civility, A ***** welcome mat with a broken doorbell; No visitors wanted who were not invited, And understanding was buried under the porch. In Law’s front yard, picketed with ire and arrayed with disorder, Olive branches strewn across dry grass, lay an empty briefcase marked in leather. Gavel and irony betrayed her whimsically. Garden beds in front of Understanding; Plundered of roses and wanton petals. Bland stems wilted amongst the weeds. Relinquished of entitlement; water led Towards apathy and entropy instead. A house of Perhaps: vacant, Open front door to empty rooms. Leased to opportunity but vacated in days, Renovations procrastinated; mocked by The neighbor of dismay and wry. Ignorance paved a new driveway, The unanimous watch of Lively Cul-de-sac; Gated community with hopes of manicured Lawns and pools. Procreated in the minds Of not wild men, but surveyors.
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Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 4:17 AM UTC
The Neighborhood
We wreck havoc on one another in the name of love. We leave inoperable scars upon each others souls and leave one another strangled for air, plundered of all vitals. We call this love, and we recycle these events, these feelings onto the next person without realizing that we are generating and regenerating feeble souls, stripped of their ability to love. What a tragedy love has become.
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Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 6:28 PM UTC
Love for 1
We shall wipe you OUT We will ERASE you We are the children's of Cain and that is what we do I come from the lands of  the Baobab tree and Cocoa Tree Steep in the tradition of revering life and nature all free By my wits and honest endeavours toiled and earned my fee Never harmed nor injured never stole even a penny wee Paid my dues and gave when I could always busy as a bee Now YOU the children's of Cain spake and declared We shall wipe you OUT  We will erase YOU I come from a land that knows parched earth and hunger Where great rivers flow yet clean water comes in little beaker Proud animals run free and only the rodents are for hunter Trees are fertile with fruits aplenty and vegetables are litter In gleeful kin and merry we share harvest with each other Now you the children's of Cain spake and declared We shall wipe you OUT We will erase YOU What is my crime pray tell me when in honest endeavour I gave and shared my wages and food to an errant neighbour Who repaid my kindness by robbing mine with cruel vigour And whilst I remorsed such vileness with fervent pained ardor They riposted, a trip back to your jungle is what we will conjure Now YOU the children's of Cain spake and declared We shall wipe you OUT                                We will erase YOU Children's of Cain know nothing but death and destruction You came to ours and plundered all you could with ruction You stole, fornicated, ruined and destroyed with glib seduction Modern times has merely refined your vainglorious disposition Distinguished misrulers, liars and evil masters of misappropations We shall wipe you OUT We will erase YOU        Children's of Cain OTHERS know all YOU do is **** Like your FATHER killed his BROTHER Like your FATHER killed his guiltless BROTHER
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Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 11:15 PM UTC
Children Of Cain Have Spoken.......
We shall wipe you OUT We will ERASE you We are the children's of Cain and that is what we do I come from the lands of  the Baobab tree and Cocoa Tree Steep in the tradition of revering life and nature all free By my wits and honest endeavours toiled and earned my fee Never harmed nor injured never stole even a penny wee Paid my dues and gave when I could always busy as a bee Now YOU the children's of Cain spake and declared We shall wipe you OUT  We will erase YOU I come from a land that knows parched earth and hunger Where great rivers flow yet clean water comes in little beaker Proud animals run free and only the rodents are for hunter Trees are fertile with fruits aplenty and vegetables are litter In gleeful kin and merry we share harvest with each other Now you the children's of Cain spake and declared We shall wipe you OUT We will erase YOU What is my crime pray tell me when in honest endeavour I gave and shared my wages and food to an errant neighbour Who repaid my kindness by robbing mine with cruel vigour And whilst I remorsed such vileness with fervent pained ardor They riposted, a trip back to your jungle is what we will conjure Now YOU the children's of Cain spake and declared We shall wipe you OUT                                We will erase YOU Children's of Cain know nothing but death and destruction You came to ours and plundered all you could with ruction You stole, fornicated, ruined and destroyed with glib seduction Modern times has merely refined your vainglorious disposition Distinguished misrulers, liars and evil masters of misappropations We shall wipe you OUT We will erase YOU        Children's of Cain OTHERS know all YOU do is **** Like your FATHER killed his BROTHER Like your FATHER killed his guiltless BROTHER
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we're such a benevolent lot we give the Welfare set our hard won dough they sit on their ***** and do not a thing while we're out working for a wage but our kindnesses are being exploited by the dole collectors those ***** mothers having broods of kids and we hand them our toiling quids those kids should be supported by their daddies let them get a job and become responsible for their sprog the Welfare system is getting plundered every day by those who won't get out and earn their pay how nice our honey *** has been taken for granted and bled of its generosity
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Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 7:25 PM UTC
Generous Taxpayers
*She ached for her true love But met only miners of the heart. She wept crystals of diamonds. from her china blue eyes. And when they cut her gold bled from her veins. But the miners stole everything of value from her. They plundered and hacked her with hammers and chisels until she had nothing left for them to steal. now she weeps just salty tears And only blood flows from her wounds.*
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Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 9:33 AM UTC
The miners of the heart
I was stubborn I was stupid And you should be listenin' too All the things i left unsaid and You lied and I was branded When I got rid of you that one day All I could say... Was "I'm so proud!" I can't believe I made it through it! Bye-bye went the cloud It ran away to sunshine. The lightning, the thunder Went away when you plundered When you fell! And I'm so proud!
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Sep 14, 2010
Sep 14, 2010 at 2:33 PM UTC
Proud
*her soul a bride her life a corpse at the gate a naked mouth red to lie exposed without shame to be rendered unconscious to be touched, incised, plundered, and remade coyly she displays the weight of her emptiness chest heaving her torso acquiescent aching for the forbidden her legs parted saturated like rain storms bilious cloud ripe melon brooding spilling outwards she would levitate if only held down by a merciless man*
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May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 6:24 PM UTC
BRIDE
the plantation that housed both my body mind soul had fallen on hard times.union soldiers had plundered the crops and taken every thing worth stealing.when word spread from plantation  to plantation that president abreham Lincoln had something called the emancipation prolimantion  that set us fre and we were no longer enslaved . able bodied and once docile slaves ran of in all directions  but I stayed behind with the old and spirit weary faithful who seemed dazed and listless.my mistres was the only white face among us.i still wore the faint imprint of the daily chains worn like bracelets .that spring day in the kitchen while preparing black coffee and biscuits the little left for mistress and me I felt eager white hands on my breasts,than the cloth shirt hiding my nakedness was ripped away as pink hard manhood invaded my insides.the intense pain rocked all senses and tears flooded out like a dam unloosed.my screams bounced off each enclosed wall.yet no one came to make it stop.as he rode the waves of his personal pleasure my shut  off mind could see visions of running through creek beds and swimming through rivers with a knapsack with two linen shirts two pairs of pants one jacket one pair of shoes one pair of socks parting gifts from my mistress tied atop my wooly head and most of al being able to sing with a loud free voice a song yet sung.
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Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 1:29 AM UTC
SONG YET SUNG BY VICTOR TRIPP
When the world will come to a halt And words will be frozen within Feelings halted in dark corridors Emotions buried in piles of debris World will be shocked to react Humanity will be jolted to numbness These idiosyncrasies’ will have no effect No philosophy will be able to decipher World will be shown the truth and futility So much hurt, pain, wars and bloodshed World will be scarred beyond recognition As we hide behind political correctness We have already marginalized humanity From the deepest cosmic philosophies We may have erred many times and still do Lest we find ourselves orphaned one day This abode will not be our shelter anymore Left deserted, emptiness will reverberate Opportunity lost, we have plundered it Not much of a path is left for tired limbs Our journey of futility and exasperation Disconnected from the cosmic bonds World will be a standstill, and time frozen
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 8:03 AM UTC
Standstill