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"pompousness" poems
Holding you so very close two years ago, A moment had been shared by you and me, Pompousness of your birthday was fabulous, Picking you up in my arms I had felt like, Yet I restrained myself from doing that. Because it was your home back there, I could not risk losing you that day, Restraining was the best option then, Threateningly close to my eyes, Had been your twinkling eyes, **** – beautiful was the kiss, Aye, we shared that moment, Yes, it is so unforgettable.
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Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 1:39 AM UTC
Happy Birthday (Acrostic)
Beetles creep & earthworms writhe In soil and leafage mould Where men, in towers' ivory Broach loud and souls are sold. Honesty and purity Enflower places plain But pompousness and leather hearts Merely promulgate distain. Distancing the words, effete, Conjure portals cold Whilst wallowing in self esteem Seldom glints of gold. Instead the psalms of simple chime The bells of true release, Where meek and mild and unposessed sweat blood and bleed for peace. Where the stroke of brush, unfettered, Lets the masterpiece unfold, And children sit enthralled, only, When tales of truth are told. M.
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Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 5:36 PM UTC
The Psalms of Simple
Autonomous you don't wanna miss Synonymous with anonymous Alcoholics drinking like the glass is bottomless Lost confidence and gained higher consciousness Now doing opposite to avoid consequence Pertinent providence prominence Profits from the pompousness of old profits of our fifth They were out prophets then Now it's promises Back to provenance of our populous No predominance More contentedness with our documents with what's cognizance And the monument of spiritual opulence Wheather hypothesis Or is what it is To remain in the violence Or turn optimist All your perogative Wish you well Wish you rocket to the fourth dimension **** But most of all wish you to close your eyes to hear what it says Cause that you don't wanna miss It could be your bliss Reminisce but remember they're remnants Fragments Resentment you keep in your sentence Is your penance What you recieve is your resemblance No regrets for pass but remembrance Your true presence is endless Practicing temperance Life is tremendous
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Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 1:30 PM UTC
alcoholism
A true stranger Bedazzling in your mysteriousness One could wonder the secrets you tombed in The taste of a new world? Perhaps? Or just another common jewel Being traded frequently at the market The air you give in Exotic, really The colours you draw in Flows with uniqueness But the way you sway The way you mingle Limited to certain Could it be? Well, that's just great The beauty of an angel But her pompousness is in the way A bitter taste to a delectable cake A mighty spoil to a great scenery Perhaps I been aiming high Time to start from the bottom again
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Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 12:35 AM UTC
That foreigner looks hot but she's racist
Why are hearts so disconnected? Why is hate so persued and love so neglected? Why are smiles so rejected while a grimace is thoroughly respected? How is it that common courtesy Is so hard to be projected? When rudeness and pompousness are praised and erected? Why are good deeds and hard work scrutinized and dissected? When selfishness and greed are voted on and elected? Why do the needs of the many go so undetected? While the wants of the few are sought out and collected? Why are the rights of some being constantly injected, while the rights of others are going unprotected? I guess humanity has been misdirected. Technology has replaced what really makes us socially connected. Is there any way for the family unit to be resurrected? For us ...the human race to truly be interconnected? I don't know...Why is life never what is expected?
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May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 8:49 AM UTC
Humanity unplugged
Porridge be forsworn, the lemons escaped again! If mules had rags, they would be plums, and not A fig would shriek. In all dreamy pompousness the Voodoo doll is a whimsical wine beggar in tips, Before the cart of chocolate dairy pigs get a spank For having left my wing in a toasting lower than It SHOULD HAVE BEEN. And don't forget the doorknob Has feelings for Mrs. Fairy-Warts, GOD HELP THEM ALL!!! And moose, do you smell something burning? I'll be a pin cushion, you've grown a flaming Donkey's nose! Only three and five inches long...
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Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 10:47 AM UTC
The Final Point
Amongst robes of satin and gold, Stood three men of stories told. There a wise man, of no reputation Holds before them, behold! Such elation! In his hand thrice a curious box, So the men exchange in outrageous talks. "What joke is this? Off with your head!" And forcefully arrest him in his stead. But this man of origin ignoble, Without struggle of position immobile Surrenders each a box to these bureaucrats For each in size of one cubic inch at that. And before the sound of earshot fades, "Beware when you open of what cascades!" So the man is silenced into his tomb, Leaving mystery lingering upon the room. Each a man such such ferocity, Inquires upon the box with curiousity. Without caution the first man tears it agaze So the mind's eye bursts into bountiful blaze *And so, what **  It is with your haste!  Your pompousness, your distaste! I shall pry your sight to show you light, yet ne'er a way into your heart's blight! So much so even the sun's fusion surrenders in succession to stiffly cold ice, Forever forgotten, forever forewarned of your fervent fear and greed and vice.* So his mind comes about, facing reality Shrugging his fate of ultimate finality. Such the second man tosses it aside, Yet it flies open, where he cannot hide *So you, your apathy, your content in nothing!  Shall you idle forever true. Knowledge has tainted you, pride stricken you, you stand tall a pillar of stone. For stone you are, and stone you shall be!  So much a pillar of salt of the the sea. Tossing aside the weak and the encumbered to cares of yourself outnumbered.* Fear is struck in the heart of this, No longer for such a heart in bliss And the third, the final acutely aware To open the box with everso care. *Thee the third, the final, your pleas!  Absorbed and plowed by evil's devotee. Hold your heart true, all prayer endue a baby's flesh shall imbue thine heart! For I know your deeds, and you unlike no other!  Yet let them smother you not. For seek and you shall ascertain, knock to make the truth before you naked.* So fallen in reverence upon the knees A chill rendered without cold breeze. And the three transformed by man ignoble Yet not simply here, but to judgment global. Alas, remember this time of year, A time to hold dear and cheer. The time to recount first breath, Yet a time to celebrate death, Defeated.
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Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 12:41 AM UTC
To Defeat Death
Amongst robes of satin and gold, Stood three men of stories told. There a wise man, of no reputation Holds before them, behold! Such elation! In his hand thrice a curious box, So the men exchange in outrageous talks. "What joke is this? Off with your head!" And forcefully arrest him in his stead. But this man of origin ignoble, Without struggle of position immobile Surrenders each a box to these bureaucrats For each in size of one cubic inch at that. And before the sound of earshot fades, "Beware when you open of what cascades!" So the man is silenced into his tomb, Leaving mystery lingering upon the room. Each a man such such ferocity, Inquires upon the box with curiousity. Without caution the first man tears it agaze So the mind's eye bursts into bountiful blaze *And so, what **  It is with your haste!  Your pompousness, your distaste! I shall pry your sight to show you light, yet ne'er a way into your heart's blight! So much so even the sun's fusion surrenders in succession to stiffly cold ice, Forever forgotten, forever forewarned of your fervent fear and greed and vice.* So his mind comes about, facing reality Shrugging his fate of ultimate finality. Such the second man tosses it aside, Yet it flies open, where he cannot hide *So you, your apathy, your content in nothing!  Shall you idle forever true. Knowledge has tainted you, pride stricken you, you stand tall a pillar of stone. For stone you are, and stone you shall be!  So much a pillar of salt of the the sea. Tossing aside the weak and the encumbered to cares of yourself outnumbered.* Fear is struck in the heart of this, No longer for such a heart in bliss And the third, the final acutely aware To open the box with everso care. *Thee the third, the final, your pleas!  Absorbed and plowed by evil's devotee. Hold your heart true, all prayer endue a baby's flesh shall imbue thine heart! For I know your deeds, and you unlike no other!  Yet let them smother you not. For seek and you shall ascertain, knock to make the truth before you naked.* So fallen in reverence upon the knees A chill rendered without cold breeze. And the three transformed by man ignoble Yet not simply here, but to judgment global. Alas, remember this time of year, A time to hold dear and cheer. The time to recount first breath, Yet a time to celebrate death, Defeated.
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49
I looked into the eye of the crow & all I saw was-black I knew the beast had consciousness Only reality he lacked... He had a sort of pompousness Which I think is misunderstood Because he's filled with emptiness He must portray that he's good & yet I find it rather odd Whenever I do see A twinkle in the distance That reminds myself of me & I guess that's why I stick around This dark & cold abyss I hope one day his consciousness Can help him find his bliss... But I predict he'll never change He'll never see what he can be & just like that all my life Will be shattered by my dreams...
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Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 3:48 PM UTC
The Crow
Ladies and Gentleman, esteemed friends and collaborators, we find ourselves beset once more by a particular individual's overwhelmingly perverse actions of self-aggrandizement. Yes indeed, there is a stranger here among us, a purveyor of hate and dismissal, lauding his own horrifying mimicry of poetry as the makings of a legend. I will not foul my words by speaking his thrice-accursed name, and in truth, there is no need. Any one of us who has found our heart-wrought pages smeared by the childish, aristocratic and may I say it, disgusting blabberings of this ill-begotten rake shall know exactly of whom it is I speak. And I speak in ernest, terrible ernest, against this self-proclaimed genius against whom we worthless ants are compared as to a god. And in the name of humanitas and libertas we tolerate his vile ravings and insensate curses thrown toward us as if we were nothing but cattle. Why? Because we believe in something that he will never be able to understand or appreciate, the very concept of a community throws him into confusion and fear. People are dying in the streets in the name of everything that we here stand for and he has the audacity, nay, the pompousness to assault my friends in the only haven some of them have ever known. Some of you may retain your hope for him and your patience in light of his narcissism. I however, have lost my patience and will tolerate it no longer. I consider it my duty to counter his message of hate wherever I find it. I urge you all to do the same.
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Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC
*Oratio I*
Ladies and Gentleman, esteemed friends and collaborators, we find ourselves beset once more by a particular individual's overwhelmingly perverse actions of self-aggrandizement. Yes indeed, there is a stranger here among us, a purveyor of hate and dismissal, lauding his own horrifying mimicry of poetry as the makings of a legend. I will not foul my words by speaking his thrice-accursed name, and in truth, there is no need. Any one of us who has found our heart-wrought pages smeared by the childish, aristocratic and may I say it, disgusting blabberings of this ill-begotten rake shall know exactly of whom it is I speak. And I speak in ernest, terrible ernest, against this self-proclaimed genius against whom we worthless ants are compared as to a god. And in the name of humanitas and libertas we tolerate his vile ravings and insensate curses thrown toward us as if we were nothing but cattle. Why? Because we believe in something that he will never be able to understand or appreciate, the very concept of a community throws him into confusion and fear. People are dying in the streets in the name of everything that we here stand for and he has the audacity, nay, the pompousness to assault my friends in the only haven some of them have ever known. Some of you may retain your hope for him and your patience in light of his narcissism. I however, have lost my patience and will tolerate it no longer. I consider it my duty to counter his message of hate wherever I find it. I urge you all to do the same.
Continue reading...
1
Had I once been able to see through those eyes, All that’s hidden in contemptible lies, I would have known not to get clashed in, To that brutal ‘street’ of such cold-blooded compassion. But it is not to the eyes that one would suspect, What a deep sword in the back two confidants could inject. Instilled my impeccable faith, friendship- Love even, Yet such a confiding fault of my own for once believin’ That a rearing so heavy on pompousness and asset, Could teach fidelity with a sensible mindset! Now these cutting words, incased in lies, Leave a sickening pit betwixt my stomach, in a jealous disguise. Nothing left but wondrous memories turned to dust, As I rip up the pictures in utter disgust. But I stop myself and then realize, That by pursuing this grief, a piece of me dies. So live and let go, wipe the tears that I shed, There are faithful crowds I have yet to equate, And a promising future ahead.
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May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 8:37 AM UTC
Betrayal
(With apologies to Dr. Seuss aka Theodor Seuss Geisel) Green eggs and ham is what I pick I like my poems un-iambic. To much pomp and circumstance Has me gazing quite askance. I ask your patience Sam I am For poetic posing I must slam. My poetry I like to rhyme In simple form and simple time. And have it held with just the same Respect and even mild acclaim. A birthday card I shall not **** For that to me would be a sham. Nor baptism or bar mitzvah I just do not have the chutzpah. No wedding notice or get well Poetic arrogance we must quell. Each greeting billet I shall defend As one of our true brethren. Yes poetry indeed I’ll slam it No synecdoche* or enjambment.* I’ll have no Haibun* or Kyrielle* No Triversen* or Villanelle*. Is simple rhyme anymore silly Than didactic forms we praise so shrilly? I do not like to follow forms. I do not like these contrived norms. It is the freedom of poetry that first attracted me to thee. And why can’t all poetics be Of an equal equality. Perhaps it’s not the forms I hate But the pompousness they doth dictate. I will not stand for Seussian abuse I relish odes to eggs chartreuse. And so I say to thee dear Sam My poems are happy as they am. © Copyright 2018 Robert C. Leung
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Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 5:40 PM UTC
Seduced By Seuss
Words are the feathers I stuff into my mouth Sealing the tomb where I buried my best intentions Like a peacock bereft of its feathers All fluff and pompousness stripped away When the truth is laid bare It turns out I’m just a skinny bird trying to find another mask
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Jan 2, 2021
Jan 2, 2021 at 1:40 PM UTC
Bird Watching
From ashes we arose humanity brimful with incompetence Contentment in minds closed humility dominated by pompousness egotists swiftly defy any opposed prioritize this main concern must benefit future generations to ensure humanity is preserved before Earth's cataclysmic retaliation observes as the populous burns with impeccable acceleration to ashes we shall return -Ajm
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Sep 7, 2019
Sep 7, 2019 at 3:32 PM UTC
Ashes to Ashes
side-stick drummer let’s get this **** to an earnest place I’ve heard enough embellishment to shell me in for several days I’ve meddled in pretentiousness & settled that my selfish ways are nothing but a governor rain & thunder on an ember’s blaze So strip me of the pompousness that clouds an artist’s sharpened heart & strike me with the poignancy of purpose in a work of art & make me feel like I don’t need a reason to invoke a start & help me fall in love with who I am before my light goes dark
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Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 11:07 AM UTC
Side-stick Drummer