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"producing" poems
The globalization   Once thought to be an important aspect To connect the world To diverse the world Has been only a part success And of course, a success to be In a way people are connected In the enchanting world of ours Rising the common world consciousness Rising and rising and rising A day by day and day The knowledge domain, a gigantic trip Profoundly majestic experience uplifting people Remarkably All over the world diminishing the differences Differences humans suppose to believe Differences that drew humanity backwards The differences mostly set by identitities Identities in terms of nationality In terms of religion, caste and creed As we observe, differences softening them boundaries A good thing as seen Manifested due to globalization Only possible due to global reach Just possible due to connection in large scale Diminishing are those differences as they don’t fit Don't fit to the consciousness of the world To the rising consciousness of the world now More the fire it sets the plank to burn faster Happening for good for sure, I believe On the contrary differences too In the verse of diminishing the truth It contradicts the positivity As see in the world today is extremism Yes extremism happens to exist If it exists for a long period A whole long period of time In the years to come Is definately calling for absurdity Which humans may not want to percieve The adversities of the impact of globalization Leading a chance for the high level corporates To the world to have access to the marketplace All over the world Leading to a state of consumerism To the people People becoming more and more consumers They are being brainwashed For them to buy goods That global industries produce People are running after the products ****** consumers ****** sheeps Those multinationals And shark headed corporates Are producing and manufacturing The high headed corporates The pigs are manipulating Are brainwashing people The sheeps are diverted towards it The people The only agenda is to gain more And more profit only By making the people slaves of themselves And slaves of their products And believe it Coke and Pepsi may be Right hand and a left hand But the Coke and Pepsi both are the same The very debate which is better is Helping the corporates to sale By making their brains washed away Consumers Sheeps Brainwashed In a sense they are enjoying The debate they argue upon And they are unaware And they are manipulated Knowingly and unknowingly More often knowingly ****** sheep slaves Another adjoining thing most of the governments in the world Are being run by the aid Of the corporates Only have a selfish agenda And strategy to sale Products, thoughts and  philosophy More and more and more ****** pigs Brainwashing minds of the people The sheeps Having a streak of global consumerism Selfish bunch of pigs And the brainwashed sheeps Say hell ya F***king hell ya F***k off Get out'a here ****** freaks Pigs and Sheeps
0
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 11:01 AM UTC
Pigs and Sheeps
The globalization   Once thought to be an important aspect To connect the world To diverse the world Has been only a part success And of course, a success to be In a way people are connected In the enchanting world of ours Rising the common world consciousness Rising and rising and rising A day by day and day The knowledge domain, a gigantic trip Profoundly majestic experience uplifting people Remarkably All over the world diminishing the differences Differences humans suppose to believe Differences that drew humanity backwards The differences mostly set by identitities Identities in terms of nationality In terms of religion, caste and creed As we observe, differences softening them boundaries A good thing as seen Manifested due to globalization Only possible due to global reach Just possible due to connection in large scale Diminishing are those differences as they don’t fit Don't fit to the consciousness of the world To the rising consciousness of the world now More the fire it sets the plank to burn faster Happening for good for sure, I believe On the contrary differences too In the verse of diminishing the truth It contradicts the positivity As see in the world today is extremism Yes extremism happens to exist If it exists for a long period A whole long period of time In the years to come Is definately calling for absurdity Which humans may not want to percieve The adversities of the impact of globalization Leading a chance for the high level corporates To the world to have access to the marketplace All over the world Leading to a state of consumerism To the people People becoming more and more consumers They are being brainwashed For them to buy goods That global industries produce People are running after the products ****** consumers ****** sheeps Those multinationals And shark headed corporates Are producing and manufacturing The high headed corporates The pigs are manipulating Are brainwashing people The sheeps are diverted towards it The people The only agenda is to gain more And more profit only By making the people slaves of themselves And slaves of their products And believe it Coke and Pepsi may be Right hand and a left hand But the Coke and Pepsi both are the same The very debate which is better is Helping the corporates to sale By making their brains washed away Consumers Sheeps Brainwashed In a sense they are enjoying The debate they argue upon And they are unaware And they are manipulated Knowingly and unknowingly More often knowingly ****** sheep slaves Another adjoining thing most of the governments in the world Are being run by the aid Of the corporates Only have a selfish agenda And strategy to sale Products, thoughts and  philosophy More and more and more ****** pigs Brainwashing minds of the people The sheeps Having a streak of global consumerism Selfish bunch of pigs And the brainwashed sheeps Say hell ya F***king hell ya F***k off Get out'a here ****** freaks Pigs and Sheeps
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102
My head, my heart, they are empty, producing, containing nothing. Yet, they are stuffed to the max, flooding with thoughts, emotions, worries, hopes. How can one be so empty, yet so full? I am a ghost existing, alive and dead in this twisted world. They drain us of vitality and fill us with emptiness. We are the lost. Don’t bother looking for us, we are already gone, found.
0
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 3:11 PM UTC
Filled With Emptiness
In some sense is our identity at stake? Is friendship a relationship of knowledge, self knowledge, or has it to do with the imaginary, meaning in some sense who we are is imaginary, and we just construct ourselves through other people..? are we knowing the other, or producing ourselves in that relation through our continuous phases of knowing ? 'Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.' Maybe friendship is an imaginative task that has to then meet reality in some way- as a child hallucinates first what they might be, we have to own who we are first, own ourselves, and then meet reality so we can land somewhere- so that it becomes real, in order to own it, so that we can take part in life. FRIENDSHIP – fragility of friendship Is any friendship real? What is real friendship? Sincerity, genuine concern, legit interest – Friendship is everything and fleeting at the same time
0
Jan 17, 2021
Jan 17, 2021 at 10:46 AM UTC
Thoughts on Friendship and the Human Condition
They drove me across the country, from the busy city where we departed to intimate villages where they recessed, and spent a star filled, moonlit night singing songs, their bodies casting long, wavy shadows from campfires they huddled around. Just as I got too cold and my wheels couldn't turn anymore did they finally turn the spark plugs, revving and igniting my despair and sensitivity producing heat. Sometimes they pushed until I shoved and scraped my rubber on asphalt, on rocks, on sand, on boulders big and small, and I hit a flat-line; the air I could hold in no longer. They rode me into a forest whose undergrowth was as thick as a bears' fur during the winter, and redwood that spanned the horizon you thought it could pat the constellations. A forest teeming with life that one would react like Wendy from Peter Pan-- never wanting to leave Neverland. And I could see it in their soft faces and squinting eyes, bright and lit up with joy, every detail apparent as if I burst my headlights into high-beam, directly on them. It was there I ran out of gas and my engines parched for oil, from the endless adventure that was exhilarating and memorable. One could, as a result, easily forget responsibilities. There was no service or refill station nearby, so I was abandoned where I parked, flat tires, rusty hood, broken chassis, dilapidated suspension. I've proved my worth from when I was brought in and over time it wasn't enough. Only repairing, never maintaining.
0
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
The Walking Engine
As mother nature's Punitive measure Against a society In maintaining The statuesque That doesn't bother, Our rivers Had become subject To a water thirst, To the extent Of projecting Rocky ribs Terrifyingly protruded out For easy count! But now thanks to The all-out, terrace making And reafforestation effort Of each catchment Farmers have made a point And also  to the afforestation Move of the government Rivers aside from quenching Their insatiable thirst Have resumed To brim over With floods Drinking water To their hearts' content. Our forests once stripped of Their wooded cover Have started, fast, to recover From afar they are seen Robed eye-catching green From a fry-pan sky Allowing a shelter Also busy Carbon to sequester. Wild animals That migrated Have preferred Back their way to find. Now farmers don't have Deep to dig To sink a water well Or find a nearby spring. Birds are heard chirruping Be it winter, summer or spring, While Brooks bubbling. Buzzing and hovering From this to that flower Bees are producing Organic honey by the hour. Promising a bumper harvest Farmer's plots have Fortunately continued To resuscitate! Those leaving Their denuded abode behind Away, who preferred To stay 'We will return back home soon! ' Is what They  say. Happily enough Mother nature Affords us a second chance Imbued with Environment stewardship If  we are willing to mend Our wrong 'Feast today famine tomorrow! ' stance. To dispel the spectre Of climate change And systematically face The global challenge True to the adage 'We have either to swim together or sink together! ' Hence in fighting the challenge Or adapting to the change Back scratching, We have to be on the same page. Indeed, irrigation must Not slip our mind For erratic rainfall A  lasting solution If we must find.// Once a famous Ethiopian Poet  Pro.Debebe Seifu Who had passed away had  penned down a picturesque poem lamenting the land degradation, deforestation and change of climate the country was suffering.The bad scenario seemed unrecoverable.Now a days Ethiopia is reversing that sad episode.I have therefore to write a poem on this #change   #trees   #erosion   #climate   #deforestation   #enviroment   #degeradation   #desertification
0
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 4:22 AM UTC
Fortunately it resuscitates
As mother nature's Punitive measure Against a society In maintaining The statuesque That doesn't bother, Our rivers Had become subject To a water thirst, To the extent Of projecting Rocky ribs Terrifyingly protruded out For easy count! But now thanks to The all-out, terrace making And reafforestation effort Of each catchment Farmers have made a point And also  to the afforestation Move of the government Rivers aside from quenching Their insatiable thirst Have resumed To brim over With floods Drinking water To their hearts' content. Our forests once stripped of Their wooded cover Have started, fast, to recover From afar they are seen Robed eye-catching green From a fry-pan sky Allowing a shelter Also busy Carbon to sequester. Wild animals That migrated Have preferred Back their way to find. Now farmers don't have Deep to dig To sink a water well Or find a nearby spring. Birds are heard chirruping Be it winter, summer or spring, While Brooks bubbling. Buzzing and hovering From this to that flower Bees are producing Organic honey by the hour. Promising a bumper harvest Farmer's plots have Fortunately continued To resuscitate! Those leaving Their denuded abode behind Away, who preferred To stay 'We will return back home soon! ' Is what They  say. Happily enough Mother nature Affords us a second chance Imbued with Environment stewardship If  we are willing to mend Our wrong 'Feast today famine tomorrow! ' stance. To dispel the spectre Of climate change And systematically face The global challenge True to the adage 'We have either to swim together or sink together! ' Hence in fighting the challenge Or adapting to the change Back scratching, We have to be on the same page. Indeed, irrigation must Not slip our mind For erratic rainfall A  lasting solution If we must find.// Once a famous Ethiopian Poet  Pro.Debebe Seifu Who had passed away had  penned down a picturesque poem lamenting the land degradation, deforestation and change of climate the country was suffering.The bad scenario seemed unrecoverable.Now a days Ethiopia is reversing that sad episode.I have therefore to write a poem on this #change   #trees   #erosion   #climate   #deforestation   #enviroment   #degeradation   #desertification
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91
Sunny afternoon 75 degrees Breeze Flowing Blowing softly through the slightly cracked window Trees Swaying Laying rhythmic undertones to lyrical chirping Me Smiling Snuggled so tightly Pressed against your skin Entangled limbs Indistinguishable as to where you end and I begin Our Hearts and Breaths Synced Collaborating Producing a soothing lullaby as we drift off to... Sleep I miss afternoon naps With you In The afterglow after... © Tina Thompson
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Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 6:45 PM UTC
Afterglow
I want to stand behind you and      press myself up against you. I want to gently nip at your ear. I want to wrap my arms around you,      and trace my fingers over the arch of your eyebrows      and down your cheek. I want to outline your lips with my finger tips      and to bring them down your neck, slowly. I want to trace your clavicle and run my hands over your torso,      producing all kinds of friction. I want my hands to find your hips      and work my fingers under the waistband of your jeans. I want to keep you close to me,      keep myself pressed up against you. I want to kiss, lick, and bite      at your neck and shoulder. I want to make you moan. I want to have a moment like that,      and I want to make it last.
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
Give Me Five Minutes, Intimate
"And in a funny way, the shaving of my, uh, head has been a liberation from, uh, a lot of, uh, stupid vanities really. Uh, it has simplified everything for me, it has opened a lot of doors maybe." - Stephen Malkmus, Jo Jo's Jacket the first layer of skin i shed was the bra rid of the foreign metal sculptor producing a deep rift between skin my third eye, swallowing gazes rid of my **** , my ***** , my rack replaced with sacks of fat and nerve and milk ducts hanging, existing, for no one else not even myself the second layer of skin was the painting of the face the concealing and erasing of imperfections, the lines of laughter of sorrow of life redirecting attention and importance to the bow and symmetry of the lip no longer did i have to put myself on in the morning i woke up as i was, as i needed to be, bare and uninhibited my skin now breathed, and for no one else not even myself and then i grew another layer of skin, made of dank tangles to protect my age, i stopped shaving the years i'd walked this earth, shedding my womanhood the skin grew to my armpits, little tufts of sweaty, odorous mother nature dozing in a fleshy convex nest and to my legs, were the tangles wrapped around my ankles preventing the spreading of the legs for every life for not every life wanted what was not tame and what was not tame no longer wanted to be. my body did not conform, for it was not brought into this world to be consumed for the pleasure of others it exists for no one else, not even myself and as i was engulfed in this hairy wonder of my own body i shed the last layer, the shaving of the head my brain, my being breathed porous and exposed vulnerable to weather and whispers but i was all at once naked and calm, having finally peeled away the layers of ***** over-sexualization and constrained femininity that had molded this meat sack that serves me, a bundle of circuitry and solution balancing and bobbing on the neck for i exist for no one else, only myself
0
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 10:48 AM UTC
Mae Mae's Jacket
"And in a funny way, the shaving of my, uh, head has been a liberation from, uh, a lot of, uh, stupid vanities really. Uh, it has simplified everything for me, it has opened a lot of doors maybe." - Stephen Malkmus, Jo Jo's Jacket the first layer of skin i shed was the bra rid of the foreign metal sculptor producing a deep rift between skin my third eye, swallowing gazes rid of my **** , my ***** , my rack replaced with sacks of fat and nerve and milk ducts hanging, existing, for no one else not even myself the second layer of skin was the painting of the face the concealing and erasing of imperfections, the lines of laughter of sorrow of life redirecting attention and importance to the bow and symmetry of the lip no longer did i have to put myself on in the morning i woke up as i was, as i needed to be, bare and uninhibited my skin now breathed, and for no one else not even myself and then i grew another layer of skin, made of dank tangles to protect my age, i stopped shaving the years i'd walked this earth, shedding my womanhood the skin grew to my armpits, little tufts of sweaty, odorous mother nature dozing in a fleshy convex nest and to my legs, were the tangles wrapped around my ankles preventing the spreading of the legs for every life for not every life wanted what was not tame and what was not tame no longer wanted to be. my body did not conform, for it was not brought into this world to be consumed for the pleasure of others it exists for no one else, not even myself and as i was engulfed in this hairy wonder of my own body i shed the last layer, the shaving of the head my brain, my being breathed porous and exposed vulnerable to weather and whispers but i was all at once naked and calm, having finally peeled away the layers of ***** over-sexualization and constrained femininity that had molded this meat sack that serves me, a bundle of circuitry and solution balancing and bobbing on the neck for i exist for no one else, only myself
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40
Like a toddler taking maiden steps The narrow stream moves through the woods Tripping and falling over pebbles and boulders Chiming its silver anklets Forcing itself in irrepressible flow It thrusts and shoves its way down Through thickets and a line of ferns And the tangle of creepers and thorny brambles Drowning the whisper of bamboo leaves Its sweet murmur falls in my ears As an eternal living melody The cosmic song heard over eons As the water sluices down the rocks It becomes a frothing braided torrent Producing a harsh grating roar Like the crescendo of a tribal symphony There it forms into a small pool With its waves gently rippling Where birds merrily come to take a dip And sunning their feathers, fly back refreshed Sometimes travelling unseen It suddenly emerges into the open Cutting its way through cracks and fissures Never willing to surrender before hurdles With a bearing immaculate in grace It sends out waves of pure delight What joy it is to watch the dilly dally Of this sedate pilgrim moving to its destination
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May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 10:07 AM UTC
A Stream in the Woods
Down, down pours the rain Producing on all a jewel-like stain. Tear drops of Angels or deep sign of love? Thundering fury or tranquil dove? Each tiny drop glimmers with life Creating a river to succor wildlife. Now soft on skin, now harsh as rock See how they shine on leaves of hemlock. Down, down pours the rain Pitter-pattering down the lane. Hush, Dear Child, and do not cry, Sleep to Nature's lullaby.
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Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 11:58 AM UTC
Rainy Night
Lightning falling from the sky, So strong and bright, Producing electricity, For the whole world to see. Bright white strength, Raining from the sky, Pure and feared, Making people hide inside, And wait for the storm to pass. People fear it's capability, To cause havoc upon the world, So they run in terror hating this amazing power, But i stand and stare completely astonished, At it's magnificence.
0
Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 9:49 AM UTC
Lightning
tell me what words are there to articulate this savage parade not here, not in all the Lebanons whose crystal castles sparkle like broken glass on the dark horizons at the jagged edges of the world from which cultured minds have receded and all humanity has been relinquished to the barbarity of the frenzied flavours of fools who will speak for this wild parade without impediment to mythical protagonists tell me where are the energised arguments against sophisticated yet false laments where testament is torn through weeping cedar trees producing the unpredictable accidental quality that memorialises phantom caresses that have neither been invented nor encouraged the hallow that inaugurates the distinctive features of destructive energies that are both exuberant and hard to comprehend this parade where there is a savage sensibility capable of apprehending contradictory ethical imperatives that vouch for a mocking stream of tragic political consequence displayed vividly in the inextricability of civil order and political violence that defies exclusive claim by casting itself as freedom warrior in disguise as militaristic humanism and burns the temple tree and where human identity becomes an elusive possession owned by a few who in the inevitability of ignorance refuse to recognise their tragic error and the world does not mount a strenuous protest at this headlong dash for Ephesus where antagonistic language and neutral expression of thought converge and here the value of valulessness repudiates, even in a single poetic moment
0
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
Syria
tell me what words are there to articulate this savage parade not here, not in all the Lebanons whose crystal castles sparkle like broken glass on the dark horizons at the jagged edges of the world from which cultured minds have receded and all humanity has been relinquished to the barbarity of the frenzied flavours of fools who will speak for this wild parade without impediment to mythical protagonists tell me where are the energised arguments against sophisticated yet false laments where testament is torn through weeping cedar trees producing the unpredictable accidental quality that memorialises phantom caresses that have neither been invented nor encouraged the hallow that inaugurates the distinctive features of destructive energies that are both exuberant and hard to comprehend this parade where there is a savage sensibility capable of apprehending contradictory ethical imperatives that vouch for a mocking stream of tragic political consequence displayed vividly in the inextricability of civil order and political violence that defies exclusive claim by casting itself as freedom warrior in disguise as militaristic humanism and burns the temple tree and where human identity becomes an elusive possession owned by a few who in the inevitability of ignorance refuse to recognise their tragic error and the world does not mount a strenuous protest at this headlong dash for Ephesus where antagonistic language and neutral expression of thought converge and here the value of valulessness repudiates, even in a single poetic moment
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47
I'm not a writer... Or anything resembling that I am just me... Sharing my words picked out from life's hat I can't find the most accurate to say So letters I dabble in various permutations Layers of letters turn into words and come to play Could call them journals, these text-laden creations But I'm not a writer... Or anything resembling that I am just me... Penning the words picked out of life's hat I'm not a poet... Or anything mimicking that I am just me... Relating experiences out of life's hat I can't conjure poems... About anything or everything Can't use my words to incite or inspire These are just ideas and I just like rhyming They are just experiences that fuel my fire But I'm not a poet... Or anything mimicking that I am just me...  Spouting rhymes out of life's hat I'm not an artist... Or anything pretending to be that I am just me... Drawing scenes from life's hat I can't sketch a portrait with a simple pencil Can't put together an installation and call it art I can paint fairly well; of which I have done several I can draw out emotions and depictions from the heart But I'm not an artist... Or anything pretending to be that I am just me... Producing paintings out of life's hat I'm not a musician.. Or anything fantastic like that I am just me... Playing melodies from life's hat I don't have the quality of voice to match that of a crooner I can't play instruments that could earn a place in a band I can sing in key without the help of a tuner I enjoy music best with a guitar in my hands But I'm not a musician.. Or anything fantastic like that I am just me... Singing songs from life's hat I'm not a writer, poet, musician or an artist... I do a little of everything, not excelling at any one title Although I wish to have everything clenched in one fist All I ever really do is just dabble....
0
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
Dabble
I'm not a writer... Or anything resembling that I am just me... Sharing my words picked out from life's hat I can't find the most accurate to say So letters I dabble in various permutations Layers of letters turn into words and come to play Could call them journals, these text-laden creations But I'm not a writer... Or anything resembling that I am just me... Penning the words picked out of life's hat I'm not a poet... Or anything mimicking that I am just me... Relating experiences out of life's hat I can't conjure poems... About anything or everything Can't use my words to incite or inspire These are just ideas and I just like rhyming They are just experiences that fuel my fire But I'm not a poet... Or anything mimicking that I am just me...  Spouting rhymes out of life's hat I'm not an artist... Or anything pretending to be that I am just me... Drawing scenes from life's hat I can't sketch a portrait with a simple pencil Can't put together an installation and call it art I can paint fairly well; of which I have done several I can draw out emotions and depictions from the heart But I'm not an artist... Or anything pretending to be that I am just me... Producing paintings out of life's hat I'm not a musician.. Or anything fantastic like that I am just me... Playing melodies from life's hat I don't have the quality of voice to match that of a crooner I can't play instruments that could earn a place in a band I can sing in key without the help of a tuner I enjoy music best with a guitar in my hands But I'm not a musician.. Or anything fantastic like that I am just me... Singing songs from life's hat I'm not a writer, poet, musician or an artist... I do a little of everything, not excelling at any one title Although I wish to have everything clenched in one fist All I ever really do is just dabble....
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36
tell me why the people who want to change the world are the ones that have nothing but the ones who refuse to change anything have everything- money, notoriety, and most notable of all greed. can some please explain why we send money to hungry kids overseas yet we're blind to the young ones that are starving right in front of us? i just want to know why a hijab is considered a weapon in america but a gun is not. more importantly what i don't understand is how come women slave around for 9 months producing the human race yet we have no choice over our own bodies? we have made "progress" things are apparently "moving ahead" however, the right-wingers are putting that into your mind. if you look really close at what's happening you'll see you've been living an american lie. no one is free, really, no freedom of love or freedom our bodies we are the property of a corrupt government that apparently nurture us but only lie to us in the end.
0
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 5:40 PM UTC
the united states of dystopia
us humans haven't quite cleaned up everyday we send nasty chemicals spiraling up which invariably stuffs the ozone layer up our polluting of this rim of protection continually goes on we're not holding the pollutants in retention which shows we're damaging its convention there needs to be more innovative ideas developed to subdue the ***** air which we humans keep overly producing here and everywhere so as the ultra violet streams don't not become too extreme they do irreparable harm and give cause for alarm   we humans have an obligation to our planet's ozone cover by not sullying its protective sheath   with tons of polluting smother
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Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC
Ozone Layer
We're cuddled up together Your paw clings to my arm Nails ejecting cling to my arm "Stay with me, please" She seems to beg Eyes of gold look into my blue eyes And I hurriedly let her have her way Purring beside me Keeping my arm warm Leaning her head into The warmth in the crook of my arm She smiles her feline grin And I gently kiss her furry head You are like a little candle Producing happiness and light So curl up beside me While I type my poetry That I dedicate for you Now and then stopping Between typing words To stroke your silky Furry body, sweet Lady Jane ~Marian~
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Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
Cuddled Up Together
today at lunch I saw lilly - like the flower but with another l, a fake - your girlfriend (soon to be ex but you don't know that yet) she actually smiled at me - i think she was surprised i hope so - in response my ****** muscles contorted into a smile(?) more false than i ever believed i was capable of producing. it wasn't really a smile it was **** You For Ripping Her Away From Me it was I Would Like To Punch You But Self Control maybe (fingers crossed) it scared her.
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Jan 29, 2020
Jan 29, 2020 at 4:08 PM UTC
today at lunch
We are a nation in war We will not take any refuges We will only take prisoners So do not try to step up on our borders We do not tolerate anything But democracy and Elton John We have a Queen and good sanitary systems The Queen's love and Märsk Mc-Kinny Möller! We have musicians and even though They make utterly boring music And have nothing but nonsense to say We love them like a ******** nephew We have rappers; they say ***** and they say **** We have stand up comedians they say poo-poo We are about 5 million white species Producing 28.000.000 white pig's pr. year We have such clean waters you can't imagine We have a love so deep you will not belive Our police force is build on high moral principles We build everything on pure and strong idealism.
0
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 3:36 PM UTC
Circle Of Commitment.
I'm a bird. Despite the wind, I will fly. I'm a star. Despite the reign of the moon, I will shine. I'm a seed. Despite being buried, I will bloom. I'm a ship. Despite the rogue waves, I will sail. I'm an ocean. Despite the pollution, I will flow. I'm a polar bear in the arctic. Despite the temperature, I will survive. I'm a Lucifer (Not the devil). Despite the darkness of the world, I bring light. I'm a cymbal. Despite being beaten hard, I emit beautiful sounds. I'm a fine vintage wine. Despite aging, I will never go sour. I'm a petal. Despite producing scents to allure pollinators, I do repel undesirable pollinators. I'm a Lion. Despite the size of an Elephant, I'm the king. I'm a Phoenix. Despite being burned, I will rise and live on. I'm an Oracle. Despite the obstacles, I will reach the pinnacle. I am Omokeyede. Despite the evils of the world, I choose peace and love.
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Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 7:43 PM UTC
I choose peace and love
My cousin came to my house And stayed after Thanksgiving I thought that Thanksgiving food was enough Boy, was I wrong. He woke me up at noon At noon. Didn’t he know I had to sleep off the Thanksgiving meal? And he said As if I should have known. Could you get me the cheeseburger pizza salad slice? I replied, From where? Who would have such a concoction? But I knew him. He would be the type To ask for a cheesy gordita crunch taco from Burger King And look at their confusion with his own puzzlement. Then when they told him, we don’t serve that. He would reply, It’s okay, I have the recipe I can tell you how it is made. So I get up and put on my coat. And gloves. Because I don’t want grease all over me And start to walk. And just my luck The first snow of the season starts. Not heavy enough for me to turn back Just enough snow to turn it into an experience That made me wish I would have slept upstairs In the closet So my cousin could not find me. Its like the Making the Band 2 show When Puff Daddy tells them That he wants cheesecake in a different borough. So I guess my cousin’s Puffy now. He said he was into producing…. I get to the pizza place And tell them what my cousin wants But it took me three tries to get it all out. They said, I’m sorry, but we don’t have the cheeseburger pizza salad slice But we have the chicken pizza salad slice I said Good enough I’m sure my cousin would be happy I would regret those words I brought the pizza home. And told him that I got it. He seemed happy Until he saw that the meat was chicken Not cow. He asked me Had the audacity to ask Couldn’t they remove the chicken And put hamburger meat? I tried to tell him, That is not how it works They don’t respect your recipes They have their own What is the difference? He then pointed at the pizza and said Chicken goes on burgers It does not go on pizza! I was stunned into silence By that logic I don’t know how cheeseburger and pizza go together. I told him I would eat it for lunch So at least one of us was satisfied. The other had his own ideas But couldn’t find a store to cook them.
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Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 2:21 PM UTC
Go get me pizza that they do not sell
My cousin came to my house And stayed after Thanksgiving I thought that Thanksgiving food was enough Boy, was I wrong. He woke me up at noon At noon. Didn’t he know I had to sleep off the Thanksgiving meal? And he said As if I should have known. Could you get me the cheeseburger pizza salad slice? I replied, From where? Who would have such a concoction? But I knew him. He would be the type To ask for a cheesy gordita crunch taco from Burger King And look at their confusion with his own puzzlement. Then when they told him, we don’t serve that. He would reply, It’s okay, I have the recipe I can tell you how it is made. So I get up and put on my coat. And gloves. Because I don’t want grease all over me And start to walk. And just my luck The first snow of the season starts. Not heavy enough for me to turn back Just enough snow to turn it into an experience That made me wish I would have slept upstairs In the closet So my cousin could not find me. Its like the Making the Band 2 show When Puff Daddy tells them That he wants cheesecake in a different borough. So I guess my cousin’s Puffy now. He said he was into producing…. I get to the pizza place And tell them what my cousin wants But it took me three tries to get it all out. They said, I’m sorry, but we don’t have the cheeseburger pizza salad slice But we have the chicken pizza salad slice I said Good enough I’m sure my cousin would be happy I would regret those words I brought the pizza home. And told him that I got it. He seemed happy Until he saw that the meat was chicken Not cow. He asked me Had the audacity to ask Couldn’t they remove the chicken And put hamburger meat? I tried to tell him, That is not how it works They don’t respect your recipes They have their own What is the difference? He then pointed at the pizza and said Chicken goes on burgers It does not go on pizza! I was stunned into silence By that logic I don’t know how cheeseburger and pizza go together. I told him I would eat it for lunch So at least one of us was satisfied. The other had his own ideas But couldn’t find a store to cook them.
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66
Bamboo sticks Touching river stone Producing echoes To accompany the thundering Of waterfall!
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Jul 7, 2012
Jul 7, 2012 at 3:44 AM UTC
Bamboo sticks River stones
train myself to write anywhere and at any time... as commissioned by ms. melan ~'~'~'~'~ so I, being a being, a poet who carries his mind scheming with him: drags along his body and soul, just in case: that his hands might feel the touch of beauty, skin and beyond, the exteriors of his interiors, to feel, to feel, to feel every one of his surfaces, the reality of his peculiar real his eyes so one can envision the unimaginable, and thus, never be satisfied, for all is always new, beyond original that his ugly, ungainly ears, may never miss the sound of his tripping & falling head!over!heels with the realization, he just might be foolishly in love the tastes of life's living that make his pulse race, crease his smiling face, causing his blood pressure so high he pleads to surrender, just begging to let his tongue survive and smells that arouse, producing & promising words proud &  profound, that have yet to succeed in capturing the fullness of the special musk odor that masks allure of attraction no, not a lot to ask for… 5:26am SunSep13 two zero two five
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Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 5:35 AM UTC
Part Two: train myself to write anywhere
Luna Tickle eats only pickles and ***** up all the brine When her brother tells their mother she begins to whine: “Yes I did it! And left no tidbit Is that such a crime? My brother smells and raises hell And leaves the loo full of slime.” Now their mother dear began to fear her children were obstructions Never listening, since their christening, and wished for their abduction So she planned a slaughter and called her daughter Outside to the woodshed, then chopped her neck in two She put Luna’s head in her brother’s bed and said, “Now, they’ll be no more Boo-Hoos” Now you know of Luna and her tragic ending But there’s more to this rhyme that’s pending For the Tickle name is quite insane And was never worth defending But that’s just what her brother did When Mrs. Tickle met Judge Knuckle And almost flipped her lid Screaming: “I never liked that kid from the day she began to suckle! Why she couldn’t be more like me, or her lovely sister Tess” Twas all Mrs. Tickle could confess that day to Judge and jury Until brother **** chimed-in and confessed his sin And did so in such a fury, it was heard throughout and within The entire state of Missouri: “I am Richard Tickle and do confess I am not fickle In fact I am quite pugnacious If you do not see the circumstances like me I’ll be forced to be disputatious” Interjects Judge Knuckle: “Boy, I’ll have you buckled this instance to electric chair If you’re not scared I’ll be splitting hairs In a place where the sun does not shine So if you care, you’d best beware Or your Gherkin will be in a brine” Now Tess screamed out and her mother did shout In perfect unison: **** is my love and none the likes of any other hooligan” At this there was a scuffle Each dame was muffed and ruffled They could not contain All their angst and their pain And it led to the ugliest tussle For each thought **** Was devoted to she And apparently, this could not be As we know of the trouble with Luna So the jury was not out Or even in doubt Of these sinister makings and troubles It was the sickest of affairs Mass-producing glaring stares From everyone within the court Missouri Gazette’s headlines that day Told of how they did slay And burn the Tickle chalet Leaving it in incestuous rubble The lesson today to this horrific ballet Is don’t live your life in a bubble
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Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 6:39 PM UTC
The Tickle Family **** Us
Luna Tickle eats only pickles and ***** up all the brine When her brother tells their mother she begins to whine: “Yes I did it! And left no tidbit Is that such a crime? My brother smells and raises hell And leaves the loo full of slime.” Now their mother dear began to fear her children were obstructions Never listening, since their christening, and wished for their abduction So she planned a slaughter and called her daughter Outside to the woodshed, then chopped her neck in two She put Luna’s head in her brother’s bed and said, “Now, they’ll be no more Boo-Hoos” Now you know of Luna and her tragic ending But there’s more to this rhyme that’s pending For the Tickle name is quite insane And was never worth defending But that’s just what her brother did When Mrs. Tickle met Judge Knuckle And almost flipped her lid Screaming: “I never liked that kid from the day she began to suckle! Why she couldn’t be more like me, or her lovely sister Tess” Twas all Mrs. Tickle could confess that day to Judge and jury Until brother **** chimed-in and confessed his sin And did so in such a fury, it was heard throughout and within The entire state of Missouri: “I am Richard Tickle and do confess I am not fickle In fact I am quite pugnacious If you do not see the circumstances like me I’ll be forced to be disputatious” Interjects Judge Knuckle: “Boy, I’ll have you buckled this instance to electric chair If you’re not scared I’ll be splitting hairs In a place where the sun does not shine So if you care, you’d best beware Or your Gherkin will be in a brine” Now Tess screamed out and her mother did shout In perfect unison: **** is my love and none the likes of any other hooligan” At this there was a scuffle Each dame was muffed and ruffled They could not contain All their angst and their pain And it led to the ugliest tussle For each thought **** Was devoted to she And apparently, this could not be As we know of the trouble with Luna So the jury was not out Or even in doubt Of these sinister makings and troubles It was the sickest of affairs Mass-producing glaring stares From everyone within the court Missouri Gazette’s headlines that day Told of how they did slay And burn the Tickle chalet Leaving it in incestuous rubble The lesson today to this horrific ballet Is don’t live your life in a bubble
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59
i like to listen to bobby womack sing "fly me to the moon" while thinking of jeff's blue origin rocketship exploding in the air all his pride crashing down in pieces recorded for the whole world to see because i have walked unhappily down the streets of soulless south lake union where clueless people walk by dumbly raising rents congesting traffic thinking they are off to change the world crying about peter dinklage yellowfacing herve villechaize, their stupidity knows no bounds always hard at work in south lake union producing nothing that won't be obsolete the second it is completed purposely designed to make our lives unaffordable **** jeff and all his tech bro henchmen who do nothing but steal the sun from the poor
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Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 1:57 AM UTC
songs to get ****** to