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"promoters" poems
It is funny to see banners wishing Happiness displayed with cinematic glamour, the pictures and hordings of Banner heroes. The one at Tannery Road junction was peculiar to mention. Here it was common The captions "Happy" used to summon names of sundry festivals-Local  and national, even internstional. What's uncommon was the bold prints of a hero's name ARUMALAI outshining The caption and his larger than life picture establishing the photographer's digital brushing skills. A passer by wondered who'd be this Arumalai, Is he so great as to be advertised in polivynil? His glorious deeds may be what they want you to heed Still never ever seen or heard of his manners Anywhere than in these motley banners Just as a function at the Tannery road junction Each one passed by this colossal glance attracted provoking  protracted ruminance what do this expensive banners really mean? In another occasion the  glaring glorifying picture of ARUMALAI followed the tag Corporator, Below the man posing a DICTATOR. That was a period to a period of mystery! Banners changed with seasons with greetings on religious occasions Festivals of importance Birthdays of men even with crowded profiles of hailers Whose unrully manners Too clogging up the banners Like a wanted list of jailors. One day a strange banner hooked by the Tannery cross over Spooked and shocked every passer-by There the usual banner cut out the larger than life image blings-out Arumalai the BBMB corporator Posing as dictator! There was no wish of any kind. It was a notice startling any mind The sad demise of ARUMALAI The BBMB corporator Still possed as dectator By his living promoters. "He was sick and the local dispensary advised a minor operation. He was administered the necessary treatment. Was referred to a super-speciality centre and was declared dead. His sad demise was advertised, he was forty. His chummies complained of medical negligence", was the only news summary in major news papers... What was the reason for the minor surgery What're the preparations for the corporator's  operation All are mystery for a  causal itinerary passer by crossing over the Tannery Road junction, wondering at the strange envountering with banners that come and go Keeping no annals Floating on the mind for a while Stopping at the red's knell, Moving with the green signal The rise and fall of heroes As binary one and zero The banners tell a story tertiary Of the rise and fall of a luninary Within a plane ofmomentary Variation of red and green On the Tannery road's screen.
0
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 5:13 AM UTC
BANNER HEROES
It is funny to see banners wishing Happiness displayed with cinematic glamour, the pictures and hordings of Banner heroes. The one at Tannery Road junction was peculiar to mention. Here it was common The captions "Happy" used to summon names of sundry festivals-Local  and national, even internstional. What's uncommon was the bold prints of a hero's name ARUMALAI outshining The caption and his larger than life picture establishing the photographer's digital brushing skills. A passer by wondered who'd be this Arumalai, Is he so great as to be advertised in polivynil? His glorious deeds may be what they want you to heed Still never ever seen or heard of his manners Anywhere than in these motley banners Just as a function at the Tannery road junction Each one passed by this colossal glance attracted provoking  protracted ruminance what do this expensive banners really mean? In another occasion the  glaring glorifying picture of ARUMALAI followed the tag Corporator, Below the man posing a DICTATOR. That was a period to a period of mystery! Banners changed with seasons with greetings on religious occasions Festivals of importance Birthdays of men even with crowded profiles of hailers Whose unrully manners Too clogging up the banners Like a wanted list of jailors. One day a strange banner hooked by the Tannery cross over Spooked and shocked every passer-by There the usual banner cut out the larger than life image blings-out Arumalai the BBMB corporator Posing as dictator! There was no wish of any kind. It was a notice startling any mind The sad demise of ARUMALAI The BBMB corporator Still possed as dectator By his living promoters. "He was sick and the local dispensary advised a minor operation. He was administered the necessary treatment. Was referred to a super-speciality centre and was declared dead. His sad demise was advertised, he was forty. His chummies complained of medical negligence", was the only news summary in major news papers... What was the reason for the minor surgery What're the preparations for the corporator's  operation All are mystery for a  causal itinerary passer by crossing over the Tannery Road junction, wondering at the strange envountering with banners that come and go Keeping no annals Floating on the mind for a while Stopping at the red's knell, Moving with the green signal The rise and fall of heroes As binary one and zero The banners tell a story tertiary Of the rise and fall of a luninary Within a plane ofmomentary Variation of red and green On the Tannery road's screen.
Continue reading...
68
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of your frequent well-beaten paths of hatred. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
0
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:37 PM UTC
A Rose of Sharon
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of your frequent well-beaten paths of hatred. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Continue reading...
52
*Let SPAM reign supreme Same as all mediocrities Hello Poetry* *Let lame egos win Peacocks, fops, vacuous thoughts Hello Poetry* *Let psychopaths shine Make all the peacocks ******* Satan ruling hell* *Hello Poetry Tireless self promoters Hoarders of nothing* *Let the clueless gawk At the boneyard of Peacocks Feather blatherings* *Hello Poetry ******* all life out of it Allowing lame writers* *Wolf Spirit blows hard Clueless rube awful Pontiff Hello Poetry* *Stars shining in void If ever there was lameness Hello Poetry*
0
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 9:05 PM UTC
Zx SPAM
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, I am loved by the one who made me, Loved unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive, that shows up in the cracks, Of your well beaten paths. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, For failing to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, In its flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest I am secure and calm. From your bitterness that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will the enslaved and captive soul fly free, Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
0
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:07 PM UTC
A Rose of Sharon
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, I am loved by the one who made me, Loved unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive, that shows up in the cracks, Of your well beaten paths. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, For failing to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, In its flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest I am secure and calm. From your bitterness that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will the enslaved and captive soul fly free, Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Continue reading...
52
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, I am loved by the one who made me, Loved unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive, that shows up in the cracks, Of your well beaten paths. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, For failing to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will the enslaved and captive soul fly free, Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
0
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:17 PM UTC
A Rose of Sharon
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, I am loved by the one who made me, Loved unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive, that shows up in the cracks, Of your well beaten paths. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, For failing to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will the enslaved and captive soul fly free, Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Continue reading...
52
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of the well-beaten paths of hatred, you frequent. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
0
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:35 PM UTC
A Rose of Sharon
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of the well-beaten paths of hatred, you frequent. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Continue reading...
52
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of the well-beaten paths of hatred, you frequent. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
0
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:33 PM UTC
Untitled
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of the well-beaten paths of hatred, you frequent. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Continue reading...
52
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of your frequent well-beaten paths of hatred. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
0
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:37 PM UTC
Untitled
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of your frequent well-beaten paths of hatred. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Continue reading...
52
I need to assume most people are stupid enough to believe within minutes of big names releasing videos anywhere people are sitting at computer waiting for music that ***** and give them millions of views in minutes. Don't you love how Youtube sits back and lets it all happen? I too could have a viral video with tens of millions of views if I had cash to pay promoters to add views. I too could have a number one song if I could afford to buy people addicted to apps cards for exchange of my songs. Great to be rich and get richer knowing people are dumb enough to believe getting famous ain't like it was years ago. All you need is money to buy you downloads and tens of millions of views to get a viral video.
0
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 5:37 AM UTC
I can be a chart topper (Not a poem - venting)
Soppy is the way, Ladle on the sentiment, If that swill doesn't work, Just cheat with phoney names, You too can be so popular on HP Yet the mirror still looks on with disdain. Note: rather than craft, study, honing, using elements of actual poetry ( metre, alliteration, image nor even metaphor ) the 'Tireless Self Promoters Club' simply want to start at the top? Phoney? Lazy? No cliché beneath them? Pathetic? All signs point to YES!
0
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
Taking Bows for the Banal
*Egos loving each Slithering sound a snake makes Weirdos on HP* *Rather than write well Tireless self promoters Rig game for themselves*
0
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
Sycophants
( • ) ~~~ ^^^ ~~~ TROLL : ( one who tries to control the narrative and bend it toward some desired end ---- destructive for the naive reader / most often used to describe implanted government operatives ) •• VULTURES : Feeding off youthful innocence and uncertainty •• Most of the poets here seem to be TROLLS // The debasement of youth sexuality is no accident ! •• The image of STALKING the ****** object In order to capture them and control their emotions And to deny them their FREEDOM THIS IS A PURPOSEFUL PLAN To weaken the nation by driving its children Into confusion To turn the sexes against each other To destroy all future families And all possibilities of a united front Against the fraud and criminality of our Poisonous leaders ! THIS IS NO ACCIDENT! These are not poets ! These are TROLLS ! • Read them carefully Their techniques are subliminal But become obvious • Oh They SOUND like they are kids too ! • They SOUND like they are HURT BROKEN etc But underlying it all is HURRY HURRY DO IT HURRY HURRY BE LIKE US ! SO ADULT LIKE IN OUR EXPERIENCE ! ( TROLLS ! ) //// They teach that if you OPEN YOURSELVES ( note the violent imagery ) Allows you the status of VICTIM allows you the option of VIOLENT REVENGE • And in a way reminiscent of our adult torture culture With threats of DISMEMBERMENT CASTRATION Etc Not only for the LOVED ONE (sic ) But for FAMILY and FRIENDS ! ///// And all this described as a NATURAL COMPONENT OF LOVE !! •• TROLLS !! //:// Here to destroy you To destroy the nation's Youth to forever make you unable to truly love at all ! // TROLLS ! Promoters of EVIL ! Agents of Alien Entities ! Disguised amongst us as poets ! /:/ To rip you up and spit you out as good as dead
0
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 2:11 PM UTC
Trolls
( • ) ~~~ ^^^ ~~~ TROLL : ( one who tries to control the narrative and bend it toward some desired end ---- destructive for the naive reader / most often used to describe implanted government operatives ) •• VULTURES : Feeding off youthful innocence and uncertainty •• Most of the poets here seem to be TROLLS // The debasement of youth sexuality is no accident ! •• The image of STALKING the ****** object In order to capture them and control their emotions And to deny them their FREEDOM THIS IS A PURPOSEFUL PLAN To weaken the nation by driving its children Into confusion To turn the sexes against each other To destroy all future families And all possibilities of a united front Against the fraud and criminality of our Poisonous leaders ! THIS IS NO ACCIDENT! These are not poets ! These are TROLLS ! • Read them carefully Their techniques are subliminal But become obvious • Oh They SOUND like they are kids too ! • They SOUND like they are HURT BROKEN etc But underlying it all is HURRY HURRY DO IT HURRY HURRY BE LIKE US ! SO ADULT LIKE IN OUR EXPERIENCE ! ( TROLLS ! ) //// They teach that if you OPEN YOURSELVES ( note the violent imagery ) Allows you the status of VICTIM allows you the option of VIOLENT REVENGE • And in a way reminiscent of our adult torture culture With threats of DISMEMBERMENT CASTRATION Etc Not only for the LOVED ONE (sic ) But for FAMILY and FRIENDS ! ///// And all this described as a NATURAL COMPONENT OF LOVE !! •• TROLLS !! //:// Here to destroy you To destroy the nation's Youth to forever make you unable to truly love at all ! // TROLLS ! Promoters of EVIL ! Agents of Alien Entities ! Disguised amongst us as poets ! /:/ To rip you up and spit you out as good as dead
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74
Wannabe novelist, Slumming it slathering rhymes, Awful prose and verse.
0
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 9:25 PM UTC
Haiku ( tireless self promoters )
The dollar will teach custom promoters and wireless handsfree. It is the theme of life: the first in the world of women who change climate change. Have a good interview. My life is the rights and reforms, religion and people, Hamilton. People Now is a sign. My program to work? This is not true for the Council. Money, money, drink, drink, drink. I want a new life in a group. Weddings, Weddings, Weddings, Weddings, Weddings, Weddings, Weddings | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | Mother and wife go to Europe, gold, water, yellow, silicon, amino-amino. Power in the Jordan, Jordan, Asia, Iran and power. Weather in Russia. Robert's reflects the beauty of London. Nigeria has decided to complete the new leadership in Nigeria. My son, great and great, mother and dream of my dreams. Immediately, you will receive an email and return to your room. Peter, Peter and the two with without the release, Tiger Seeger Hill. And in the opposite case. Is this illegal? || | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | Light of the bright lighting of the ground floor-a wall-bearing wall that gives birth to a full-fledged gun that gives the bride the most reliable and reliable wife in the middle in the north. The keys: the brooms **** the dead killed without exit but the specified out took a bit of venison the grass cream lost the lost lost idea of ​​a new man who spoke to the head of the head of Queen Andes. Lu hair combing yarn Samsung broom bite in the hands of the colors of the illuminated light shiny paradise full painting burning farther tidy family Satanic ugly money witch plastic century an earthly base city children eating ***** insurance police gypsy in Sodom's fire religion taking lead ****** rehabilitation relocates The north-east scenery of the winter dance that is in the background of girls' feelings feels the new head of the world that has been fulfilled in the fact that the artists who have the highest degree of degradation skills at first Big wind in the wind blows furry live hold bar talk smart to green is a favorite one you like that angry demon with kisses.
0
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 8:01 PM UTC
The theme of life in the opposite case.
The dollar will teach custom promoters and wireless handsfree. It is the theme of life: the first in the world of women who change climate change. Have a good interview. My life is the rights and reforms, religion and people, Hamilton. People Now is a sign. My program to work? This is not true for the Council. Money, money, drink, drink, drink. I want a new life in a group. Weddings, Weddings, Weddings, Weddings, Weddings, Weddings, Weddings | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | Mother and wife go to Europe, gold, water, yellow, silicon, amino-amino. Power in the Jordan, Jordan, Asia, Iran and power. Weather in Russia. Robert's reflects the beauty of London. Nigeria has decided to complete the new leadership in Nigeria. My son, great and great, mother and dream of my dreams. Immediately, you will receive an email and return to your room. Peter, Peter and the two with without the release, Tiger Seeger Hill. And in the opposite case. Is this illegal? || | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | Light of the bright lighting of the ground floor-a wall-bearing wall that gives birth to a full-fledged gun that gives the bride the most reliable and reliable wife in the middle in the north. The keys: the brooms **** the dead killed without exit but the specified out took a bit of venison the grass cream lost the lost lost idea of ​​a new man who spoke to the head of the head of Queen Andes. Lu hair combing yarn Samsung broom bite in the hands of the colors of the illuminated light shiny paradise full painting burning farther tidy family Satanic ugly money witch plastic century an earthly base city children eating ***** insurance police gypsy in Sodom's fire religion taking lead ****** rehabilitation relocates The north-east scenery of the winter dance that is in the background of girls' feelings feels the new head of the world that has been fulfilled in the fact that the artists who have the highest degree of degradation skills at first Big wind in the wind blows furry live hold bar talk smart to green is a favorite one you like that angry demon with kisses.
Continue reading...
1
Dull public speakers, Everyone is prisoner . . . . . . Jailor loves yawning.
0
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 2:24 AM UTC
Haiku ( tireless self-promoters )
*Must be exhausting Tireless self promoters Spewing their drivel*
0
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 11:06 PM UTC
Zx Angry Poetasters
the chickens we eat are laced with growth promoters fruit and vegetables in cold storage are gassed not to forget our beef pork mutton and fish they've had an enhancement or two this makes for a toxic brew which we eat all the year through the organic ways of producing food has gone by the wayside and we the consumers of food have been taken on a ride the scientific fraternity make discoveries everyday and when it comes to the subject of food they've a lot of enlightening things to say chemicals fertilizers drugs and all they are causing the consumer to question if it is safe to stow in their mouths what is served on the plate
0
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 6:02 PM UTC
Served On The Plate
The love story: Starring us, as the actors of romance and passion. Produced by: Us, as the promoters of this production. Directed by: Myself, as it concerns the affection I feel for you. We met in probably the strangest of ways. But there must be a reason to why? Whatever it was? It seem to have been a blessing because, we have created a love story. Like various people in society. We build and lay our foundation according to us. We make loving the center of our love. I'm your sword and shield and your protector. And you're the object of my eyes forever. In this love story starring us. We both determine the out come of our love story. Like life, it's what you make it?
0
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 11:26 AM UTC
The Love Story(Starring Us)
Tamworth is the Country Music Capital which is located in the state of New South Wales and in the month of January all of its streets fill with musical tales Mr Kenny Rogers that American great shall be featuring he'll be singing ballads for the crowds who of him are so adoring those Nashville record producers could find lots of talent down under it is recommended they hop aboard a jet to check out our Aussie thunder this festival of twanging guitars and fine singers must be seen so we're inviting all devotees to gather with us for an eyeballing glean in January the city of Tamworth plays open house for a fortnight all comers will heartily enjoy the atmosphere of its tonal light Keith Urban twas unearthed by those in the recording industry stetson wearing promoters caught onto his bankable brand of country
0
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
Country Capital
*Must be exhausting Tireless self promoters Spewing their drivel*
0
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
Zx Angry Poetasters
Oh, Faleeha How brilliant is your future I whisper in my ear And pat my shoulder Every morning I open my day with a big lie I tell myself Faleeha leave the news to the promoters of rumors And the houses being bombed by skilled pilots They will be rebuilt immediately afterward Leave Iraqi women to be sold in the Sbaya Bazaar in Mosul Mothers will give birth to other daughters nine months later Don’t worry about the man who sells his life for a handful of coins under the sweltering sun One day he will be able to get a Chinese umbrella Don’t worry about your niece whose face now being eaten by skin cancer She will get through Photoshop a wonderful picture for her profile on Facebook Why do you look so long at picture of your friend who is missing from Kuwait war? He is lucky He survived the darkness of grave Oh, Faleeha Leave the children of Baghdad to wake up to violent explosions Music is no longer fit for their mornings Write down the martyrs names on a piece of a paper and place it in your old coat and leave it in the closet Or send it to the dry cleaners I’m tired of counting the names of the martyrs and the war never ends Faleeha Don’t plan for the future It is as a close as a sniper’s bullet Yes, I open my day with a big Big Big lie But no lie can cover the scary truth
0
Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 6:34 PM UTC
Credible lies
I want to help you . . . Sad, loser self promoters, . . . Rock bottom is home.
0
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 12:37 AM UTC
Haiku ( clueless egos )
The Race That Stops A Nation is an exaggeration promoters love to trumpet out - but it’s imagination. ©
0
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 6:44 PM UTC
Melbourne Cup musing
Let the light shine through the window and embrace your eyes with a gentle surprise, As they come to you in your time of need, They are the light the ones in white, Lest we forget that in which life is based upon the caressing of time, Days go by where you look for an answer, Yet just wait they might see that it be dealt, Just keep your head to the sky and watch as it cries for you, Tears of joy rolling down eternities cheeks as it stops time for a long deserved second, We now remember why we were here, As the promoters of the glory of life upon the bountiful spectrum of Mortality.
0
Jul 12, 2012
Jul 12, 2012 at 12:14 AM UTC
Let There Be Hope In Mortality