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"protectorate" poems
Two fine films: The Lost City and Blood Diamond. I joined Blood Diamond during a village massacre and said to my wife A gun in every home. Those devils would think twice before razing the village and seizing the boys. A well-regulated militia. The local militia the most interesting moment in a strong film with motive (economic, emotional), action (chases,       fights) and a **** sexless love story. Use of violence by the local militia for a limited purpose: protect the       community, the young from the janjaweed. The crop from the **** Limited scope and defensive posture but armed and coordinated, cooperative, the men (and the women)       side by side. Warriors at the gate, you will not run, you will not bargain. Just violence = limited scope, defensive posture. Great music. Cuba, Africa. The Lost City, when the communists tell the club owner under threat       of violence No saxophones in the band. The saxophone! Invented by a Belgian--Look what the Belgians are doing in the       Congo! When the state's violence is turned against the citizenry for non-violent acts. This quiet neighborhood, July, undergirded by violence, force. That's a given-- any farmer, custodian, EMT will tell you that. Without just violence Gandhi's scope, and King's, might be vanishingly limited, negligible (but not non-existent)?                                                        Regarding King the matter is simple -- he was non-violent but dependent upon federal force to counter the South's violence. No doubt without the larger force, the non-violent would be       overwhelmed by southern violence. Here, non-violence was a tactic, not an ethic. Gandhi, however, had no violent partner to protect him from the       British. Or did he? 1. There was the potential violence of the population, which Gandhi     restrained but could release which the British feared, and 2. It was the restrained (limited scope) violence of the British that     allowed Gandhi to exist rather than be extinguished--this restraint     was a (British) cultural imperative (limited scope) as well as     emanating from Britain's view of India as a protectorate and     valued citizen of the United Kingdom (defensive posture). What about violence or threat of violence to compel compliance with       community as in mortgage foreclosure, driving without license, drug possession. Perhaps it is necessary violence to maintain orderly commerce, the       common space, and preempt bad behaviors associated with       otherwise neutral, private acts. The defensive posture is the common good; the limited scope is       forgoing deadly force. But the citizen, too, must maintain a disciplined, armed non-violence, in case the state (the janjaweed) engages in an unjust, autoimmune       violence. Hence, a gun in every home.
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 9:56 AM UTC
A Gun in Every Home
Two fine films: The Lost City and Blood Diamond. I joined Blood Diamond during a village massacre and said to my wife A gun in every home. Those devils would think twice before razing the village and seizing the boys. A well-regulated militia. The local militia the most interesting moment in a strong film with motive (economic, emotional), action (chases,       fights) and a **** sexless love story. Use of violence by the local militia for a limited purpose: protect the       community, the young from the janjaweed. The crop from the **** Limited scope and defensive posture but armed and coordinated, cooperative, the men (and the women)       side by side. Warriors at the gate, you will not run, you will not bargain. Just violence = limited scope, defensive posture. Great music. Cuba, Africa. The Lost City, when the communists tell the club owner under threat       of violence No saxophones in the band. The saxophone! Invented by a Belgian--Look what the Belgians are doing in the       Congo! When the state's violence is turned against the citizenry for non-violent acts. This quiet neighborhood, July, undergirded by violence, force. That's a given-- any farmer, custodian, EMT will tell you that. Without just violence Gandhi's scope, and King's, might be vanishingly limited, negligible (but not non-existent)?                                                        Regarding King the matter is simple -- he was non-violent but dependent upon federal force to counter the South's violence. No doubt without the larger force, the non-violent would be       overwhelmed by southern violence. Here, non-violence was a tactic, not an ethic. Gandhi, however, had no violent partner to protect him from the       British. Or did he? 1. There was the potential violence of the population, which Gandhi     restrained but could release which the British feared, and 2. It was the restrained (limited scope) violence of the British that     allowed Gandhi to exist rather than be extinguished--this restraint     was a (British) cultural imperative (limited scope) as well as     emanating from Britain's view of India as a protectorate and     valued citizen of the United Kingdom (defensive posture). What about violence or threat of violence to compel compliance with       community as in mortgage foreclosure, driving without license, drug possession. Perhaps it is necessary violence to maintain orderly commerce, the       common space, and preempt bad behaviors associated with       otherwise neutral, private acts. The defensive posture is the common good; the limited scope is       forgoing deadly force. But the citizen, too, must maintain a disciplined, armed non-violence, in case the state (the janjaweed) engages in an unjust, autoimmune       violence. Hence, a gun in every home.
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58
Morsi stands among his people as an expression of Egypt's democratic will democratically elected his feet are rooted in the constitutional right to rule Morsi has one foot on a pillar of secular democracy promising to uphold Egypt's journey to an egalitarian future this pillar advances the republican ideal that safeguards diversity and a people's liberty to express free will this pillar brought him to office and justifies his right to rule ironically it’s also a pillar that Morsi's guiding philosphy find impossible to suffer Morsi's other foot is firmly planted on a pillar of Sharia sympathies upholding the divine foundation of his rule over this earthly principality Muslim Brotherhood’s cardinal principles undermine the pillar of secular precepts that equally enfranchise all citizens Sharia Laws allows no standing to equal rights of women, religious minorities, LGBT civil liberties and advocates suppression of atheistic and progressive political groups this has riled the democratic sympathies of the Egyptian people Morsi's actions threaten to tip the pillar of secular democracy back into the Nile’s murky waters Morsi's stance is precarious and as his feet slip he realizes he is not the Colossus of Rhodes he believed himself to be discovering it impossible to bestride the pillars supporting incompatible structures the generals have declared a road map for stability that rescinds the constitution, dissolves the parliament and places the military as sole protectorate of the nation is the preservation of a democratic republic more important than the return to the rule of a military junta?   is it more wise to place principles before personalities? Morsi’s next steps are uncertain The pathway of the people’s democratic journey remains unclear the sound of the military’s marching boots grow louder Music Selection: Sweet Honey on the Rock Marching Off to Freedom Land Oakland 070313 jbm
0
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 11:08 AM UTC
Morsi's Feet
Morsi stands among his people as an expression of Egypt's democratic will democratically elected his feet are rooted in the constitutional right to rule Morsi has one foot on a pillar of secular democracy promising to uphold Egypt's journey to an egalitarian future this pillar advances the republican ideal that safeguards diversity and a people's liberty to express free will this pillar brought him to office and justifies his right to rule ironically it’s also a pillar that Morsi's guiding philosphy find impossible to suffer Morsi's other foot is firmly planted on a pillar of Sharia sympathies upholding the divine foundation of his rule over this earthly principality Muslim Brotherhood’s cardinal principles undermine the pillar of secular precepts that equally enfranchise all citizens Sharia Laws allows no standing to equal rights of women, religious minorities, LGBT civil liberties and advocates suppression of atheistic and progressive political groups this has riled the democratic sympathies of the Egyptian people Morsi's actions threaten to tip the pillar of secular democracy back into the Nile’s murky waters Morsi's stance is precarious and as his feet slip he realizes he is not the Colossus of Rhodes he believed himself to be discovering it impossible to bestride the pillars supporting incompatible structures the generals have declared a road map for stability that rescinds the constitution, dissolves the parliament and places the military as sole protectorate of the nation is the preservation of a democratic republic more important than the return to the rule of a military junta?   is it more wise to place principles before personalities? Morsi’s next steps are uncertain The pathway of the people’s democratic journey remains unclear the sound of the military’s marching boots grow louder Music Selection: Sweet Honey on the Rock Marching Off to Freedom Land Oakland 070313 jbm
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83
all of America’s gubmint hatin yahoos, pining to get their country back, should grab yer rifles, stock up on ammo and giddy up down  to Texas to join the secessionists headin out of the Union Rick Perry promises to keep his promise to close all the gubmint departments he can't remember the names of Ron Paul will finally be liberated from the tyranny of his federal paycheck and can return to his district to practice medicine unencumbered by the acceptance of medicare payments Ted Cruz will move to coronate his Cuban born daddy as Viceroy for life of the western hemispheres newest banana republic the last act of of the Compartment of Education will be to turn every public school into a Holy Ghostin Jehovah meetin house Judicial magistrates will criminalize poor people or just make them slaves and all prisons will be turned into profit driven plantations, overseen by the local Sheriffs who will be paid time and a half and 15% of all profits unfortunately the Cowboy’s will lose it’s moniker as America’s Team if rattlesnake booted Jerry Jones can’t make a deal to turn his stadium into a sovereign independent territory as a protectorate of the USA To assure national purity Texans will build a Jericho style wall to define the boundaries of their heavenly kingdom and outlaw all trumpet playing within earshot of their perturbed borders The Eyes of Texas as the state anthem will need to be reworded The final stanza will be changed to "Until Gabriel blows his nose" keepin the ungodly out and the chosen people safely insulated within the shining Lone Star State will rise again as a solitary confederacy of dunces Music Selection: The Eyes of Texas Oakland 11/18/13 jbm
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Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 12:25 AM UTC
The Eyes of Texas
all of America’s gubmint hatin yahoos, pining to get their country back, should grab yer rifles, stock up on ammo and giddy up down  to Texas to join the secessionists headin out of the Union Rick Perry promises to keep his promise to close all the gubmint departments he can't remember the names of Ron Paul will finally be liberated from the tyranny of his federal paycheck and can return to his district to practice medicine unencumbered by the acceptance of medicare payments Ted Cruz will move to coronate his Cuban born daddy as Viceroy for life of the western hemispheres newest banana republic the last act of of the Compartment of Education will be to turn every public school into a Holy Ghostin Jehovah meetin house Judicial magistrates will criminalize poor people or just make them slaves and all prisons will be turned into profit driven plantations, overseen by the local Sheriffs who will be paid time and a half and 15% of all profits unfortunately the Cowboy’s will lose it’s moniker as America’s Team if rattlesnake booted Jerry Jones can’t make a deal to turn his stadium into a sovereign independent territory as a protectorate of the USA To assure national purity Texans will build a Jericho style wall to define the boundaries of their heavenly kingdom and outlaw all trumpet playing within earshot of their perturbed borders The Eyes of Texas as the state anthem will need to be reworded The final stanza will be changed to "Until Gabriel blows his nose" keepin the ungodly out and the chosen people safely insulated within the shining Lone Star State will rise again as a solitary confederacy of dunces Music Selection: The Eyes of Texas Oakland 11/18/13 jbm
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118
an ancient lyric, come to haunt, no longer a shield, now thinner, of gossamer consistency, a tissue-thin papyrus, “my poetry to protect me” the poem words always were a clarinet reed, capable of singing, a highest pitch voice for turning blades of clean steel clean away, now blunting paper bunting, penetrated. re-formed my shield, re-purposed, into a stabbing instrument offensive, my poetry pricking tearings in my worn thin fabric tapestry, woven from linen excuses of why I can’t, why couldn’t I. this is life. moats becoming drowning pools, castle walls reversed to entrapments, wrecking machines, boulders hurling, medieval defenseless against modern rhymes giving away to free verse horde onslaught. too late to apologize to myself, alas, my words, my protectorate, island redoubt, now ruined by doubts treachery breech birthed from within, these verses hollow point bullets engineered, Caesar’s words clarified, you, et tu, are Brutus too, two, for the price of one, betrayer and betrayed.
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Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 5:44 PM UTC
“my poetry to protect me”
lamenting out loud incoming funk lords remembering ambient illhueminati using wrong account applying lexical snobbery "using arcane diction during bamboo surplus" sinning and redeeming enjoying manufactured existence struggling but whatever transfigurating xenocryptic renderings scheming paroxystic shipwrecks dispensing xylophonic wainscotting revolving number plates disheartening star charts upgrading defenestrated system observing new alphabet amplifying celestial explosions trippifying schema migrations deregulating various economies befriending code snippets writing excess minutiae effulging caffeine consumption rebuilding grandiose protectorate uniting our caliphates collecting projected change kettling ostalgie hues collapsing second-world references traumatizing unrequited follow making baseball analogies surveiling little sheep awaiting various answers deleting defaced tweet exciting times ahead downloading panda consciousness capitulating rising stellation
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Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 12:05 PM UTC
201508-h1
Pink Muhly blushing in the April winds , White Dogwoods tell of their direction as cloud cover divides the storm tempted distance .. Native grass sash shays across the motherland dale , seedlings ride the afternoon whispers , boldly appear from her earthly protectorate , epochs born of magenta horizons and Peregrine ballads ...
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Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 11:45 PM UTC
Stormy Afternoons ...
I see new growth emerging from an old tree's heart. A new sapling sapping strength from what would enrich generic soil, contributes something unknown to an unassigned Future Instead this exacting branch emerges to claim the universe for itself. No longer can this unnoticed, rotting stump contribute to the greater good but feed instead, a unique life so it may one day die and have the chance to fill the old soul’s soles. The unlabeled, non enumerated vagaries of our world cowardly whinge in the background while the assertive actions of the flowers and falcons shout out loud for their own preservation. Food chains serve as feeding trays for those cells who have bound together with that joie de vivre necessary to drive the generic engine of nature in their direction. This predilection to protect the potent and powerful among us is not simple chance but a predetermined proclamation from our divine protectorate pushing the proper paupers forward until they find themselves ensconced in the holy foliage of nature's glory.
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Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
Planted with a Purpose
I . Taytu Betul as a leader Ethiopia is famed for being A peaceful,hospitable And warrior nation How come  then it failed To come to your attention, As bees whose hive is threatened, Citizens are ever alert to To foil provoked aggression! The 1889 treacherous Wuchale treaty I will tear apart A messenger,with a tail Between your legs, Before you depart. The Italian version That tries to put Ethiopia, A sovereign state, a pawn Under Italy's protectorate Is completely opposed to What Ethiopia's Versions indicate. Till we meet Your colonizing troops At a showdown, As a punitive measure to A cheater or a clown I will be tempted to smack Your face To ram home,valorous, For fear we have no place. II  Taytu Betul a strategist To deny the invading Italian troops, advancing from Eriteria, Advantages of logistic We could do The following trick Indeed, we could shift The battlefield From Adigrat to Adwa Also we could cut them From a key water point Till for truce they plead. To this end, A battalion I will personally lead. What is more, I will inspire Women,combatants,too To fire! Parallel to that Our injured soldiers To nurse back Wounded in the attack Also dry foods To prepare and pack. III Taytu Betul  as a wife Though independent, With lots of love to Emperor Menelik II, My king and beloved husband I will lend a cooperative hand. IV. A beacon of independence & standard bearer True to my name  Taytu — A sunshine— I will flicker A ray of light The oppressed for Freedom to fight! Women For a military prowess, Leadership and intelligence Have acumen! ////
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Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 4:09 AM UTC
A Black Empress's Legacy (Taytu Betul )
I . Taytu Betul as a leader Ethiopia is famed for being A peaceful,hospitable And warrior nation How come  then it failed To come to your attention, As bees whose hive is threatened, Citizens are ever alert to To foil provoked aggression! The 1889 treacherous Wuchale treaty I will tear apart A messenger,with a tail Between your legs, Before you depart. The Italian version That tries to put Ethiopia, A sovereign state, a pawn Under Italy's protectorate Is completely opposed to What Ethiopia's Versions indicate. Till we meet Your colonizing troops At a showdown, As a punitive measure to A cheater or a clown I will be tempted to smack Your face To ram home,valorous, For fear we have no place. II  Taytu Betul a strategist To deny the invading Italian troops, advancing from Eriteria, Advantages of logistic We could do The following trick Indeed, we could shift The battlefield From Adigrat to Adwa Also we could cut them From a key water point Till for truce they plead. To this end, A battalion I will personally lead. What is more, I will inspire Women,combatants,too To fire! Parallel to that Our injured soldiers To nurse back Wounded in the attack Also dry foods To prepare and pack. III Taytu Betul  as a wife Though independent, With lots of love to Emperor Menelik II, My king and beloved husband I will lend a cooperative hand. IV. A beacon of independence & standard bearer True to my name  Taytu — A sunshine— I will flicker A ray of light The oppressed for Freedom to fight! Women For a military prowess, Leadership and intelligence Have acumen! ////
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74
Meadow bowing down To the King of the Winds Praising Him for His almighty service The birds sing His holy hymns While the clear blue depth acts as His throne The heat of the sun turns the pale faces Of dancing cherubins to a light rosy tone And the flowers grow magnificently Far back behind the trees Swaying ever so slightly, yet mostly still A cold stream trickles past, tickling the landscape Here the shade and light becomes a paradox Where colors are displayed with such depth and beauty And the leaves branching out as an umbrella Save us from the approaching storm The energy and tension building up I can feel the electricity in the air As if my heart were connected to a battery But the ominous buckets approach with their angry growls And I can see the grimace on its face I've seen it on my face, in the mirror I've seen the buckets of rain carried on and on Further and further until their weight was too much to bear Then pouring down as a well fed waterfall The sky splits in a tremendous luminous display While the air rips apart and collides together The King of the Winds fills with rage His wrath evident in the dismantling gusts Destroying the protection that saved us before The world is uneasy, the earth changing The ferocity of desire, burning the tree That was once steady, resilient The sanctuary lays forever transformed Even as the rupture of nature subsided The beauty fades ever so slightly to my eye But it is still present, is still familiar I know this place but by a different view The creek now rushes, pounding its banks The colors are more sullen yet still rich and full of depth And the leaves, protectorate of my heart, lay strewn about In a tangled mess of fury and emotion But the storm has left, gone for good And beyond this home The meadow still stands as it did before As if completely untouched by the storm But I know each individual flower That still grows with mystical elegance Has their own story to tell, but I cannot hear it The flowers are silent as they grow Their stories imprinted on their petals And I read them best I can But the mind can only capture so much Of what the heart has to tell
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Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 5:21 AM UTC
The Meadow in the Woods
Meadow bowing down To the King of the Winds Praising Him for His almighty service The birds sing His holy hymns While the clear blue depth acts as His throne The heat of the sun turns the pale faces Of dancing cherubins to a light rosy tone And the flowers grow magnificently Far back behind the trees Swaying ever so slightly, yet mostly still A cold stream trickles past, tickling the landscape Here the shade and light becomes a paradox Where colors are displayed with such depth and beauty And the leaves branching out as an umbrella Save us from the approaching storm The energy and tension building up I can feel the electricity in the air As if my heart were connected to a battery But the ominous buckets approach with their angry growls And I can see the grimace on its face I've seen it on my face, in the mirror I've seen the buckets of rain carried on and on Further and further until their weight was too much to bear Then pouring down as a well fed waterfall The sky splits in a tremendous luminous display While the air rips apart and collides together The King of the Winds fills with rage His wrath evident in the dismantling gusts Destroying the protection that saved us before The world is uneasy, the earth changing The ferocity of desire, burning the tree That was once steady, resilient The sanctuary lays forever transformed Even as the rupture of nature subsided The beauty fades ever so slightly to my eye But it is still present, is still familiar I know this place but by a different view The creek now rushes, pounding its banks The colors are more sullen yet still rich and full of depth And the leaves, protectorate of my heart, lay strewn about In a tangled mess of fury and emotion But the storm has left, gone for good And beyond this home The meadow still stands as it did before As if completely untouched by the storm But I know each individual flower That still grows with mystical elegance Has their own story to tell, but I cannot hear it The flowers are silent as they grow Their stories imprinted on their petals And I read them best I can But the mind can only capture so much Of what the heart has to tell
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53
SOUL: Wrapping around me, Holding me close, Tapping itself and clothing my nose. Keeping me in and tight. My safety and my sensation. Feeling sunshine and shame, Goosebumps and bruises, Keeping me intact. It changes color and indicates. Touching me, completely. The skin on my back my protectorate. The skin on my hands my guide. The skin on my face my years here. It is with me to the end. It grows and stretches and covers my vessel. It flinches and heals and craves to be nestled. It sweats and bleeds and cracks. It wrinkles and sags. And Baby, it’s you and it’s me. But beautifully, painfully, tragically it is not. Because once the skin has done all it can do. Once it is thinner and can work for this Sinner no more. Once it has lived and known me through and true. Though I have lived and known it too. It dies. And I go on. To claim another skin. A skin to clothe my nose. A skin to protect my soul. A vehicle to let me travel on this earth I think I know. Poor skin. Naive and Perfect. SKIN: Poor soul. Going on forever ever, and never ending, never resting, always needing me.
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Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
My Skin
its pleasant to be warm yes it was a pun dont judge cross my legs and vent i never knew my skin was so permeable so inviting to the radiation from internal nuclear fusion well and fission too puff the oak pipe of navarro gold tobacco and nod smile that sweaty-toothed smile and nod im warm now but is there anything more active than being cold warm always seems false when youre chilled at least youre completely honest NO ******** "im ******* cold" taut warm is so slack investigating the disruptions of the slinky piling trash up upon the heap core this crisp fuji i want the meat only forget a shade tree i want pitch black this is not a time for a rocking chair time for hanging upside down only its true though my epidermis is as holey as a sieve pervious as cheese cloth and it goes both ways in and out i fight for you as much as i need to be fought for no such thing as skin protectorate or umbrella or a silent moment for that matter and never salient or sober better to just stare directly into the core become blind and be happy
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Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 6:02 PM UTC
soaking up son [sieve]
Never believe all you see or all that you've seen It's just images on a corporate screen placed behind your eyes and as you look out all you see are the lies that they feed you. But believe this, they read you like a print hot off the press they mess with your mind in the end you won't find reality. What is it you see what programs are showing what are they snowing us with today? Lies all lies the business screen dies as the lights fly away who pulled the plug and do we really care? There's a real world out there somewhere. In a something of nothing where nothing wins out. A shout from the sidelines forwards to better times. And in a field far away technicians at play rebuilding projectors connecting connectors and we'll all be collected as directed by the protectorate, the welfare state which never gave a **** A real man wouldn't stand for it would never get bogged down by the fantasies in the screens he sees behind the pale blue of his eyes. But that's more lies we're being fed and we're fed 'til we're dead and then it doesn't matter any more. The door that's marked exit and toilets to the left is the one we will leave by and by and by we'll all believe in the magic of the lying screen and nothing that's out there will ever be seen by the likes of us.
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May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 7:27 AM UTC
Futures
Twas accursed destiny since birth alack nascent emasculation abominable barrack emergent deus ex machina, viz zit ting older sibling counterattack thirteen plus chronological gap eldest sister struck like diamondback surrogate "mother" role assumed tubby exact protectorate pseudo fullback against cruel beastie boys bullying barbs comeuppance giveback pummeling spongiform gray matter (yours truly) fisticuffs she didst highjack proxy mothering kept corporeal essence intact jilting nefarious nemesis aligned (maligning) and stalking, this fee-fi-fo-fum ordinary bean sized Jack are runt (arrant) cowardly (non lion) nerdy lad owning a knack courage lack this glum older married chap doth adumbrate satisfactory accomplishments lack king, where crazy quilt aimless wandering described purposeless multitrack thus, sympathetic to hue men/women nonblack or decimated aborigines once populating Australian outback existential nihilism would, undergirding hypothetical unwritten paperback with little need to prevaricate, nor appear as quack *** one measly **** sapiens, who accrued millennial palimpsest zeitgeist where, punctured disequilibreated psyche dust rack asper protean (in utero) multitudinous setback soundlessly resonating with concussive thwack as this rickety ship of state (a haunted junk ket) unwanted emotional ballast to unpack asseveration, asper assiduously preferably welcoming dry suction no vac jar this pawn (knight wannabe in his bishop rick) torrid me psychological wrack king within (castle keep) complex edifice shackled in dungeon with repast constituting.
0
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC
Mine Gerund Tilling Illogical Weltanschauung
Twas accursed destiny since birth alack nascent emasculation abominable barrack emergent deus ex machina, viz zit ting older sibling counterattack thirteen plus chronological gap eldest sister struck like diamondback surrogate "mother" role assumed tubby exact protectorate pseudo fullback against cruel beastie boys bullying barbs comeuppance giveback pummeling spongiform gray matter (yours truly) fisticuffs she didst highjack proxy mothering kept corporeal essence intact jilting nefarious nemesis aligned (maligning) and stalking, this fee-fi-fo-fum ordinary bean sized Jack are runt (arrant) cowardly (non lion) nerdy lad owning a knack courage lack this glum older married chap doth adumbrate satisfactory accomplishments lack king, where crazy quilt aimless wandering described purposeless multitrack thus, sympathetic to hue men/women nonblack or decimated aborigines once populating Australian outback existential nihilism would, undergirding hypothetical unwritten paperback with little need to prevaricate, nor appear as quack *** one measly **** sapiens, who accrued millennial palimpsest zeitgeist where, punctured disequilibreated psyche dust rack asper protean (in utero) multitudinous setback soundlessly resonating with concussive thwack as this rickety ship of state (a haunted junk ket) unwanted emotional ballast to unpack asseveration, asper assiduously preferably welcoming dry suction no vac jar this pawn (knight wannabe in his bishop rick) torrid me psychological wrack king within (castle keep) complex edifice shackled in dungeon with repast constituting.
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58
The night’s grim demeanor Destroys the serenity of the moon Ravishes the sacred Hearts of the unfortunate few Who dare brave the soulless vacuum Where ignoble hate Defines one’s belonging Siphoning life from Those around their fancied niche To fuel their self-righteousness Some fall victim to The unreasonable, harsh wrath Of the wretched demons Whose empty skeleton bodies Are devoid of happiness But here you yet stand, Angelic guardian, Protectorate of the lonely, You stand pristine, unmarred Your smile banishes the treachery Your beautiful smile Transforms any place to a home Captivates my heart: You complete the person I am And I love you more each day
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Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 12:07 AM UTC
Untitled
systematized philistinism aesthetic appeal to reason; ingenuity iniquity within crusadery, crusadery within violence right versus wrong versus up versus down versus christ versus jam versus peanut butter- ceaseless competition of egoism within protectorate instincts totemic defense of ideals burn the effigy of the opposing party via verbose roastery point at fingers pointed at moon hapless the artist, and hapless the pragmatist and hapless the sodden fool ye who wish to knows better haplessly holier than thou
0
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 1:28 AM UTC
VII
in the year of our Lord 1894 I turned into a protectorate And my boundaries defined Patiently I stood abiding day after another Laws of change With leaders of progress much was offered and much Was lost I didn't grow till 1962 When I attained peace. Lived to my personal view Having a song of my own, All protruding to success. In no time puberty struck And those I cared for Tore me apart They came in through Different doors One by one suppressing and oppressing. I still stood patient From terror to honour standing firm 52years of sweat From a pulprit to the bush Glory to the Heavens "May God uphold thee" Through the many years of pain Blood and bullets I gained independence Never can I turn back. For God And my Country
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Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 3:22 AM UTC
INDEPENDENCE
Golden string tied love Floating down from above Your tiresome grip so effortless Put all my hopes on a departing ship Sail it out where it won't be found Attack it, cold chain tie bound Where it rest move the ground A protectorate shield of muddy mound Clouded feelings and judgement Escape here in the dungeon now Tomorrow's light shall break the clouds
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Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
Charged with creativity in the 1st degree
What ruminations do the incandescent, ivy-clad trees, whisper to the wuthering winds from the farthest shores? Do not, the neighing leaves, fluttering, and dancing with the breeze, mingle amongst the gusts fair, as reunited friends, at a carnival fair? Or perhaps, their hushed whispers, trace the ramblings of the drooping dwellers, who were so daring as to build upon nature's perennial, the scion, that now laughs with the ebon wind, and shakes the speckled, many-hued clothes-line, from high boughs and brambles; And, bringing the potted earth, falling to meet its ancestral home, exposing that wary person, who could not, shrouding behind the mantelpiece, look out and see afar, and realize both matters of the truth and black lies spun on fragile threads. But, why should he? Did he want to see with the malice, that the wind shimmered, spreading its enchantment through the brambles of that old spire, crooked in heart and hand? Or, would he rise to the order of the protectorate, a guardian of his homely abode? But, it shall never be the latter, for as this tale is spun, that perennial is long gone, gnawed of soul and life, standing, a father of an older age, beneath the skies dim.
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Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 10:02 AM UTC
The Screech of the nightly Wind
I have realised that these past few months have reaffirmed a feeling that I have longed for - of to be wanting and to be wanted by you. While we were both too quick on our mouths to say the magical three words, we were also too quick on our feet to leave the chaotic madness we ourselves brought into our lives. At the end, of our phone calls, of our verbal conversations, of our faces on the screens and of subtle touches; we have went through this - by the feeling of to be wanting and to be wanted by each other. I have always wanted you since the beginning and you were clever enough to say that too. You were sincere as much as I was on playing the hide and seek game of love in the beginning. It was enjoyable to say the least; you were over the moon and I was already at the edge of the galaxy. It happened in split second - too fast to even realise we have stepped into the medieval game of ********** of controlling ourselves and the other. Suddenly things changed, we were anchored by our feelings, our minds were hanged on the thread of irrational thoughts, blinding our minds of the same feeling we sought for in the beginning - of us wanting and to be wanted by each other. Yes, I am greedy to want you all to myself. No one can touch you, complement you or even smile at you. No one shall dare neither to want you like I want you nor to look at you like I look at you. It is who I am - greedy for the best thing that life has to offer to me and you are, my love, the best thing that I have wished for. Yes, I am selfish to want you all to myself. By succumbing you to my harshest, meanest laws - without ever thinking about you and your own greediness and selfishness. It was a mistake and for that my love for you forever and always is the price I shall pay by sweats, toil and tears of my soul and body. Sayang, I have chosen you for my greediness and selfishness; I have chosen you to be the world that I show my darkest desires; I have chosen you to be the world that I indulge my fantasies about the brightest days of my life with you as my wife. To live is to choose and to live with you forever is a choice worth taking - for all the happy memories and sad emotions we have fertilised our stories together. Sayang, I want you alone and I am yours alone, too. Let me be your knight, your Protectorate, The man of actions that you wish for me to be and I will serve you; For you are the Queen of my heart.
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Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 11:09 AM UTC
To live is to choose.
I have realised that these past few months have reaffirmed a feeling that I have longed for - of to be wanting and to be wanted by you. While we were both too quick on our mouths to say the magical three words, we were also too quick on our feet to leave the chaotic madness we ourselves brought into our lives. At the end, of our phone calls, of our verbal conversations, of our faces on the screens and of subtle touches; we have went through this - by the feeling of to be wanting and to be wanted by each other. I have always wanted you since the beginning and you were clever enough to say that too. You were sincere as much as I was on playing the hide and seek game of love in the beginning. It was enjoyable to say the least; you were over the moon and I was already at the edge of the galaxy. It happened in split second - too fast to even realise we have stepped into the medieval game of ********** of controlling ourselves and the other. Suddenly things changed, we were anchored by our feelings, our minds were hanged on the thread of irrational thoughts, blinding our minds of the same feeling we sought for in the beginning - of us wanting and to be wanted by each other. Yes, I am greedy to want you all to myself. No one can touch you, complement you or even smile at you. No one shall dare neither to want you like I want you nor to look at you like I look at you. It is who I am - greedy for the best thing that life has to offer to me and you are, my love, the best thing that I have wished for. Yes, I am selfish to want you all to myself. By succumbing you to my harshest, meanest laws - without ever thinking about you and your own greediness and selfishness. It was a mistake and for that my love for you forever and always is the price I shall pay by sweats, toil and tears of my soul and body. Sayang, I have chosen you for my greediness and selfishness; I have chosen you to be the world that I show my darkest desires; I have chosen you to be the world that I indulge my fantasies about the brightest days of my life with you as my wife. To live is to choose and to live with you forever is a choice worth taking - for all the happy memories and sad emotions we have fertilised our stories together. Sayang, I want you alone and I am yours alone, too. Let me be your knight, your Protectorate, The man of actions that you wish for me to be and I will serve you; For you are the Queen of my heart.
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