Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Alyanne Cooper Jun 2014
Rough tactile callouses.
Jointed mischief collaborators.
Twisted knuckly punishers.
Wrinkled hills and valleys.
Capability embodied.
Sensuality expressed.
Love experienced.
Life recorded.
Dancing Phalanges.
Don't Exist Aug 2014
The Real Battle Starts
Right After all the surviving troops leave
when only soulless bodies of Earth
Remains

In a horrific state of purgatory
who are now suffering the consequences
for their sins

The Mushrooms and Bacteria
judge these bodies
As they decomposed the remains
testing the quality of life

The Crows are the punishers
picking at the remains like a wild carcass in Africa
tearing limb from limb
supporting their own families

And those bodies that had decomposed peacefully
left for the awakening

The darkness pass
The sins are dissolve
but once again chaos is caused

But it is ascertain
that those Bacteria and Crows
and Purgatory
is waiting.
A simple poem
Kim Essary Oct 2020
The hurt and sadness coming from your voice is ripping at my heart like a jagged knife ripping through flesh
You are mine to protect and nurture and that box made of steel that you are caged in remains my every nightmare as I sleep and my weakness in my thoughts while I’m awake
A young man with eyes that glisten and a beautiful face of an angel, the heart that’s pure and giving
Yet you made some wrong choices but not deserving to be slammed behind bars in a cold cell and treated like a beast of rage
My expression of fury at my fingertips for if I was evil as they, surely I would cast every sinful spell across their beings and make them feel your pain
**** those that pass yet judgement yet hold no crown of thorns upon their head
For He that cast the first stone let him stand in judgement free of sin
For the Laws of this wicked world all turned to the evils of bribery and political gain as there is no longer a man that sits to hold true to the laws that are written for of the greater the judge feels as though he himself can unwrite and interfere with the laws of our God and pick which laws and sentence for the same crime yet treat them different
Stand with your armor as it isn’t seen my son for is the coming of our dear Lord and savior to be the punishers And the  Judge of the wickedness that per-trays to call themself some part of Law and Order as Our God is so much Greater as they will soon see.
There is no rightful judicial system left remaining in this world
Jas Apr 2017
Welcome to the city of bridges, shellfish and pearls!
Culture surrounds
the Tree of lives and smiles
Tortured souls foraging for a taste of
Perky life in the abandoned jail -
An aesthetic image on a postcard that cut my hand.

My spirit of childhood, the feeling of desperation
Soils the ink of perfection -
If man can create paradise
My sins are forgotten and I am a witness, I have made it;
I am in Charleston.

Welcome to the home of dissension and limitation
Where people like me have yet to be set free
Though brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers marry on the field of ancestry
Where the punishers and gapers intrude on the homes of ghosts, tasteful photography
Take your shoes off before you step through the glamour
Welcome to Charleston!
Inspired by Marcus Amaker
Melissa Rose Oct 2017
Court is now in session
With gavel in hand
We are the Jury
And justice we demand

No you cannot plead your case
We’ve heard it all before
We find you guilty on all accounts
and sentence you once more

Your life hangs in the balance
What punishment will you receive?
We the judges;  the all mighty
Won’t offer you reprieve

We are far from perfect
But won’t ever let you know
Why we turn a blind eye
To the persecution we bestow

Judgment is a reflection
of the punishers’ history
and the condemnation
appointed by their own jury

It is all so wry
And plain to see
We the Jury are the punished
And these prisoners will never set you free
10/13/17  -Reflecting upon how we (society) judges, have been judged ourselves and how the cycle still continues.
FDTA Dec 2020
**** Four a day and they're not on the hit list

They say with open arms but closed palms
Maybe a donation, but with ----------------------------------------------------------
We don't talk about the hate anymore
It doesn’t impress the press.


‘’We are on your side with the wealth of a nation…''

Disappointment is just that  



Vacuous.

Like enemy soldiers wearing your uniform,
Offering to load your rifle.

Profiteer pioneers,
Our Pilate and punishers.
Convenience buys our lenience.
But the paints run thin
rusted , chipped off.
We see you sweating and steaming.

Be or don’t, but the fog must go, it’s down our throats

In our face

Around our eyes.

It makes all the young cry so why?


Democracy is made a mockery when honesty is hollow as is the sorrow.

Do not follow leaders who pull you by the lead.
Ken Pepiton May 2
Tuesday, April 29, 2025
2:50 AM

Eyes burning green reflecting patterns
yawns feel tied to FTA, so these lines un
fold from feeling real enough to think may
be
why, be, ah, woken to guard the gate, say
who goes there, what is the word, say it,

-- allegorical experience parable
literal transfer of call and response, say it…

              sibbolet slogan shibboleth battle cry,
slay all whose dialect makes no sense by
shushing discomfited infants,…
ah, poet, weeping

might becomes can as we agree, touching

any thing whatsoever, in fact or fixed faith,

saying our concern for another's demise is praying
merciful transference of sovreign authority, in death.

We, say the news criers on television, are praying
for the fan we all may have seen fall from the stands,
or we may, today, in case we were not paying attention,
at the crack of the bat,
to the shirtless supplicant
offering himself, beer baptized,
reacting to divine luck dispensation
hoh-ee trying
to umph the jinx
on the fly,
that went by driving
in the eventual win,
made sacred, truly special, for the show,
of life-long efforting  honed Team Spirit,
this is what worshippers expect, eh,
good national tickets cheap seats…

the battle of chosen hitter-catchers
paying
to baseball's Tychicus spirits
ecstatic over a two run double
in the bottom of the seventh…
lethargic faith, relaxed reasonable reaction…

pray according to pattern,
signal all watching, see how we do, real athletes pray.
America relies on prayer signals to the athletic supporters.


Players from both teams, including Andrew McCutchen, took a knee and prayed for the fan.
Wholey reality, grant
redemption based on dedication to mere display reaction…
to the winning RBI… last act of mystical absorption,
made sacred…

as far as all the time in the world is worth,
whole days dosed at max, world's worths,
worshipped in spirit and truth, fleeting…

rise up in the middle of the night, worthship,

yawns and torrents of sneezes, these are those
vigils required of the loyal slave mind, serving pollen,

time Tyche tachometer I
might say I got out of bed to breathe,
but I had wanted to ask LBAIQ, Leo, Brave Answering
Informal Quest… iron sharpens iron… notion notes

The Red Spot, also known as the Great Red Spot,
is a persistent anticyclonic storm
on Jupiter.
It is a giant storm that has been raging
for centuries, and it is indeed a permanent feature
on the planet.

Initially, it was thought that the Red Spot rotated
with the planet, but observations have shown that it actually rotates
in the opposite direction
to Jupiter's rotation.

This is known as a "retrograde" rotation.

The Red Spot's rotation period is
about 4 days, which is faster than Jupiter's 10-hour rotation period.
This means that the storm's winds are moving
in the opposite direction to the planet's rotation, creating a fascinating and complex weather pattern.

oops, factcheck friendly, just asking, no need to prove the lie told there,
just ius lucky us friendly sky united

dokimazó: to test, by impl. to approve

From <https://biblehub.com/greek/1381a.htm>

okeh. Many years pass, with us all granting authorized intercessory,
extra tis bits years
past so fast, years

nights and days, beautiful mysteries, that AI legally is not accountable,
for hoo-mon stop. See, let me ask another way

A rotation period of 4 days is actually much slower than a 10-hour rotation period.
To clarify, the Red Spot's rotation period is about 4 days,
which means it takes the storm approximately 4 days
to complete one rotation
on its own axis. Meanwhile, Jupiter's rotation period is about 10 hours,
which is much shorter.
So, the Red Spot's rotation is actually slower than Jupiter's rotation, not faster.

It can be perceived, that gas giant, seen as we may, these days,
using science consciously slicing sense of usefulness from cost,

Dabar, the sword in the mouth of 'Zekial,
sitting by the Chebar  freight canal,
working for a living, counting kegs,
swinging amphora tight round pegs.
fitting snug below the rowers, squares in tiers of three,

got the picture, Ben Hur,
amuse a politically minded hoo-mon to tell a story of the Christ,

many such were told, used to tame the savage, who could not read.

I've never finished anything permanent, no regrets.

I learned insomnia is me fretting about losing my religion, oh, no\

we've said too much, we've made the means of making reason, oh,
ratio, heft to use, too

heavy on the break break, brake, slow BLAPlapblapblap Jake engaged/


Middle of the night, 04:02. Worth your time, I hopeso/

Confluent opinions swirl
the opposing superstitions's stormfronts
roiling common sensed

selfishness, into team spirit, companion
same bread by which our flesh derives umph

wherewith to try, for the joy we all may win,
for merely surviving, living past all war's reasons.

Casus jus belligerence, train up a child, a boy,
at the basic foundational division of command
authority,

Momma said Poppa said

time passed and son's disagreed,
before daughter's I'd imagine, mostly,

though, now that I insert the possible variable,
we, the partially Disneyified, having lived during
the era of television for children and the whole

family of loyal customers, gratefully entertained,
using industrial scale magic, science not false, oh no.

Well, now, pilgrim,
here's a fine

how do you do…
being you, hatless in space.

_ this is an excerpt ADVERTISING LONGFORM
_ this is a wild idea befriended long ago

we… who finish this thought agree, ever
before time to right this instant, then ever

some more. Peace is easier to sell,
happy people make happiness work,
whatsoever
we agree,
we may

can you dig it. ai jumer, wordswirleration

Trust the river through the rapids, run
knowing there is always where we
step into the Jello…

and conjugalmentalbliss.

Confluent course through
out and in, conscience consensus as we

slow no just if I agreed with your missed
conceptual precept made Isaiah essential
gnosis, discipline come, let us reason, why

of course you comprehend original sin, eh,
ask any trusted source, at base, this idea,

is culturally, in our species, according
to science in context of us, me thinking,

your patience, or your acquired taste,
ends when either has become convinced,

won over to believing slow thinking allows,

reasoning, adjustments, to just mentalize
realization words augment, intend to stretch,

pretend we sold our three bags of wool, long
novel rides in past and present allegorical dust
I used to say, iusagree, in spirit if not truth
agree, at minimum, we agree, the state
of actual participation
in peace making,
is a far better state
mind expanding knowledge…

accounting

for each idle word, measured
by how long one thinks any word lives
after
meaning anything
in particular for your peace.

It's a book, your life is.
A book, not a poem,
not a short stack of lines rising
from the top,
stalactite-like sclerosis forming course
drip trailing evidence, pillars
top to tip, dripping sweet
persuasion, water call
falling drip of what we thought,

as we build a chaotic pillar of crystal reflection,
convincing any ever yet
looking back, learning then, when first believed,

the darkness, lightlessness, when the why is told,
the deathly hallowedness, truth enforces as told.

-------------------------
Grand Canyon Caverns, mile mark 115.

Stores of stuff few ever learn, few
at global scale we circa 2025, few

mental utilizers know the experience,
more than a million most expectedly less
than a billion, of which we now are nearer ten,
than eight billions of us, our kind capable affects,

efforts expressing sense of us, our kind thinking

we may or may not plan any given day, yet we
think we may lay plans for the course
of human events,
wherein we find
ourselves paying mind, and heed, drips

indeed, of course, we must, we were mustered,
as punishers, the right thinkers, core-orthogonal,
as mustard faith leads eventually to cauliflower

upright mind hat tipt, in passing fancy, wonder if…

what if we agree to enjoy an after life, no worries.

---- the wish words be having
reader behaviour… be thinking

In science you must not talk before you know.
In art you must not talk before you do.
In literature you must not talk before you think.
--
In order that people may be happy
in their work, these three things are needed:
they must be fit for it;
they must not do too much of it;
and they must have a sense of success in it.

[ both maxims of Ruskin's, "The Eagle's Nest," 1872]

Done, that's not all, but the esoteric efforting, back when,
the mind, Psyche, was about to be plumbed, leading thinkers,

lacked the precepts upon which precepts approaching perpetual

emotion, haps all working together for good, finally, finished,

as when the work assigned is done, and looked upon, we think.

That's good. Functionable ratio of push and pull, life

breathing with us, in chorus.

You may need to find a solitary place and listen daily,
for fifty years, I know a guy who did, he says,
to this day, after fifty years on this way,

this pilgrim journey children cannot walk, this last mile,
when we walk contented to think, in truth, I can do this  forever.
I meant to begin in the middle but allowed the day it's due, I did get out of bed for this...

— The End —