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"rabbis" poems
I get accused of a lot of things at first glance "You're simplistic, you're hiding something You have no convictions, you don't think deeply" Usually by those who I consider to be on intellectual crutches If you're gonna come up to talk to me from a religious context from a spiritual context from a hierarchical, metaphysical, eat this **** popsicle mindset Don't expect me to swallow Don't expect me to talk You won't like what I have to say Because really you just want me to agree with you If you want me to respect your framework When you have nothing but the claims of quacks and the feelings you gleaned from your last psychedelic trip to back you up While I have to sit back and listen to how I'm close minded Close minded for wanting some real truth in this universe unfiltered, raw, verifiable, and in my hand and that anything other than that is a spray paint over my true awakening Then I guess I'll just have to be that ******* to die for these intellectual sins The Eldest Son of Matt, hater of pretense Hypocrite to the highest level Build me up into a figure of idolatry Just like you do with the rest of your ego cases Priests, Gurus, Rabbis, Rockstars, Poet sensations Tell me how wonderful it is to listen to them Tell me how I should be more in touch with a tree Tell me how I don't dream When all my life is but that Tell me how I'm not deep when you make no attempt to learn Who I am, and where I have come from Misinterpret my teachings, and claim me to feel As if I was the newest son of god When all I want is for people to get beyond blinders and love each other, and to get beyond the metaphysical rat race Tell me that I'm supposed to live and let live While you jam your beliefs down my throat and expect me to respect getting philosophically tea bagged Tied up to the crucifix and asking me to repent for my search for truth
0
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
The ******* becomes the martyr
I get accused of a lot of things at first glance "You're simplistic, you're hiding something You have no convictions, you don't think deeply" Usually by those who I consider to be on intellectual crutches If you're gonna come up to talk to me from a religious context from a spiritual context from a hierarchical, metaphysical, eat this **** popsicle mindset Don't expect me to swallow Don't expect me to talk You won't like what I have to say Because really you just want me to agree with you If you want me to respect your framework When you have nothing but the claims of quacks and the feelings you gleaned from your last psychedelic trip to back you up While I have to sit back and listen to how I'm close minded Close minded for wanting some real truth in this universe unfiltered, raw, verifiable, and in my hand and that anything other than that is a spray paint over my true awakening Then I guess I'll just have to be that ******* to die for these intellectual sins The Eldest Son of Matt, hater of pretense Hypocrite to the highest level Build me up into a figure of idolatry Just like you do with the rest of your ego cases Priests, Gurus, Rabbis, Rockstars, Poet sensations Tell me how wonderful it is to listen to them Tell me how I should be more in touch with a tree Tell me how I don't dream When all my life is but that Tell me how I'm not deep when you make no attempt to learn Who I am, and where I have come from Misinterpret my teachings, and claim me to feel As if I was the newest son of god When all I want is for people to get beyond blinders and love each other, and to get beyond the metaphysical rat race Tell me that I'm supposed to live and let live While you jam your beliefs down my throat and expect me to respect getting philosophically tea bagged Tied up to the crucifix and asking me to repent for my search for truth
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42
I love you because the Earth turns round the sun because the North wind blows north sometimes because the Pope is Catholic and most Rabbis Jewish because winters flow into spring and the air clears after a storm because only my love for you despite the charms of gravity keeps me from falling off the Earth into another dimension I love you because it is the natural order of things I love you like the habit I picked up in college of sleeping through lectures or saying I’m sorry when I get stopped for speeding because I drink a glass of water in the morning and chain-smoke cigarettes all through the day because I take my coffee Black and my milk with chocolate because you keep my feet warm through my life a mess I love you because I don’t want it any other way I am helpless in m love for you It makes me so happy to hear you call my name I am amazed you can resist locking me in an echo chamber where your voice reverberates through the four walls sending me into spasmatic ecstasy I love you because it’s been so good for so long that if I didn’t love you I’d have to be born again and that is not a theological statement I am pitiful in my love for you The Dells tell me Love is so simple the thought though of you sends indescribably delicious multitudinous thrills throughout and through-in my body I love you because no two snowflakes are alike and it is possible if you stand tippy-toe to walk between the raindrops I love you because I am afraid of the dark and can’t sleep in the light because I rub my eyes when I wake up in the morning and find you there because you with all your magic powers were determined that I should love you because there was nothing for you but that I would love you I love you because you made me want to love you more than I love my privacy my freedom my commitments and responsibilities I love you 'cause I changed my life to love you because you saw me one friday afternoon and decided that I would love you I love you I love you I love you
0
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 10:21 AM UTC
RESIGNATION
I love you because the Earth turns round the sun because the North wind blows north sometimes because the Pope is Catholic and most Rabbis Jewish because winters flow into spring and the air clears after a storm because only my love for you despite the charms of gravity keeps me from falling off the Earth into another dimension I love you because it is the natural order of things I love you like the habit I picked up in college of sleeping through lectures or saying I’m sorry when I get stopped for speeding because I drink a glass of water in the morning and chain-smoke cigarettes all through the day because I take my coffee Black and my milk with chocolate because you keep my feet warm through my life a mess I love you because I don’t want it any other way I am helpless in m love for you It makes me so happy to hear you call my name I am amazed you can resist locking me in an echo chamber where your voice reverberates through the four walls sending me into spasmatic ecstasy I love you because it’s been so good for so long that if I didn’t love you I’d have to be born again and that is not a theological statement I am pitiful in my love for you The Dells tell me Love is so simple the thought though of you sends indescribably delicious multitudinous thrills throughout and through-in my body I love you because no two snowflakes are alike and it is possible if you stand tippy-toe to walk between the raindrops I love you because I am afraid of the dark and can’t sleep in the light because I rub my eyes when I wake up in the morning and find you there because you with all your magic powers were determined that I should love you because there was nothing for you but that I would love you I love you because you made me want to love you more than I love my privacy my freedom my commitments and responsibilities I love you 'cause I changed my life to love you because you saw me one friday afternoon and decided that I would love you I love you I love you I love you
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78
Zen monks sit quietly on stern pillows of effervescent soul. I do not, My patchwork pillow is filled with styrofoam-- artificial. Hasidic Rabbis rub their tired pious books adding more wear marks from years worrying which appear like a foreign tongue on the cover. My book is full of yellowed, empty pages sitting, dust-ridden on a abandoned shelf. The head of the Shiite rests against solid stone The penitent countenance like a mirror of Mecca. My forehead bears only the reddened mark of my forearm from the vibrant narcolepsy of life. The Atheist sits in the coffee house lecturing the disinterested Baristas about the tomfoolery of religion. I sit alone, nodding sagely, sipping wine that tastes flat against my tongue. What does a depth of spiritual belief offer? There is an unwritten, unquantifiable, essence that belief gives the human. A depth of meaning, like a shot of penicillin to a case of chlamydia.
0
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
Zen Monks
Login Log out Log in again I log into her profile And never log out its nights like these I wish we never met That we wouldn't have made plans That I wouldn't have fooled myself into thinking our future was set The mind might forgive but the heart finds it hard to forget Prolonged hope Minor problems magnified through a mental microscope Spiritual sessions on Sunday with Jewish rabbis Wrote a broken note to the biship who passed it on to the Pope If I can find a new spiritual dealer then maybe I can break away from these mad ties Holding ur hand in China,rainbows at our feet fire flies illuminating the black skies You were the provider of all my high The believer of all my lies N I could never quite stay away from all these thighs I guess you leaving me never did come as a surprise Cloud cover,I had to forget about sunny skies Blue lake of tears Let it all dry up and call it Salt Lake City Meet a nice girl in a summer dress give her a rose n tell her she looks pretty But cheat once she might show mercy do it again and she will show no pity Advice to your current coz if he aint care full he be floating on this boat with me Learning from his mistakes,hiding his face everytime he sees me I can't keep living like this Life is short, I need to live it in bliss You with a smile only a dead man can miss Holding on in the hopes of one last kiss I need a new addiction,cause stalking you is keeping me from the life that I am missing Can't let positivity escape my doubt.. No short cuts to happiness gotta take the longer route I've invested too much I've had enough I'm Login out But for how long A ***** addiction that is so strong A longing for love that is so wrong things to tell at my next therapy session My reoccuring obsession .
0
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 1:53 PM UTC
Reoccuring Obsession
Login Log out Log in again I log into her profile And never log out its nights like these I wish we never met That we wouldn't have made plans That I wouldn't have fooled myself into thinking our future was set The mind might forgive but the heart finds it hard to forget Prolonged hope Minor problems magnified through a mental microscope Spiritual sessions on Sunday with Jewish rabbis Wrote a broken note to the biship who passed it on to the Pope If I can find a new spiritual dealer then maybe I can break away from these mad ties Holding ur hand in China,rainbows at our feet fire flies illuminating the black skies You were the provider of all my high The believer of all my lies N I could never quite stay away from all these thighs I guess you leaving me never did come as a surprise Cloud cover,I had to forget about sunny skies Blue lake of tears Let it all dry up and call it Salt Lake City Meet a nice girl in a summer dress give her a rose n tell her she looks pretty But cheat once she might show mercy do it again and she will show no pity Advice to your current coz if he aint care full he be floating on this boat with me Learning from his mistakes,hiding his face everytime he sees me I can't keep living like this Life is short, I need to live it in bliss You with a smile only a dead man can miss Holding on in the hopes of one last kiss I need a new addiction,cause stalking you is keeping me from the life that I am missing Can't let positivity escape my doubt.. No short cuts to happiness gotta take the longer route I've invested too much I've had enough I'm Login out But for how long A ***** addiction that is so strong A longing for love that is so wrong things to tell at my next therapy session My reoccuring obsession .
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42
Cockroaches in striped pajamas stained by the scent of snow-melted blood under a compassionate moon. No reflection to admire other than the eyes of a thousand miserable and sordid puppets with shaven heads and wooden clogged shoes. God and their souls murdered by a vile evolution, crucibles of Jewish remains. Rabbis and priests, scholars and the poor: moving targets with stars on their sleeves. Naked souls waited, listening to the gods of old Germany. “Zieh dich aus! (Take off your clothes!)” They shouted, pushing them further into the chamber. The doors closed shut behind them. A deathly fog clouded among them, putting them to drown under a thick green darkness. Agonized voices shredded apart as their nails clawed at the concrete walls. Women and children held each other tight, whispering Kaddish, hoping and praying. Twenty minutes of shouting and stumbling, Twenty minutes of spluttering and gargling. The little ones witness the eyes of their guardians writhe and turn white, as their bodies jolted as their lives were stolen. The gods finally entered to clear the room, to pile the dead onto the carts, to visit the crematorium. To finally shovel the mounds of striped clothing, to recycle and burn the rest. But this end comes as a sweet release as their ashes were sent through the chimneys and into the air to rest in their graves.
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Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 3:16 PM UTC
Zakar (זָכַר)
It's a pity about the posies, All ashen and planet-like, controlling The leftover rubber bits of love Erasing emotions of waking up warm with her Solemnly slumbering form When we pluck those mornings and sink our teeth into them. And Their wavy stems ballet up from the earth Blooming into fragile pink tufts like ******* But now their fragrances tell jokes Without the punchlines: Long narratives ultimately pointless. (The priests and rabbis come to you from their bars Collars choking and tallit suffocatingly wrapped round their heads) And The snake, Slithering from thousands of years of pop culture Roots himself in the apple orchards To hide the answers in her ******* And Dairy farms grow up from there And their milk runs down your sloppy chin And in your teeth as you violently suckle And in the tangled paths of your veins as you Ask yourself why you even bother trying When enslaved by a free world .
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Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 12:18 AM UTC
About The Posies
I tried to protect you by not remembering when the rabbis were teachers and preachers we're on the beaches Wishes were had in between sheets Catfish spoken riddles but truthfully Beautiful ripples in ******* So I was going to invite you over for txgiving but all pathology from the dsm-5 was represented. When I say over, I mean to KFC- cousin Larry had to work but all the coleslaw and breadcrumbs you can swallow. How bout you did you get stuffed by the poultry-geist?
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Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 10:17 AM UTC
Cousin Larry @ Txgiving
my whole life everyone tried to annihilate me my spirit my goodness by choosing to laugh at me to bully me the girls my friends in sublte ways that I couldn't see at the time the teachers who called me names who laughed at me, at what they perceived to be " stupid questions " but you couldn't **** my spirit, for I am still here standing coming in to my power finally freer, my whole life they tried to annihilate me my own parents my own brothers my cousins my aunts and uncles my rabbis my friends my exe's who just used me for my body without consent who tried to annihilate my soul from my body everyone tried even many of my therapists who tried to put me away who tried to drug me and close off my voice , and tried to tell me that I was just crazy and mentally ill and messed up but maybe my voice and who I am is so powerful and that's why they all tired to make me go away. But I am still here and I remember it all. I am healing calling  my power back that has been gone from me from the time that I was born and I will not allow myself to be used or abused again! I am here and you can't annihilate me anymore. You can only try to annihilate the goodness of the world but it will always prevail no matter how dark the world and its people get.
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Aug 19, 2023
Aug 19, 2023 at 2:36 PM UTC
Tried to annihilate me.
Shhhhh - Titanic was Sunk by a Bilderberg Albino rabbis, the Illuminati, Protocols of the Elders of Zion - The evidence seemed a little spotty ‘Til a radio guy had us wonderin’ and sighin’ Fluoridation by the New World Order Backed by the Trilateral Commission A scheme to open our southern border To crop circles – that’s his suspicion Area 51, the Templar Knights FEMA lurking in the Bohemian Grove Perfidious Rothschilds through menace and fright Guarding a Jewish-Viking treasure trove Poor Newfoundland is Occupied by ****** rats Who scheme in secret tunnels beneath St. John’s Brewing magic potions in Macbethian vats In Rodentian rituals from the Age of Bronze The Priory of Sion, runes, swastikas, the Vril Roswell and the Thule Society No wonder the air is darkly chill: We all live in a conspiracy!
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Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 3:54 PM UTC
TITANIC was Sunk by a Bilderberg
It's time to get new glasses I can't see right when I read A stronger pair of readers That's exactly what I need I just rented a movie I was appalled at what was on I was getting ready for an epic But, boy, was I wrong I wanted to be enlightened To watch a film that touched my heart But, I knew from the first scene That I was wrong right from the start I need to get new glasses It will make it easier to see And from the mistake with this old movie It will save embarrassment to me I wanted rabbis and bah mitzvahs And the Torah and good news but, I got a **** shark movie Not one about the JEWS!!
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Sep 24, 2012
Sep 24, 2012 at 7:04 PM UTC
I need new glasses
Amendment I. Congress shall make no law respecting the organization of criminal activity, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom to lie, or to print any spurious gossip; or the right of the people angrily to riot & fight in the street opposed by heavily armed State Militia & to overthrow the government in a violent revolution; From hence, drug cartels & gangs are to be thought of as serial killers, each guilty of the crimes of all; as to the corporations' death toll, every employee is guilty & anyone who profits from it; priests, rabbis, cops go on the list w/ Jerry Sandusky & Larry Nassar; female HS teachers & mass shooters were made for each other but chilvery only exists in the movies & on TV; the Confederacy was more forward thinking than the white trash trying to claim its legacy; Greece & Rome had a thriving slave class; we have no idea, but Jim Crow was the polar opposite of the liberal Reconstruction that became contemporary southern US culture w/ [Jimcrowists lurking & working quietly in plain sight]; u can here or u can be there, but u can't be in both places at once
0
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
separation of crime & state
It’s good to be hated!  But I know my name… hate, blackened, misshapen, ugly, unnatural, yet how it clarifies the mind, like a cupped hand carrying clear, cold, brook water to dry mouth, to shock, enliven, resets resets, all your priorities with alacrity, a word I prefer cause it is an intuitive combo of eagerness + alarm, suddenly much of the trivial is no longer worthy of your  ‘to do’ list, you, without thinking, DNA filter your filters, those screens that digest, then reject & reflect the inputs ongoings around you, and you are now reclassified! by the hate surrounding, it declassifies the time wastrels, reinterpreting most everything  on a bipolar scale of  1  or  10, there are no shades, the middle ground of gray be fully eliminated, just like those who wish to eliminate                                                                                    me. in a palette of black or white, your e +e, (essence and existence) cannot be ever a gray area, yes, of course, the sunshine is yellow bright, and the grass is spring flushed green, the multicolored daffodils newly define colors varietal, and the waves of the Sound, roll relentlessly, but hate can be coated, camouflaged and subtle disguised, but we  know, oh how we know, and how we wanted to ***forget, our “sins”, our original liabilities of our multi colored skins, our religion, our race & ethnicity,*** but NOT our names! the Rabbis tell us that God nearly did not keep his promise to Abraham, to rescue his progeny from slavery in Egypt but saved them only because: ‘On account of four things Israel was redeemed from Egypt: they did not change their names, they did not change their language,  they did not speak slander and not even one of them was found to be promiscuous.’^ I know my name; and though you cannot distinguish me by dress, know not my moral life, but now you know my name, given to me by my parents, in the language of my ancestors: Mordecai Netanel ben (son of) Eliyahu Chaim Per my family lore, as told to me by my parents, our family fled from Spain because of the Inquisition (1478), settled in a small town in Germany on the banks of the river Lippe; and from the shtetls of Poland, and those who survived or avoided the Holocaust ultimately left Europe, came here, to the land of the free, the United States of America with names, in their language, with memories intact. I will not flee this country, for I know my true name, inscribed in my pores, in my DNA <> (but should I have to…there is a sanctuary.) May 2 2024
0
May 2, 2024
May 2, 2024 at 9:24 PM UTC
It’s good to be hated! But I know my name...
It’s good to be hated!  But I know my name… hate, blackened, misshapen, ugly, unnatural, yet how it clarifies the mind, like a cupped hand carrying clear, cold, brook water to dry mouth, to shock, enliven, resets resets, all your priorities with alacrity, a word I prefer cause it is an intuitive combo of eagerness + alarm, suddenly much of the trivial is no longer worthy of your  ‘to do’ list, you, without thinking, DNA filter your filters, those screens that digest, then reject & reflect the inputs ongoings around you, and you are now reclassified! by the hate surrounding, it declassifies the time wastrels, reinterpreting most everything  on a bipolar scale of  1  or  10, there are no shades, the middle ground of gray be fully eliminated, just like those who wish to eliminate                                                                                    me. in a palette of black or white, your e +e, (essence and existence) cannot be ever a gray area, yes, of course, the sunshine is yellow bright, and the grass is spring flushed green, the multicolored daffodils newly define colors varietal, and the waves of the Sound, roll relentlessly, but hate can be coated, camouflaged and subtle disguised, but we  know, oh how we know, and how we wanted to ***forget, our “sins”, our original liabilities of our multi colored skins, our religion, our race & ethnicity,*** but NOT our names! the Rabbis tell us that God nearly did not keep his promise to Abraham, to rescue his progeny from slavery in Egypt but saved them only because: ‘On account of four things Israel was redeemed from Egypt: they did not change their names, they did not change their language,  they did not speak slander and not even one of them was found to be promiscuous.’^ I know my name; and though you cannot distinguish me by dress, know not my moral life, but now you know my name, given to me by my parents, in the language of my ancestors: Mordecai Netanel ben (son of) Eliyahu Chaim Per my family lore, as told to me by my parents, our family fled from Spain because of the Inquisition (1478), settled in a small town in Germany on the banks of the river Lippe; and from the shtetls of Poland, and those who survived or avoided the Holocaust ultimately left Europe, came here, to the land of the free, the United States of America with names, in their language, with memories intact. I will not flee this country, for I know my true name, inscribed in my pores, in my DNA <> (but should I have to…there is a sanctuary.) May 2 2024
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60
I want to see the lion's den I want to see that site of immaculate salvation And sit where Daniel sat And breathe the putrid air of stone and bone and moisture and blood I want to see the ovens of Nebuchadnezzar And, wrapping myself in an onion skin shield of veiled promises and condemnations, throw myself in Take me to the killing fields And, casting off my clothes, let me wade through the blood of decent men Slain to appease their Savior But take me away from Allah's bomb tinkerers Away from the hate groups born from Christ's love Away from the stone throwing rabbis of the Old City For I have seen these things and know they exist No, take me to the lion's den Take me to the king's ovens And lock the door
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Dec 12, 2010
Dec 12, 2010 at 6:21 PM UTC
But Deliver Us From Evil
get away from me all you fools store owners underpaid store clerks delivery people disgruntled factory workers bosses know it alls child molesting priests rabbis loud mouthed reverends strippers track armed hookers pimps johns who's wife won't give it up teachers shady lawyers pill poppin' doctors nurses kids with colds old people with dementia ***** dogs feral cats evil grandmas perverted grandpas street sweepers ***** garbage men slick bartenders waitresses drunk people people high on life dope heads meat heads sober judges all of you go to hell in a handbasket and let me live my life in peace.
0
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 7:40 PM UTC
a rant
oh right... no social criticism... just a bomb will do? mm, yes, a bomb will fair much better... no social criticism... and only the political class are allowed a backdrop of satire... now i have to be thankful for a 7 year old schizophrenic simulator, the "inability" of the medical profession to misdiagnose... oh yes... i'm really thankful for all of that. philosophy and its rigid vocabulary, clutters up the range of ****** expressions, scientific atheism is still measuring the non-existence of something via the occator crater of ceres as: ah... look at that... a cute puppy! enlaraged eyes of a kitten pleading! ooh ah! so so cute! mm. actually, in #a, philosophy is the original divination of divisions - centimetre in man to distinguish him into a spider-web project of thinking, feeling, consciousness, sentience, animate, zombie, it cuts cuts in, slashes away at so many meanings, you end up with shorthand of 140 character allowances - so this scientific negativism - i can't see any scientific positivism right now, calling something cute as a puppy will not really do justice to the measure of things, unlike atheism in humanism, where the projection of will is paramount to define life, of how one human influences another, if at all, atheism only matters in how humans politicise, i love the fanciful individualist definition that does not really wish to congregate... and there we have it: atypical to the English, the invention of utilitarianism, the best moral action is to be polite, or simply nice, to say 'yes, thank you' and 'no, thank you', to say sorry a lot when commuting in the tube... ah, mm, oh... and the other grand pillar of utilitarianism? REMEMBER PERSONAL SPACE... well spinoza could tell you a lot about this principle when the rabbis ****** him: about how people were not supposed to stand at a certain distance near him... sardine **** of human sweat on the tube during rush-hour.
0
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 9:55 AM UTC
the occator crater of ceres
oh right... no social criticism... just a bomb will do? mm, yes, a bomb will fair much better... no social criticism... and only the political class are allowed a backdrop of satire... now i have to be thankful for a 7 year old schizophrenic simulator, the "inability" of the medical profession to misdiagnose... oh yes... i'm really thankful for all of that. philosophy and its rigid vocabulary, clutters up the range of ****** expressions, scientific atheism is still measuring the non-existence of something via the occator crater of ceres as: ah... look at that... a cute puppy! enlaraged eyes of a kitten pleading! ooh ah! so so cute! mm. actually, in #a, philosophy is the original divination of divisions - centimetre in man to distinguish him into a spider-web project of thinking, feeling, consciousness, sentience, animate, zombie, it cuts cuts in, slashes away at so many meanings, you end up with shorthand of 140 character allowances - so this scientific negativism - i can't see any scientific positivism right now, calling something cute as a puppy will not really do justice to the measure of things, unlike atheism in humanism, where the projection of will is paramount to define life, of how one human influences another, if at all, atheism only matters in how humans politicise, i love the fanciful individualist definition that does not really wish to congregate... and there we have it: atypical to the English, the invention of utilitarianism, the best moral action is to be polite, or simply nice, to say 'yes, thank you' and 'no, thank you', to say sorry a lot when commuting in the tube... ah, mm, oh... and the other grand pillar of utilitarianism? REMEMBER PERSONAL SPACE... well spinoza could tell you a lot about this principle when the rabbis ****** him: about how people were not supposed to stand at a certain distance near him... sardine **** of human sweat on the tube during rush-hour.
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41
Shaman's see visions of heinous onslaught, No pormonteaus of buried boon!!! Priests and rabbis lick thine clothe, Ebbing closer to emptied rooms!!! Young girls and boys burlesque in their costumes, Mother and father do buck, Living in hell in thine own living room, Fast lives, cars and trucks! Aphrodisiacs they put in their vein, Tears dry the carpets, Entertainers dance in thy rain, Moribund, still a lonesome carcass!!! Covetednous, they've made as their gods, Fast foods, no life, Intimance gone!!!! A band to wear with crested jewels, Yet what art they with no meaning? Say thy affiance all that thou wilt, Still stuck in the land of the dreaming!!!! Mutagens and fabricators to selves, Clouds come with no pour down, The poor line the street for the corner spells, Doeth you giveth them love? Or throw them in cells? Devotee to Christ, Hath thou given advice? Yet still taketh not thy own? Your bloods spilt to the mass of drules, Still dont want to be alone!!! Trammels your in, In trammels you'll sin, In trammels you will die or awake once again!!!!
0
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
novissima hora est. ( the end is near) latin tounge
A new search is ongoing, with Israeli chemists on a trek; they seek find the color of God, which was formerly called tekhelet. Is its significance a harbinger of future Messianic times? Can the rabbis or scientists decipher this dividing line? It’s an enigmatic shade of blue that represents God’s infinity caught between the color spectrum of visible light and invisibility. Some experts believe the source, (though the origin is unknown), may be the secretive creatures of antiquity called… the hillazon. Based on some vague descriptions, its body resembles the ocean; can Levitical trade secrets be exposed with the clarity of resolution? This divine azure is a key color, of the high priest’s holy vestments; for this serves as a reminder to keep and honor God’s law and commandments. Allow the penetrating light of God to serve as a transforming catalyst; though this mystery of life is unfinished, know that faith is not an accident. Open my eyes Lord, that I may see the royal blue of Your sea and observe Your sea of the sky, that depicts the colored backdrop of the holy throne belonging to Adonai. . . . Author Notes: Loosely based on: Num 15:38-39 and an episode of the Naked Archaeologist; as part of the dye making process, direct sunlight is required and serves as a catalyst to modify the color pigment at the atomic level. Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
0
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 11:02 AM UTC
Poem: The Color of YHWH
A new search is ongoing, with Israeli chemists on a trek; they seek find the color of God, which was formerly called tekhelet. Is its significance a harbinger of future Messianic times? Can the rabbis or scientists decipher this dividing line? It’s an enigmatic shade of blue that represents God’s infinity caught between the color spectrum of visible light and invisibility. Some experts believe the source, (though the origin is unknown), may be the secretive creatures of antiquity called… the hillazon. Based on some vague descriptions, its body resembles the ocean; can Levitical trade secrets be exposed with the clarity of resolution? This divine azure is a key color, of the high priest’s holy vestments; for this serves as a reminder to keep and honor God’s law and commandments. Allow the penetrating light of God to serve as a transforming catalyst; though this mystery of life is unfinished, know that faith is not an accident. Open my eyes Lord, that I may see the royal blue of Your sea and observe Your sea of the sky, that depicts the colored backdrop of the holy throne belonging to Adonai. . . . Author Notes: Loosely based on: Num 15:38-39 and an episode of the Naked Archaeologist; as part of the dye making process, direct sunlight is required and serves as a catalyst to modify the color pigment at the atomic level. Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
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45
and as the western slavs took to roman calibration and the eastern slavs took to reinterpreting greek with cyrillic, both the eastern and the western slavs lost sight of their pagan "ordeal" by forgetting their once fabled fathers in the stately category of gods, so while the eastern slavs continued to cling so desperately to woman kneeling in shawls by the altar of "innocent" sacrifice, the western slavs experienced a pagan revival on calton hill - so within all this being done, roman lettering had to undue the theological plagiarism of turning zeus into jupiter and jesus into jehovah on that mighty trident of poseidon. (oh... is it really that desperate and annoying and childish to use these nouns? i'd like to see you replace zeus et al. with: hydroxypropyl starch phosphate... or sodium lauroamphoacetate, although i admit, there's one rational and scientific concession to this, zeus et al. are all imaginary nouns, a bit like √-1ª.) on the shore of loch lomond i was seduced by zeus to revive polytheism in earnest with a stern gazing eye, for zeus heard of the satisfaction of yahweh(ª although this noun isn't... because why would rabbis pain over yhwh with ha ha he he hi hi hu hu ** ** disambiguations, while the greeks didn't ze ze za za is is us us es es os os zi zi zu zu but instead allowed aristotelian musings?) at the establishment of the state of israel, (ah **** had the pictures once... but words are better than pictures since pictures are a blockage of memory’s revival while words penetrate - although the damnable thing is, i don’t remember what i said) then too i saw hades seal the revival having turned himself into cerberus in the forest of my resentments unnamed just above bedford’s forest.
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Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 11:46 AM UTC
sodium lauroamphoacetate / √-1
and as the western slavs took to roman calibration and the eastern slavs took to reinterpreting greek with cyrillic, both the eastern and the western slavs lost sight of their pagan "ordeal" by forgetting their once fabled fathers in the stately category of gods, so while the eastern slavs continued to cling so desperately to woman kneeling in shawls by the altar of "innocent" sacrifice, the western slavs experienced a pagan revival on calton hill - so within all this being done, roman lettering had to undue the theological plagiarism of turning zeus into jupiter and jesus into jehovah on that mighty trident of poseidon. (oh... is it really that desperate and annoying and childish to use these nouns? i'd like to see you replace zeus et al. with: hydroxypropyl starch phosphate... or sodium lauroamphoacetate, although i admit, there's one rational and scientific concession to this, zeus et al. are all imaginary nouns, a bit like √-1ª.) on the shore of loch lomond i was seduced by zeus to revive polytheism in earnest with a stern gazing eye, for zeus heard of the satisfaction of yahweh(ª although this noun isn't... because why would rabbis pain over yhwh with ha ha he he hi hi hu hu ** ** disambiguations, while the greeks didn't ze ze za za is is us us es es os os zi zi zu zu but instead allowed aristotelian musings?) at the establishment of the state of israel, (ah **** had the pictures once... but words are better than pictures since pictures are a blockage of memory’s revival while words penetrate - although the damnable thing is, i don’t remember what i said) then too i saw hades seal the revival having turned himself into cerberus in the forest of my resentments unnamed just above bedford’s forest.
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I keep waking up to sunsets Affinity for the moon I suppose. the fireflies, cold air. I've felt happier at night my whole life Sitting in elementery school popcorn reading Headphones plugged into a PSP Blaring mindless self iindulgence Putting me to sleep through the day So I could level up my nightelf hunter in World of Warcraft until 5am And sleep through social anxiety. For awhile I woke up at 4am to serve you coffee. Seven years addicted I loved that too. Traded coca-cola for drinking it black My coffees color is the smog in Chicago This nightlife is my real addiction. That's why I love the graveyard shift. Devouring untold stories assisted living facilities. This Goldmine of consentrated Wisdom Parkinsons Orchestra Doctorates. Politicians prepared for Death Rabbis still flirting with nurses remembering the whole torah service by heart forgetting their wives name. For my sunset I like to imagine a big desk A wall of glass The top of a grey tower. I want to Birth a skyscraper. I want to stand staring out my wall of window back turned to my coffee cup watch how beautiful stasis can be when you shatter through it. I like to pretend each sunset Is a death that wasn't mine. I like to count the deaths in assisted living As sunsets. I like to read obituaries like sunsets. I keep waking up To sunsets
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Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 9:54 AM UTC
Sunsets
On Hello Poetry, they are all the rage, See them each day trend for awful sake. Massive egos with single digit readerships, Their whole purpose on HP is puff-fakery. The pests shure love their odd, fake names, To comment on themselves, how very lame. Look at them but do not, seriously read, Each poem they write is but a base need. A bad yearning to fill their empty souls, Please don't 'like' them - it's rather old. Shiftless and hollow are their fleabag pleas, Wannabes will always, pathetically, wanna be. Some pests like to pose they are dying, All pests fake they are meaningful, crying. Some pests pretend to be smart as Rabbis, Writing wisdomless couplets endearing swine. Some pests pretend to be noble as wolves, Feeding their sheep the ranks of their stools. Most pests on HP are prodigious sycophants, First they love, love you until another chants. Fly-by-nighters are all the brown-nosed pests, Wallowing in the very dirts they feign protest. If you see a pest on the sad pages playing, Just ignore them, they may soon go awaying.
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Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
Pests So Pitiful
I closed my eyes today to meditate And of course the flow began That endless stream of words But this time is was of a different kind It was a strong rush rush of forgotten words that loomed over me And whilst still breathing I started sweating For it was the scent of an old world Those words Of rigidity and rust; rules and atrophy Layers and layers of shame A world so deeply rooted; tied with a thick rope To the words that built it I tried to get the flow of words to halter So as to not evoke the emotions stitched into those idioms Flooding into consciousness I've spent years toiling To create a universe sprouted from new words So what could this be but an utter attack on my new reality But they become an outpour, the words This sort of multi-sensory experience… and I'm fixed to them with glue To the fiery words like Tznuis, Bas Melech, Shidduchim That I'd heard all too many times Because I'm only a women The rabbis would tell me And my hands were meant for baking bread My ******* for giving milk Never really mine at all And also the Tume, Trief, Off the Derech, Goyim Words that rang into my ears constantly   Maybe because they were always said, or maybe because These were words I couldn’t close my ears off to hearing But I hear them again now even louder Painting a purity and an impurity An us and a them A superiority and racism Endless hierarchies But then the good words began to flood my mind The Zmiros, Little Tzadikel, Kinderlech Words that built the sounds of my family singing The Love and shelter Joyous togetherness The simple Simplicity The words that know for real Mashiach will come Then there were the greetings The Good Yontifs, Gut Vach's Because who are we but one large social unit Bound by the words we share And the Boruch Hashem's, Kneina Hara's Secured that the bad things don’t get too bad And the good things don’t ruin themselves The flow of words continued Like a tragic comedy A bad and a good And a nothing and a everything The grief of a lost innocence; the shadow of brick walls But I remembered that joy of breathing deep into my uncaged lungs Accessing a fresh new whiff of clean air For I have built a world of new words A new vocabulary of Words like Mind, Body, Spirit ****** freedom Intersectionality, Sustainability Kindred Souls Unity Compassion Holding the Space But what to do when the flow of an old world Built so powerfully by its words Strikes at me suddenly Unexpected And all the new words I've forged don’t seem to matter At all
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Jul 23, 2020
Jul 23, 2020 at 8:48 PM UTC
Old words and new words
I closed my eyes today to meditate And of course the flow began That endless stream of words But this time is was of a different kind It was a strong rush rush of forgotten words that loomed over me And whilst still breathing I started sweating For it was the scent of an old world Those words Of rigidity and rust; rules and atrophy Layers and layers of shame A world so deeply rooted; tied with a thick rope To the words that built it I tried to get the flow of words to halter So as to not evoke the emotions stitched into those idioms Flooding into consciousness I've spent years toiling To create a universe sprouted from new words So what could this be but an utter attack on my new reality But they become an outpour, the words This sort of multi-sensory experience… and I'm fixed to them with glue To the fiery words like Tznuis, Bas Melech, Shidduchim That I'd heard all too many times Because I'm only a women The rabbis would tell me And my hands were meant for baking bread My ******* for giving milk Never really mine at all And also the Tume, Trief, Off the Derech, Goyim Words that rang into my ears constantly   Maybe because they were always said, or maybe because These were words I couldn’t close my ears off to hearing But I hear them again now even louder Painting a purity and an impurity An us and a them A superiority and racism Endless hierarchies But then the good words began to flood my mind The Zmiros, Little Tzadikel, Kinderlech Words that built the sounds of my family singing The Love and shelter Joyous togetherness The simple Simplicity The words that know for real Mashiach will come Then there were the greetings The Good Yontifs, Gut Vach's Because who are we but one large social unit Bound by the words we share And the Boruch Hashem's, Kneina Hara's Secured that the bad things don’t get too bad And the good things don’t ruin themselves The flow of words continued Like a tragic comedy A bad and a good And a nothing and a everything The grief of a lost innocence; the shadow of brick walls But I remembered that joy of breathing deep into my uncaged lungs Accessing a fresh new whiff of clean air For I have built a world of new words A new vocabulary of Words like Mind, Body, Spirit ****** freedom Intersectionality, Sustainability Kindred Souls Unity Compassion Holding the Space But what to do when the flow of an old world Built so powerfully by its words Strikes at me suddenly Unexpected And all the new words I've forged don’t seem to matter At all
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76
Affinity for the moon I suppose. the fireflies cold air. I've felt happier at night my whole life Sitting in elementery popcorn reading Headphones plugged into a PSP Blaring mindless self iindulgence Putting me to sleep So I could level up my nightelf hunter in World of Warcraft watch Naruto until 5am And sleep through social anxiety. For awhile I woke up at 4am to serve you coffee. Seven years addicted I loved that too. Traded coca cola for bkack coffee And an eating disorder Now Im a graveyard shift worker. Manjc smirking at untold stories in assisted living Goldmine of consentrated Wisdom Parkinsons orchestra Doctorates Politicians preparing for death Rabbis still flirting with nurses and remembering the whoke torah service by heart When they cant remember their wives name. Wives of Men that played god until they met him. Breifly Before the trap door unlatched For my death. I like to imagine a big desk A wall of glass The top of a grey tower. I want to Birth a skyscraper. I want to stand staring out my wall of window back turned to my desk. And watch how beautiful stasis can be As the trap door caves beneath me for my sins. I want to leave someone behind to tell my story. My journal is someone. I'm a night owl I am alive most when the world is either sinning or silent And I refuse to die quietly. Or before I get my Desk. Or my window. To watch the sun rise and fall But never stay. I am not meant to watch things last forever. I am a night owl. I enjoy this world for all the endings. This is my favorite part.
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Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 12:51 AM UTC
Night owl
Affinity for the moon I suppose. the fireflies cold air. I've felt happier at night my whole life Sitting in elementery popcorn reading Headphones plugged into a PSP Blaring mindless self iindulgence Putting me to sleep So I could level up my nightelf hunter in World of Warcraft watch Naruto until 5am And sleep through social anxiety. For awhile I woke up at 4am to serve you coffee. Seven years addicted I loved that too. Traded coca cola for bkack coffee And an eating disorder Now Im a graveyard shift worker. Manjc smirking at untold stories in assisted living Goldmine of consentrated Wisdom Parkinsons orchestra Doctorates Politicians preparing for death Rabbis still flirting with nurses and remembering the whoke torah service by heart When they cant remember their wives name. Wives of Men that played god until they met him. Breifly Before the trap door unlatched For my death. I like to imagine a big desk A wall of glass The top of a grey tower. I want to Birth a skyscraper. I want to stand staring out my wall of window back turned to my desk. And watch how beautiful stasis can be As the trap door caves beneath me for my sins. I want to leave someone behind to tell my story. My journal is someone. I'm a night owl I am alive most when the world is either sinning or silent And I refuse to die quietly. Or before I get my Desk. Or my window. To watch the sun rise and fall But never stay. I am not meant to watch things last forever. I am a night owl. I enjoy this world for all the endings. This is my favorite part.
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