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Wilson Jan 2015
Airs : Tuesday, at 20:00 on FOX
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Plot Overview :
After Rachel's humiliating failure as TV actress, she comes home to Lima to figure out what she wants to do next. Upon discovering that Sue has banished the arts at McKinley, Rachel takes it upon herself to reinstate and lead the Glee Club. Meanwhile, Blaine, no longer in a relationship with Kurt, has moved home to coach the Warblers while Will is coaching rival Vocal Adrenaline, and Sam is the assistant coach for the McKinley football team.
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~Premiere~ Glee Season 6 Episode 1 "Loser Like Me" FULL Episode 6x1
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2016
lessons in graffiti, or the Pinocchio giraffe;
and was the H absolutely necessary
when otherwise asking of a cappuccino
or at your local caf? evidently there was distinction
with the mocha too, but that won't matter,
otherwise the language isn't used... but abused.

lessons in graffiti, or other confectionary products,
while you ooze the shopping experience
on your daily commute,
       *skittels
on brickwork with the origins
of the #, cut short by simply the graffiti tag,
      you wrote tag, without the collective hash,
  not so much noughts and crosses gaming,
or remembering your phone number,
                  here graffiti: or the rekindling of
trademarks in the urban scenic bypass,
or: truly under the bridge.
             writing on money does very little:
but writing on newspapers? that say a lot,
the odd day i write something on a newspaper
review section and feel almighty -
        which is much more than the rage against
the machine instructions are about:
   write a message on a penny, it's still a penny,
write a message on a dollar, it's still a dollar,
but write a message on a newspaper:
you's basically encapsulating shouting at a protest!
() hence the picture.
             r.s. (receptui scriptum):
         i never knew whether the dot belonged in
the ). or the .) part of encapsulation, if that's to be
worded or acutely pill-sized embryo,
that bypasses the oesophagus workout before
the hydrochloric gym acidity.
   how is one to make science human again?
how is one to make science lessened in the Frankenstein
myth and the ostracized ostrich citizens
that scientists very much so, actually are?
       my notes on the matter?
non-existent: i see the feminist movement
i.e. there are more women than men as such
as not a case of **** culture, but as a case of "i'm not
getting any!" call in the Vikings,
mind you, even the supermarket cashier looked
astounded in between Friday and Saturday,
  on Friday a litre of whiskey
    on Saturday a litre of whiskey...
and some men climb the Everest or walk the moon...
while some envision their liver
as a Klitschko - the tetragrammaton exists only
because people made aesthetic suggestions / blunders,
it's a suggestion in the sur- or what's otherwise a surd /
a silent nonetheless inserted atom of sprechen:
like Nietzsche and Klitschko: you say less than you
write... out pops the tetragrammaton -
        if ever Caesar Octavian needed a teacher
my vanity suggests i'd done better teaching him
than Aristotle teaching Alexander, or Seneca teaching
Nero...
                  it's all down to excessive spelling, or
the keeping up of appearances, or simply looking
bizarre, and like in mathematics, there's a remainder,
what yhwh represents is in linguistic terms
as in mathematical terms: what's left over, scraps...
see it differently and it becomes gold:
five fish, two loaves of bread sort of scenario.
                           it's a remainder -
it cannot be eradicated, denied or be left into a limbo
of diminished responsibility
      it's man concern with how language should
look and how painting should feel:
               the fact that we created art from letters
and forgot our concern for art representing forms
is not postmodernism, it's post-Platonism; finally!
of course the s and the z are the crude and the refined
versions of each other via the transition of
being modulated by the chirality enzyme,
          but they're still called zigzag twins -
there's no delta involved akin to one face of a pyramid.
how grand then, to be living in a time
when a single phonetic encoding of sound
transcends into complex meaning:
akin to s and sigma and what's mathematically
the sum / total of constipated matter...
                    strange how the Cartesian model
falters thus,
           the fact that i think is never the ending
causality of my being's summation:
           it's but a summary, but never the summation /
sum - it's never the arithmetically sound answer:
hence the god-implant, or as i said:
the remainder, which i can't erase from the realm
of thought.
                 by the way? no Jew could have wrote as
much about their god as i have:
as said: the crucifixion was worthwhile,
      but there was no question that Latin had
to remain -
                     what was saved was the Latin encoding,
not some puny redemption from doing ****...
**** no! you couldn't create robotics or write
software without Latin: no other encoding has as
many "blank" hula hoops as already provided:
Q, R, o, P, p, A, a, D, d, g, b, B...
        26 x 2? 52 - and of those how many are spies
that we are descended from the gods and can
create our slowly-ascending replicas in robotics?
as the list suggests: 12.
     should i call up St. Peter and the rest to work
out the ******* numbers of correlation in
the framework of mirror / anti?
                      ah, the eagerly waiting public:
speak of the devil... and he shall appear.
      that ****'s been going on since the death of a man
in the year 1900...
           and oh my, the search has been gruelling,
you have Western Europe remembering the 1st
and Eastern Europe trying to not remember the 2nd...
   the name's Mars... while i say: try Moby **** first:
because god knows what's lurking in the depth.
or maybe i got my bearings wrong? maybe language
truly is a statement of Bermuda magnetics
that makes all compasses into twirling ballerinas?
to me? what comes with authenticity is a good joke,
nothing remotely suggesting a seriousness:
or as Wittgenstein said: have a joke, make a joke,
compose everything with a joke in mind -
        oh the fringe minority still have a bargain on
identity in this field, they're brewing their next cup
of tea brown-nosing and fidgeting over how to
answer... oh i'm mad enough to turn on the Mr. Bombastic
attitude, 1L of whiskey in a single night goes a long
way in terms of unwinding and making vocab verbiage,
or counter to that: something worthy of an antique status.
still, a reminder, the yhwh is the Jews' great
present, expressed dutifully in English as equivalent
of the mathematical remainder:
                      only because the diacritical bargain
wasn't met with much approval:
what with the elites wanting to push a global rather than
a solely Mediterranean twist on the plot of how:
a revival?          well... combing back to the ulterior
motive for graffiti, an elitist sport, your handwriting
over printed press rather than Coca Cola sorta similar
on a brick wall: i'm telling you, handwriting is
a bit like wanking these days...
         but isn't it true that when we write we are
sorta becoming radiologists? aren't poems essential
x-rays? am i not simply showing you my bones?
these isn't skeletal? you sure?
and there's me thinking that America is on
the threshold of romanticising the French Revolution,
with the former concern? to reinstate a Polish
state, i.e. the Duchy of Warsaw...
              but it's not really a first world war reparations
injustice while the Germans used money instead
of wood to warm themselves in winter...
no, nothing can be said that would ever appeal
to the fact that the Third ***** was milked:
not even Indiana Jones had a ******* of that horror;
me? i took the best of the ****** affair,
the fully bewildered insurance broker of the zeitgeist:
Heidegger, and yes, i made more apologetics with
him than philosophy: as with an fatal attraction:
be it the bazar flute charmer of the cobra -
this one is bound to sting in the ***.
then another thing hit me, usually an internet
variance off state media... you ever wonder why
very claustrophobic pronoun usage (frequent interchange)
is almost equivalent of brawling with someone?
dreams of Angelique:
                     imagine a scene at a protest (two people):
- i doesn't matter what you think! your opinions are not relevant!
- true, as is the case of: you don't matter with regards
                 to what i think.
anyone spot this concentrated pronoun use
for the purpose of aversed violence via a degradation
emphasis, concerned with defending sported violence
but not social injustice : turned into justified violence?
   (yes, colon as ratio, variant of fractions,
meaning? less comparative literature of the fraction,
   and more divergence of authority within the Libra
of what's necessarily unfair: the whole is no authority
to distribute fairness);
  it's just that i feel the relentless overuse of pronouns
in a confrontation symbolises a need to use the body
rather than the tongue -
when too many pronouns are interchanged
and the repugnant pronoun collectivisation begins
the paranoid "they" and the sane "we" -
            well... Rη-oh! Rη-oh! Rη-oh!     (sheen sheen Mecca
       ism)
                             well hardly ref. to Brazil: rhy ate!
rhy ate!
                see how that tetragrammaton remainder just,
like, plops up like a baby gazelle from the mama
gazelle's ******? plop! and no diapers either.
ah: the cruelty. or as someone said:
  few letters are given geometric status, or at least
something remotely symbolising twins,
but still there are a few:
   m - sine (trigonometry)
   w - cosine (     "              )
  Δ - Pythagoras for short
      LΓ - the right hand
                  and the left hand in the non-superimposable
          categorisation of things
   ψ - the devil's barrister / i.e. a fork
     also 8008135 upside-down on a calculator screen
(insert a weird face) -
   χ - compass convergence, i.e. the point b
        you need to get to from your starting point oh,
and i guess H       for a rugby goal...
             oh hell, only a few phonetic encodings make
it out of blah blah land -
                       and without really wanting
to orientate myself on the origins of things:
i'm getting a suntan basking in all of this
in the immediate sense: actually using it.
                             and to think: we actually think
about what we talk about using only 26 symbols?
that's ****** effective,
                             which is why we were so keen
to spread out encoding system to think / say things.
and why the Chinese felt the greatest pull of gravity
in all of mankind and due to their ideograms
got pulled way way down and just say there:
which enabled them to reproduce on a scale such as
is apparent to us exporting our manual labour to
them: who the hell would want to learn
unit wording when it can be wording units?
       they have words we treat as onomatopoeia
shrapnel -
                   which is why we have enshrined ourselves
to sit on laurel leaves with Mozart:
     if ever us, then never us: linguistic atomists
                                            who perversely dissect
words into, what i can only call: a Lingua Table of
the 26 elements. it's there, it's naked, compared
with the diacritical approach: English is all
and Adam & Eve ready for a voyeuristic spelling
out of realities
- hence the plural:
    there was never one intentional crowd-surfer out
there to make people form cults, plagiarise
and sooner than later: get lost.
Can you determine the Cause of this Spite
By Twin Connections of Mistakes long past?
That which must be Forgiven; And Enlight
To soothe those Swollen Muscles at long last
I think there was a Page which left unread
Caused many Translations to poison us
That Philosophy: If Thoughts can be dead
Then reinstate that Puppet in a Bus
Who knew all his Movements were Concepts formed
And those Ring-Joints dictate his every Move
But this: Illusion and Concept conformed
Thinking these are actual Gifts from Above.
My Point, is that all these Frictions we had
Were Real Illusions; And Concepts bad.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
DC raw love Apr 2015
Originate
Meditate
Hallucinate
Dessegregate
Mediate
Alleviate
Try­ not to hate

Love your mate
Deliberate
Opinionate
Don't procrastinate
Appreciate
one's own fate

Love is fate
A one world state
Human freight
The number eight
A white & black state

Never hate
The human race
Proliferate
Communicate
A gentle trait
The broken crate
A heavy weight
Or just too late
Now devastate
Appreciate
Depreciate
Fabricate
Emulate

The truth dilate
Special date
The animals we ate
Guilt debate
The edge serrate
A better rate
Deliberate

Fascinate
Deviate
Reinstate
Liberate
To moderate
Recreate
Detonate
Annihiliate
Atomic fate

Mediate
Clear the slate
Activate
Now radiate
Food on plate
Gravitate
Now simulate
A perfect place

A heavy weight
Is it too late
Racial debate
Participate
Love & Hate
Just create
Never break

A firm had shake
The State's on the take
The girl is late
A baby to take
A mother aches
A heart breaks
Alleviate
Just fornicate

Now devastate
Appreciate
Depreciate
Fabricate
Emulate

A ******* child
The youth's irate
A mind to take
Facilitate
Deliberate
Fascinate
Deviate
Reinstate

It's getting late
The Earth's own weight
Designate your love as fate
At ninety-eight we all rotate

To Liberate
Allowing a wall
Before their rational
Thinking stand,
Inured to their heinous deed
Of every brand,
From head to toe
Involved in corruption grand,
Also while fellow citizens
Gasp for air,
Not giving an ounce of care,
Barefacedly they dare
Unjust war to declare!
"Valorous,wiping you out
We shall make the land bare!"

"Chained, cruel and corrupt
Honest - thieves and cut-throats
Us,to court you took
To punish us by the book
Such a move by hook or crook
We shall abort
Haven't it dawned on you the import?
--the select few
From the palace to port
As autocracy is our wont,
And zone of comfort
If stripped of this right
For us it will not be all right!

Though finger countered,
We hail from an ethnic group,
Marked brave
And which we could mobilize,
As our selfishness and brutality
It seems oblivious to realize.

Though during our hay days
Its plight we failed to mollify
Massaging its ego
The call for unjust war
We shall amplify
Unrepentant ,
We should
Wage a fight.

Though some of us
Are on the run,
As blood is thicker than water,
With the credulous
That fight for us
Emerge victorious we can.
To reinstate
Rule of the gun
On which
The international
Community
Has put a ban.


But
"To flee pang-of-conscience
How fast be the pace?
No need  it is no where in place"
For those on par with fascists and blood suckers that try to hide in an ethnic jungle.Also, who want to proceed with their diabolic act.How could one embezzle in billions while starved-pregenant -and-baby carrying -mother vendors are forced to pay tax by a corrupt government? How could one suspend a plastic full of water on a male's reproductive *****?
JD Connolly Oct 2011
the defense of your legacy manifested into strings of saccharin
and phrases like ‘Come on in from the rain.  We all need a torrent to own the storm, just- take off your clothes, don’t mind Kierkegaard.’

your sincerity is a cipher

you’re something of a conversation piece between good friends
who were artfully made of pre-engineered steel on a day Jove tremored in his bed
you’re something postured beneath a javelin
and likewise- something propelled for decorum

blackguard, black coffee and a birthmark turned into a running joke.
inevitable.

you searched the bottoms of summer pools
and found no discernible trace of your history
her sable crown whips back and forth in your head
and you maintain the chaos with aureate cries of preservation
it’s a halcyon boom, a lonely and sexless halcyon boom
it makes every yellow and red dress chimerical
it makes your neck unassailable
drugstore cowboy

they got close enough
to see you sweat
to note that heat and her magnificence could purge as quick as they reinstate

and you still beat
like they do

stubbornly.
Madeleine Toerne Oct 2015
Sixty dollar insurance i'll pay
for the chance to talk to someone
sixty dollars sixty dollars
take it put it back take it away need to again
sixty dollars I owe you three sets of twenty
one, two, three neat little thin stack I removed
from the Atm from a skinny mouth slit
slot and walked over and smiled and said
I'd like to reinstate my well being fee?
it is sixty dollars it says it's so easy to feel better
what a comfort. Okay sign here, it was so informal
sign here send us an email proving it was you
Shoot well that would be kind of a nice fraud
an anonymous someone paying for the chance
I might not feel well. Okay sounds great thank you
so much I really appreciate it.
Mom says well are you going to go
use it you paid for it might as well use it?
Yeah she's right I don't want to waste
it away or waste money I better find time to fit it in
when I can go I go I will feel much better financially
too if I just go.
I S A A C Jun 2022
earthquakes, heart breaks, slow like a turtle
trying to birth my new era but i am not fertile
all in divine timing i guess
what is holding me back, my stress, my ex, is my best not good enough
what is holding back my blessings, my lessons, is it that my heart is scuffed
what do i even want, been way too long
since i asked myself to be honest, everything has been a performance
who would i be if i was fearless
what would i be like if i was endearing
wonder what the core essence of me is, my scent riding the breezes
people are recognizing me, my anxiety recognizes me
a recipe for brain-fog, get up for a morning jog
to sweat out all of my venom, to restart my system
cultivate and reinstate my Wisdom
David Moss Dec 2014
I met God the other day.

And this is what I had to say.

But first, let me tell you a little of my thoughts along the way

You see to me the subjective thoughts on freedom

I've had most of my life

Reinstate a calming notion

That there's really no difference between wrong and right

What's wrong to me is right to you

And what's wrong in God's eyes is just another perspective too

And i've told my self that we are all living proof

That the truth of real freedom

Is to simply have a real freedom of truth

Seriously though, either way,

whether freedom is absolute

Or it's a façade of a god made human brain

I say do what feels good and enjoy the now and today.


So what did I do along the way to meeting god you say?

Brace yourself. Cause this is exactly what I told god straight to his face.

God greeted 'Hello my son. How are you feeling today?'

"Hey Lord. I feel ******* great. This life was more than just okay. I mean you know what I did along the way"

"But hear it from my mouth. And the lack of conviction my words carry to this day "

"I listened to loud music and damaged my ears for so many ******* years."

"I filled my lungs with toxic clouds of smoke, stupid **** like dope, contemplated consequences but treated them like jokes"

"I damaged my brain with an array of narcotics."

"Subjected myself to a list of voodoo tonics,  sometimes just pure demonic ****. And I loved every second of it."

"To the point where I altered my already imbalanced chemicals beyond repair. There. I said it. Now it's out there for you to judge. "

"To you I am probably the Antichrist. And ******* It feels nice! "

"I pierced, stretched and wounded my skin, until the shape of my former self was beyond any contemplating."

"Relating it all to an an expedition of self expressions. "

"Erections? I got them everywhere. In the classroom in the office, walking up the ******* stairs "

I mean I even had them in church for ***** sake. Sorry about that. That was weird i guess but it was kinda different. Kinda felt great. "

"I did, and would do again, with total disregard for recommended calorie intake,

"Eat a whole pizza by myself. That right there to most, don't feel like a big mistake. "

"I mean none of this does. Least not to me at the time. I mean what else is there besides the now? "

"And what else then that is more sublime?"

God: 'Well...'

"Hang on. Not finished. So I got ****** up, I ****** up and sometimes I just simply ******. "

"Enough wasn't enough. This kind of lifestyle ain't tough, let me tell you"

"I did at least one stupid thing every day. Sometimes beyond a countable array. "

"I didn't learn from most mistakes i made. "

"I definitely disappointed my parents. Well **** em I say. "

"I didn't get to choose what life I was born into. Did you choose for me God? Well, did you?"

God: 'My Chil...'

"Don't answer that actually. Your words may just further infuriate me "




"I mean I've probably ****** you off more than you have me, right up until my last dying days. I REALLY went out in an unholy blaze of glory. Still an epic story don't you think?  "

God: 'Your stor.....'

"Shut it lord! I told you I ain't done! Cause just like you I knew one day this moment would come."

"And i've had countless years of your sermons shoved down my throat. And DON'T make me utter what else your holy servants made me choke."

God: '......'



And God was completely silent, and the heavens were calm. The sudden changed should have alarmed me. But it didn't. Cause I felt like he knew what I was going to say, every step of the way.


So I cried. And the next words I had to utter in complete dismay, but total clarity and no iota of disarray


"You did this to me. All of it. I hope you understand. You made this world what it is, and who i am."

"And I broke your rules, and the body you gave me. "

"I never once begged for your forgiveness or hoped that you or your son would save me."

"I never once asked for your help, and expected it to come."

"Us humans truly felt abandoned beyond any recognition."

"But this isn't me complaining. In fact, this is me saying cheers."

"Thanks for all those struggling, harsh and ******* cruel years."

"You see I know you "

"And this world you had a hand in "

"The strength you need to live in it is so demanding"

"Beyond any priest, pope and pastor"

"I learnt about you "

"And who I am so much faster"

"Through mistakes and wrong doing"

"Infinite battles ensewing"

"Within my mind and throughout humankind"

"I grew"

"I felt"

"I knew"

"There was a point to it all"

"And even in my continuous fall "


"From your holy grace"

"I understood why you breathed life into the human race"


I was silent. I wanted God to ask why


God: 'My dearest son. Give me your perspective on the meaning of all life'

I was frustrated and I angrily stabbed back like a knife

"My God! The meaning of life was simply just to live! Beyond a simple explanation and perspective, I ain't got nothing more to give!"

God: 'Then don't give me simple, give me complex yet precise. I WANT YOUR TAKE ON THE MEANING OF THIS LIFE!!!'


I stopped in the beckon of his holy colossal voice.


And In his frustration. I found some sense of absolute rejoice.

I waited. contemplated. I felt something inside my soul I had never felt before.


"No" I implored

Then I just smiled and stared.

God shouted 'WHY?!'


"You don't get my answer, in metaphor or otherwise"  

"You don't get the privilege of what it means to be me."


"You see, I understand that you may know everything already, within your created lands"


God raised an eyebrow and ushered with his hand

God: 'Go on my son'

"So asking me this question is redundant to me and the point is really none"

I paused and waited.

God contemplated


God: 'Well....what you say is right. And now the real question remains;


Through your mortal answer what does I, God, gain?'


'Must be something' I exclaimed


God: "Yes it is. And I'll i'll tell you what it's all for.
It's nothing more than another perspective. Call it if you will, an act of me being trying to be self reflective"
'You see in all it's glory, the world i made, follows rules and so must I, be as it may'
'So I can't know what you are going to say next. I never knew where this world was going to head'
'I never knew the human race could be so unkind, that hate would be the benchmark to define your lives'
'And I could sit here and give you a thousand sorries my son, but I had no hand in your life after the initial one'

"I kinda felt it" I muttered. Crying amongst uttered words

And I knew from God what next was going to be heard.

God: 'Freedom created comes with it perks, but also what lurks behind it all
Is the creators knowledge he could watch the beauty of it all disastrously fall'


So, I Met God the other day, And this is what he had to say

But don't let my experience cause alarmed dismay


Don't ask where I am now, or what happens after death

Don't ask me about life's secrets, another's answers are useless


Just know that your perspective, is truly a blessing

Your experience is yours to keep

It's up to you, to mean something

This gift we have been given

Is not for God to take

Unless we choose to do so



Freedom is ours


For simply freedom's sake
I didn't really meet God.

It was probably Zeus or something.

He was very beardy and thundery.
he said he'd reinstate my file
but his word couldn't be trusted
one cannot believe a thing he says
many approaches to him have been made
to honor his word
but as yet not a word has been heard
he's left me in limbo
he's left me to hang
the wheel shall turn
on him in future days
then he'll be made to pay
for his dishonorable ways
he had no intentions
to do as he said
I was very badly mislead
Prerna Sinha Aug 2019
And one fine day,
I saw her departing.
She stood still and calm,
My love that had no life.
In my errands to find her,
And give her life.
Tried to reinstate love in her,
Missed the warmth of her arms.
And love pouring from her words,
Lied meaningless before me.
My head on the coffin of her,
And hopes of her being immortal.
That she would wake up,
To kiss me alive.
She was mortal,
But was so was her love?
This is a poem I dedicate to my Grandma, who left for heavenly abode 4 years back. She is alive in me, and she has taught me the most powerful lesson of life 'Love, and when you love, love unconditionally'.
Marci Mareburger Jul 2015
I am a prisoner
of the present.

The monotony of cacophony
subdues the depth of calm.
The tyranny of sound
will not cease and desist.

But for a moment I am free:
I hear nothing; I feel nothing.

         Sanity.

            At least that's how I perceive it,
But only for that moment.

A single engine's burst
or the song which birds chirp
reinstate the madness
from which I run.

I suppose this is being human.
I should have been a cloud.
"You are my quiet forest" by Dakota Wint.
Check his youtube. If you feel like it. Or not.
Meenakshi Iyer Jul 2013
fingers
tightly wrapped
to comfort, clutch harder,
a single caress
to reinstate
the vows
two golden bands made,
every day.
Natasha Bailey Aug 2019
Resurrection


When the seas, all seven, align and combine,
To form one tide, do you believe we have a selection, to
Reside, hide and remain alive?
Or is that our mind tryna confide,
In our own made lie, afraid to die?
If the angels rein down a path to heaven,
I wish to accept, find, listen and abide,
Until I arrive.
Once I’ve arrived at my final destination,
Only then will I quit the investigation,
Quit the pacing,
Where thoughts are constantly racing.
End of days where I communicate,
Debate and question every nation.
An owl of silent observation,
Mixed with a perfection I can imagination,
To relate,
To create,
And modulate,
An exhilarating answer to the allegation,
Fact or fiction,
Which is resurrection?
Such unbelievers, who claim afterlife is an illusion,
Unaware that they are too, just bait,
Heading straight,
Into the great,
Hands of fate.
The weight of the truth,
And proof,
In representation of resurrection,
Cannot be ignored, just like an antique china plate,
Or a mate,
Who’s at times, difficult to tolerate.
It’s inevitable,
So renumerate,
Your pure self, and reinstate,
Circumnavigate,
To the Golden Slate Gate.
Enter your new estate,
Where you are enchanted with the power of illumination.
Before you can await,
The glorious one who turns death into rebirth,
Giving your soul a chance to resurrect,
Recreate, and once again illuminate.





Natasha .K. Bailey
"I believe that when death closes our eyes, we shall awaken to a light, of which our sunlight is but the shadow"       - Arthur Schopenhauer
Natasha Bailey May 2019
When the seas, all seven, align and combine,
To form one tide, do you believe we have a selection, to
Reside, hide and remain alive?
Or is that our mind tryna confide,
In our own made lie, afraid to die?
If the angels rein down a path to heaven,
I wish to accept, find, listen and abide,
Until I arrive.
Once I’ve arrived at my final destination,
Only then will I quit the investigation,
Quit the pacing,
Where thoughts are constantly racing.
End of days where I communicate,
Debate and question every nation.
An owl of silent observation,
Mixed with a perfection I can imagination,
To relate,
To create,
And modulate,
An exhilarating answer to the allegation,
Fact or fiction,
Which is resurrection?
Such unbelievers, who claim afterlife is an illusion,
Unaware that they are too, just bait,
Heading straight,
Into the great,
Hands of fate.
The weight of the truth,
And proof,
In representation of resurrection,
Cannot be ignored, just like an antique china plate,
Or a mate,
Who’s at times, difficult to tolerate.
It’s inevitable,
So renumerate,
Your pure self, and reinstate,
Circumnavigate,
To the Golden Slate Gate.
Enter your new estate,
Where you are enchanted with the power of illumination.
Before you can await,
The glorious one who turns death into rebirth,
Giving your soul a chance to resurrect,
Recreate, and once again illuminate.
  

-me, myself and I
Olivia Kent Nov 2013
Settle.
You have made a rash decision.
Thrown yourself away.
Take a chill pill.
Not literally I swear of course.
Put your head back on the level.
Put your feet back on the ground.
That does not mean, your  put your head upon the block.

In your sorrow
I do not revel.
Detest to see you in so many pieces.
I realise you're broken and hurting to bits.
Don't wipe yourself away.
Reinstate the poems that you've taken.

My friend a huge mistake you've made.
I know you have.
For the sake of cross wires.
Please don't crucify yourself inside.
Just rest and recover.
This has messed me, as much as thee.
Sweet man.

Reconsider your tragic actions so rash!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
L T Winter Jan 2015
I can't feel my nails crushing beneath a mountain of weightlessness- but I can hear them, as these muscles reinstate tooth-ache agony with every blink.
kirk Oct 2017
What the hell has happened to the adverts on our TV screens?
When Our teeth shined with Sensodine, Colgate and Mccleans
Kinder made surprising eggs and Heinz Meanz tinned Baked Beans
Fairy Liquid lasted longer, houses cleaned with Mr Sheens
Daz Automatic, Surf and Ariel washed clothes in our machines
Which brings me to that buff hunky guy washing Levi jeans

Winalot and Pedagree where good food for our dogs
Robinson's Jam old icon was mascot Golly wogs
Fudge fingers where just enough to give our kids a treat
Not even a Black Hole could eat three Shredded Wheat
Gillette was the best shave, that a man could get
Happiness was achieved, with a cigar called Hamlet
Surfing was the mark of a man, the fragrance of Old Spice
Brut had an unbeatable smell even Henry Cooper smelt quite nice
You know when where Tangoed when your slapped in the chop
Magic begun when we heard the fun of Snap Crackle and Pop
"Hey I'd love a Babycham" in that cool smooth cocktail pub
Biscuits had a lot of chocolate when you joined their Club
The Honey Monster told his mummy to tell us about the Honey
Taking it easy with a Caramel from that **** Cadburys Bunny
Leonard Rossiter and Joan Collins had Cinzano on a plane
The secret lemonade drinker sneaked downstairs for R Whites again
If you know what's good for you, you would eat Weetabix
Chimpanzees did all kinds things for the taste of PG tips
Turkish Delight had eastern promise her hair he had to stroke
You where in love for the very first time when you drank a Coke
If you had a Mars a day we where helped to work, rest and play
A secret agent risked everything because the lady loved Milk Tray

The quest of a silent messenger in case you had forgot
Seeking for the timeless taste of the larger of Lamot
Carling had the three in one with the cowboy in the west
From love songs to soap powder Black Label was the best
Searching for Fly Fishing  J R Hartley got downhearted
Good old Yellow Pages is where he should have started
Garath Hunt had Nescafe he shook the coffee bean
With Una Stubbs and Sarah Green and even Diane Keen
The cute Kid with the glasses he was strong and tough
The Milky Bars are on him, the best where good enough

What do we get on our screens in our modern time
All of the ads are terrible their broadcast is a crime
All you are providing is the same old ******* grime
Ramming the same thing down our throat like an hourly chime
Its the same as TV programming there's nothing that is prime
With all the cheap reality shows there boring and just slime

What is it with the crap Go Compare to many in this set
The PPI's and Clear Score there all a public social threat
Too many online Bingo sites it seems they took all they could get
All these loans and gambling its no wonder people are in debt

Cillit Bang it sounded good when used by Barry Scott
Boy that stuff can't really work cos he had a ****** lot
I don't think it was all that good and not so very hot
If its in the cheep shop I may give it a small shot

The Gtech cordless vacuum it simply has no class
With its 40 minuet run time I think id rather pass
It doesn't seem that powerful I know this may seem harsh
Break free from the Gtech Air Ram and ram it up your ****

And all those crap insurance ads I really do despair
Especially that ******* opera singer singing Go Compare
With his stupid ****** false moustache, Tuxedo and black hair
Get rid of this obnoxious guy and nobody cares where

All those ****** ******* adverts they have on nowadays
nothing like the larger ads or the man with the milk trays.
all you get is insurance ads none of which that pays
or loans that you don't ******* want or any of their strays

Get rid of all these ****** ads put them on the shelf
I don't mean to appear arrogant, I could do better myself
Stop melting our minds, we cant shield our minds in stealth
To many poor folks sat at home with messed up mental health
All you execs make millions your only interested in wealth
And reinstate some proper ads stop thinking of yourself

So bring back all the old ads they where more amusing
Inventive and informative more things for the choosing
Not like they are today all boring, some confusing
Monotonous and self obsessed you only end up snoozing
Always going with the flow with all the same ads cruising
Come on all you ad execs its the public that your losing
Rhys Hebbs Oct 2020
Paradise is the lovechild of courage and pain
but only when the passion
to reinstate pleasure
is birthed by dancing in the rain.
For all tenacious dreamers
serenade the Goddess of Blooming
lest the coldness thats looming
from their soon to be consuming tomb
swiftly seals their doom.
Yet when the Devil prowls the avenues looking for souls to ******
with a life thats deranged
by the day to day charade
of the virtuous ball and chain
maimed around hard, sad truths,
who amongst us can try to deny the pull of
temptation towards false salvation
of all nihilistic avenues of uncouth youth
and the bittersweet fruits of their brutal truth
C Mahood Nov 2018
Sometimes i
Feel great
Then create
A fate
I hate.
Sometimes I
Just debate
And fixate
On Being overweight.
But then I
Concentrate
And reinstate
A positive state
Of feeling great!
A simple, yet fun exercise in word play. Using the last word to create the rhyme and follow through a single statement using a rhythmic meter that works best spoken aloud
Gary W Weasel Jr Dec 2012
The end is here
And a beginning shall follow.
I hear the lady singing,
So beautifully it might
Bring withheld tears.

I have come from being fresh,
To the ignorance of the next,
Only to meet the challenge
Of my life.

I have survived and preserved.
I have gun what will not end,
And now I leave only to return,
Knowing what I have accomplished,
I shall reinstate myself,
With seniority.
Written May 20, 2004 @ 2:51 PM CDT
Mark Tilford Dec 2015
to change our  fate
to start over and to have a clean slate
to stop the hate
to stop the mistakes
that we all constantly make
with that, I think we all can relate
God's rules. those, we do not have to translate
or ever debate
his word we need to reinstate
never recreate
or  berate
at the end, with him, we all have a date
heaven is really not that far
but we have to change the way things are
we all have to  bare his scares
it's his world where we all are
we cannot change what we have done so far
it's not to late
for a restart
for us to be a little more smart  
to stop the wars that we start
before it's time for us to depart
to fill everyone's heart
"we aren't"
it's not to late
to pull someone you know or don't know
in from the cold
to find a stranger and just hold
and console
or lead them back home
to do good like we have been told

it's not to late
to change our fate
the way it was foretold
J Dec 2016
Surrounded by people yet oh, so alone
It took me a month, 12 days and three hours to notice the hole
in my stomach from when you told me I deserved it.
Why is your voice, then, the one thing I wish yelled it?
The sorry sound of apologies I'll never hear,
the ones I make up just to rid of that shatter I feel in my spine everytime
I remember what you said to me April first before the line went dead,
Hell bent on apologies I fabricate and decorate with words my peers love,
to reinstate a relationship I all but deconstructed on my own,
so why am I alone?
Every mistake, I would blame everything you'd take, and I would give more.

I still have a bruise on my knees from the night I hit the floor.
I'd give until I had nothing left,
I have nothing left.

I'm a thief. Good at deceiving,
convincing everyone around who cares
I'm in a good place.
God, am I happy.
Convincing them I'm losing weight by eating clean and not because I lose my ******* appetite every time I remember you never missed me,
I don't sleep.

Why did it take a month to feel this hole consume me?
I'm empty
I wrote this in april and just found/revised it after a bad breakup
jalc Mar 2016
H
Today my glow is dim and my feet leave marks in their stead
I can't seem to stir from my bed
There is much to accomplish but my back I turned
To lie in the cooler spot I'd just vacated
My body is limp and my thoughts are rumpled
Unmoved by the sunlight high overhead

Today I can't seem to get anything straight
I lie sticky in sweat and tears, clothes long shed
The fan whirls but no breeze is created
In this staleness I marinate
Wishing for the sun to set
And my energy to reinstate

Today I felt every second of time as it ticked
Slowly bleeding out of my consciousness as I napped
Dreaming fitfully of unpleasant feelings twisted and red
I want to reach out for another's lead
But there was no conviction in my hand
So I stayed

Today I wondered about what was wrong with me
And how this lifeless version came to be
I think I'm probably one of few who get down when it's sunny out, but somehow the sun just saps everything I have.
I am just a flag
I do not mean to cause discontent
All I did was wave
Over men who into battle went

The motives of those men's hearts
I could not see
But from what I observed
It was a fight for liberty

I am just a flag
I cannot **** or hate
Let me wave again
My presence reinstate

It truly makes no sense
For me to be taken down
When the reason for the hate
Within men's hearts is found

You men should find within your heart
The need to love and to forgive
I'm just a flag that waves
Above land on which men live

Simply just a symbol
Only cloth and thread
Let me leave you with some words
A man I knew once said;

"A house divided against itself cannot stand"
President Abraham Lincoln
Springfield ILL,
June 17,1858

RLB
nivek Aug 2014
it was that time of times
when man had no need
no need of barns to fill
no thought of profit
a man was a brother in need
and in need a brother indeed
a brother to lavish love upon
a blessing to the giver
it was a time shortlived
and it took a God to reinstate
and forever to balance
the unjust weights
neth jones Dec 2023
clipping a trail
  through the un-mown grasses of prehistory
i am reduced and nuded 
  by the buoyant vat   of sky baby blue

the grasses seed the heels of my work clogs
spiking sensory jabs through my socks
      a shy petting of pain

with the prow of my stride
  tiny residents vault scut and flutter
neatly evading   un panicked

radiating wet heat raises to my waist
i stop my destructive wading
i am slit, vulnerable and fed
i am primitive and free
i have membership
my uniform   banished

i take in a humid breath

about face
       and the illusions are switched
the buildings icon dominates
       and draws my responsibility
i can smile at the wash of life
       and reinstate myself in paid labour
28/08/23
Leroy J Harris Apr 2014
Rick walked back, trying not to shake,
His bones vibrated, his melodies became distorted,
Skipping beats once memorized and mastered,
Became difficult to piece together.
Rick had no choice but to use force of will,
To reinstate control over himself and his song,
I won't let fear smother me, gasp I will not,
Through present circumstance...
Into a deep sleep
My consciousness starts to peep
Into a twilight zone
Where the deepest thoughts are meet
Projected images
Showing me past time vintages
Hidden in a village
Was a small figure faceless
But had a shadow and a major plateau
Seen the figure walk right in front of me
It frighten me so that I thought the
Angel of death was coming for me
But felt i Was in comfortability
My soul was felt triggered by an interrupted scenery
My past family enticed me with much scorn and agony suddenly
I awoke and the figure spoke
Another language I couldn't understand
But by the looks of his shadow
I seen a waving hand
It was like an extraterrestrial being
A spiritual sighting for my intellectual seeing
Spirits geared towards me for a natural healing
**** what a feeling shooken and feeling
Normal but somehow I felt like I was dealing
With something that could'nt be explained
In the physical in the format of a spiritual
It happens to any individual who's third eye opened a portal so
Don't be scared it's just ancestors
Trying to reconnect
To ya mental from all the **** that mankind rejects
Only a few are chosen and awoken
To see a indication of Armageddon
Wars heard light years ahead
So many Trying to get ahead
But ain't watching their own heads
Prayers said for daily bread
Pastors can't save you thats why when they talk the scriptures are dead
Just recited philosophy red
But if you reinstate what they red
Interpret their message
They look at you like your dead
As Jesus said and bleed
The theft comes out in the midst of the darkest hour
When your sound asleep and resting power
This poem will shiver to apoint
That'll make moutains quake
But you won't see the rumble
But you'll hear the rumble
Gods voice is talking while lost folks walking
Around with their heads toward the ground
Wake Wake up Its the first of the month
With the cumulus clouds forming for the storming
Its just the Angel swarming
Horse and chariots flaming
So take heed watch and don't hold your breath
Cuz your brains skin blood cells will begins to lock and shock
Til your your proceeding death
With your black eyes dilated
{The Watcher}
Don’t need my ‘full English’ served
On a giant rectangular slab
Don’t need a dressed salad garnish
With my bacon, sausage and egg

Don’t need vine-on cherry tomatoes
Give me canned ones in juice instead
And though I’ve scoured this ridiculous slab
Can I **** find a slice of fried bread?!

And where is my builder’s tea?
English breakfast or Earl Grey’s the choice
But cutlery won’t stand up in either
I want Tetley’s, nowt else will suffice

Oh, what has happened
To the greasy spoon?
This ‘N8 Brunch’
Is loony tunes

10 of my squid
For two brittle half rashers
That crumble to dust
When faced with my gnashers

One measly egg
Yet a goblet of beans
Presented as if made
Of priceless things

Resplendent on said slab
In a vessel all of their own
Yet still I detest these things
And deign to leave them alone

And every cuppa you have
Costs an additional fee
No bottomless beverages here
No meal deal where your tipple is free

This wasn’t always the case
But gentrification is setting in
Prices soar, pretension is rife
Poshification of everything

I love London toon
Particularly Crouch End
But I’m northern at heart
And it drives me round the bend

When I’m being ripped off
Taken for a ride
Fleeced and shafted
Hung out and dried

If I pop down the road
To N22
A tenner will buy
Double the amount of food

Might not look as pretty
Might not be as ‘posh’
But at least it’s value for money
Not like detonating your dosh

Middey’s by name
****** by nature
The tiniest of fry ups
Leaves me cold by temperature

A sprinkling of rocket
Is an utter abomination
On a British institution
I can’t afford at this rate of inflation

So b*ocks to the balsamic
You sprinkled on those leaves
That didn’t belong there in the first place
Desist in future, please!

Dispense with the vegetation
The slab that should be a plate
And reinstate the greasy spoon
In my beautiful N8.

— The End —