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"repeal" poems
Toking on a cloud with ******* Jesus and his family Lame folks ask me how, its cause I ******* smoke religiously No God I smoke religious tree, I get ****** in the name of heresy You angry penguin ****** preach acceptance So praise the Lord and ******* shame on me My guise is Satan ***** and my swag is undisguisible heartless and no conscience, sicksicksix most recognizable -that statement may surprise a little but since we all surmise a little Why deny me as the devil when When I clearly play a golden fiddle. . . From Hell I made a deal and there is no repeal nothing you see is real, I will invade and pervade your mind So wait in anticipation, life's a figment of your own imagination I'll watch you dissipate into oblivion Pound for pound, I'm a cenobite at heart, I just haven't a heart to be found It's not hard for me its profound, the sound of suffering your soul is ours now and I will tear it apart Here's a toast to our orchestral Symphony of the flesh My swag's so ******* flawless 100 carrot diamonds, ******* love me cause I'm gorgeous can't stag no more, fat stacks galore embrace the force it opens doors Is there a source, but of course - it just lies dormant/ What's a ***** to a floor except a doormat And you know that I'm no diplomat It's just a fact I ******* hate those stinky ratchets And I sharply lack tact tell that ***** her ***** smells like Magikarp Body language, that of Snorlax someone once asked why don't have an open mind brains would spill out if my ******* snapback weren't so tight Its the season to seize C's and hallucinations be dazzlin em don't believe your eyes son, its only a phantasm but Words are like playdough, fun to play with not to eat So clap your ******* trap and get lost to the beat I can't be defeat So suckle my teet My verses are perverse I'm high as **** words: failing Get low ill as **** so ******* sick, blowed half past belligerent, tweaking off my nasal drips, There's serenity in debauchery - ***** I ******* bask in it have a taste basketcase, I drink red bull it gives me ******* wings "Memento quod sumus lascivio venatus" Remember that you are playing the Game
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Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 9:00 PM UTC
Anomalous Phenomena
Toking on a cloud with ******* Jesus and his family Lame folks ask me how, its cause I ******* smoke religiously No God I smoke religious tree, I get ****** in the name of heresy You angry penguin ****** preach acceptance So praise the Lord and ******* shame on me My guise is Satan ***** and my swag is undisguisible heartless and no conscience, sicksicksix most recognizable -that statement may surprise a little but since we all surmise a little Why deny me as the devil when When I clearly play a golden fiddle. . . From Hell I made a deal and there is no repeal nothing you see is real, I will invade and pervade your mind So wait in anticipation, life's a figment of your own imagination I'll watch you dissipate into oblivion Pound for pound, I'm a cenobite at heart, I just haven't a heart to be found It's not hard for me its profound, the sound of suffering your soul is ours now and I will tear it apart Here's a toast to our orchestral Symphony of the flesh My swag's so ******* flawless 100 carrot diamonds, ******* love me cause I'm gorgeous can't stag no more, fat stacks galore embrace the force it opens doors Is there a source, but of course - it just lies dormant/ What's a ***** to a floor except a doormat And you know that I'm no diplomat It's just a fact I ******* hate those stinky ratchets And I sharply lack tact tell that ***** her ***** smells like Magikarp Body language, that of Snorlax someone once asked why don't have an open mind brains would spill out if my ******* snapback weren't so tight Its the season to seize C's and hallucinations be dazzlin em don't believe your eyes son, its only a phantasm but Words are like playdough, fun to play with not to eat So clap your ******* trap and get lost to the beat I can't be defeat So suckle my teet My verses are perverse I'm high as **** words: failing Get low ill as **** so ******* sick, blowed half past belligerent, tweaking off my nasal drips, There's serenity in debauchery - ***** I ******* bask in it have a taste basketcase, I drink red bull it gives me ******* wings "Memento quod sumus lascivio venatus" Remember that you are playing the Game
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72
528 Mine—by the Right of the White Election! Mine—by the Royal Seal! Mine—by the Sign in the Scarlet prison— Bars—cannot conceal! Mine—here—in Vision—and in Veto! Mine—by the Grave’s Repeal— Tilted—Confirmed— Delirious Charter! Mine—long as Ages steal!
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2.7k
Mine—by the Right of the White Election!
510 It was not Death, for I stood up, And all the Dead, lie down— It was not Night, for all the Bells Put out their Tongues, for Noon. It was not Frost, for on my Flesh I felt Siroccos—crawl— Nor Fire—for just my Marble feet Could keep a Chancel, cool— And yet, it tasted, like them all, The Figures I have seen Set orderly, for Burial, Reminded me, of mine— As if my life were shaven, And fitted to a frame, And could not breathe without a key, And ’twas like Midnight, some - When everything that ticked—has stopped— And Space stares all around— Or Grisly frosts—first Autumn morns, Repeal the Beating Ground— But, most, like Chaos—Stopless—cool— Without a Change, or Spar— Or even a Report of Land— To justify—Despair.
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2.6k
It was not Death, for I stood up
caught in a dark romance of shadows she said she could taste a wilderness of tears waiting just beyond the soft candlelight and she just couldn't face it alone again so held her thin hand clasped in mine while her heart thundered like madness and we spent the hours talking ever so quiet we lay awake under the moving darkness we lay entwined in reassurance we lay skin to skin like lovers do i drifted in and out of restless dreams of sailing ships testing the tempest i dreamt of gypsy's dancing in the dark wood these dreams were a tangle of a dark romances shadows ****** you to believe that path you tread was meant to be her smoke filled eyes lent favor to the idea that somewhere deep within there burned a flame but her voice was cool like the first kiss of autumns wind was deep as the craft of her thoughts could devise for she sought to weave such a tale as to sway the heart and repeal this dark romance
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May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 2:24 PM UTC
of thistles and velvet
Chances are you've changed your plans again and I'm betting I'm no longer a part of them So I stand still and You go steady I guess you thought my friendship needed a vacancy As if we could have too many Reach a maximum occupancy Exceed the optimum capacity I have to say I'm not surprised I've been told bigger lies I often wonder why our pants aren't on fire Isn't that what we used to say to each other? Liar liar You're too busy and I'm too guilty Ultimately I don't really want you to be this happy That says less about you and more about me than I love you Ever did I'm sorry you had to babysit My infantile intake of insults Never ceasing to receive the same results I just wish you wouldn't insist it was only my fault Be honest It wasn't just me who crossed the line I was never leaving lies behind When you found out you just said You'll be fine Liar liar Go get married and have two kids A few years from now you can tell me how it is I won't know how it feels to repeal vows Wedding band wasteland What wonderful self worth we might have Ill hang out here near the exit Loitering through life and Longing for the opportunity to No longer want to be loved When the fire crashes down from above I will look to the sky and whisper "Best friends forever" Aflame at last Liar liar
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Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 2:07 PM UTC
-Liar Liar-
This dot kami’s ‘Nam when I see you’re all neutral To futile lords still passin’ Acts of Removal Pretentious performers as if upon stages Of casting call characters caught up in cages Like ****** who off-shore **** the poor on vacations I’m diggin’ up dirt on the founders’ plantations When bail-outs are ballots and bullets are mallets Why not be a rabbit hole in Hefner’s palace? And dare call it talent, a gift or a passion Just model behavior for slaves to a fashion Show running the breadlines when crimes are a dime In the dozens of ***** Weinsteins on your minds Instead of the felons when court is in Sessions Instead of the under-oath treason confessions In rapid succession they feed you the buzz Until nobody cares what the debt ceiling was When the roof has been raised for the privatize party The right wants us dead and the left shows up tardy I’m sorry “you people” are making me sick Guess I’ll just pop a pill from the cabinet pick Like has-been Michael Flynn’s and these Ex-Tillersons Resource hogs cloggin’ bogs up with smogs of odd jobs They’re the slEASIEST Slytherins still seemin’ Jesus Pro-life until *** aid is the fetus Egregious excesses of who the **** needs this Huge 2nd place trophy wife ivory tower Big guns for a stickless diplomacy coward Here’s my golden shower tricklin’ down your faces You blatantly ****** repeal and replacists You war-profiteering, grand **** of old Racists and fakers, uranium cacres Still stuffing the stockings of doomsday clock-makers With melting North Pole lumps of coal-hearted cash ‘Till every last Christmas trees nothing but ash As the fascist machine builds its pyramid scheme On the dreams of the themes of your Disney World screen But the credits will roll as the talking heads stroll in The shoe bombs of Terrorist’s livelihoods stolen But I leave ‘em spinnin’ like Christopher Nolan
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Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 2:27 PM UTC
Fascist Fake News Fashion Show
This dot kami’s ‘Nam when I see you’re all neutral To futile lords still passin’ Acts of Removal Pretentious performers as if upon stages Of casting call characters caught up in cages Like ****** who off-shore **** the poor on vacations I’m diggin’ up dirt on the founders’ plantations When bail-outs are ballots and bullets are mallets Why not be a rabbit hole in Hefner’s palace? And dare call it talent, a gift or a passion Just model behavior for slaves to a fashion Show running the breadlines when crimes are a dime In the dozens of ***** Weinsteins on your minds Instead of the felons when court is in Sessions Instead of the under-oath treason confessions In rapid succession they feed you the buzz Until nobody cares what the debt ceiling was When the roof has been raised for the privatize party The right wants us dead and the left shows up tardy I’m sorry “you people” are making me sick Guess I’ll just pop a pill from the cabinet pick Like has-been Michael Flynn’s and these Ex-Tillersons Resource hogs cloggin’ bogs up with smogs of odd jobs They’re the slEASIEST Slytherins still seemin’ Jesus Pro-life until *** aid is the fetus Egregious excesses of who the **** needs this Huge 2nd place trophy wife ivory tower Big guns for a stickless diplomacy coward Here’s my golden shower tricklin’ down your faces You blatantly ****** repeal and replacists You war-profiteering, grand **** of old Racists and fakers, uranium cacres Still stuffing the stockings of doomsday clock-makers With melting North Pole lumps of coal-hearted cash ‘Till every last Christmas trees nothing but ash As the fascist machine builds its pyramid scheme On the dreams of the themes of your Disney World screen But the credits will roll as the talking heads stroll in The shoe bombs of Terrorist’s livelihoods stolen But I leave ‘em spinnin’ like Christopher Nolan
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38
I don’t want to make a big ordeal, but the way you see me is not ideal. The world expects me to conceal, but wouldn’t that be unreal. Now that I’m saying this it feels surreal, like someone grabbed my steering wheel. My body feels like oatmeal, and I’m trying not to kneel. You turned this into a newsreel, I wish I could repeal. I tried to be stainless steel, but you’re a spiked heel.
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May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 12:22 PM UTC
Coming Out
It is a replicable dialectic that swirls in my mind like a spiral of cigarette smoke covering fluctuations of diffused expanses of transferable hallucinated images relying on an artificial artificiality to generate a reality one that amplifies a calisthenics of maximized reduction in the blank vacuum of space allows those sophistication’s where there is a scrutiny of exclusions that may perhaps betray the concepts of others those correlatives of our own creative interirority where a mind may repeal a transgression for it is breakfast in the time of the Wizard Pig
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Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 5:24 AM UTC
Breakfast in the time of the Wizard Pig
To the USA, a travelling circus came, They elected a brand new President, And Donald was his name. Over-night, and it's such a crying shame, He's divided American Politics, To advance his wealth and fame Donald the President waved his hands, And pointed up with his finger, He said to the world 'My name is Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump! Donald the President's building a wall, To keep out thousands of migrants, The USA is becoming a dump, Dump, Dump, Dump! People from many nations, Tried to intervene, They shouted and marched, And waved their signs, And made an ugly scene. But Donald the President waved his hands, and pointed up with his finger, He'll have his way, He's taken the **** **** **** **** Oh, what a to-do, He's surrounded himself with fools, Firstly they blame Obama spies, and then it's GCHQ. His travel ban has been thwarted in Maryland, Then the repeal of Obama care, Has been grounded where it stands. But Donald the President promised the earth, To all the American people, 'We'll make America great again', Pump, Pump, Pump! Donald the President hates the Press, They're 'Fake News' creators, They're pedlars of lies, They're all the same, Grump, Grump, Grump! From Iran to NATO, The problems start to swell, From Syria, and Israel, To North Korea as well. But Donald the President's borrowing cash, to try and save the Republic, How will they ever pay it back? Slump, Slump, Slump? The president may be a Billionaire, Who wants control of the Senate, But some said Putin was pulling some strings? Chump, Chump, Chump !
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May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 4:09 AM UTC
Donald the President
To the USA, a travelling circus came, They elected a brand new President, And Donald was his name. Over-night, and it's such a crying shame, He's divided American Politics, To advance his wealth and fame Donald the President waved his hands, And pointed up with his finger, He said to the world 'My name is Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump! Donald the President's building a wall, To keep out thousands of migrants, The USA is becoming a dump, Dump, Dump, Dump! People from many nations, Tried to intervene, They shouted and marched, And waved their signs, And made an ugly scene. But Donald the President waved his hands, and pointed up with his finger, He'll have his way, He's taken the **** **** **** **** Oh, what a to-do, He's surrounded himself with fools, Firstly they blame Obama spies, and then it's GCHQ. His travel ban has been thwarted in Maryland, Then the repeal of Obama care, Has been grounded where it stands. But Donald the President promised the earth, To all the American people, 'We'll make America great again', Pump, Pump, Pump! Donald the President hates the Press, They're 'Fake News' creators, They're pedlars of lies, They're all the same, Grump, Grump, Grump! From Iran to NATO, The problems start to swell, From Syria, and Israel, To North Korea as well. But Donald the President's borrowing cash, to try and save the Republic, How will they ever pay it back? Slump, Slump, Slump? The president may be a Billionaire, Who wants control of the Senate, But some said Putin was pulling some strings? Chump, Chump, Chump !
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53
Flight came so easily when I was a boy of seven. I'd hover over sidewalks, cars and lawns gliding on a sea of azure air above my friends at play and Mom and Pop talking on the stoop. I'd circle over McKinley School (my school) where the recess bell is ringing and the creek by the edge of the woods where I found the railroad flare (my creek, my woods). Flight came ever so easily when I was seven (or was it eight?) when the sky was autumn blue and the world below was kind and true. But in time, science grounded me, said it was just a dream. After all a boy can't just up and repeal the law of gravity, can he? Why yes, of course he can: it comes so easy when you're seven or eight and the skies are right for flying. October, 2010
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Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 6:14 PM UTC
A Time for Flying
Showing translucent and pure charity, His kindness is hence often called surreal. With friend and enemy in parity, Utter selflessness he will not repeal. Exhibiting only daft pretension, He is one enraptured by self-caring. One to harm another for attention, But in self-survival never daring. In this universal reality, He is these both and these neither within, Glorifying unseen morality, Enveloped by demonic fires of sin, Giving it all and taking what he can, Passionate and deceiving, he is man.
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Jan 24, 2011
Jan 24, 2011 at 6:38 PM UTC
Defenestration of the Unreal
There were many who believed in ideals, Fretting about in their heels, With bollards and plackards, They marched and nattered, All hell they would repeal. ISIS let rip in the east, Fear more important than peace, Assad called the Russians We heard the percussion, Aleppo mourned daily deceased. The climate was caught unawares, When it realised nobody cares, The smog came in strong, Al Gore wasn't wrong, When people flirt with despair. Brexit was no laughing matter, The public blind to what they were after, Trigger at the ready, It isn't looking steady, For a kingdom with too many actors.  Trump, we thought at first glance, Didn't have much of a chance, But Hilary's scandal, Left the US at a stand still, Now the world's in Russia's trance. Farewell to the icons we'll pine, Our culture was built on their spine, Prince, Bowie and George, With legends we forged The moments that will surpass time. Ireland became a haven for a few Pity there wasn't a queue, With a fight for corporate heads Banks left dry and bled, Tech an oligopoly? Who knew. Aleppo left drenched with no fate, The little reaction to late, UN cries unheard, Media reports blurred. It's hard to keep up at this rate. Silicon Valley is offering free food, to workers becoming robots or goods, 12 hour days, extraordinary pay, But with no creativity they're ******* Sporting greats made their way to the stage, this year's Olympics causing outrage, medals were plenty, seats were empty, And controversy graced every front page. Here we go blindfolded into 2017 Only the wealthy living the dream, while most young folk, believe politics a joke, Tell me, is it time for a new regime?
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Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 3:39 PM UTC
A Long Limerick for the year gone by
There were many who believed in ideals, Fretting about in their heels, With bollards and plackards, They marched and nattered, All hell they would repeal. ISIS let rip in the east, Fear more important than peace, Assad called the Russians We heard the percussion, Aleppo mourned daily deceased. The climate was caught unawares, When it realised nobody cares, The smog came in strong, Al Gore wasn't wrong, When people flirt with despair. Brexit was no laughing matter, The public blind to what they were after, Trigger at the ready, It isn't looking steady, For a kingdom with too many actors.  Trump, we thought at first glance, Didn't have much of a chance, But Hilary's scandal, Left the US at a stand still, Now the world's in Russia's trance. Farewell to the icons we'll pine, Our culture was built on their spine, Prince, Bowie and George, With legends we forged The moments that will surpass time. Ireland became a haven for a few Pity there wasn't a queue, With a fight for corporate heads Banks left dry and bled, Tech an oligopoly? Who knew. Aleppo left drenched with no fate, The little reaction to late, UN cries unheard, Media reports blurred. It's hard to keep up at this rate. Silicon Valley is offering free food, to workers becoming robots or goods, 12 hour days, extraordinary pay, But with no creativity they're ******* Sporting greats made their way to the stage, this year's Olympics causing outrage, medals were plenty, seats were empty, And controversy graced every front page. Here we go blindfolded into 2017 Only the wealthy living the dream, while most young folk, believe politics a joke, Tell me, is it time for a new regime?
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55
As the crow flies south from capital city With soaring moonshine he coasts into synchronicity Highways below dissolve into forgotten whispers Like a rear view mirror sees only memories in its disappearing Visual ****** initiates and fills this polychromatic cruise Starting with a quiet historic ruse Contesting over which of the two echo shadows for optical repeal the many leaves of kaleidoscope hues That keep a running legacy since time before our time and / or Buried horizon from endless layers of skyward hills Hills that have been storing a primitive foundation for the growing of substructure foliage in order to be able to drop its petals and leaves Resolve is left with the one true and unbiased impartial decider... the wind to form a fair measure of mediation From the human view All are merely a preview for the impromptu quest In an attempt to catalyze foreshadow and paint memory for the drive out west To approach from afar The destination appears to be a resting shape of an antiquated location splashed with opaque aromas, sensory weaving visuals, and Melodic tones of nostalgic definition Emitting vibrations of soothing tremolo that quiver throughout the body this multi-strip string of singular select shops Is the alignment initiative in the countryside forecasting a manifest for the hazy occasion Anointing inspiration over the heartland’s artland That nearly only hope, could create Invisible snows sprinkle over roads like a magic red carpet of threaded tranquility in its coat Enticing, Welcoming, and Lighting up this neck of the west And opening into the Woodland Hills of Little Nashville ———-—————————————-——————————
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Oct 3, 2019
Oct 3, 2019 at 6:10 PM UTC
Little Nashville (Indiana)
As the crow flies south from capital city With soaring moonshine he coasts into synchronicity Highways below dissolve into forgotten whispers Like a rear view mirror sees only memories in its disappearing Visual ****** initiates and fills this polychromatic cruise Starting with a quiet historic ruse Contesting over which of the two echo shadows for optical repeal the many leaves of kaleidoscope hues That keep a running legacy since time before our time and / or Buried horizon from endless layers of skyward hills Hills that have been storing a primitive foundation for the growing of substructure foliage in order to be able to drop its petals and leaves Resolve is left with the one true and unbiased impartial decider... the wind to form a fair measure of mediation From the human view All are merely a preview for the impromptu quest In an attempt to catalyze foreshadow and paint memory for the drive out west To approach from afar The destination appears to be a resting shape of an antiquated location splashed with opaque aromas, sensory weaving visuals, and Melodic tones of nostalgic definition Emitting vibrations of soothing tremolo that quiver throughout the body this multi-strip string of singular select shops Is the alignment initiative in the countryside forecasting a manifest for the hazy occasion Anointing inspiration over the heartland’s artland That nearly only hope, could create Invisible snows sprinkle over roads like a magic red carpet of threaded tranquility in its coat Enticing, Welcoming, and Lighting up this neck of the west And opening into the Woodland Hills of Little Nashville ———-—————————————-——————————
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39
Learn to love, Yourself before You learn to love Somebody else And be the love You feel and not The love that You would sell In flaw, calls change If will remains - In fear, Find strength yet again Don't reach for those Who let the door close You'll meet them Once again In the end Find yourself, And find the friends Who made you, Who you are again Love and feel, Or hate and repeal But act on just What is real Be and let be, Leave memory But more importantly Make yourself free And none had you lost, But all could see None made you fall, As did she Rise like before, As love does adore The soul that would try Just once more Learn to love Yourself before You learn to love Somebody else Live, dont regret Don't forget Who you are Ready, Get set, You will go far.
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May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 2:44 PM UTC
A Poet's Plea
To wake and feel is life’s fine deal, To love and yield so one can heal, The fine repeal which one sees real,’ Is a virtue of the green seal, To wake and joy a life long bliss, Hestia gives us our precious kiss, To say unless is like a diss, When you are talking to your sis, Enjoy the life the way you are,, Thinking this way will get you far, Drink fresh water from a smooth jar, It will guide you – reach for the stars, All desires which one achieves, Depends on one who thus perceives, In order for on be allieved, To feel alive one must believe…
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Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 2:40 PM UTC
Lively Desire
**May the roof above us never fall in? and may we friends gathered below never fall out. May the good saints protect us And bless us today And may troubles ignore you Each step of the way:  quote from an Irish blessing** ~~~~~~~~~~ When the living pretend to don’t care About Obamacare, or this new healthcare in this year of two thousand and seventeen   His legacy is Washington new vanishing act They daunting faces, as they smirked in triumph The poor man burden, once again is left out in the dark Washington DC is becoming the number one soap opera An uncaring state of mind for the men in black Who hold the magic key, who hired the pied piper? Will pay the price:  the cry that will get us the most is the cry of the children, in the final hours? The wine bottle glugging sound effect as they praise Cork popping, family bawling, and once again We march for justice, when the living pretend to don’t care Delay and Repeal: I have not the power to stop them in the tracks, All I can do is to write lousy poetry reconsidered this bill: You have won Now think of last man in the race:
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May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 9:12 AM UTC
Delay And Appeal
from between 2 somethings arose a kind erosion saying, "your you is a light lie crusting on the tongue of truth" i could not find a suitable vocal enunciation to repeal this tepid assertion so i gave him a measure of myself laughing
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May 5, 2010
May 5, 2010 at 1:11 AM UTC
from between 2 somethings
“YOU’RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER!” screams the judge, wielding a whiskey and a weaponised Women’s Weekly, as I flare inside but choose instead to smile meekly.   Was my Dad the spawn of Jeffrey Dahmer? Or the bloke who used to watch Kojak, on a Sunday, in pyjamas? In fairness though, the absence of the villain of this piece, last seen clubbing in Ibiza with a girl who’s not his niece, does nothing to lighten this affair. Especially with his crimes bequeathed to me, his heir. The charges apparently too ignoble for repentance, I brace to bear the brunt and bile of sentence. Her glib-gab gores each guilty glance. Each chapter claimed by circumstance. Her words a whip, envenomed lace, lashed out anew upon my face. It matters not that he’s elsewhere, I stand accused for the genes I wear. I’d serve notice now, demand redress, if he hadn’t eloped to a vague address. The urge to silent scream? Repressed. Repeal rejected, defence disbarred. Appeal affected, mis-trial marred. A deafeningly dead deal is on the cards. I pause perpetually and play the clock, Until “New Witness!!” echoes around the dock. Youngest courtroom entrant in our history, identity unknown and gender still a mystery. “Oh, look how wonderful this is!” coos the judge. Now as sticky sweet and seasonal as fudge. “Of course this cherub must approach the bench, with the defendant as mouthpiece to represent”. “Pray tell, sinner, its testimony loud and clear" *Cue a minor mandate that only I can hear * A pause. A private parley. The pup's prose presented without palaver: “I will grow, just like my father”.
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May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 3:20 PM UTC
Repeat Offender
“YOU’RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER!” screams the judge, wielding a whiskey and a weaponised Women’s Weekly, as I flare inside but choose instead to smile meekly.   Was my Dad the spawn of Jeffrey Dahmer? Or the bloke who used to watch Kojak, on a Sunday, in pyjamas? In fairness though, the absence of the villain of this piece, last seen clubbing in Ibiza with a girl who’s not his niece, does nothing to lighten this affair. Especially with his crimes bequeathed to me, his heir. The charges apparently too ignoble for repentance, I brace to bear the brunt and bile of sentence. Her glib-gab gores each guilty glance. Each chapter claimed by circumstance. Her words a whip, envenomed lace, lashed out anew upon my face. It matters not that he’s elsewhere, I stand accused for the genes I wear. I’d serve notice now, demand redress, if he hadn’t eloped to a vague address. The urge to silent scream? Repressed. Repeal rejected, defence disbarred. Appeal affected, mis-trial marred. A deafeningly dead deal is on the cards. I pause perpetually and play the clock, Until “New Witness!!” echoes around the dock. Youngest courtroom entrant in our history, identity unknown and gender still a mystery. “Oh, look how wonderful this is!” coos the judge. Now as sticky sweet and seasonal as fudge. “Of course this cherub must approach the bench, with the defendant as mouthpiece to represent”. “Pray tell, sinner, its testimony loud and clear" *Cue a minor mandate that only I can hear * A pause. A private parley. The pup's prose presented without palaver: “I will grow, just like my father”.
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37
Repeal and replace A two-way Constitutional race Realign and rotate Put pressure Upon the states Information Is sometimes fake Even if it were true And the other sides Unlike us Were winning too It could never cure What's ailing The rest Of the human zoo ...
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Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 11:54 AM UTC
Implicit Amendment
remembering moments on hilltops, suspended in the sky, we were the fibers in a weaving, close knit in lingering patterns of threes and four. do you wonder about this freshwater ocean that blossoms at my feet I wonder of the appeal and the repeal of the oak trees that always sang me to sleep, and carried me into the light I've long had this obsession with windows alight, when the air shimmers with floating pieces of lives in technicolor, I have something to watch as I lie, wide-eyed and left to soak through the evening; you see, no matter how tightly I knit the people in my life to my chest, I am always left twenty feet apart from them when I need them most for keeping me in touch. four, five, six, seven, eight. trapped in my own prison of increasing daylight, I drink coffee after coffee and fret about the things I haven't done, and the feet of clothing piling up on my floorboards. within the scope of a week there are three solid days where I am unable to knit myself properly, truly together. a half-sodden cloak of apathy, drenched by rain-misted windows and thimbles of oak pollen I've sewn to my heart to remind myself of the four years I haven't talked to my father, of two closely knit souls bitten apart by youth and distance. the days when I softened the slight pulls at your shoulder blades, where I could see miles and miles of a life in shades of red. I'm burying myself in the sludge of desperation, I am fifty feet under the swirling surface of a frosted lake michigan, clutching my feet in a position where no one can hear a word. I am left to croak when I'm aching to scream, **** it, **** you, I knew of this mess I'm in, blistering in the cold, one thousand one hundred thirty-nine point five miles, four years I had to take and knew you wouldn't wait." light creeping in on the horizon while I sip my twelfth coffee, carefully knit between my comforter and the sheets. I've never had the patience to knit; I'm a wanderer, a dreamer, a vagabond on feet bound by restlessness and the ache of a lifetime spent catching the flight of the wind on a clear autumn day. I notice the shaking of my body while I soak in the trembling of treetops, the bursting of my seams for things I can't have, the running of hands over fabric worn thin. I had men I could have knit and purled, I had trees I might've loved like texas oak, I had feet, I had solid friends in fifteens and four; I had these in the light, but I caved to find you lost within
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Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 5:54 AM UTC
I told you to be patient, I told you to be fine
remembering moments on hilltops, suspended in the sky, we were the fibers in a weaving, close knit in lingering patterns of threes and four. do you wonder about this freshwater ocean that blossoms at my feet I wonder of the appeal and the repeal of the oak trees that always sang me to sleep, and carried me into the light I've long had this obsession with windows alight, when the air shimmers with floating pieces of lives in technicolor, I have something to watch as I lie, wide-eyed and left to soak through the evening; you see, no matter how tightly I knit the people in my life to my chest, I am always left twenty feet apart from them when I need them most for keeping me in touch. four, five, six, seven, eight. trapped in my own prison of increasing daylight, I drink coffee after coffee and fret about the things I haven't done, and the feet of clothing piling up on my floorboards. within the scope of a week there are three solid days where I am unable to knit myself properly, truly together. a half-sodden cloak of apathy, drenched by rain-misted windows and thimbles of oak pollen I've sewn to my heart to remind myself of the four years I haven't talked to my father, of two closely knit souls bitten apart by youth and distance. the days when I softened the slight pulls at your shoulder blades, where I could see miles and miles of a life in shades of red. I'm burying myself in the sludge of desperation, I am fifty feet under the swirling surface of a frosted lake michigan, clutching my feet in a position where no one can hear a word. I am left to croak when I'm aching to scream, **** it, **** you, I knew of this mess I'm in, blistering in the cold, one thousand one hundred thirty-nine point five miles, four years I had to take and knew you wouldn't wait." light creeping in on the horizon while I sip my twelfth coffee, carefully knit between my comforter and the sheets. I've never had the patience to knit; I'm a wanderer, a dreamer, a vagabond on feet bound by restlessness and the ache of a lifetime spent catching the flight of the wind on a clear autumn day. I notice the shaking of my body while I soak in the trembling of treetops, the bursting of my seams for things I can't have, the running of hands over fabric worn thin. I had men I could have knit and purled, I had trees I might've loved like texas oak, I had feet, I had solid friends in fifteens and four; I had these in the light, but I caved to find you lost within
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Spears from eyes Devour your face Repeal reality of you
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Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
Disgrace... -10 W-
i've got a fixation for your eyes,        your eloquent form controls my mind,        if you don't care, i'd like to stay awhile,        hours are cheap, so how about the night? i'm allured by your laughs at my feeble tries,       when you repeal my determination,        i will remind my adoration isn't in short supply,        where did we land on the night? i'm an addict when it comes to being a part of your life.
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Dec 23, 2010
Dec 23, 2010 at 1:07 PM UTC
the december address
MINE by the divine right of Kings correction! Blessed I am by his royal seal! - Within his Love selection, That no Thief may steal. Thou is mine - here in vision; Veto Death's repeal - Dated, titled - with perfect precision! And forevermore be mine, while the ages kneel!
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Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 11:42 AM UTC
Mine