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"reprehension" poems
The virtuous society Lost regulates overwhelming                                DISTASTEFUL                                Condescension Depraved citizens all contained then become cynical                                BREAKING                                 Reprehension A mandate or suggestive guideline to think like a criminal
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 5:56 PM UTC
Savvy in 2014
Try as I might To ignore the insufferable Clamorous racking my brain All too audible Are these despicable Sickening shrill Voices wicked, malicious, Insipid kids still Instigating and baiting Me closer to spill My contempt vitriol Seething passion to **** Every little last filth-frothing Mouth to feed dead Bottom-fed in this Stress-induce cesspool are bred In an **** of virulent, Ignorant stench Still entrenching my senses In sieges of tension And drenching my clenching jaws In reprehension Spat out in the face Of this whole human race But mostly just this Poor excuse for its waste
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Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 6:10 AM UTC
Garbage Pail Kids
How to approach something so intangible, with little cellular to describe to my nerves How to make verbal something so emotional, based on psychology and civil construction How to perceive myself appropriately despite the eroding drips that pierce progress and old photos I cling to with such immaturity These questions all are for the same goal, that progression of the self, all those substantial, cerebral, sensual and societal realisations that I yearn for And yet... I sit, making delusional dreams come true in screens, I sit, making deep intellectual arguments for causes that aren't my own, I sit, researching complicated **** ups and ****** withs the powerful inflict in their attempts to balance a system born broken and biased Screens are our new ****** it seems, as we reject religion our screens let us forget that the world continues around us, or encourage us not to care And I come to this self consciousness, this ironic hypocritical reprehension Because I really enjoy what all these creative minds and years of work and beauteous ideas have given me, but with the same hypocritical tone, despise my compulsion to stare into pixels As I indulge this self awareness, I know I will continue with the same mental obesity of consumption tomorrow And there will be no hypocritical self evaluation, just self involved enjoyment Until the moments come when I am left alone with my mind Self conscious, reflective, feeling as the time has been lost, but my mind is too tranquilised with pixel and poster representations of reality to notice This won't change but... Maybe if I take some time to turn pages rather than press buttons, and stare at sunsets rather than screens That self evaluative journey I've ignored and returned to sporadically in the reflective yet warm darkness would be less intimidating And if nothing else, on those days where reality lies next to me filling my cerebral stomach with the undeniably existential I might feel a bit better about those days lost to other people's stories
0
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 7:24 PM UTC
Square eyes
How to approach something so intangible, with little cellular to describe to my nerves How to make verbal something so emotional, based on psychology and civil construction How to perceive myself appropriately despite the eroding drips that pierce progress and old photos I cling to with such immaturity These questions all are for the same goal, that progression of the self, all those substantial, cerebral, sensual and societal realisations that I yearn for And yet... I sit, making delusional dreams come true in screens, I sit, making deep intellectual arguments for causes that aren't my own, I sit, researching complicated **** ups and ****** withs the powerful inflict in their attempts to balance a system born broken and biased Screens are our new ****** it seems, as we reject religion our screens let us forget that the world continues around us, or encourage us not to care And I come to this self consciousness, this ironic hypocritical reprehension Because I really enjoy what all these creative minds and years of work and beauteous ideas have given me, but with the same hypocritical tone, despise my compulsion to stare into pixels As I indulge this self awareness, I know I will continue with the same mental obesity of consumption tomorrow And there will be no hypocritical self evaluation, just self involved enjoyment Until the moments come when I am left alone with my mind Self conscious, reflective, feeling as the time has been lost, but my mind is too tranquilised with pixel and poster representations of reality to notice This won't change but... Maybe if I take some time to turn pages rather than press buttons, and stare at sunsets rather than screens That self evaluative journey I've ignored and returned to sporadically in the reflective yet warm darkness would be less intimidating And if nothing else, on those days where reality lies next to me filling my cerebral stomach with the undeniably existential I might feel a bit better about those days lost to other people's stories
Continue reading...
17
She falls in love with rejection The lack of attention She may need an intervention But it cant be prevented The mere mention Of self descension Wraps her mind in a new dimension She falls for degradation And cant help her fascination She is stuck in a contravention Which leads to sleep deprivation He is not easy to fool She thinks in admiration She is in love with rejection and his never ending reprehension
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Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 7:53 PM UTC
in love with rejection
our choices leave us little room to spare as day and night in sequence go by fast no decent case of dignity to wear and vision that suggests more cause to fear in the cold present than in the dim past our choices leave us little room to spare for reprehension at the sullen year that it has been the truth is all miscast no decent case of dignity to wear we're all frustrated all thrown in despair all fearful we will hear the final blast our choices leave us little room to spare for any of the goods that we should bear since our great goal will never be surpassed no decent case of dignity to wear when we confront the enemy or dare the final gate that victory's the last our choices leave us little room to spare no decent case of dignity to wear
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Jul 22, 2012
Jul 22, 2012 at 1:39 PM UTC
a piece of work
Now, let’s take it back to the start Rewind back to that part When you started feeling a bit less smart. When you started seeing things fall apart. It starts as a tired thought after a battle fought For some kind of restitution Against their reprehension In saying “death’s an intervention To an epidemic that is the creation Of you" You, muffled of all loud passion They graciously etched off your pride with a quarter And so you fought, and they thought you cheeky They sagaciously set aflame your hair with a lighter And so you forfeit, and they thought you easy It’s too easy, it being you, To hate, to hit, to abuse K to the Y to the S to the please They plead you to seize A moment to hate to hit to abuse yourself Please, please, cry a “farewell” To this world, to your mother, to their satisfaction Who cares, you're just some teen, dumb and ****** You thought a bang would get you a reaction But you’re way too easy
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Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 11:58 AM UTC
Way Too Easy
All alone in an unhappy place Where all the walls are mirrors And ugliness is looking back No matter which way I may turn. There doesn’t seem to be a door- Just only mirrored walls and ceiling. The cold floor hurts my shoeless feet As endlessly I pace in circles. The crowd of people in the glass Have followed me for many years Behind the curtains - in the shade- Never coming face to face. But here they now encounter me With looks of reprehension… And all I have to offer them Are bitter tears of sad regret ljm
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Apr 7, 2025
Apr 7, 2025 at 1:01 AM UTC
CONFRONTATION