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"retention" poems
us humans haven't quite cleaned up everyday we send nasty chemicals spiraling up which invariably stuffs the ozone layer up our polluting of this rim of protection continually goes on we're not holding the pollutants in retention which shows we're damaging its convention there needs to be more innovative ideas developed to subdue the ***** air which we humans keep overly producing here and everywhere so as the ultra violet streams don't not become too extreme they do irreparable harm and give cause for alarm   we humans have an obligation to our planet's ozone cover by not sullying its protective sheath   with tons of polluting smother
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Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC
Ozone Layer
To even commence to define how profoundly I fell in love with you, I would need the capacity of a thousand-page manuscript written in the most romantic idiom. Each, and every retention of us is stowed into the back of my conscious, and concealed deep into my heart. Every beautiful memory plays through my head like soft music. I would say my heart is immovable.  There are days that I try to sojourn the thoughts of you, but its intolerable for me to do so. I am so engulfed in your perfection. I do not think there has been a single day that you have escaped my thoughts. I can feel your presence with me if I ponder our memories deeply enough. Your presence weighs heavily in my heart. It is as if part of your soul occupies its crevasses, and fills my cracks. Your eyes are echoes of a hundred distant galaxies no man has ever revealed. Vast windows that reflect the constellations. My heart is certain the universe resides in them. As I begin to study your face, I feel like nothing but love can exist. Your porcelain perfection never ceases to weaken me. You weaken me with love, trust, and desire. Like the finest specimen created by the hands of Gods. As I anticipate the connotation of love, the implication is “you”. Even if the fire for what you feel for me dies, I do not reason the passion I have for you will ever dim. I do not begin to recollect if I had ever felt this susceptible. I let this passion be valued like the rarest stone. I would give up the entire world if it meant I could have you in my life endlessly. Your happiness is of grave importance to me, when I study your smile, I can overlook the darkness of this decaying reality.    Every heartbeat of time my mouth declares three unpretentious words. “I love you”. I say it like an invocation. Not one moment did my tongue express profanity against these golden words of poetry. I love you. “ I Love You” . And solitarily just you.   I wallow in my own sorrows at the thought of the culmination, when we shall one day part at death's hand. For I deeply distinguish that you love me equally, and this brings vast pleasure to my temperament. I sense security in your encirclement, your heart is my home. My heart qualms of my fragile weakness that I consume when I dream of you. You make me susceptible to the sickness of love. If love was a poem, you would be the title.
0
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 10:30 PM UTC
If Love Was A Poem, That Poem Would Be You.
To even commence to define how profoundly I fell in love with you, I would need the capacity of a thousand-page manuscript written in the most romantic idiom. Each, and every retention of us is stowed into the back of my conscious, and concealed deep into my heart. Every beautiful memory plays through my head like soft music. I would say my heart is immovable.  There are days that I try to sojourn the thoughts of you, but its intolerable for me to do so. I am so engulfed in your perfection. I do not think there has been a single day that you have escaped my thoughts. I can feel your presence with me if I ponder our memories deeply enough. Your presence weighs heavily in my heart. It is as if part of your soul occupies its crevasses, and fills my cracks. Your eyes are echoes of a hundred distant galaxies no man has ever revealed. Vast windows that reflect the constellations. My heart is certain the universe resides in them. As I begin to study your face, I feel like nothing but love can exist. Your porcelain perfection never ceases to weaken me. You weaken me with love, trust, and desire. Like the finest specimen created by the hands of Gods. As I anticipate the connotation of love, the implication is “you”. Even if the fire for what you feel for me dies, I do not reason the passion I have for you will ever dim. I do not begin to recollect if I had ever felt this susceptible. I let this passion be valued like the rarest stone. I would give up the entire world if it meant I could have you in my life endlessly. Your happiness is of grave importance to me, when I study your smile, I can overlook the darkness of this decaying reality.    Every heartbeat of time my mouth declares three unpretentious words. “I love you”. I say it like an invocation. Not one moment did my tongue express profanity against these golden words of poetry. I love you. “ I Love You” . And solitarily just you.   I wallow in my own sorrows at the thought of the culmination, when we shall one day part at death's hand. For I deeply distinguish that you love me equally, and this brings vast pleasure to my temperament. I sense security in your encirclement, your heart is my home. My heart qualms of my fragile weakness that I consume when I dream of you. You make me susceptible to the sickness of love. If love was a poem, you would be the title.
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28
My pretty friend, the definition, ...a Chopin-esque romantic, needing intervention frantically resilient, a mere honorable mention ...burning for forgiveness with hypertension Craving your redemption. In the secret section you mention ...there's tension in your confession another missed connection ...misled by another's deception the impression on the connection ...a misconception on another selection rejection is a whole new obsession ...this seventh dimension perception the impression is to employ prevention. Because Attention Attention!! ...need I not mention there's no landing affections ...just internal tension my infection is your retention ...misappropriation. ......misapprehension.
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 10:09 AM UTC
Attention Attention!
Lines of life through gene transmission When handed down through ***** Tho’ rugged, sound or sickly matched, Are caste about like coins. Luck ensures a robust chance Of longevity and health With intelligence or dolt hood As a final gauge to wealth. Traits of blue eyed, fair haired lovelies Brown eyed, freckled, long of limb, Temperaments across the spectrum Placid fat to fiery slim. Aptitude to run the long race Good endurance, depth of heart, Lady luck decrees their worth Tho' the Priesthood may depart. Frontal lobes of clear retention Heightened rationale of thought, Reasons through the problematic, Resolutions made as ought. Capacity to empathise In tears of joy and sorrow spent, Capacity for true belief When wrong is righted with repent. Goodness and black evil Are caste about like chaff, Depends upon the show of cards Who laughs the final laugh. Conscience can be virtuous But then, so can be greed, Depends upon the circumstance And if approached at speed. And finally indulgence Plays a massive hand in this, For love and lust determine If a union is remiss. And should that union founder, Should Lady Luck throw in her hand ...You can blame it on the chromosomes Which confounds the Makers stand! Marshalg @theBach Mangere Bridge 14 June 2011
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Jun 13, 2011
Jun 13, 2011 at 8:42 PM UTC
March of the Chromosomes.
seven pages of carefully picked words arranged and placed where they'll get the biggest bang for your buck because you never leave the house without a goal no, I wasn't astounded to find that when you cut away the hair that used to cover your ears you were even more deaf, than before your great you know that charm, it shows a smile and slicked back hair style and you make the rounds safe and sound behind the sunshine image that you've questionably earned but I made sure to go light on the accessories tonight and there is nothing to stop the clairvoyance that fights its way to my mind hidden behind my eyes brown and smiling long exiling thoughts of you being like this but you didnt hear a word i said no point in discussing your retention I'll ask although I already know have you ever not been the center of attention
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Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 11:20 PM UTC
I question your liking for me being shorter than you
breaking moans slick as stones force of my savage form dipping my fingers in a lake of cotton and honey a marvel, the way the moon reflects my absolute need it's funny, how i become a beast when i cannot choke back the tension oh the tension, the retention of all thoughts from this week why must my ecstasy be a secret that i have to keep?
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Jun 7, 2025
Jun 7, 2025 at 8:50 PM UTC
[not for the shy]
I had once herd a tale of both gooblins and goblins that hide by the house on the hill full of robins where no cats would lie not a feline in site in that case nor a horse and toboggan If when the sun set by your luck you'd have met a most suddenly sense, you'll most likely regret to inform that the norm is is most vital a chorus recital while sleeping, the feeling is seeping of course,   he fears for the reaping To come? Is it done? has it happened? No third party captions his captor a mind full of rapture to hear ever after a rapping, a tapping his own hands just clapping the door doesn't move but the grooves in the wall are expanding these dreams so demanding Demented dimensions his body retention of fear and the queer have him panting gasps without asking a sublime such as this and the temperance of bliss have the curtains been called or is it all but a miss guided ventures of vengeance His soul but a remnance of courage is left in the depths and before us he slept such a man who believes in trees where the robins at ease do enjoy such a breeze That breath air in the room where he lay quite awake Till his wake
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Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 12:15 AM UTC
The doubt
Foster, what family? Lower class, dream of  vacation ******** what trickles down, affecting a life situation White to Blue Collar; a rebuild or invasion? Millions inside the boxes of convention Justified superficial, backhanded salutations Refute Love, proposed as mankind’s invention Pulled by a string of instant gratification Finding freedom’s temporary If ever, long term locations Constricted, system of classifications The socially admissible connections, Not to mention gangs of corrections Flowing through the previous, my own generation For the infinite hours One after the other Trade integrity for the illusion of power Not all those with a gun should be considered a coward Face the souls sold on Wall Street, Remember those from Twin Towers Ground zero, abandoned. Now bare, desolate The idea of terrorism denied, while some wrestle it Rationales dislocate, post hairline fracture Frontal lobe imposter, posing in rapture As if talent, love, or hate could ever be captured Held at gun point, then forgotten years after My children will one day look to me for the answer What’s society, this twisted maze we live in? I will gaze in their eyes with the same exact question And don’t ever allow me again not to mention Real criminals can’t learn from minute or life-long detentions Some incapable of that level of retention As our battered soldiers forever sleep at attention Politically correct, tongues in consistent hesitation Kiss police *** only to go to the station Before the thought of who signed the citation Treated as if it were a felony violation Our basic rights according to our nation Arizona & Co for minority elimination Die fighting the statute of poverty’s limitations vi.i.xi
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Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 6:22 AM UTC
Statute Of Limitations
Foster, what family? Lower class, dream of  vacation ******** what trickles down, affecting a life situation White to Blue Collar; a rebuild or invasion? Millions inside the boxes of convention Justified superficial, backhanded salutations Refute Love, proposed as mankind’s invention Pulled by a string of instant gratification Finding freedom’s temporary If ever, long term locations Constricted, system of classifications The socially admissible connections, Not to mention gangs of corrections Flowing through the previous, my own generation For the infinite hours One after the other Trade integrity for the illusion of power Not all those with a gun should be considered a coward Face the souls sold on Wall Street, Remember those from Twin Towers Ground zero, abandoned. Now bare, desolate The idea of terrorism denied, while some wrestle it Rationales dislocate, post hairline fracture Frontal lobe imposter, posing in rapture As if talent, love, or hate could ever be captured Held at gun point, then forgotten years after My children will one day look to me for the answer What’s society, this twisted maze we live in? I will gaze in their eyes with the same exact question And don’t ever allow me again not to mention Real criminals can’t learn from minute or life-long detentions Some incapable of that level of retention As our battered soldiers forever sleep at attention Politically correct, tongues in consistent hesitation Kiss police *** only to go to the station Before the thought of who signed the citation Treated as if it were a felony violation Our basic rights according to our nation Arizona & Co for minority elimination Die fighting the statute of poverty’s limitations vi.i.xi
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40
Walking, always walking, Puzzled youth being funneled like cattle, Seek shelter from the sun, Jeer and poke at each other, All from the safety of their cell phones. Constantly seeking that one undesired retention Of jukebox explosion catapults. Thrusting us deeper into the mind/brain paradox What is this? What are these strange mutterings in the dark? Babysitting wasp nests by electro shock railroads, Disgust in the face of the many. Where is this golden eclipse we’re all waiting for? How can I not see the spiders on my windowsill? Are these anguished, infantile youth truly desired? Aggravated Neanderthal men Try to impress pulsating goddesses of Light, All to no prevail. Sickening feeling in the gut, Why aren’t you here? Well I suppose, Things have changed. The Empress of the tunnel Seeks out the empire halls Of the tunnel-bound angst, Musicians in the hall strumming There thoughtless musings, While the the debutantes watch and listen. The intensity is unbearable to them, They must seek shelter in their ipods. Milk, must have it. Watching them creep through the cafe, May they one day find what they’re seeking. Where are they? Sitting here by myself, Look at them jeering at each other In their own jargons. Have they seeked out the pleasure of life? Dream-like meditations, Well-rounded views of life, Happiness within. Dumbly smile at each other, Seeking closeness, Mind/body consciousness
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Feb 28, 2011
Feb 28, 2011 at 1:05 PM UTC
Youth
No hope brought nor thought! Not from the dope or the pope! Or the imaginary rope, tightly around my throat. As I boast, as I note and quote! These bright, white halls and walls surround me in dumbfound! Stare crazy, frenzy, hazy and lazy... A squire in dire! A squire in fire and need! Shadow’s greed, conspiring too feed in desire, on my admire, inspire, perspire and wires. Stare crazy, frenzy, hazy and lazy... Hey, they say I’m insane in the brain! Despite the real pain of the sprains and strain! Despite these wires I feel in my veins. In spite of the constant, existent, insistent and persistent rain. Stare crazy, frenzy, hazy and lazy... Forgotten directions, recollections and revelations. Insecure affections and seducing reflections. Stare crazy, frenzy, hazy and lazy... Once more adhering, enduring, fearing the nearing, the infection, the rejection and injections! The ongoing detention and retention! Stare crazy, frenzy, hazy and lazy... At times I dread in my head! Those crimes and prime rhymes that sing of dreams, gleams, themes and things are not as they seem! Stare crazy, frenzy, hazy and lazy…
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Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 10:03 PM UTC
POEM ENTITLED: “STARE CRAZY”
a desolate deception of hopeless self expression a perceptive inception of artistic retention is this a conversation? or a list of movie quotes? pop cultures ascension to our first world dimension feel the tension... feel the pulling of the mind as we spit rhymes about hate crimes ignored for an episode of Family Guy is this truly the vision of the revolution of rhythm cause it seems more like derision or apathetic decision speaking of dismantling systems when we're all caught up in them when will we be finished? when we get off our ***** and take molotovs to tyranny instead of crying in beer glasses will that amend the cracks in foundation or just be a punchline we take breaks in the morning noon and nighttime and we havent been fine in a long time with cops murdering and wars being waged we're more concerned with grocery lines and making a good wage lets end currency cause its holding us back and let our abilities have the first crack spread the wealth of the knowledge of a skill or a trade help those who are enfeebled to make a way and do it because its the right thing to do not because you want a soul indebted to you property is robbery its as simple as that so raise your black flag and lets take freedom back
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Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 5:28 PM UTC
Improper Property
I do not want to pile on, But I am in sweet pain, Just below the belt... Pain due to nervousness, My dad was unwell, He got successfully operated... He's my dear guardian Angel, Sustained injury whilst protecting me, I escaped with minor gashes. He's undoubtedly the best father, There may be any trouble on me, But he's always standing on guard. I strive to make my father feel proud, And though I often fail to make him feel so, I shall not give up hope that I shall make him feel proud. Right now, I am in pain, I am unable to urinate. But this pain is bearable, I shall now help him recover, My life is his blessings all over.
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Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 3:51 PM UTC
Retention is the Tension (Lighthearted)
Planting - a memory retention an attempt at reparation a small mitigation an intrinsic notion of good a wooden blessing a happy healing - a tree
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Feb 22, 2022
Feb 22, 2022 at 10:43 AM UTC
Planting trees
She wore an air of mysticism Her memory bore prophetic visions From ancient egyptian And judaic traditions She knows every star system And every night is a mission Where she wishes and wishes For help from the legends Feeling the kundalini extension A timeless moment in meditation She rode a chariot of ascension With many faces Facing in all directions Interpreting new races There was Communication retention in Multidimensional dimensions And convoluted intentions Creating dense tension Leaving her in suspension Then, there was a call for attention And she witnessed the mention Of helping Earths' ascension Words whispered with foreign inflections Melted away her apprehensions With familiar definitions And promising space faring inventions
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Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 11:44 AM UTC
Ascension
"If you're not outraged, you're not paying attention." It's all the white supremacist the president fails to mention. It's all these racist institutions that only aim for the retention, of all people of color still fighting against oppression. And all this lack of action is only building up the tension. I see all the reaction, I feel the apprehension. The impact still remains, regardless of intention. And if we remain silent, we continue the suppression.
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Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 2:59 AM UTC
Charlottesville 2017
The smell of sulphate, emanating from that accursed thing, its aura glistened, seemingly smouldering . But when the breath of life died beneath sunset, A Spector of ill conceived retention contemplated. Daybreak was mutilated upon the sight. established placidity..
0
May 3, 2020
May 3, 2020 at 5:06 PM UTC
Chair Bound In Survitude
He beams as he enters my bedroom Holding a glass bottle Bout a liter with a light label Ether? (i was already down a hot dessert road with a pint of it in the back on the way to Las Vegas in a red sportscar) No my son Embalming fluid Quickly we scrounge for money And with almost zero effort We had an eighth of some funk We feel rich as we walk And the rain falls A good omen As we smoke a cigarette near the retention pond A falcon picked up a black snake and carried it over the trees Marijuana soaked in embalming fluid The bodies are emptied and filled to help slow down decomposition He reads from Encyclopedia Britannica about embalming I imagine ancient  humans sitting around a fire in the center of the dessert They are throwing  massive amounts of marijuana on the fire Inventing gods and dancing They were each dipped and allowed to fully dry We talk about all the **** our egos have snagged lately As he packs The hit Like plastic to the tongue My lungs become black in an instant Filled with an acrid white smoke Exhale the soul **** that was fast* Stillness in everything The building vibration at the base of my skull Reverberating through me each word         Spirals off into thousands Of volumes of information The processing power Of the machine Capable of this existence the psychotic episode of existence It tries to talk Surely it thinks it is something How fine it is to know that it will all one day end In an instant neither dark nor light I will die And I have no fear of this An instant of life Boiling over to its brim in thoughts To feel one moment of true ignorant blissful love of another soul Love just another reaction to instinct That we love to label with Big long pages of words And inventions to make Them faster until everyone knows what life should be like
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Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 1:07 AM UTC
Ha Ha Wet
He beams as he enters my bedroom Holding a glass bottle Bout a liter with a light label Ether? (i was already down a hot dessert road with a pint of it in the back on the way to Las Vegas in a red sportscar) No my son Embalming fluid Quickly we scrounge for money And with almost zero effort We had an eighth of some funk We feel rich as we walk And the rain falls A good omen As we smoke a cigarette near the retention pond A falcon picked up a black snake and carried it over the trees Marijuana soaked in embalming fluid The bodies are emptied and filled to help slow down decomposition He reads from Encyclopedia Britannica about embalming I imagine ancient  humans sitting around a fire in the center of the dessert They are throwing  massive amounts of marijuana on the fire Inventing gods and dancing They were each dipped and allowed to fully dry We talk about all the **** our egos have snagged lately As he packs The hit Like plastic to the tongue My lungs become black in an instant Filled with an acrid white smoke Exhale the soul **** that was fast* Stillness in everything The building vibration at the base of my skull Reverberating through me each word         Spirals off into thousands Of volumes of information The processing power Of the machine Capable of this existence the psychotic episode of existence It tries to talk Surely it thinks it is something How fine it is to know that it will all one day end In an instant neither dark nor light I will die And I have no fear of this An instant of life Boiling over to its brim in thoughts To feel one moment of true ignorant blissful love of another soul Love just another reaction to instinct That we love to label with Big long pages of words And inventions to make Them faster until everyone knows what life should be like
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52
Wishing your hands might fuse with my ******* and that your phallus, flaccid, -just the way I like to taste it more- may set in my mouth its lightest traces, may reborn, helped by saliva, which is full of poems, and then you *** and we both become some crude socialists, or communists, or wherever you like the most. Then you take my red ***** as your communist flag, and recite your manifest before it. And then my nails painted with desire, dovetail with your left arm, -tattooed of what your soul unvoiced- and become draw a turquoise butterfly, emulating me, and then, an ****** beyond re-surge, that will go from sadism to communism, and from metamorphosis to ****** and if while I write you this, my *** is getting wet, little by little, getting full of my sacred elixir –according to your mouth- perambulate my ****** -self-possessed and palpitating- and if my mind doesn’t do anything else but imagining you, raining white over my shoulders, and my back, and my hair, and nothing matters then, because it’s voluntary retention, and your ******* friend Marx is next to you, and not me, that I’m just listening arias, and smoke, slowly smoke, towards your savage, flaccid, tasty *** always present in my mind, and my lonely ***
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Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
And then, communists...
We are a bad design For example; A vain person disgusted with the same person in every reflection What insane being had the unmitigated gall to be insertin' that complication into a person Self-deprivation an infection of a mind nurtured from inception Do I even need to mention the who, what, where, why and when of my formation ...I've heard it said over and over again... It's the creator of all creation, although I don't know where they're getting their information I've read Genesis through Revolutions over and over again, no revelation A costly salvation, so much rejection for every little infraction Never seen an open invitation with so much expectation ...not a single one of us are getting in... We're designed to sin due to his lust for "discipline" lookin' down at the chaos with a menacing grin A master of manipulation, the "do what I say not what I do" origin If he's who we're based on then he's who the worst of you see in your reflection "God is good" should be turned into a question though I understand the hesitation ...I know the fear it's based in... Not even a good god adaptation, parts of old religion taken and added to your own doctrine Each page of "his words" a contradiction of the last no matter the translation It's always been, it's not just now going through a mutation Under face value it's basic power retention, not somethin' they'll be changin' ...you're in for a rude awakenin'... Be smart, search your mind not your heart, that's only for circulation It's lifespan based on repetition, same mission as the Reverend and fellow brethren This whole things a set up, a con, a lie that people won't stop spreadin' And if the threat of eternal damnation is the only thing keepin' you from sinnin' then listen ...those morals are set by an immoral faction... ©2023
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Dec 29, 2023
Dec 29, 2023 at 2:47 PM UTC
~•§•~ Morals Set by the Immoral ~•§•~
We are a bad design For example; A vain person disgusted with the same person in every reflection What insane being had the unmitigated gall to be insertin' that complication into a person Self-deprivation an infection of a mind nurtured from inception Do I even need to mention the who, what, where, why and when of my formation ...I've heard it said over and over again... It's the creator of all creation, although I don't know where they're getting their information I've read Genesis through Revolutions over and over again, no revelation A costly salvation, so much rejection for every little infraction Never seen an open invitation with so much expectation ...not a single one of us are getting in... We're designed to sin due to his lust for "discipline" lookin' down at the chaos with a menacing grin A master of manipulation, the "do what I say not what I do" origin If he's who we're based on then he's who the worst of you see in your reflection "God is good" should be turned into a question though I understand the hesitation ...I know the fear it's based in... Not even a good god adaptation, parts of old religion taken and added to your own doctrine Each page of "his words" a contradiction of the last no matter the translation It's always been, it's not just now going through a mutation Under face value it's basic power retention, not somethin' they'll be changin' ...you're in for a rude awakenin'... Be smart, search your mind not your heart, that's only for circulation It's lifespan based on repetition, same mission as the Reverend and fellow brethren This whole things a set up, a con, a lie that people won't stop spreadin' And if the threat of eternal damnation is the only thing keepin' you from sinnin' then listen ...those morals are set by an immoral faction... ©2023
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28
am i worth your while? can i be your one and only focus will you be the daddy i've needed since i was a child why should i ask you to be what you should want to be? am i too old for attention? am i too big for affection? is maturity affliction? is my reality twisted by my retention? when you see me i become a different person am i not silent or feeble enough? is my exterior too rough, or my interior too tough? what makes me separate from who i was before i don't recall changing in those seconds. you said i was sweet before more cute and interesting than any other i'm smart, just as long as i don't stop being normal and if i look the part, you'll love me evermore? i can't shrink myself down to quaint size i can't make my voice an octave higher if that can't changed to a might or if it did, you may offer a maybe i'd drop everything in a second for a chance to be your baby.
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Jan 24, 2025
Jan 24, 2025 at 5:25 AM UTC
baby, or - to costume as something you should be
Hometown cutie You've got the best of my attention Send all those haters to detention You've got my retention So i'm going to pay attention To your needs, wants and desires If only you listen.
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Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 12:58 AM UTC
Hometown Cutie
It's a dim & drizzly Memorial Monday Hell, it could be Sunday or any other day these daze The BBQ pickin party's cancelled due 2 more rain and things finacial We did not escape the flooding after all the AC was out on the hottest day I recall the heat & humidity is so oppressive makes one's instincts blur & become panic obsessive On a day set aside for all to remember Those who gave all & did not surrender Is marked with a lack of labor & shopping mall sales No football, no banking, no courts & no snail mail So I'll have another chunk of dat brownie and wash in down with some good ol' Tenessee JD Take another puff & drive another nail in my coffin Until my head stops aching & can stop coughing What will dis day bring? Maybe I'll just sit alone with my guitar & sing Play me some blues cause the mortgage is due the roof is still leaking, two cats have nine kittens & I'm blue I'm so broke I can't pay attention to all of the things that I owe I've lost my retention YA, I got dem steadily depressin' Low down mind missin' Everything is way past due I got dem Memorial Blues Append Just had 2 write dis 2 get my daze started, U all have happy :) Memorial Day, Doc
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May 31, 2010
May 31, 2010 at 8:40 AM UTC
I Got Dem Memorial Blues
...Woolen sleep mask atop a wolf's muzzle... the amplitude of retention and snap. Storifying vibrations/impressions... collated for pickled dreams... lives? Konstantinos Mark
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Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 11:49 PM UTC
Collated for Pickled Dreams
A mist lingers, Haunting and cruel. Carrying with it the fountain of youth. Filled with lies, Advertised with truth. Clouding our senses, Tempting defenses, All in attempt to keep us defenseless. Blind to lust, Overt trust, Miscommunication becoming our crutch. Victims to the stereotypical dream, Swindled by the constant need to be. Bound by such inconstancy, Which leads to our fleeting authenticity. Sharing connection, But never attention. Festering wounds destroying retention. Yet somehow, I still see forever. A mist lingers, But then again, It never quite left.
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Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 1:56 PM UTC
Siempre.
You were a masterpiece beyond comprehension But it was about staying with retention And the going was vastly overwhelming The situation was too unrealistic to keep pursuing Some ends were never meant to be tied I'm sorry if i lied I hold myself accountable for the crimes i commit A train a little over the transit Has the right mindset, wrong pace and approach.
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Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 2:32 AM UTC
Over The Transit