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"revamp" poems
.                                                 what? between MC hammer... and men at work... there's a choice? come on... you could have given me an easier question, like... Debussy contra Satie... or, like...   egg yolk or egg white?! point being... i'd love to see christopher lambert play the role of raiden in that... mortal kombat game made into a motion picture... you know... if i owned a PS2... i'd still be a gamer... but i never owned a PS2.... or the metal gear solid 2 gaming experience... not the PS1 experience fighting ****** mantis*... you know that hack / cheat... when you switch controller slots... when ****** mantis* is giving his grandiose speech.. and you switch the controller ports, so that in in the game you're not predictable...    final fantasy 7?! completed it with a walk-through... sorry... homework... that being said: all of Friday night and all of Saturday morning... and some Tenchu.... wacky-Jacky...       cow later chow, enter mein...            choppers chop chop... these days? i game...            when i take a **** i figured... if there are people who take a book to the crapper... i'll take a game...     war robots....       you know what's fascinating? the interactive applicability of a game...                      team-work... mesmerizing...                 the whole gaming structure drifted from a narrative, to a congregational dynamism... solipsism unraveled... i dig the whole team work, while taking a **** love it... 5 stars review...      but am i a gamer... do i not think that a.i. is a revamp of Pinocchio? no...      but metal gear solid? a ******* solid game on PS1...        you would be talking to a gamer if i was allowed to buy a PS2 console...          oh right...   i read books and listened to music, and ended up writing anti-routine / anti-technicality poetry / anti-rhyme poetics....                                       my bad; "we're" calling a revision of chess in play; yeah... sorry...    i was never into paragraphs, with dialogue interludes... for me...   poems were always above a structural stature of paragraphs; something to do with haiku or... whatever came out of Godzilla's mouth.
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Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 11:05 PM UTC
simple questions for simple people
.                                                 what? between MC hammer... and men at work... there's a choice? come on... you could have given me an easier question, like... Debussy contra Satie... or, like...   egg yolk or egg white?! point being... i'd love to see christopher lambert play the role of raiden in that... mortal kombat game made into a motion picture... you know... if i owned a PS2... i'd still be a gamer... but i never owned a PS2.... or the metal gear solid 2 gaming experience... not the PS1 experience fighting ****** mantis*... you know that hack / cheat... when you switch controller slots... when ****** mantis* is giving his grandiose speech.. and you switch the controller ports, so that in in the game you're not predictable...    final fantasy 7?! completed it with a walk-through... sorry... homework... that being said: all of Friday night and all of Saturday morning... and some Tenchu.... wacky-Jacky...       cow later chow, enter mein...            choppers chop chop... these days? i game...            when i take a **** i figured... if there are people who take a book to the crapper... i'll take a game...     war robots....       you know what's fascinating? the interactive applicability of a game...                      team-work... mesmerizing...                 the whole gaming structure drifted from a narrative, to a congregational dynamism... solipsism unraveled... i dig the whole team work, while taking a **** love it... 5 stars review...      but am i a gamer... do i not think that a.i. is a revamp of Pinocchio? no...      but metal gear solid? a ******* solid game on PS1...        you would be talking to a gamer if i was allowed to buy a PS2 console...          oh right...   i read books and listened to music, and ended up writing anti-routine / anti-technicality poetry / anti-rhyme poetics....                                       my bad; "we're" calling a revision of chess in play; yeah... sorry...    i was never into paragraphs, with dialogue interludes... for me...   poems were always above a structural stature of paragraphs; something to do with haiku or... whatever came out of Godzilla's mouth.
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91
What do my memories taste like? There lies on my tongue— An atomic bomb: a purported speck, with no chicken pox skin situated upon such. I spat it out; I wobbled on and on, stomping the microscopic intensity into the sludge. No one sees; how pleasant… My shoe’s underside slit it— a paper cut broiled to the infinitude degree— Preposterous conundrum! Slam! I fulminate! I screech, the needy baby I am! My guttural heave strews in the wind: deformed limbs on the newer generations, an abysmal thread. Supposedly bland, but then: a guzzling bleed from you and I gushes on and on; but oh, was it needed! Listen to my writhing! Soak in my curdling roaring! I am the mafia mastermind, but I plead to guilt! The vandalism cannot be grated, but I will revamp, spot clean, and hunt for a vaccine. I cannot cure a scored scar, but rest assured: I will endeavor to solidify the clot.
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Aug 29, 2020
Aug 29, 2020 at 4:31 PM UTC
What Do My Memories Taste Like?
My jeans zip is popping My body's gone crazy Everyone is noticing My memory's a bit hazy. The once upright ******* are dropping and these flushes aren't for stopping. It's the hormones That's what it's about All around my middle I'm getting more stout. There's nowhere to hide There's nowhere to run My newly aquired mustache And chin hairs are fit to stun. I joined a club that weekly meet, They tell me all the can't haves, I just go home and eat. Don't have this, don't have that, I paid all that money just for a chat. My feet are still the same size shoe I could always buy them something new. Time passes quickly, teenage years gone, There's no more excuses to rely on. The one about puppy fat ran out long ago, So now it's time for a revamp From head to toe... © Hazel
0
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 3:28 PM UTC
HORMONES
**I am calling for my spirit guide to take me back to the lost haven of Atlantis.** Various medias Reach out to bug me, so I'm praying while they lie in wait like a mantis.   Dark lords Rain down plagues that sicken the mind, but I have the light which illuminates my advantage.   And so Into Imagi-nation I can successfully vanish, MANifesting a tangible reality, Proving I'm not one they can manage. Nature was never against Nurture, but the battle plays on just as they planned it.   You're more powerful than those behind screens, and your dreams will live when you demand it.   Think of your thought as a seed and plant it.   See your life within your third eye, It's now time to revamp it. Your vessel has been flying low seeking love, It's already within you -land it- We are one Once you understand it, Unto the you-niverse you can hand it Spark a fire of compassion and fan it This, is how, We expand bliss. Just Remember The list requires initiating imagination (like when we were kids) Miracles exist So long as you allow yourself to believe it
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Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 5:08 AM UTC
Esoteric until you can bare it (to the core)
a quart of tequila, still no feelings, spinning ceilings beneath me, in my venomous state, we went to comedy night at the viper room. torn to shreds in the front row, of a gung ** americanised show. i came because the river still flows, with depp and the stageshows from the whiskey a go go, directly opposite the pavement. the boulevard was full of cars, and homeless superstars, that made it far, but not past the stars on the walk of fame, Holly would never be the same again. ******* ******* we walked past the cast of a bottomless flask, cast in the shadows of the sorrows of rodeo drive, staying alive is easy, follow, the yellow brick road and wish for a dollar. tomorrow is another day. i seen a man of my same age, he was a traveller, vocabular immaculate, hair cut ****** dindn’t shave much, one of the same touch. grubby hands and unfinished plans. his sign said, were ****** i teared up, he looked up and stood up and we hugged. i could see me in his weird look. just another rhyme in my page book. i gave him a bag of survival necessities, i hunted him down after 24 hours. i was worried to go back, and finish what i started. i consider the concept as an artist, but the truth is this, the humanist within, could never miss that appointment. he sat there in the same spot, and if i didn’t come, he could of lost faith in the promise of a circumstance. i took a certain stance, he said he was a traveller, a poet with grubby hands, i held him with open arms. i don’t worry about him, i worry about you, a ***** and the truth, trumps and mansion and no use. i’ve read between the lines, and wrote this motion on tightropes and suspended emotion. they want a showman, but when we show them the ocean, the don’t want to know the deepest minds inclined. absolutley, mutiny in the ranks, my heart sank when you decided to revamp, your opinion of me implicitly. minor to me, skeleton key to multiple routes. i never gave a **** about your opinions then, and I certainly don't give a **** now, nor have i ever, stared the gift horse in the mouth.
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Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
Never Stare A Gift Horse In The Mouth
a quart of tequila, still no feelings, spinning ceilings beneath me, in my venomous state, we went to comedy night at the viper room. torn to shreds in the front row, of a gung ** americanised show. i came because the river still flows, with depp and the stageshows from the whiskey a go go, directly opposite the pavement. the boulevard was full of cars, and homeless superstars, that made it far, but not past the stars on the walk of fame, Holly would never be the same again. ******* ******* we walked past the cast of a bottomless flask, cast in the shadows of the sorrows of rodeo drive, staying alive is easy, follow, the yellow brick road and wish for a dollar. tomorrow is another day. i seen a man of my same age, he was a traveller, vocabular immaculate, hair cut ****** dindn’t shave much, one of the same touch. grubby hands and unfinished plans. his sign said, were ****** i teared up, he looked up and stood up and we hugged. i could see me in his weird look. just another rhyme in my page book. i gave him a bag of survival necessities, i hunted him down after 24 hours. i was worried to go back, and finish what i started. i consider the concept as an artist, but the truth is this, the humanist within, could never miss that appointment. he sat there in the same spot, and if i didn’t come, he could of lost faith in the promise of a circumstance. i took a certain stance, he said he was a traveller, a poet with grubby hands, i held him with open arms. i don’t worry about him, i worry about you, a ***** and the truth, trumps and mansion and no use. i’ve read between the lines, and wrote this motion on tightropes and suspended emotion. they want a showman, but when we show them the ocean, the don’t want to know the deepest minds inclined. absolutley, mutiny in the ranks, my heart sank when you decided to revamp, your opinion of me implicitly. minor to me, skeleton key to multiple routes. i never gave a **** about your opinions then, and I certainly don't give a **** now, nor have i ever, stared the gift horse in the mouth.
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67
I wear my heart on my sleeve Where it's easily broken I'd rather be made of steel Or just a girl sitting around tokin So many emotions And I'm bloated Just full of **** And a belief of something fake But I'll revamp my ways My precious heart to take I don't need it anymore anyways (Douglas Scheurn wrote this part) Keep it, Incase it deep within your soul. Put the key in, Make the latch whole. Don't let someone steal it quickly, They have to thoroughly plan the heist. Now this is tricky, But wait out to see the lines. Doesn't matter much anyways My heart ain't worth the fuss I held on a long time Even longer for the lucrative "us" My hearts shattered Not that it mattered Pieces are too small Not worth making whole No body would want This emptiness y'all call a soul There is no need for a lock And certainly not a key The last one inside Has proven me no longer worthy If the last one who had a piece Is reading this now Give urself a pat on the back And a raise of ur brow Congratulations is in order You finally completed ur mission My heart is finally free You, no longer in my vision Emptied my soul And cleared the fog **** being a ***** I'll be the alpha dog Chewing up smiles Gnawing on hearts Spitting back up tears And unimportant parts Then run away, still intact Leaving the rest to the hounds Never looking back Smile on my face and hell bound
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Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 11:02 AM UTC
Alpha Dog
begin this life in a wordy but wordly habit, daily, father-gifted, though different, in form and language selected, ‘tis the one and ‘tis the same tally, a counting combination of all that has been done, for both better & worse, blessing/curse, the key: revamp review reset this day upcoming and welcome all the major tasks, minor miracles, that one can effect,  select, elect! by choice, a freedom so great it tenderly rips joy thoroughly into and from my cells, and my body is enlightened, uplifted in this, now a preposition, a conjugation, a state of composition, for the tasks given, the granted, those that must be taken, those most difficult, when knowing their choice, entails pain, untempered, and requires establishing a two edged position of composure… this is a hard and an easy new proposition I create, hard for I write on a tiny phone screen, in letters so small. it keeps me humbled, a reminder of having lived a span well beyond belief, for one took\gave body a careless comfort, giving little of the differring kind of nutrition in order to live life, well and purposed hard too, for my body has wept, a steady stream of silent tears. unceasing as I scribe, making vision difficult, the insight salty but clear and the words contained within them, flood for easy laying-down for this AM workout of counting, lists up and down, so many items, of differring nature, even now noticing for the very fitting first time, the subtle hint within differring, for it possesses a doubling of the enormity, the division of what has been already accumulated and what yet, needs accomplishing, the tally needy for resolving looking past, for seeing with yet more tears fast-as-you-can-forward the tally never ends, paused only for a quick question/happy deletion of, and a resolute immediate, moving on: ***Where do I stand, what is my position?*** keep on keeping on, tallying has no finale, no sunning/summing up, for another day will yet follow, for you, and your own tallying must goes on, on and not even, nor even, odd, when mine, mine no long, and the and yets, no longer commence
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Dec 19, 2024
Dec 19, 2024 at 12:33 PM UTC
a moment of spirit (the tally)
begin this life in a wordy but wordly habit, daily, father-gifted, though different, in form and language selected, ‘tis the one and ‘tis the same tally, a counting combination of all that has been done, for both better & worse, blessing/curse, the key: revamp review reset this day upcoming and welcome all the major tasks, minor miracles, that one can effect,  select, elect! by choice, a freedom so great it tenderly rips joy thoroughly into and from my cells, and my body is enlightened, uplifted in this, now a preposition, a conjugation, a state of composition, for the tasks given, the granted, those that must be taken, those most difficult, when knowing their choice, entails pain, untempered, and requires establishing a two edged position of composure… this is a hard and an easy new proposition I create, hard for I write on a tiny phone screen, in letters so small. it keeps me humbled, a reminder of having lived a span well beyond belief, for one took\gave body a careless comfort, giving little of the differring kind of nutrition in order to live life, well and purposed hard too, for my body has wept, a steady stream of silent tears. unceasing as I scribe, making vision difficult, the insight salty but clear and the words contained within them, flood for easy laying-down for this AM workout of counting, lists up and down, so many items, of differring nature, even now noticing for the very fitting first time, the subtle hint within differring, for it possesses a doubling of the enormity, the division of what has been already accumulated and what yet, needs accomplishing, the tally needy for resolving looking past, for seeing with yet more tears fast-as-you-can-forward the tally never ends, paused only for a quick question/happy deletion of, and a resolute immediate, moving on: ***Where do I stand, what is my position?*** keep on keeping on, tallying has no finale, no sunning/summing up, for another day will yet follow, for you, and your own tallying must goes on, on and not even, nor even, odd, when mine, mine no long, and the and yets, no longer commence
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83
Lights trailing- time exposed before the infinitesimal eye. As the taxi stops before the almighty red, the city echoes with the hype of high life. As thousands of macrocosms collide in resounding style, her violet eyes breath euphoria into adrenaline filled veins. In such a colossal juncture of youth and maturity, evanescence and immortality, virtue and vice, this broken and disfigured world assumes transparency. The moment reigns supreme in this purple city.
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Jul 7, 2010
Jul 7, 2010 at 7:52 PM UTC
Revamp the Instant
Let me place an indent, Of my intent to the Supreme, And plead Him to bless, Latest version of life’s software. My hardware turned soft, Due to wear and tear, And software hardened, Long after ageing years, I long to log in an indent, For I belong to you for long, Oh my dear kind life maker, Take me with you along. My memory space is too short, To live long and prolong, Please upgrade my motherboard, From megabyte into gigabyte, With a backup chip to guard me, From bothering risk of data loss, Oh lord! It is time to revamp, My life’s biometric system. Empower me to recall, The memory of my past life. Let me learn from the lessons, Of my past to avoid future strife. And use my yester skills, For the rest best of life. Let there be no sinning and sinners, Wind up the office of hell as well. Develop and telecast bio-software, With multiple options to live or leave, Sign up, sign in and sign out, Cut, copy, paste and delete, Log in, log out and log off, And more such touch skin tabs to press. May you install ante virus software? To bind body and soul at will. For soul is the sole software of physics Of thy creation and recreation.
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 8:56 PM UTC
Physics of Philosophy
Can I have a rest, for I am very tired. of usual beings, come and go, made us weak and little blind. You're all over me, thus, can I rest? Everywhere I look, You have proven me the best. I am exhausted, Will you let me be? I cannot move forward, on the the things I see. Squeezed with the happenings, I want a revamp. release me from the past, wicked sinked in swamp. Sour flavoured outings, did took a toll on me. I want you to take charge, Please let me be. I want to relax, my tired soul. would you let me to rest, or in pain come let me howl. Can I have a rest? Please let me so. With you I found, a partner to call. Are you allowing me now? please let me fall, Down in questions, sheered in a roll. Are you allowing me now? I hope you really do. Can I rest? ..My eyes on you.
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May 8, 2011
May 8, 2011 at 11:39 PM UTC
Can I rest?
A vessel with some water, The proverbial impasse. ‘Tis often seen half empty, Yet it seems a half full glass. Who drank the last swallow from the half full glass? Is optimism on the brink? Will our pessimistic present pass? So we can fill the glass and drink! For all in optimistic camp Can we insure the world's survival? Can we, other gloomy souls revamp; Stage a miracle revival? Like a prophet or evangelist Laying hands upon the crowd A leper’s lips, once shunned, now kissed, A beggar not too proud To ask the rich to share some love Or a grain of understanding. Would manna, sent from Heav’n above Restore belief in those demanding Proof.  A sign or something else To kindle hope and quench the fear That our half full glass has shattered And the end is drawing near. And for those who suffer in the dark Is Armageddon on its way? Has the Devil gone and lit the spark That precedes our judgment day? There are cops committing ****** And crazies killing cops Are the pessimists so positive That the killing will not stop? What then, could be life’s purpose For those who have this view? It seems that all the pessimists Are a suicidal crew. Is there then a cure for pessimists? Or are they the smarter folk? Are the optimists so blind They cannot see the joke? For what, if not a joke Is a world without control Did God put all he had on ‘odd’ And then say, “Let’r roll!?” Every gambler has a system ‘Guaranteed to win’ God says, “Goodness conquers evil Compassion conquers sin.” But is His system failing, As the pessimists believe? Should we all fold, throw in our cards Rise from our chairs and leave? While the optimists are calling Saving wealth they cannot spend For you cannot take it with you When you finally reach the end. I have not the answer, Though I’d opt for Half Full Glass I want to believe in something That gives us half a chance. But speak out loud ye poets If you think the same or not. All entitled to a voice. Our voice is all we’ve really got. A vessel with some water, The proverbial impasse. ‘Tis often seen half empty, Yet it seems a half full glass. Phil Lindsey 4/20/15
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Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 8:05 AM UTC
A Glass of Water
A vessel with some water, The proverbial impasse. ‘Tis often seen half empty, Yet it seems a half full glass. Who drank the last swallow from the half full glass? Is optimism on the brink? Will our pessimistic present pass? So we can fill the glass and drink! For all in optimistic camp Can we insure the world's survival? Can we, other gloomy souls revamp; Stage a miracle revival? Like a prophet or evangelist Laying hands upon the crowd A leper’s lips, once shunned, now kissed, A beggar not too proud To ask the rich to share some love Or a grain of understanding. Would manna, sent from Heav’n above Restore belief in those demanding Proof.  A sign or something else To kindle hope and quench the fear That our half full glass has shattered And the end is drawing near. And for those who suffer in the dark Is Armageddon on its way? Has the Devil gone and lit the spark That precedes our judgment day? There are cops committing ****** And crazies killing cops Are the pessimists so positive That the killing will not stop? What then, could be life’s purpose For those who have this view? It seems that all the pessimists Are a suicidal crew. Is there then a cure for pessimists? Or are they the smarter folk? Are the optimists so blind They cannot see the joke? For what, if not a joke Is a world without control Did God put all he had on ‘odd’ And then say, “Let’r roll!?” Every gambler has a system ‘Guaranteed to win’ God says, “Goodness conquers evil Compassion conquers sin.” But is His system failing, As the pessimists believe? Should we all fold, throw in our cards Rise from our chairs and leave? While the optimists are calling Saving wealth they cannot spend For you cannot take it with you When you finally reach the end. I have not the answer, Though I’d opt for Half Full Glass I want to believe in something That gives us half a chance. But speak out loud ye poets If you think the same or not. All entitled to a voice. Our voice is all we’ve really got. A vessel with some water, The proverbial impasse. ‘Tis often seen half empty, Yet it seems a half full glass. Phil Lindsey 4/20/15
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69
In the spectral mausoleum Wherein the human's left me deserted; I still wilt writeth transcendent poesy Mine blood as the word's to be posted. An anointed omnipresent To luster her anticipation of mine proclivity; She awaiteth me, behind the benevolence As her optical's art painting's in Renoir relevance . I revamp mine apparition To maketh mineself to her more known; She seeith mine black suit, unbuttoned shirt She feeleth mine flesh, and strokes mine old bones. All mine bad misgivings, she erases like as if at school She's the teacher, I'm her student, though tis I breaketh rules; Yet I do payeth attention, to this queen whoever she is Yet thou must remember, this is all a dream, spurious wish! Though tis just an illusion, I still hath highest Hope's Because I'm not the other men, proudly others seeith that most; As tis I shalt continue on, writing amour for one not around Whoever she is, and who she might be, please release me from.. The ground................ ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry
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Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 8:42 PM UTC
Ubi est amantis Quidve release? ubi es regina? ( Where is that lover release? where art thou queen?) Latin tongue
*we attached a meaning to life,planted peace and uprooted the strife we had pleasures, we enjoyed our life we took no measures risked falling off the cliffs gladly faced them dangers but that was the point ,it wasn't living if we weren't believing we could successfully turn the pages, make memories walking on the edges we faced the challenge, we had to manage, trekked through the sun till it was orange You'd appreciate for we had the courage we was buried in beating the current, we were hurried to define our ambition, the mission was reaching the mirage it was illusive,we were incisive, brothers fell out we were inclusive we kept fighting and biting,made laws but we weren't abiding mistakes we went on citing,tough choices we weren't deciding the higher the ladder, the more life was harder expected to lead by example,we had to sample life, at times lost the tempo danced to beats affected the cardiacs, hit the streets mistaken for maniacs evading defeat propelled to take cover for we were rebels, running from criticisms coming at us harder than pebbles we weren't famous but they knew us,ambassadors for the new earth we were the weight,we were the scales, our actions were the bells the story that everyone tells,we guided their trains for we were the rails,hickory dickory dock we were the ship and yacht at every Dock, the movies to watch and the stories to talk, for we lit avenues from where they would walk so the shines went interstellar,the inspiration to every fella for we rode on luck and provided to many who lack we were a drug to every dealer, some thought we were Rockefeller took nothing for granted for we were hunted, life was a charm so many enchanted we couldn't forget we were wanted we stuck to the guns, saw it till the end, it was a fire to which we would fend we had an entire generation and a legacy to defend persistent to resistance,so much it defined our existence we fought monsters and didn't give up,so that our world would get a revamp we were peaceful warriors,we were notorious*
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Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 3:30 PM UTC
NOTORIOUS
*we attached a meaning to life,planted peace and uprooted the strife we had pleasures, we enjoyed our life we took no measures risked falling off the cliffs gladly faced them dangers but that was the point ,it wasn't living if we weren't believing we could successfully turn the pages, make memories walking on the edges we faced the challenge, we had to manage, trekked through the sun till it was orange You'd appreciate for we had the courage we was buried in beating the current, we were hurried to define our ambition, the mission was reaching the mirage it was illusive,we were incisive, brothers fell out we were inclusive we kept fighting and biting,made laws but we weren't abiding mistakes we went on citing,tough choices we weren't deciding the higher the ladder, the more life was harder expected to lead by example,we had to sample life, at times lost the tempo danced to beats affected the cardiacs, hit the streets mistaken for maniacs evading defeat propelled to take cover for we were rebels, running from criticisms coming at us harder than pebbles we weren't famous but they knew us,ambassadors for the new earth we were the weight,we were the scales, our actions were the bells the story that everyone tells,we guided their trains for we were the rails,hickory dickory dock we were the ship and yacht at every Dock, the movies to watch and the stories to talk, for we lit avenues from where they would walk so the shines went interstellar,the inspiration to every fella for we rode on luck and provided to many who lack we were a drug to every dealer, some thought we were Rockefeller took nothing for granted for we were hunted, life was a charm so many enchanted we couldn't forget we were wanted we stuck to the guns, saw it till the end, it was a fire to which we would fend we had an entire generation and a legacy to defend persistent to resistance,so much it defined our existence we fought monsters and didn't give up,so that our world would get a revamp we were peaceful warriors,we were notorious*
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34
kudos to the haters, Words are on fire. They bring extra strength, Through their demolition desire. Give thanks to the critics, free pointers to review, so you can progress, re-skin, revamp a new. Do not give up, cheer up my friend. Life is not a matter, of mix and blend. you are unique, you have your plans. Never meant to hurt, when good idea comes. Disregard gloomy thoughts, Throw them in the rain, well if it's sunny, We'll accept the pain but as you accept it, you know what to do, learn from the past, and never redo. Stand up brother, Raise up your spirit. Live on the present, Make things as you see it. Whatever comes your way, whatever they say and ask. as long as we are united, We'll accomplish any tasks.
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Nov 9, 2010
Nov 9, 2010 at 3:25 AM UTC
Stand up brother
Two young lovers lie facing the moon As they read lines of my muse passion In other to discern the secret of my heart Air of warm kisses kissed their thought For they never parted not like we're fated to part As petals of rose withered from my heart Yet I am sorry to say I love you For my mind is hungry and wait to devour you as storm choruses your name into my heart Maybe dead will be one to separate us at last As the lilies attract so my love for you shine jealousy flown away your love for my shrine No deception for I filled your dream with kisses As spinning ***** you reoccurred in my heart I decide to go for the tree of passion will bear no fruit In my heart I solely love you as a decorated thorns Running still as water towards a turbine Generating bewildered lights in our souls As the energy continues to revamp our love The springtide will make us fly as doves Written by Martin Ijir
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Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 9:31 AM UTC
Story of our love
**** i was just thinking about porridge... no... not Fletcher, Ronnie Barker... **** what was i thinking of? Quaker Oats? it's not even funny... what was it? ah... black Hollywood taking over... Denzel doing his Zen and D-end **** Black Panther... Black Panther?! ha ha... is that some sort of Pink Panther spoof?! the Prodigy did a song for a movie... one man army... oh... right... you've forgotten its existence... now we're getting all the activism revival revamp? Black Panther is like Pink Panther.... a ******* joke.... does anyone even begin to comprehend... Spawn?! Spawn is the reason why Batman became Lego... honest to god, scouts' honor... wait wait... so Spawn is bleak? you know, that Lethal Weapon II South Africa exchange... but but.. you're bleak! or whatever the best coordinate association is... with the mister-race... who the **** wants to be the Black Panther?! all the crumpets / chiseled retrograde crackers... guess it's good i'm not slang for milk0boy... ****** lactose intolerant? too bad... how about i **** off your ma ma? Black Panther is ******** who wants to be Black Panther? probably some educated counter to a Kanye West commentator... Spawn... all d-way... v-way... but you know... we figured: difference are so that we get a chance to matter... minstrel does the shuffle... Black Panther my *** compared to Spawn? looks like... the KKK embarked on an appeasement treaty.... compared to Spawn, Black Panther, it makes Dave Chappelle look like, ******* michael mcintyre... which is funny... funny... only when eating chips and being attacked by a flock of seagulls... oi... watch this... Black Panther propagandists... who've never seen a minute's worth of the film Spawn, which could make any white boy say... **** Batman, i wanna be Spawn. wankers. there's no culture war to be spoken of... given that the said victories and losses are so banal... the, "war" hasn't even started... and said people are claiming either victories or losses... we haven't even started!
0
Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 10:59 PM UTC
late wakers
**** i was just thinking about porridge... no... not Fletcher, Ronnie Barker... **** what was i thinking of? Quaker Oats? it's not even funny... what was it? ah... black Hollywood taking over... Denzel doing his Zen and D-end **** Black Panther... Black Panther?! ha ha... is that some sort of Pink Panther spoof?! the Prodigy did a song for a movie... one man army... oh... right... you've forgotten its existence... now we're getting all the activism revival revamp? Black Panther is like Pink Panther.... a ******* joke.... does anyone even begin to comprehend... Spawn?! Spawn is the reason why Batman became Lego... honest to god, scouts' honor... wait wait... so Spawn is bleak? you know, that Lethal Weapon II South Africa exchange... but but.. you're bleak! or whatever the best coordinate association is... with the mister-race... who the **** wants to be the Black Panther?! all the crumpets / chiseled retrograde crackers... guess it's good i'm not slang for milk0boy... ****** lactose intolerant? too bad... how about i **** off your ma ma? Black Panther is ******** who wants to be Black Panther? probably some educated counter to a Kanye West commentator... Spawn... all d-way... v-way... but you know... we figured: difference are so that we get a chance to matter... minstrel does the shuffle... Black Panther my *** compared to Spawn? looks like... the KKK embarked on an appeasement treaty.... compared to Spawn, Black Panther, it makes Dave Chappelle look like, ******* michael mcintyre... which is funny... funny... only when eating chips and being attacked by a flock of seagulls... oi... watch this... Black Panther propagandists... who've never seen a minute's worth of the film Spawn, which could make any white boy say... **** Batman, i wanna be Spawn. wankers. there's no culture war to be spoken of... given that the said victories and losses are so banal... the, "war" hasn't even started... and said people are claiming either victories or losses... we haven't even started!
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74
Grow, Good morning, get up, get going, get out, get it? Get giggity, giggly, Great, get in, get quite, real g's move in silence, and gesticulations get goons gone, Go ahead, go forth with great care, go far, go out, get lost, go back, Grasp green garments, Go on, Respire, Read rhetoric, read rhythm, read rhymes, Read people, Respond resplendently, require resolution, Realize, rain rains, read rain rain gauge, Risk rewards, run rapidly, run rampantly, run triumphantly, Rise up, rise on, ride horses, ride waves, ride on, Red letter days, Irked? Inhale, intake, insure, inhibit, Intuition informs insides, Imitators idolize, I irk, irritate, insist Immaculate Inspire innovation, incite celebration, Inner id ingests infestations, Ideal installed, Move, Make much of it, make mistakes, make mends, make merry, make cheer, make love, make peace, Mind, mind manners, mind time, mind love, mind peace, Move, move over, move up, move in, move out, move on, More so, more smiles, more laughs, more life, more understanding, more peace, more love, Marvelous magenta muse moves me, Exhale, Exhibit excellence, energize everyone, Eat east, eat in, eat out, eat everywhere, with everyone, Exhale, exit anger, exit stress, exit breath, Enters euphoria, enters energy, with ease Need, Need no one, need nothing, only neo Nazis, No, need necessities, need neurons, need Nutella, nourishment, Now know knowledge, know profound power found in numbers, now know nothing Restart Reduce, reuse, recycle, Reproduce, Re-energize, refuel, revamp, repeat,
0
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 4:17 PM UTC
Grimnerfication
Grow, Good morning, get up, get going, get out, get it? Get giggity, giggly, Great, get in, get quite, real g's move in silence, and gesticulations get goons gone, Go ahead, go forth with great care, go far, go out, get lost, go back, Grasp green garments, Go on, Respire, Read rhetoric, read rhythm, read rhymes, Read people, Respond resplendently, require resolution, Realize, rain rains, read rain rain gauge, Risk rewards, run rapidly, run rampantly, run triumphantly, Rise up, rise on, ride horses, ride waves, ride on, Red letter days, Irked? Inhale, intake, insure, inhibit, Intuition informs insides, Imitators idolize, I irk, irritate, insist Immaculate Inspire innovation, incite celebration, Inner id ingests infestations, Ideal installed, Move, Make much of it, make mistakes, make mends, make merry, make cheer, make love, make peace, Mind, mind manners, mind time, mind love, mind peace, Move, move over, move up, move in, move out, move on, More so, more smiles, more laughs, more life, more understanding, more peace, more love, Marvelous magenta muse moves me, Exhale, Exhibit excellence, energize everyone, Eat east, eat in, eat out, eat everywhere, with everyone, Exhale, exit anger, exit stress, exit breath, Enters euphoria, enters energy, with ease Need, Need no one, need nothing, only neo Nazis, No, need necessities, need neurons, need Nutella, nourishment, Now know knowledge, know profound power found in numbers, now know nothing Restart Reduce, reuse, recycle, Reproduce, Re-energize, refuel, revamp, repeat,
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41
Let me place an indent, Of my intent to the Supreme, And plead Him to bless, Latest version of life’s software. My hardware turned soft, Due to wear and tear, And software hardened, Long after ageing years, I long to log in an indent, For I belong to you for long, Oh my dear kind life maker, Take me with you along. My memory space is too short, To live long and prolong, Please upgrade my motherboard, From megabyte into gigabyte, With a backup chip to guard me, From bothering risk of data loss, Oh lord! It is time to revamp, My life’s biometric system. Empower me to recall, The memory of my past life. Let me learn from the lessons, Of my past to avoid future strife. And use my yester skills, For the rest best of life. Let there be no sinning and sinners, Wind up the office of hell as well. Develop and telecast bio-software, With multiple options to live or leave, Sign up, sign in and sign out, Cut, copy, paste and delete, Log in, log out and log off, And more such touch skin tabs to press. May you install ante virus software? To bind body and soul at will. For soul is the sole software of physics Of thy creation and recreation.
0
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
Physics of Philosophy
I stand with all those who fought for just cause I give my ink to solidify their spirit And energized their body and soul I support their long walk to freedom And hope they spread like dandelions Drinking bowful water to quench their thirst Which shall be hitchfree from slave guards Please I need water to drink just a drink I came from a community water is scarce It is a trading commodity sold with pence Dirt mud dances as we fetch Alum so expensive only few can perch We leech as fly just to get a drop Ragging with thuds of defiance soul Carry their cattle to drink the spring as a spoil ****** situation it turns and boil As blood spreads so we drink I need a water as a sink Please come to my community and make a drill so we wouldn't be sick In long run life it will save and stalk Give a simple drop so we can cook For years I feed on fruits that are poison Cut in diseases of fluke worms And guinea worms drag for a feed They chase for spaces as they soul rely I am a living dead my body reply Waiting for last drop perhaps it may revamp as it rain My foreclosure day might be dark Please a water might sing thousands of song For if I give my soul away I hope my message will reach many and touch their hearts to give us a drop as gong by Martin Ijir
0
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 8:31 AM UTC
No Water
*She dresses in paisley Wishes on daisies Falls asleep to the televisions glow Drinks Calamine tea The tea she believes Brings about memories only she knows Wears perfume on her finger tips So when she points it smells like this Lavender with a hint of ginger She has a yellow bird that talks A pink and purple frog She dresses in mink come winter Her shoe leather is patent The only way she will have them Her tribute to the 70's She herself is a secret Hoping that she can keep it As she floats across colorful seas*
0
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 12:49 PM UTC
She Floats Across Colorful Seas (revamp)
i hate snow but i love winter you always told me i was a walking contradiction but this time when you left the snow covers the ground and hides the footprints laid forgotten when you walked out of our front door without saying goodbye and now my hearts shattering into a million tiny snowflakes floating around the sky until it turns to a blizzard because the more I think of all the fun we had - the harder the snow falls swirling around my head like all the memories we created just like the snowman in our yard but eventually the sun came out and he melted his nose and button eyes falling to the ground as fast as I fell head over heels for you and now I remember why I love winter but hate the snow
0
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 8:43 AM UTC
hate the snow - revamp
yet another savage tragedy ravages, emotionally, the trap queens in bandages screaming to their bae’s about the vastness of calamities blunt tips glow showing smoke blown extensions flowing growing tired of liars on the youtube seeking gifs and snap-chat besties to wrestle with the cultural festivities being given proclivity to policy lunacy – smart phone glued claw hand and shrewdly planning to revamp the system with hello kitty ***** twisters and metrosexual waterfall trips… it’s truly a pip these auto-tuned post baby-boomers no relations to crooners thinking the sooners are only Oklahoma…. My youth tirade is partly a parade like a brass band on Burbon playing unafraid –
0
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 4:21 PM UTC
kids today....
**Revamp yourself first... Because ur young and free and you have dreams and desires to fulfill with utter gratification. Because you want to do something meaningful in this world to gleam ur identity , to make people know who you actually are , and to where you belong. Keep expanding ur horizon , decolonize your mind , and cross borders cause at the end we only regret the chances we didn't take. Stop Existing. Start Living. Carpe Diem :')**
0
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
=Carpe Diem=
You lied? Tender, mercy filled words schemed to revamp long lost confidences. Uttered to spawn epic trust. For you could NEVER do as others have! YOU LIED! The SWEARING of, "I could NEVER do"... is EXACTLY what you did. You lied? YOU LIED! Nuff Said! GOODBYE! © S.Loeding All Rights Reserved
0
Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
~ You Lied! ~
my mind works in endless circles churning and crashing to find brilliancy in things to perhaps be a pioneer even at this time, invent or revamp, prove my soul worthy and wishing for fame but I lie in here feeling worthless, with nothing to my name.
0
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 1:25 PM UTC
I keep trying