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Yenson Jun 2022
The poor girl said
I so sorry, but I'm afraid they may turn against me, please understand

The near brownies said
please forgive, they will start picking on us if we don't go along and do as ordered

The Preachers says
we have to be as them, we are cultists and already marginalized, if we didn't they'll isolate us more and it helps our recruitment

The weak and insecure said
this is a no brainer mate
for once we get the opportunity to feel relevant and play the fool without the usual disapprovals

The reluctant ones say
we feel oppressed and bad but they are coercing us daily and we just don't have a choice

So their moral compass compromised, their free-will imprisoned
their integrity abused and disrespected, their brains washed, their dignity rubbished, their minds poisoned and internally they are stressed, uncomfortable and feel enslaved. They have been dehumanized because their Narcissistic masters decides so...







Anyone who remembers watching the Wizard of Oz as a child will probably remember how horrifying the Wicked Witch of the West’s flying monkeys were. These monkeys were sent by the witch to do her ***** work, and the phrase has since become synonymous with people who end up doing the ***** work of a narcissist.

Flying monkeys get caught up in a narcissist’s plan — often to damage the life of another person. The narcissist may use their flying monkeys as piggy in the middle, carrying information from party to party. The flying monkey may use gaslighting tactics, open aggression, and guilt-tripping in order to make another person feel bad and weak, whilst shoring up the narcissist. And they’re often involved in pleading the case of the narcissist. Narcissists love having flying monkey, as it makes them feel important and means they can appear to be above the people below them who are caught up in the messy parts of the drama.

Some of the reasons people become flying monkeys include:

Self-preservation and protection.
Forming an alliance with the person perceived as like us or our organisation is one reason people adopt this role. Telling tales, spreading misinformation, and using gaslighting techniques against anyone who dares to question the narcissist might just mean you get to keep your job and don’t find yourself on the receiving end of narcissistic rage.

Rescuing the narcissistic "victim."
If you tend to fall into a rescuing role, you may feel compelled to jump to the defence of the narcissist who blames everyone and everything for whatever is going wrong in their life. Sticking up for the narcissist meets your inbuilt need to feel valued and needed because of your rescuer role.

A loss of sense of self.
Some flying monkeys are so browbeaten by the narcissist that they have far less capacity than otherwise might be expected when it comes to knowing right from wrong. They may have experienced years of emotional abuse at the hands of the narcissist and have lost a sense of self and independent decision-making along the way.

Loving the drama.
Some flying monkeys really thrive on the drama. When you’re involved with a narcissist, it’s almost inevitable that you’ll be involved in a few dramas along the way. What can beat the adrenaline of being caught up in lies, secrecy, and deception?

Being a narcissist.
Flying monkeys often have strong narcissistic traits themselves, including a desire for attention, a lack of empathy, and a desire to bully and manipulate others. They may be involved in a work, or other situation in which they know that their best opportunity to fulfill their narcissistic desires comes from allying themselves with a more powerful narcissists.

Being used by a narcissist to take care of some of the least desirable aspects of their business is always going to place you in a compromised, stressful environment and you should ensure that you have the appropriate support in place when you choose to change your role.
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
Every piece I write
Is a piece of me…
Of the turmoil, the calm, the violence… or the peace in me
I wonder, when I am dead… how shall they remember me?
For I have a lot of content in my poetic diary
A lot…
Of content…
In my…
Diary
I have written my whole life down one would notice, if one paid attention
Every frustration, every smile, every frown… written down more out of self expression
Than to seek attention
Pieces and records of what I was feeling or thinking at particular times and dates... I could care less if they made a wrong impression
For I have a lot of content in my poetic diary
A lot…
Of content…
In my…
Diary
I’m past trying to get published
Pouring one’s soul into a piece, just for it to get rubbished?
That’s not for me… I have too much respect for my poetry
It may not be in print… but when I read something I wrote a year ago I see it right there, my personality… it’s right there, and I know it’s me
For I have a lot of content in my poetic diary
A lot…
Of content…
In my …
Diary
If you read through all my work
You read through me… I could even risk it being said that whoever has done so
Knows who I was, who I am… and maybe even who I will be
That person will know… does know… and that person knew me
For I have a lot of content in my poetic diary
A lot…
Of content…
In my…
Diary
And one thing that both the old and the new me
Agree on
Is that…
We are and probably always will be…
Content…
With all the content…
In our diary.
Carlos A Espino Jul 2012
I start writing this lines for whomever is willing to read then...

Today I could not reconcile with my sleep, lately it seems we are sworn enemies, battling every single night until one of us is so exhausted it forfeits its own life and gives in to the overwhelming force of the other entity, tonight I was the one who lost the fight... I lay in agony writing these words to try and take the pain away, trying to keep my mind sane sorounded by this madness... It is a quiet night, and all you can hear are my fingers on the keyboard, and the breaths I take to exhale the smoke in my lungs.

The minutes pass and i cling myself to a thoughts that seems to be so distant, memories of happier days flow in and out of my mind, floating in nothingness, like a beautiful song with no one there to appreciate its beauty... No one...

Hours go by, and still no sign of any type of existence whatsoever, just me, the smoke and the sound of this keyboard... Just when my soul is about to go stray, at the point of no return, I hear footsteps from afar, FINALLY!, she has returned! I can feel different things happening inside me, if I could see myself from the outside, it would be like watching a young boy waiting for a present, THAT present that he has always wished for... Soon all the commotion inside me its betrayed by the reality of what lies in front of my eyes, that siluette in the darkness does not belong to my long wished gift, to that little music box that holds my heart, that figure coming out of the darkness correspond to a very old friend, a dear friend that I have missed, yet, never wished to be face to face again...

My dear friend finally walks out of the darkness and standing in front of me without saying one word, I can see a small hint of happiness in those beautiful eyes filled with sorrow, anger, wisdom... I can feel her getting close to me and smell that unique perfume that I was acustome to, it is almost like I could taste her skin at the moment that she kisses my forehead, I sit still, frozen, afraid, wanting to run far from her presence and yet I stayed there, intoxicated by her astonishing beauty... The only thing that I can remember thinking is the yells inside my head, screaming COWARD!

She sits quietly next to me on the stairs, I get my matches and light up another cancer stick, like my old buddy was used to called them, she looks at the box and without saying a word takes one to her mouth and lights it up... I could only see the bright red light, reflected in her eyes as she embraces a slow death with each breath she takes, I notice that she still has the smile on her face while she stares at me, right in my eyes... I feel at ease knowing that I am not with a stranger, knowing that my old friend was there for a reason, a reason that at the moment I couldent control but clearly understand. Everything seems to slow down, its even more quiet than before, u can hardly hear the typing on the keyboard anymore... All I can hear are the breaths she takes while she smokes her cigarette... The minutes go by and not one word has come out her tempting mouth, she is almost exactly as I remember her, quiet, yet on this visit she seems more mature, sensual, more natural, passive and also more beautiful, it is very difficult to describe but sitting there I almost felt relieve... Its like our minds are connected, i see, i feel things she is carrying within her, it burns my insides like a shot of tequila, slowly ohh soo slowly takes over my body... She giggles as she sees me light yet another cigarette, she knows that she has me, she knows that any moment i will succumb to the idea of having her in my presence... I keep writing, incredibly, I feel my fingers lighter, faster...

20 minutes go by like nothing and as I still sit there, she finally makes her move, she whispers something between breaths, I get hypnotized by her gorgeous eyes, her wonderful smile and those lips that I've been dying all night to taste... She leans forward and takes my hand, I stand like if I can't even control my own body, she closes the door behind us, the room grows even darker and just a little bit colder, as I turn around before I could make sense of what is happening, I'm shock in surprise to feel her lips on mine, I try to step away but she holds on tight like if she needs me, almost like we are two sides of the same coin... Soon I surrender to her touch, her soft warm lips, her tongue dancing with mine, I want to stop but she is not willing to let go, or you can say that I'm just not strong enough to let go of her... I can feel her hands on my back and her fingers gently taking off my shirt, caressing my chest, licking my neck... The room still seems cold even with everything that is going on, it is a strange feeling, but I am more focus on my dear friend that has not visited me in such a long time, she still hassent said a word as she slowly walks to my bedroom, I can see her stunning body perfectly because with each step she takes, her hands and fingers play with a different part of her clothing as she takes them off and seduces me to come close, so close that our breaths become a single one, I can't control myself anymore, after fighting my desires for so long I give in to her presence, to her will, to all her company brings to my life... I take hold of her fragile body, with my hands I explore every inch of her, kissing, biting, losing my mind with her taste, her smell... I can feel that this is not right, but as I look at her, everything else tells me to keep on... To move, one step at a time...

Slowly but surely our bodies begin to accept one another, to enjoy more and more the simple fact that it feels like they belong together... Together, at least at the moment... Laying on my bed, u can hear her nails playing with my back, my shoulders, my waist, I can hear another whisper between her breaths as we make things happen that you have only heard of. She is not so quiet anymore, she still keeps her impeccable beauty, but the beauty I see now, is more natural, more unique than any I have ever seen, I can see her face blushing with little tears of sweat dripping from her chest, her face... Her beauty still lies there, but now I want her more than before, if there would be a form of describing what my eyes could see, would be as simple as saying that she looks like reaching the heavens and hell at the same time. Quickly she turns my body around and I can see the full splendor of her naked siluette, a body that belongs to me, but a soul that will never be mine... I reach out to touch her face, its not so soft anymore, it feels more rubbished, more raw, more exiting than anything that I have ever seen or felt before... She takes my finger and carries it to her mouth, smiles at me and then makes my hand travel all the corners of her sensual body, every inch of untouched skin... I feel like the moment will never end, I feel eternity has nothing against me... But inside me, I can sense that I'm wrong, that I will be sorry for the present, wishing for the past, and hating my future... In the back of my mind, my will yells for me to realize that it will hurt more tomorrow, just as I almost break from her spell she bends over me and yet again I could only make out a whisper between breaths, a sign without reason... I can feel her body laying on top of mine, hearts beating together, deep breaths and long stares at each other... She still hassent said a word, her fingers play with my chest hair, and her eyes filled with sorrow, anger and wisdom shed a tear, just one tear, for the reasons we both know of, we know that she has to go, that I don't want her to stay next to me, because I'm not willing to take all the things she is accustom to bring with her... She feels used, worst than a *****, worst than a simple piece of meat... But she understands, she can no longer be visiting me, she can no longer make my soul her's... She will have to comfort herself in the fact that she will always be with me, but never taking control... At the moment she stands, looks at me with her dark beautiful eyes, picks up her clothes and kisses my forehead once more... I lay on my bed, watching her beauty, looking as she covers her gorgeous body by the clothes design to hide it... She stands by the door and hints me to stand next to her, I feel her arms wrap tightly around my waist and her head resting on my chest, at the moment I can finally understand my quiet dear friend, as her last whisper I can only make out the words "I will always be by your side"... She turns to the door and back the stairs she came from, and I just stand there, still, lighting another match to smoke another slow poison in my lungs... At the far distance I can see my dear old friend looking back at the space on my door, its like I almost know what she will say, what she will do... She disappears into the night, only to be seen or felt by those who wish for her company or desire her taste, I only stand there, with a smoke in hand whispering for my own amusement, "goodbye dear friend, goodbye old companion, goodbye my lover, goodbye loneliness"



The End
i know is NOT exactly a "poem" but i wanted to get you guys feedback. thank you for reading.
Commuter Poet Jun 2016
Age of division
Where nations
Turn on each other

Our people
Made up of mixtures
Are become divided

Diversity
Our great strength
Rubbished, discarded

Anger and arrogance
Soak shouts of 'independence'

What can we learn
From the work
Of the founders?

Have we not stood
On the shoulders
Of giants?

Years of toil
To unify peoples

Cracked
Overnight
Exited
Gone

The cheers
Of the victors
Ring
Like rolls
Of thunder

The roar of the followers
The howling of wolves
24th June 2016
nivek May 2014
....we lost our grip between childhood and freedom..
....realised too soon we were near entrapment.
...escaped into a world... they all rubbished...
and watched them all die with ...their take on freedom
Sîr Collins Nov 2018
This is to her in particular,
The lass that takes after keila,
I loved her like Diamond to Bailla,
I took her my heart's cellar,
Of course never she is a baller,
Only three lies taller.

Sure you are dang beautiful,
Elements exposed in full,
You need no cutex either to school,
A man  to be fool,
And certainly pick a marriage tool.


Haven't laid my grievances yet,
All were in the last paper I set,
The other day I almost bet,
With them that you were my sure bet,
Lent me your ears yet.

You neglected my brilliant efforts,
Rubbished all my plans even pivot,
The pillars of our love ***,
Said my eyes were too hot,
And my visits frequent in some sort,

You have never seen a dry spell,
How every corner of the zone smell,
When rain for long have not fell,
You even miss being rained on as well,
You too will hate the sun to hell.

You have never known my part ,
How others would take  even thy ****,
I know you don't need my heart,
Or you kidding in some kind of art,
Aimed at fooling me to wait like nuts.

It was supposed to be 50 -50 deal,
No lose on either side still,
I sure have offered too much with will,
Now look at me withdraw for real,
The repercussions I won't feel,

I cannot forget the useless brats,
You shielded as pals of earth,
So visionless and despondent rats,
That awaits fate alerts,
They will soon lead you to their mediocre parts.
5660 you know yourself..
#sikupendi by rayvanny supplements this.
The heart's quite a peculiar business huh?
Flushing faces red at the closest convenience,
Beating like mad in that bony enclosure,
So sure that it'll cure yesterday's fissure?

When I say the heart's craft is unusual
Remember the times you rubbished romance?
Look at you now, all smitten and smug,
Forgotten that you once ran out of luck.

That pumping ticker is a cause for conundrum,
Never once thought it's calamitous cavity filled
Used to look at the gaps between my fingers,
Now it's where your slender digits linger.

It's mad how a lump of flesh acts so bizarre,
Where the red doors were once mauled mush,
Stands someone so special, she's salient,
The only medication needed for my ailment.
I wake to wingtips spreading out from fingers wrapped around a gun, the Sun decides to rise and risk my wrath,

Monday blasts away and I'm shot down here to London, not like my home town but close enough with traffic comes and sleeping dogs that try to wake the sleeping policemen,

Kentucky, pizza, ham and cheese, save me from the double decker, a diet coke will do me please.

******* everywhere and rubbished everywhere I go
my second home's a ******* bin, throw your trash out, move on in,
a tin of ten percent will set me straight, never too early but it might be too late
so I'll take a can or two and what's a man to do to get served around here?

and the wingtips float above the ground in the silence of that greater sound which dances through my dreaming night
it's Monday and I'll be alright
I only need some coffee.
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                 I’m Not Going to Press Charges

                                   Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 40

I gave her my love freely; she did not steal
It only feels that way, for she is gone
She could not steal that which she was given
And she could not possibly leave it with me

The lock is broken, my poor room is rubbished
The neighbors saw nothing, my dog didn’t bark
The unseeing eyes of any cameras are dark
Love has no receipts, no inventory, no insurance

And so, officers of love, there is no report
Except that I lost my case in a higher court
Meme-ing from Shakespeare Sonnet 40

— The End —