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"sanger" poems
A hymn to paired planethood: Venus hits Pluto as death, in cold orbit, collides with biology smashing to fragments: demonic astrology (more a black hole than a love-star, it’s true though). Cynical cure for Eve’s womanly grievance Concupiscent consequence: lust’s bitter fruit – ah the thought… changing Sin into mere inconvenience. Margaret sang her seductive refrain about weeding the garden and progress and light. Her sisters should view her with scornful disdain but instead have adopted her murderous rite. With sang-froid she promoted her racist eugenics (as if she had never herself been a fetus), condemning her heirs to postmodern polemics while nurturing ardent desires to defeat us. Suppressing the lives that she flushed down the drain she would liberate Death – and resistance was vain. As a midwife to modern life (though on the “anti” side) Old Matron Margie racked up quite a legacy singing the praises of sanctioned infanticide calling the shots for the coming sick century. Planning, quite calmly, to “cleanse” certain races her zeal was empowered by murderous graces. She labored to bring us such pearls of subduction: “dilation and curettage”, “women’s autonomy” “viable fetus”, “procedure”, a “suction” Hippocrates retches to hear the taxonomy; words that turn Life into mere reproduction. She enters the realms of the ****** and the motherless roundly condemned by her feminine otherness. Man’s first protection: the God-given womb which no infant should have to regard as their tomb. Dismembered dark cherubs, assembling, greet her as demons (in scrubs) holding baby-parts meet her. Long may she burn with the medical cynics this mother of Moloch, this founder of clinics. Convenience is king when abortion’s the Queen and the profits swell big with each nubile teen… yet the fruit of such carnage remains to be seen. I send her this song as a funeral wreath and a card inked in blood. You may read what is there: “To the Matrix Supreme of our culture of death from the souls of the infants you slew on the earth. May your torment increase with the children you bear.”
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Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
Margaret Sanger’s Entry Into Hell
A hymn to paired planethood: Venus hits Pluto as death, in cold orbit, collides with biology smashing to fragments: demonic astrology (more a black hole than a love-star, it’s true though). Cynical cure for Eve’s womanly grievance Concupiscent consequence: lust’s bitter fruit – ah the thought… changing Sin into mere inconvenience. Margaret sang her seductive refrain about weeding the garden and progress and light. Her sisters should view her with scornful disdain but instead have adopted her murderous rite. With sang-froid she promoted her racist eugenics (as if she had never herself been a fetus), condemning her heirs to postmodern polemics while nurturing ardent desires to defeat us. Suppressing the lives that she flushed down the drain she would liberate Death – and resistance was vain. As a midwife to modern life (though on the “anti” side) Old Matron Margie racked up quite a legacy singing the praises of sanctioned infanticide calling the shots for the coming sick century. Planning, quite calmly, to “cleanse” certain races her zeal was empowered by murderous graces. She labored to bring us such pearls of subduction: “dilation and curettage”, “women’s autonomy” “viable fetus”, “procedure”, a “suction” Hippocrates retches to hear the taxonomy; words that turn Life into mere reproduction. She enters the realms of the ****** and the motherless roundly condemned by her feminine otherness. Man’s first protection: the God-given womb which no infant should have to regard as their tomb. Dismembered dark cherubs, assembling, greet her as demons (in scrubs) holding baby-parts meet her. Long may she burn with the medical cynics this mother of Moloch, this founder of clinics. Convenience is king when abortion’s the Queen and the profits swell big with each nubile teen… yet the fruit of such carnage remains to be seen. I send her this song as a funeral wreath and a card inked in blood. You may read what is there: “To the Matrix Supreme of our culture of death from the souls of the infants you slew on the earth. May your torment increase with the children you bear.”
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44
An Open Letter to Really Important People                      The Old Dime Box, Texas Statement            A Manifesto Made Manifest in Manifesting Manifestingness We post this serious looking document Bloated with long vocabulary words Sodden with weak dependent clauses Marshaled in numbered ranks, down, down they go To the GossipNet all serious like And everyone has to pay attention to us Because it’s AN OPEN LETTER, y’know - You may sign it if you’ve got letters behind your name Signatories: Apostle-Disciple Magic Dawn, DD., Non-Binary, Author of Green Polar Bears I Am, Co-Equal-Director of the Anti-Oppressionist Theatre Against the Occupation, Agent of the Revolution, Auteur, Guest on The Wheel of Fortune and Parent of Two AMAZING children of indeterminate Gender with Their AWESOME and AMAZING Life-Partner Sven-Marie. Massive Ferguson, M.Ed., Poet, Rector of Admissions, The University of Where the Old Circuit City Use to Be Poncy Tworbst, M.A., PUBLISHED Author, Seeker, Inspirational Singer-Songwriter, PUBLISHED Heather-Mistee La’ Thwitte-Tworbst, Ph.D., Director of Library Resources at Saint Margaret ****** Homeschool Resource Authority Collective, Inc., Certified Ordained Consecrated Priest in The Worldwide Church of Me-ness and Pastor of the World-Famous Weddings ‘R’ Us Chapel of Rainbow Dreams in Magdalena, New Mexico Lawrence Hall, HSG, Thinker of Thinky-Ness and, Like, Stuff, Endowed Chair he found at Goodwill, His Mark: X (Sean Ian Johann Johnson, MBA, J.D., Chief Photocopier Operator at Donald Trump University and Fashion Editor at Gun, God, and Guts Magazine, was not able to sign today; he is sharing a cell with other White House staff and patiently awaiting The Day of Greatness.)
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Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC
An Open Letter to Really Important People / The Old Dime Box, Texas Statement
An Open Letter to Really Important People                      The Old Dime Box, Texas Statement            A Manifesto Made Manifest in Manifesting Manifestingness We post this serious looking document Bloated with long vocabulary words Sodden with weak dependent clauses Marshaled in numbered ranks, down, down they go To the GossipNet all serious like And everyone has to pay attention to us Because it’s AN OPEN LETTER, y’know - You may sign it if you’ve got letters behind your name Signatories: Apostle-Disciple Magic Dawn, DD., Non-Binary, Author of Green Polar Bears I Am, Co-Equal-Director of the Anti-Oppressionist Theatre Against the Occupation, Agent of the Revolution, Auteur, Guest on The Wheel of Fortune and Parent of Two AMAZING children of indeterminate Gender with Their AWESOME and AMAZING Life-Partner Sven-Marie. Massive Ferguson, M.Ed., Poet, Rector of Admissions, The University of Where the Old Circuit City Use to Be Poncy Tworbst, M.A., PUBLISHED Author, Seeker, Inspirational Singer-Songwriter, PUBLISHED Heather-Mistee La’ Thwitte-Tworbst, Ph.D., Director of Library Resources at Saint Margaret ****** Homeschool Resource Authority Collective, Inc., Certified Ordained Consecrated Priest in The Worldwide Church of Me-ness and Pastor of the World-Famous Weddings ‘R’ Us Chapel of Rainbow Dreams in Magdalena, New Mexico Lawrence Hall, HSG, Thinker of Thinky-Ness and, Like, Stuff, Endowed Chair he found at Goodwill, His Mark: X (Sean Ian Johann Johnson, MBA, J.D., Chief Photocopier Operator at Donald Trump University and Fashion Editor at Gun, God, and Guts Magazine, was not able to sign today; he is sharing a cell with other White House staff and patiently awaiting The Day of Greatness.)
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18
fem in isms, i imagine Sapphic eyes: bad *** advert coruscates elite fairness sensing slavish blind in gestate calm affirm in genders More numerous of Windows-- Superior--for Doors-- O harsh judgement foiled, as a foil, as unknown truth foil-doubles in the brow, abject symmetry to systemize a fertile lack of sterile barrenness, i am a mediatrix rend, nirwaan, hijra wonderment aside from transemotion's ground swells demeaning to be understood. i celebrate and face the same to be what paperwork tests being normal being, freely chosen atom each belonging moves an asterisk of paths of mutate art of nature social darwin maze. i imagine Sapphic eyes, ginko soft they pile up all cobble memories themselves concretely cloistered fame spray of salty waves, macho screams symbol for dismissal ease for tearing at an inner unsaid war with lists offense of proper taste to what posterity intends an undulation womblike seeming nourish safety sounds. i imagine Sapphic eyes past debauched meanderings where hyster-clarity rejoins its titular and reliable escapisms curl the lips of maleness found here and there  smile  sneer love i imagine Sapphic eyes linguistic pirouettes congest that wisdom nonetheless the moment passed  on to a feigning truth in pretty rhyme ornamenting time with fine  meter  fine vernacular chimes peter in to juggle perspectival paradox, redichotomize the twilight idols, resolve the conflict like a dawn Aurora, i imagine Sapphic eyes running plastic with Alaskan wolves, toga floats to snow to let us see the purest fairness form a ****** circle, Hypatia ascends from tenebrous grave, Impregnable of Eye is pregnant now with Wollstonecraft revered in liberation's fount families held exemplar gaze of Taylor, ****** Cady, Anthony resanctified to vote entitlement's empathic origins, waxen mold of nascent categories, narrow hands spread wide to panoply anew the manifest evolve in true unknowns
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Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 11:56 PM UTC
i imagine Sapphic eyes
fem in isms, i imagine Sapphic eyes: bad *** advert coruscates elite fairness sensing slavish blind in gestate calm affirm in genders More numerous of Windows-- Superior--for Doors-- O harsh judgement foiled, as a foil, as unknown truth foil-doubles in the brow, abject symmetry to systemize a fertile lack of sterile barrenness, i am a mediatrix rend, nirwaan, hijra wonderment aside from transemotion's ground swells demeaning to be understood. i celebrate and face the same to be what paperwork tests being normal being, freely chosen atom each belonging moves an asterisk of paths of mutate art of nature social darwin maze. i imagine Sapphic eyes, ginko soft they pile up all cobble memories themselves concretely cloistered fame spray of salty waves, macho screams symbol for dismissal ease for tearing at an inner unsaid war with lists offense of proper taste to what posterity intends an undulation womblike seeming nourish safety sounds. i imagine Sapphic eyes past debauched meanderings where hyster-clarity rejoins its titular and reliable escapisms curl the lips of maleness found here and there  smile  sneer love i imagine Sapphic eyes linguistic pirouettes congest that wisdom nonetheless the moment passed  on to a feigning truth in pretty rhyme ornamenting time with fine  meter  fine vernacular chimes peter in to juggle perspectival paradox, redichotomize the twilight idols, resolve the conflict like a dawn Aurora, i imagine Sapphic eyes running plastic with Alaskan wolves, toga floats to snow to let us see the purest fairness form a ****** circle, Hypatia ascends from tenebrous grave, Impregnable of Eye is pregnant now with Wollstonecraft revered in liberation's fount families held exemplar gaze of Taylor, ****** Cady, Anthony resanctified to vote entitlement's empathic origins, waxen mold of nascent categories, narrow hands spread wide to panoply anew the manifest evolve in true unknowns
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69
If only God wouldn't of called you home We'd hear your truck from a mile away Red Bulls in hand Ready for a cookout But we haven't seen you in 3 years No more coming to the ranch No more ****** But it's okay we left all the memories there Along with my dead Grandpa Who I never knew anything about until after he was 6 feet underground Mom talks about you a lot but I never knew you Did you drink to bury all the memories of Vietnam? Did you smoke to bury the ones that have died? I will no longer see my uncle But it's okay I don't drink Red Bull anymore Momma and I sat on that couch Looking out that window Knowing your tires wouldn't make their mark anymore I think about you all the time You were like a father to me But it's too late for that now The last memory of us was simple for the little girl that was me We walked into Walmart Hand in Hand I felt like the luckiest niece alive You bought me a toy robot And I loved it because it came from you It may not mean much to others, but they didn't know you You were the sweetest man I knew You weren't even a father yet But I could tell you, you would've been a **** good one Bye grandpa I will never know If Only Heaven Wasn't So Far Away I'd like to get to know you Rather than the pieces I have pieced of you Told from many people that knew you Bye uncle I loved If Only Heaven Wasn't So Far Away Then I could stop missing you.
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Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 10:04 AM UTC
If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away
Eleanor P. Carney sat with her legs folded, Casually reading a catalogue As she waited. Her mind drifted Effortlessly away from Joe until: "Come this way"  said a voice dimmed, In light of the current situation. The click of Ellie's t-strap heels Turned the heads of many Beauty parlor goers, as she Was lead to a back door. A *** of boiling water hosted Sharp things for slaughter. "Now, I have to ask, On account of virtue, Do you really want to do this?" The beauty practitioner who Practiced more than beauty, stood in The corner, tying an apron around her thin waist. Eleanor P. Carney shook  her head, And sat down on the Cold counter knowing that She would not regret this. Ruth L. ****** struggled everyday To find new ways to disgust herself, But the lack Ms.Carney's Shame and guilt would Do just fine for today.
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Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 5:57 PM UTC
The Adventures of Eleanor P. Carney
Ruth T. ****** put her cigarette between Her chapped lips and sighed As she started the dishes. She was feminine in the same way that Clint Eastwood is; She wasn't. "Mama?" "Oh god!" Ruth squealed, Allowing the cigarette to fall From her mouth into the sink where It went out with a sizzle. "I don't mean to scare you none," "What?" "Where's Papa? He said he'd be Home tonight to help me fix my wagon For Bugsy." "Well he isn't." Ruth resumed The dishes in the same way that one would pick up a book. "But where is he?" "I don't know ****** But she most Certianly did know. "Did you string the Laundry on the line like I told you to?" "No." Rosie J. ****** fell asleep that night, Thinking that she had deserved Exactly what her Mama had Done to her left eye.
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Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 9:28 AM UTC
The Adventures of Ruth T. ******
little man, you have had such a big day. all those questions you ask, all that playing you do you did. a lot of growing and showing, nana how big your getting. kindy today, cheese ****** for lunch and baby cannonballs (black grapes). after that, we visited friends, walked to the rockpools snacked on apples and milk lots of hugging and laughing tickling and giggling. to smile so hard, must take lots of effort. no! then to eating, that big, yummy dinner of macaroni and cheese, must of worn you out. even after that, baby, bannana split you're not tired? oh!  it is just your eyes that are getting sleepy now to leapad learning and choosing story books lots of things, ticked off your list now it's bathtime, my friend, splashing and bubbles, shampoo and rinse. then some time with humf  and hoot. cuddles with dadda, kiss for nana, story and song, then, my big boy, bed is where you belong. all night long. mwah from mumma.
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May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 5:00 AM UTC
been a big day
Margaret ****** founder of  Planned Parenthood and aligned with the KKK (you know who they are) premeditated genocide for blacks ...... She is still hard at work and succeeding !!!!!! Where are the abortion mills????? In the neighborhoods they saturate the neighborhoods. Whose neighborhoods? Our black sisters' neighborhoods. Won't someone tell them, please? Please. Which president has planned parenthood's hand up his back? You don't have to look far and they're best friends!! Do you think he's for you? Really???????? Who's community has he been "organizing" ??? Sounds more like a holocaust to me. ..... ... .. . Cj 2016
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Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 3:01 PM UTC
Have you met Margaret? (edited ***note below)
Margaret ****** founder of  Planned Parenthood and aligned with the KKK (you know who they are) premeditated genocide for blacks ...... She is still hard at work and succeeding !!!!!! Where are the abortion mills????? In the neighborhoods they saturate the neighborhoods. Whose neighborhoods? Our black sisters' neighborhoods. Won't someone tell them, please? Please. Which president has planned parenthood's hand up his back? You don't have to look far and they're best friends!! Do you think he's for you? Really???????? Who's community has he been "organizing" ??? Sounds more like a holocaust to me. ..... ... .. . Cj 2016
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Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 10:58 PM UTC
Have you met Margaret? (edited ***note below)
Waterworks are failing Nile faucet tears ***** powder salt Plague blood wine Fermented analgesic sea Swallow Ebers papyrus Swallow Sanger's scroll Raze the periscope, this is no crusade Born blind under duress They sink mid-thigh in pools of acronym Copper pennies at their toes Can't wish for things they haven't been taught to believe Steal them instead They'll get a parade for far less But then again the winds might turn The sea might divide master and slave And there they shall be peeing their pants "In caelum fero--we make our mark" You picked a bad day to fight, Egyptian
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Mar 17, 2020
Mar 17, 2020 at 1:39 PM UTC
Submerged