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"savin" poems
No one else, but a poet...can bring colors to scenes...with verses, in crass or subtle tones......gather words together in lines, uncertain in their ebbing and flowing... the results create surprise in many hues that could make one cry, grimace......frown......or smile readers are led to far, or near destinations...to the cool, sweet air and peaceful atmosphere of paradise, or, to unlit corners...uncharted waters, or deep into an abyss...or, a black hole, an unknown corner, where moribund souls are biding their time, maybe, they could now define by themselves, purgatory and hell, understand those sunken souls who have lost all...except their arms, and begging eyes... then, through appropriate words, a poet paints a laborious path, or a stairway...so an enlightened reader may climb back to safe, calm waters... a poet makes the mind see a human heart, beating in many rhythms...throbbing, .......aflame with longing and desire, bursting from ecstatic, sublime moments, then, later on, shift to grayish thoughts that cut deep....tormenting...crashing, ............gnashing the heart... a poet paints a soul walking on cloud nine, later, to dip feet in celebrative pools. sometimes, a poet would rather not, yet, an inner force prevails, thereby paints a drooping soul...dying, in total surrender, ready to fall..............but, again, with a barrel of lively-colored words, a poet takes this despondent soul to berth, with soothing verses, bring it to a rebirth... every human being is worth an effort ..............even those that have fallen .........................are worth savin' ..... a poet's palette is uniquely enriched with colorful experiences, a poet paints life in its truest colors, ..........could be dark...or bright .....nothing more......nothing less... Sally © Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan January 29, 2017
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Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 6:13 AM UTC
Painter
No one else, but a poet...can bring colors to scenes...with verses, in crass or subtle tones......gather words together in lines, uncertain in their ebbing and flowing... the results create surprise in many hues that could make one cry, grimace......frown......or smile readers are led to far, or near destinations...to the cool, sweet air and peaceful atmosphere of paradise, or, to unlit corners...uncharted waters, or deep into an abyss...or, a black hole, an unknown corner, where moribund souls are biding their time, maybe, they could now define by themselves, purgatory and hell, understand those sunken souls who have lost all...except their arms, and begging eyes... then, through appropriate words, a poet paints a laborious path, or a stairway...so an enlightened reader may climb back to safe, calm waters... a poet makes the mind see a human heart, beating in many rhythms...throbbing, .......aflame with longing and desire, bursting from ecstatic, sublime moments, then, later on, shift to grayish thoughts that cut deep....tormenting...crashing, ............gnashing the heart... a poet paints a soul walking on cloud nine, later, to dip feet in celebrative pools. sometimes, a poet would rather not, yet, an inner force prevails, thereby paints a drooping soul...dying, in total surrender, ready to fall..............but, again, with a barrel of lively-colored words, a poet takes this despondent soul to berth, with soothing verses, bring it to a rebirth... every human being is worth an effort ..............even those that have fallen .........................are worth savin' ..... a poet's palette is uniquely enriched with colorful experiences, a poet paints life in its truest colors, ..........could be dark...or bright .....nothing more......nothing less... Sally © Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan January 29, 2017
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48
if you stop following the rules they say you have disorder even if it's just a little bit and they can't pinpoint who you are to them borderline personality disorder everything's either evil, or good people are placed in categories to the extreme then it calms down it's called hyper mood swing bi polar tri polar quadruple by pass aint savin me **** the rules manic impressive your diagnosis is depressive can't handle a little love a little chat a little quiet some existence you can't see or feel hyperbole turned real is a psychopath's mind errrr i'm like a dog on a leash waitin to bite the first ************ i see if he acts up
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Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
Crazy
" I love your positive outlook on life. It's like you're never depressed. Or at least I wouldn't think so," you tell me. Maybe that's why DeCaprio never won his Oscar; they're  savin' 'em all for me.
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Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC
Sorry Leo
There's a creek I used to see When I was young I'd go there to think It calmed my mind See the girls were all yelling And it made it all cloudy And the boys were all calling And it made it all rowdy My mind was a castle for them to play in and stay in. I wasn't tired yet but cried from all the savin There's a Brook I used to go to When I was older I'd go there to kiss It gave me more time See the boys were all touching And it made me afraid And this one boy he cared And we held hands and stayed My heart was a labyrinth for them to search in. I wasn't wild yet but tired from all the ridin. There's a river I used to go to When I got a little older I'd go there to lie It treated me kind See the men were all looking And it made me so scared And the one boy he left And I had only scars left My body was a object for them to play with. I wasn't dying yet but wild from all the givin There's a lake I still go to Now that I'm older I go there to sink It lets me pass the time See the people all are passing And it makes me look down And I've been alone so long And I'm tired of changing My soul is a tomb for them to lay in I'm not dead yet but dying from all the cravin But in the winter it gets colder The lake freezes up No one sees me as I walk holding my cup I breathe it in and someone whispers to me deeply "Honey we're all flyin through life, so stay an evening"
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Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
Water
Welcome to poetfreak manor everyone's welcomed here as long as you never speak about your anger or fear please keep down the noise we like it nice and quiet please do not speak too loud you just might cause a riot we like to talk about flowers or talk about the lord we don't care if you're different we don't care if you're bored ==================================================== Welcome to our poet's humble haven you may hang your hat on the door but first, is your soul worth savin? first, what exactly are you here for? we are intolerant to other's belief we bow to only one holy grace likewise thinkers are such a relief anything else is way off base please join us in our holy crusade and do not show an individual voice your opinion is far out-weighed this is our site, this is our choice This is a series i am doing about people at a tiny site, that sit there and condemn others all day long. Since i am an activist, i am trying to change it. I am not talking about all religious people, just the bad ones as i see them. After all, couldn't a non-christian see them more clearly than they see themselves?
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Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 2:52 PM UTC
Poetfreak Manor 2, and 3
I'm a docder, pretty wizard, how d'ya like that? I prescribe drugs, you just wear a pointy hat! I ain't no Dr. Phil BS or Dr. Dre crap, While you're busy casting spells, I'm savin' some poor old chap Against me, you wouldn't stand a chance I'm smarterer than you, and you just have a fancy stance I'm a real life livin' docder And you need me as a proctor Just to drink some vodkar And by now I bet you're wonderin' what ya just got in yer Ya can't even rhyme So why should I waste a single bit of my time Fightin' with ma docder powers which are all so sublime And here's a little gift Before I shift Back ta destroyin' all ya lyin' Without even tryin' It's a free little lesson Better count it as a blessin' Crap, wizard, that, warcraft and path Don't rhyme, just do the math And also by the way, you misspelled "WRATH!!!!!" I can wear whatever I want, from my boots up to my hat So, my little wizard, what d'ya think of that? I can use anything, from a .50 cal to a bat You just get a stick, and a stupid purple hat I can eat 416 billion grams of fat And cuz I'm a docder, I'd burn it off in nothin' flat By just using a little brainpower to focus All of my smartererness, against your hocus pocus   You could never mess with me Or either docder buddy, Jedingaling and Murly You'd leave so freakin early If we started a beef So just can it, and save yourself the grief Against Walsh, you would flee And as of now, he hasn't even got his docder PhD! Unlike me! Yeah, try every fancy trick And poke me with a stick A docder can take any pain, From a puny little stick to a saw with a chain! And then the docder'd turn around and use an attack And your whole puny world would fade into black You are done I have just won CUZ I'M A DOCDER, SON!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 7:22 AM UTC
I'M A DOCDER!!!!!!!! (The Rap Retaliation Of I'M A WIZARD)
I'm a docder, pretty wizard, how d'ya like that? I prescribe drugs, you just wear a pointy hat! I ain't no Dr. Phil BS or Dr. Dre crap, While you're busy casting spells, I'm savin' some poor old chap Against me, you wouldn't stand a chance I'm smarterer than you, and you just have a fancy stance I'm a real life livin' docder And you need me as a proctor Just to drink some vodkar And by now I bet you're wonderin' what ya just got in yer Ya can't even rhyme So why should I waste a single bit of my time Fightin' with ma docder powers which are all so sublime And here's a little gift Before I shift Back ta destroyin' all ya lyin' Without even tryin' It's a free little lesson Better count it as a blessin' Crap, wizard, that, warcraft and path Don't rhyme, just do the math And also by the way, you misspelled "WRATH!!!!!" I can wear whatever I want, from my boots up to my hat So, my little wizard, what d'ya think of that? I can use anything, from a .50 cal to a bat You just get a stick, and a stupid purple hat I can eat 416 billion grams of fat And cuz I'm a docder, I'd burn it off in nothin' flat By just using a little brainpower to focus All of my smartererness, against your hocus pocus   You could never mess with me Or either docder buddy, Jedingaling and Murly You'd leave so freakin early If we started a beef So just can it, and save yourself the grief Against Walsh, you would flee And as of now, he hasn't even got his docder PhD! Unlike me! Yeah, try every fancy trick And poke me with a stick A docder can take any pain, From a puny little stick to a saw with a chain! And then the docder'd turn around and use an attack And your whole puny world would fade into black You are done I have just won CUZ I'M A DOCDER, SON!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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48
They came to party until the world ends... Play the record again DJ Play that track again.. I watch the stars and clouds and ask when is the end? Do I go and dance with my friends? Do I go and watch the world end? And they say.. Earth is caving in, run away from them. There world is plastic They think it's fantastic Go and talk to him..the man that guides the wind. Go and ask him, He is here to save them. Go and ask you know need Savin Go and ask you know need Savin Go ask him the world they know is plastic. It will burn by there own sinful habits Go and ask him.. Go and ask him.. The world you know is plastic It's a habit the world you know is! Plastic! Plastic! Plastic.. Hurry ask him I came to dance a new song and hyme, Tell me how it ends. my world is plastic I was a fanatic Watch the clouds and stars they took me very far. He said.. Dust the magic off your feet, And the plastic off your hands My heart I give you so you can be real person again. My songs are platnuim now go and sing to them and who ever here you they hears me.
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Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 1:08 AM UTC
Plastic world
yo need yo-self some coverage what if you get in a ax-e-dent I got a little something for you...... I’m pimpin pauly a financial planner insurance guru no ones badder he’s ****** with your lame rates offerin you better bank states better call for quote dog don’t forget to say thanks I’m pimpin pauly – I’m pauly pimpin sendin him diff-rent clients on the real tip lookin to save for a dope trip maybe you got your throat ripped he works with HMO’s, ***** savin dollas makin ya holla give him a calla no mo shoppin middle of the malla wont fall-a be a balla I’m pimpin Pauly –
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Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
Pimpin' Pauly
Come gather ’round people Wherever you roam And admit that the waters Around you have grown And accept it that soon You’ll be drenched to the bone If your time to you is worth savin’ Then you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone For the times they are a-changin’ Come writers and critics Who prophesize with your pen And keep your eyes wide The chance won’t come again And don’t speak too soon For the wheel’s still in spin And there’s no tellin’ who that it’s namin’ For the loser now will be later to win For the times they are a-changin’ Come senators, congressmen Please heed the call Don’t stand in the doorway Don’t block up the hall For he that gets hurt Will be he who has stalled There’s a battle outside and it is ragin’ It’ll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls For the times they are a-changin’ Come mothers and fathers Throughout the land And don’t criticize What you can’t understand Your sons and your daughters Are beyond your command Your old road is rapidly agin’ Please get out of the new one if you can’t lend your hand For the times they are a-changin’ The line it is drawn The curse it is cast The slow one now Will later be fast As the present now Will later be past The order is rapidly fadin’ And the first one now will later be last For the times they are a-changin’
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Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC
The times they are a changin... ( written and sung by bob dylan) lyrics
U woke me up for this? **** OFF! I can't believe this **** **** OFF! no I don't need savin! **** OFF! no I won't be behavin! **** OFF! cuz all your meddlin' **** OFF! is just Jehovah peddlin'! **** OFF! i must not be clear! **** OFF! or just holy **** in ears! **** OFF! you want me 2 pray cuz i'm bitter? **** OFF! the only kneelin'  I'll be doin' is behind yo sister! **NOW **** OFF!**
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Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 5:55 PM UTC
Jesus loves ME? (EXPLICIT)
woke up in the mornin with a very bad headache not realisin' that there was screamin downstairs so i rush downnn to save mama from you blood trickles down her nose and i see a tear or two you stare at me with demonns in your eyes like im the one that disobeyed the human rights ill save you i said mama dont you cry but shes a hero and she dont need savin now said mama, i swear to you my child said mama, your father has run wild i promise you that i will keep you safe no one will hurt you, because we are a free state oh mama oh mama oh mama living alone, is a tough job to keep constant nightmares, of the mistakes you might have made i crawl into her bed at night like i used to at 5 years of age to keep her safe and i see her smile she stares at me with angels in her eyes like im the saviour that god has sent her cuz ill save you darlin she said baby dont you cry your my hero and i dont need savin now and i dont need savin nowwwww said mama, i swear to you my child said mama, your father has run wild i promise you that i will keep you safe no one will hurt you, because we are a free state oh mama oh mama oh mama oh mama oh mama oh mama etc etc
0
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 2:52 PM UTC
oh mama
In chains trying to make change Arrange for a plane to far away plains In vain he hopes to stand On his two feet but love, he cannot believe. So much pressure he bought it no receipt. I got these white collars stressing me, telling me, wear your tie pick up your feet, please, my ancestors didn't fight to see, me, 36 floors up fashion hanging me, from the metaphorical tree. No they won't see me groveling on my knees. I'm a proud black man dyeing to be, free, and its funny cause we all dyeing to be, something, and time don't cease and we just micro-living in peace, or pain, or plain vanilla. (Columbus day) In a noose finding proof Board a boat to a faraway moat Round we go, at least he's afloat In a sea of uncertainty, certainly, he can handle what he see's But what about what he feels I don't know what's worse. The loss or the hurt. I see the day as the end of natural earth. Borders crossed never to be returned. The order was established I'm still fellin the aftershock. They mock my art, mock my creativity, try to mock the essence of me. But in a sense its good, I guess, allowing free expression to get this stress off my chest. Blessed I feel every day to know I aint got to go. The box that surrounds me is just metaphorical. Even the rules in place are deplorable, meanin ignorable. If it don't help it hurt and the new jim crow need some work. But as long as I can escape it, as long as I can break out the box, as long as I can stand on two feet, the oppressor will never catch me on my knees in a noose or fighting to get loose. My mind is already liberated, my education has focused my hatred, and I realized they the ones that need the savin.
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Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 12:02 PM UTC
Diary of a mad black man
In chains trying to make change Arrange for a plane to far away plains In vain he hopes to stand On his two feet but love, he cannot believe. So much pressure he bought it no receipt. I got these white collars stressing me, telling me, wear your tie pick up your feet, please, my ancestors didn't fight to see, me, 36 floors up fashion hanging me, from the metaphorical tree. No they won't see me groveling on my knees. I'm a proud black man dyeing to be, free, and its funny cause we all dyeing to be, something, and time don't cease and we just micro-living in peace, or pain, or plain vanilla. (Columbus day) In a noose finding proof Board a boat to a faraway moat Round we go, at least he's afloat In a sea of uncertainty, certainly, he can handle what he see's But what about what he feels I don't know what's worse. The loss or the hurt. I see the day as the end of natural earth. Borders crossed never to be returned. The order was established I'm still fellin the aftershock. They mock my art, mock my creativity, try to mock the essence of me. But in a sense its good, I guess, allowing free expression to get this stress off my chest. Blessed I feel every day to know I aint got to go. The box that surrounds me is just metaphorical. Even the rules in place are deplorable, meanin ignorable. If it don't help it hurt and the new jim crow need some work. But as long as I can escape it, as long as I can break out the box, as long as I can stand on two feet, the oppressor will never catch me on my knees in a noose or fighting to get loose. My mind is already liberated, my education has focused my hatred, and I realized they the ones that need the savin.
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16
Hate of the nation The population Don't you know what your facin? Still spacin? Can't run away cause we'll keep on chasin' Time to fight back From the get go **** holdin' back Time to let go We done with the peace We'll keep fighting back And never take ease Hit you deep for the shell shock Here's a beating from the helpless ones you mock We aren't here to knock Breakin' down ya door Bringing out what we got in store A hell lot more 20 million haters washin' up on shore Spit back out from the ocean blue Dark fantasies are coming true About the day you suckers get the pay Where would we be without the hate? How would ever thing be? No one would be pleased by a goofy fantasy -Hell no But keep it comin' It's gettin' kinda funny You must be jealous of my money And I'm not braggin' honey I'll throw back whatever you give I know your bite ain't even close to your bark You should know better than that Put you mouth in park "Never more" says the raven You won't ever find a safe haven This hate is savin' I stay bold I don't do what I'm told This anger is way hard to be controlled And if it get's out I gotta let it out Come on now shout
0
Jan 25, 2011
Jan 25, 2011 at 2:18 PM UTC
Hate of the Nation
People made me feel so empty People made me feel so lost People made me feel ugly They filled me with self hate And now I cry when I hear a song on the radio That reminds me of the love that I lost long ago And now I cry when I see friends holding hands Reminding me of the ones I have loved and lost I have never felt like I belonged anywhere People called me names and pushed me away Made me feel like I was to blame... I have never felt any true love Neither physical or emotional No one ever made me feel fine No one ever made me feel like I had someone to call my own No one ever truly stayed here So now I drown my sorrows in My tears that I've been savin' Here
0
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 4:18 PM UTC
Emotional
walking down the street it's getting dark wishing i hadn't forgot where i parked i've never really been to to your neighborhood anyway you're still sitting on your roof smokin' a cigarette already forgotten that i'd left I never really was your hero anyway and never have you ever really needed savin' i just wanted to be someone you could hide in you always thought there was something beautiful bout being alone so i'll never know walking to my door, get a buzz on my phone you say never have you ever felt so alone and he never really felt as good as you anyway come save the day but she never really ever needed savin' and i just wanted to be someone she could hide in she always thought there was something beautiful bout being alone so she'll never know
0
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 2:28 PM UTC
really (uni)
[Lyric re-write: The Times they are a Changin’, by Bob Dylan] Come gather ‘round, voters Wherever’s your Poll? And admit rising waters Around you now flow And accept it is sooner Than science had shown It’s ah crime the earth we’re not savin’ Get propeller power whirlin’ Charge yer lights with the sun For the Climate is ah Changin’ Come haters and cynics Who Twitter and spin Better open yer eyes For the Glaciers are thin Our POTUS hates science Wants it all about him No compassion for another He’s a gamblin’ we’re losers And payin’ his bills While the Climate is ah Changin’ Come Senator McConnell Stop blockin’ the Bills Don’t stand in our way As the ice melts and spills Our earth is ah hurtin’ While you don’t heed calls The storm outside is ah ragin’ And soon for our children No future at all For the Climate is a Changin’ Come sisters and brothers We must make a stand And all realize What is now in our hands For if we do nothin’ They’ll ravish the land Unlivable for the ages Inaction and tarry Is all they have planned While the Climate is ah Changin’ The time has now come The dye, it is cast If we slow down It’ll soon come to pass Our chances are fadin’ The present, our last Leavin’ life no safe haven So what we don’t need Is coal, oil, or gas Cuz the Climate is a Changin’
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Sep 7, 2019
Sep 7, 2019 at 7:05 PM UTC
The Climate is ah Changin'
How we marvel at possessions, think they make the best impressions; For with material things we establish a close rapport. Can’t you see we are infected by this false truth we’ve injected Into the minds we’ve neglected, directed by commercial lore. "These things will make you happy,” says the preacher of commercial lore, Only this and nothing more. There are nights we sit there spying, through our computer screens buying Bourbon, books, and onyx watches, razor blades and house décor, Bright scarfs in brilliant vermilion, cowboy boots coated reptilian, Stroll through any mall pavilion, civilians went in every store. Like clockwork we comeback again, millions spent in every store; We always want something more. Like in monopoly we aspire, the best estates to acquire, So other players can look in envy at our great high score. With the money we’ve been savin’, we want a home in New Haven, So we sought a market Maven, craving a house on the shore, A vintage house with wooden dock sitting calmly on the shore. Can we find one that’s worth more? Queerly we lust for assets, keep on buying have no regrets. Are we dumb or blind or numb to keep doing what we abhor? Statues shackled to cubicles, doped up on pharmaceuticals ****** fingers raw cuticles, we’re bulls for the matador. He dances us round in circles, pulls the sword the matador Is the one we all fall for. But the Maven respectfully will encourage us helpfully, “Follow your path of senseless sorrow, leave your qualms at the door, Carry on with inhibition, keep working for that commission, Please don’t mind your intuition, fruition comes from spending more.” But like layered lies there’s a pea of truth on the mattress floor; A princess would wake up sore. We must move past our gluttony, and join the better company Of men meek in spirit who act humbly like the days of yore. Realize that joy stems from passion, not this sorry thing called fashion; Embrace others with compassion to truly make our hearts soar; And our souls from out the shadows can truly begin to soar. Let’s be greedy – nevermore.
0
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 2:09 AM UTC
The Maven
How we marvel at possessions, think they make the best impressions; For with material things we establish a close rapport. Can’t you see we are infected by this false truth we’ve injected Into the minds we’ve neglected, directed by commercial lore. "These things will make you happy,” says the preacher of commercial lore, Only this and nothing more. There are nights we sit there spying, through our computer screens buying Bourbon, books, and onyx watches, razor blades and house décor, Bright scarfs in brilliant vermilion, cowboy boots coated reptilian, Stroll through any mall pavilion, civilians went in every store. Like clockwork we comeback again, millions spent in every store; We always want something more. Like in monopoly we aspire, the best estates to acquire, So other players can look in envy at our great high score. With the money we’ve been savin’, we want a home in New Haven, So we sought a market Maven, craving a house on the shore, A vintage house with wooden dock sitting calmly on the shore. Can we find one that’s worth more? Queerly we lust for assets, keep on buying have no regrets. Are we dumb or blind or numb to keep doing what we abhor? Statues shackled to cubicles, doped up on pharmaceuticals ****** fingers raw cuticles, we’re bulls for the matador. He dances us round in circles, pulls the sword the matador Is the one we all fall for. But the Maven respectfully will encourage us helpfully, “Follow your path of senseless sorrow, leave your qualms at the door, Carry on with inhibition, keep working for that commission, Please don’t mind your intuition, fruition comes from spending more.” But like layered lies there’s a pea of truth on the mattress floor; A princess would wake up sore. We must move past our gluttony, and join the better company Of men meek in spirit who act humbly like the days of yore. Realize that joy stems from passion, not this sorry thing called fashion; Embrace others with compassion to truly make our hearts soar; And our souls from out the shadows can truly begin to soar. Let’s be greedy – nevermore.
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36
the sun is up today reveal itself and it aint good who did it? who stole the power? what shall we do? our love has been perverted our ability to love what shall we do? the slow reconnection with the pure the overthrow of all limitations the psychodelic expansion of self today stands on its own we too we too declare divinity we too declare the reality is ours forever we are real here forever come my love love
0
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 10:17 AM UTC
savin
To Em I’ve been tryin to send you letters for the longest time now But they’ve got me movin Bed to bed Hospital to hospital Everything is dirt here They say Im gonna lose both my legs, Em Truth is I’m scared I’m far away from home In this ****** jungle And I’m just trying to survive I don’t wanna die Em I wanna see you so bad. I Know This is all a dream and in a minute Ill wake up And you’ll be layin there next to me warm Your hair all soft on my face I can smell your perfume Teardrops Tell me Em that your waitin for me That I ain’t comin home alive For you And you ain’t there Em, your my life Your my angel Savin me from all of this I lay here and listen to full grown men cry and beg for death Men screamin for their mommas Teardrops I lay here quiet with my pillow over my head just dreamin about you Bout us In my bedroom wakin up in the morning cause the dog wont shutup and has to *** And I can just get up and let him out I just wanna walk on the grass in the front yard Inside your wearin my Led Zepplin shirt just smiling at me standin out there like a fool I just wanna hear the dogs bark down the street again I just wanna see my room **** in my own toilet Sleep in my own bed Brush my teeth in my own sink And for ******* christ’s sake take a shower I think about you all the time Em And if I die I promise no matter how bad it hurts Ill be thinkin bout you Takin me to heaven Kissin me on my shoulder. Huggin me on my neck
0
Nov 3, 2011
Nov 3, 2011 at 10:55 AM UTC
Some letter to Emily
straight to the edge surpass light speed full reverse thrusters tractor beam money exchanged souls bought and sold twist the tourniquet bleeding uncontrolled satisfy thirst bringin' the onslaught don't know better what they were taught it's over now the good guys won final scene moppin' up blood surrender in droves white flags wavin' hands in the air these souls need savin'
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Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
a little cleaning up to do
I’m like a knock-off Edgar Allen Poe But instead of raving about a raven I croon about a crow Who comes a-fluttering And I start my muttering About I do not need savin’
0
Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 5:36 AM UTC
Poe
”You ain’t nothing in this town, kid.” I slid my hands in my pockets, slouching just like mother told me not to. “You’ll be crushed by the others. They’ll do things to you that you’ll never forget. You ain’t never gonna live ‘em down.” What this guy doesn’t know is back where I was from, I wasn’t anyone either. “Best ‘o luck, though luck ain’t savin' you here.” His legs led him into the blinding sunset, into the city of ruins and graffiti. It was like fire. A calm, consuming fire, enveloping the dying buildings, swallowing his silhouette. I’ve yet to understand why my mother gave birth to me. I ran away from her away from everything I understood. and now I’m lost in a pile of the same **** simply located elsewhere. I don’t belong here. I don’t belong anywhere. The world is too beautiful for me, and it’s inhabitants are the source of all my misfortunes.
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Aug 5, 2012
Aug 5, 2012 at 10:12 PM UTC
New Kid
How we marvel at possessions, think they make the best impressions; For with material things we establish a close rapport. Can’t you see we are infected by this false truth we’ve injected Into the minds we’ve neglected, directed by commercial lore. “These things will make you happy,” says the preacher of commercial lore, Only this and nothing more. There are nights we sit there spying, through our computer screens buying Bourbon, books, and onyx watches, razor blades and house décor, Brilliant scarfs in bright vermilion, cowboy boots coated reptilian, Stroll through any mall pavilion, civilians shop in every store. Like clockwork we comeback again, millions spent in every store; We always want something more. Like in monopoly we aspire, the best estates to acquire, So other players can look in envy at our great high score. With the money we’ve been savin’, we want a home in New Haven, So we sought a market Maven, craving a house on the shore, A vintage house with wooden dock sitting calmly on the shore. Can we find one that’s worth more? Queerly we lust for assets, keep on buying have no regrets. Are we dumb or blind or numb to keep doing what we abhor? Statues shackled to cubicles, doped up on pharmaceuticals ****** fingers raw cuticles, we’re bulls for the matador. He dances us round in circles, pulls the sword the matador Is the one we all fall for. But the Maven respectfully will encourage us helpfully, “Follow your path of senseless sorrow, leave your qualms at the door, Carry on with inhibition, keep working for that commission, Please don’t mind your intuition, fruition comes from spending more.” But like layered lies there’s a pea of truth on the mattress floor; A princess would wake up sore. We must move past our gluttony, and join the better company Of men meek in spirit who act humbly like the days of yore. Realize that joy stems from passion, not this sorry thing called fashion; Embrace others with compassion to truly make our hearts soar; And our souls from out the shadows can truly begin to soar. Let’s be greedy – nevermore.
0
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 1:46 PM UTC
The Maven
How we marvel at possessions, think they make the best impressions; For with material things we establish a close rapport. Can’t you see we are infected by this false truth we’ve injected Into the minds we’ve neglected, directed by commercial lore. “These things will make you happy,” says the preacher of commercial lore, Only this and nothing more. There are nights we sit there spying, through our computer screens buying Bourbon, books, and onyx watches, razor blades and house décor, Brilliant scarfs in bright vermilion, cowboy boots coated reptilian, Stroll through any mall pavilion, civilians shop in every store. Like clockwork we comeback again, millions spent in every store; We always want something more. Like in monopoly we aspire, the best estates to acquire, So other players can look in envy at our great high score. With the money we’ve been savin’, we want a home in New Haven, So we sought a market Maven, craving a house on the shore, A vintage house with wooden dock sitting calmly on the shore. Can we find one that’s worth more? Queerly we lust for assets, keep on buying have no regrets. Are we dumb or blind or numb to keep doing what we abhor? Statues shackled to cubicles, doped up on pharmaceuticals ****** fingers raw cuticles, we’re bulls for the matador. He dances us round in circles, pulls the sword the matador Is the one we all fall for. But the Maven respectfully will encourage us helpfully, “Follow your path of senseless sorrow, leave your qualms at the door, Carry on with inhibition, keep working for that commission, Please don’t mind your intuition, fruition comes from spending more.” But like layered lies there’s a pea of truth on the mattress floor; A princess would wake up sore. We must move past our gluttony, and join the better company Of men meek in spirit who act humbly like the days of yore. Realize that joy stems from passion, not this sorry thing called fashion; Embrace others with compassion to truly make our hearts soar; And our souls from out the shadows can truly begin to soar. Let’s be greedy – nevermore.
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a little bit a luck a little love we lie so easily ------ what da hell's wrong here? -------- pain? havent we caused enough? felt enough? ----- savin what we have been losin broken hearts broken memories ------ what da hell's wrong here? ---- you wanna know my name? why? are you the police? ----- a little bit a luck a little love yea, sure tell me
0
Nov 18, 2010
Nov 18, 2010 at 1:45 PM UTC
savin
A season prim hostler's proper attire while this bolsome flower is blooming by the savin juniper shade though a diadem purport the crescent wane anew in mouthes of horses nights attain a welding of alliance brilliantly tempered how it has grown afield in agronomics with a tact of finance in speedy recovery again!
0
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 8:31 AM UTC
A Bolsome Affair