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"sigmund" poems
Annoying At night I hear neighbors dogs barking, under my wheels, their dogs I'm parking. In the night, I hear things that go bump, I load up the shotgun, and give it a pump. Jehovah witnesses knocking at the front door, how I wish, I could bury them under my floor. The car in front of me driving to slow, my horn I give a constant blow. The person in front of me at the store, taking to long, some people on this Earth just don't belong. Can't seem to get an ******** even my hand got a rejection. Roller coaster breaks down, right before my turn, I've now reached the point of no return. So many things make me annoyed, maybe I need to visit Sigmund Freud. Dinner not quite ready on time, running out of things to rhyme. No electric for more than an hour, a woman that requires to much flour. Watching movies I don't like, My job is now going on strike. Wiping my *** more than once, wearing a hat that spells dunce. Wife of ten years asked for a divorce, things in life not taking the right course. **** sites that make me pay, my hair that is turning grey. My beautiful children that never call, girls that think my ***** is to small. People that think their better than me, having to pay for things that are free. Things that annoy me is such a huge list, just thinking about it is getting me ******
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Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 1:43 AM UTC
Annoying
some may say a man with a beard has something to hide some may say a bearded man is a lonely man let me tell you a law of the known universe all great influential men had beards Consider this: The Soul is set aflame by the constant ruminations of the mind that venture beyond one’s stagnant self. This leads to great inspiration and ultimately inspiring others greatly. so you see only the bearded man can transcend himself List of Great Bearded Men: Frederick Douglas, Ulysses S. Grant, Ernest Hemingway, Jesus, Abraham Lincoln, Confucius, Karl Marx, Sigmund Freud, John Lennon, Vincent Van Gogh, Albert Einstein, King Leonidas, Zeus, Poseidon, Billy Mays, Most notable Pirates.
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Dec 2, 2011
Dec 2, 2011 at 1:02 AM UTC
The Beard
As I let my mind wander into time, and release these binds that have me confined, I began to feel a great energy, like the sun had been compressed and put into me, and as time tic tocs and unwinds into its trail of infinity. I realize a trinity mind body soul, they burn as a whole, for the mightiest of goals. and as time unwinds it'll leave you behind. unless you get your spot in, a line of legacys never to be forgotten Confucius, Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, Martin Luther King Jr, George Washington, Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara, Nelson Mendala, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, Steve Jobs, Stephen Hawkins, Leonardo Da Vinci, Wolfgang Amedeus Mozart, nikola tesla, Wael Ghonim, Jimi Hendrix, Joseph Stiglitz, Reed Hastings, François Rabelais, Archimedes, Sigmund Frued, Charles Darwin, Aryabhata, Bob Marley, Garrett Morgan, George Washington Carver, Aristotle, John Locke, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Plato, Galileo Galilei...and many many more... Stand for something. Think outside the box. Evolve and express yourself. Make a difference  #STEM #LegacyToIfinity
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Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
Thoughts of a Legacy
I am the pretender You must precensor When I'm an inventor Who can't get centered I'm the apologist You're the psychologist We have a suitable deal You provide an even keel And cook delicious meals And let my fingers feel But you do so much more Going deeper than the shore You make a difference By insistence I see your footprints In the distance They lead me to progress My mind cannot process Those things I can't fathom You effortlessly grab them You were my bastion of behavior I thought you were my savior You're more like Charles Xavier Controlling my mind To keep me blind By taking my vision When you make your incision And put me in prison You're Sigmund Freud On steroids You fill my void Then get annoyed You cured me of my madness Yet instilled sadness When I got addicted to your healing But then heard your tires peeling After all your analysis You deemed me talentless You used to be my example of what to be Now you're my example of what to flee You made me hate the number three While running my car into a tree Which made me scream ouch My ejection from your couch So I hide in my palace And drink from a chalice Filled with mindless malice While holding my phallus But I learned my lesson One last confession Someone that can calm my brain Can also leave a permanent stain
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Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 2:25 PM UTC
Psychologist
Backed and sponsored by the cabinet Our heads on the server and internet BCI experiments while we're under the duvet Foot-soldiers follow orders on their handset Rockwell is not paranoid They've seen us on the TV, iPad, iPhone, and Android The BCI app that makes us annoyed Please God, destroy that satellite with an android My doctor is like Sigmund Freud Give him the anti psychotic steroid For making money off the unemployed
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Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 9:33 AM UTC
Research Redemption
it would have happened by chance that Sigmund encountered Harry Houdini; both infamous Ashkanazim intellects, Freud expounds his theories to a sleepy & restless Houdini; Freud seeing the renown magician nodding off offers him a hit of coke, which Harry takes grateful & is soon asleep & dreaming of Freud's weird theories of the mind seeing himself as Perseus being guided by Ariadne's line through a complex multilevel space that defies three-dimensional perception; Harry thus finds himself firmly in the camp of the Symbolists, leading to the school of the Surrealists & later, LSD-25 & some of the greatest, most enlightened music of all time; as Dionysus judges the underworld in a long line of judges, from Thoth to Bacchus to Satan
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 10:38 PM UTC
escape is easy for the guilty
I am not Sigmund Freud you're just a ***** however, be crude and send me a ****
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Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 8:05 AM UTC
21st century courting
Honorable politician, Truthful and without ambition, Found behind bars his own place. Such a lucky mental case! Her eyes are truly not hypnotic Although her smile is mystery, Each man by nature too myopic Is guilty of adultery. Because she had an empty purse, Yet smiling strange like La Joconde, He drove his Jaguar in reverse Thinking she was another blonde. She had a few coins for grissini, Wearing her old and too short skirt. With mercy, dressed in white silk shirt, He bought for her pretty bikini. A young woman said: “My love is like sunshine”. An old woman whined: “My rheumatism foretells rain”. I stood silent between them, under cloudy skies, Believing the weather report lies. Sigmund Freud, Before others find the steroid, Dived his nose under the *** drive, But ******* kept him alive. Schizophrenia survey: Doctor: Have you ever had hallucinations? Patient: No, have you ever seen a schizophrenic? D: Are you a ****** P: No, until I meet the right man. D: Have you heard strange voices around? P: No, my parrot doesn't speak. D: Do you think you are a great woman? P: No, I killed only a few cockroaches, with too much spray. D: Do you think you are a martyr? P: No, martyrs are killed in a short time and everyone is happy afterwards. D: Do you think you should die? P: No, it is better on the floor than below. D: Can you forgive others' sins? P: No, Jesus Christ was better than me. D: Do you think you have enemies? P: No, I don't have a hammer drill. D: Do you love your mother? P: No, only our feelings are the same. D: Did you try to **** yourself? P: Yes, because whatever I asked, others said NO. Patient: Doctor, what are you thinking now? Doctor: That you never think.
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Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 3:28 AM UTC
My kind of humor
Honorable politician, Truthful and without ambition, Found behind bars his own place. Such a lucky mental case! Her eyes are truly not hypnotic Although her smile is mystery, Each man by nature too myopic Is guilty of adultery. Because she had an empty purse, Yet smiling strange like La Joconde, He drove his Jaguar in reverse Thinking she was another blonde. She had a few coins for grissini, Wearing her old and too short skirt. With mercy, dressed in white silk shirt, He bought for her pretty bikini. A young woman said: “My love is like sunshine”. An old woman whined: “My rheumatism foretells rain”. I stood silent between them, under cloudy skies, Believing the weather report lies. Sigmund Freud, Before others find the steroid, Dived his nose under the *** drive, But ******* kept him alive. Schizophrenia survey: Doctor: Have you ever had hallucinations? Patient: No, have you ever seen a schizophrenic? D: Are you a ****** P: No, until I meet the right man. D: Have you heard strange voices around? P: No, my parrot doesn't speak. D: Do you think you are a great woman? P: No, I killed only a few cockroaches, with too much spray. D: Do you think you are a martyr? P: No, martyrs are killed in a short time and everyone is happy afterwards. D: Do you think you should die? P: No, it is better on the floor than below. D: Can you forgive others' sins? P: No, Jesus Christ was better than me. D: Do you think you have enemies? P: No, I don't have a hammer drill. D: Do you love your mother? P: No, only our feelings are the same. D: Did you try to **** yourself? P: Yes, because whatever I asked, others said NO. Patient: Doctor, what are you thinking now? Doctor: That you never think.
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47
i have always been farther away than the last moment spoken between + the label, yet there is nowhere beyond my mind that i know how to reach. it was a sadistic run-of -the-mill that allowed me to bring light upon a beam of light shadowed in a corner and hiding in hyperspace, speedier than a tachyon yet delicious in a red-wine finish.. i skip labor as proof that i am free but who in the *actual **** is your leader? there are moments i can supine from the words you write in direct reference to the life i've lived since September.. but the proof is that i have streaks of euphoria and clam ouring happiness amidst a dull ball -park surrounded by the Lost and the ****** a new list of habits would have to include my rampant affair with alcoholism, my flirting with a boardwalk death-wish in the form of Dunhill cigarettes **** you, Sigmund Freud) (*all because a friend discovered Dunhill's to be the favourite choice of Hunter S. Thompson*) and a lack of physical exercise beyond the legs which leaves me brain-atrophy construction-zoned & & & deadinthewater
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Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
arcane acherage
He was a paranoid He was a schizoid He thought he was living on an asteroid Until he went to the policeman's ball He still believes in Sigmund Freud He's feeling guilty since he was a boy He was a paranoid Until he went to the policeman's ball When he doesn't think he's been acting right He's sure he'll be attacked at night Looking at people with such fear in is eyes It's a wonder that he ever survives He was a paranoid
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Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 9:42 AM UTC
Paranoid
Catatonic expressions On a Schizophrenic adolescent Bipolar bearings Helping ‘em stand On both sides Of the argument Arduous Amore The Mental Asylum Silences me If I speak I’ll show how weak My will To not spill Crazy thoughts Is I remain thoughtless My conclusion Signifies delusion I hypothesize My hyperactivity Is a hyperbole Constructed By psychotic psychiatry Sigmund Freud Prescribed ******* And left The remains Of white dust On the brains That trust Like the kid With ADD Who adds pills To feel Emotionless   If too much emotion is Not a enough To be a human I’ll alienate Myself from You men Few men Understand The acumen of Wisdom They fear What they don’t know I’m unknown Anonymous Synonymous With the Question Mark Who am I? This question marks The beginning Of most journeys Mine began With I know who I am, But how can I show it? I became An open book That was over looked By the minds I tried to reach Read As comic relief For The Intellectually Elite
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Oct 30, 2010
Oct 30, 2010 at 4:26 PM UTC
Catatonia
I want a Clarence and Alabama kind of love. I want a call girl with hardly enough experience to fall for me, not a ***** there's a difference. I want a girl who would drop everything and go with me anywhere with more ******* than Sigmund Freud could dream of and believe in everything I did no matter how purple my car is. I want a girl who doesn't care that only fools rush in and knows there is nothing cooler than Elvis glasses and triple kung fu features. I want a girl who tastes like a peach and knows how to utilize a phone booth without dialing a number. I want a girl who would **** Tony freaking Soprano, burn his face off like a vampire's in the sun, just to see me again. I want a girl to move with me to Mexico and name our son after the king of rock n roll who only cares about living fast, dying young, and leaving a good looking corpse. I want a girl to tell me You're so cool!
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Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 9:28 PM UTC
True Romance
It seems these antihistamines Are causing reoccurring dreams For every time I go to bed The same old scene is in my head Like the one where all my teeth fall out As I sit and pluck them out of my mouth This one causes a lot of strife For I've had this dream my entire life So I searched for answers everywhere And this is what they had to share The native said it signifies Remorse I feel from telling lies Which I guess would be appropriate I tend to say things I regret So I went to see a medium To trace back where this all begun We tried to get mister Jung But as the Latin rolled off her tongue To our surprise Before our eyes Stood the spirit of Sigmund Freud Claiming I need *** to fill the void A conversation I'd rather avoid Needless to say we ended the spell I gave her my paycheck and bid farewell And as I exited out to the street I almost hung my head in defeat But the natives words came back to me Bringing a sudden epiphany It occurred to me as I was walking I really need to just stop talking. Perhaps I'll be a silent monk To help me get out of this funk But that just sounds absurd I can figure out how this problem incurred I don't need to see a therapist Or invoke a psychoanalyst   I will just continue on my quest Until I obtain some dreamless rest I'm sure I can find the connection By immersing in more self-reflection So when I go to bed tonight I'll study my dreams with all my might!!
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Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 4:46 PM UTC
Dream Schemes
Tick tock went the clock, echoing through monastery halls, synchronizing the actions of men, building up modernity’s walls. Creatively destructive, eternal yet fleeting, modernity was paradoxical, according to the Harvey reading. Art had expanded, abstraction arises, and Sigmund loves his mom, more than anyone realizes. Our friends the id, the ego and its super, tell us who we are, Freud has the world in a stupor. A catch-22 for dear Pablo, who will sleep with a **** but is terrified of syphilis, as is seen in his art. There was power and truth, and Foucault says we’re repressive, but suddenly things change, Postmodernity becomes quite impressive. PoMo cares not for beauty, or what pleases the public eye. It’s style for style’s sake, in the buildings stretching toward the sky. Uma dances with John, a young boy finds a severed ear, Joaquin loves his OS, PoMo film is, well, Queer. Yuppies love pastiche, their lofts were once a workplace, they’ve coated them with chrome, they’ve gentrified the space. Unlimited breadsticks have soiled the very Italian name, Baudrillard says it’s simulacrum, there is no truth, it’s all the same. We traipse through this postmodern world, not knowing postmodernity is where we are. We wear workboots to fashion shows, we worship that reality star. We think we’re special snowflakes, and skinny jeans make us cool, and media exposure’s made us cynics, quite impossible to fool. What we don’t realize is that we are not our own, we are pseudo individuals, through PoMo we have grown.
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May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 11:09 PM UTC
Postmonerdity
Tick tock went the clock, echoing through monastery halls, synchronizing the actions of men, building up modernity’s walls. Creatively destructive, eternal yet fleeting, modernity was paradoxical, according to the Harvey reading. Art had expanded, abstraction arises, and Sigmund loves his mom, more than anyone realizes. Our friends the id, the ego and its super, tell us who we are, Freud has the world in a stupor. A catch-22 for dear Pablo, who will sleep with a **** but is terrified of syphilis, as is seen in his art. There was power and truth, and Foucault says we’re repressive, but suddenly things change, Postmodernity becomes quite impressive. PoMo cares not for beauty, or what pleases the public eye. It’s style for style’s sake, in the buildings stretching toward the sky. Uma dances with John, a young boy finds a severed ear, Joaquin loves his OS, PoMo film is, well, Queer. Yuppies love pastiche, their lofts were once a workplace, they’ve coated them with chrome, they’ve gentrified the space. Unlimited breadsticks have soiled the very Italian name, Baudrillard says it’s simulacrum, there is no truth, it’s all the same. We traipse through this postmodern world, not knowing postmodernity is where we are. We wear workboots to fashion shows, we worship that reality star. We think we’re special snowflakes, and skinny jeans make us cool, and media exposure’s made us cynics, quite impossible to fool. What we don’t realize is that we are not our own, we are pseudo individuals, through PoMo we have grown.
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57
Today, we sketch ourselves. Draw a circle for the head. Two dots for eyes, One for nose. Draw the mouth. Truer than the mirror. No narcis-stick needed. No Leonardo or Sigmund. A self-introspective selfie.
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Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 8:02 PM UTC
Self-introspection 101 (a partici-poem)
Sigmund Freud ****** Frustration ******* Doting Mom
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Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 12:26 AM UTC
Freud's Business Card
sigmund freud believed we all carry within ourselves a suicide impulse, some strange & counter-evolutionary desire to return to that moment of perfect, untainted stillness before birth. i don't know if i agree, but i know enough to know i want to feel that quiet instead of the voices in my head. you don't need to give me more reasons to pick myself apart; i never said i was perfect.   you don't need to point out the flaws i already hate myself for. the truth is this: i have found someone who makes me feel like me again, who i will expose myself to, in uncompromised vulnerability, & who will love every bit of ugly, who will make me better. my lungs do not know how to be lungs, i am becoming bones again, the scars on my wrists threatening to arise as fresh again.. i have never once thought myself good enough & now he is teaching me how to believe just that.  everything else is falling beneath me; it is all a ball & chain around my ankles, while your words rail through me, bullets giving me just one more reason to bleed again. these tears are not for you, i am not for you, i am trying to be better, & please, just let me fight the urge to seek that silence without giving me another reason to throw myself headlong down the rabbit hole.
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Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 2:04 PM UTC
the quiet & the calm
1 Sigmund Freud's sexuality theory-- not everyone could agree with or applaud some critics wrote derisively : 'His name should have been spelt Sickman Fraud'. 2 Freud was fixated on *** that constituted an obsession did he become so due to his own repression? 3 Freud: Religion is like childhood neurosis a statement too brash and bold if there were a heaven he would be left out in the cold. 4 Freud's home was full of antiques of all types was he a compulsive hoarder? how should he label himself? can we say  his mind was in complete order? 5 If you could understand Freud's theories on id, ego, super-ego you would get closer  to being a shrink some say--that's all you need to know.
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Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 4:04 AM UTC
HUMOUROUS/FRIVOLOUS POEMS (The Shrink Series 2)
walking the streets of Vienna with you things come alive venerable palaces waltzing around St. Stephen's beautiful white horses from the Spanish Riding School galloping through the Schönbrunn Park old Sigmund F. ogling the Viennese Choir Boys
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Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 6:22 PM UTC
revisioning
Creeping out of my head they're sprawled across the floor all hopes are dead and laying there. I have no want to go back to school, although knowledge has always been my passion. I can't even recall facts that I used to know, like the creases on the back of my hand, Music would radiate from my room Either the guitar the record player or my computer would blast ballads of love and of hate but I can't even remember a single song by the Foo Fighters. And I used to know them all. There is no love of knowing like there used to be no drive for novels short stories or poems, I don't know how I am going to manage the creativity that my life will desire from my brain. every desire to trip on acid or philosophize like Carl Sagan and Sigmund Freud... or both Dead as letters on this keyboard. I used to be bright, long haired and free I knew just about everything and would be up to try anything, but something happened and now its flowing through the cracks, I wanted to be cool I wanted to be new a smart boy, with secrets of which only some knew. brain dead and sad all my life draining and I don't know what to do. Now I'm a corpse in a shallow grave, if two feet above the my dreams and queen sized is shallow
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Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 12:03 AM UTC
Shallow
She proved Freud true. extreme pleasure reactions, resemble excruciating pain!
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Dec 10, 2011
Dec 10, 2011 at 8:17 PM UTC
she made Sigmund Freud proud
person 1                                   person 2 My heart stopped                                                    My heart stopped Reaching for Reason           I found only treasonous attempts of my breath                                                  I was hooked Line and Sinker and I sunk                            and I sunk Down to depths                   only Sigmund theoreticized about His eyes                                                                            Her smile begat me                                                                            grappling my mouth Yet still I flew                                                Free from pain, filled with euphoria Delirious, hungry, I questioned                                                 Is this real? His flesh?                                                 Her lips? Together our vessels rocked and moved as one I still questioned the horizon                                                looking for the morning, hoping he wouldn't see                                                my minute disguise defiled Is this real?                                                My heart still stopped Reaching for Rhyme                          We navigated the waters                                  only with time
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Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC
Duet of Hearts
person 1                                   person 2 My heart stopped                                                    My heart stopped Reaching for Reason           I found only treasonous attempts of my breath                                                  I was hooked Line and Sinker and I sunk                            and I sunk Down to depths                   only Sigmund theoreticized about His eyes                                                                            Her smile begat me                                                                            grappling my mouth Yet still I flew                                                Free from pain, filled with euphoria Delirious, hungry, I questioned                                                 Is this real? His flesh?                                                 Her lips? Together our vessels rocked and moved as one I still questioned the horizon                                                looking for the morning, hoping he wouldn't see                                                my minute disguise defiled Is this real?                                                My heart still stopped Reaching for Rhyme                          We navigated the waters                                  only with time
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28
Most people are psychotically misinformed therefore stingy with their time love and attention overemphasing their importance to the universe... Sigmund Freud Note: the "anagram" for Sigmund Freud = sum drug fiend
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Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 6:14 AM UTC
Sigmund Freud