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"slandering" poems
She's a Narcissistic ***** I quite often call her the Witch She ground a good man down through her greed and selfish desires she has no room for sympathy or compromise if the outcome does not involve her. Now that he is dead She won't leave him be and keeps slandering his memory hate is too good a word for her but my god I'd love to punch her
0
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 4:20 AM UTC
The Narcissistic *****
Oh black negus. Why do you hate me so much? Noticed I called you by your rightful title. Negus King, Ruler, Emperor Not ***** or ****** The derogatory term originating from the crackers, or ***** the mild disparagement softened by society made to think that it's acceptable. But anyway let's get back to it. Why do you hate me? Is it because of my full lips or my round hips? My low tolerance for ******** The way that my stretch marks are engraved in my skin? Or how the roots of my hair aren't so thin. Is it my naturally sun kissed skin? Even toned complexion? It just can't be my uncanny resemblance to Isis the Egyptian Goddess! So why not praise me for my natural features Why go on one knee for their paid for enhancements Should I react like Angela Basset in Waiting to Exhale? Screaming and shouting while my face is growing pale. But pardon my melanin I was perplexed by this darkness that stared at me in the mirror That stared at me looking in my lovers eyes and taunted me Smiles behind hidden hate they constantly berate my beauty But pardon my melanin My superiority is in my melanin Encased in my skeleton Our ancestors wouldn't like this They would not be proud of that colorism that exist They slander us for our features yet they list after it This systematic thinking has our men slandering us but they won't admit You continue to beat me down yet I am your mother. I am the fruit of this nation. But pardon my melanin So I'll ask again Why do you hate me? We are carved in the same beauty and without each other we can't exist I still remember the first day that we kissed but a few months later you left me for hailey in an unfortunate bliss Melanin filled girls I am here to say You are a queen never be afraid to be seen The brother that disrespect and degrade are absolutely absurd! You are not ratchet bitter or mean Youre a stunning melanin queen So pardon my melanin? Naw enlightened by me melanin.
0
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 1:02 AM UTC
Pardon my melanin
Oh black negus. Why do you hate me so much? Noticed I called you by your rightful title. Negus King, Ruler, Emperor Not ***** or ****** The derogatory term originating from the crackers, or ***** the mild disparagement softened by society made to think that it's acceptable. But anyway let's get back to it. Why do you hate me? Is it because of my full lips or my round hips? My low tolerance for ******** The way that my stretch marks are engraved in my skin? Or how the roots of my hair aren't so thin. Is it my naturally sun kissed skin? Even toned complexion? It just can't be my uncanny resemblance to Isis the Egyptian Goddess! So why not praise me for my natural features Why go on one knee for their paid for enhancements Should I react like Angela Basset in Waiting to Exhale? Screaming and shouting while my face is growing pale. But pardon my melanin I was perplexed by this darkness that stared at me in the mirror That stared at me looking in my lovers eyes and taunted me Smiles behind hidden hate they constantly berate my beauty But pardon my melanin My superiority is in my melanin Encased in my skeleton Our ancestors wouldn't like this They would not be proud of that colorism that exist They slander us for our features yet they list after it This systematic thinking has our men slandering us but they won't admit You continue to beat me down yet I am your mother. I am the fruit of this nation. But pardon my melanin So I'll ask again Why do you hate me? We are carved in the same beauty and without each other we can't exist I still remember the first day that we kissed but a few months later you left me for hailey in an unfortunate bliss Melanin filled girls I am here to say You are a queen never be afraid to be seen The brother that disrespect and degrade are absolutely absurd! You are not ratchet bitter or mean Youre a stunning melanin queen So pardon my melanin? Naw enlightened by me melanin.
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43
I like slandering your makeshift forceps. I hammer you down with watery *** and then spill the remainder on the couch. Yarg! A diamond’s worth at least a small intestine, and you are worth whatever’s left over after night has upended itself, poured sideways out of its shellacked crawlspace, and turned the basement sour. There are remnants of you in the park, some red stain by the baseball field where, if you’ll remember, you watched little leaguers build teamwork, and faint splotches on tree bark from your lactations which, if you’ll remember, happened every morning. I whisper your godforsaken name and am slapped in the head. The children cry when I smile. I cry when the children smile. Good heavens. I forbid you from not entering my corridor, even as I set up a barricade. I like my water scalding, my passion chilled, and I like you in easy-to- swallow doses. I like you in my eggs. Ditto the faucet, keyboard, the occasional lily, but do not mess with my pearls. I mumble of apodictic meadows while I sleep. What can I say? I do not mumble of unclogging your bathtub, which has a certain foul repute, and has grown heavy and ugly with your hair, which is everywhere, just as you are everywhere, and wherever, and so ********* hidden it’s not funny anymore, we stopped looking some millennia ago, after scouring the drainpipes, kicking down your doors, dissecting your mattress, speculating about your burial site, etcetera, and even so we have not been really looking all this time, have we, just blaring your name through the speakers, putting wrong numbers on our calling cards, leaving uncooked meat out on the back porch as if you were a raccoon, oh, or a lion, which you are not, or not quite, though, as the books say, you have honey in your stomach, and if you could but be ripped open we would taste and see.
0
May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 8:21 PM UTC
Sleep-deprived Birdcall (in the year in which the weather cancelled the subcommittee on the weather)
I like slandering your makeshift forceps. I hammer you down with watery *** and then spill the remainder on the couch. Yarg! A diamond’s worth at least a small intestine, and you are worth whatever’s left over after night has upended itself, poured sideways out of its shellacked crawlspace, and turned the basement sour. There are remnants of you in the park, some red stain by the baseball field where, if you’ll remember, you watched little leaguers build teamwork, and faint splotches on tree bark from your lactations which, if you’ll remember, happened every morning. I whisper your godforsaken name and am slapped in the head. The children cry when I smile. I cry when the children smile. Good heavens. I forbid you from not entering my corridor, even as I set up a barricade. I like my water scalding, my passion chilled, and I like you in easy-to- swallow doses. I like you in my eggs. Ditto the faucet, keyboard, the occasional lily, but do not mess with my pearls. I mumble of apodictic meadows while I sleep. What can I say? I do not mumble of unclogging your bathtub, which has a certain foul repute, and has grown heavy and ugly with your hair, which is everywhere, just as you are everywhere, and wherever, and so ********* hidden it’s not funny anymore, we stopped looking some millennia ago, after scouring the drainpipes, kicking down your doors, dissecting your mattress, speculating about your burial site, etcetera, and even so we have not been really looking all this time, have we, just blaring your name through the speakers, putting wrong numbers on our calling cards, leaving uncooked meat out on the back porch as if you were a raccoon, oh, or a lion, which you are not, or not quite, though, as the books say, you have honey in your stomach, and if you could but be ripped open we would taste and see.
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38
A best friend Be's the best he Can ever be Don't take it for granted that Everything goodll come if Fate allows it To fourth and search Hither until It knocks your head Just about right Know your enemies Love your friends Many are lost through Naysaying and slandering Obviously those types of People will realise Queens and Kings will be Recrowned, killed and Sanctioned against Through hatred and anger Unless a person who Verbs his way through Wards of hospitals where Xenophobia is lost while You sit like a caged animal in a ZOO!
0
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 12:04 PM UTC
ABC...
Fend off our victimisation Our celestial visualisation Help to keep the harmful at bay Tell us how love will find a way In times of ruinous meandering When our cognitive strengths are weak As baneful people take to slandering I will be there just seek I'm where you alone will find me When my troubled times will grind me I will seek my comfort in you There is nothing we cannot do The jealous, vicious, ugly hate That others land at our door The pain in their lives must be great To think they can destroy our core Life takes over it beats you down But your accomplishments renown The person you are in my eyes As through the ashes you will rise We stand, as always, together As one potent heart forever
0
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 7:04 AM UTC
I Won't Give Up On You
Following the path less taken Over all the low roads and Routes plummeting towards the craven Gateways of Hell takes the travelers Into enlightenment. Those who avoid Satan's Vengeance and forked whispers Emerge from the waters of the lake in Nature's womb veiled in holy layers Encompassing their soul. This ache in Society seeps into the bones of naysayers Slandering the purging powers of equal pardon.
0
Jun 24, 2019
Jun 24, 2019 at 12:17 PM UTC
Finding
Since lockdown, there is virtually no road **** no dead foxes, badgers, or rabbits on the wayside. Since lockdown there is virtually no refuse, no Kentucky or McDonald wrappers on the wayside. Since lockdown, there is virtually no pollution, no no noise or exhaust fumes or oil drips on the wayside. Since lockdown there is virtually no people, no idle gossip or slandering in groups on the wayside. Since lockdown there is virtually no spraying, no herbicides pesticides or fungicides on the wayside. Since lockdown, there is virtually no reason why anyone would wish for a re-opening. Of the wayside. Ps. I love Lockdown.
0
May 6, 2020
May 6, 2020 at 6:47 AM UTC
Since Lockdown
Kozarev, you are like a summer's day: Bright and brilliant; exotic and vibrant. Smart and gallant; generous and elegant. Our story is flickering like these smooth bushes of May; ah, but why I saw thee not today, I knew not why. How could I dream of thee not? Ah, my dreams are bad. Nature hath probably cursed whom; whenever they enter into my mind at night. I hate their promises, and their tongues- they are forever and ever slandering my faith-by chanting about thy presence, their mouths are fraught with lies; leaning to me like those filthy, ungodly, savagery; if I was to catch thee not- why should have they insisted so? I am jealous of those hidden faces, unknown Behind thy walls, impatient to grasp thee with a bite of lustful words, swearing at thy benevolence, for I canst be more so, and more generous than thou hath thought. My blood boileth with sickly temperaments- whenever I am bound to one thinking Of thy prudence, and tactfulness Towards the glamor of insipid dames. My soul becomes problematic, and forested in severed distraction and dismay by averted lips of choking and gasping all day! Ah, yes, suffrage shall be beneath my eyes, until no more breath is perhaps to remain, and only wreaths of crossness Frantically treading about the paths of my gouty lungs; wreaking away bit by bit their brevity, washing off every virulent trace of devotional identity, and gravity. This is harassing me-the knowledge of being unable to see thee once more, this evening, perhaps- and I am twisting and glaring at these painful thoughts like a dream. And you, you are-as the butterflies start to file Out of their realms and into our world You are just like their epic poems; fruitful and delicious indeed- but humble as those thorns, smiling at the sun though wounded; and laughing by the smallest of whose delight. Kozarev, you are my man; and as you dance along the gravel paths by handsome moonlight, you are even more glittering than which; and with thy stateliness You will but own my heart once more, lifting it up from every dim deprecation and fruitless laudation it hath hitherto ventured into. And I love thee and might just love thee more every day; more than every promise my poems can say, I adore thee and cannot live without thee Swift and marvelous is my love, blessed and ingenious as it shall ever be. I love thee, Kozarev. Obicham te.
0
May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 7:41 AM UTC
Obicham Te
Kozarev, you are like a summer's day: Bright and brilliant; exotic and vibrant. Smart and gallant; generous and elegant. Our story is flickering like these smooth bushes of May; ah, but why I saw thee not today, I knew not why. How could I dream of thee not? Ah, my dreams are bad. Nature hath probably cursed whom; whenever they enter into my mind at night. I hate their promises, and their tongues- they are forever and ever slandering my faith-by chanting about thy presence, their mouths are fraught with lies; leaning to me like those filthy, ungodly, savagery; if I was to catch thee not- why should have they insisted so? I am jealous of those hidden faces, unknown Behind thy walls, impatient to grasp thee with a bite of lustful words, swearing at thy benevolence, for I canst be more so, and more generous than thou hath thought. My blood boileth with sickly temperaments- whenever I am bound to one thinking Of thy prudence, and tactfulness Towards the glamor of insipid dames. My soul becomes problematic, and forested in severed distraction and dismay by averted lips of choking and gasping all day! Ah, yes, suffrage shall be beneath my eyes, until no more breath is perhaps to remain, and only wreaths of crossness Frantically treading about the paths of my gouty lungs; wreaking away bit by bit their brevity, washing off every virulent trace of devotional identity, and gravity. This is harassing me-the knowledge of being unable to see thee once more, this evening, perhaps- and I am twisting and glaring at these painful thoughts like a dream. And you, you are-as the butterflies start to file Out of their realms and into our world You are just like their epic poems; fruitful and delicious indeed- but humble as those thorns, smiling at the sun though wounded; and laughing by the smallest of whose delight. Kozarev, you are my man; and as you dance along the gravel paths by handsome moonlight, you are even more glittering than which; and with thy stateliness You will but own my heart once more, lifting it up from every dim deprecation and fruitless laudation it hath hitherto ventured into. And I love thee and might just love thee more every day; more than every promise my poems can say, I adore thee and cannot live without thee Swift and marvelous is my love, blessed and ingenious as it shall ever be. I love thee, Kozarev. Obicham te.
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62
Whatever God created one like me? One filled with such a stunning yearn To be lauded so bountifully To have the praise I feel I've earned And yet what deceitful praise be this? This medal, prize, or boon I seek? Life's great champion gets a kiss At his stage's end, upon his cheek Life's not worth living, lest I receive The title I think rightfully mine From it I truly feel bereaved My great pursuit, my silver line But to what end will I yet place? My worth on such a goal as this This victory I've given all to chase I fear that it does not exist Outside my mind there's no such thing As being "first" or "better" than These people I've been slandering For ego's sake, my fellow man What will become of the narcissist? And of the competitor at that? My flaws make a prodigious list My pride is huge, my doubt is fat The only cure is to accept Perfection is an imperfect aim I'm smart to think that I'm inept And that for me, to lose is gain
0
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 11:15 AM UTC
Ode to Competitive Narcissism
a toast to the gangsters, a toast to the pimps stand up gentleman take a bow take a bow a toast to the ****** a toast to the wanna be lovers stand up ladies take a bow curtsy) if you’re up to it poor legs poor nails poor car spoiled slandering moving cat across the room across the spill across the dress across the yelling and the screaming oh make it stop will they just shut up for some peace....and quiet.... cars’ been destroyed dress’ been ruined oh make it stop burn bathe in the fire walk through the flames come out a winner go right to dinner sleep wake up repeat (spoiled slandering moving masterpiece) I’m here at last mother(the final step) what could I be for the soiled money everything buy everything and stick it in forget about those getting stuffed and thrown i am my own&more; walk past the homeless who knows anyways upon all upon you this is burning watchthecars watch the cars watch....the...cars.. quickly swiftly they move fast and i am happiness does this make you happy the world we live in struck down by lightening and thunder ****** **** ****** theft all of the rage and anger’s been kept unto this moment untothisdream i am in control of my own dreams my own mind money money watch it burn burn it all laugh repeat if i were God’s foot i would smash it all no man two hundred feet tall feel like it lie to yourself sleep wake up repeat if i if i if i could i would burn it all today the education of the nation has been flushed away reading a book has been forgotten and instead they read how to take drugs through a can i can i can i can burn it all fathom me into the faintest pyromania-(the world we live in)-a statement of love and blessing faith’s faith in the world has failed i have failed it’s all burning already there’s no way to stop it scream this is all i have left at your feet i must break through this wall two hundred thousand feet tall t h------ ick take a lick screamandcry everyone’s lying and everyone’s crying and everyone’s dying please dear Jesus do something please i can not do this all on my own i am sick call a doctor over there’s the phone no more snow and no more rain lay down all of your strain your stress is at my disposal only a few days left we can watch it burn together (I am burnt) third degree just come and help me let us feel the click between us we are One and I’m no longer afraid of the world we live in perhaps but you are my hope lovelovelovelovehopeloveyes (when i think of you i know exactly in the end where we will go) i am a flower hold me embrace me let me know that I am loved too
0
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 12:45 PM UTC
Pyromania-(the World We Live In)-A Statement of Love&Blessing
a toast to the gangsters, a toast to the pimps stand up gentleman take a bow take a bow a toast to the ****** a toast to the wanna be lovers stand up ladies take a bow curtsy) if you’re up to it poor legs poor nails poor car spoiled slandering moving cat across the room across the spill across the dress across the yelling and the screaming oh make it stop will they just shut up for some peace....and quiet.... cars’ been destroyed dress’ been ruined oh make it stop burn bathe in the fire walk through the flames come out a winner go right to dinner sleep wake up repeat (spoiled slandering moving masterpiece) I’m here at last mother(the final step) what could I be for the soiled money everything buy everything and stick it in forget about those getting stuffed and thrown i am my own&more; walk past the homeless who knows anyways upon all upon you this is burning watchthecars watch the cars watch....the...cars.. quickly swiftly they move fast and i am happiness does this make you happy the world we live in struck down by lightening and thunder ****** **** ****** theft all of the rage and anger’s been kept unto this moment untothisdream i am in control of my own dreams my own mind money money watch it burn burn it all laugh repeat if i were God’s foot i would smash it all no man two hundred feet tall feel like it lie to yourself sleep wake up repeat if i if i if i could i would burn it all today the education of the nation has been flushed away reading a book has been forgotten and instead they read how to take drugs through a can i can i can i can burn it all fathom me into the faintest pyromania-(the world we live in)-a statement of love and blessing faith’s faith in the world has failed i have failed it’s all burning already there’s no way to stop it scream this is all i have left at your feet i must break through this wall two hundred thousand feet tall t h------ ick take a lick screamandcry everyone’s lying and everyone’s crying and everyone’s dying please dear Jesus do something please i can not do this all on my own i am sick call a doctor over there’s the phone no more snow and no more rain lay down all of your strain your stress is at my disposal only a few days left we can watch it burn together (I am burnt) third degree just come and help me let us feel the click between us we are One and I’m no longer afraid of the world we live in perhaps but you are my hope lovelovelovelovehopeloveyes (when i think of you i know exactly in the end where we will go) i am a flower hold me embrace me let me know that I am loved too
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95
The Devil makes you go hungry and he fills you with greed. The Devil whispers in your ears until they both bleed. The Devil is the one that makes you want to throttle your bird, you can find the Devil at the bottom of a bottle I've heard. The Devil is to blame, for your pain and your loss, he fills you with rage, and the Devil is your boss, when you work like a slave for minimum wage. The Devil fills your glasses and he empty's your cup, That dark lord will make you commit benifit fraud, and he is the one, who grasses you up. The Devil makes you stray, with no regard, for what your doing to anothers life, and while your away, the Devil's in your house giving it hard, to your wife. The Devil makes you bold and he does fill you with fear, the Devil turnes the young old and can turn a strait man queer. The Devil took your daughter, and turned her into a wrinkled old hag. Round our way, a piece of the Devil is bought for, ten pound a bag. The Devil never stays at home and never will he rest. The Devil is the one who gives you a loan, and charges double interest. The Devil is the one who the police pursue he is the one that they do chase, unless the one on the run happens to be you, then dressed in blue, the Devil you will face. The Devil, when the loneliness can't be taken anymore, he comes and disconnects your phone. Need time on your own, then the Devils banging on your door and he just wont, leave you alone. The Devil resides, in your ex's eyes, he made them say those words that were not true. And the Devil's already got his claws into the next one, to tell you lies and get thier filthy paws on you. The Devil makes you repeat what you've heard, he makes your lips looser, and next time someone's slandering you, maybe its because they've had a word, with Lucifer. Yea the Devil is everwhere but there is a way to get him of your case, and tell him you'll see him later. Grab that Devil by the horns, look him in the face, and tell him you belong, to the creator.
0
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC
The Devil
The Devil makes you go hungry and he fills you with greed. The Devil whispers in your ears until they both bleed. The Devil is the one that makes you want to throttle your bird, you can find the Devil at the bottom of a bottle I've heard. The Devil is to blame, for your pain and your loss, he fills you with rage, and the Devil is your boss, when you work like a slave for minimum wage. The Devil fills your glasses and he empty's your cup, That dark lord will make you commit benifit fraud, and he is the one, who grasses you up. The Devil makes you stray, with no regard, for what your doing to anothers life, and while your away, the Devil's in your house giving it hard, to your wife. The Devil makes you bold and he does fill you with fear, the Devil turnes the young old and can turn a strait man queer. The Devil took your daughter, and turned her into a wrinkled old hag. Round our way, a piece of the Devil is bought for, ten pound a bag. The Devil never stays at home and never will he rest. The Devil is the one who gives you a loan, and charges double interest. The Devil is the one who the police pursue he is the one that they do chase, unless the one on the run happens to be you, then dressed in blue, the Devil you will face. The Devil, when the loneliness can't be taken anymore, he comes and disconnects your phone. Need time on your own, then the Devils banging on your door and he just wont, leave you alone. The Devil resides, in your ex's eyes, he made them say those words that were not true. And the Devil's already got his claws into the next one, to tell you lies and get thier filthy paws on you. The Devil makes you repeat what you've heard, he makes your lips looser, and next time someone's slandering you, maybe its because they've had a word, with Lucifer. Yea the Devil is everwhere but there is a way to get him of your case, and tell him you'll see him later. Grab that Devil by the horns, look him in the face, and tell him you belong, to the creator.
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82
Sometimes you are the gasoline to an already burnt building Sometimes you are the anger of a child who broke his own toy And sometimes you are a fist of rage, Yelling at the television A puff of smoke You are the post apocalyptic chaos of a rip tide too far gone to break See, racism is not the shark but it's the ocean All teeth and no mouth, No jaw and no muscle Just the white rattle of hate The sharp grip of an untrained dog People talk about racism like ancestral land and confederate flags, Knowing that you own these things, And we don't  As if we don't own this history too, This system Like we're tredding water How many skin heads do you think were in the room when we signed off on immigration laws, race legislations, public school curriculums? Or pushed policies like mandatory minimum sentencing, benine neglect, broken windows, stop and frisk, the race war? Remember, The eye of the hurricane is the least harmful part of the storm You, The eye of the chat room, All poker face and no cards So which individual Donald Trump bigot boogie man are we supposed to be mad at? When do we stop pointing out the bad apples long enough to acknowledge the orchid was planted on a mass grave? When do we stop slandering race and start slandering unsolicited rage? Sharks **** about one person each year Thousands drown But of course this isn't really a poem for white supremacist I don't know any white supremacist But I do know the people in my neighbourhood, And my family And I know how white supremacy is upheld Whether it is through action or inaction How it isn't just the broken act of justice, But the justice itself How a white kid with a black face on Halloween and his friend who knew it was wrong but didn't say anything - start to blur together Because let's be honest, Some racists aren't even racist at all So they say nothing They're a silent chorus, A dull underwater humming waiting to overflow But when the songs of our cities break, Will we choose to hear it? Or will we keep looking for the shark, Keep tredding water, Not knowing that we're drowning?
0
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 6:01 AM UTC
Explaining Racism to A White Supremacist
Sometimes you are the gasoline to an already burnt building Sometimes you are the anger of a child who broke his own toy And sometimes you are a fist of rage, Yelling at the television A puff of smoke You are the post apocalyptic chaos of a rip tide too far gone to break See, racism is not the shark but it's the ocean All teeth and no mouth, No jaw and no muscle Just the white rattle of hate The sharp grip of an untrained dog People talk about racism like ancestral land and confederate flags, Knowing that you own these things, And we don't  As if we don't own this history too, This system Like we're tredding water How many skin heads do you think were in the room when we signed off on immigration laws, race legislations, public school curriculums? Or pushed policies like mandatory minimum sentencing, benine neglect, broken windows, stop and frisk, the race war? Remember, The eye of the hurricane is the least harmful part of the storm You, The eye of the chat room, All poker face and no cards So which individual Donald Trump bigot boogie man are we supposed to be mad at? When do we stop pointing out the bad apples long enough to acknowledge the orchid was planted on a mass grave? When do we stop slandering race and start slandering unsolicited rage? Sharks **** about one person each year Thousands drown But of course this isn't really a poem for white supremacist I don't know any white supremacist But I do know the people in my neighbourhood, And my family And I know how white supremacy is upheld Whether it is through action or inaction How it isn't just the broken act of justice, But the justice itself How a white kid with a black face on Halloween and his friend who knew it was wrong but didn't say anything - start to blur together Because let's be honest, Some racists aren't even racist at all So they say nothing They're a silent chorus, A dull underwater humming waiting to overflow But when the songs of our cities break, Will we choose to hear it? Or will we keep looking for the shark, Keep tredding water, Not knowing that we're drowning?
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54
No room for a honest living cuz an Honest man tries, broke the honest man dies, while the living are rich with lies... hidden agenda... in this slandering propaganda... You can make it by... filling your heads with lies... And while you think your living honest they just watchin you die... never feeling your cries... They just say they lived like you but they aint never lived your lives... So they send out one, send out two, place them side by-by side... Choose this guy hes just like you, see look him in the eyes... but he aint never lived your lives... all he hears is cries... and the honest man dies... and rich live on with lies!!!!
0
Jan 25, 2012
Jan 25, 2012 at 8:46 AM UTC
Honest Man
Does anyone need slurs, from slandering neighbors? Should it bother anyone, that people seek after God? Would it be better, to have vile people influencing those, with whom you have interaction on a regular or daily basis? What benefit can there be, when individuals choose to callously break their oaths? Are they friend-worthy? Ideas of no absolute truth are destructive forces, meant to ruin our relationship with the one, true God. Can anyone really be hurt by unyielding Truth, when it uncovers the lies that people are living? . . . Author notes Inspired by: Psa 15 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
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Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 12:37 PM UTC
Poem: Hurt by Unyielding Truth?
Why do you keep on flirting with darkness, slandering the light with something that could never light your way?
0
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 11:15 PM UTC
Untitled
He forced me to wear a mask. I obliged, of course I did, For, he gave me no choice. Uncomfortable, I removed it. Phat! He slapped me, Scared, I put it back on. Unbearable, I tried again. Phat! He slapped me, Frightened, I put it back on. I hated the mask more and more, Yet, wore it making my heart a stone. I removed the mask more and more, But, that was only when I was alone. And one day, I told myself, "Freedom, that's what you love." On that day, I told him, "Society, You and I are done." Now, he goes around slandering me. I don't care, I honestly don't, Because, this freedom is worth dying for!
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Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 12:30 AM UTC
The mask
I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you You make my blood boil You make my fists clench My eyes squint into a scowl when I see your smug smile lips curled teeth bared slandering my name Go on ahead! I know I am not to blame for all the late nights of confusion and all the moments of obsessive intrusion You twist the story say I'm no better Leaving on my doorstep a grammatically incorrect letter Ah, nothing makes my skin crawl more than the improper use of "you're" "your a liar" "you never take responsibility for you're actions" God, I don't know where I ever found attraction! You can condemn me all day to hell but at least I know how to ******* spell! You say that I make you absolutely sick doesn't mean much coming from a wannabe preppy pretense of a ***** Delete my number from your phone Get a life and leave me alone Stop penciling paragraphs full of mean and spite saying you don't know how I sleep at night Well, the joke's on you I don't actually sleep And I don't miss your stupid Jeep I literally have my own. Again, put down your phone and pick up a book because being a ********* isn't exactly a fallback career You got that? Have I made it clear? You can go assassinate my character to your nonexistent group I'll just be ranting to my poet friends on an online website everyone can see.... oops
0
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 11:59 PM UTC
Goodbye, good riddance
**** that **** was multicultural as **** Officer of whiteness to my father “whose that?” while pointing at me “My son.” Thats when they began profiling watching Handcuffing itching to use their guns gossiping slandering putting me in danger that thing whiteness dismisses as paranoia that is a new driving force that was once called sexuality
0
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 2:32 PM UTC
Poetry Police
Excuse for a minute I'm just having a bit of confusion   You see, my entire identity is giving me some delusion I don't who I am or where I'm going They say it's normal; the experience of growing Since when was psyche slandering of innocent so beautiful? I didn't know one descicion could be so meaningful Which dream do I chase? At this age begins the race To run to my future But I face so much pressure Im not sure which life will be missed The city or the campus? Neither can I resist I am an athlete I am musician I am a student Sorry Dad, but I'm also not the most prudent Which world holds a life that is brighter? All that matters now is that I am a writer
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Apr 8, 2012
Apr 8, 2012 at 9:22 PM UTC
Where?
You've hurt me greatly Though your desperate needs, You yearned for affection Detesting the weight of your words leading my heart on the run False propositions of a title Lies slandering our names Associated with whats fake Clearly it was all give and no take I was always just a ***maybe Always unsure*** To you I was never a certain Dare not define the word love More the need to fill the void With a heart that seemed to care Take it carefully within your hands Though without warning you begin to tear Piece. by. piece. The parts begin to fall Blood dripping from within your palms Before discarding it on the floor Staining you with a rich crimson red As you vanish off into the night I dare not gaze upon your face again Knowing the truth I would rather not fight Settling the pain within me Thats conjured up a storm Swallow my pride and my despair I'll let it go and move on Though never again will I feel The same gentle patient care For dear sir, you have hurt me greatly And on the second time round I refuse to fight fair. *Not a single tear will fall for you again I shall not waste myself on you* -
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Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 8:53 AM UTC
Pains of the discarded hearts
the hole in your filter let's you speak freely; ambiguously slandering, cursing, and hurting every person you know. the hole in our friendship isn't going to get smaller; it widens as you speak more and more of the disgust and anguish i had to go through. the hole in your guitar is a sure place for my foot; its destiny's been written again, and broken, it shall ring the tunes i'd tried to get you into before it all fell through all the holes in our friendshit
0
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 1:14 PM UTC
hole
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Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 7:25 AM UTC
It was a cry for release rvclassified.com
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2
. The path of least resistance keeps me writing toward the madness, and slandering all the poets still dredging ancient sadness. When we stroke the simple minds of the massive multitude, we'll slay the lonely dragons of fear and solitude. Let's save the poetry before our thoughts just go black blind.. Don't let that 'ol intruder steal the darkness from your mind. (Steal the darkness from your mind...) As the four winds dry the ink out of your soul, you just stand there crystal clear. Where sparks, arcs and butterflies start flying. I hear an old lady cry, perfecting the art of dying. Open your eyes, here's your last chance. Perfect your art or take your stance. I will take you away because the stage ain't the play... Let me take you away, because the stage ain't the play. Let's run away, because the stage ain't the play. .
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Feb 18, 2010
Feb 18, 2010 at 4:04 PM UTC
~The Stage Ain't the Play