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"solvency" poems
on the other-side of a grave wall there may rightly be a water-vessel that is chicken-hearted by birth there may not be around her a stretching of water-body do remember when we all went that day to catch the train the room of the rail-station was totally vanished after enquiry it was revealed that it had gone to observe holidays with its family in the yolk of the eggs of the snipe before opening the no-door to take a leap i also knew that the top-branch of a green and large grasshopper was mainly made up of white-stones i did not also have any mystic words given by the moon to recite silently so without caring for the water i made a all-complete ocean with sands and cement throughout the year solvency gets down from the body of the traffic signal even-then the monsoon this year has been under the poverty-line and the ray of hope is that it is this circuitous route leading to the top of the himalaya that would one day play the tune of differential calculus on her guitar
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Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 6:58 AM UTC
differential calculus
I used to live in a country That was based on liberty And where just anybody Could achieve prosperity That with assured equality And working diligently One could expect definitely To succeed economically If you saved all the money Left over from your salary To save to bring your family A step closer to solvency. Not an impossible proposition, It was based on the condition Of a grand national institution Which promised that stabilization By taxing us and corporations With an equitable correlation Between folks of humble station And the larger organizations Working in happy syncopation. A welcome feeling of elation Would descend upon our nation And keep us from stagnation Or going into nationwide deflation, Or just as scary, a huge inflation. Now I look upon our history And see decades of misery Laid upon us by calumny By those meant to fortify And build up our security. The constant forces of calamity If we accept less than probity From those who have no honesty Choosing leaders based on beauty A national cult of personality Then permit political chicanery By people with no dignity Only a greedy criminality That pretends to propriety And a devout base of spirituality When what we have is actually A kangaroo court of dishonesty Without a care for the citizenry.
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May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 9:18 AM UTC
DISINTEGRATION NATION
The highs and lows of living life Occur in sweeping loops The ups and downs of everything Are determined by the groups Of numbers as they glide Across a digital display, In  rendering the parabolas Of this game of life we play. The winning runs of business A sweet windfall of cash Temptation to extend that deal Beyond …is perhaps rash; It may just tip the balance Commence the start of the decline And your parabolic plunge Will see you quailing to divine. How you claw your way to solvency You sweat to make it right, How you battle tax malignancy To surmount official might. The administrative penchants Of administrative types Who insist on crossing every “T” And switching “OUT” the lights. Having made it, you sit astride the top And bask in shining light. You cast off the cloak of caution, Claim success as yours by right. But by morning there’s a thunderstorm A headache and a snag, By lunch evicted on the street With your belongings in a bag. The ups and downs of life my friend Are a parabolic coast One day you’re sitting pretty The next day you are toast. The only consolation Of this constant change of state Is the reconstructive challenge In re-determining your fate. So gird yourself my beauty Hitch your belt another notch And launch yourself at living Before you seek that midnight watch. For tomorrow is a mystery The possibilities are vast And paradoxically speaking The very best is usually last. Marshalg Mangere Bridge 20th July 2008
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May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 4:55 PM UTC
Parabolas
The movement of speech, speaking swiftly with eloquence alliterative, quixic, elloqution, enunciation, pitch, tone, intensity, sensivity, proper, and evident, prosody, and brilliant speaker, followed by a brilliant speech, we all would love to listen to a great idea. Or write down the secrets to success, to pay bills and not get hit on by voodoo. I heard them lye, lie, and then lie. Lye like ***** hands needing soap. Lie like there are no stars ever in the sky. Lie like in bed with a ghost, and then a ******* mindful of racists with a passing grade for the bar exam treated the 3 above outstanding resources to the trinity to tell us to work with an Oath. The availability to be independant is a solvency to a cross examination, and the property of freedom is a handsome reward if you can pry open the jar of Trinity. We wanted a badass to be the President and I know, that we just might get what we ask for. Remember to study your own favorite poets a dedication to a life in the fast lane of the most Amazing manner of all time. We may just be the newest monastery in the world. So when we all say something, like all 7 billion of us. We GET it. DO NOT F&%^$^$ TOUCH ME, EVER! Lol.
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Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 1:23 AM UTC
Talent
in the last night of solvency we gather the last of the moccasins are gone all the indians here are punjabi they are the nicest, finest people in the poor dark night of new poverty all talk of justice is gone the school houses are useless imprisonments no taliban are here just some drugged up people gettin beatin by the police come the corporate billionaires are talkin listen if you'd be considered loyal to the new world's god
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Jul 9, 2010
Jul 9, 2010 at 2:12 PM UTC
hello poets!
You forget your sentiment you sightless dependant being for no greatness was destined for us ****** sential beings but the soft pitter pat of that broken frostbittten rose sprung lose it was a soughtless cause that caused a civil war beneath the mask and above the throat suffocating the rose with its own thoughts a call for a critique on what it meant to be to have a legacy for truly such artistry couldn't have come from uncontrolled unstable state a warring mind was that of a sickness the root of an illness springing forth an adornment of a lion of god but the left alignment of her soul left the rose further in a frostbitten cold a desolate black rose struggling for a solace some simple solvency to a forsaken dream or reality though the lines are clearly unclear the blinding lights of an unstable state these **** warring state are quite alarming the things causing are only fit for us fickle beings the hell of a mind constantly cause atrocious crimes against itself this is our war.......a civil war that left a black rose ****** cold a frostbitten rose
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Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
Frostbitten rose
The Narcissist Attention is the oxygen that feeds this phobic mind Abandonment is death to them, they'll not respond in kind Ignore them at your peril, adore, or see their wrath Their self is false and hollow, they’re only worth is death! You’re adoration gives them life, dependent on approval They’ll laugh at you but not themselves, their temperament is cruel He’ll goad and taunt and torture you, he’ll take you to the brink It’s me; I’m mad and paranoid, that’s what he’ll make you think. But if you dare reject them, they try to rip you down They cannot stand to be the **** or lose their bogus crown Their ego is but all they are and you supply the rest They look to you for solvency, will **** you’re dying breath! Get Rid!
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Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 9:42 AM UTC
An **** Assist!
1.2 million tickets each minute @ 2 bones a pop a nation in crisis gambles for ½ a billion while claiming that jihadist extremists are crazy – I bought two spent 4 greenbacks for a shot at financial solvency the ability to help my fellow man family and friends have the dream built with oak and mahogany – seekers freaking out as the jackpot grows no winners no turkey dinners just a mass of humanity desperate –
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Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 4:27 PM UTC
power-ballin'
This lack of inspiration is exhausting because I need to write to feel and right now I am as emotionless as a lampshade yet as emotional as a broken hearted hoodlum this emotional paradox is draining the juice that keeps me running it is content but it is confusing the only solvency to this whirlwind of blankness is unknown enter into calculator no solution this lack of inspiration a mirror can't even show me who or what or how the music that enlivens me no longer strikes me as perfection and it's strange because this darkness isn't dark it's not light but it's fluctuating fluctuating like an unsteady heartbeat and jesus, I hate religion what is this feeling of nothing emotion: blah it's pathetic where are the words that used to save me where is the poem that made me proud of what I had to say all there is right now is ranting and confusion and **** this because I can't seem to articulate whatever it is that I need to say so **** this
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 12:37 AM UTC
unknown feelings paradox
The always-patient man had no longer a capacity to accept, his fists thwacking the gates of hell. He needed in. The icy hinged barrier crushed his knuckles, and the splintering molecules of frozen corpses, which hedged this entrance, fell in fine dust. Their eyes, the only warm flesh within the dead gatekeepers, begged him to back away. It only let him know, he, this man that was once so ever patient, belonged inside. Not wishing to give up, he struck, and struck the cryptic divide screaming, “Devils take me!” You see, at the moment of his death, the gates of heaven opened up to him, and he being the ever most patient man, his soul rushed into the great light of empyrean. Yet when there, he could not see what he had expected, there was no wondrous feeling of euphoria. Nothing was there to give him that high, he had ignored himself so long, upon that dreaded earth, before his sobriety and solvency to God. That always-patient man had expectations of those feelings, which he felt criminal, and denied himself so long. Yet they were not there, in this heaven he imagined. This soul, that for so long had been a patient man, who had so piously paid his debts, had an epiphany. He was feeling gypped. So his soul swooped to hell. Not looking back he heard the gates of heaven slam. After this the man, patient no more begged Beelzebub, from chained and locked realm, “Satan, give me what I deserve! Stick your stake in me. Give me your pleasured poison!” Then God and Lucifer appeared to him and morphed into one being. The whirlwind of good and evil they became said, “Life is strife or happiness, you choose. There is nothing here for you.” Suddenly incarnated again, into newborn gasping first breath, his mind went blank, but with an evolved spirit inhaled. © PJ Poesy 01.09.2014
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Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 11:01 AM UTC
The Always Patient Man
The always-patient man had no longer a capacity to accept, his fists thwacking the gates of hell. He needed in. The icy hinged barrier crushed his knuckles, and the splintering molecules of frozen corpses, which hedged this entrance, fell in fine dust. Their eyes, the only warm flesh within the dead gatekeepers, begged him to back away. It only let him know, he, this man that was once so ever patient, belonged inside. Not wishing to give up, he struck, and struck the cryptic divide screaming, “Devils take me!” You see, at the moment of his death, the gates of heaven opened up to him, and he being the ever most patient man, his soul rushed into the great light of empyrean. Yet when there, he could not see what he had expected, there was no wondrous feeling of euphoria. Nothing was there to give him that high, he had ignored himself so long, upon that dreaded earth, before his sobriety and solvency to God. That always-patient man had expectations of those feelings, which he felt criminal, and denied himself so long. Yet they were not there, in this heaven he imagined. This soul, that for so long had been a patient man, who had so piously paid his debts, had an epiphany. He was feeling gypped. So his soul swooped to hell. Not looking back he heard the gates of heaven slam. After this the man, patient no more begged Beelzebub, from chained and locked realm, “Satan, give me what I deserve! Stick your stake in me. Give me your pleasured poison!” Then God and Lucifer appeared to him and morphed into one being. The whirlwind of good and evil they became said, “Life is strife or happiness, you choose. There is nothing here for you.” Suddenly incarnated again, into newborn gasping first breath, his mind went blank, but with an evolved spirit inhaled. © PJ Poesy 01.09.2014
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3
There’s a lot of primal loss, blood, tears and adversity that went in to ensure your sovereignty They fought rivals with rifles, ‘cause Blood Tears And Uncertainty meant War for your solvency*
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Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 10:33 AM UTC
Sankofa
This lack of inspiration is exhausting because I need to write to feel and right now I am as emotionless as a lampshade yet as emotional as a broken hearted hoodlum this emotional paradox is draining the juice that keeps me running it is content but it is confusing the only solvency to this whirlwind of blankness is unknown enter into calculator no solution this lack of inspiration a mirror can't even show me who or what or how the music that enlivens me no longer strikes me as perfection and it's strange because this darkness isn't dark it's not light but it's fluctuating fluctuating like an unsteady heartbeat and jesus, I hate religion what is this feeling of nothing emotion: blah it's pathetic where are the words that used to save me where is the poem that made me proud of what I had to say all there is right now is ranting and confusion and **** this because I can't seem to articulate whatever it is that I need to say so **** this
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Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 11:04 PM UTC
**** this
finding myself struggling with twenty-seven years the magic number until I can retire seems a thousand lifetimes away and how will I ever stay in one place that long… for near forty years’ worth of days I have floundered between part-time and joblessness… some of it as a ****** some as a young adult trying to find my way… pondering solvency, monetarily I consider my real options: theft leads to jail hard work leads to hard work 401k’s and retirement planning are often stolen by the greed of the 1%-ers bailout for the monopoly kings… where is my bailout for living in America for this long? who has been diligently investing in my trust fund? why is this what ‘making it’ looks like? answerless questions lay piled on the floor some hurriedly jotted on napkins others tattooed on my forehead none ripe or ready… I know I can keep on keeping on I hustled ****** for ten years ….but I want it to be easier I desire to bathe in bling and throw hundreds out the window yelling about how much I don’t give a **** ….but for now, I will just get up to my alarm wash my face and hands and play slave to the machine one more day
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Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 5:50 PM UTC
brass ring out of reach
Outline, having a precise outline Agenda that will be covered The outcome in what is expected A lesson plan that will help students understand Theories and Concepts that will be in demand The question of why with the outcome of philosophy in what will be established Simplicity into simplest terms Yet reality will be in the actual being complex Example, the reason people read a book is to obtain knowledge Intellect being the whole new level Knowledge being the assembly The foundation being the concept Lessons being the pitfalls and overcoming barriers Concepts in knowing how theories work Logic Putting all the components of analyzing Solutions being solvency Knowing what to look for when a problem does arise But the lesson is “Don’t be surprised” That is the reason that there is a lesson plan The lesson plan must be complex in order to test students to use their analytical minds It’s the criteria of curriculum Succeed by knowing and efforts in doing Knowledge being the upward direction Yet a lesson plan must be on target It’s the responsibility of any educator to have subject matter down pack Every word, sentence and thought sharp as a tack Nothing of the lesson should lack: A. UNDERSTAND B. GRASP THE CONCEPTS C. ANALYTICAL D. PROBABLY WITH DEFINED POSSIBILITIES E. PRINCIPLES Lesson plan worked out I hope you have any understanding to what I was talking about End of session, now use what you were taught, but make every given moment your Understanding with having a purpose, and success that will be your own confess.
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Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 4:27 PM UTC
HOW TO PREPARE A LESSON PLAN
Outline, having a precise outline Agenda that will be covered The outcome in what is expected A lesson plan that will help students understand Theories and Concepts that will be in demand The question of why with the outcome of philosophy in what will be established Simplicity into simplest terms Yet reality will be in the actual being complex Example, the reason people read a book is to obtain knowledge Intellect being the whole new level Knowledge being the assembly The foundation being the concept Lessons being the pitfalls and overcoming barriers Concepts in knowing how theories work Logic Putting all the components of analyzing Solutions being solvency Knowing what to look for when a problem does arise But the lesson is “Don’t be surprised” That is the reason that there is a lesson plan The lesson plan must be complex in order to test students to use their analytical minds It’s the criteria of curriculum Succeed by knowing and efforts in doing Knowledge being the upward direction Yet a lesson plan must be on target It’s the responsibility of any educator to have subject matter down pack Every word, sentence and thought sharp as a tack Nothing of the lesson should lack: A. UNDERSTAND B. GRASP THE CONCEPTS C. ANALYTICAL D. PROBABLY WITH DEFINED POSSIBILITIES E. PRINCIPLES Lesson plan worked out I hope you have any understanding to what I was talking about End of session, now use what you were taught, but make every given moment your Understanding with having a purpose, and success that will be your own confess.
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36
Crack. There it goes again, Breaking further and I see no end, A false sense of solvency, a bandaid solution, The ground beneath me dissolving, I'm falling in confusion, Isn't there supposed to be a max to the pain you can feel? I can no longer tell if this is a nightmare or truly real.
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Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 11:59 AM UTC
What is real?
At the ringing of the clock at precise midnight Souls after souls from everywhere began to be lifted up Flesh simply disappeared But it was the midnight hour to preserver There were no moans and no pain It was only the soul that would remain The moon was high and full There seemed to some of pull A new destiny being eternity Death being the finale The Unforsaken attempting to be together in an alley It was quick and swift A new Earth and emotions Death has hit me and I am drifting to a place My soul no man can ever replace My life is a temporary erase This is my day and it’s a spiritual getaway I must move on in the call and can’t stay Death onto me on this day, and into my own eternity where there is solvency.
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Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 2:16 PM UTC
MIDNIGHT DEATH
Lord, my praying hands raised to you A troubled world that is leading to its own understanding Precious Lord, the world needs guidance in how to respect, Judge Not and embrace one another My prayers extend to Washington itself of our Nation’s Leaders of the same accord Solvency is a given right You are the glory that gives light War in destruction needs to end Peace and harmony of revival in begin Yet prophesy is what for told in what was come Image in the mirror, please make a change Race wars of hatred not a world you wanted to be Yet agenda’s is what the world wants to see The world can’t do it alone The world needs a foundation in solid strength But it’s your footsteps in helping the world go the length I need you to be with world every step of the way My praise extends high You have my honor because you are thy My praying hands in a desperation cry Lord, please help the world see light beyond the dark tunnel This I pray Oh Lord in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen!
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Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 9:00 AM UTC
PRAYER FOR AN UNFAITHFUL WORLD
The news of late Seems to amply relate The quandary... ... so many wrestle with In fixated perspicacious denial Of just what happiness means Serenity.... Viability ? Financial security...solvency? While what matters goes unsolved Because we are ...so involved In seeing only the success They express....not the stress They repress for us.. ..the adoring public... Caught up in our thinking That we wish we were them. Perfection in the reflection Of the lucky ones who have it made. So why do so many... ...take themselves out When they could have stayed? I do wonder...where we all would fall Were we to seem to have it all The life that they attain ..that persona they maintain That no one...it seems   can really see beyond It too often doesn't dawn Upon...me To notice the human strain ... ....the common pain, that we see so easily in each other. I never saw it and I am so sorry... And will miss you, Anthony Bourdain. Farewell..Brother. May you rest in peace .
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Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 2:59 AM UTC
The news of late
My cookie crumbles No heart or ice cream Can cure My emotions Melting Pooled around Her thoughts Shattered bits Like rotten teeth Falling out of me Can't put them back in without Blood and sinew Ever straight again, Gnawing dreams Turned flailing hopes That pray for solvency In the midst of storms That rain On all parades Gay or narrow Straight to the core, A nougat of fraught angst...
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Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 1:58 PM UTC
Nougat...