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"sovereignty" poems
The likes of you I can't describe, Yet I love to eat between your thighs. The melody you spake to me Unfolds my greatest sovereignty. I crave to quaff all of your spit, And swallow every drop of it. Don't cheat me of your tasty flesh, Those bare and supple ****** ******* Your eyes that follow my firm gaze, While we kiss and lick and misbehave. I need to feel each piece of skin, Smashing girl and boy parts over and over again. It's such a treat to eat you whole; I'm obsessed with eating 19-year-olds.
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May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
Nineteen
There came a time in the history of Nigeria when she dreamed for independence, There came a moment in the history of Nigeria when she groaned to gain freedom from the British; There came a season in the history of Nigeria when she desired to obtain independence from her rulers. The moment when she groaned for independence, The season when she was ready to groam freedom; The moment when she desired to be independent as a country. The moment when she seeked her elites to stand up and fight for independence, The season when she awaited the voice and appearance of her freedom fighters; The moment whe she believed that independence was ready to answer the call of nature in her country. The moment when she believed to find freedom and independence which as that missing part of her that made her a complete country, The season when she trusted and believed in the treasure called independence; The moment when she hoped and desired to be called an independent and sovereign nation in the history of the world. The moment when she was expectantant of the mother called independence, The season when nothing meant anything to her except for the father called freedom; The moment when she still believe to be an independent country despite foreign exploitations, with the understanding that she could still stand up on her feet as an independent country. She believed that someone who understands her tears and passion for freedom and independence, will arise and fight for her freedom knowing that he will never bear to see her travail in birth for independence. The elites she knew not but believed was out some where fortiing and preparing themselves for independence and fight for freedom. Independence she waited for like an expectand mother of a child, Each step she took was believed to bring her closer to freedom and independence. She believed in freedom and independence for her country and it's occupants, and not colonisation and exploitation from the British colony. She believed in fighting for freedom and independence than dying a coward, She believed in her elites efforts to obtain her independence and sovereignty. She expected her elites to stand up and rage for independence to freedom and sovereignty, which they did when the opportunity and strategy came for them to uphold. She believed that destiny will bring her independence and freedom, when the hour of liberation from exploitation comes. She believed that her pains and heart beat was felt and understood by her elites. The name independence she was passionate about and the fame freedom she was desperate about. The memories of colonisation she groaned to erase and the histories of exploitation she desired to filtrate. The name independence she struggled to uphold and the gain freedom she strived to unfold. Before her moment of independence, she strived to make full proof of her countrie's ambitions, she sort self asset and not self liability. She seeked and desired independence and freedom from exploitaion which she got. Her dignity and hour as a country was restored on that fateful day of October 1, 1960 whe she gained and famed her independence and freedom. She believed in independence and freedom which she got. The death of her elites and freedom fighters was never in vain. This is Nigeria At 53 and she is still a sovereign and independent country.
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Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 4:28 AM UTC
Nigeria At 53
There came a time in the history of Nigeria when she dreamed for independence, There came a moment in the history of Nigeria when she groaned to gain freedom from the British; There came a season in the history of Nigeria when she desired to obtain independence from her rulers. The moment when she groaned for independence, The season when she was ready to groam freedom; The moment when she desired to be independent as a country. The moment when she seeked her elites to stand up and fight for independence, The season when she awaited the voice and appearance of her freedom fighters; The moment whe she believed that independence was ready to answer the call of nature in her country. The moment when she believed to find freedom and independence which as that missing part of her that made her a complete country, The season when she trusted and believed in the treasure called independence; The moment when she hoped and desired to be called an independent and sovereign nation in the history of the world. The moment when she was expectantant of the mother called independence, The season when nothing meant anything to her except for the father called freedom; The moment when she still believe to be an independent country despite foreign exploitations, with the understanding that she could still stand up on her feet as an independent country. She believed that someone who understands her tears and passion for freedom and independence, will arise and fight for her freedom knowing that he will never bear to see her travail in birth for independence. The elites she knew not but believed was out some where fortiing and preparing themselves for independence and fight for freedom. Independence she waited for like an expectand mother of a child, Each step she took was believed to bring her closer to freedom and independence. She believed in freedom and independence for her country and it's occupants, and not colonisation and exploitation from the British colony. She believed in fighting for freedom and independence than dying a coward, She believed in her elites efforts to obtain her independence and sovereignty. She expected her elites to stand up and rage for independence to freedom and sovereignty, which they did when the opportunity and strategy came for them to uphold. She believed that destiny will bring her independence and freedom, when the hour of liberation from exploitation comes. She believed that her pains and heart beat was felt and understood by her elites. The name independence she was passionate about and the fame freedom she was desperate about. The memories of colonisation she groaned to erase and the histories of exploitation she desired to filtrate. The name independence she struggled to uphold and the gain freedom she strived to unfold. Before her moment of independence, she strived to make full proof of her countrie's ambitions, she sort self asset and not self liability. She seeked and desired independence and freedom from exploitaion which she got. Her dignity and hour as a country was restored on that fateful day of October 1, 1960 whe she gained and famed her independence and freedom. She believed in independence and freedom which she got. The death of her elites and freedom fighters was never in vain. This is Nigeria At 53 and she is still a sovereign and independent country.
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41
Every time people start to rise up, a whole buncha problematic mess gets thrown around regarding VIOLENCE. So, what is "violence" really?... It's the use of force. Plain and simple. What makes folks uncomfortable (who are otherwise comfortable in this system) is that UPRISING IS A SOMETIMES VIOLENT (read: forceful) REACTION TO SYSTEMATIC VIOLENCE: Yes, just like the Hunger Games... Thus, there are many types of violence... The fact that we are paying taxes that are funding the genocide and ****** of people of color (here and abroad) is violence. People with guns (former slave patrols and overseers, now cops) who come from outside our community and treat our folks as criminals on the daily is violence. Capitalism, i.e. wage/property/ecology-based exploitation in the name of profit is violence. The fact that LA County spends more $$ than anywhere in the world on prisons and police is violence. The fact that the US locks up more of its own people than any other country on record is violence. US aiding/funding the genocide of Palestinians at the hands of Israel is genocidal violence. From Congress, to the boardrooms, to the classrooms, from the gaze, to the unwanted touching, to the **** to the pay, Patriarchy everyday, is violence. A few people jacking some **** at Walmart or breaking a window is really minimal violence in comparison. A couple people throwing **** at armed cops is not serious violence. The idea of owning property that other must rent to live is violent. Systemic, chronic, global insecurity in the form of material poverty is violence. Wage slavery is violence. Gentrification is violence. The War On Youth, i.e. the School-to-Prison pipeline, and, thus the War-on-Drugs with its attending 76% recidivism rate in the prison-industrial complex, whose populations are disproportionately black males, is violence. The fact that people can't go to the doctor and dentist, or eat food every day is violence. Deportations are violence. Homophobia is violence. The world's largest global military that vaporizes people without due process in dozens of countries violating their biophysical and national sovereignty is violence. The United States government sanctioning the ****** of non-white, but especially Muslim bodies across the world... is violence. So, when you condemn violence, do you mean resistance? Because there is a whole lot of violence you should be condemning instead. Adapted from Emilio Lacques-Zapien
0
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 11:14 AM UTC
The fire this time
Every time people start to rise up, a whole buncha problematic mess gets thrown around regarding VIOLENCE. So, what is "violence" really?... It's the use of force. Plain and simple. What makes folks uncomfortable (who are otherwise comfortable in this system) is that UPRISING IS A SOMETIMES VIOLENT (read: forceful) REACTION TO SYSTEMATIC VIOLENCE: Yes, just like the Hunger Games... Thus, there are many types of violence... The fact that we are paying taxes that are funding the genocide and ****** of people of color (here and abroad) is violence. People with guns (former slave patrols and overseers, now cops) who come from outside our community and treat our folks as criminals on the daily is violence. Capitalism, i.e. wage/property/ecology-based exploitation in the name of profit is violence. The fact that LA County spends more $$ than anywhere in the world on prisons and police is violence. The fact that the US locks up more of its own people than any other country on record is violence. US aiding/funding the genocide of Palestinians at the hands of Israel is genocidal violence. From Congress, to the boardrooms, to the classrooms, from the gaze, to the unwanted touching, to the **** to the pay, Patriarchy everyday, is violence. A few people jacking some **** at Walmart or breaking a window is really minimal violence in comparison. A couple people throwing **** at armed cops is not serious violence. The idea of owning property that other must rent to live is violent. Systemic, chronic, global insecurity in the form of material poverty is violence. Wage slavery is violence. Gentrification is violence. The War On Youth, i.e. the School-to-Prison pipeline, and, thus the War-on-Drugs with its attending 76% recidivism rate in the prison-industrial complex, whose populations are disproportionately black males, is violence. The fact that people can't go to the doctor and dentist, or eat food every day is violence. Deportations are violence. Homophobia is violence. The world's largest global military that vaporizes people without due process in dozens of countries violating their biophysical and national sovereignty is violence. The United States government sanctioning the ****** of non-white, but especially Muslim bodies across the world... is violence. So, when you condemn violence, do you mean resistance? Because there is a whole lot of violence you should be condemning instead. Adapted from Emilio Lacques-Zapien
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26
Derartu, Haile, Tirunesh Kenenisa, Meseret, and all With a similar footfall! Displaying a superb Long-distance athletic feat When many superstars Awe inspiringly you beat And as a result of it When your sought-for Fought-for And nation- prayed-for Dream proves a hit And also with kudos A stadium full of people opt You to greet And when spectators Accord you a high five It is for your country's  flag You  immediately dive! Also on the podium while Ethiopia's row-wise Green,Yellow and Red Emblazoned flag, Shoulder high, Soars above You express Your  umbilical cord-tight National love With tears that Trickle down each of Your cheek,quick. Is it because Reminiscent of Each living hero With a life sacrifice That brought colonial Aggression to zero? Is it because The bounty of the land You grew up Seeing first hand? Is it because The cherished corner You cut in the heart of The poor but prideful Ethiopian neighbour? Is it because The unity in diversity That showcases Ethiopia's identity Or citizens hospitality? Is it because At heart strings a tug Or ,among others Gratefulness to Your iron-strong lung When you hear Ethiopian anthem sung? Is it because a secret another Deep down you harbour? Is it because the Fertility Hope and Sovereignty ideals The flag advance, Also Ethiopia's being A beacon of independence What is more The nation's renaissance Which in a curtain of mist Before your eyes dance?
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Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
An overriding national feeling
Upward I swirl into the swirl of death shrills Discontented about absolutism; the lies of war Discontented about the perversions against nature; man's egomaniacal tendencies Upward I spiral into the swirl of darkness Gravity has no power to keep me bound within myself I let loose once again I float towards another endless spiral of dark clouds, these clouds spin expeditiously within its air-vortex I see carnage, I smell blood, I witness the land of all misanthropes Into the blackness as I spin, my vision catches a chorale begging to be autonomous in the state of sovereignty The impetus in my desperate and saddened heart I curse the gods My tightened fist fails at at the darker darkness, at this ominous swirling I see no light ahead likened to the event horizon on the outer rim of a black hole My breath is being ****** out as the greed-succubus ***** out life I see you in me, as we both are caught in this uninvited storm Will we ever survive? Will we ever survive? So we must fight on!
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Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
Into the stormy Vortex
"My daughter, when you grow up (enough) to be able to brandish self-sovereignty tempered by self-discipline I only hope that if and when you may choose to try whatever drugs may appeal to you you are least fortunate enough to have access to clean ones and a safe enough and comfortable enough environment in which to study your interrelationship with them, intellectually, physiologically, psychologically, spiritually, and socially, but not necessarily in that order. I won't tell you what to do, but my advice is this: Don't eat yellow snow: don't snort yellow coke. If you're gonna poison yourself, poison yourself with the good **** If you want to see whats up with something, be certain your sample size is representative. That's just good Science. No one likes a false statistic except those in power who wish to remain in power so maintain thy power to wield thy freedom of choice armed with an arsenal of personal experiences sailing with an armada of accurate information upon the high seas of this uncertain but certainly beautiful Life, but be prepared to accept the consequences. That's just responsibility. That alone oughtta put you well ahead of the curve."
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Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 3:30 PM UTC
Self-Sovereignty
The pierced ego sees through an opaque lens; a vestige of hope, humor and   intellectual solidarity. Effigies of forgotten ethos, the culmination of a fated dream; unrequited ardor, abandons identity to an irreducible fervor,                       subtext of tension,                     enduring ****** privation; etude of a paramour ending torture, tasting mystical polarity. The wounded heart once intruded, bleeds effusive; the ornament of humility. Flattened collateral damage, primal search, proves illusive; portals of hurt, slivers of pride, assembled fragments of thereness absorb the loss of my English muse. Poetry and devotion punctuated murmurs of piety,   depth perception virtue unfound; expectation - access to suffering;   disinterested love present,   desultory carnage of rescission,    absurdity personified; euphemism of adieu, the sound of no sound. The discarded image finds no favor, the salt lost it's savor unquenched thirst; desire of diminished purview, the saporus stream deferred; vision eclipsed; saturated self hidden in the text. Poverty asks the question, absence summons ethereal substance merged into the immanent frame; integrating, in solitude signifying, mediating - logos contested the humiliation of the word. Lyrical enigma, where did I go? provisional personality scorned, renouncing nostrums of the prosaic, surrenders to the the realm interior sovereignty assumed in provenience, native horizon of the next. ©2008 & 2011 W.S. Warner
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Sep 3, 2011
Sep 3, 2011 at 6:11 PM UTC
The Humiliation of the Word
The pierced ego sees through an opaque lens; a vestige of hope, humor and   intellectual solidarity. Effigies of forgotten ethos, the culmination of a fated dream; unrequited ardor, abandons identity to an irreducible fervor,                       subtext of tension,                     enduring ****** privation; etude of a paramour ending torture, tasting mystical polarity. The wounded heart once intruded, bleeds effusive; the ornament of humility. Flattened collateral damage, primal search, proves illusive; portals of hurt, slivers of pride, assembled fragments of thereness absorb the loss of my English muse. Poetry and devotion punctuated murmurs of piety,   depth perception virtue unfound; expectation - access to suffering;   disinterested love present,   desultory carnage of rescission,    absurdity personified; euphemism of adieu, the sound of no sound. The discarded image finds no favor, the salt lost it's savor unquenched thirst; desire of diminished purview, the saporus stream deferred; vision eclipsed; saturated self hidden in the text. Poverty asks the question, absence summons ethereal substance merged into the immanent frame; integrating, in solitude signifying, mediating - logos contested the humiliation of the word. Lyrical enigma, where did I go? provisional personality scorned, renouncing nostrums of the prosaic, surrenders to the the realm interior sovereignty assumed in provenience, native horizon of the next. ©2008 & 2011 W.S. Warner
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83
I will not die for you Woman fey of flesh and home, I linger but to see you unfrock The holy, set rogues to roam. Why should I thus be consumed In breath like coldest fire? Shape of rising waterfalls That state, I surely do not desire The downy ******* the runny skin, Spark of cheek, notes of hair in shower, The gliding step, the gusty tone, Fools have died for much less a dower. The lancing pools, the hemlock mien, The highland sheen, the dawn-bird voice, The Safire eye, over step of pyramid Merlin gave Arthur a safer choice. I will not drown for you, Flood of hair, red as the lye In parted Jordan, that sea, not me, Shall pine as ever, slowly dying. Your healing humors, your subtle sovereignty, Your blood, noble as seven-seas are blue, Little mirror who paints the sky, Though nearly, I will not die for you.
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Jun 24, 2012
Jun 24, 2012 at 10:28 AM UTC
I Will Not Die For You
~ i am a preamble, seeking to evolve ~ ~ my every emotion, thought and deed, cascades, consequence ~ ~ your every touch forever impacts, in cascading consequence ~ ~ we are all sacred, equal in our worth, may we each, behave so ~ ~ paradoxically ~ ~ our security is rooted in our acceptance, of insecurity ~ ~ our cyclical attractions, and repulsions ~ ~ are the forces which bind us ~ ~ while i don’t understand all the motivations ~ ~ or all the machinations ~ ~ of the forces applied, to divide, conquer and control ~ ~ i deem they are parasitic, and thus ~ ~ reliant upon our cooperation, to survive ~ ~ when i haven’t worked myself out in perfect coherence ~ ~ i’m in no position to pass judgments upon any other ~ ~ in absence of fraud, deception or manipulation ~ ~ embracing sovereignty and free will ~ ~ i vow ~ ~ to wage peace, cooperation, creativity and love ~ ~ to seize opportunity to nurture ~ ~ our garden planet ~ ~ as a humbled gardener ~ ~ there is no spoon ~ ~ it was only an illusion ~ ~ there are no sheep ~ ~ just tactics to divide, and distract ~ ~ we are only ~ ~ children and parents ~ ~ friends and lovers ~ ~ sisters and brothers ~ ~ cosmic conscious explorers ~ ~ shaping our reality ~ ~ nurturing OUR Garden ~ ~ namaste ~
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Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 2:15 PM UTC
~ declaration, of interdependence ~
There's a horse who is primed for battle. She's been broken and saddled, muscles hard and keen, her frame is lean, she's got all the necessary means to carry destruction into the heart of the fray. But. She's afraid. She dreads the day. There's a child who is primed in playground. She's been beaten and shoved down, she's been left to bleed, the teachers are too late to intervene. And she waits for the day for them all to pay. But she's afraid. How couldn't she be? There's a leader who is primed in sovereignty. She's been brought up high society with a sharpened gleam, smart and mean, quietly she gathers steam. With the tools to rule, she waits for the day to carry the horse to heart of the fray, to make them pay, to make them all pay. But she knows the game, knows how to wait. And still the world will twirl in its hate. Until it needs a leader who's great. She'll rise like the cream to the top of the pack, and pick up the slack, and possess what they lack. And finally grasp the ultimate power! To rule. To instruct. To provide the anchor for the ones who were broken and beaten, afraid. And she'll heal their wounds, for she knows their pain.
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Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 2:58 AM UTC
The People's Champion Wins the Fight
Children of the Moon! Abandon your worn shoes And frolic freely, barefoot In Her midnight light; Let down your lovely locks And bare your ashen skin To allow Her celestial lips Kiss your collar bones; Let Her blanket of shadows Drape over your shoulders, While She crowns you with A headdress of night diamonds.
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Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 6:08 PM UTC
Sovereignty of the Somber
Juvenile Government. Black-skinned Politics. Lavish desires for power, establish conflicts, Contrive one's graveyard for authorities, And inculcate defalcation at the zenith. Deciphering the truth from ocean of lies, Sovereignty of benevolent people has drowned; Flooded miseries. Benighted reality. Withered accountability. Absurd transparency.
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Jan 26, 2012
Jan 26, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
***** in the Society
“When we hand down This flag to posterity Paying prices of life To the country's Age-old sovereignty It is with a word of caution 'This generation Should accord due attention To handing down To the coming generation A new Ethiopia To fruits of development A cornucopia!' ” “Yes, grandpa Working day and night We shall take Ethiopia To a new developmental height! Once Ethiopia was great How could we that forget? The country's renaissance Firm we shall advance! For common growth Resources we Shall harness, Allowing the region Soar with wings of success!”// I am happy to announce the birth of my poetic drama In the Vortex of Passion's Wind By United P.C-publication without risk and quickly (Austria) ISBN 978-3-7103-2109-2 Release date09092015 GBP14,90 About the book Shock treatments that attend the wrong turns of life reshape people's mindset anew and nudge them out of their slumbers. On the other hand, as forewarned is forearmed, the sagacious learn from the lapse of the trigger-happy than indulge in the vortex of passion's wind. Miss not this page turner and cliffhanger mainly dealing with HIV/AIDS in a campus of a country worst hit by the pandemic. Please buy and read the book.You could also get your collection of poems published by www.unitedP.c-publishquickly and without a risk
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Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
Soaring With Wings of Success
born underwater a ****** to the birth of creation complacent verses bathing in lakes wasted her patience ocean poems emotive prose the notions grow breast strokes sowed in silly string civilized sovereignty divinity’s reliance divided by Earth’s dire needs fires breathe regardless of the rain she breeds seeds beneath the sand hold no reason to lie in wake so we speak in foreign tongues with dominance a mistake to take her language for another world visions died with imminence and grandiosity a coliseum’s misconstruction catalyzed combustion’s coldest counterculture living within the wind sinning stings it’s singularity glaring stares impaired all sages of their clarity careful conscious turned rotten swimming in the toxins glossy water robs apostles of oxygen filtered riddles fiddled this conviction’s symmetry & now the god’s live in ignorance and misery crimson skies abysmal cries they’re looking at the ground astounded to the loud doubts that overpower clouds powdered optometry devoured flowers of their solitude another rotten petal for every sentiment left misunderstood confused prisoners gifted with the write to think proles sentenced to wonder why the caged bird sings a paradox of broken thoughts to question it’s intentions matter undermined the undefined enlightenment spirals in the light comprise a present tense evanescent destination sensei keep I humble so many stripes up in my wavelengths widowed endorphins scrape the pain away balanced chemically an efficacy of electricity many marvel but the master’s prophecy is destiny
0
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 4:13 PM UTC
white skies
born underwater a ****** to the birth of creation complacent verses bathing in lakes wasted her patience ocean poems emotive prose the notions grow breast strokes sowed in silly string civilized sovereignty divinity’s reliance divided by Earth’s dire needs fires breathe regardless of the rain she breeds seeds beneath the sand hold no reason to lie in wake so we speak in foreign tongues with dominance a mistake to take her language for another world visions died with imminence and grandiosity a coliseum’s misconstruction catalyzed combustion’s coldest counterculture living within the wind sinning stings it’s singularity glaring stares impaired all sages of their clarity careful conscious turned rotten swimming in the toxins glossy water robs apostles of oxygen filtered riddles fiddled this conviction’s symmetry & now the god’s live in ignorance and misery crimson skies abysmal cries they’re looking at the ground astounded to the loud doubts that overpower clouds powdered optometry devoured flowers of their solitude another rotten petal for every sentiment left misunderstood confused prisoners gifted with the write to think proles sentenced to wonder why the caged bird sings a paradox of broken thoughts to question it’s intentions matter undermined the undefined enlightenment spirals in the light comprise a present tense evanescent destination sensei keep I humble so many stripes up in my wavelengths widowed endorphins scrape the pain away balanced chemically an efficacy of electricity many marvel but the master’s prophecy is destiny
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31
I. In youth I have known one with whom the Earth In secret communing held—as he with it, In daylight, and in beauty, from his birth: Whose fervid, flickering torch of life was lit From the sun and stars, whence he had drawn forth A passionate light such for his spirit was fit— And yet that spirit knew—not in the hour Of its own fervor—what had o’er it power. II. Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought To a ferver by the moonbeam that hangs o’er, But I will half believe that wild light fraught With more of sovereignty than ancient lore Hath ever told—or is it of a thought The unembodied essence, and no more That with a quickening spell doth o’er us pass As dew of the night-time, o’er the summer grass? III. Doth o’er us pass, when, as th’ expanding eye To the loved object—so the tear to the lid Will start, which lately slept in apathy? And yet it need not be—(that object) hid From us in life—but common—which doth lie Each hour before us—but then only bid With a strange sound, as of a harp-string broken T’ awake us—’Tis a symbol and a token— IV. Of what in other worlds shall be—and given In beauty by our God, to those alone Who otherwise would fall from life and Heaven Drawn by their heart’s passion, and that tone, That high tone of the spirit which hath striven Though not with Faith—with godliness—whose throne With desperate energy ‘t hath beaten down; Wearing its own deep feeling as a crown.
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2.9k
In Youth I Have Known One
Where's the man whose love is big enough To catch a waterfall? Whose rain slicker is sturdy enough to let things roll Who isn't afraid to stare down a stream Or look a storm right in the eye? This man doesn't run; The water-bearer-- On his shoulders he lifts the weight of love. Do you know how many times I've seen A man turn and run away from me Instead of rushing to the sea? He trickles away from feeling; He dries up. No, the man I'm speaking of Is more than an oasis in a desert of difficulty; He is a full-on river Gaining speed As he rolls down the mountainside Carving canyons as he goes Defeating the foes That try to make us hide from our emotions --In fact, this man feels oceans And never turns back On his decisions Doesn't reconsider the love he's given or what he lacks Because when he lacks, he makes more. This is the secret of persistence That keeps the sea kissing the shore Because at times the tide gets pulled back by the force of the moon But this man keeps sovereignty over the moment, knowing that soon He will come crashing back onto her shore And she will be waiting. Yes, the earth would wait Solid as a rock for his return- Her faith unshakable, Though she is moved by his caresses. She remains ever the same, But she is molded, changed By his loving form. Made even more beautiful By his presence. Where is a man like this? I've yet to find One with such ardent purpose of mind As to sweep his lady love Off her feet, in a great flood Of kisses and hugs and promises fulfilled The man who has an immutable will And an unalterable course Who dissolves the rock And inscribes his love into the very earth Not just by strength or force, but perseverance And resolve for all he's worth.
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Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
Aquarius
Where's the man whose love is big enough To catch a waterfall? Whose rain slicker is sturdy enough to let things roll Who isn't afraid to stare down a stream Or look a storm right in the eye? This man doesn't run; The water-bearer-- On his shoulders he lifts the weight of love. Do you know how many times I've seen A man turn and run away from me Instead of rushing to the sea? He trickles away from feeling; He dries up. No, the man I'm speaking of Is more than an oasis in a desert of difficulty; He is a full-on river Gaining speed As he rolls down the mountainside Carving canyons as he goes Defeating the foes That try to make us hide from our emotions --In fact, this man feels oceans And never turns back On his decisions Doesn't reconsider the love he's given or what he lacks Because when he lacks, he makes more. This is the secret of persistence That keeps the sea kissing the shore Because at times the tide gets pulled back by the force of the moon But this man keeps sovereignty over the moment, knowing that soon He will come crashing back onto her shore And she will be waiting. Yes, the earth would wait Solid as a rock for his return- Her faith unshakable, Though she is moved by his caresses. She remains ever the same, But she is molded, changed By his loving form. Made even more beautiful By his presence. Where is a man like this? I've yet to find One with such ardent purpose of mind As to sweep his lady love Off her feet, in a great flood Of kisses and hugs and promises fulfilled The man who has an immutable will And an unalterable course Who dissolves the rock And inscribes his love into the very earth Not just by strength or force, but perseverance And resolve for all he's worth.
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58
I sought satisfaction in stupid sheepishly and shallow strides. Scared subconsciously, I swallow and sustain substance for pseudo self esteem strengthening. I seemed of in service to slumber and stinging sadness, shots sank like ships, submerging into the sea of my swarthy stomach in seconds. I somewhat sympathies as a sailor, sweating, struggling and swimming in slipping sobriety saturated in my sulking style. Scanning swarms of serial swindlers, striking sculptures stances of self-doubt. I stammer in a storm of slurs, ******* down my safety, stopping myself at the stoop of the saloon I see a seductive silhouette staging the space. She stroke my sight, standing sanguine in scarlet, soul sold in high heels. The smoothest sculptures in seven square miles were subjugated into scree and I was ****** in submission. Stubborn staggering suitors, stand shaking silently as she is stopped by sharks stalking and snarling sycophantics. So straightforward in suggesting their secret starvation to strip sensations, seem by seem, like a sub-par **** cinema scene. They step and speak short. She smokes off, stranding the scree in smoldering slaughter. Its sad this soul-less sanctuary soaking up sorrows. So self inflicting, and so satisfyingly side splitting. She sported her spurned, scorned off into sadistic solitude and stained sticky stigma, sobbing to sleep. So spent from simple stocked, stored and supported senescence of ceremonial subjection of ****** status. I savior my sincerity, and stretched out of this strange stadium of stooges. So long scarlet sanguine I sang softly, as she stole my sight suspiciously in sync with hers. Sacrificial seconds split from smearing stolidity to sharing a smile. That's simple satisfaction, so I seen scripted in sitcoms and shows. Supporting sapiens in stasis to see sappy stunners on screen, to stare snoopy, as stabs and slashes strike socially into socialites of so called sanity and sovereignty. To sweetly pay salvage as slaves of soppy studio slander. Such is this sorry Saturday night, I am solidified in sedation.
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Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
Saturday night (Alliteration in S)
I sought satisfaction in stupid sheepishly and shallow strides. Scared subconsciously, I swallow and sustain substance for pseudo self esteem strengthening. I seemed of in service to slumber and stinging sadness, shots sank like ships, submerging into the sea of my swarthy stomach in seconds. I somewhat sympathies as a sailor, sweating, struggling and swimming in slipping sobriety saturated in my sulking style. Scanning swarms of serial swindlers, striking sculptures stances of self-doubt. I stammer in a storm of slurs, ******* down my safety, stopping myself at the stoop of the saloon I see a seductive silhouette staging the space. She stroke my sight, standing sanguine in scarlet, soul sold in high heels. The smoothest sculptures in seven square miles were subjugated into scree and I was ****** in submission. Stubborn staggering suitors, stand shaking silently as she is stopped by sharks stalking and snarling sycophantics. So straightforward in suggesting their secret starvation to strip sensations, seem by seem, like a sub-par **** cinema scene. They step and speak short. She smokes off, stranding the scree in smoldering slaughter. Its sad this soul-less sanctuary soaking up sorrows. So self inflicting, and so satisfyingly side splitting. She sported her spurned, scorned off into sadistic solitude and stained sticky stigma, sobbing to sleep. So spent from simple stocked, stored and supported senescence of ceremonial subjection of ****** status. I savior my sincerity, and stretched out of this strange stadium of stooges. So long scarlet sanguine I sang softly, as she stole my sight suspiciously in sync with hers. Sacrificial seconds split from smearing stolidity to sharing a smile. That's simple satisfaction, so I seen scripted in sitcoms and shows. Supporting sapiens in stasis to see sappy stunners on screen, to stare snoopy, as stabs and slashes strike socially into socialites of so called sanity and sovereignty. To sweetly pay salvage as slaves of soppy studio slander. Such is this sorry Saturday night, I am solidified in sedation.
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With Body pretzled up, skins converged to form branches of rivers, mouth slack and frozen to a permanent scowl of delirium and manners-gone, as many swears dripped from those dry, cracked lips. One of my mothers – gumshoed from the alley’s way of family. “Get gumption, girlie, because everybody is full of **** I remember that lullaby, “A tiny turned-up nose, two lips just like a rose. She sits upon my knee, she means to the world to me.” I spy the scar on my pinky finger from her cigarette. Could the King be witness in the Room? Were those buttons of hollow wood over her eyelids? Wrung of cries – we didn’t see that coming, though we heard the flies. And Age’s stumbling rattle through the hallway. Do you know who I am? Do you remember me? Should the window washer come another day? This stubborn sovereignty over what is reality – the root beneath the porch, the fog on the windshield. Loosen the grip on this natural plane, Please -- Woman of my Childhood, harvester of my manners. Stand until the grown-ups sit. Look away and bow your neck. This was called the boxing match between Industry verses Inferiority. Not child through birth – no – but life spawned by those strung-high fists. There’s finality in this phone-call. I heard it happened an hour ago. Treading grievances and grimaces, picking through a flowerbed only to stroke the weeds. Lifting boxes of Lead from reality to the Bridge of Dreams. Frankly, I stole the gumption from your knotted mouth and still cannot cry. In a splinter of reason – I cast out the fundamental jibes of sacred hope. That promise held between dog and owner during business hours. Except there can be no homecoming. The sickest liquor on the alleyway fence.
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May 31, 2012
May 31, 2012 at 7:08 PM UTC
The Evergreen Woman and my Namesake
With Body pretzled up, skins converged to form branches of rivers, mouth slack and frozen to a permanent scowl of delirium and manners-gone, as many swears dripped from those dry, cracked lips. One of my mothers – gumshoed from the alley’s way of family. “Get gumption, girlie, because everybody is full of **** I remember that lullaby, “A tiny turned-up nose, two lips just like a rose. She sits upon my knee, she means to the world to me.” I spy the scar on my pinky finger from her cigarette. Could the King be witness in the Room? Were those buttons of hollow wood over her eyelids? Wrung of cries – we didn’t see that coming, though we heard the flies. And Age’s stumbling rattle through the hallway. Do you know who I am? Do you remember me? Should the window washer come another day? This stubborn sovereignty over what is reality – the root beneath the porch, the fog on the windshield. Loosen the grip on this natural plane, Please -- Woman of my Childhood, harvester of my manners. Stand until the grown-ups sit. Look away and bow your neck. This was called the boxing match between Industry verses Inferiority. Not child through birth – no – but life spawned by those strung-high fists. There’s finality in this phone-call. I heard it happened an hour ago. Treading grievances and grimaces, picking through a flowerbed only to stroke the weeds. Lifting boxes of Lead from reality to the Bridge of Dreams. Frankly, I stole the gumption from your knotted mouth and still cannot cry. In a splinter of reason – I cast out the fundamental jibes of sacred hope. That promise held between dog and owner during business hours. Except there can be no homecoming. The sickest liquor on the alleyway fence.
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She stands tall and slender like poetry Her eyes hard as steel  Her face a mask of sovereignty  She's seen it all in her industry  Outwardly she appears calm Don't be fooled by her charms  Her mannerisms are her keeping Don't overstep your line.  She's fought a hard battle  Laid claim to the highest throne She's driven out the competition  But now she stands alone At what cost comes success The sacrifice of sanctity  The loss of integrity  A woman fighting in a man's world Play by the rules or risk your dignity The fall from grace will be so steep One she'd rather not see coming So she dances while she can Her ballerinas grace has u enchanted  When the time for the show is over When the curtains r drawn and the lights are dimmer She takes off her mask and weep miserably  She has only loneliness To keep her company
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Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
A career woman's company
I see myself in light and shadow. I wipe away “always and never” like spilled water, when the paradox bothers me. I dissolved my soft boundaries, in the name of unreal faith. So many places, so many faces, yet another beginning. I keep rolling a big stone beside others. The home I dreamt of now exists in my world. I have found this time, this place describing what cannot be translated: a room for uncertainty, farewells and returns. I like to stand in the last row, to see tired bodies. I whisper good words, to make the world a little better. My sovereignty is a willingness to be an echo, the symbol, the myth, or a meaningless element in the chain of woven stories. I love metaphors. I find myself in a forest of ellipses, that bring unbearable truths. Tensions, contradictions, awareness that everything that lights brings unseen weight. I am a part of stories, to vanish into oblivion— the done past. The Earth still breathes with me, or without me, among blooming linden trees. So, I want to stay, to open my eyes, and be with what remains.
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Jul 1, 2025
Jul 1, 2025 at 2:16 PM UTC
GNOSIS
red                                                 blue reptiles                                          reptiles white russian                               ****** mary           puritan pride                               puritan pride           freemason                                     freemason where the good, old days at?   where the odd. good days at? conspiracy                                   conspiracy deep fake                                      deep fake trump has a wooden leg           biden has a wooden leg aliens                                           aliens wars                                              wars china                                            china abortion                                     abortion manifest destiny                         manifest destiny lobbyists                                     lobbyists fox                                                 nbc sovereign citizen version hey! get the hell out of america! your title makes no sense if you're a citizen of the world, then move to that world who do you think you are? God or something? (as it appears on https://www.merriam-webster(no lie) Save Word To save this word, you'll need to log in. Log In sov·​er·​eign | \ ˈsä-v(ə-)rən , -vərn also ˈsə- \ variants: or less commonly sovran Definition of sovereign (Entry 1 of 2) 1a : one possessing or held to possess supreme political power or sovereignty b : one that exercises supreme authority within a limited sphere c : an acknowledged leader : arbiter 2 : any of various gold coins of the United Kingdom sovereign adjective sov·​er·​eign | \ ˈsä-v(ə-)rən , -vərn also ˈsə- \ variants: or less commonly sovran Definition of sovereign (Entry 2 of 2) 1a : superlative in quality b : of the most exalted kind : supreme sovereign virtue c : having generalized curative powers a sovereign remedy d : of an unqualified nature : unmitigated sovereign contempt e : having undisputed ascendancy : paramount 2a : possessed of supreme power a sovereign ruler b : unlimited in extent : absolute c : enjoying autonomy : independent sovereign states 3 : relating to, characteristic of, or befitting a supreme ruler : royal a sovereign right
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Nov 2, 2021
Nov 2, 2021 at 12:08 AM UTC
My Fellow Americans aka All Americans (blue and red versions(in black and white) with sovereign citizen version(for man and god)) - with merriam-webster save a word game aka Save a Word for ME
red                                                 blue reptiles                                          reptiles white russian                               ****** mary           puritan pride                               puritan pride           freemason                                     freemason where the good, old days at?   where the odd. good days at? conspiracy                                   conspiracy deep fake                                      deep fake trump has a wooden leg           biden has a wooden leg aliens                                           aliens wars                                              wars china                                            china abortion                                     abortion manifest destiny                         manifest destiny lobbyists                                     lobbyists fox                                                 nbc sovereign citizen version hey! get the hell out of america! your title makes no sense if you're a citizen of the world, then move to that world who do you think you are? God or something? (as it appears on https://www.merriam-webster(no lie) Save Word To save this word, you'll need to log in. Log In sov·​er·​eign | \ ˈsä-v(ə-)rən , -vərn also ˈsə- \ variants: or less commonly sovran Definition of sovereign (Entry 1 of 2) 1a : one possessing or held to possess supreme political power or sovereignty b : one that exercises supreme authority within a limited sphere c : an acknowledged leader : arbiter 2 : any of various gold coins of the United Kingdom sovereign adjective sov·​er·​eign | \ ˈsä-v(ə-)rən , -vərn also ˈsə- \ variants: or less commonly sovran Definition of sovereign (Entry 2 of 2) 1a : superlative in quality b : of the most exalted kind : supreme sovereign virtue c : having generalized curative powers a sovereign remedy d : of an unqualified nature : unmitigated sovereign contempt e : having undisputed ascendancy : paramount 2a : possessed of supreme power a sovereign ruler b : unlimited in extent : absolute c : enjoying autonomy : independent sovereign states 3 : relating to, characteristic of, or befitting a supreme ruler : royal a sovereign right
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Vacant. Empty. Twisted. Lacking. Chills shoot though my body filling the cracks whatever is left Let go of the Meaning of LIFE and one is lost Worried. Angered. Freaked. Spinning. Words jotted down upon an empty page to show giving proof to rage Reality is no kind reminder in correction of humanness Stupidity. Irony. Pathetic. Foolish. These eyes have absorbed from the outside world all which is meaningless Vibrant life left behind to retrieve if one is wise Hope. Love. Joy. Peace. Never take the God-given gifts taken for granted or hard ways shall teach Throw them aside as ******* and despair will find what's left Trash. Pathetic. Waste. Shameful. Such trash is how I perceive some to view my vehemency No integrity do they see in what these eyes hold scared Purity. Integrity. Honesty. Valiancy. Which spring from the soul and mind diluted from ones first breath in the flesh Access to God diluted from what cannot be achieved Sovereignty. Omniscience. Omnipresent. Agape. Witness madness for what God has been met first hand is just in righteousness Full of grace and mercy to those who Seek Him Loving. Wise. Holy. Eternal. To those Who serve Him He gives of Himself correcting those He loves Comfort is naught promised for character is His measure   Sanctification. Tried. True. Loyalty. Purifying His people through teaching His ways is the foremost goal As choice gold refined and proved accordingly
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Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 10:24 PM UTC
The Rant
"The global bull market has continued its seemingly relentless advance, unchanged by geopolitical concerns…….." • The Israeli-Hamas conflict now blazing in Gaza, Palestine, two military forces locked in a deadly struggle to the end, killing and maiming thousands of ordinary citizens. • Malaysia Airlines flight 17 blasted out of a clear blue Ukraine sky by the Bus surface to air missile              unleashed by the Pro-Russian Separatists killing 298 unsuspecting, innocent, international travellers.              Culpability denied by all. • Anwar Al Awlaki, the American born Cleric, directing clandestine terror attacks and assassination by Al Qaeda beyond the Middle east into Asia and Europe. • Deposed President, Mohammed Morsi’s Muslim Brotherhood, responsible for terrorist activities including multiple car bombings throughout Egypt. • President Bashar Assad of the Alawite minority, an offshoot of Syria’s Shiite religion, waging religious genocide against his own nations people              and now in open conflict with the Muslim uprising Sunni forces of the new Isis Caliphate. • The beheadings, slaughter and terror unleashed by the Sunni, Isis Caliphate uprising rampaging through Iraq. • Russia’s sudden invasion and forceful annexation of the Crimea. • Russia’s brutal pressure on the sovereignty of the Ukraine through its clandestine weaponry supply and sponsorship of the Pro-Russian Separatist Forces occupying the nations East. The Middle East is now…an Apocalypse. This epoch of cruel waste Where man kills man For God and gold, For power’s lust. Where the Sword of Calamity Wields destruction and death On those who can least afford it By they who should never impose it. **In the face of all this …..an unbelievable prioritization with this headline quote from today’s NZ Herald…. “There are financial risks to be endlessly jumping at shadows…to overreact to market noise!"** UNBELIEVABLE!!!! M. Auckland, NEW ZEALAND 31 July 2014
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
Perspectives of Priority
"The global bull market has continued its seemingly relentless advance, unchanged by geopolitical concerns…….." • The Israeli-Hamas conflict now blazing in Gaza, Palestine, two military forces locked in a deadly struggle to the end, killing and maiming thousands of ordinary citizens. • Malaysia Airlines flight 17 blasted out of a clear blue Ukraine sky by the Bus surface to air missile              unleashed by the Pro-Russian Separatists killing 298 unsuspecting, innocent, international travellers.              Culpability denied by all. • Anwar Al Awlaki, the American born Cleric, directing clandestine terror attacks and assassination by Al Qaeda beyond the Middle east into Asia and Europe. • Deposed President, Mohammed Morsi’s Muslim Brotherhood, responsible for terrorist activities including multiple car bombings throughout Egypt. • President Bashar Assad of the Alawite minority, an offshoot of Syria’s Shiite religion, waging religious genocide against his own nations people              and now in open conflict with the Muslim uprising Sunni forces of the new Isis Caliphate. • The beheadings, slaughter and terror unleashed by the Sunni, Isis Caliphate uprising rampaging through Iraq. • Russia’s sudden invasion and forceful annexation of the Crimea. • Russia’s brutal pressure on the sovereignty of the Ukraine through its clandestine weaponry supply and sponsorship of the Pro-Russian Separatist Forces occupying the nations East. The Middle East is now…an Apocalypse. This epoch of cruel waste Where man kills man For God and gold, For power’s lust. Where the Sword of Calamity Wields destruction and death On those who can least afford it By they who should never impose it. **In the face of all this …..an unbelievable prioritization with this headline quote from today’s NZ Herald…. “There are financial risks to be endlessly jumping at shadows…to overreact to market noise!"** UNBELIEVABLE!!!! M. Auckland, NEW ZEALAND 31 July 2014
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