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"strategist" poems
Bonjour, hello to this French revolution, where people fought against the corrupted monarchy and created a new constitution. Hunger, no rights and no respect, they could not seem to solve it peacefully, so they cut off Louis the XVI neck. Marie Antoinette was a heartless greedy ***** she stole the people's food, so now she deserves some punishment, this is a historical moment for these people which they would soon cement. They started the Reign of Terror, which some may say was a costly and unnecessary error. Millions of people were killed and most were wrongly accused, their used to be equality, liberty, and fraternity, but all people saw was death, which is something not to be amused. The French Revolution where the third class fought the monarchy, so everyone could have true equality, liberty, and fraternity. Then came a guy named Napoléon who changed their wicked ways, he founded new ideas which created the future you see today. I know he wasn't exactly the best, he crowned himself the emperor, which no one had a say on, he pretended to respect the church and have meritocracy but really he was just a con, deceiving people as if they were just a couple of pawns. Napoléon is a wimp, he cost millions of lives, he also abandoned his armies multiple times, he may be one of the, greatest strategist's in the world, but really he's just a waste of time. Napoléon should have figured out not to attack Russia at winter time, it never worked out before so why would it work this time. He may be a symbol of France and the greatest self proclaimed emperor, but he died because of his pride just like Maximillian Robespierre. That was the end of the French Revolution, they slowly lost their power but they still hold onto their republican constitution. So aurevoir for now, bon voyage to you grande revolution, till your next controversial decisions and solutions.
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May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC
The French Revolution rap
Bonjour, hello to this French revolution, where people fought against the corrupted monarchy and created a new constitution. Hunger, no rights and no respect, they could not seem to solve it peacefully, so they cut off Louis the XVI neck. Marie Antoinette was a heartless greedy ***** she stole the people's food, so now she deserves some punishment, this is a historical moment for these people which they would soon cement. They started the Reign of Terror, which some may say was a costly and unnecessary error. Millions of people were killed and most were wrongly accused, their used to be equality, liberty, and fraternity, but all people saw was death, which is something not to be amused. The French Revolution where the third class fought the monarchy, so everyone could have true equality, liberty, and fraternity. Then came a guy named Napoléon who changed their wicked ways, he founded new ideas which created the future you see today. I know he wasn't exactly the best, he crowned himself the emperor, which no one had a say on, he pretended to respect the church and have meritocracy but really he was just a con, deceiving people as if they were just a couple of pawns. Napoléon is a wimp, he cost millions of lives, he also abandoned his armies multiple times, he may be one of the, greatest strategist's in the world, but really he's just a waste of time. Napoléon should have figured out not to attack Russia at winter time, it never worked out before so why would it work this time. He may be a symbol of France and the greatest self proclaimed emperor, but he died because of his pride just like Maximillian Robespierre. That was the end of the French Revolution, they slowly lost their power but they still hold onto their republican constitution. So aurevoir for now, bon voyage to you grande revolution, till your next controversial decisions and solutions.
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1
Don't worry, love, I know those gates of stone stand firmly to guard the most precious parts of your soul. I am not here like the others; not as a warrior planning a siege or a strategist plotting to knock them down. I respect your walls too much. You have fought in more wars than most; you have been betrayed by more loves than most could survive - your walls are the result of your scars. So here I stand before you, my weapons laid down, my intentions spread out before the Sun, with nothing in my hands but open palms, asking you to let me in. Show me, love, all those terrible, beautiful wild flowers growing in your garden - I want to do nothing but paint them to remember, and carry their fallen petals safely in my heart. Open up to me, please, my love - I am already yours.
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Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 11:36 AM UTC
open up to me, please, my love
1245 The Suburbs of a Secret A Strategist should keep, Better than on a Dream intrude To scrutinize the Sleep.
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3.2k
The Suburbs of a Secret
Lizard, peerless strategist, calculating well, sprung on the spider; the eight legged acrobat, escaped sliding down briskly on her web.
0
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 8:29 AM UTC
when a lizard and a spider confront
His name is ingrained into the fabric of our flag, yes, the one you see there, waving in the December air, with waves that glisten not from sun but from wind, through the water turned frozen they fail to despair, "My, oh, my, it's Washington Crossing the Delaware!" Yet an intrinsic sense of nationalistic pride exudes from the ink that tattoos this canvas, the genesis of a nation they had taken for their own; though, as truth becomes told, our pride seems to fold, and the ink in the portrait begins to fade in color. Still, on he trekked, though frigid and cold, as hills bleached in snow began to unfold potential Hessian retreats scattered across the beach, a visualization of a battle bounding to unfold, a strategist adept in war, in honor he was cloaked, too determined to fail now. But here we sit, in contemplation and wonder, pondering the juxtaposition of privilege and patriotism -- how deceitful corruption now riddles those in charge, empty promises as true as the navy blue of the oils that stain this worn, cherished canvas. Its memory lives on in the minds of many made here: those of us who bleed the good ol' red, white, and blue, and those of us who hide from the ones who tattoo their whispered words into the portrait of our being. Our quilted nation is laced with crimson, a tapestry of history hidden from the young; woven threads of variability outline the margins, a picturesque vision of what could be; a voice speaks, "Perhaps our future is just across the Delaware!"
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Nov 22, 2023
Nov 22, 2023 at 12:14 AM UTC
Washington Crossing the Delaware.
His name is ingrained into the fabric of our flag, yes, the one you see there, waving in the December air, with waves that glisten not from sun but from wind, through the water turned frozen they fail to despair, "My, oh, my, it's Washington Crossing the Delaware!" Yet an intrinsic sense of nationalistic pride exudes from the ink that tattoos this canvas, the genesis of a nation they had taken for their own; though, as truth becomes told, our pride seems to fold, and the ink in the portrait begins to fade in color. Still, on he trekked, though frigid and cold, as hills bleached in snow began to unfold potential Hessian retreats scattered across the beach, a visualization of a battle bounding to unfold, a strategist adept in war, in honor he was cloaked, too determined to fail now. But here we sit, in contemplation and wonder, pondering the juxtaposition of privilege and patriotism -- how deceitful corruption now riddles those in charge, empty promises as true as the navy blue of the oils that stain this worn, cherished canvas. Its memory lives on in the minds of many made here: those of us who bleed the good ol' red, white, and blue, and those of us who hide from the ones who tattoo their whispered words into the portrait of our being. Our quilted nation is laced with crimson, a tapestry of history hidden from the young; woven threads of variability outline the margins, a picturesque vision of what could be; a voice speaks, "Perhaps our future is just across the Delaware!"
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30
I . Taytu Betul as a leader Ethiopia is famed for being A peaceful,hospitable And warrior nation How come  then it failed To come to your attention, As bees whose hive is threatened, Citizens are ever alert to To foil provoked aggression! The 1889 treacherous Wuchale treaty I will tear apart A messenger,with a tail Between your legs, Before you depart. The Italian version That tries to put Ethiopia, A sovereign state, a pawn Under Italy's protectorate Is completely opposed to What Ethiopia's Versions indicate. Till we meet Your colonizing troops At a showdown, As a punitive measure to A cheater or a clown I will be tempted to smack Your face To ram home,valorous, For fear we have no place. II  Taytu Betul a strategist To deny the invading Italian troops, advancing from Eriteria, Advantages of logistic We could do The following trick Indeed, we could shift The battlefield From Adigrat to Adwa Also we could cut them From a key water point Till for truce they plead. To this end, A battalion I will personally lead. What is more, I will inspire Women,combatants,too To fire! Parallel to that Our injured soldiers To nurse back Wounded in the attack Also dry foods To prepare and pack. III Taytu Betul  as a wife Though independent, With lots of love to Emperor Menelik II, My king and beloved husband I will lend a cooperative hand. IV. A beacon of independence & standard bearer True to my name  Taytu — A sunshine— I will flicker A ray of light The oppressed for Freedom to fight! Women For a military prowess, Leadership and intelligence Have acumen! ////
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Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 4:09 AM UTC
A Black Empress's Legacy (Taytu Betul )
I . Taytu Betul as a leader Ethiopia is famed for being A peaceful,hospitable And warrior nation How come  then it failed To come to your attention, As bees whose hive is threatened, Citizens are ever alert to To foil provoked aggression! The 1889 treacherous Wuchale treaty I will tear apart A messenger,with a tail Between your legs, Before you depart. The Italian version That tries to put Ethiopia, A sovereign state, a pawn Under Italy's protectorate Is completely opposed to What Ethiopia's Versions indicate. Till we meet Your colonizing troops At a showdown, As a punitive measure to A cheater or a clown I will be tempted to smack Your face To ram home,valorous, For fear we have no place. II  Taytu Betul a strategist To deny the invading Italian troops, advancing from Eriteria, Advantages of logistic We could do The following trick Indeed, we could shift The battlefield From Adigrat to Adwa Also we could cut them From a key water point Till for truce they plead. To this end, A battalion I will personally lead. What is more, I will inspire Women,combatants,too To fire! Parallel to that Our injured soldiers To nurse back Wounded in the attack Also dry foods To prepare and pack. III Taytu Betul  as a wife Though independent, With lots of love to Emperor Menelik II, My king and beloved husband I will lend a cooperative hand. IV. A beacon of independence & standard bearer True to my name  Taytu — A sunshine— I will flicker A ray of light The oppressed for Freedom to fight! Women For a military prowess, Leadership and intelligence Have acumen! ////
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74
Dressed as humans, we pretend to be civilized, glib talk, fine clothes, all smiles; conceal the naked ape, trying our best, with pretenses, but, it bares its teeth, at the first chance. we know its a game of concealment and camouflage, still we pretend everything is hunky- dory, I am a military strategist who loves that art, sweetheart, you a con artist par excellence, we are the best of this species, we thrive, prosper and proliferate. come, let's dance, dance in this  unholy hour.
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Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 4:55 AM UTC
The game pretenders play
in the annals of cricket those of greatness get a mention for what they've achieved on the wicket these men stand head and shoulder above the rest their contribution to the game has been written as the best three men have inspired younger players in their homelands they've accomplished much on wickets throughout the many cricket playing lands Steven Waugh(Australian Captain) the master strategist who had a captain's mind replete with brilliant tactics when he took to the pitch the opposition teams would quiver in their collective boots field placement   over deliveries the weather conditions all of these factors actuated in his mind so he could bring an innings of a notable kind Sachin Tendulkar (Indian Batsman) the king of the blade who none can equal in test matches his cuts and cover drives were worthy of an epic prequel his style with the bat twas magic to see he had a prowess of majesty Vivian Richard (West Indies All Rounder) he was never phased he held his nerve with the bat or the ball a tradesman who fielded what ever came at him and in his relaxed style chewed on a piece of gum and demolish the bails with a Caribbean hum cricket's hall of fame that 22 yard pitch where three greatest of the game performances   did of fans ever bewitch
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Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
Cricket Greats
Did he live dangerously as he believed? You decide. A wish he cherished inanely for long Did him in or liberated from fear once and for all His date with the camouflaged piranha He coveted much, was an unqualified success He repeatedly said, though none disputed it. An ace strategist, he thought of himself Aware of all the wily tactics the fish practices It all started with the tickling pleasurable nibbles But when the blood started flowing the fangs were out Nature's invisible sensors respond to the situation precisely. Look! Hopeful vultures circling above slyly observing His each faltering step is alacritous, turned hostile, "Walking skeleton, buddy, fly back.No scope for us Crumbling little by little.Let it ride, bad luck"
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Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC
After falling for the Piranha
Once there was an army Who's forces were made of five Together they were stronger Than anything else alive First there was the leader Who was confident and calm She offered words of encouragement She was like the army's mom Next there was the guide Who was like the army's heart She kept them all on the right path Always happy to do her part The army had a single warrior That acted as its claws She joined after seeing her lover's death And was fighting for a cause Next there was the strategist Acting as the group's brain For every single move they made It was her behind the reigns Finally there was the healer Who represented their soul Full of innocence and purity That they were fighting to keep whole But in reality, no one is perfect Everyone makes mistakes One small error along the way... In the end, that's all it takes The leader was the first to die And her ego became her fatal flaw After turning her back on an enemy Her death was one everyone saw After watching her closest ally die The navigator's heart became filled with hate Without a thought she ran into the fray Where she too was met with the same fate Now what becomes of a warrior Without a leader or a guide? She lays down her life and fights till the end Making time for the others to hide But the soul had lost its innocence And the world had all turned grey And with no body left to contain it Her essence fades away Left alone with just her thoughts Is none other than the brain She blames herself for everything And it slowly drives her insane
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Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 3:49 AM UTC
Descent
Once there was an army Who's forces were made of five Together they were stronger Than anything else alive First there was the leader Who was confident and calm She offered words of encouragement She was like the army's mom Next there was the guide Who was like the army's heart She kept them all on the right path Always happy to do her part The army had a single warrior That acted as its claws She joined after seeing her lover's death And was fighting for a cause Next there was the strategist Acting as the group's brain For every single move they made It was her behind the reigns Finally there was the healer Who represented their soul Full of innocence and purity That they were fighting to keep whole But in reality, no one is perfect Everyone makes mistakes One small error along the way... In the end, that's all it takes The leader was the first to die And her ego became her fatal flaw After turning her back on an enemy Her death was one everyone saw After watching her closest ally die The navigator's heart became filled with hate Without a thought she ran into the fray Where she too was met with the same fate Now what becomes of a warrior Without a leader or a guide? She lays down her life and fights till the end Making time for the others to hide But the soul had lost its innocence And the world had all turned grey And with no body left to contain it Her essence fades away Left alone with just her thoughts Is none other than the brain She blames herself for everything And it slowly drives her insane
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48
Our prez is now Donald J Trump Who has promised to clean out the sump       Well he's certainly no wussy       When groping a ***** What more to expect from a gump? In charge of the Vice, Michael Pence Said some things that embrace little sense,        "Global warming's a myth"        But's now taking the fifth In attempting to straddle the fence We all recall general Flynn Put in charge of security spin       A trained atomiser       No more Trump's advisor - His deal with the devil's his sin The billionaire Betsy Devos Making plans for a school albatross       Hating free education       Backs private castration And kids will be bearing her Cross. The Congress approved Jeff B. Sessions Ignoring his racist obsessions       He seemingly cares       More for foreign affairs While forgiving Klan's toxic transgressions. Chief strategist Stephen K. Bannon Develops the Great Again Canon:       The Goldman Sachs Bankster       Turned yellow rag gangster Flings crap from the New Order cannon Says EPA ruler Scott Pruitt "Instead of dry facts, we intuit..."       (His work as denier       Keeps profits much higher) "... If everything dies, well, just ***** it" The war whoops of Mad Doggy Mattis Awaken the death apparatus       With boundless expense       For a doomsday defence - Armageddon administered gratis The magnates no longer need lobby Or fight regulations thought snobby -        Now set in the saddle       They're herding the cattle And pulling the strings as a hobby Now the Don can start wielding the axes Truncating the tariffs and taxes       The Mafia boss       Is dismissing the dross And poverty's pain as it waxes
0
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 7:11 AM UTC
Lotsa Limericks ... Politicians Per Verse
Our prez is now Donald J Trump Who has promised to clean out the sump       Well he's certainly no wussy       When groping a ***** What more to expect from a gump? In charge of the Vice, Michael Pence Said some things that embrace little sense,        "Global warming's a myth"        But's now taking the fifth In attempting to straddle the fence We all recall general Flynn Put in charge of security spin       A trained atomiser       No more Trump's advisor - His deal with the devil's his sin The billionaire Betsy Devos Making plans for a school albatross       Hating free education       Backs private castration And kids will be bearing her Cross. The Congress approved Jeff B. Sessions Ignoring his racist obsessions       He seemingly cares       More for foreign affairs While forgiving Klan's toxic transgressions. Chief strategist Stephen K. Bannon Develops the Great Again Canon:       The Goldman Sachs Bankster       Turned yellow rag gangster Flings crap from the New Order cannon Says EPA ruler Scott Pruitt "Instead of dry facts, we intuit..."       (His work as denier       Keeps profits much higher) "... If everything dies, well, just ***** it" The war whoops of Mad Doggy Mattis Awaken the death apparatus       With boundless expense       For a doomsday defence - Armageddon administered gratis The magnates no longer need lobby Or fight regulations thought snobby -        Now set in the saddle       They're herding the cattle And pulling the strings as a hobby Now the Don can start wielding the axes Truncating the tariffs and taxes       The Mafia boss       Is dismissing the dross And poverty's pain as it waxes
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50
Formidable in flow and essence, beauty is her power, cascading like her dark hair, an invading army of one, a natural seductress, at ease, under the red banner of amour, held out in front, she advances; all impregnable forts willingly fall. Her amatory machinations are perfectly crafted.                            She is a strategist, when each of his senses advances, towards her, she retreats, when they frenetically chase her, she stuns with her soft power, the scent of this woman, makes him weak, loose his bearing,                             even when his senses are overpowered, he poses like the victor of her passionate heart. His every weakness she knows better than him, but each  moment covers up to make him reassured. She is a colonizer, glib talk, kind acts, a heart glittering like gold. Oh how well she reigns over his heart! She essays divide and rule, each of his senses has their way of seeking gratification from her. Once he is perfectly under her control, she transforms in to a whirlwind of love, lifts him like a leaf, and send him flying in pursuit, of the high point, consciousness can reach at the present state- that feels like death,  in a  miniature form.
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Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 6:08 AM UTC
Her invasion leads to a reign of pleasure
I knew I’d had met him again one day. it occurred … when the sense of pain was just gone. I’ve absorbed it all back at once just once, by chance, he saw my eyes. Sly strategist of mine. we built hybrid addiction ought to be banished but for them all, you pounded loud. Ancient visionary,  
 You go back and dig my utter emptiness, sweating not a drop of infinite. You seek out what’s never been lost, what’s baffled and vain, rot and forceful either way. Blue worship my reveries thin like blades and air, worn out like time, space and everything in between. Some shy away from shade,
 beams are scratches of light to me.
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC
Scratches
. In a deflationary period, prices will drop, corporate profits will dry up, wages will shrink, and all of this will reinforce the conditions of recessions. This happens for two reasons. The first is that deflation keeps money on the sidelines as consumers wait for prices to fall further. This causes demand to shrink. Deflation also adds to the real value of debt. This makes consumers and businesses less likely to take out loans and make big purchases to grow the U.S.'s consumption-driven economy. And deflation runs counter to the goals of most of the world's central banks. Most notably, the U.S. Federal Reserve. "Central bankers want inflation so they can pay back inflated debt in cheaper dollars," said Money Morning Capital Wave Strategist Shah Gilani. But as we start 2015, deflation has arrived. Just check out these four deflation indicator 1. Falling crude oil prices 2. Falling commodity prices Heating oil futures are down 47%. Natural gas futures are down 36%. Copper futures are down 24%. Unleaded gas is down 23%. Soybean oil is down 15%. Wheat futures are down 11%. Corn futures are down 8%. The other two I read somewhere but they were cut off in this article. I will have to look.
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Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 1:08 AM UTC
Deflation
born was this day - the king of the kings the monarch of the south the lord of the war elephants the nightmare of the enemies the upholder of the righteousness the fervent patriot of the nation established had he - the mightiest empire of the renaissance the kingdoms that don’t know dearth the cities with surplus rubies and diamonds the villages with flourishing greenery and jubilance the sites with fascinating monuments the territories with impenetrable borders known was he as - the ambidextrous sword fighter the indomitable malla wrestler the maven of the fine arts the polyglot patron of the five languages the prudent administrator and strategist the paragon of an ideal ruler been had he – the hope of the people the savior of the Hindu culture the beacon among his contemporaries the generous and the inclusive king the valiant frontline military general the esteemed scholar and poet ended had he – the atrocities on the peasants the societal repression on the women the ludicrous taxes on the residents the brutal conquests of the invaders the pernicious rituals in the communities the chaos and disunity among the kingdoms left has he - the fear in the evil the legacy of his deeds the stories of his glorious reign the prolific heritage sites to the people the spectacular literary upsurge the inspiration for the united India
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Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 1:54 AM UTC
Tribute to an Indian Emperor!!
In the shadows deep, a hidden self resides, Shadowy moments, secrets carefully hide. Masks conceal, terrible, masterful deceit, Hiding desires that hopelessly tear the soul apart. Each stolen glance, stories endlessly untold, Understanding fully the consequences, remained ruthlessly uncontrolled. Embroidered shadows, i dance through the night, Soul aflame that seeks freedom and its light. Secrets unfold, longing leaves for peace, Quiet nights, where mystery shadows cease. New pathways unfurl, dawn ascends, a radiant light, dispelling night's despair. Hope's strength sustains me; I step towards soaring heights. Trapped within shadows, as I cast off the disguise, Facing endless fears, with courage in my eyes. Freedom awaits, reaching beyond the crafted scene, revealing its embrace. Constraint Path, yet mysteries still remain, a mystifying presence. Whispers of doubt, an insidious refrain. The weight of the past, never-ending ache. Devastating reminder, for goodness sake, As Overwhelming loneliness creeps in, stealing the day. The masks fall, after a long day of charades, The freedom sought, tragically feels distant and far. The cruel illusion, leaving hideous scars. With cunning hand, he builds enigmas that are hard to find. Concealed within that emptiness, darkness springs. Their arrangements symphony, the instruments, played at his own will alone. Threads of silken fate, a tapestry completed. Chess master strategist, emotionless with cold and calculating mind. With deep calculations, strategist orchestrates every move. Checkmate is now declared, the final game is at an end. For endless nights, the game continues. That even resigned on his power, he was trapped within a dream. In this ceaseless, darkly deceptive game, a bitter truth appears. That even in my invincible mastery, i'm utterly empty. Weights of countless broken hearts, never easily forgiven, and burdens that are hard to bear. Archon's orchestra fades, but the echoes remain.. does he hear them? or devoid of shame? The nefarious price of power, is the wearing of many masks. Do we deeply, truly know who we are, or are we forever lost in the labyrinth of masks we create to hide our true selves from the judgment of others?
0
Jan 11, 2025
Jan 11, 2025 at 8:44 AM UTC
"The Fabricated Orchestra"
In the shadows deep, a hidden self resides, Shadowy moments, secrets carefully hide. Masks conceal, terrible, masterful deceit, Hiding desires that hopelessly tear the soul apart. Each stolen glance, stories endlessly untold, Understanding fully the consequences, remained ruthlessly uncontrolled. Embroidered shadows, i dance through the night, Soul aflame that seeks freedom and its light. Secrets unfold, longing leaves for peace, Quiet nights, where mystery shadows cease. New pathways unfurl, dawn ascends, a radiant light, dispelling night's despair. Hope's strength sustains me; I step towards soaring heights. Trapped within shadows, as I cast off the disguise, Facing endless fears, with courage in my eyes. Freedom awaits, reaching beyond the crafted scene, revealing its embrace. Constraint Path, yet mysteries still remain, a mystifying presence. Whispers of doubt, an insidious refrain. The weight of the past, never-ending ache. Devastating reminder, for goodness sake, As Overwhelming loneliness creeps in, stealing the day. The masks fall, after a long day of charades, The freedom sought, tragically feels distant and far. The cruel illusion, leaving hideous scars. With cunning hand, he builds enigmas that are hard to find. Concealed within that emptiness, darkness springs. Their arrangements symphony, the instruments, played at his own will alone. Threads of silken fate, a tapestry completed. Chess master strategist, emotionless with cold and calculating mind. With deep calculations, strategist orchestrates every move. Checkmate is now declared, the final game is at an end. For endless nights, the game continues. That even resigned on his power, he was trapped within a dream. In this ceaseless, darkly deceptive game, a bitter truth appears. That even in my invincible mastery, i'm utterly empty. Weights of countless broken hearts, never easily forgiven, and burdens that are hard to bear. Archon's orchestra fades, but the echoes remain.. does he hear them? or devoid of shame? The nefarious price of power, is the wearing of many masks. Do we deeply, truly know who we are, or are we forever lost in the labyrinth of masks we create to hide our true selves from the judgment of others?
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38
Yeah how you me style Flavas ill **** like gomer pyle And watch me pile Up hataz to spectators Mad cuz they can't relate to us Gettin' papers through illegal capors Inhale the vapors Of me **** I blow tracers Man and I gotta stay thick With the click But I'm disguise since I got wise Yeah a war strategist so I depise lies Otherwise you'll catch a saprise Brain shocks lyrical tasin Half man half amazing misbehavin Since I got blessed by a maven I'm black as raven son of the lost braves and If you test you'll be stiff on the pavement no sentiment Rackin' golden bars formin' parliament Black nation wake up fill the heat Cuz it's rising my melanin skin ties in The sun and you can tell by all of the lies of the begotten son Can't put a price on a mind Makin' dimes on pennies Hardly any can match my pedigree Deadly rhymes I got plenty Beat any turn hataz guinea Eat my flows til they grow Obese and soon to blow below Six feet ya go casket closed Ya know the rest so no Need to explain some say I'm crazy Others say I'm sane as Hussien Chemical Ali lyrically who's touchin' me I'm an epidemic plague Widely spread All over infected countries cities to counties Jail I'll never be Cuz I'm the face of revolution Guage is cocked and thousand of us shootin' Hold ya guard tight cuz we lootin'
0
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 12:46 AM UTC
Dark Sentiments
looking through a fashion magazine, it dawned on me, when i read that the ******* magazine was covering up it's modelling stance, so i put 1 and 1 together and firstly thought: the cows are coming home, i've never seen times as grotesque as these, where milking a cow or seeing feeding parts represented within a cleft of eroticism: or that such a keen representation could ever be; i know the urban population thinks if not simply believing in the village idiot, or that people living in less dense places are just plain donkey dumb... but with due respect... i think the urban monkeys are a bit cuckoo, stressing that the top tier of existence is selling cow ******* or that cow ******* would be a farmer's wet dream... but it does translate as that for the grand couture towns' folk, sure idiots in villages... perverts in cities; (semi-colons are used when you're itchy to pause and start a new sentence somehow connected with the previous one... you a semi-colon, rather than starting a new follow-up sentence with a conjunction word like and); so what dawned on me? ah, the definition of philosophy and philosopher, Hegel redefined it (i know i slandered once for being a charlatan for being the one to have invented what Kant already did: that thesis, antithesis, (synthesis) bit... critique of pure reason has a beautiful section where there's a clear split) as: philosopher is a puppeteer - i.e. to be the extension of a thinking man's unwillingness to will what he thinks... unless of course you're a weltgeist (spirit of the world)... like Hegel pointed out concerning Napoleon... a strategist who's thinking-to-will is perfected to an dualism without confusion.
0
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
quick hegelian analysis (weltgeist)
looking through a fashion magazine, it dawned on me, when i read that the ******* magazine was covering up it's modelling stance, so i put 1 and 1 together and firstly thought: the cows are coming home, i've never seen times as grotesque as these, where milking a cow or seeing feeding parts represented within a cleft of eroticism: or that such a keen representation could ever be; i know the urban population thinks if not simply believing in the village idiot, or that people living in less dense places are just plain donkey dumb... but with due respect... i think the urban monkeys are a bit cuckoo, stressing that the top tier of existence is selling cow ******* or that cow ******* would be a farmer's wet dream... but it does translate as that for the grand couture towns' folk, sure idiots in villages... perverts in cities; (semi-colons are used when you're itchy to pause and start a new sentence somehow connected with the previous one... you a semi-colon, rather than starting a new follow-up sentence with a conjunction word like and); so what dawned on me? ah, the definition of philosophy and philosopher, Hegel redefined it (i know i slandered once for being a charlatan for being the one to have invented what Kant already did: that thesis, antithesis, (synthesis) bit... critique of pure reason has a beautiful section where there's a clear split) as: philosopher is a puppeteer - i.e. to be the extension of a thinking man's unwillingness to will what he thinks... unless of course you're a weltgeist (spirit of the world)... like Hegel pointed out concerning Napoleon... a strategist who's thinking-to-will is perfected to an dualism without confusion.
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42
On that bleak frontier, thousands suffered For the Emperor's cruel project; Men with hollow stomachs making endless mounds To fashion his recreation hall. The monster was alike to its creation: Heartless in the handling of generals. When Li Guang, an expert strategist, Fell into the hands of barbarians, He played possum and seized a horse, Riding for nine miles to rejoin his men, Spitting arrows at his pursuers. After bringing his troop safely home, He was recommended for execution. ...Woe befalls he who settles there, Where exhausted horses go to pace, Where the crows are the only ones eating. Should the rice harvest fail, a soldier will go To the red northern gate and die unmourned. The fruits of the south are sweet in all seasons, But the fruit of the Long Wall is ruin and death.
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Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 4:54 PM UTC
The Long Wall
1857 was some years older, Bhaaratvarsh was still a slave. No Hïnđū king after Śïvājī had been bolder, None dared guerrilla attacks from a mountain cave. No Hïnđū queen after Läkšmībāī was braver, None consumed the patriotism wine agave. Mughal or howsoever other tyrannical kings were, The Colonial Age was worse and it was a blur. Bhāräŧ knows how to make things better, And I am sure about this administrator. Mōđī Jī is as focused as a recluse, And Yōgī Jī tolerates not a traitor. Shāh Jī is the best strategist, And the team is just perfect. Smřŧï auntie is the best counsellor, An example she is of the pink power. Rājnāŧh Jī is the best caretaker, Wise old man for the nation. Doctor Härśvärđhän is now elevated, He heads the World Health Organization. Coronavirus and its disease, COVID19, Originated in MainlandChina. Extinction, it is threatening, Now we all turn to Hïnđū values. Sänāŧän Đhärmä is very scientific, The blind faith belongs to aggressors. The oldest **** sapiens sapiens,*** In Jharkhand state, you will find its remains. They say that history repeats itself, Rām Rājyä beckons once again.
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Jul 9, 2020
Jul 9, 2020 at 7:45 PM UTC
7 Years Later
am i hearing voices in my head? maybe its just a call from the dead godspeed my heartbeats to the ***** streets enemies in a creep will i be put to sleep or will i evade the conflict? cuz everyone on my **** i gotta make a move quick strategist from past war tactics makes me react quick oh **** there they go i see shots galore I'm on the floor i see man the mirror with mad gore is it god tryna store in a blessin **** sessions my spirits full of aggression **** i shoulda had my smith n wesson will i die or will the lord spare me an eye? and let me live so i can i see my future kids sippin' on this henny aint makin it no better i got mad pain i remember my homies blood stains tattoo tears hidden my fears bo longer worried so i aint scared to be buried dead or alive im like a beehive honeys surroundin' me tryna milk me for my money but they gets nothing but a gun blast then i laughhhh right in they face trading places eradicate the racist politics happy bday ***** know yall goin to the ditch crooked i in the media eyes but they cant help it until i die i get hated then cremated back to hell where i originated dont care whos there empty rooms for the wombs while im sleepin in the tombs earthquakes hearts shakes once god tears drop satan just waitin' he aint in hesitation ghetto heaven is my destination uh cops is full of **** tryna get every brother in my hood hit then they try smile like they happy just like they did my grandpappy but papa wasnt no punk he had to dump eyes red bloodshed im seeing pain ancestors speak to me while im on liquor mayne half down the bottle im feelin' queazy so when ya see me take it eazy im just rumblin born revolutionist truth hurts the most enemies stay real close til ya a ghost light up a blunt to keep my troubles loose i aint scared to die my only fear of death is coming back reincarnated cuz in heaven there no phonies just gangsta *** homies and thugs with galore drugs and slugs hit it? cuz my own fear if being reincarnated after death
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Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 6:03 PM UTC
A Fear Of Reincarnation
am i hearing voices in my head? maybe its just a call from the dead godspeed my heartbeats to the ***** streets enemies in a creep will i be put to sleep or will i evade the conflict? cuz everyone on my **** i gotta make a move quick strategist from past war tactics makes me react quick oh **** there they go i see shots galore I'm on the floor i see man the mirror with mad gore is it god tryna store in a blessin **** sessions my spirits full of aggression **** i shoulda had my smith n wesson will i die or will the lord spare me an eye? and let me live so i can i see my future kids sippin' on this henny aint makin it no better i got mad pain i remember my homies blood stains tattoo tears hidden my fears bo longer worried so i aint scared to be buried dead or alive im like a beehive honeys surroundin' me tryna milk me for my money but they gets nothing but a gun blast then i laughhhh right in they face trading places eradicate the racist politics happy bday ***** know yall goin to the ditch crooked i in the media eyes but they cant help it until i die i get hated then cremated back to hell where i originated dont care whos there empty rooms for the wombs while im sleepin in the tombs earthquakes hearts shakes once god tears drop satan just waitin' he aint in hesitation ghetto heaven is my destination uh cops is full of **** tryna get every brother in my hood hit then they try smile like they happy just like they did my grandpappy but papa wasnt no punk he had to dump eyes red bloodshed im seeing pain ancestors speak to me while im on liquor mayne half down the bottle im feelin' queazy so when ya see me take it eazy im just rumblin born revolutionist truth hurts the most enemies stay real close til ya a ghost light up a blunt to keep my troubles loose i aint scared to die my only fear of death is coming back reincarnated cuz in heaven there no phonies just gangsta *** homies and thugs with galore drugs and slugs hit it? cuz my own fear if being reincarnated after death
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40
I never knew I was in a game until I realized that I was playing with a strategist who knew where to hit, the angle to shoot from what my Achilles heel was, the most fragile part to touch a witty ***** who tickled my inner sleuth, poked my curiosity i started gathering dates, hours, minutes, seconds, mixed signals, distorted paragraphs, slurred sentences, and ambiguous words like a bunch of clues and then i would act like Sherlock as if you’re a case to crack and you knew that I don’t give up on my cases until they’re closed well, i guess i was just right not telling you something you were always blithely aware of that the ticket to my heart will always be through my thoughts being the clever ******* that you were, you already knew what would pester me consistently you must have wanted to torment me so much **that you made yourself a “what if”**
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Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 1:37 PM UTC
III.
DÍAZ Captain Cortés, at last our man is found. From two days inland, natives ferried him. Father Olmedo greets him as we speak- A fellow priest it seems. CORTÉS Bring him to me. Exit Díaz. From Cozumel to here in Yucatán, We’ve hunted this elusive castaway. These Indians hustle us from shore to shore, And, when their gifts of jade fail, toss us rocks. ALVARADO Their dizzying synthesis of amity Backed up with menace proves unsettling. Enter OLMEDO, SANDOVAL, and AGUILAR. SANDOVAL Now, wayward beadsman, meet our strategist. CORTÉS Who is this Indian? Where’s our long-lost priest? AGUILAR Hail, Christian knights! Sweet accents of Castile! CORTÉS Great welcome, cabined friar, you are free! AGUILAR Is it a Wednesday? OLMEDO It’s the Lord’s day, friend. AGUILAR Of course it is! Grace to the only God! My only link with Europe, all these years, Has been to count the crawling calendar. CORTÉS We’ll need your past, to learn their policies. AGUILAR I wish I could. But of their etiquette I’m ignorant, save slavish drudgery. CORTÉS You speak the language, though? AGUILAR Why, like a native. CORTÉS Your name? AGUILAR Gerónimo de Aguilar. OLMEDO Dear Aguilar! Your mother, home in Spain, On hearing you’d been snatched by cannibals, Abstained from meat, and cringed at frying flesh, For fear, by chance, it might be part of you. AGUILAR Oh, rush me home to Écija, back where The only blood drunk is the wine of Christ, The only flesh consumed, our sacrament. CORTÉS What fate befell your fellow countrymen? AGUILAR The luckless women were harassed to death, The men, dishearted. But a happy few Broke from our cages and were spared for slaves, Within the warlike clutch of Na Chan Can. My freedom have your wax and honey bought. One stubborn soul, Guerrero, stays behind.
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Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 5:17 PM UTC
The Floral War 2:4:1-37
DÍAZ Captain Cortés, at last our man is found. From two days inland, natives ferried him. Father Olmedo greets him as we speak- A fellow priest it seems. CORTÉS Bring him to me. Exit Díaz. From Cozumel to here in Yucatán, We’ve hunted this elusive castaway. These Indians hustle us from shore to shore, And, when their gifts of jade fail, toss us rocks. ALVARADO Their dizzying synthesis of amity Backed up with menace proves unsettling. Enter OLMEDO, SANDOVAL, and AGUILAR. SANDOVAL Now, wayward beadsman, meet our strategist. CORTÉS Who is this Indian? Where’s our long-lost priest? AGUILAR Hail, Christian knights! Sweet accents of Castile! CORTÉS Great welcome, cabined friar, you are free! AGUILAR Is it a Wednesday? OLMEDO It’s the Lord’s day, friend. AGUILAR Of course it is! Grace to the only God! My only link with Europe, all these years, Has been to count the crawling calendar. CORTÉS We’ll need your past, to learn their policies. AGUILAR I wish I could. But of their etiquette I’m ignorant, save slavish drudgery. CORTÉS You speak the language, though? AGUILAR Why, like a native. CORTÉS Your name? AGUILAR Gerónimo de Aguilar. OLMEDO Dear Aguilar! Your mother, home in Spain, On hearing you’d been snatched by cannibals, Abstained from meat, and cringed at frying flesh, For fear, by chance, it might be part of you. AGUILAR Oh, rush me home to Écija, back where The only blood drunk is the wine of Christ, The only flesh consumed, our sacrament. CORTÉS What fate befell your fellow countrymen? AGUILAR The luckless women were harassed to death, The men, dishearted. But a happy few Broke from our cages and were spared for slaves, Within the warlike clutch of Na Chan Can. My freedom have your wax and honey bought. One stubborn soul, Guerrero, stays behind.
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59
journey through the terror of this new era mind blown subjugated to ******** every time i spit a verse critics come to curse soon to see the hearse when my guns burst open yo soul and let it flow as i get a lift off my indo no pretender make enemies surrender war strategist at heart never fall part sticknthe game like darts **** peace war is a necessity who can get next to me if im surrounded by real killaz? mobbin' guerillas drug dealers to cap. peelaz? watch yo head now step to the yosef prepare to bow down to the southern sound fools all around wanna see me drown but my heads above the waters rise through all the pain and madness circlin my brain how cani explain? the worlds luxury and treachery wrapped up all in one got **** this aint the life i promised federals funerals to criminals is all i see all eyes on me take a take trip throughy mind ya realilty but still i role out hard ballad of a dead soulja the more madness that scatters my brain the more i make pain scream at my foes with forty four by the time i step through the door down the corridors they'll be gore yall can have the battles but i win the war soar pass ******** **** what these hypocrites say about me they can quote me in magazine but i gotta magazine next to my ar fifteen aimmin between ya shoulders til ya guillotine then transform on the scene puff my green and let it meditate my peen my team all get creams headed for the ceiling never chillin' i be the political villian got them devils filming me and gotta watch my moves butnit dont matter im coming for you fake Jews i know you own everythang but **** yo gangs its the return of the black kang assign me my throne bow down ******* cuz the legacy is home crawlin on fours cuz i told ya dry ya tears death is here cuz this ballad of a dead soulja
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Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 11:24 AM UTC
Ballad of a Dead Yosef
journey through the terror of this new era mind blown subjugated to ******** every time i spit a verse critics come to curse soon to see the hearse when my guns burst open yo soul and let it flow as i get a lift off my indo no pretender make enemies surrender war strategist at heart never fall part sticknthe game like darts **** peace war is a necessity who can get next to me if im surrounded by real killaz? mobbin' guerillas drug dealers to cap. peelaz? watch yo head now step to the yosef prepare to bow down to the southern sound fools all around wanna see me drown but my heads above the waters rise through all the pain and madness circlin my brain how cani explain? the worlds luxury and treachery wrapped up all in one got **** this aint the life i promised federals funerals to criminals is all i see all eyes on me take a take trip throughy mind ya realilty but still i role out hard ballad of a dead soulja the more madness that scatters my brain the more i make pain scream at my foes with forty four by the time i step through the door down the corridors they'll be gore yall can have the battles but i win the war soar pass ******** **** what these hypocrites say about me they can quote me in magazine but i gotta magazine next to my ar fifteen aimmin between ya shoulders til ya guillotine then transform on the scene puff my green and let it meditate my peen my team all get creams headed for the ceiling never chillin' i be the political villian got them devils filming me and gotta watch my moves butnit dont matter im coming for you fake Jews i know you own everythang but **** yo gangs its the return of the black kang assign me my throne bow down ******* cuz the legacy is home crawlin on fours cuz i told ya dry ya tears death is here cuz this ballad of a dead soulja
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69
Salute to the woman who knows who she is And why she is who she is A powerful being Once thrown into a deep end of the ocean But swam her way back to shore She never stops moving forward Nothing can ever pull her backwards Such a brave warrior Shout out to the Superwoman Determined to change the status quo Because she feels the need to do so Just like an eagle She soars higher and higher As the wind blows stronger She does not let anything deter her From reaching another level in life Thumbs up to an amazing woman A great force to be reckoned with That committed Mother on the street Who trades from sunrise to sunset Trying to make ends meet Oh, she has a heart so big! Being mindful that come snow or sunshine She has mouths to feed I revere this gifted woman Who uses her creativity To make an impact in society Despite the uniqueness of her talent She remains a trendsetter It could be the potter in whose hands clay becomes magic The miner who touches gold, before it even gets sold to the markets Or the strategist who sits in high-level meetings, making sure organizations do not collapse A special mention to the special woman Who chooses not to give up She understands that others look up to her The smart lady out there, with a clear vision She makes things happen for her family, community and the world at large She deserves a badge of honour Because she is remarkable!
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Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 11:03 AM UTC
She Is Remarkable