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"stratification" poems
Give a Centimeter, taken is a Light-Year. Ask for an Inch, you're lucky to get a Centimeter. Buy an Ounce, get a Gram. Sell a Gram, taken is an Ounce. Corporations are the ****** dealers of modern society: Subsidized and Multi-Faced Financial fronts for the Military-Industrial-Propaganda Complex. They seek our cognitive tranquilization. They seek our placification. They seek our pacification. They seek our inurement. They seek our inurnment. They're in it for their own profit and that of their friends, as well as the perpetuation of sociopolitical-economic stratification; not the happiness of the customers, or anything so ******* quaint. - "Satisfaction Guaranteed" doesn't mean **** in this materialistic world. A corporation saying 'Satisfaction Guaranteed' is like Monsanto saying it's milk is Organic; A paper thin lie designed to get your money out of your hands and into their coffers forever. Of course, their "Satisfaction" is "Guaranteed"; they have our money now, and all we have useless, expensive toxic waste. (Literally and figuratively.) The Swinepeople love that **** of theirs to roll around in. The overwhelming nature of our Crapitiolism is underwhelmingly superficial. - "Time to bring it down again. Don't just call me pessimist; try and read between the lines. I can't imagine why you wouldn't welcome any change, my friend." -Tool, Aenema
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Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 5:18 PM UTC
Mass Placification [Satisfaction Guaranteed]
So it would seem, the only difference twixt Animal Behavior and Human Behavior is a capacity for written and spoken Language. - ---Epilogue-- According to various 'dictionaries,' the word "anthrocentric" doesn't exist. I, however, define it as the same principals of sexism, ethnocentrism, or nationalism, but applied to the perception of a validated stratification of Human Beings over the entirety of the Web of Life, rather than to simply the *** ethnicity or nationality of another. I feel the natural world around us is far more sacred than we are- although we are spawned of it. I feel it is so much more sacred due to an absent respect for it and the other beings which it hosts so well; so selflessly. We **** Sapiens Sapiens* have defiled our own sanctity via lack of respect for ourselves, let alone others Beings; Human, and otherwise. Apparently, that isn't very popular. So many Egos would rather depend on intentionally small sample sizes, while many Ids would rather self-preclude the challenge of self-observation fore a mere and fleeting (most likely destructive) comfort. I venture to say that is a present form of cowardice.
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Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 5:00 AM UTC
Anthrocentric Bias
Tsk tsk tossed. go out Your suggestions. Whisk whisk washed. Flow south Your directions. Hiss hiss sorry. No time for sage reflections. Songs you sang will not be sung Nor any tales of length believed The brain embodied in such young Will think it he who first perceived Who first made sparks? From rocks to barks? Blinding night and fooling fear? Our first teacher Godfather to fire In this new day remains unclear. Realizations often Skip awry Salute nor ovation For you my friend Draw nigh. When truth escapes your lips It is not their time to hear. For some ears are full of magic And your end is Rolling near.
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Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 4:10 PM UTC
Deflayed Stratification
I find solitude by the shores The cool summer has just arrived By the watch of seagulls swaying side to side Diving like the scuba Is the rhythm by the show and the rising tides Deeply in thoughts in my dreamland Nolstagic memories with captain hook In a world of captivating ideologies,neverland Life in a matter of numbers and dominance, says hook Size isn't the limitation but the solomonic wisdom Based on the agenda stratification Peter pan thrills my dreamland Giving hope and purpose to the affiliates Leaving my dreamland with an option
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Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 6:25 PM UTC
dreamland,neverland
The world is bustling with sin, the evil's ******* us in, money lovers love ******* you and me. They wave their hands in the air, as the onlookers stare, at the definition of impurity. Their soulless lovers demand, the latest fashions and trends, snap their fingers, instant gratification. We eat straight out of their hands, like a dog, on command, while they laugh, it's stratification. Smoke billows in the sky, from the smoke stacks, so high, they pollute the world and show no sympathy. They rest on golden lawn chairs, as girl run hands through their hair, people are objects of the industry. The politics are corrupt, we say that we've had enough, but the truth is we have no voice to scream. Their money runs our lives, they hear the peoples cries, but they continue destroying the American dream.
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Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 11:01 PM UTC
Sinful
Loves sees the bands, colors of a rainbow, And in their perfect stratification, Begs to see more, what else there is to know Between colors’ identification? Loves sees the spectrum, red to purple hues, Where seven colors, beautiful enough Disguise preciousness hid within their views, Vibrant colors the peak, love sees the trough. Love sees beyond the discrete colored bands, To join red and orange, yellow and green, Blue intertwined to violet like held hands, Love asks what magic is there in between? Love sees rainbows, but is not satisfied, That line between colors intervening, Spanning the sky, but look deeper inside, Love asks to see beauty’s inner meaning.
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Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 10:06 PM UTC
Between The Colors Of A Rainbow
I have come to realize This perpetuated feeling Is neither unhappiness nor lack of joy But a feeling of my own creation That of boredom Seeking out the next thing to fascinate Only to yet again become bored You see I don’t really think sadness is a lack of happiness It is a lack of fulfillment It is the fact That time and time again Generation after generation We teach happiness through gratification Society has taught us to stop thinking To stop feeling happiness without the minutia The results are a stratification of people And a difference now in Humans And Human Beings
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Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC
The Question is What Should I Do?
What I wish to be exists not. To have Years of sorrow and grief forgot, But oh, oh no; That suffering will long remain. It will riddle my mind; Labyrinthine confines -- All alone, always, Unfathomably far from every shore, From what I once adored. This is emptiness: This is the void of being. I will wake up with that knot Still In my stomach, Lying awake for hours, Hardly moving, Immobile, Still, so still, Clenching for comfort and warmth and care, But it simply won't be there, And it very well may never return. That flame of the few That I once knew, So pure and so true, Has withered into an ember, And it's so far away, this I know. I would rather go ahead and die, Some times, I think, Than live a life of mediocrity; Of predictability. Yet I'm also dying to find any source of light In this abyss, Or an escape. But I can't find one. I'm having so much trouble simply existing. I was not cut out for this world, I can tell you that for certain. Oh, with such certainty. I cannot handle the pain of everything around me, Of proxy wars and vast slums. Of paved forests and rigged economies. It is far too much for me to ignore... Far, far, far too much, This is for certain. With such certainty. So is opting out the way to go? It's getting to where I'd do anything To not exist as I presently am, And to not exist where I presently am: In this desperate mind inside a dying world. I just want to be okay with living. But I absolutely mean this when I say it: All of the pain in the world, All of the inequality, Stratification, Corruption, Tragedy, Genocide, I feel it. I feel all of it... It pulls and drags me Into some unknown depth, Some infinite chasm, Where no light has ever been, Where no light will ever be, And where I am not sure If I will ever leave.
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Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 11:00 PM UTC
Oblivion
What I wish to be exists not. To have Years of sorrow and grief forgot, But oh, oh no; That suffering will long remain. It will riddle my mind; Labyrinthine confines -- All alone, always, Unfathomably far from every shore, From what I once adored. This is emptiness: This is the void of being. I will wake up with that knot Still In my stomach, Lying awake for hours, Hardly moving, Immobile, Still, so still, Clenching for comfort and warmth and care, But it simply won't be there, And it very well may never return. That flame of the few That I once knew, So pure and so true, Has withered into an ember, And it's so far away, this I know. I would rather go ahead and die, Some times, I think, Than live a life of mediocrity; Of predictability. Yet I'm also dying to find any source of light In this abyss, Or an escape. But I can't find one. I'm having so much trouble simply existing. I was not cut out for this world, I can tell you that for certain. Oh, with such certainty. I cannot handle the pain of everything around me, Of proxy wars and vast slums. Of paved forests and rigged economies. It is far too much for me to ignore... Far, far, far too much, This is for certain. With such certainty. So is opting out the way to go? It's getting to where I'd do anything To not exist as I presently am, And to not exist where I presently am: In this desperate mind inside a dying world. I just want to be okay with living. But I absolutely mean this when I say it: All of the pain in the world, All of the inequality, Stratification, Corruption, Tragedy, Genocide, I feel it. I feel all of it... It pulls and drags me Into some unknown depth, Some infinite chasm, Where no light has ever been, Where no light will ever be, And where I am not sure If I will ever leave.
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67
New World Stratification, Fractalised Parallelized Reality; A Re-Ordering; Stacked ***** and ********* And myriad ****** Bags to Fuel Our Fires. Whilst <Wishlist?> I didn't open the Doors Originally, I cracked the Dawn and others pushed through Avalanche- and Stampede-style. But the Foolish Simpletons didn't realise The inherent Dangers of their Giddy-fun; Not All Other Worlders or Other UniVerses/DieMentions Are Populated with nice, courteous, civil Peoples. What did I {WE} invite to roost at home? And have we (as a bunch of egotistical Hoes) Captured Them on Film (Cells); in Flesh; in Fetish; in Flame {US}? I'm super curious about the Parasitic Classes: As are the Predators & Warriors , & the Other Net-Cast Members. I'm not the Christ you Imagine - Not Me! I'm Innocent! I was the Messiah --> The Sacrifice for God's Reality. But God isn't what He seems, far from it. He feeds on your Souls. I AM a self-made Man/UniVersal/Multi-Dimensional Being, And while God thought He could trap me, He was wrong! I don't stop - I can't stop - I won't stop - until I'm satisfied She's satisfied That I've explained, or at least considered, All Possibilities from a Human's consideration. [Please note that Human's are few and far between, and rarely what they seem.]
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Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
Fifth Dimension and Others
hollow cardboard reach and the destitution of the earth and lives that don’t matter the open wound of living under capitalism a horizon of black spots mangled neurons worthless towers lined to the sky production unto pollution putrefaction and the whole end the whole ******* end the whole queers ***** in prison blacks killed in custody xenophobic masturbatory farmers decimating the land modern death is class war race war gender war a systemic genocide through slow violence laws drafted stressing interpersonal violence over corporate negligence social stratification unequal access to housing, food and education MAY 68 **** your gender binary, your race hierarchy, your CV, your Christmas, think positive ******** **** your borders, your rape-apologising, your colourblindness, your class privilege, your white fragility, your selective free speech, your hegemonic masculinity, your silicon valley entrepreneurialism, your cultural imperialism, your meat industry, your deforestation, your piece of **** accommodation, your debt economy, your war economy, your prison economy, your unpaid women’s domestic economy that upholds the entire heteropatriarchal world **** YOUR CAPITALISM precarity unto subjugation, alienation, destitution an increasing youth suicide rate an inflation rate rising faster than minimum wage a lack of jobs while you tell us we’re worthless beneficiaries a system that chases profit at the cost of existence the entire concept of meritocracy debt as a promise of payment yet to exist enforced return to nothing
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Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 7:16 AM UTC
modern dying
hollow cardboard reach and the destitution of the earth and lives that don’t matter the open wound of living under capitalism a horizon of black spots mangled neurons worthless towers lined to the sky production unto pollution putrefaction and the whole end the whole ******* end the whole queers ***** in prison blacks killed in custody xenophobic masturbatory farmers decimating the land modern death is class war race war gender war a systemic genocide through slow violence laws drafted stressing interpersonal violence over corporate negligence social stratification unequal access to housing, food and education MAY 68 **** your gender binary, your race hierarchy, your CV, your Christmas, think positive ******** **** your borders, your rape-apologising, your colourblindness, your class privilege, your white fragility, your selective free speech, your hegemonic masculinity, your silicon valley entrepreneurialism, your cultural imperialism, your meat industry, your deforestation, your piece of **** accommodation, your debt economy, your war economy, your prison economy, your unpaid women’s domestic economy that upholds the entire heteropatriarchal world **** YOUR CAPITALISM precarity unto subjugation, alienation, destitution an increasing youth suicide rate an inflation rate rising faster than minimum wage a lack of jobs while you tell us we’re worthless beneficiaries a system that chases profit at the cost of existence the entire concept of meritocracy debt as a promise of payment yet to exist enforced return to nothing
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34
*i hate this ******** even writing about it gives me Sartre's nausea, but it's the reality, and as such, given it's reality, it's in-escapable, so there's no point hiding behind a putrefaction of ideals with nice, ear-pleasing sensible words that do not antagonise, let alone engage with dialectics, that sharpened version of what is know to be simply: a conversation, or via Shakespeare: too many stages, too many worlds, too few actors, a load of physicists though, deliberating poly-dimension etc., but too few actors; what a massive Holocaust of subjectivity this scientific positivism came to be... clearer cloning devices are in place than what the Koran invites. they will not convert so easily, having been robbed of communism! the mongolian conversation / connection, i.e. if it worked for the mongolians to become a nation sub- in the geopolitical stratification they say: 'it should have worked for us, but it didn't, we're as dispersed as the jews! and we're met with more anti-semitic remarks around the globe than the ******* Deutsche!* and when the recession hit the majority of european countries poland remained recession free, and when the migrant crisis came the european union abolished the schengen union: zumbi e o senhor das guerras zumbi e o senhor das demandas quando zumbi chega e zumbi quem manda your tribe - our tribe - i.e. **** your little unity project for a café culture; hostility will be met with hostility, or quiet simply right-wing football hooligan marches with a flare for acrobatics of explosives... i didn't want it, as honesty goes i am in debt with Scottish universities and i'm not paying them back... i'm on £120 a week benefits after being misdiagnosed as schizoid... oh look, Michael Myers is smoking a pipe of Hashish in Damascus.
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May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 9:32 PM UTC
und Deutsche
*i hate this ******** even writing about it gives me Sartre's nausea, but it's the reality, and as such, given it's reality, it's in-escapable, so there's no point hiding behind a putrefaction of ideals with nice, ear-pleasing sensible words that do not antagonise, let alone engage with dialectics, that sharpened version of what is know to be simply: a conversation, or via Shakespeare: too many stages, too many worlds, too few actors, a load of physicists though, deliberating poly-dimension etc., but too few actors; what a massive Holocaust of subjectivity this scientific positivism came to be... clearer cloning devices are in place than what the Koran invites. they will not convert so easily, having been robbed of communism! the mongolian conversation / connection, i.e. if it worked for the mongolians to become a nation sub- in the geopolitical stratification they say: 'it should have worked for us, but it didn't, we're as dispersed as the jews! and we're met with more anti-semitic remarks around the globe than the ******* Deutsche!* and when the recession hit the majority of european countries poland remained recession free, and when the migrant crisis came the european union abolished the schengen union: zumbi e o senhor das guerras zumbi e o senhor das demandas quando zumbi chega e zumbi quem manda your tribe - our tribe - i.e. **** your little unity project for a café culture; hostility will be met with hostility, or quiet simply right-wing football hooligan marches with a flare for acrobatics of explosives... i didn't want it, as honesty goes i am in debt with Scottish universities and i'm not paying them back... i'm on £120 a week benefits after being misdiagnosed as schizoid... oh look, Michael Myers is smoking a pipe of Hashish in Damascus.
Continue reading...
23
You could carry all your pain inside the nerves in your tongue like such lines are suitcases with just the right proportions. Vertical lines always did create the illusion of symmetry. If your pain found its home in the part of your body that longs to be used in the verbal explanation of what it holds, maybe your tongue would learn to create more than it deconstructs. You wore streaks of grey sky like a costume that did very little to conceal what lay beneath. Maybe you thought if you wore it long enough it would act as an extra layer of skin, another stratification to separate you from your deepest self. When they taught us how to laugh we never questioned if we would grow up to be happy. It was always something we were sure of when our minds were clouded in a shroud of naive hope. Now years have passed and we have learned how to whistle wishes into the harmonicas of our necks and wish for a better melody. - m. b. 2014
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Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
Carry All Your Pain
Before social stratification (differences in wealth and power versus lack thereof) hunter/gatherers rarely fought. They were all equal and sensed it. But when groups became big enough, they formed cities like Sumer in Mesopotamia, and concomitantly some people got wealthy and powerful while most did not. Society, therefore, became, in time, stratified and in more time created superficial distinctions among the people of that city. Obviously, my commentary is grossly oversimplified, but the point I'm going to make here is spot-on;  namely, what has never changed among human beings is the locus of everyone's innate, inviolable worth, which is within each one of us, not without. But the people of Sumer and other cities that followed were duped by the illusions of wealth and power as being worth, and that led to stratification of different groups based on false premises. And that led to making some groups slaves while the wealthy and powerful remained, they thought, superior.   This was the wrong turn in the fork in the road humanity took. Humanity thus forgot we all have the same worth, and this inimical illusion only ballooned over millennia. The right fork we need to find is the one the hunter/gatherers had taken and the whole world needs quickly to take that fork again before we all destroy Earth. TOD HOWARD HAWKS
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Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 3:10 AM UTC
WHY HUMANITY TOOK THE WRONG FORK IN THE ROAD
Whomever you meet, you will no doubt be in conflict, that is the nature of the beast, you and I, cut by chromatic dividing lines, split by life decisions, perspective of the past, present and future, separation of church and state of mind, women as companions, women as ******* charity as obligation, charity as privilege, meaning it means it something, or not at all, who's to say? A dichotomy of idealistic sentimentality, different cogs in the same broken machine, we are all twisted gears in a mal-adapted tree, that bears no fruit, and whether the strong rule, or if the weak share the shattered remains, means little to me, we are all equally hopeless, fractal personalities, torn by social stratification, at the core we are broken, and I love it.
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Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 2:25 PM UTC
Conflictualitynesscity
upheld facing heaven facing the music angel choirs are nothing like the devil down in Georgia far above the level of love into a stratospheric stratification of hope and seven levels of adrenaline beyond dope dopamine dreams drip slow soothing control like a lighted window in the snow glimmering like gold but so far gone the meaning is lost and I wander through my own house wondering why this isn't home wishing to the stars to go away into the unknown but I'm snatched back and I switch back to passing myself in the mirror and screaming ****** Mary because I'm home but gentle hands know how to love while being played like a fiddle how to sweetly play it off as close enough to god to know yet I am home and the stars align so I do find refuge in the music and make a home in dreams made doped coaxed by my own two hands too late to come down
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Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 1:42 PM UTC
gentle hands make dreams work
Lawrence Hall [email protected]   https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/ poeticdrivel.blogspot.com                 William Wordsworth Receives an Email of Rejection Dear Pronoun-of-Preference Wordsworth: We have interrogated your poem about daffodils And can only regret your lack of filtering For post-colonial non-binary tropes And gender-vulnerable intersectionality The daffodils appear not to have been consulted With regard for their self-affirmation Which suggests patriarchal guilt through your Hetero-normative stratification We find your daffodils ruthlessly aggressive And your masculinist constructs, yes, regressive We wish you success elsewhere. Anywhere Go away
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Mar 18, 2022
Mar 18, 2022 at 9:56 AM UTC
Wordsworth Receives an Email of Rejection - another attempt to post
Lawrence Hall [email protected]   https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/ poeticdrivel.blogspot.com                 William Wordsworth Receives an Email of Rejection Dear Pronoun-of-Preference Wordsworth: We have interrogated your poem about daffodils And can only regret your lack of filtering For post-colonial non-binary tropes And gender-vulnerable intersectionality The daffodils appear not to have been consulted With regard for their self-affirmation Which suggests patriarchal guilt through your Hetero-normative stratification We find your daffodils ruthlessly aggressive And your masculinist constructs, yes, regressive We wish you success elsewhere. Anywhere Go away
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Mar 16, 2022
Mar 16, 2022 at 11:41 PM UTC
William Wordsworth Receives an Email of Rejection
We are citizens, victims of a system of stratification. We use fiction to relate us to them, women and men, social programming for the progress to do more then just began again. While the filthy fat cats are raking it in doing more then making a killing by selling weapons made to **** foreign children, making profits off the violence while calling us immoral criminals. So, we use fantasy to cross the breach, break the cranium so you can see reality through that fictional brew, and gain compassion from the stories you read or the movies you see. This is the time to select a brave few who may follow you through
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Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 7:15 AM UTC
Untitled
Repetitive volutions of countless revolutions supplying finite rations killing future generations. The stimulation of deep ire by faux mutation of fire burning rocks of ice like useless sacrifice. Yet the berserk scramble to the solution of inevitable social dissolution only sees to the ratification of society’s julienned stratification Scrabbling frantically in an upwards city encompassing dictated veracity within confines of a progressive nation unaware of its gradual resignation.
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Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 11:50 AM UTC
The evolution of devolution