"successor" poems
Giving joy, getting joy, never coy,
Often pretty, always called a toy,
She sells all that there is to deploy.
And there is she who is demure;
A teacher whose job is secure.
Some say that all teachers are pure.
And there is he who is a professor;
He is his father’s successor;
Just like his father’s predecessor.
The first one we call a *****
She prostitutes her body more and more;
But the other ones we adore.
The professor prostitutes his knowledge.
He also sells his precious time.
And the teacher too makes the same pledge;
Especially while she is in her prime.
We all ********** something every day;
Yet only the first one’s a ********** yay!
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 4:23 AM UTC
Kashmir is not just beautiful
It was also free of violence,
Not too far back in history,
That did occur just 7 to 8 centuries ago.
Then they poured out of Central Asia,
Hordes getting bigger with each wave,
Eliminate they did the original people.
In 1320, it was Zulju raiding Kashmir,
Then Rinchana, a Tibetan Büđđhïst refugee, he took over.
Rinchana had Shah Mir as his Minister,
Shah Mir persuaded Rinchana to Islam.
After Rinchana, his son was set to be the ruler,
However, Shah Mir killed this lawful successor.
In 1339, Shah Mir became the first Muslim ruler of Kashmiri lands,
Initially, they did not dare harm the original Hïnđū inhabitants.
Then it was just Muslim kings for few centuries and slowly the Hïnđū heaven slipped into Muslim hands.
Now we know what is the ground reality,
The demography became Islamized over centuries,
All arts and crafts stand dwarfed by violence,
What they aim is an Islamic State, an Islamic Earth.
Aug 10, 2019
Aug 10, 2019 at 7:14 AM UTC
The Story
by Kamal Nasser
translation by Michael R. Burch
I will tell you a story ...
a story that lived in the dreams of my people,
a story that comes from the world of tents.
It is a story inspired by hunger and embellished by dark nights of terror.
It is the story of my country, a handful of refugees.
Every twenty of them have a pound of flour between them
and a few promises of relief ... gifts and parcels.
It is the story of the suffering ones
who stood waiting in line ten years,
in hunger,
in tears and agony,
in hardship and yearning.
It is a story of a people who were misled,
who were thrown into the mazes of the years.
And yet they stood defiant,
disrobed yet united
as they trudged from the light to their tents:
the revolution of return
into the world of darkness.
Kamal Nasser was a much-admired Palestinian poet and Palestinian Christian, who due to his renowned integrity was known as "The Conscience." He was a member of Jordan's parliament in 1956. He was murdered in 1973 by an Israeli death squad whose most notorious member was future Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak. Barak (born Ehud Brog) later ruled as Israel’s tenth Prime Minister from 1999 to 2001. His adopted Hebrew name Barak means "lightning." As a younger man, Brog/Barak was a member of a secret assassination unit that liquidated Palestinians in Lebanon and the occupied territories. In the 1973 covert mission Operation Spring of Youth in Beirut, which was part of the larger Operation Wrath of God, he disguised himself as a woman in order to assassinate Palestinians. The raid resulted in the deaths of two women, one of them an elderly Italian. Two Lebanese policemen were also killed, along with the poet Kamal Nasser.
Nasser was the PLO's most prominent Christian and he enjoyed "great appeal" in Lebanon, Syria, and Iraq "both as a distinguished poet and likeable personality." He was the “conscience of the Palestinian revolution,” according to Nazih Abul-Nidal, who worked with him on the magazine Filastin al-Thawra. Nasser “had the most democratic outlook of all Palestinian leaders at the time,” he recalls. He respected opposing views, admired the commitment of young people, and was a major recruitment asset for the Palestinian revolution. “That is why he was put high on the hit-list.” The previous year, the Israelis had murdered another renowned Palestinian writer and activist in Beirut, Ghassan Kanafani, by booby-trapping his car. Nasser’s successor, Majed Abu Sharar, was also assassinated by Israelis, in Rome in 1981 while attending a conference in solidarity with the Palestinian people.
Keywords/Tags: Kamal Nasser, Palestinian, Palestine, PLO, Conscience, Ramallah, Christian, religion, poet, Arab, Arabic, Arab Spring, betrayal, conflict, courage, devotion
Dec 9, 2021
Dec 9, 2021 at 7:55 AM UTC
My strength, my being, my colour , my pride,
The soil I was born from,
A breath of that nation, I am.
My mother, my family, is this nation,
The successor of a profound civilization,
The sky I fly in, the freedom I spoil in.
The borders that define me,
The states which surround me,
A culture which builds in every word I speak.
I will be born here time and again,
To repay my debts of life and death,
A nation which will store my identity, past time, past life.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 1:59 PM UTC
396
There is a Languor of the Life
More imminent than Pain—
’Tis Pain’s Successor—When the Soul
Has suffered all it can—
A Drowsiness—diffuses—
A Dimness like a Fog
Envelops Consciousness—
As Mists—obliterate a Crag.
The Surgeon—does not blanch—at pain
His Habit—is severe—
But tell him that it ceased to feel—
The Creature lying there—
And he will tell you—skill is late—
A Mightier than He—
Has ministered before Him—
There’s no Vitality.
2.8k
—Flash Forward—
A day of reckoning.
A small boat crosses
the Hudson River,
no warning horn.
Destination New Jersey,
of all places.
A. Burr isn’t warned
that Hamilton will not
fire his pistol.
Destiny predetermined.
“Death doesn’t discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints,
It takes and it takes and it takes.
History obliterates.”
—Flashback—
General.
Colonel.
Aide-de-camp.
Immigrant.
“Don’t engage, strike by night.
Remain relentless ‘til their troops take flight.”
“We escort their men out of Yorktown.
They stagger home single file.
Tens of thousands of people flood the streets.”
“Took up a collection just to send him to the
mainland.
‘Get your education. Don’t forget from whence
you came.’”
—Stepfather of the Union—
Treasury secretary, author of the Federalist Papers,
lawyer, speechwriter, confidante, opponent of slavery,
member of the Constitutional Convention.
“History has its eyes on you.”
“I’ve seen injustice in the world and I’ve
corrected it.”
“The Federalist: Addressed to the People
of the State of New York.”
“Goes and proposes his own form
of government.”
—Family and Marriage—
The Schuyler Sisters – Eliza.
Maria and James Reynolds – adultery and bribery.
Philip Hamilton – successor son and victim.
Philip Schuyler – father-in-law.
“And if this child
Shares a fraction of your smile
Or a fragment of your mind, look out, world!”
“I know you’re a man of honor,
I’m so sorry to bother you at home.”
“I’m only nineteen but my mind is older,
Gonna be my own man, like my father
but bolder.”
“Grampa just lost his seat in the Senate.”
—Why, How, How long?—
Why not?, biography,
genius, rapid-fire rap,
hip-hop, historical vertigo,
Lin-Manuel Miranda at the White House,
a cast talented beyond measure,
the Great White Way,
2017-18 and forever….
“…13 percent of the population is foreign
born, which is near an all-time high;
that one day soon there will no longer
be majority and minority races, only a
vibrant mix of colors.”
‒Jeremy McCarter, from Chapter I of
Hamilton: The Revolution
*© Lewis Bosworth, 12/2016
With credit to the book:*
Hamilton: The Revolution
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 11:35 AM UTC
Lime green envy.
Residing in me.
I understand it’s ugly.
Imprisoning me.
In my own insecurities.
Constantly believing I’m unworthy.
Unworthy to be happy.
Unworthy of education.
Unworthy of you.
And then I see you chatting up my friends.
And I’m engulfed in this,
Lime green envy.
It’s all consuming.
Taking over my rationality.
Becoming a hulkish version of myself.
And It’s certainly isn’t incredible.
I know I shouldn’t worry.
I know you care about me.
But I can’t help but to fall,
In this vat of chemicals containing envy.
Turning me into something of a villain.
And ironically,
I’m my own greatest enemy.
And ironically,
I’m pushing you away.
With all this,
Lime green envy.
Residing in me.
And I understand it’s ugly.
Imprisoning me.
In my own insecurities.
Constantly believing I’m unworthy.
Unworthy to be happy.
Unworthy of education.
Unworthy of you.
And I can try to blame my past,
My family or friends or even you.
But I know that I’m truly the one to blame.
For no one is forcing me to treat you all so badly.
It’s a choice that I make.
And I have to deal with my actions.
Whether positive or negative.
I decide to either be the successor or the victim.
So, I’m sorry.
Sorry that I’ve let this lime green envy consume me.
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 1:39 AM UTC
Night equals day equals night;
The march of hours pauses,
poised in tranquility
as the waning season cedes
to its successor -
with each passing day spinning
like a cosmic pirhouette
whirling about the solar axis.
The oracle of autumn
prophecies the coming snow and ice.
So we gather in our grain
and fire up a *** of tea
to share before the hearth.
The solstice descends upon us
as we burrow in with friends and kin.
But even as the frozen ground
crackles beneath our boots,
we trust the ever-whirling earth
to stretch the days once more
and raise spring flowers from their sleep.
October 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
Her hands are delicate from the burden she carries,
The lines seen on her palms trace journeys her ancestors traveled for her to be here today,
Her fingers grasp the pen firmly as she strokes a new narrative into existence,
Rings sparkle in the light with each motion as a symbol of sovereignty and culture,
Mehndi celebrates her heritage in a bashful pursuit for representation,
A female successor in the works,
Breaking the norms and defining her identity one step at a time.
May 7, 2021
May 7, 2021 at 12:35 PM UTC
O, mosaic of my oft marveled at Mosie
You fade away as swift as the windstorm enters
Mosaic, I've built you up in my mind's cubbies
And you permeate through my brain's centers
Every experience boiled itself into me
Constructing a picture of you that I could see
Which I could consult when I reached difficulty
Or whose answer I could envision in monotony
O, Mosaic, you quickly go, as hurt intrudes
The pain pervades all points of space
It destroys you and ceaselessly protrudes
Gone are the days when I'd see your face and caress it
Gone are the prayers we'd hold up our relationship and bless it
And now gone is your magnificent mosaic
Even though it pains me just to say it
O, Healing, come faster than your predecessor
May you permeate the place we made and become its successor
And, God, can You be real and continue to bless her?
As your mosaic fades away
Dreams of tomorrow thus can't stay
As your mosaic breathes its last breath
Let us exhale that last sigh
The one we always talked about before our death
This time, drifting further and farther apart
This time, holding our aching and breaking hearts
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 10:48 AM UTC
What I Forgot...
I Can't Actually Recall That,
But I'd Again Try To Pull It Outta My Hat.
I Barely Remember It,
But A Smile Comes To My Face,
Whenever I Get Any Faint Hint.
Her Face Flashes In Memory,
As I Try To Recall Her Face,
In My Moments Of Loneliness,
Of Inexplicable Emptiness.
Her Sweet Voice Rings In My Ears,
As I Get Bored By Stuff,
In The While I Pass Through Clears,
Of The Forests Feeling Lonely,
Trying To Divert My Mind & Attention.
The More I Try To Hate Her,
The Less I Succeed.
The More I Try To Erase Her,
The Less I Succeed.
The More I Try To Forget Her,
The Less I Succeed.
As I Get Along With The Void She Created,
I Realize Her Value - Miss Her More.
Any Other Cuter Girls Whom I've Dated,
I Can't Find Her Exact Successor.
And As I Spend My Days In Solitude,
I Long Again To Kiss Her,
I Wish She'd Know That I Miss Her.
I Forgot How To Get Along,
People Often Translate Me Wrong.
I Forgot How To Actually Smile,
I Find The Society Standing At A Mile.
I Forgot How To Be Happy Alone,
Not That I've Never Been That Way Before.
I Forgot How To Properly Kiss A Girl,
Was It By The Lips Straight Or Given A Twirl.
What I Didn't Forget Is To Write,
And To Read.
I Didn't Forget To Go To The Burial Site,
And To Lament.
What I Should Keep In Mind Is The Reality,
And Focus On It.
I Shouldn't Repent Over The Breakup's Gravity,
And Overcome It.
I Should Abandon This Surly Look On My Rigid Face.
A Small Smile Comes To My Lips,
As I Put Away Her Memory Forcibly.
She Sure Is A Beautiful Memory,
A Memory I Love To Revisit All The Days.
Though This Isn't The Life,
The Accompaniment I Desired.
I Still Don't Try In This Existence,
To Find A Replacement.
I Still Love Her I Feel,
Oh! Forget It - I Escape.
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 5:25 AM UTC
Stale air crosses the lips of past love
Time has turned the sweet; repugnant
Until the heart flutters again in hope,
Veiled emotion builds a wall
Weathered by time, or crumbled by loves successor
Jun 1, 2010
Jun 1, 2010 at 9:57 AM UTC
Tigers hunt, Sheep bleat
Eagles soar, Bears sleep
Only one imperfection
One blot on this earth
Only one mistake
In this chaotic universe
The biped that thought
I’m special, they are naught
I will chase them and herd them
I will cow them and hurt them
I will conquer their will
As I sit atop my hill
All that I see is mine
My power is divine
Indeed power is divine
or at least above the touch
Of the lowly biped,
Slave to ego, its crutch
Time cycles around
The circle of life
Each fool with a title
Sits pretty for a while
On a mountain of bones,
Bloodshed, false pride
I’ve won, I’ve crushed them
Look how they run and hide
Oh, don’t you see,
You sad little fool
One of these days that
Boomerang will find you
Your house of cards is swaying
The hounds of hate are baying
Your great successor has arrived
Same delusions, different stripes!
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 9:58 AM UTC
In a lonely room; walls feeling like mirrors
in every empty corner.
Reflecting, on cringey moments,
points for past arguments. And of course, enjoying
the benefits of being the casual loner.
Pulling myself to the self doubts for tomorrow,
_"will I wake up in the morning,"_ the question
I have before I rest my head. I say a silent prayer;
and maybe try not to focus on death.
But instead, my focus is the pretty petty moments
of life; soon to fade like a flower.
The greatest overthinker when I'm all alone,
balancing insecurities, pleasure, and life's pressures.
Music of past songs, still ringing in my buzzing ears.
Phone full of playlists setting the mood for what face
I'm sleeping with tonight.
And wondering which one of my dreams I'm living to
be leaving for a successor.
Yes sir!
My mind alone; takes me further from home,
when I'm all alone.
So quiet in there, that you could drop a stone and
it would echo down to my soul. Entertaining the
crowd of shadows peeping through the window.
Tree branches digging into the walls, with my bed
in the middle.
I think about love, I wonder about hope.
I yearn for calm, I search for control.
I fight battles alone, I set my life's next goal.
I motivate my soul, and I push myself into being whole.
All of which happens in the dark room,
sitting on my own.
Mar 30, 2022
Mar 30, 2022 at 2:47 PM UTC
Relieve my state of morality
Bounded by souls reaping serenity
Bring me the one with divine revelation
Suspense filled dreams underlying redemption
My heart fills with screams of the after life
My soul needs another to begin the splice
Our fertile minds trapped forever
Describing a world built by our successor
So quaint and subtle a fear mistaken
We begin our lives already forsaken
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 11:07 PM UTC
A Man beyond mortal men of strength
He is guided by the Gods to go every length
Defending the weak and defeating the strong
Battles after Battles in controlling struggles in getting along
Powers from the Gods
Hercules possessing character
Tearing down barriers
The strength of his heart
His strength feats on foes
The essence of his muscles
Mass that is solid
He is the rock of intervention
Hercules is God’s creation
He stands on commitment and victory
That’s Hercules story
His name stands for glory
Hercules is also a woman’s threshold knowing he can and will
Destiny upon destiny that he must fulfill
Hercules thought
“Gods of might, I am the successor being the conqueror. I don’t take any destiny
Light. My mission is to overcome any plight. My strength comes from within along with forces that supply. My moment within any hour, and I can’t tire. I was to complete a mission and that is the Gods decision. Hercules stands for leadership, and I am my own provision”
Hercules name that spreads throughout history
Yet a following of achievement and establishment
Yesterday came and tomorrow is a new beginning
Hercules believed and accomplished
Foes often wondered in fear
That is because Hercules was near
Heritage perhaps
Long live Hercules
A name no one evil wants to reckon with
The Sun has risen and the ashes has cleared
The Gods are well pleased
Hercules has put comfort being at ease.
Nov 2, 2021
Nov 2, 2021 at 4:06 PM UTC
Senate Clever, Ohio - 1000, 1850, 2. Download
the new label model Successor 2: Other
Francs, if needed Ijärvi princesses with good
ears, healthy and secure = total aging time;
Livestock tax (Dutch, Dutch, 1925 for thousands of years;
Cyprus is simple and safe [1] SARS (+ opinions)
Multiple tubes; Animals in the Sahara Desert;
Plants, Wireless Mixes (/ juki) Competitor
Protection (bacteria Astro-Microbiologists, Etc.),
by diet [3] [2] [Greek, "yes" or "right" In Greek]
European Union, b Tomas Pain's
Language- Yet, YBU: The burning of the Qur'an
Who does not speak to the king of the king
Associated with the Emperor, Biology
Biologist Products also cover many different
biologists and pharmaceutical products.
Nothing to work with a small universe;
Some have large holes; To cope with the worst
of problems? You will get swift changes
to your stomach; For the future. Every change
will be reported to the new employee service
board. I do not like Chinese. For example,
if something Changes Every Four years;
These are general Instructions. Brand new;
Similar women, but a little bedroom; This is true ...
not for you and the other fish. Read on Read
[7] Pedestrians can be used on foot. Examples: C.
And lastly. Ten years later, your Frequency
will
range from 10% to 1.1 ...
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 1:31 PM UTC
The successor lives a life of taught
asceticism, corrupted by nothing, but a heart and
a mind, his own drum and band
and beat.
Worries escape his unlocked hell,
his key molded not in the same fire,
she once left me to burn.
Oh how I long for emancipation,
unaffected freedom and thought.
But I feel a pull toward you and
an arrow shot from her being,
stabbed and wounded,
the speed unbearable.
Dark red **** flooding river,
flowing from the hole,
her existence, vitality,
breathing heart, opened wide my ocean.
Why does your effect,
still burn,
infect, still
keep my innards
wanting, longing,
for a patch.
Oh sew and needle me!
Jealousy and need
and human lust and self
absorption never so felt strong her sting.
I miss this fire,
still, the pain from her.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 4:32 PM UTC
Hope is tired.
He is an old man, beaten down,
Worn out by the disappointment
Of expectations.
Every now and then the sun comes out
And hope is renewed,
Transformed into an infant:
Fresh, naïve, a blank slate
Upon which the world will write.
Without hope we would be nothing,
Life would no longer exist,
And the vacuum of anti-matter,
That makes up space, would be its successor.
Hope puts ideas in our minds
And laughter in our souls.
It brings tears to our eyes,
And despair to our hearts.
Hope is the basis, the foundation
For all emotion, thought and action
Because it provides us with the power of reasons:
A reason to love and breathe
And a reason to sleep and eat;
A reason to be ourselves and a reason to
Live the life we are meant to live.
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
Step out in fashion style
Rearranging what you already have in fashion while
Add to accompany to impress
Add that vest to bring out the best
The right dress and blazer to excess
No need to buy a new outfit
Turn your wardrobe closet with what you previously wore into a whole new fashion
It’s about style and how confident you feel
Make your fashion statement come out for real
No matter what fashion clothes you have, you can make your wardrobe come alive like fashion of today
Start your fashion on its way
You are the Fashion runway
Turn old fashion style into something new
Take that blue and add white
Turn red be out of sight
Why pay money and give the stores
Your own closet should be your only explore
Use what clothes currently have and turn into fashion of tomorrow
You didn’t know you had that
Your own closet you and even you can’t keep track
It’s a known fact
So Jacket, skirt, Blouse and dress
Turn that wardrobe into what it is worth
Men, man your closet fashion to impress
Ladies and Men look your very best
Old wardrobe can become new fashion
Always remember, you are the compliment
The successor being the Fashion Professor
You now know how fashion is done
You are ready to do your own fashion test being for fun
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 6:12 PM UTC
The hidden box,
beyond the abyss of infinite nature,
marks the beginning of the world spinning around.
A box of myseteries, feelings, sins and wars,
an opening of beauty and chaos
in admist of wondering constellations.
An epitome of a hauntingly beautiful destruction,
a slavery of many hypocritical power-driven successor and lust-filled idiots,
crave for brilliant over-taking of the mind.
Seeking the closing,
is hard.
Souls scattered across the Earth,
Gaia is never at rest.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 8:03 AM UTC
I take my knowledge from architects, medieval painters and galore.
I walk along the stretch of times, Read the Canterbury Tales from folks of yore.
I've written literature in my own dialect, through the beautiful English language.
I find awe in the act of creation, new etymologies where old writers anguished.
My words: symphonies of the beloved and dead Beethoven; like the arias of Wagner.
I am the high priest, the new catholicicist propogandising as your Cardinal.
I am the spiritual technology, provided to the ailment of what we call society.
I am the new Ghandi, the Dalai Lama deservedly inspiring your piety.
I am the Luciferous angel of life, breathing heaven through the cesspool of Earth.
I am the post-modern Romeo and Juliet, Warhol's 15 minutes of fame and worth.
I am the Alexander Mcqueen, the metaphilosopher of fabric illusions.
I am the lyricist of society, speaking through the castrated eunychs.
I am Stephanie Myer, inspiration of vampiric genius to adolescent impressionables.
I am Jane Austen, author of new age thrillers such as The Secret and Lesbian Misérables
I am the eclipsing of twilight, the post-mortem autopsy of a rotting cadaver.
I am Heath Ledger and Michael Jackson, legends inspiring a race of sleeping pill grabbers.
I am the Blockbuster, the Titanic Avatar, $4.9 Billion to children in poverty.
I am Gangnam Style, 2.5 Billion viewers of the Palestinian Bombings.
I am modern philosophe, the birth giver of Socrates, Plato, Nietzsche, Derrida.
I am Steve Jobs, terrible father, tyrant and billionaire technological reliever.
I am God, the predeccesor and successor of all eternal life.
I am Satan, damnation and strife.
I am Tupac, rapper of gangster warfare. Inspirational to first world degenerates.
I am Oprah, most powerful black woman with white hillbilly aesthetics of Ellen Degeneres.
Thank you, to world's only true Genius.
Hail Kanye West, our one and only revered Yeezus.
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 4:18 AM UTC
now I, Anton, eldest and wisest,
I, nature-appointed leader by age and time,
I call this our first meeting to order
and each shall stand in silence as I read
out the rules and regulations
of this our BOYS ONLY order of OLD RUSSIA,
which I, as my first act as leader, shall name
the Anton Boys Only Group, the name obviously after myself…
And now, Artem stand still and stand at ease as Vladimir here is…
This pose with legs like a soldier's
and with hands at back, back in palm,
this is the way of the obedient follower
though I fear Artem may have a bit of Napoleon in him…
But Anton Boys Only Group we shall be
and in the streets we are destined to meet…
Now for the rules:
I am the leader and I’m always right;
you are the members of the group,
and you will always follow…
now, girls will not be allowed in this group
and no one is to come with any girls
here except me, with Galina once in a while
as she has recently been winking at me in class,
when I do attend class, that is,
and she has sent me notes
to meet her in the old shed past the fields
and once in a while, as I say,
she might be here on our way to said
location during which time
you will all keep guard
and remain as still as the Kremlin guards
or, as I’ve heard, the guards outside
****** England’s Buckingham palace.
Now, Viktor and Georgy, you are hereby fined five coins
for taking a casual attitude while I speak…
Artem, the tallest here after me,
you will be my bearer and cleaner
like carrying things I might have to carry
and dusting my coat before and after meetings
and for which I shall nominate you successor
should I run away with Galina to America…
We shall, however, always remain faithful to Mother Russia
and send you back information as and when necessary;
and also at each meeting, from hence,
each of you will bear gifts for the leader
(who, let me remind you, is myself)
like an apple, a tomato, eggs and sweets
and chicken pieces and such
as and when possible
but always at least one gift each
at each meeting as payment for the privilege
of my leadership;
and meetings will start promptly and be canceled as I wish;
and Vladimir and Bogdan and Andrey
you shall before each meeting, finish such field tasks
as my mother may have assigned me
and which I may then justly apportion to each one of you…
I do not anticipate any questions at this stage our first meeting
and so I announce this meeting over…
And Artem, you might want to dust the coat on my back…
but kindly do ensure your hands are clean first…
Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 5:47 PM UTC
Let go of the vile feeling inside
Allow the hooks in your skin to rip through
Let them bleed for awhile
Knowing your scar only proves victory
If your head sways let it hang low
But do not drop it
For it is your biggest successor
If your heart beats too fast
Like a machine gone wild
And your eyes tear up
From the cold breeze coming in
Put on another layer
Breathe a little deeper
Be safe inside your skin
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 5:57 PM UTC