"supported" poems
Someone just said something about me,
It’s starting to drive me crazy,
Oh please don’t make it start again,
This isn’t a feeling that can be supported by any men,
My thoughts are beginning to race,
At much too fast of a pace,
I keep trying to make it stop,
I can already feel myself drop,
It’s called anxiety,
Oh there goes gravity,
Here comes insanity,
And everyone’s pity,
I’m starting to lose control,
I can’t feel myself as a whole,
I need help,
I need help,
Here we go again,
I can’t wait for,
The moment when,
My head stops its own war,
It’s called anxiety,
It’s not ending anytime now,
It’s being juged in our society,
It’s not something we should allow,
It’s called anxiety,
Oh there goes gravity,
Here comes insanity,
And everyone’s pity
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 4:20 PM UTC
As the glorious LION
Stands strong in stature
Radiating with a presence
Of Absolute rule
The air washed with
A bristly respect
A natural pride
Beams with beauty
He guards the gateway to truth
and only the brave may enter
He is the king that needs no crown
as he holds a royal presence as he
sits in his golden coat and main
Lies spark combust just bounce off
dissolve in all his shine.
As broken men become renewed
Their fractured parts
Collect in the melting ***
Of the Lion's stare
As they are engulfed and swallowed
In the reservoirs of his strength
As the many wounded souls
Find themselves restored
In his majestic presence
As he rattles the very fabric
Of this world
There is no procrastinating belly
Exposed by a lackluster display
No one insults his strength
By creating a make believe world
Or covers him with scaffolding so
That they may alter him
For he is the finished article
And he is never held up or supported
With anyone's emotional ropes or strings
For he no ones puppet
He is never silenced
By the Strangle hold of this world
Tightened with a multitude of gestures
For I hear his ROAR!!!!!!!!
His explosive self expression
As his throat bursts and beams like the sun
Breaking all collars, and his tongue is freed
As a thousand trap doors Open up in him
And boulders are lifted and rocks are shattered
within the sound of his voice.
His Soft pads of silent stealth
Gather for all his wealth
As the power of his pounce
Is governed by both his strength
Of spirit and the honesty
With which he meets the earth
For he owns all of his own pain
And paces and growls to warn
Away any who seek to steal his fresh ****
And diminish him with pretty lies
For he owns all his space
As it feeds his strength
As somewhere in the fury of feasting
Lionesses and Lions
We find our freedom
For his power explodes like a volcano
When his soul meets the earth
As he shakes off all avoidance
To seek only truth
As streaks of white light
And pure Gold glisten in the SUN
As the world's projections
Reflect and bounce off him
There is so much to learn
From a beautiful LION
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
Many times I get asked what anime is. I wear anime t-shirts, I watch it with glee, I fantasize about it and have conversations about it as well. I go to conventions, I discuss it with my friends nitpicking at strong foes, and I even supported toonami coming back. Yet this question of what anime is always makes me pause. What is anime? I always think about it and I am always unsure of it. It's almost like theaters and movies, anime has many genres such as drama, romance, and even tragedy. Yet sometimes people argue that anime is nothing more than a cartoon. I could say that cartoons are only meant for kids but anime includes that as well. I could say anime has different art styles, but the same could be said for cartoons as well. I could say anime is more Japanese oriented but anime has no limitations. People question it however the same could be said of theater. Why do people love tragedy? Why do people wish to see a girl die from cancer? Why do people wish to see a couple being put through a lot? Why do people enjoy death? Anime has many genres like theater, anime has death, tragedy, and yes even **** Do not judge anime by it's differences, do not say it's simply a cartoon. Because to some people it is their theater, their muse, their life, and their dreams and inspirations.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 12:59 AM UTC
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
After days of long studies comes the
days of rest. My violet dreams were
slumber-soft filled with lucent lilies
of curling flames born of ever colour
known and unknown. And I stood
in awe of them as my fears fall back
and cower in the shades of my mind.
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
I muse at how quickly my body
relaxed. Due to my marjoram'd
pillows and sheets of pure silk
and eiderdown? Or due to the
sips of the lavender tea in my in
my teacup decorated with a
butterfly motif?
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
I remember the sips in fours as
I blew the steam from my cup;
The first sip balmed my lips.
The second soothed my throat.
The third lulled my thoughts.
The fourth stilled my soul.
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
Though the tea, the pillow and
sheets were had a hand in my nightly
rest, the real answer is on my brow -
for it was when the night's cool air
blew, and where you placed your
sweet Morphean kiss.
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
With a smile, I wake.
Sat on my golden summer throne
located in my marble gazebo; a
jewel in my private garden. With
thin caryatid pillars, draped in
fine doric chitons encircling me.
Their sculpted limbs hold up the
frieze carved with acanthus
that has a stained glass top of
peacocks and stargazers.
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
The sheer curtains billow when
the eastern winds blow. By me, a
gold side table with a mirrored top
supported by three Greek key legs.
A pewter quill pen with a steel nib
and violet feather rests by its clay
inkpot; both beside a silver sinuous
nouveau vase and a small stack of
poetry books of black leather and
gilt.
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 7:48 AM UTC
I have always liked,
Defiant Africans,
Nelson, Patrice, Kenyatta,
Martin Luther King,
Groovy black men,
******* with attitude,
But they intimidate me,
Black men.
Freedom fighters,
Bar room brawlers,
And I rise from sleep,
Sheened in sweat,
Running away,
Scribbling my number,
On scraps of paper,
On foreheads and trousers,
On outstretched palms,
And I’m breathing heavily,
Feeling stained,
Because,
That one there,
The white man in Navy uniform,
With hair on his *****
I know him,
-conquistador-
He smells of garlic and grease,
And my black friends call me,
****** ***** *****
Will he take the lion tooth offered,
Will he make the tribal dance?
-I can teach him to love the earth,
Teach him to plant his feet in, deep-
I ********** from sleep, supported
By thick, colonial, muscle.
I am forging steel,
Industrial iron,
I am engineering a white lover
Beneath the sheets, whilst
Apologising to freedom fighters,
Who call me ****** ***** *****
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 4:55 PM UTC
God. How am I still not okay?
God. It's been so long.
God. I'm so tired of life right now.
God. What happened to me?
I was such a nice kid.
I was calm all the time.
Mature for my age,
Little but so lively.
I was so helpful.
So loyal.
I always supported my trust.
But I never really spoke my mind.
I was shy.
I was small.
I never stood up for my feelings
I never stood up for myself.
And now I'm older.
I realize I don't need support.
I need myself.
I need confidence.
Speaking your mind is not wrong.
Standing up for your feelings isn't rude.
Standing up for yourself isn't mean.
Saying what you feel doesn't make you imperfect.
No one's perfect. Not even them.
The ones you hate for being so amazing.
Maybe she has anxiety.
Maybe his mom is alcoholic.
No one has a perfect life.
There's not one perfect family in the world.
There is not a person in the world who's perfect.
There's not a person who doesn't have one bit of strife.
But just because you aren't perfect.
Doesn't make you less worth it.
You're amazing.
You're still charming, kind, and strong.
You're just more experienced.
You just understand some more things now.
And maybe, just maybe,
You just aren't as shy anymore.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 4:17 PM UTC
Thoughts of cotton candy kiss laced with guilt.
Bubble gum wrapping the shame.
A deceit told through a mouth sewn closed.
But eyes held wide-shut.
A lie supported by another lie, bracing itself before falling.
Should I let the guilt be known through a cotton candy kiss?
Let the bubble gum wrapper shunt my shame.
Will I hold our secret behind stitched sewn lips?
All the while, holding my eyes wide shut?
Could I support this burden, bracing it with another lie?
Before I let it slip and fall?
A dangerous dance our feet have started,
where it goes I am not for certain...
A wicked path we've lain before us.
where it goes I am not for certain...
An affair of just wanting,
but nothing of taking.
Where this is leading I am not for certain.
For: where I hope we are going,
Well now,
that is another matter all together.
Fin
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 4:56 AM UTC
The home in which I grew
Where I was taught to do that which I should
Was held together by love
And everything that's good
It's floors were supported strong
By tenderness and caring
And it's roof was held in place
By the gentle act of sharing
It's walls stood strong and firm
Never were they shaken
Strength is gained by what you give
Not by what you have taken
A home is so much more
Than wood and nails and stone
It is made of truth, love, caring and sharing
These things , they make a house a home
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 4:43 PM UTC
Even in her absence
I had a goal.
Changing me didn't
Just happen,
For she had already
Robbed my senses
Then I tamed her .
She supported me
Even when I was wrong
She saw the best in me
And calls me her hope,
Her hardwork ;
Speaks you as a pillar
Behind her brightness
I know am an amateur
In your presence
But my blood is serviced
By courage to have
Make nothing but a
Chain of victory
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 3:49 PM UTC
120 seconds.
2 minutes.
That is all it took to change my life,
to shatter my heart,
to take my childhood.
Locked between four walls,
stuffed between forgotten papers and books,
I was made prey for my once trusted predator.
Now I understand that I have never stepped outside of those walls.
Those walls have taken refuge around my heart,
and surrounded my mind.
They have preserved the initial scars,
and have supported the hatred, sadness, and pity for the hunter and hunted.
These walls have held me up until now.
Life without them seems intangible,
treacherous.
They protect me from another life-changing two minutes,
but they also shield me from the light.
I want that light.
I want that freedom.
I want to live.
Every nail that I remove leaves a scar,
every board I break off makes me vulnerable,
but I think it is time.
My heart needs room to grow,
and my mind needs to learn to trust,
to trust that life is worth living,
to trust that life can be kind,
to trust that I am worth it.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 6:27 PM UTC
I go to the door often.
Night and summer. Crickets
lift their cries.
I know you are out.
You are driving
late through the summer night.
I do not know what will happen.
I have no claim on you.
I am one star
you have as guide; others
love you, the night
so dark over the Azores.
You have been working outdoors,
gone all week. I feel you
in this lamp lit
so late. As I reach for it
I feel myself
driving through the night.
I love a firmness in you
that disdains the trivial
and regains the difficult.
You become part then
of the firmness of night,
the granite holding up walls.
There were women in Egypt who
supported with their firmness the stars
as they revolved,
hardly aware
of the passage from night
to day and back to night.
I love you where you go
through the night, not swerving,
clear as the indigo
bunting in her flight,
passing over two
thousand miles of ocean.
11.1k
En l’an trentiesme do mon aage
Que toutes mes hontes j’ay beues…
Pipit sate upright in her chair
Some distance from where I was sitting;
Views of the Oxford Colleges
Lay on the table, with the knitting.
Daguerreotypes and silhouettes,
Her grandfather and great great aunts,
Supported on the mantelpiece
An Invitation to the Dance.
. . . . .
I shall not want Honour in Heaven
For I shall meet Sir Philip Sidney
And have talk with Coriolanus
And other heroes of that kidney.
I shall not want Capital in Heaven
For I shall meet Sir Alfred Mond.
We two shall lie together, lapt
In a five per cent. Exchequer Bond.
I shall not want Society in Heaven,
Lucretia Borgia shall be my Bride;
Her anecdotes will be more amusing
Than Pipit’s experience could provide.
I shall not want Pipit in Heaven:
Madame Blavatsky will instruct me
In the Seven Sacred Trances;
Piccarda de Donati will conduct me.
. . . . .
But where is the penny world I bought
To eat with Pipit behind the screen?
The red-eyed scavengers are creeping
From Kentish Town and Golder’s Green;
Where are the eagles and the trumpets?
Buried beneath some snow-deep Alps.
Over buttered scones and crumpets
Weeping, weeping multitudes
Droop in a hundred A.B.C.’s
10.6k
The Red Rain of Kerala wrote this Plague
Un-supported by Evidence and Song
As it wept and bled that once-thirsty Plain
Locals knew their throats will not dry too long
But how could they drink this very strange Guilt
When their Sheets un-furled like the Flags of War
And not until the Google-Heads came in
They realised it was foreign before
Samples were taken in pursuit of Cause
Then page by page those Suspects came to light
Was it Bacteria? Or Lichens-at-Lost
Either way there was some Blood to incite.
When those Findings end, much was to conclude
Which Creation's Purchase falls upon you.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 4:16 PM UTC
In nineteen hundred forty-nine
China was won by Mao Tse-tung
Chiang Kai-shek's army ran away
They were waiting there in Thailand yesterday
Supported by the CIA
Pushing junk down Thailand way
First they stole from the Meo Tribes
Up in the hills they started taking bribes
Then they sent their soldiers up to Shan
Collecting ***** to send to The Man
Pushing junk in Bangkok yesterday
Supported by the CIA
Brought their jam on mule trains down
To Chiang Rai that's a railroad town
Sold it next to the police chief brain
He took it to town on the choochoo train
Trafficking dope to Bangkok all day
Supported by the CIA
The policeman's name was Mr. Phao
He peddled dope grand scale and how
Chief of border customs paid
By Central Intelligence's U.S. A.I.D.
The whole operation, Newspapers say
Supported by the CIA
He got so sloppy & peddled so loose
He busted himself & cooked his own goose
Took the reward for an ***** load
Seizing his own haul which same he resold
Big time pusher for a decade turned grey
Working for the CIA
Touby Lyfong he worked for the French
A big fat man liked to dine & *****
Prince of the Meos he grew black mud
Till ***** flowed through the land like a flood
Communists came and chased the French away
So Touby took a job with the CIA
The whole operation fell in to chaos
Till U.S. Intelligence came into Laos
I'll tell you no lie I'm a true American
Our big pusher there was Phoumi Nosovan
All them Princes in a power play
But Phoumi was the man for the CIA
And his best friend General Vang Pao
Ran the Meo army like a sacred cow
Helicopter smugglers filled Long Cheng's bars
In Xieng Quang province on the Plain of Jars
It started in secret they were fighting yesterday
Clandestine secret army of the CIA
All through the Sixties the Dope flew free
Thru Tan Son Nhut Saigon to Marshal Ky
Air America followed through
Transporting confiture for President Thieu
All these Dealers were decades and yesterday
The Indochinese mob of the U.S. CIA
Operation Haylift Offisir Wm. Colby
Saw Marshal Ky fly ***** Mr. Mustard told me
Indochina desk he was Chief of ***** Tricks
"Hitchhiking" with dope pushers was how he got his fix
Subsidizing traffickers to drive the Reds away
Till Colby was the head of the CIA
January 1972
10.1k
When the fire grabbed his body, it didn't happen by degrees.
There was no burst of heat before,
or giant wave of smothering smoke
and the feeling of a spare room one wants to escape to.
The fire held him at once
—there are no metaphors for this—
it peeled off his clothes
cleaved to his flesh.
The skin nerves were the first to be touched.
The hair was consumed.
"God! They are burning!" he shouted.
And that is all he could do in self-defense.
The flesh was already burning between the shack's boards
that fed the fire in the first stage.
There was already no consciousness in him.
The fire burning his flesh
numbed his sense of future
and the memories of his family
and he had no more ties to his childhood
and he didn't ask for revenge, salvation,
or to see the dawn of the next day.
He just wanted to stop burning.
But his body supported the conflagration
and he was as if bound and fettered,
and of that too he did not think.
And he continued to burn by the power of his body
made of hair and wax and tendons.
And he burned a long time.
And from his throat inhuman voices issued
for many of his human functions had already ceased,
except for the pain the nerves transmitted
in electric impulses
to the pain center in the brain,
and that didn't last longer than a day.
And it was good that his soul was freed that day
because he deserved to rest.
Translated from the original Hebrew by Karen Alkalay-Gut.
8.7k
Dancing under this beautiful moonlight
My wings brought us high as the mountains could reach;
Listening to the songs of the wind whispering in our ears;
As the stars illuminated us with its light
And through our hearts beats in unison
Our love grew strong as time passed;
For I looking in your ever green eyes shines
Our memories, our histories of hardships
Like raging waves of ocean's wrath upon us;
Like you looking in my ever violet eyes
Brings back memories of how we hold our hands
Under those cherry blossoms in spring's time
Of the time we survived the stormy seas;
Of us looking up in the night's sky starry view
And of us looking through our own breath in the winter's cold night
Like you said "you are my darkness and i am your light"
It is a fate of two lovely souls of opposites
Truly one and extraordinary yet never old;
Yet the story of our love was heard from the heavens and hell
Eldest, my master, the God of Gods was disgraced;
Hades, your father, the king of the underworld was disgusted;
For I an angel, a guardian of Eldest's kingdom
Fell in love with the darkness' son;
Our love caused chaos and wrath in the heaven's peace;
And made hell burn a thousand times its self in anger;
Eldest, whom was displease, cast my death
Upon my soul and separated us with his command
Like I, a flower dying with its own roots
Withered and had slowly losing its own life;
Yet as we stand forth and supported each other
Our hearts connected even after death's command
As the reaper stand and awaits to take your soul,
To take you back to the place you belong;
There is nothing we could do but accept this inevitable
As our beating crimson heart cries silently;
For even the Wraths and the Gods do us apart
Our fathers and masters hated this love;
Like the night meets the light at dawn;
Our souls will find its way back in each others arm;
Even us can not cease this burning desire
To never let go of our ties;
In this world or in our illusions
It is our story worth dying with;
Even the history goes on, we shall live in eternity
As the story of the night that meets the light at dawn.
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 6:28 AM UTC
When children are abused I cant help but feel so bad and cry for them. When children are abused they dont know what is happening especially if its your own parents or parent. They dont know because of the shock and **** they are going through. All they know at that moment is that they are getting yelled or or getting charged at and they know they are going to be beaten with something. They have the shock and there heart is racing very fast. They dont know whats going to happen next they dont know if they are going be in horrific pain to the piont they cant move or not. All they know what to do is do exactly do what the person is doing to them what they say with out answer anything but yes and do it. If they dont there will be more horrific pain. With all this happening to them knowing that right then all they feel is physical pain. Later in life they figure out that it wasn't just physical it was emotional and mental to. How was it mental and emotional by knowing that there own parent or parents did that to them. It haunts them for the rest of their lifes more so if it happens more then once. It makes them feel like they can never trust anybody in there lifes ever again. They build a wall up and dont let alot of people in because they are afraid of getting hurt again. Most kids end up in fostercare for what there parents did to them. So when they are there in the fostercare home do you think they feel safe and happy? If you thought yes you are wrong they are more scared then ever because they have strangers around them and no one they know. The foster parents may say your safe and hug you but you still dont feel safe and loved because they dont have people around them that they know love them. Most of the time they just want there parents although they just got abused and but through all that pain. Its becuase most of the time they are not themselves. They are either drunk or high. The kids know that and they know that there parents must be nice when they are sober becuase they have seen there friends parents nice to them. When children are being abused when they are young they most likely dont ever wanna go home they want to be at school or somewhere they are happy. When all that is taken away from them all they want to be is home in the abusive place becuase thats where they realized was the most comforting safest place is at home in there room. Most of the time its either friends or a sibling that calls the police becuase thats all they know what to do. Usally its a sibling that is either scared and wants help or is treated better then the one that is getting abused. If the child that goes away to a foster home with out a sibling. She is more likely to get scared and put a shield up towards anybody that she doesnt know and trust. She most likely wont talk to anybody. She will cry most of the day because she feels like she is alone and doesn't have anyone around her. Even when the other foster kids and parents are there and willing to calm her down and comfort her. She wont let them because she wants someone she can trust and she knows to calm her down and comfort her and hold her. The simple words coming out of someone they knows mouth "Its going to be ok I am here for you to hold you comfort you to calm you down when you are upset." Those simple words to a child meen the world to them when they got abused and are taken away from the situation. Those words may seem nothing to you but to that child it meens everything more then you can imagine unless you went through it. You went through it like me I wrote this because I know people that have got abused just like me. I wrote this because I know how it feels to be be abused by your parents and then feel like you have no one until those words are said then you feel like you have someone. That its going to be ok and someone is finally going to treat you the you deserved to be treated loved cared for and supported no matter what you do in life. When you have the right people in your life you dont realize what your life was like back then until you have the right people in your life and they show you the true meening of life happiness and love and trust. Although you have the happiness love and trust your past abuse or abuses still are there for the rest of your life. Its ok though because you know what not to do to your children and what to do to your children. You can raise them right by showing them you care love and want happiness for them and they can always trust you for anything. If its for those special words of if its for adivce. They will always know you are there for them no matter what. even if you think they dont because they are doing something you dont like they still love care and want happiness for you. So what you can do is stop child abuse from happening with your kids!!!!
Feb 5, 2011
Feb 5, 2011 at 10:22 PM UTC
Its in these waters, when I was merely a Parr
Or as you might refer to me as a fry,
This wise but young Brook Trout cruised the slow water with my kinfolk fry.
Moving to and fro hiding among the biome vegetation
The sunlight supported my living space and warmed my growth rings.
I dart in and out of the oxygenated seams which help me flourish.
Some days, I had to use stealth to outwit the pine marten and warblers,
I shadowed the cattail and watched them fill their bellies with those around me.
But I felt fate had a purpose for me to be something special.
And When the time was right, I'd propel myself above the water into the night air.
The large circle of orange light filled my eyes and the night sky was filled with luminary.
I imagined what it must be like to live outside this riffle domain.
This morning, through my refractory vision I spot some floating objects,
And through an inherited sensory recall I can see these are hatching green Drakes.
I immediately shoot to the surface and fill my stomach, then swim back to the undercut for cover.
As the years pass by and maturity abounds, I find my self settling in behind a large boulder
Right at the tail out of the back eddy, providing me with an ample food supply.
And it's here I prefer to live my life in the slow current, content and peaceful.
And one day as I swam into the current seam, I spotted what appeared to be,
A different looking bug with yellow belly, so I make my move.
He's not moving much so I decide to raise my head above the water line and sip.
As I grab the hopper I start to slide back behind the boulder,
When I feel a pinch, as if someone try's to pull me towards the surface
I fight with all my might but this force proves to be stronger than I.
It's now I realize a human reels me towards the shore line, and I'm fearful.
This one called a human, grabs my tail and places his hand on my under belly.
Pulling me from my home, he dislodges the hook from my mouth. I gasp for oxygen.
He looks me over from nose to tail, smiles and says how beautiful I am.
He looks me in the eye And says " This was a wonderful fight my friend, enjoy the rest of your life,
He places me back in water, gently reviving me and finally lets me swim away.
I dare to turn and look back at him for a moment and as he continues to watch me,
I hear him say " I fish, knowing everyday on this stream is a gift."
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 3:59 PM UTC
Life reduced to a ticking clock,
As shriveled men desperately clasp
To slick tomes filled with diagrams
Of shadowy glass towers, convoluted machines
And factories with a singular purpose:
To manufacture their own existence.
The Plague spreads to druidic forests
Where those who simply existed
Overcome with glutinous ambition
Demolish those majestic columns
Which supported equilibrium
While the world gleefully cheers.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
Dear Poet Friends, Here is a poem by a young Canadian poet named Darien, which I found while browsing the Net! I would like to share this with you as a prelude to my poem about the 'Rise of The Third Reich', - which I hope to post on this Site shortly. Thanks, - Raj Nandy, New Delhi
World War II - ADOLF ******
by DARIEN, Aug 21, 2006
Austria raised a man so vile and vicious
His life was dark, callous and malicious
Passions of hatred engraved in his mind
As he plotted to create his own mankind
A soldier for Germany in World War One
War to end all wars had only just begun
The National Socialist Party appeared fast
Their numbers grew rapidly as time passed
Charismatic oratory and propaganda his tool
False promises made, people he would fool
Were Nazis the one to bring hope? Perhaps
Without their help Germany would collapse
The Reichstag Fire would be a stepping stone
Germany's President died, he took the throne
He became the fuhrer leader of all Germany
And would start the worst war of the century
War had been started with a Nazi-Soviet pact
Together with Russia, Poland they attacked
England and France were not ready for war
Marching of Nazis soldiers was not ignored.
Mussolini became his ally and supported him
For all other countries their chances were slim
Many countries were defeated in a few days
the Fascist and Nazis would give him praise
Blitzkrieg was a strategy that worked most
In defeating all his enemies he came close
The Nazis would spread all across Europe
But it would be at Stalingrad they would stop
Communist regimes were one group he did hate
Yet it was the Jews he would try to annihilate
In all cruelty, bloodshed, war would soon end
There was still so much for people to defend
On V-Day he saw all his armies demolished
****** and fascism in Europe was abolished
World War Two ended the areas were secure
From that evil, monstrous beast Adolf ******
- By Darien. (Canada)
..........................................................................
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
It has been a tough month.
With health issues, school difficulties
and do not even mention family problems...
So there has been some triggers
and it is just been stressful.
I have been pretty depressed
and feeling very vulnerable
and really wanting to cut.
I feel really like I have to act like everything is fine
and cannot talk about the things that are bothering me
with the people who I would really just like to talk about it with.
Which kind of leaves me feeling
hurt and resentful and
not wanting to trust.
I feel like asking for help is so difficult
and you can only do it so many times
and be rejected before you just take on this attitude of fine
**I do not need your help anyway -
I do not actually need anyone's help
and I will manage perfectly fine on my own.**
Except that is not how it works, you do not manage perfectly fine.
You try harder at not feeling feelings
IRONIC
being that feelings were something you worked so hard to feel!
you start not talking about anything that even remotely bothers you,
you put a band-aid on everything you are struggling with
and act like things are OK
when in fact, on the inside,
you are screaming and wishing,
hoping that someone would hear you.
Enter more hurt and resentment
.
It is just really difficult
**I simply want to feel
heard
supported
loved.**
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 5:54 PM UTC
Woof.....woof.....woof...woof....woof....wooof
Some Red setters dogs are eating Jewish people
in England
But why, do call them off, they are british people,
The are hard working, Industrious, Entrepreneurs,
Professors, Doctors, Lawyers, Bankers, Entertainers
Scientists, Writers, eminent Surgeons, Artists, these
are nice Britons....stop the dogs, stop the dogs.....
Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof woof
Some Red Setters dogs are eating and biting some
Labour MPs all over the country
But why, do call off the dogs, No! we have a list and this list, highlighted the behaviour of a number of Left MPs, including Jess Phillips for telling Corbyn’s ally Diane Abbott to **** off”, John Woodcock for dismissing the party leader as a ******* disaster” and Tristram Hunt for describing Labour as “in the ****
and all the other hard working Moderate MPs who dared protest at Anti-Semitic stance or supported the Jews .
Woof.....woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof
Some Red Setters dogs are devouring some minor
Royal from Africa
But why, do call off the dogs. No that ****** has a big **** he's
Charismatic, intelligent, wholesome, has good work ethics, polite,
wise, charming, generous, witty and a ****** good lover and to top it all he's Royal. Now that's ******* GREEDY, how much can a
******* man have. NO! he's a goner. He is too perfect, he must be hounded and persecuted to death.
Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof.....woof.......woof
Grrr.....woof.....Grrrrr....woof...wooof...Grrrr....wooof
Congratulations People, we have got rid of them all
we now have real democracy, we have a real society now
Get in the dogs ... And all you useless ******* people shut up!
And report to the Labor Camps 7:30a.m. tomorrow
You're Working Class and now you ****** have to work!
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
I hate when I have to tell stories about you
people ask how you were
I get so fired up every time I have to tell someone
I tell them how I was terrified
how you would scream and swear at me almost every night
but all I ever did was give you everything you ever wanted.
night after night I would force myself to keep you happy so you wouldn't yell.
I even had to keep it a secret so I wouldn't loose what I now hold so dear to myself.
after your "incident" you said it was all out of "love"
bull. ****
You tried to force me to like the things you like
think the way you think
basically change everything that I enjoyed and you despised.
Any time I hear certain words that you've found funny
I immediately tell that person to never say it around me again.
Events that you've found "funny" ******* scared me and all you did was laugh.
Any time you were ******* left out of any ******* joke you pulled me to the side
asking why you were left out.
did you ever figure it was because YOU'RE ******* IMMATURE?
You said that every girl before me left and never supported you.
Maybe they got out of there fast once they realized how you are.
Getting away was the absolute best thing I have done
but almost everyday I have this small outburst of anger
cringing and wanting to tell you to your face how messed up you are.
how much you've messed me up.
you changed, you changed real bad.
everyone is pulling away
all because of you
**** you little boy blue
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
I cherish my freedom
Hard earned though it was
Through the abolitionist railway
And those who supported the cause
An African slave,
though free upon birth
I was sold as a slave
And was now bound to the earth
Run for the caves boy
Run for the caves
Run for your freedom
Or die here a slave
Run for the caves boy
Run for the caves
Run for your freedom
Or die here a slave
Late in the dark
I heard of the routes
To the new land of freedom
I was resolute
I would run for my life
Leave my family behind
I would run for the caves
And the new life I'd find
Bound to plantation
I was just something to trade
I would run for my freedom
The decision was made
From South Carolina
I'd head to the coast
I'd run for my freedom
I'd then be a ghost
Follow the signs
That was all that I heard
They know you are coming
Just remember the word
Stray from the darkness
A dead slave you will be
With the last thought you'll have
That you'll never die free
Boats on the seacoast
Up to Salem they sail
Look for the sign
And remember the trail
Make for the caves
They'll find you where
The water is highest
They'll come get you there
From there up to Salem
And one more step to go
Stick with the railroad
The way that they know
Make way when the moon
Is down low in the sky
If you're found in the meantime
It's a fact you will die
Freedom is costly
But, it is within reach
Make for the caves
At the north end of the beach
From New England go on
to the north or the west
Both spell out freedom
The end of your quest
Don't look over your shoulder
just follow the signs
They know you are coming
stay deep in the pines
Remember all those
Who have made Freeman Cave
Follow their symbols
And don't die a slave
There are people who will
Help you free from the strife
But, for now find the caves
And son, run for your life....
Run for the caves boy
Run for the caves
Run for your freedom
Or die here a slave
Run for the caves boy
Run for the caves
Run for your freedom
Or die here a slave
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
Betrayal hurts
It's the feeling a person gives you when they hurt you intentionally
It's the feeling he gave me 15 minutes ago
It's the feelings that's going to make me not love you anymore
It's the feelings that I've losed for you
I'm done with you have a nice life
I supported everything you did
Just to have betrayal knocking on my front door
Remember that karma is a *****
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC