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"swerve" poems
The difference between actions and habits,      is often measured by the person you're asking.   One bump, one line, one half ounce . . . All shared by people you don't even give a **** about. These chemicals make me sick --               Limitless . . . Why quit?               When it's only ten bucks for a hit like this? Even Jesus Christ would have gotten addicted,               if drugs in his day were half this good. "Yeah, I'm smashed -- but I promise I can drive fine."       Walk and push the limits of a real fine line... If I don't **** myself, or someone else . . . I'm happy.        Stare death in his eyes, wink, and start laughing. Gasping as I swerve lanes -- Stay safe, get paid. Mundane daily. Living a-live . . . Eat. Sleep. Dream. Get laid.   Chase feelings.            *Please, just feel me now.                                     You know me, right?            Please, just feel me now.                                     You love me, right?* I want to melt with you -- let our souls collide . . . Dissolve the boundaries between students and teachers.         To bridge the gap in the great divide         No secrets between us -- bleed into the speakers. Feel the air in your chest, and ask God for a reason To stay or leave Him. He makes excuses . . .                                                     . . . Believe Him.
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Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 10:07 AM UTC
Limits of A Real Fine Line
The difference between actions and habits,      is often measured by the person you're asking.   One bump, one line, one half ounce . . . All shared by people you don't even give a **** about. These chemicals make me sick --               Limitless . . . Why quit?               When it's only ten bucks for a hit like this? Even Jesus Christ would have gotten addicted,               if drugs in his day were half this good. "Yeah, I'm smashed -- but I promise I can drive fine."       Walk and push the limits of a real fine line... If I don't **** myself, or someone else . . . I'm happy.        Stare death in his eyes, wink, and start laughing. Gasping as I swerve lanes -- Stay safe, get paid. Mundane daily. Living a-live . . . Eat. Sleep. Dream. Get laid.   Chase feelings.            *Please, just feel me now.                                     You know me, right?            Please, just feel me now.                                     You love me, right?* I want to melt with you -- let our souls collide . . . Dissolve the boundaries between students and teachers.         To bridge the gap in the great divide         No secrets between us -- bleed into the speakers. Feel the air in your chest, and ask God for a reason To stay or leave Him. He makes excuses . . .                                                     . . . Believe Him.
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30
Most of the times, I feel, that you and I, my darling, redefine our love on Saturday nights. Saturday nights, when the sound of our heartbeats mixes with the wine. When you swerve your hips, to the tunes on the old gramophone. When every streetlight seems like a shooting star. Passionate, wild, mad, in it's very essence. Chaotic, extraordinary and beautiful, define you, my love. You breathtakingly naked and beautiful soul, is the gateway to the Universe. Swooning and high off your fragrance, all I want to do is make love with you, till the yearning moon gives way to the jealous sun.
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Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
Saturday.
right now there are eleven empty containers of alcohol in my bedroom, but it's fine, i'm fine. i've been telling myself for more than a year that i wasn't going to write anymore sad ****** poems about you, but here we are. most days i'm sure i don't miss you, but then i listen to the wrong song, and before i know it - i'm screaming along to band of horses in the dark, stalking your twitter favorites, and somehow, i've managed to get snot on my forehead. yeah, nostalgia is an ******* but not all the memories sting. there was that one time we went to the movies and i slipped on some ice and fell flat on my *** i just sat there while you took a picture. but i'm glad we could laugh about it. i'm glad we were comfortable. in my head, we still are. in my head, we're oversized-goodwill-sweater comfortable. we aren't as comfortable in real life but i'm glad we still laugh. this is the part where i don't bring up the time you told me my laughter could cure your sadness, because i'm pretty sure i already put that in another poem, and it makes me really ******* sad. did i ever tell you i used to play guitar and piano? i loved them, but i never tried very hard. i wanted to be good without having to practice. i wanted to be good without having to practice. i wanna meet the girl you write about so i can ask her how she manages not to love you back. because i've tried everything & i am so tired. i forgot this wasn't supposed to be a sad poem. i'm not good at happy anyway, i never have been. but in your absence i've learned a lot about softness. so if i ever find myself back in your passenger seat, i won't correct you when you sing the wrong lyrics, i won't ask why when you take the long way home. i won't ask you why you don't have your seatbelt on, i'll just say a silent prayer and watch for signs that you might be about to swerve. right now there are eleven empty containers of alcohol in my bedroom, and i didn't find you at the bottom of a single one. - m.f.
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Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 11:54 PM UTC
leftovers
right now there are eleven empty containers of alcohol in my bedroom, but it's fine, i'm fine. i've been telling myself for more than a year that i wasn't going to write anymore sad ****** poems about you, but here we are. most days i'm sure i don't miss you, but then i listen to the wrong song, and before i know it - i'm screaming along to band of horses in the dark, stalking your twitter favorites, and somehow, i've managed to get snot on my forehead. yeah, nostalgia is an ******* but not all the memories sting. there was that one time we went to the movies and i slipped on some ice and fell flat on my *** i just sat there while you took a picture. but i'm glad we could laugh about it. i'm glad we were comfortable. in my head, we still are. in my head, we're oversized-goodwill-sweater comfortable. we aren't as comfortable in real life but i'm glad we still laugh. this is the part where i don't bring up the time you told me my laughter could cure your sadness, because i'm pretty sure i already put that in another poem, and it makes me really ******* sad. did i ever tell you i used to play guitar and piano? i loved them, but i never tried very hard. i wanted to be good without having to practice. i wanted to be good without having to practice. i wanna meet the girl you write about so i can ask her how she manages not to love you back. because i've tried everything & i am so tired. i forgot this wasn't supposed to be a sad poem. i'm not good at happy anyway, i never have been. but in your absence i've learned a lot about softness. so if i ever find myself back in your passenger seat, i won't correct you when you sing the wrong lyrics, i won't ask why when you take the long way home. i won't ask you why you don't have your seatbelt on, i'll just say a silent prayer and watch for signs that you might be about to swerve. right now there are eleven empty containers of alcohol in my bedroom, and i didn't find you at the bottom of a single one. - m.f.
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47
Why, oh, why did you lie? You've killed the happy little girl inside. Every little thing, oh every little thing. It has my skin crawling, and the hospital doors bing. Another scratch, another scar, this is just a normal day. When with every little good thing, there's Hell to pay. A rope around my neck, you wouldn't care, so I guess I'll just jump and get out of your hair. Time to say goodbye, so this is goodbye! Sister get that tear out your eye. When bad people die, there is no need to cry. They're going to Hell to live with their own kind. Oh what, you ask, am I one of them? Darling didn't you know, of course I am. Never been a girl to really deserve, isn't that why love told me to swerve? If I had to die in this life, I'd say "baby please bring out the knife. A little slice here and there, Oh lookie here, now you care." Why is it that after we're dead, people pay attention to the little things we said. Baby **** me now, **** me now, Momma aren't you proud? Little girl isn't hiding behind the couch. She's in the tub waiting to drown. Papa, papa don't you miss me? We haven't talked since I was three. You abandon me, so I'll abandon you. Isn't this good ol' life just cruel? Hello, hello! It's nice to meet you! Don't worry, I'll be gone soon. Don't go behind my back, look where I'm at. Baby, I'm not going to last. Go ahead and talk all your trash, call me ugly, stupid, and horrendously fat. They call me strong, but now you see the inside. Can't you see how they are wrong? The pain is in the eyes. Hey, hey, hey, hey, Girl you're going the wrong way. Won't you stay? Not one more day. Drowning in the deep blue sea, where is me? The words you say, stabbing my heart, I guess this is where we part. Time to say goodbye, so this is goodbye! Sister get that tear out your eye. When bad people die, there is no need to cry. They're going to Hell to live with their own kind.
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May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
Goodnight, Goodbye
Why, oh, why did you lie? You've killed the happy little girl inside. Every little thing, oh every little thing. It has my skin crawling, and the hospital doors bing. Another scratch, another scar, this is just a normal day. When with every little good thing, there's Hell to pay. A rope around my neck, you wouldn't care, so I guess I'll just jump and get out of your hair. Time to say goodbye, so this is goodbye! Sister get that tear out your eye. When bad people die, there is no need to cry. They're going to Hell to live with their own kind. Oh what, you ask, am I one of them? Darling didn't you know, of course I am. Never been a girl to really deserve, isn't that why love told me to swerve? If I had to die in this life, I'd say "baby please bring out the knife. A little slice here and there, Oh lookie here, now you care." Why is it that after we're dead, people pay attention to the little things we said. Baby **** me now, **** me now, Momma aren't you proud? Little girl isn't hiding behind the couch. She's in the tub waiting to drown. Papa, papa don't you miss me? We haven't talked since I was three. You abandon me, so I'll abandon you. Isn't this good ol' life just cruel? Hello, hello! It's nice to meet you! Don't worry, I'll be gone soon. Don't go behind my back, look where I'm at. Baby, I'm not going to last. Go ahead and talk all your trash, call me ugly, stupid, and horrendously fat. They call me strong, but now you see the inside. Can't you see how they are wrong? The pain is in the eyes. Hey, hey, hey, hey, Girl you're going the wrong way. Won't you stay? Not one more day. Drowning in the deep blue sea, where is me? The words you say, stabbing my heart, I guess this is where we part. Time to say goodbye, so this is goodbye! Sister get that tear out your eye. When bad people die, there is no need to cry. They're going to Hell to live with their own kind.
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62
Long nights, Party lights, Way to get it started. Blurred sight, Drinks taste alright, Away the car parted. Deer in the headlights, Swerve to the right, Many trees uncharted. Prayers recite, Skull and dashboard unite, There his soul departed.
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Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
One Too Many
The fiery red light was staring into my soul. There was nobody around... So naturally I hit the gas. Looked up in that rear view and some crazy blue lights were ashinin'. Then came my swerve of shame to the beckoning curb. My friend to the right kept his cool While mowing down on two cheese burgers As he ate, I shook with a casual fear. The talk with the police was brief I handed him my license and registration and he skipped back over to that cop car. I sat in fear he ate burgers we waited My boy the police came right on back. he gave me the blissful news. NO TICKET. He began the lecture of eating and driving. that's when my little burger eater chimed right in. "Sir, I was just handing her a pickle" I confirmed the statement. And next thing I knew I was rollin the streets again Lucked out.
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Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
Cops and burgers
Jim’s younger sister Followed you everywhere and stood watching as you rode the old car around the field or whizzed around on their motorbike to the cheers and shouts from the fence Monica why don’t you go off and play Jim said yes said Pete her other brother go play with your dolls go take a run and jump she said and still stood watching you her eyes fixed on you like wasps on a jam jar I want to watch him ride she said and stood with her hands on her hips waiting until you stopped the bike and got off and wandered over to you and said I like the way you ride like how you sway and swerve on the bike and you smiled at her and took in her short stature her dark eyes her determined expression and as Pete rode off on the bike and Jim stood on the fence calling to him Monica put her hand in yours and said wish you were my brother I know you’d let me ride the bike or car and not tease me or bawl me out I guess I would let you ride the bike or car you said and sensed her small hand in yours her thumb rubbing against your skin but seeing as you’re not my brother she whispered maybe you could marry me one day and we could ride off into the sunset like they do in the movies in Jim’s old car yes sure maybe you said knowing inside that’d be a bridge too far.
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Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 3:56 PM UTC
AFTER THE BIKE RIDE.
Will it last? he says. Is it a masterpiece? Will generation after generation Turn with reverence to the page? Birdseye scholar of the frozen fish, What would he make of the sole, clean, clear Leap of the salmon that has disappeared? To be, yes!—whether they like it or not! But not to last when leap and water are forgotten, A plank of standard pinkness in the dish. They also live Who swerve and vanish in the river.
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4.6k
The Snowflake Which Is Now And Hence Forever
I've been running on empty Skipping on dregs Cycling on morsels Jumping on egg shells It's time to recoup regroup   renew, restore, build more reserves Surrender to slumber And swerve Away from activity Simply pause, And deeply breathe.
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May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
Burnout
A swerve and crumple the too-low Miata meeting the steel of a semi's rear. top speed impatience becomes a mangled massacre of twisted plastic and metal. Bone just powder in a pillow of pink red-streaked pulverized flesh. my jaw agape as I pass too slow- existential dread is the hand contorted upward a few fingers missing or lost in the mass- A horn brings me back. People too late to care. I contemplate stopping but I'm late too- and there's nothing to salvage for me here.
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Oct 28, 2020
Oct 28, 2020 at 11:37 PM UTC
Mangled
Cold white layers pile over the grey concrete I did not expect the storm but I Needed to face the journey Someday We knew it could not last forever And in that moment An accident in my vision, Maybe the music screaming into my ear Distracted me from the obvious truth that lie Just through the windowpane Leading to a collision straight into reality Your words, the concrete divider That hit hard enough to take deep damage Yet not hard enough to stop me from moving forward The unexpected truth that came at the least expected moment My ignorance overlooked the obvious signs That i could not stay safe forever Not at the speed we drove.. My skin hugged my knuckles tightly Enough to match the descending snow As I knew from the first swerve Your first word That inevitable fate I surely faced Death loomed close in my mind But I drove on Grabbed the wheel and forced my way through The place where I felt nearest to the grave Until I reached a safe enough space to see for myself Just how much damage I endured And, like my car, I am totaled Broken into pieces that cannot be reframed Some lost at the point of collision Others gradually passing over time And some still holding on In the eyes of an astonished mechanic The car shouldn't even start And according to everyone else I should be dead But I'm not And though neither the car Or my own life will ever fully return to their original condition We still drive on Moving forward on the unpredictable Icy Deadly Highway of life
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Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 3:28 AM UTC
The Impossible Survivior
Cold white layers pile over the grey concrete I did not expect the storm but I Needed to face the journey Someday We knew it could not last forever And in that moment An accident in my vision, Maybe the music screaming into my ear Distracted me from the obvious truth that lie Just through the windowpane Leading to a collision straight into reality Your words, the concrete divider That hit hard enough to take deep damage Yet not hard enough to stop me from moving forward The unexpected truth that came at the least expected moment My ignorance overlooked the obvious signs That i could not stay safe forever Not at the speed we drove.. My skin hugged my knuckles tightly Enough to match the descending snow As I knew from the first swerve Your first word That inevitable fate I surely faced Death loomed close in my mind But I drove on Grabbed the wheel and forced my way through The place where I felt nearest to the grave Until I reached a safe enough space to see for myself Just how much damage I endured And, like my car, I am totaled Broken into pieces that cannot be reframed Some lost at the point of collision Others gradually passing over time And some still holding on In the eyes of an astonished mechanic The car shouldn't even start And according to everyone else I should be dead But I'm not And though neither the car Or my own life will ever fully return to their original condition We still drive on Moving forward on the unpredictable Icy Deadly Highway of life
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49
Eyes are at rest, the stars are setting. Hushed are the stirrings of birds in their nests, Of monsters in the ocean. You are the Just who knows no change, The Balance that can never swerve, The Eternal which never passes away. The doors of Kings are bolted now and guarded by soldiers. Your Door is open to all who call upon You. My Lord, Each love is now alone with his beloved. And I am alone with You. ________ - Rabia al Basri From Perfume of the Desert – Inspirations from Sufi Wisdom Edited: A. Harvey and E. Hanut
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3.9k
My God and My Lord
Distance traveled time spent's dynamic progressiveness, existentially transcendental's clairaudience clairvoyance.  Metaphysical mystique’s  evolutionally metamorphic futurity's fatidic incarnate.  Due yesterday’s retrospectively retroactive.  Protractive analyses' dimensional delineations.  Enigma entity’s dexterously tactile acuity and coordinated agility on the identity crisis.  Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix to synaptic syntax semantics.  Prospectus perplexity surreally sublime.  Quagmire quandary’s poshly plush.  Who am I to think I can conception of the infinite supply?  Even the syntactics of eclectic synectics pale by compare to the atrociously impetuous impudence in pugnaciously audacious.  Impromptu innuendo's juncture.   Imagination’s immaturities are psychic clarity’s entelechy to evolutional tenants élan vital.  Fiduciary principle's financially responsible fiscal policies.   Mercenary mendacity's plenary plenipotentiary.  Innocuous noumenal verity, mystic symbiotic’s chicanery dynamism fealties.  Proximity parameter’s perimeter peripherals, vicinity victuals to vigilante villain,   propinquity habitation’s harbingers of harangued.  The question remains on the tribal:  how can I stand next to the person I’m standing next to if I’m carrying on right through them.  It’s the trajectory extant in spatiotemporal's telemetry tactician.  Well graspy greedy on the stingy frugal to mingy minion and paw flaw laws claws on it.  Get a glove, objectified manifest’s diminutive minutia iota’s of self-inductive interstitial extrapolation.  Detinue perfective.  Traveling down this obtusely overt contusion in my vehicular contrivance convection convolution.  Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s aura roan to rainbow mare.  Unicorn railway nails.  Swarthy ******** swath swizzles on the sweaty swelter swerve to verve.
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May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 12:10 PM UTC
Astral Projection's Existential Hubris
Distance traveled time spent's dynamic progressiveness, existentially transcendental's clairaudience clairvoyance.  Metaphysical mystique’s  evolutionally metamorphic futurity's fatidic incarnate.  Due yesterday’s retrospectively retroactive.  Protractive analyses' dimensional delineations.  Enigma entity’s dexterously tactile acuity and coordinated agility on the identity crisis.  Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix to synaptic syntax semantics.  Prospectus perplexity surreally sublime.  Quagmire quandary’s poshly plush.  Who am I to think I can conception of the infinite supply?  Even the syntactics of eclectic synectics pale by compare to the atrociously impetuous impudence in pugnaciously audacious.  Impromptu innuendo's juncture.   Imagination’s immaturities are psychic clarity’s entelechy to evolutional tenants élan vital.  Fiduciary principle's financially responsible fiscal policies.   Mercenary mendacity's plenary plenipotentiary.  Innocuous noumenal verity, mystic symbiotic’s chicanery dynamism fealties.  Proximity parameter’s perimeter peripherals, vicinity victuals to vigilante villain,   propinquity habitation’s harbingers of harangued.  The question remains on the tribal:  how can I stand next to the person I’m standing next to if I’m carrying on right through them.  It’s the trajectory extant in spatiotemporal's telemetry tactician.  Well graspy greedy on the stingy frugal to mingy minion and paw flaw laws claws on it.  Get a glove, objectified manifest’s diminutive minutia iota’s of self-inductive interstitial extrapolation.  Detinue perfective.  Traveling down this obtusely overt contusion in my vehicular contrivance convection convolution.  Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s aura roan to rainbow mare.  Unicorn railway nails.  Swarthy ******** swath swizzles on the sweaty swelter swerve to verve.
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292 If your Nerve, deny you— Go above your Nerve— He can lean against the Grave, If he fear to swerve— That’s a steady posture— Never any bend Held of those Brass arms— Best Giant made— If your Soul seesaw— Lift the Flesh door— The Poltroon wants Oxygen— Nothing more—
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3.7k
If your Nerve, deny you
You are like economics, Your addictive touch, my unlimited want. Forget our chemistry, physics & genetics, But you, I just can't! Ne'er scarce in relation to my demand, You know my every mood & curve. You alone, can my heart command, As market prices shift & swerve. I am normative, you positive, Opposites attract? Tis true! Our every action, cumulative, Together, the perfect graph we drew. Your utility, I cannot question, You chipped away my unstable equilibrium. Your every approach, devoid of confusion, Insurance of our love, requires no premium. Though our needs are ever recurring, Our time, brief and limited. Memories created are never-ending, Opportunity cost for you? Never hinted. You are the good, worst, better & best, Most importantly, you are never a test!!
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 9:40 AM UTC
Economics of Love
[Verse] Tell these ******* I’m queen, tell these ******* I’m gold If you been where I’ve been, then you’d probably turn cold I give a **** ‘bout you ******* who got a problem with me I do **** for myself, nobody got it for me You got an issue with me, but you ain’t licensed to speak ‘Cause I be feedin’ the streets, your *** is nothin’ to me I’ve been hot with the lyrics and I’ve been dope with the fashion I said I want it I need, I done spoke, I take action And when you talkin’ I’m workin’, I’m gettin’ things I’m deservin’ But at a point I was hurtin’ and gettin’ nothin’ like virgins I be takin’ my time, I’m only twenty years old Nobody ****** with Coca, I tell them suckers “go home” ***** I’m hype ‘cause I’m certified, all my ******* qualified ****** with my team, finna get your face modified What you comin’ for me? I ain’t scared, fam’ I eat them J’s off your feet with my bare hands Stupid-ass ***** just stop ‘Cause I ain’t finna tolerate this **** you talk Unless the ***** a boss she gettin’ boxed They said Coca been on, and ***** you not I be ‘bout it but I ain’t the type to start **** Asian ***** never a fool, always some smart **** Who you playin’? I done learned the game Nobody teachin’ me **** ‘cause me and you not the same So get to suckin’ ***** you talk too much You get a bit of ****** fame, think you popular You twerkin’ for a name, ****** bought you stuff I make my own **** money, and I shop enough They say I lie about the **** I do Now you flexin’ ‘cause Coca ain’t ****** with you ***** swerve – I make moves, it’s the truth This the mafia, ***** – who you?
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Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
Mafia Freestyle
[Verse] Tell these ******* I’m queen, tell these ******* I’m gold If you been where I’ve been, then you’d probably turn cold I give a **** ‘bout you ******* who got a problem with me I do **** for myself, nobody got it for me You got an issue with me, but you ain’t licensed to speak ‘Cause I be feedin’ the streets, your *** is nothin’ to me I’ve been hot with the lyrics and I’ve been dope with the fashion I said I want it I need, I done spoke, I take action And when you talkin’ I’m workin’, I’m gettin’ things I’m deservin’ But at a point I was hurtin’ and gettin’ nothin’ like virgins I be takin’ my time, I’m only twenty years old Nobody ****** with Coca, I tell them suckers “go home” ***** I’m hype ‘cause I’m certified, all my ******* qualified ****** with my team, finna get your face modified What you comin’ for me? I ain’t scared, fam’ I eat them J’s off your feet with my bare hands Stupid-ass ***** just stop ‘Cause I ain’t finna tolerate this **** you talk Unless the ***** a boss she gettin’ boxed They said Coca been on, and ***** you not I be ‘bout it but I ain’t the type to start **** Asian ***** never a fool, always some smart **** Who you playin’? I done learned the game Nobody teachin’ me **** ‘cause me and you not the same So get to suckin’ ***** you talk too much You get a bit of ****** fame, think you popular You twerkin’ for a name, ****** bought you stuff I make my own **** money, and I shop enough They say I lie about the **** I do Now you flexin’ ‘cause Coca ain’t ****** with you ***** swerve – I make moves, it’s the truth This the mafia, ***** – who you?
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780 The Truth—is stirless— Other force—may be presumed to move— This—then—is best for confidence— When oldest Cedars swerve— And Oaks untwist their fists— And Mountains—feeble—lean— How excellent a Body, that Stands without a Bone— How vigorous a Force That holds without a Prop— Truth stays Herself—and every man That trusts Her—boldly up—
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The Truth—is stirless
The Road To Utopia I made a left at the stop light when I should have made a right now I'm left holding the bag and I'll be strung out here all night the road is paved with many turns and you must stay alert the horrid smell of rubber burns as you swerve off onto the dirt not every answer will be correct sometimes your gut is wrong someone will steer you off the path for the cost of a simple song Utopia is a state of mind not a place found on a map to always keep your razor sharp you need use a barber's strap to offer yourself for the good feel pride in the art of giving Utopia is not a place of dreams it is where you are living Gomer LePoet ....
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Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 7:10 AM UTC
The Road To Utopia
*We share our deficiencies: A haven of sorrow and fury* Friendly - they say hello In mischief and spite. Warm or cool under your feet They swerve near nonchalant districts And foamy lips Destructive - they leave without saying goodbye A routine they developed Over the series of washed up regrets And maroon sediments Attached - they stick like superglue To the pang they forgot to tell you about They leave and take a part with them And inevitably imprint themselves onto you *We share our deficiencies: A haven of sorrow and fury*
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Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
Oceanly Nomadic
My problems never cease cuz adversaries try to bury me But since I'm initiated by the hoods They gats protect me catastrophe Been with me since my family tree Nothing crack dealers and cap peelers Seen life early wanted to the king So I chased figures Lookin' at all the cold cash I was stashin' Went from a jalopy to fly Benz Dark tint limo roll up the indo Cuz a brother gotta stay blitz always on a different **** never let the **** blind me Its money over ******* fake ******* get stitches No love bury with five slugs in ya cranium A young ****** on a war path a Ain't no tamin' em Since muthaphukkas jealous I gotta stay strapped Lookin' at the skies for better days askin' why? My life is like this why am enticed to this? **** imagery its the best of me Can't help if I want to abolish slavery Punks *** cops always chasin' me But my mind too strong to be caught up in the wrong I strategize with actions raw raps keep the Co's packin' Put out an APB for a **** nigguh livin' in this streets My heart goes out to the lonely I feel.ya pain Don't let the burden tare ya down Get up off ya *** if ya plan to make cash Cuz the ***** *** government never gone give ya a reprimand of a helping hand Lean on me and overthrow political rules I wamt the gold and silver not the fake *** jewels Paper currency ain't nothing but a advocate to debt So many lost in this world breakin' a sweat Tryna be something that's you'll never be And if a follow the footsteps of revolutionary I'll be a threat So what?? I'mma keep pushin' limits testin' nerves As I sip the henney and blunt as a swerve In my top drop feelin' right and tight Its the black Sun Tzu Thinkin' maybe I'll die tonight
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Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 12:14 PM UTC
IF I Die 2Nite
My problems never cease cuz adversaries try to bury me But since I'm initiated by the hoods They gats protect me catastrophe Been with me since my family tree Nothing crack dealers and cap peelers Seen life early wanted to the king So I chased figures Lookin' at all the cold cash I was stashin' Went from a jalopy to fly Benz Dark tint limo roll up the indo Cuz a brother gotta stay blitz always on a different **** never let the **** blind me Its money over ******* fake ******* get stitches No love bury with five slugs in ya cranium A young ****** on a war path a Ain't no tamin' em Since muthaphukkas jealous I gotta stay strapped Lookin' at the skies for better days askin' why? My life is like this why am enticed to this? **** imagery its the best of me Can't help if I want to abolish slavery Punks *** cops always chasin' me But my mind too strong to be caught up in the wrong I strategize with actions raw raps keep the Co's packin' Put out an APB for a **** nigguh livin' in this streets My heart goes out to the lonely I feel.ya pain Don't let the burden tare ya down Get up off ya *** if ya plan to make cash Cuz the ***** *** government never gone give ya a reprimand of a helping hand Lean on me and overthrow political rules I wamt the gold and silver not the fake *** jewels Paper currency ain't nothing but a advocate to debt So many lost in this world breakin' a sweat Tryna be something that's you'll never be And if a follow the footsteps of revolutionary I'll be a threat So what?? I'mma keep pushin' limits testin' nerves As I sip the henney and blunt as a swerve In my top drop feelin' right and tight Its the black Sun Tzu Thinkin' maybe I'll die tonight
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39
Contemplation is like fishing. Often my reason fails me and I cast out into the waters hoping I can catch that vital energy feel its power, its resistance, its strength that is elusive but I know is there and those moments of connection with that mysterious force give me energy. I am alive so I keep castings into the ocean knowing the elan is there, the verve that takes me from my mind to dance, to move, to swerve in that moment of now. Author’s Note: I bow in gratitude to Brian McLaren and Barbara A. Holmes for their wisdom that inspired this poem and kneel in awe and thanksgiving to all the fish I have caught over the years, for the excitement and nourishment – the life they gave me.
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Sep 11, 2021
Sep 11, 2021 at 12:51 PM UTC
It's like fishing...
. **••••••• •here lies the  rema- ins• that once beat with  superb lustre• caring not for worldly gains•on- ly undying  hopes  of pairing  with another• but fate had tipped  the scales, not in his favour •when  it  sent an  oncoming  car to share  the  same lane• driver was behind the wheel but alcohol had  taken over• causing the car to swerve recklessly in the rain• the last  few moments was punctuated with a deaf- ening sound•his day began not know- ing  death was  writ- ten   from the  start• so here li- es he, whose heart had thus been crowned • his love is immortalised with this tombstone as his heart• ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••**
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Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 10:02 AM UTC
Tragic
A drugstore pallid in waning light, always illuminated in halogen halos. I am earless with music. Black metal loud in clanging sets and blows- foreshadowing the smell of cleaning solution, air freshener and the outside sweet at my back all steeped deep in the rip roaring undertone torrent of cigarette smoke blended with cheap perfume until I cannot tell the difference. There is a limp familiarity to the underlying odor born partially of personal encounter and- nestled in the hive mind of social experience. A distillation of regret and remorse, of lonely, of irrelevance; this black hole swallows my voice the way of my ears, eaten by rust. Four cans of beans, kidneys, in cans squeezed without any power against sagging swells melting into other curves and I swerve close and around guiltily, noting you only as the source of this pungent spring. You are smiling apologies ignorant of my apparent inhumanity- blind to my selfish hands.. Pinioning belly flesh, flattening, reaching and gaining attendance from a better man retrieving every dropped can. I’m retreating, shaken, tense to alternatively slacken. My sweat slippery palms with whitened red sharp fingers feel foreign and I am surrounded by razors then shaving cream, moving from shampoo to conditioner, the whole store is infected with smell. Staring at nail clippers/snipers clipping touch smooth sooth my tense mind- don’t look **don’t look** I can sense little else but dread drawing closer you are now crouched so close I’m gagging, taken forcefully-swept away in an olfactory flood roiling in rot, currents of solitude exude from your smiling sullen appearance when I turn to you fumbling with my electric ears, surfacing in a breath of Amish silence broken with simple request and I want to scream at you that I am not a man to ask opinions of that it does not matter what fake nails she glues to her body that she is excluded and I don’t know why. I choose swirls of cream suspended within watery milk, over childish lady bugs framed by yellow or dots of red alternating to black, an epitaph to a lifelike effigy.
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Dec 10, 2010
Dec 10, 2010 at 1:42 AM UTC
The Inevitability of Human Incongruity.
A drugstore pallid in waning light, always illuminated in halogen halos. I am earless with music. Black metal loud in clanging sets and blows- foreshadowing the smell of cleaning solution, air freshener and the outside sweet at my back all steeped deep in the rip roaring undertone torrent of cigarette smoke blended with cheap perfume until I cannot tell the difference. There is a limp familiarity to the underlying odor born partially of personal encounter and- nestled in the hive mind of social experience. A distillation of regret and remorse, of lonely, of irrelevance; this black hole swallows my voice the way of my ears, eaten by rust. Four cans of beans, kidneys, in cans squeezed without any power against sagging swells melting into other curves and I swerve close and around guiltily, noting you only as the source of this pungent spring. You are smiling apologies ignorant of my apparent inhumanity- blind to my selfish hands.. Pinioning belly flesh, flattening, reaching and gaining attendance from a better man retrieving every dropped can. I’m retreating, shaken, tense to alternatively slacken. My sweat slippery palms with whitened red sharp fingers feel foreign and I am surrounded by razors then shaving cream, moving from shampoo to conditioner, the whole store is infected with smell. Staring at nail clippers/snipers clipping touch smooth sooth my tense mind- don’t look **don’t look** I can sense little else but dread drawing closer you are now crouched so close I’m gagging, taken forcefully-swept away in an olfactory flood roiling in rot, currents of solitude exude from your smiling sullen appearance when I turn to you fumbling with my electric ears, surfacing in a breath of Amish silence broken with simple request and I want to scream at you that I am not a man to ask opinions of that it does not matter what fake nails she glues to her body that she is excluded and I don’t know why. I choose swirls of cream suspended within watery milk, over childish lady bugs framed by yellow or dots of red alternating to black, an epitaph to a lifelike effigy.
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59
Bad as a ***** ***** Bas as a ***** ***** Flapjack rippin up tracks Call the conductor Oh wait that’s me You need training Wheel’s on the track Traction that you stuck under N never wonder who is coming with the blunderbuss All up in yo face, one shot n you under us Ain’t wonderous? ****** up a couple plastics, pause, chill, kickback Smoke a couple blunts M to the A G, N to the Ificient Life’s nice isn’t it? That is, if ya got a little life light to lighten up those, like, Way heavy dark instances. And I don’t give a **** what you’re inference is Psh, this ***** tryna tell me what the difference is I thought it was obvious I am, they are not the **** Now we all got a nervous system But that don’t explain why you’re so nervous mister I done chained two chains up by his whiskers Gave away his dummy money needed hunny ****** his sister It’s the Little Rapscallion ****** up your fleet, better bring the whole battalion And I rap stallions, you stickin to the stable Fables of your ladies n your many medalions **** I’m goin off in this motha ***** Tossin these ***** fuckas wall to wall Knockin bricks out with a fist pound So get out n stand back, take notes, watch it fall I’m bach with ***** don’t matter what your speed I can clock em all, No cops involved, knock knock knock knock Lock down drop top n ball I’m all tweaked up n ***** you bound to stall
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Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 2:33 AM UTC
Swerve
Did God not make love vain in the first place? Stolen my wings; my sacred space. Did God not lie to us all? To say together we fall. Can we have time? Because peace can only appease my rhyme. What is with people today? We act in our subconscious away from the fray. Can someone just make sense? Because what does not makes the world tense. Only sticking around because I am a known freak. To women I am not sheik. Can someone just make sense? Because this world seems dense. Will I succumb to my fear? Because away from this world I wish I could disappear. People are starting to swerve as they steer. What is wrong with people today I said with no fear.
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Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 7:39 AM UTC
What is Wrong with People Today?