"testified" poems
Challenges and competition notified.
Every step codified.
Tears and sweat pacified.
Achievements and advancement glorified.
Regression and depression terrified.
Muscles and struggle verified.
Foes and conspirators mortified.
Plans of progress and purpose sanctified.
Grace and the Goodness of God testified.
Sweet pleasures of life.
Trials, Torment and Torture.
Eulogies and Elegies of visible characters.
Promising and decisive.
No conflicts, No dilemma.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 1:48 AM UTC
596
When I was small, a Woman died—
Today—her Only Boy
Went up from the Potomac—
His face all Victory
To look at her—How slowly
The Seasons must have turned
Till Bullets clipt an Angle
And He passed quickly round—
If pride shall be in Paradise—
Ourself cannot decide—
Of their imperial Conduct—
No person testified—
But, proud in Apparition—
That Woman and her Boy
Pass back and forth, before my Brain
As even in the sky—
I’m confident that Bravoes—
Perpetual break abroad
For Braveries, remote as this
In Scarlet Maryland—
11.6k
*we won't die for ideals we once held dear, we'll now simply die for the numbers we can simply keep, but when it comes to ourselves, we'll die to simply keep a mistook numbering in order to readdress the ideals that are no longer appreciated in our numbering a loss of a tiger's roar, and more the microscopic ant digestion auditory exploding into a h-bomb for man to imitate by number but no essential authority: since once mammoth the authority killed man, now some sub-insect (virus) can **** man.*
if there's a group of people
who are assumed to be possessed,
then there's a group of people
who are dis-possessed,
and there's always the middle
interval mediating sales and
necessary priesthood
the two polars never mediate,
once the priesthood used to
cradle the illiterate ones,
now the priesthood uses the literacy
of the once illiterate ones
now literate, consecrating them
with something apart from holy water,
selective reading they testified
to be as calm as a lake, but turbulent
as a river the salmon swam against
the current to spawn:
the once illiterate ones now literate
are taught a second illiteracy:
watch the television, read the best-sellers..
this second illiteracy is worse
than the original one... half of us will
be water and fat... and half of us epileptic zombies
enslaved by a television... i preferred the first
illiteracy... at least we died for love...
this second illiteracy is worth a jackal's
cry and a ******* of paedophiles.
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 9:13 PM UTC
555
Trust in the Unexpected—
By this—was William Kidd
Persuaded of the Buried Gold—
As One had testified—
Through this—the old Philosopher—
His Talismanic Stone
Discernéd—still withholden
To effort undivine—
’Twas this—allured Columbus—
When Genoa—withdrew
Before an Apparition
Baptized America—
The Same—afflicted Thomas—
When Deity assured
’Twas better—the perceiving not—
Provided it believed—
2.2k
.*who said i was orientating myself around the body? the body to body dynamic is so.... easy... excessive salivation... like a dog... i don't want the body... i wan the existence of the non-existent parody of ego, in the form of soul... i want, what secularism abhors to lay claim of... i've been to a ********** i know what selling flesh looks like... but i've also walked into a forest... and i have, managed to peer into a night... where i also managed to forget being equipped with a shadow... no... that wasn't it... true structures emerge when you've been abused... and the counter structures? the abuse... slows down... in the most realistic ordeal of anticipating near, but. never realized completion... what, a, leisure! the forest, the moon, the shadow, the crown... all that's missing is a poetic vagabond's (of an) incision into a soul... the tired yawn of a lion ingrained in a delusional concern for the depth of man... oh the leisured man... and his vantage points... prompts of a view with a missing lot, curiosity... cradle of the curiosity... cradle.. how else, if not coupled with...
a curiosity coupled to a, grave.*
deity, of fixed,
stature;
within the confines
of the prefix
omni-
what am i,
what am i, not
to think,
to encompass,
"the", all?
maybe some
clown-male-up
would-help?!
now i better hope,
that it does....
were we not oh so inquisitive,
concerning
the origins of said,
story?
sure...
sure...
such a feeble god...
bu what a more than
overtly feeble
invocation
of a real god!
what feeble reasons!
for whatever
is testified
as a, "feeble" god
to be conjured!
**** you!
and whatever comes with your
grievance of sharing heritage!
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 8:49 PM UTC
Is there anything so extraordinary as a hand?
I asked, as I ****** his finger
with a gusto hungry to milk some essence of him
that would nourish me after his body left.
*Your divine digits! These brilliant explorers, who
fragile as separate spring shoots, can teach and tell and build what
would last for ever.
If a Renaissance lives, it lives in these hands , these ingenious orchestrations that can musick and paint and sculpt and-*
-and write?
Yes darling, and that.
I migrated my tongue and attention to his palm and slowly painted his love-line pink, tasting his future.
*Do you know, when I was once a little Catholic girl- they would tell their stories in Sunday School and I used to imagine the soul resided somewhere in your belly and felt like chicken noodle soup...
and perhaps not so, perhaps hands are the houses of soul where the most Authentic Self of selves resides waiting to touch, to hold, to caress... where the animal desires of humanity delight in the most truthful communication existing?*
-Then... what is the common language? Id?
Yes, perhaps you're right. And love.
His other hand, jealous of my attention, spoke aloud in a sonnet of pinches and strokes that could have drawn tears of reverence were I not held captive by the decadent finger between my lips.
Between gulps of air he queried my fixation
and with a final holy gasp I testified:
"Darling, touch is the only transparent sensation"
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC
It’s a fire
You and I
It’s a word
We testified.
We grew larger
It’s a flame
Every singing crackle
It calls your name.
We have heat
You and I
Have many colors
Trapped inside my eye.
It’s a dream
Yet so real
Can we deny?
Should we feel?
It’s a fire
You and I
Such a flame
Grew so high.
It’s a fire
Me and you
Such abundance
Where fire stood blue.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 10:10 PM UTC
~
dreams of you,
they fill my mind;
dreams of us,
our hearts entwined;
inseparable we,
this you and i,
the dream we dreamed,
us unified.
from two came three,
love multiplied;
conceived a song,
it testified;
our voices sang
their lullaby;
the how, the why
still mystifies;
your heart of love
it underlies.
here... dreams of you
still fill my mind;
i dream of us,
ever entwined.
~
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 2:15 PM UTC
There I sat with a cast and black eye
Just got small children down for the night
Tim decided to take tots for a swim
"Over my dead body", I yelled at him
We discussed our views in loud voices
Continued to fight, made bad choices
Very soon Westminsters finest pulled up
Domestic situation, cops abrupt
Got both sides of story, mine in jest
Smart *** me, I was soon under arrest
Handcuffed, shoved into waiting squad car
Was pissed-cussed at my treatment so far
"I want your badge number", I threatened the cop
Ill sue for false arrest, and no I won't stop
Assault and battery on who, on Tim?
Refused to put out cig, didn't touch him
Got booked, printed and a soggy sack lunch
Wore old lady ****** rode up in a bunch
In population still in cast with black eye
The word spread around that I battered a guy
I crutched my way across shiny jail floor
Eyes following me as if to implore
Came up on a woman, looked like a ****
Then she asked, **** girl what's he look like?"
Got released next day, had court appearance
Plead not guilty with no interference
Set date for jury trial of my peers
Never been in court in all of my years
With public defender at defendants table
Jury looked at me as if I were unable
To batter, assault a serious offense
I was so small, this did not make much sense
I bravely testified on my own behalf
Brought up Tims prior abuse, hid a laugh
OBJECTION YOUR HONOR, spouted DA
Too late, the jury heard what I had to say
They filed out to deliberation space
Came back in fifteen, looked Tim in the face
The judge read the verdict, not guilty at all I was a free woman and skipped down the hall
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 10:42 AM UTC
carve the bark
you plus your love
testified
made hard
heart needs a box locked
otherwise the feels fly
or maybe the big ought's that hover over us elide
that long hair lush inside
a sin if let down or
maybe jus one small discretion
to put behind you
or maybe it's an observance
to a rune more ancient
than history and its codes
your orb at work
his swell under spell
turn around and don't look over your shoulder
little spoon arch
wrap it in silk
spill the milk
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 8:33 PM UTC
Time and again more and more number of possibilities are been explored keeping in mind the past, present and the future.
The hesitation still remains
A great deal of uncertainty keeps everything on hold
Better to move ahead one step at a time
Be wise
Since the failure from past still haunts the mind
What now?
What next?
What else?
What if something goes wrong?
What if something misses the mark?
Questions and more number of questions are raised
However, definitely these are not questions
These are doubts that are raised in the form of questions
Understand the situation
Feel the pulse of the moment
Analyze everything and then move ahead to take the risk
Better to do something rather than to back out
Better to test the strength
Better to face failure rather than to dismiss the thought of taking the proper line of action
Time to monitor the situation now and think again
Negotiation and compromise are out of question
Innovation is not going to take care and solve the problem
It’s the transformation of thoughts into strength
Transformation of words into action
Transformation of will power into an ability to execute
Since everything is at stake
As of now it’s the skill, strength, determination and ability that will get testified
No matter what happens now
One thing remains for sure
Give your best and fight till the end
Let’s see what happens then.
Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 9:14 PM UTC
Wallace Hartley nodded
and the band played on.
The lifeboats and collapsibles
by then were launched and gone.
Futile flares lit up the sky
A chill borne of despair.
What was the last song that you played ?
A waltz? a Hymn? a prayer?
The violin I hold in my hand
was Wallace's all right.
What will be bid for this memento
of that remembered night?
Some survivors after claimed
you played a hymn of praise.
The wireless man McBride recalled
a mournful waltz was played.
You were the gift of Wallace's love
A girl who never wed.
The last memento of these Lovers
who rest now with the dead.
Now all Titanic's complement
are muted dead and gone.
Yet all survivors testified
that the band, indeed, played on.
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 6:52 PM UTC
*actually, one thing rings true
from freudian theory,
the Madonna-Whore complex,
which i find to be superior
to the Oedipus complex,
for reasons testified by experience:
a girl outside the profession
of prostitution gave me unease
to provide an ********
yet a girl within the profession
gave me no problem giving me an
******** yet not adequate subject matter:*
if only my sleeping eyes could see
into the world of the living,
if only my living eyes could see
into the world of the dead,
if only my dead eyes could peer into
the world of either: and not interpret dreams
and not dogmatically assert a passing
of thought from body and into soul
as a necessary hindsight of cyclic revisionism
of history to be ****** to a repeat:
a napaoleon a ****** Gemini in russia:
equally failed.
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 9:32 PM UTC
"Let us rebuild, so that,
we may be no
longer a reproach",… it is just
business/ Nehemiah spake
put this on your business card
directly, in spirit, to David
Barton, inspirational director,
for many a proud warrior for truth.
Jesus lives, we rise, we agree, in me.
Where lay the Kingdom of God, back then,
when he is recorded as having said,
I will, my will being done, abide
side any who hear the knock,
as an innocent, or a lying, cheating scoundrel,
that's the good news, war has never worked,
peacemaking all ways works, one on one.
Honed most point, tip to tip... touch
spirit face to spirit face
messenger to message, dare we say
in the presence of at least as many as
have testified to seeing grave dwellers walking,
most certainly there was darkness, and that curtain,
between the holiest of holies, and every day sanctity,
ripped… rippity re-occurence right down the middle,
opening all reality
to the Wizard
of Oz's most esoteric
special effect
on the ensuing Easter audiences, seeing
it, over and over, until the metaphor, the riddle becomes
dabar, a very humble word translated many ways, see::
Pens with motors are more powerful than swords,
of any sort… logos significant cannot loose dabar yah, we
in this form minding manners men agree to abide beneath,
but
but
but
on good advice,
from bar mitzvahed friends, dead and living,
the use of labor, during interesting times, as mobs
to make unified mind form encase believers in
situations indisputably dangerous, used right
by godfearing law enforcement officers, right
used by a leader exactly, to the hairs on his head,
like the guy on television who crashed all those casinos.
Jun 14, 2025
Jun 14, 2025 at 2:56 PM UTC
The old man, grey, bespectacled, with difficulty, rose from his chair.
If he’d come to plead for mercy, I doubt he’d find it here.
He struggled to stand steady with his Zimmer walking frame
As he gave his testimony we all felt his sense of shame.
“I was there when all this happened; I saw the smoke rise to the sky.
I saw the piles of ashes that were once like you and I.
I counted stolen valuables; Money, watches, gold.
I dared not speak objection. I did as I was told.”
He asked for a glass of water; this much he did receive.
He testified an hour without asking for reprieve.
He spoke about those distant days we see in black and white.
Of a Germany destroyed by debt and burning for a fight.
He then was young and good with numbers
He was the bookkeeper of Auschwitz;
He can’t un-see all he did see.
Although he never shot a girl or stabbed a sleeping child,
He’d tallied up their worldly goods to add them to the pile.
When the Russians over-ran the camp, he and the others fled.
They left behind warehouses full of the possessions of the dead.
The Jury must deliberate about what punishment is due
For this ninety year old **** who kept track of baby shoes.
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 8:36 AM UTC
In the beginning God created the heaven and earth.When I consider the heavens,the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him? What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? and thou shouldest set thine heart upon him? But one in a certain place testified, saying, What is man, that thou art mindful of him? or the son of man, that thou visiteth him? Thou madest him a little lower than the angels; thou crownedest him with glory and honor, and didst set him over the works of thy hands: Or a little while inferior to Thou hast put all things in subjection under his feet. For in that he put all in subjection under him, he left nothing that is not put under him. But now we see not yet all things put under him.And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, all power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: The Lord hath made bare his holy arm in the eyes of all the nations; and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God. And that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee: and in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed. And He said, It is a light thing that thou shouldst be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to restore the preserved of Israel: I will also give thee a light to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be my salvation unto the end of the earth.
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 6:56 AM UTC
i found that modern people lie too much, because the preceding acts of investigation where treated as vanity, and indeed they are, compared to the contemporaries' acts of lying as brimful, the res plenus, the thing brimming with itself, no chance of an extinction of a self into creating something and disappearing, but rather the modern concern for pop music artists, creating nothing and constantly reappearing... not encapsulating the need for emptiness, but the drive to need an icon... a self-detachment worth a thermometer or a telescope, or a theory of relativity... they cite einstein alright, but einstein is just a headline to attract the eyes, rather than the article to attract the eyes... too few blind men exist to make the judgemental balance of the two accurate.
i'm walking with a glass of whiskey
with icecubes' jingling
like skulls on a cannibal's necklace,
and it's necessary to say:
boy's reading milan kundera's
the unbearable lightness of being
boy leaves girl reading milan's *testament
betrayed*,
girl is too devastated by familial ties,
boy meets the girl's grandmother who
she denotes as her mother, boy eats dinner
with the girl's mother who the girl denotes
as sister... girl speaks of being abducted
when younger... boy has no knowledge
of psychiatric evaluation...
enforces boy to wed her, taking contraceptive
pills but faking taking them -
it's the ideal: i'll **** you to orphan **** a society
into benefits - odd, because with prostitutes
i pulled out and ********** silently into a ******
after all, prostitutes don't want to be pregnant.
she still persisted telling the boy:
you just finished a degree of education,
you have no safe career path... let's start a family,
you say no, i'll ******* **** you...
rubber rubber rubbing the same tree-hug later
it's a laughing matter... as testified
by my constant rubber sheath use of ******
**** me without one, her words, not mine:
brown-nosing feminists of the **** & *****
already politicising the matter in favour of one night stands;
i told you idiots before... cats are cheaper...
i'd be jealous had you two phalluses
to insert into both ***** and ****
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 6:15 PM UTC
I'm from the bottom where more than water lie, sick girls looking for victims another person to mortify, where it's a more or less chance you will be in jail from somebody who testified, than high-speed chase in broad day and you crashing out.
It's all about what you do no one cares what your talking about,nothing is for free or given to you, so get a hustle or be without
Whatever take a chance be a Man so what if you have doubts
It's better to know than want sympathy looking for handouts
Cause you only get out of life what you put in it
And a little can only go so far
Criticize by the best of the best F@#k them know who you are.
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 2:19 PM UTC
Sometimes I forget that I want to get better
It's harder to scream when you don't remember what happened to you
When your thoughts are only pictures
Not the chair, the couch, the carpet, the walls
It's everywhere, even with the best intentions
Like ****** Assault Awareness Month posters plastered all over my college
Even though we read epic poems by Derek Walcott
The man convicted of sexually harassing multiple women
And still teaches at Harvard
But my professor didn't feel it was pertinent information
Until my friend asked about it in class
Both he and Google claim it was a smear campaign
Even though he most likely touched every woman who testified.
They say we burn our own houses down
But we're left behind in the rubble
Senior year of high school
I get into an argument with my lunch table
They tell me how some women like to accuse high profile people of ****
When they are on top
See: Bill Cosby
My face is hot by this point in the conversation
I try to spit words out, but they sizzle up in midair
My friend asks
"If this happened, why are they all coming forward now?"
They say we burn our own houses down
But we're left behind in the rubble
A year earlier
When a boy with rogue hands and boiling breath
Caused my body and my words to freeze into my skin
I tried to scrub the dirt from myself
More times than I care to remember
I tell a friend
He tells me I should have reported it
No proof, next in line please
I tell another friend
She says I probably just regret it
I will get over it soon enough
They say we burn our own houses down
But we're left behind in the rubble
This world has built the home of my attacker up around me
I know that recovery is the price I pay for living in this body
When seeing his face is no longer wanting to **** myself
When purging will not control the places my shriveled up corpse was dragged to
But how can I want to get better
When I see how we are blamed for our own imprisonment?
When songs about **** are in every commercial
Every grocery store aisle
Every radio station that comes on repeat?
Recovery is the price I pay for living in this body
But sometimes it would be easier
To stop paying rent.
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC
“...But Turkey is part of the story of Trump’s treachery. Erdogan, like Putin, Kim, and Zelensky, has learned that in the United States-- as in other authoritarian countries-- only one man really matters.”
______________________________
I wrote this after the brutal ****** of Jamal Khashoggi. I highly suspect the timing and the players of this backroom agreement:
The timing of Khashoggi's disappearance and the release of the Evangelical pastor, Brunson are not coincidental. The players were all there and the timing in place.
Here's what I think happened:
Turkey plays middleman, gets rid of bad press and high-pressure detainee, American Pastor Brunson. Saudi Arabia gets rid of its problematic critic, the newspaperman, Jamal Khoshoggi. The United States gets Pastor Brunson back plus the huge photo-op with Trump on his knees right before the election, claiming to his evangelical base, “See what I did for you? Does that buy your votes?” Everybody gets what they want, except Jamal Khoshoggi, who is tortured, killed, and dismembered in the Saudi embassy in Turkey.
Too diabolic and smooth for Trump alone. I think Russia and high level, intelligence brokered this deal. The agreement for it came between Saudis, Trump, and Turkey's Erdogan. Russians standing just out of sight on this – waiting.
________________________
Gotta wonder what our economy is based on? More-so, the morality of our government. We should be outraged and deeply ashamed!
Feel terrible for his fiance--not knowing-- not even able to bury him.
Support the free press everywhere!
...Latest: Trump's response:
But Trump also reiterated his earlier concerns that any punishment of Saudis shouldn't impact trade with Saudi Arabia, signaling that cutting off U.S. military sales to the kingdom may not be an option.
"I don't want to hurt jobs," he said...."
Fast forward--
10-8-19:
Now we learn a little more about what Turkey wanted from the deal.
Open season on the Kurds, anyone?
Trump's letter to Erdogan all but threatening him to cooperate with cease-fire in Syria allowing Putin into the territory he wanted. Not sure who actually framed Trump's words as he is a a blabbering ******* Jared perhaps?
The letter does Not promise reward for cooperation-- but in carefully couched words-- threatens Erdogan that he could end up like Khashoggi. As Michael Cohen testified, “Trump never says anything directly. Sorta like a mafia don-- everything is in code”
Oct 24, 2019
Oct 24, 2019 at 12:11 PM UTC
A prayer,
a whisper ..."closer".
The feathery brush of my lover's lips 'gainst mine only to share a breath then depart.
What lips can perfect love's kiss yet utter not love's words?
Then take these lips that speak; that kiss
for I love naught for love's sake but for my lover.
Be it word or deed to sustain my lover's need
with the same let my love be testified.
For what is love if not a sacrifice.
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 12:13 PM UTC
you testified this;
true smile begins,
from heart's
magnificent deeps.
Jan 1, 2012
Jan 1, 2012 at 12:07 AM UTC
*i know, i should have attempted to collect black sabbath's oeuvre, instead i missed out on master of reality's song solitude, loved that song, learned to play it apart from the solo, and a girl remarked 'i did't know you could play country music', country?! ah, you mean country as in: sleepy hollow haunted woods and wide open fields and remote routes into isolation? ah, well then yes. shame really, but i'm not going to feel ashamed having collected iron maiden and slayer oeuvres (up to a sensible point), but **** me, that song! and thank god i smashed my guitar on the stones, bye bye, you haunted guitar.*
you know, after reading a lot of books,
esp. in your ****** prime and want of party party,
you digest things a lot easier,
mind you, i used to visit my grandparents
in the summer religiously, a perfect environment
to have read major books:
kierkegaard's either / or, bertrand russell's
history of western philosophy,
dostoyevsky's the karamazov brothers,
bolesław prus' the doll,
don quixote, tatarkiewicz's on joy...
i mean mammoth-sized books (by the way,
mammoth is a word derived from estonian,
and they didn't become extinct as far back
as you might think)... but the perfect environment
to read them... and after you've done that,
and enjoyed a few other books in between
you just turn to writing, and reading book
reviews... like today, i sneezed four times
to protect me against the guilt of laughing
reading a book review, rather than the book itself:
death drive - there are no accidents,
a book about celebrities crashing their cars,
fatal car accidents; enlisted examples refer to:
jayne mansfield, albert camus, james dean,
eddie cochran, mike hailwood, mike hawthorn,
marc bolan, tara browne, isadora duncan.
i guess you just forget reading books,
having testified to yourself an adequate cultural
canon being possessed: well, i mean,
imagine going back to the town of your birth
you left aged 8 and spending time with your
grandparents for a month - you have to
make shroud economics in such scenarios.
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 11:59 AM UTC