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"tolerant" poems
Lay your sleeping head, my love, Human on my faithless arm; Time and fevers burn away Individual beauty from Thoughtful children, and the grave Proves the child ephemeral: But in my arms till break of day Let the living creature lie, Mortal, guilty, but to me The entirely beautiful. Soul and body have no bounds: To lovers as they lie upon Her tolerant enchanted slope In their ordinary swoon, Grave the vision Venus sends Of supernatural sympathy, Universal love and hope; While an abstract insight wakes Among the glaciers and the rocks The hermit's sensual ecstasy. Certainty, fidelity On the stroke of midnight pass Like vibrations of a bell, And fashionable madmen raise Their pedantic boring cry: Every farthing of the cost, All the dreadful cards foretell, Shall be paid, but not from this night Not a whisper, not a thought, Not a kiss nor look be lost. Beauty, midnight, vision dies: Let the winds of dawn that blow Softly round your dreaming head Such a day of sweetness show Eye and knocking heart may bless. Find the mortal world enough; Noons of dryness see you fed By the involuntary powers, Nights of insult let you pass Watched by every human love.
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11.1k
Lay Your Sleeping Head, My Love
Being a friend is being a man Being a brother is being tolerant There are who say we can And there are who say we can't Why is that so hard to love your brother? And so easy to betray your friend ? Why does time give me brothers? And why does it take away my friends? Is my brother a friend? Or is my friend a brother?
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Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
Brotherhood
She's like a drama queen, Plays the 'blame game' like a loser, Fair minded as a bigot, Wages war like drones, As free as surveillance, As open as privatized prisons, As equal as feudalism, As rich as the beggar masses, Bankrupt as homeowners, Socialist as the military, Truthful, trustful as "NEWS," as propaganda, Pagan as the manufactured Goddess 'Columbia,' Christian as the stingy, Pious as a sinner, Wicked as securities, exchanges on 'Wall Street,' Insecure as an empire, Greedy as a fast food glutton, As brave as a fool, Warmongering as a chicken hawk politician, Machevellian as a coward, As rigged as the free market, As selfish as Capitalism, As tolerant as Islam, Beautiful as a clear cut forest, Charming as a strip mall, Forward thinking as chaos, Lawless as congress, United as a belligerent crowd, Compassionate as a swat team, Green as any petrochemical company, Organic as pollution, Deep as a strip mine  .  .  .   .  .  .
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Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
Similes for America
The ultimate joy of life, Without strife, A virtue, A necessity, Hard work. We think we are the masters of our fates, It creates impatience. Nip the fumes of impatience in the bud, Endure and be tolerant, Don't get worked up, Have patience. You need it in abundance, To be a good parent, A perfect teacher, A likeable boss, All modes of life. Patience is the hallmark of the righteous, So restrain your anger, Forgive others, Avoid snap judgements, Very difficult but we can. Without patience wisdom becomes foolishness, Success turns to defeat.
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Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 1:30 PM UTC
Patience
Are not all of us human? Do not each one of us bleed? Despite race or religion, gender, colour or creed. Does ones nationality, ****** orientation, Or ones disability Make them less of a person? Are not all of us children, Some ones daughter or son? Does not each one of us mean So very much to someone? We are all so different So unique and wonderful Who have from the first moment Lived our lives to the full.   Can one life be more precious? Mean less than any other? What gives any one of us The right to **** another? No, nothing can justify Killing of our fellow man No matter how hard we try Not one of us really can For life is a gift given Not by either you or I It is not our decision Who should live and who should die. Who are we to pass judgement On how other people live? We must be more tolerant, Must learn to live and let live
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Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 7:37 AM UTC
Live and let live
And their hearts were pure diamond For they would always be Tolerant, Noble, Sympathetic To the needs of those around, But they were susceptible To the weakness of those That were Fragile Flesh Human Emotion would taint the pure, What was once solid changed With each transgression The heart changed Ruby Raged upon those around Uncontrollable cracks did show Emerald     Eyes ignited by the wanting of others Love, belongings, tainted colours showed. Amber They could not take the emotion Confusion Frustration Depression Was the end of many, on to the "Shards of tears" Would many then fall Torn to pebbles, now resting beneath They were once pure heart Diamond, "Shone through" But once the seed planted it grew, "Then the inevitable" The sins turned a heart to stone Frozen with emotion, Erased just cold rock now stood A frozen moment, Life, Stillness, Corruption Had taken another ancient For one day all would be but rock, Those that helped the beginnings of a species Now all is corrupted by the taint that is man..
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
Diamond Corrupted To Stone
Your love is treacherous. It lights my heart in flames, Gasoline shooting up my veins. Adding fuel to my fire. But your love doesn't burn, Anymore. My flesh is raw and tolerant, To your high degree of heat. The return to the constant burn is simple. Each new inhale provides, That same addictive rush Of smoke.
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Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
No Need to Fight the Fire
Gestures always so polite Doesn't seem right Impurity and doubts Falsely sweetened mouths Good to the worst No bitter words burst No expression of offence Nothing said in defence So sweet, so easy going So tolerant, so loving No respect for self? Left the heart on the shelf? Observing the moves Following the cue Now I see you You are one by two. A brain so sly Always telling a lie Fooling honest souls To reach your vicious goals Talking ill behind ones back Frankness you lack I pity thy soul It’s gone for a toll Not brave, not true A coward in you
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Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 11:14 AM UTC
Impure Purity
must love rainy days adventure pumpkin carving and unexpected kisses must be tolerant of jimmy stewart and bob dylan the other men in my life no height weight or hair color requirement but big hearted weirdos who smile for no reason are always welcome no racist sexist homophobic persons or those who say baby as a term of endearment i like my coffee bitter and my men sweet never the other way around lopsided grins and kind eyes can get you everywhere if similar in tempermant style or appearance to the doctor david bowie mickey mouse or jesus please contact immediately must be accepting of raucous laughter black and white films cold feet and occasional insomnia i am always late rarely refined and have almost no perception of the volume of my own voice in junior high i asked a girl to stop picking on another child she told me to go fly a kite it was not until much later that i realized she was insulting me not offering ideas for an enjoyable way to spend the afternoon my hair is an untamable beast but when fashioned properly can be wrapped about my face to create a rather fetching beard i enjoy being scared and am not easily so unless you are a bug i talk in my sleep never know what day it is and cry while reading good books i just want to hold your hand in a crowded theatre while we wait for the scene at the end of the credits and to be able to tell you i love you
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Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 10:02 PM UTC
boyfriend wanted
Why is it the supposedly more tolerant Are the least tolerant around Can we no longer speak our own minds Without someone out there shooting us down Feel free to speak your opinion I'm more than willing but never forced to listen That there my friend is your basic right A freedom that seems to be missing Are we not free thinking individuals Did I miss the memo where that's no longer allowed Should I just step into the jet stream And become a part of this mind numbing crowd I can clearly see that you are not me Isn't that what it's supposed to be like It also rings true that I am not you So can't we just live our lives It's hard enough standing on your own two feet That's why at times we might step on some toes But can't we all just get along After all we might like the way that it goes
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 10:14 AM UTC
Today's Tolerance
I try to be tolerant, but you repeat conversations from your head assuming I'll play by your script despite my lack of interest in your need to repeat the past. I try to be tolerant but you won't give me a chance to breathe, not with those dagger eyes that have been threatened, not with that yapping mouth that has been triggered, not with that closed mind that screams to be opened. You view your world from your eyes and get caught thinking your view is the best view when it's not. You view your world from your eyes and get caught thinking all your thoughts are true and valid when they are not. I like you best when you remember on your own that your limitations are limitless, and together we live in this world of a mess and call it our home.
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Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 9:40 AM UTC
Tolerant
Sunshine arises a delightful smile on my face For the time of twilight compassionate and sweet The darkness of the night escorts an exotic trance Where music titillates and tingles the tolerant minds We trip the light fantastic ceasing in the catnap room Reach for dreams as hypnotic states are entered To the other side of the tunnel Sequences continue like trees do through seasons At dawn I will laugh from the salty raindrops That declared war to my skin Clouds shooting never ending water molecules Ocean flavoured waterfalls drip down my lips When the sun is sublime The world makes me laugh For people are odd and reality is unsurprising The clock ticks life away as it puts life in time When birds abandon sweet lullabies Sunflowers wind their heads away from the sun And tranquil colours paint the abstract sky My heart is in peace and butterflies tickle my tummy
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Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 4:26 PM UTC
What makes me laugh?
Overview: -Birthday: ∞ -Studied everything at The School of... -Lives in ∞ -Gender: Seriously? -Religious Views: Tolerant Chaos -Political Views: Ambivalently Apathetic Anarchy Family And Relationships: -Relationship: It's complicated -Family Members: Everyone Ever Details About You: *I am. We are. It is. Impossible to forget but hard to remember. Remember that time you found some money on the ground? That was me. Remember that time you got so sick you thought you puked your actual brains out? Sorry about that. I love you go to hell. To be honest I'm still surprised I'm alive after all the crazy **** I've done to myself over the years from nuclear ****** bombs to snorting the ground up bones of warring people and all that jazz. Oh yeah, not to mention those times I've caught asteroids with my face.* Favorite Quotes: Wind, Farts, ******* Laughter. Life Events: Shit...where do I start?
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Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 3:26 PM UTC
Life's Facebook Profile
Travelling royalty, a princess with no home; Inspiring love and loyalty, everywhere she goes. A radiant smile, captivating eyes, Flagrant beauty, the kind that never dies. A lover of life, an enchanting presence, An overflowing fountain, wonderful decadence. The princess met the peasant – A man from a land where very little is pleasant. Clawed a path out of the dirt, Flawed, yet always hungry for answers, An explanation as to why we’re all scarred and hurt. Temptation incarnate, freedom given life – Impartial, a storm about to deliver strife. It was a spark worthy of Zeus’ thunderbolts; Worlds apart, yet tolerant of each other’s faults. Equals in their intellect, conjoined at their hearts; Immediate and mutual respect, Together, they could make the seas part. The peasant got blessed by the divine, The princess was impressed by the sublime. Her, with her presence, Him, with his essence – Two people who, despite their charms, don’t fit anywhere else. They found shelter in each other’s arms, A respite from their personal hells. Yet, the princess needed to journey once more, An ending to a story that leaves the heart sore. The peasant lay there, looking at his fields, Reminiscing, bitterly sipping comfort in a glass. He could do naught but shed tears, and think: ‘I’d give up every harvest, all my work and what it yields, To have you by my side; you gave me peace and strength, You made me feel like I can bend swords and crack shields.’ The princess could only stare, Right at where his hand once held hers; She could only think of the dare, The night where they both let down their hair, And think: ‘I’d give up the road, all my walks and journeys, To have you by my side; you gave me sweetness and kindness, You made me feel loved, breathless and weak in the knees.’
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Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 1:02 AM UTC
The Princess & the Peasant
Travelling royalty, a princess with no home; Inspiring love and loyalty, everywhere she goes. A radiant smile, captivating eyes, Flagrant beauty, the kind that never dies. A lover of life, an enchanting presence, An overflowing fountain, wonderful decadence. The princess met the peasant – A man from a land where very little is pleasant. Clawed a path out of the dirt, Flawed, yet always hungry for answers, An explanation as to why we’re all scarred and hurt. Temptation incarnate, freedom given life – Impartial, a storm about to deliver strife. It was a spark worthy of Zeus’ thunderbolts; Worlds apart, yet tolerant of each other’s faults. Equals in their intellect, conjoined at their hearts; Immediate and mutual respect, Together, they could make the seas part. The peasant got blessed by the divine, The princess was impressed by the sublime. Her, with her presence, Him, with his essence – Two people who, despite their charms, don’t fit anywhere else. They found shelter in each other’s arms, A respite from their personal hells. Yet, the princess needed to journey once more, An ending to a story that leaves the heart sore. The peasant lay there, looking at his fields, Reminiscing, bitterly sipping comfort in a glass. He could do naught but shed tears, and think: ‘I’d give up every harvest, all my work and what it yields, To have you by my side; you gave me peace and strength, You made me feel like I can bend swords and crack shields.’ The princess could only stare, Right at where his hand once held hers; She could only think of the dare, The night where they both let down their hair, And think: ‘I’d give up the road, all my walks and journeys, To have you by my side; you gave me sweetness and kindness, You made me feel loved, breathless and weak in the knees.’
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41
His mouth puckers to the side, his brow furrows when aware an assumption crawls around in the wormwood of his mind. Every misconception, unrecognized at first swells within, until his error bolts forth like lighting on the prairie breaks the swelter of a summer day. Meditations sooth his disquiet , perplexed by her perfection he searches for scars in blossoms, and defects in tree leaves. His mouth grows dry as he mumbles "there is no perfection." If he finds a flaw upon her cheek, or a birthmark on her shoulder will his love fade? Eyes staring ahead, his mind in a trance, he ruminates phrases " stay open," "remain tolerant" wait for flowers to bloom, rains to come and her to remain incomprehensible.
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 4:02 PM UTC
Fear of Delusion
*First light in the Hudson Valley Arbor Day of April, 1970.* Adrenaline coursed through our young bodies, our hearts on fire with purpose. As we rode our bikes, walked, or jogged miles to our rural high school, red-winged blackbirds called out from the misty swamps. Beautiful but invading, acres of purple loosestrife were rapidly taking over their wetland habitats. Harbingers of the forests, blue jays issued warning cries from deep in the woods, where blights were killing our trees with increasing frequency. Three of us rode together, cycling in relative silence, until we came to a meadow selected for our early breakfast picnic. We feasted on special fruits and cheeses, hungrily stuffing in rare treats. One friend began to send iridescent soap bubbles into the chilly air. Up they rose, up over the soft, puffy cloud of her reddish curls, and into the dawning sun. One bubble landed, unbroken, in the cold, dewy grass. We stared at it, somehow understanding that here was a delicate metaphor for our own fragile planet. Approaching our school now, we breathed deeply the fragrance of apple blossoms from commercial orchards all around us. The spraying of pesticides had yet to be banned. We were sleepy in our classes that morning; most of our teachers understanding that we stood now for something worthwhile, that we believed in, and they smiled with kindness, some even with approval. Our principal agreed to an awareness-raising slide show designed for our fellow students, teachers and parents. An intelligent man, he was admirably tolerant of the wave of changes that our generation brought with us. Smoke stacks, polluted water, and dying wildlife flashed onto a screen in the darkened auditorium, accompanied by the vivid symphonic power of Stravinsky's 'Rite of Spring'- a score so revolutionary that a riot broke out at its premier, in May of 1913. We had no idea then how much worse things would become. All these years later, we each do our part, blessing the efforts of our children and their children, hoping fervently that we are not too late.
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Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 2:37 PM UTC
Earth Day, 1970
*First light in the Hudson Valley Arbor Day of April, 1970.* Adrenaline coursed through our young bodies, our hearts on fire with purpose. As we rode our bikes, walked, or jogged miles to our rural high school, red-winged blackbirds called out from the misty swamps. Beautiful but invading, acres of purple loosestrife were rapidly taking over their wetland habitats. Harbingers of the forests, blue jays issued warning cries from deep in the woods, where blights were killing our trees with increasing frequency. Three of us rode together, cycling in relative silence, until we came to a meadow selected for our early breakfast picnic. We feasted on special fruits and cheeses, hungrily stuffing in rare treats. One friend began to send iridescent soap bubbles into the chilly air. Up they rose, up over the soft, puffy cloud of her reddish curls, and into the dawning sun. One bubble landed, unbroken, in the cold, dewy grass. We stared at it, somehow understanding that here was a delicate metaphor for our own fragile planet. Approaching our school now, we breathed deeply the fragrance of apple blossoms from commercial orchards all around us. The spraying of pesticides had yet to be banned. We were sleepy in our classes that morning; most of our teachers understanding that we stood now for something worthwhile, that we believed in, and they smiled with kindness, some even with approval. Our principal agreed to an awareness-raising slide show designed for our fellow students, teachers and parents. An intelligent man, he was admirably tolerant of the wave of changes that our generation brought with us. Smoke stacks, polluted water, and dying wildlife flashed onto a screen in the darkened auditorium, accompanied by the vivid symphonic power of Stravinsky's 'Rite of Spring'- a score so revolutionary that a riot broke out at its premier, in May of 1913. We had no idea then how much worse things would become. All these years later, we each do our part, blessing the efforts of our children and their children, hoping fervently that we are not too late.
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45
Exceeding tall, but built so well his height Half-disappears in flow of chest and limb; Moustache and whisker trooper-like in trim; Frank-faced, frank-eyed, frank-hearted; always bright And always punctual--morning, noon, and night; Bland as a Jesuit, sober as a hymn; Humorous, and yet without a touch of whim; Gentle and amiable, yet full of fight. His piety, though fresh and true in strain, Has not yet whitewashed up his common mood To the dead blank of his particular Schism. Sweet, unaggressive, tolerant, most humane, Wild artists like his kindly elderhood, And cultivate his mild Philistinism.
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2.8k
House-Surgeon
I don’t tell them I’m going to a protest, as I know they will not say no, it really is far safer. The police have been pretty fair, only a couple of bull **** arrests and cause white privilege I probably won’t get arrested. In a black and white democracy color is prohibited. I never have been close in a protest yet, the police always tolerant maybe the commissioner doesn’t **** I don’t boast to them about starting a chapter in my school. I don’t them that the chapter I started with them was finished hundreds of pages ago. I don’t tell them I cut class to protest the B.S minimum wage how I ****** the very thing I’m trying to start cause 
I was in a pissy mood. I don’t them about how my friend and I were okay with paying a guy trying to sell us **** to buy us alcohol, later losing 20$ and not okay with going into a tattoo shop for the same purpose. I don’t tell them about wandering around Chinatown feeling like we should be drunk. About the girl who in eighth grade asked me to touch her ***** and I don’t tell them how two years later we start hanging out— over facebook. She moved to London. About how she will be in the city the day my family goes away, about trading facebooks for fifteen minutes and having weird *** crap on my Facebook and talk of how Jesus is an improper child on hers. Nor do I my parents about meeting up with a girl who I meet a month ago at a pillow fight, and how right they were when they said ****** tables manners will catch up to you, about how leaving a protest cause "my parents are ****** and later seeing those people at the burger place. I tell my parents I’m chilling with my buddies. I tell them that I got pizza instead of burgers. Because friends are safer to parents than a nineteen year old girl you met at a pillow fight and how the entire time you could not tell if it was friends meeting up or people who wanted more. I don’t tell them the reason why I’m so ******* fragile is that I can’t tell if I’m manipulating myself or being real, or how I’m the only one who is hurting me, for fear of saying what I just told you. Now all of this ******* **** lives in me and I have nobody to proofread this. Lovely.
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May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC
What I don’t tell my parents
I don’t tell them I’m going to a protest, as I know they will not say no, it really is far safer. The police have been pretty fair, only a couple of bull **** arrests and cause white privilege I probably won’t get arrested. In a black and white democracy color is prohibited. I never have been close in a protest yet, the police always tolerant maybe the commissioner doesn’t **** I don’t boast to them about starting a chapter in my school. I don’t them that the chapter I started with them was finished hundreds of pages ago. I don’t tell them I cut class to protest the B.S minimum wage how I ****** the very thing I’m trying to start cause 
I was in a pissy mood. I don’t them about how my friend and I were okay with paying a guy trying to sell us **** to buy us alcohol, later losing 20$ and not okay with going into a tattoo shop for the same purpose. I don’t tell them about wandering around Chinatown feeling like we should be drunk. About the girl who in eighth grade asked me to touch her ***** and I don’t tell them how two years later we start hanging out— over facebook. She moved to London. About how she will be in the city the day my family goes away, about trading facebooks for fifteen minutes and having weird *** crap on my Facebook and talk of how Jesus is an improper child on hers. Nor do I my parents about meeting up with a girl who I meet a month ago at a pillow fight, and how right they were when they said ****** tables manners will catch up to you, about how leaving a protest cause "my parents are ****** and later seeing those people at the burger place. I tell my parents I’m chilling with my buddies. I tell them that I got pizza instead of burgers. Because friends are safer to parents than a nineteen year old girl you met at a pillow fight and how the entire time you could not tell if it was friends meeting up or people who wanted more. I don’t tell them the reason why I’m so ******* fragile is that I can’t tell if I’m manipulating myself or being real, or how I’m the only one who is hurting me, for fear of saying what I just told you. Now all of this ******* **** lives in me and I have nobody to proofread this. Lovely.
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48
Lay your sleeping head, my love, Human on my faithless arm; Time and fevers burn away Individual beauty from Thoughtful children, and the grave Proves the child ephemeral: But in my arms till break of day Let the living creature lie, Mortal, guilty, but to me The entirely beautiful. Soul and body have no bounds: To lovers as they lie upon Her tolerant enchanted slope In their ordinary swoon, Grave the vision Venus sends Of supernatural sympathy, Universal love and hope; While abstract insight wakes Among the glaciers and the rocks The hermit's sensual ecstasy. Certainty, fidelity On the stroke of midnight pass Like vibrations of a bell, And fashionable madmen raise Their pedantic boring cry: Every farthing of the cost, All the dreaded cards foretell, Shall be paid, but from this night Not a whisper, not a thought, Not a kiss nor look be lost. Beauty, midnight, vision dies: Let the winds of dawn that blow Softly round your dreaming head Such a day of sweetness show Eye and knocking heart may bless, Find your mortal world enough; Noons of dryness see you fed By the involuntary powers, Nights of insult let you pass Watched by every human love.
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2.4k
Lullaby
Fawaz Poems Published 7 Drafts 3 DRAFT EDIT Fawaz 3m Untitled Justice in the cage of injustice* I saw the justice being robbed and **** in the broad day light , I touched Justice in the Nature but in the societies I didn't really touch it, where is the justice? there are no justice in this country but not in the world, even if we see it the question is did the justice see us?no, They have covered it face. they made some people rich and made some poor ,They say they saw Then they go and lie , They put the innocent people in the prison, for a crime they committed not, They let the guilty get away And make the innocent people rot aways is this the justice we are clamoring for they made injustice anywhere to threat justice everywhere ,they made law below some and made the same law above some ,Justice must be for all ,not just for the criminals and the riches. The justice is the only purest shape of the voice, Justice with no partial is what we, the innocent people, long for, justice is for all not for some but if there still no change, I think a time is coming when the children of injustice will not show how educated they are nor how tolerant , they will come out with guns ,they will come out with cutlasses and **** the justice by themselves and the atmosphere will never be control again , give us the justice not the Caprice. The fragrance pen *The fragrance pen
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Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 3:39 AM UTC
Injustice in the cage of justice
I happen to live in Central Indian- Forests, I collect wood and honey And have no idea about English woods And Manchester clothes, I belong To the soil, I’m anti national? I live on concessions, subsidies And support, And You call me- ‘Dark skinned untouchable’; today I don’t have bells over my neck I’m proud of me, I’m anti national? I always spoke of empowerment, Marx and Che run my blood and I’m a utopian reality to you But you cannot ignore my voice I’m not outdated, I’m anti national? I believe in ‘being human’ above all- Traits, I live beyond geographies And I cannot stand war and bloodshed You brand me as an activist, I’m Just humane, I’m anti national? I do not belong to the 80% of our Country’s population, but I’m as Much a patriot as you, My God Is same as yours, How am I an Alien? I’m anti national? I don’t believe in the power and safety You claim with a nuclear reaction. I see only explosions and devastation I want my children to be safe, I love The world, I’m anti national? I don’t like vegetables, I eat meat- Since birth. I will not force-feed you, I respect your choice and I expect you To be tolerant to what I cook- At my home, I’m anti national? I’m not Pakistani but I love them As much I love an American or an European. After all, we share Our borders. I want to settle all Disputes, I’m anti national?   I married a man outside my tribe, Love didn’t notice his 'official tribe', Our children are a mixed tribe And we celebrate life as it is, We’re human-tribe, I’m anti national? I stand with them with rainbow flags, They deserve justice as much as you And me. Give me one valid reason to Call them unnatural? I want S377 To be scrapped, I’m anti national? I celebrate my country’s diversity, I don’t need your certificate to prove My patriotism! This is India, I stand With my constitution and its democracy And I give a **** about what you think!
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Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 9:21 AM UTC
Illegal confession
I happen to live in Central Indian- Forests, I collect wood and honey And have no idea about English woods And Manchester clothes, I belong To the soil, I’m anti national? I live on concessions, subsidies And support, And You call me- ‘Dark skinned untouchable’; today I don’t have bells over my neck I’m proud of me, I’m anti national? I always spoke of empowerment, Marx and Che run my blood and I’m a utopian reality to you But you cannot ignore my voice I’m not outdated, I’m anti national? I believe in ‘being human’ above all- Traits, I live beyond geographies And I cannot stand war and bloodshed You brand me as an activist, I’m Just humane, I’m anti national? I do not belong to the 80% of our Country’s population, but I’m as Much a patriot as you, My God Is same as yours, How am I an Alien? I’m anti national? I don’t believe in the power and safety You claim with a nuclear reaction. I see only explosions and devastation I want my children to be safe, I love The world, I’m anti national? I don’t like vegetables, I eat meat- Since birth. I will not force-feed you, I respect your choice and I expect you To be tolerant to what I cook- At my home, I’m anti national? I’m not Pakistani but I love them As much I love an American or an European. After all, we share Our borders. I want to settle all Disputes, I’m anti national?   I married a man outside my tribe, Love didn’t notice his 'official tribe', Our children are a mixed tribe And we celebrate life as it is, We’re human-tribe, I’m anti national? I stand with them with rainbow flags, They deserve justice as much as you And me. Give me one valid reason to Call them unnatural? I want S377 To be scrapped, I’m anti national? I celebrate my country’s diversity, I don’t need your certificate to prove My patriotism! This is India, I stand With my constitution and its democracy And I give a **** about what you think!
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55
tired of hearing "potential" in reference to me cause i only hear it when i'm being squeezed into a box by those who think they know whats best for me its a wonder i haven't gone ****** from all the pressure writer, lawyer, realtor, travel agent, hair dresser i don't know yet, i don't know! yes i do want better but how am i supposed to plan a career when i can't see as far as my hand in front of me i love everything! how am i supposed to pick one passion? is my passion divided among a hundred interests lesser in value than someones passion focused on one point? i can't help but think so. and it discourages me even more and its not just a career, job, and school pulled in all different direction i'm everybodys fool i have to be a different me for just about every person i see selecting aspects of my personality to fit the scene its not fake its not phony. its reality. i have friends in all circles, family in a whole separate ring i can't share all the aspects of me or i'd spend my time defending my thoughts, beliefs, and interests. i am so tolerant, why can't people afford me the same luxury? the worst thing is the fake smile and polite subject change whenever a parent of a friend asks what i've been up to when i can SEE it in their eyes, they are all thinking the same that i've thrown my life away, that i'm not a good influence anymore. nevermind that they've known me for years, that i've set dinner tables with them, celebrated birthdays, and survived puberty alongside their kid, my best friends. all they can see is another college-dropout who is going nowhere fast i lied... the worst thing. what hurts most is that they are right i AM going nowhere fast and it kills me everyday. and its more salt right in the wound that i know my parents have the same conversations when they run into neighbors, friends, family, and the "how are the kids" comes up how did a 3.7 G.P.A. and a 1410 S.A.T. turn into a 20 year old with a P.O. and a record. i know they love me all the same but i can't help but feel ashamed i know they wanted, i know they expected... better i've been decorating the same mistakes in different frames so i can pretend they're not the same but who's the fool when its you fooling you and me hurting me by playing fast and loose with common sense
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Feb 10, 2012
Feb 10, 2012 at 3:07 PM UTC
Brain Spill
tired of hearing "potential" in reference to me cause i only hear it when i'm being squeezed into a box by those who think they know whats best for me its a wonder i haven't gone ****** from all the pressure writer, lawyer, realtor, travel agent, hair dresser i don't know yet, i don't know! yes i do want better but how am i supposed to plan a career when i can't see as far as my hand in front of me i love everything! how am i supposed to pick one passion? is my passion divided among a hundred interests lesser in value than someones passion focused on one point? i can't help but think so. and it discourages me even more and its not just a career, job, and school pulled in all different direction i'm everybodys fool i have to be a different me for just about every person i see selecting aspects of my personality to fit the scene its not fake its not phony. its reality. i have friends in all circles, family in a whole separate ring i can't share all the aspects of me or i'd spend my time defending my thoughts, beliefs, and interests. i am so tolerant, why can't people afford me the same luxury? the worst thing is the fake smile and polite subject change whenever a parent of a friend asks what i've been up to when i can SEE it in their eyes, they are all thinking the same that i've thrown my life away, that i'm not a good influence anymore. nevermind that they've known me for years, that i've set dinner tables with them, celebrated birthdays, and survived puberty alongside their kid, my best friends. all they can see is another college-dropout who is going nowhere fast i lied... the worst thing. what hurts most is that they are right i AM going nowhere fast and it kills me everyday. and its more salt right in the wound that i know my parents have the same conversations when they run into neighbors, friends, family, and the "how are the kids" comes up how did a 3.7 G.P.A. and a 1410 S.A.T. turn into a 20 year old with a P.O. and a record. i know they love me all the same but i can't help but feel ashamed i know they wanted, i know they expected... better i've been decorating the same mistakes in different frames so i can pretend they're not the same but who's the fool when its you fooling you and me hurting me by playing fast and loose with common sense
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When I wash my dishes I wonder if it will crack the extremities of hot water mixed with lead steaming its skin making it dry and wet at the same time When I put my wet plate in the air the water dripping from its surface I wonder if it will become my heart the red moon that will drip with blood staining the floor consistent, but flexible When I put my dishes away I wonder if the dishes dry due to their exhausted fear from being touch for indulgence and thoes plates that crack finally becomes tolerant...
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 10:09 AM UTC
When I wash my Dishes...
Come to a common understanding and join in helping each other. Tear down walls of separation and hate. Open up the paths so that all my travel at will. Learn to be tolerant and to understand another's point of view. Remove the barriers that divide us and stop judging each other without knowing that person. Come to be of one mind in peace. To live in a world without borders, what a wonderful thing that would be.
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Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 12:28 PM UTC
A World Without Borders