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"toleration" poems
. **We won't be part of your social pollution, but will be part of the solution.**                                         *We are the confrontation                                                                 and the fight,                                         the declaration                                                          of human rights.* **We won't appeal to your expectation or narrow our minds to your "education".**                                          *We are the rebellion,                                                   your red flag of the news,                                         though toleration                                                    and a merging of views.* **We will not weaken under discrimination or be products of your degradation.**                                                                                  *We are the revolution                                                             and the sign,                                           the liberation                                                     to step out of line.*
0
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 7:24 PM UTC
Respectable Outlaws
. **We won't be part of your social pollution, but will be part of the solution.**                                         *We are the confrontation                                                                 and the fight,                                         the declaration                                                          of human rights.* **We won't appeal to your expectation or narrow our minds to your "education".**                                          *We are the rebellion,                                                   your red flag of the news,                                         though toleration                                                    and a merging of views.* **We will not weaken under discrimination or be products of your degradation.**                                                                                  *We are the revolution                                                             and the sign,                                           the liberation                                                     to step out of line.*
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25
I’ve summed up the equation for my isolation It's People who look up, look down, left and right Desperate for information We never looked inside for much needed inspiration Instead, We lead a life of impulsive behavior mixed with preoccupation for our own reputation I've lost toleration for the weak minded population Individual thoughts slowly decay and eventually cut off circulation Sending thoughts on permanent vacation, worthy of respiration, ideas now suffer suffocation If this is my "generation" I’d rather live in hibernation You can take this as retaliation I just don’t understand why we seek gratification for having no imagination? I swear, It’s like the world around me is nothing more Than telecommunication Different voices yet the same conversation Broad interpretation leaves room for destructive ********** Shedding uniqueness for trendy consolidation **Who the **** do you think you are? a star?** You're no constellation You expel no illumination Your personality is a narrow cultivation of Seedy corporation, Media publication, And lack of moral stabilization Let me give you clarification Meditation is my detonation Put words in your mouth before you die of starvation We all have a fixation on giving into temptation Putting ourselves in situations were Passion is stimulation, Trust is manipulation and Love is *********** Pour out your heartache in perspiration After *********** we expect a standing ovation *** is nothing more than sensation* ....are we lost beyond the point of navigation?
0
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 12:35 AM UTC
Meditation is My Detonation
I’ve summed up the equation for my isolation It's People who look up, look down, left and right Desperate for information We never looked inside for much needed inspiration Instead, We lead a life of impulsive behavior mixed with preoccupation for our own reputation I've lost toleration for the weak minded population Individual thoughts slowly decay and eventually cut off circulation Sending thoughts on permanent vacation, worthy of respiration, ideas now suffer suffocation If this is my "generation" I’d rather live in hibernation You can take this as retaliation I just don’t understand why we seek gratification for having no imagination? I swear, It’s like the world around me is nothing more Than telecommunication Different voices yet the same conversation Broad interpretation leaves room for destructive ********** Shedding uniqueness for trendy consolidation **Who the **** do you think you are? a star?** You're no constellation You expel no illumination Your personality is a narrow cultivation of Seedy corporation, Media publication, And lack of moral stabilization Let me give you clarification Meditation is my detonation Put words in your mouth before you die of starvation We all have a fixation on giving into temptation Putting ourselves in situations were Passion is stimulation, Trust is manipulation and Love is *********** Pour out your heartache in perspiration After *********** we expect a standing ovation *** is nothing more than sensation* ....are we lost beyond the point of navigation?
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37
They profit on your silence, and foster insanity To reef your identity, and fade you to normality Control is an abortion of instinctual fundamentality They blind us with a bleach of hypocrisy to fade us to their normality Gather once in number, to support the dismantling Fate of compassionate and empathetic rationality, is threatened by a lie of social justice in pronouns and prejudice This is an infection of our political mentality, to allow other views to be heard only if they align within sheepish bounds of radicality ******* Ideology. What insanity Can’t let it fester, or our dignity will be the fatality Disgusting to muzzle those who believe differently As long as it’s not hate, preach what you practice
0
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 2:29 PM UTC
Hypocrisy of our Political Toleration
There’s a bear in there! “ A bear? Where? Where?” “In church. See there?” “Can you see the bear?” “It’s a fashion trend With a flirty look. It’s a magazine With a gossip hook. It’s a leading man With an undead past. It’s a promise made That doesn’t last. It’s a lazy trend That wastes the time, And doesn’t relate To the heart sublime.” “I always said that We musn’t judge.” “But we must discern, Maybe give a nudge.” “But the Scripture says Take the beam out first.” “That’s exactly right, And so we must - But then we durst Turn a sinner back, Save a soul from death For His great love’s sake. Our lampstand must Remain in place. Sexuality May not ****** Toleration and Compromise Bring death. Not there the White stone lies. Comfort Gospel (Jezebel’s whim And society’s ease ) Is a preacher’s sin. Earthly treasure will Close the eye so The Light is dim Where many go.” “But Jesus promised His healing hand, Great plans for our future We understand.” “You’re right, He did But the problem is It’s not in the carnal His purpose lies. It’s in character building Through struggle ,pain And sacrifice Again and again, Until His children Can submit To his greater plan In a perfect fit. Until they can get A handle on His vision for Life And eternity strong. Will you go there? With determined tread And a single mind His purpose read? Will you open your page In His blueprint plan And download a copy To your hard drive, (wo) Man?
0
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
The Bear
There’s a bear in there! “ A bear? Where? Where?” “In church. See there?” “Can you see the bear?” “It’s a fashion trend With a flirty look. It’s a magazine With a gossip hook. It’s a leading man With an undead past. It’s a promise made That doesn’t last. It’s a lazy trend That wastes the time, And doesn’t relate To the heart sublime.” “I always said that We musn’t judge.” “But we must discern, Maybe give a nudge.” “But the Scripture says Take the beam out first.” “That’s exactly right, And so we must - But then we durst Turn a sinner back, Save a soul from death For His great love’s sake. Our lampstand must Remain in place. Sexuality May not ****** Toleration and Compromise Bring death. Not there the White stone lies. Comfort Gospel (Jezebel’s whim And society’s ease ) Is a preacher’s sin. Earthly treasure will Close the eye so The Light is dim Where many go.” “But Jesus promised His healing hand, Great plans for our future We understand.” “You’re right, He did But the problem is It’s not in the carnal His purpose lies. It’s in character building Through struggle ,pain And sacrifice Again and again, Until His children Can submit To his greater plan In a perfect fit. Until they can get A handle on His vision for Life And eternity strong. Will you go there? With determined tread And a single mind His purpose read? Will you open your page In His blueprint plan And download a copy To your hard drive, (wo) Man?
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72
I'm not sure you understand Just exactly how I work I'm not normal But then, who is? So let's put formality aside Have at me, uncertified surgeon! Let your knives peel back my skin! Use your blades to cut the organs So you'll see the stuff within In my heart is the place where I keep the love Protected from fiends who like vultures above Wouldst dare to steal my sacred store That will deplete forevermore My liver is a strange one, and yet You'd know what goes inside, I'd bet Therein lies all the things I hate Filtered from life and made to wait Inside the liver, oh so dense To keep the hate from the present tense To keep it all just locked away So I can try to be okay Then in my lungs is icy air That I breathed in, frozen, from your cold stare I thought you were jesting your eyes must be wrong But it turns out you meant it like that one Beatles' song Because I truly did not realize As I gazed deep into your eyes Into the soul that just days before You swore was mine, threw open doors Your eyes this time would shut me out What was this alienation about? But I guess you just snapped and all loving stopped You were still sane, but your toleration popped Which is totally fine and I have no problem knowing That these fractures and breaks had slowly been growing But I thought if we tended the garden of love And forgot all the issues I alluded above That we'd be fine and could just carrry on And though I still believed that you went and you're gone So again, I say unto you, uncertified surgeon! Cut deep into me and pull out my soul My heart's been ripped out, why not seal the deal *Tear out my soul with a smile and a flick And stitch me back up with the thread of past wrongs That each day I might look down and see That what was done was done by me*
0
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 11:17 PM UTC
Cut me up, surgeon. Reveal my unabsolved sins
I'm not sure you understand Just exactly how I work I'm not normal But then, who is? So let's put formality aside Have at me, uncertified surgeon! Let your knives peel back my skin! Use your blades to cut the organs So you'll see the stuff within In my heart is the place where I keep the love Protected from fiends who like vultures above Wouldst dare to steal my sacred store That will deplete forevermore My liver is a strange one, and yet You'd know what goes inside, I'd bet Therein lies all the things I hate Filtered from life and made to wait Inside the liver, oh so dense To keep the hate from the present tense To keep it all just locked away So I can try to be okay Then in my lungs is icy air That I breathed in, frozen, from your cold stare I thought you were jesting your eyes must be wrong But it turns out you meant it like that one Beatles' song Because I truly did not realize As I gazed deep into your eyes Into the soul that just days before You swore was mine, threw open doors Your eyes this time would shut me out What was this alienation about? But I guess you just snapped and all loving stopped You were still sane, but your toleration popped Which is totally fine and I have no problem knowing That these fractures and breaks had slowly been growing But I thought if we tended the garden of love And forgot all the issues I alluded above That we'd be fine and could just carrry on And though I still believed that you went and you're gone So again, I say unto you, uncertified surgeon! Cut deep into me and pull out my soul My heart's been ripped out, why not seal the deal *Tear out my soul with a smile and a flick And stitch me back up with the thread of past wrongs That each day I might look down and see That what was done was done by me*
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46
Once we were lovers mind, body, and soul Eros has flown, only philia remains Sadness takes hold, no longer am I whole Distance creeps in; the heart is inconsolable I am drowning in sorrow’s cold grey rain Once we were lovers mind, body, and soul Love is diminished, leaving a gaping hole Deep inside. Our connection slowly wanes Sadness takes hold, no longer am I whole I feel I am only playing a role Toleration fades, leaves only disdain Once we were lovers mind, body, and soul Failed actions have taken a painful toll Slowly dying, overtaken by pain Sadness takes hold, no longer am I whole Future uncertain we’ve lost all our goals This slow erosion lets sorrow’s madness reign Once we were lovers mind, body, and soul Sadness takes hold, no longer am I whole krs August 2, 2015
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Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC
Once We Were Lovers
Place the blade against your wrists Let my metallic lips give you a ****** kiss Murmur pain and pleasure into your bloodstream Incisions of my cold stainless steel falsehood Leaking liquid fabrications of happiness on your skin Stinging your nerves at the reminder of your failure Knowing that you will always tolerate it Just to feel the razor sharp rush of it all To feel anything at all
0
May 8, 2011
May 8, 2011 at 4:29 PM UTC
Toleration
a teeny tiny whited-out blank space, the tenuous boundary that separates, higher man from untamed beast, so powerful when respected, the crowning hallmark of human acclamation we all do wear by right of birth and breathe you see it right? that invisible peaceful white spatial, tiny yet palatial dot that separates us from rack and ruin, the mighty differential pause between in civility and incivility come not to preach or harangue, my counsel kept within the between beats of a mournful drum, respectfully and slowly banged each silent separation a prayerful plea, the inserted peacekeepers of our spoken words, employ well those powerful pauses that refresh the speaker and the listener so well leave behind your self-righteous disbelief in others' beliefs, that morphs into no toleration, an arrogant surety, that surely the anal-ytical results of your thoughtful processes, inevitability correct and brook no resistance the shrill strumpets of either side confidently worship at no church but to the false gods of their own mirrored reflection, who smiles back approvingly at those who scream the loudest... outlaw the outrage of your rage, come to my white clothed table, put aside the wrath of overbearing, represent your disparate conclusions with harmonious, breathable pauses to reflect and respect our distinctive and distinguished differences no one ever lost a reasoned argument that began with a considered, well tempered good morning *what has this to do with only love poetry?* ***well, everything...for you must love thy neighbor as you love yourself***
0
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 9:38 AM UTC
in civility/incivility
a teeny tiny whited-out blank space, the tenuous boundary that separates, higher man from untamed beast, so powerful when respected, the crowning hallmark of human acclamation we all do wear by right of birth and breathe you see it right? that invisible peaceful white spatial, tiny yet palatial dot that separates us from rack and ruin, the mighty differential pause between in civility and incivility come not to preach or harangue, my counsel kept within the between beats of a mournful drum, respectfully and slowly banged each silent separation a prayerful plea, the inserted peacekeepers of our spoken words, employ well those powerful pauses that refresh the speaker and the listener so well leave behind your self-righteous disbelief in others' beliefs, that morphs into no toleration, an arrogant surety, that surely the anal-ytical results of your thoughtful processes, inevitability correct and brook no resistance the shrill strumpets of either side confidently worship at no church but to the false gods of their own mirrored reflection, who smiles back approvingly at those who scream the loudest... outlaw the outrage of your rage, come to my white clothed table, put aside the wrath of overbearing, represent your disparate conclusions with harmonious, breathable pauses to reflect and respect our distinctive and distinguished differences no one ever lost a reasoned argument that began with a considered, well tempered good morning *what has this to do with only love poetry?* ***well, everything...for you must love thy neighbor as you love yourself***
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49
Oh, I'm sure she wouldn't mind being called Nana. But she preferred, Granny. She accepted that honor. She isn't afraid of the tag. And many grand kids cherish her. Sure, she has her limits of toleration. But like your parents. She assist in raising you. Some granny runs from the name. They still trying to hold on to their youthful stage. Accept many grannies accepts their age. Yes, she go along with the Nana. But its granny she loves. And from her children to her grand children. She totally loved. More then parents. In most cases. They dangerous when it comes to protecting us. Don't mess with G.R.A.N.N.Y
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Aug 31, 2012
Aug 31, 2012 at 7:41 PM UTC
Call Her Granny
Dead man laying on the bed in the morning, Dead man laying on the bed half-asleep. Rest doesn’t mean too much for the weary; sometimes struggle lies in every measure of time ahead. Countenance comes at a cost, the clock a ticking meter adding toleration to the tank; habituates hooked on routine’s stinging syringe, undead shuffling through the mall howling at their kids, drains the tank dry, no water in the well; if you’re not mind-full you’re mind-less. So the body becomes too troubled by the day ahead, Corpse pose comes before waking; it’s sometimes best to stay in bed.
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Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 5:15 AM UTC
Corpse Pose
I have to wipe the **** from the toilet seat before I sit down to write this, and outside the drunks are drunker than I remember. They slur their nothingness so that once again I sense comfort in an accidental, quick death away from it all. There is no chance of joining in again; at the best of times it is a test of toleration. This game is hate filled envy for the ignorant. Their confidence, quirkiness, complaints and compliance are the holes in my weary armour... For, the few occassions when I am truly alone I am god himself staring down at the landscape as if it were bare, with a face consuming grin as I write away their worth and, with it, mine.
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Apr 25, 2010
Apr 25, 2010 at 3:30 AM UTC
Dismay
Why can't I express my rage? My feelings? This disbelief of betrayal to a degree? I know you don't care, whenever I talk, you ignore me. If you do listen it is for a short time. And when I am finished, there is no answer. A sarcastic remark, no answer, no patience, and not one ounce of respect. Why do I try so hard, to just get a response, when even that is near impossible? If an answer comes, it's not helpful, it's a general solution, with no real fixes. But I guess you do this to everyone else? Because I know that's not true. There is no genuine kindness towards me, I guess you just tolerate me.
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Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 11:06 PM UTC
Toleration
In a clear cosmetic inclination Of my vast amount of limited intelligence I resolve what's known to sever the connection to oneness With my passive excessive alarming calmness I hide my humanistic conflicts in an unconscious state In the compression of unreleased hostilities I combat my unreserved civilities In a melting *** of unreasonable measures I find sensibility has lost its pleasure...
0
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 9:25 AM UTC
LOST IN TOLERATION
You can’t stop smoking I can You can’t ignore **** I can You can’t avoid drinking I can You can’t stop shouting I can You can’t shut up complaining I can You won’t drop that gun I will You can’t help silence I can You survive with violence I can’t Toleration with independence Seizing opportunities for peace Let the wire choke your lungs out Hell in front, war of apes Animals in the streets, Grodds Telepathic maniacs attacking blocks Rappers in the venues spitting fires On every head spreading contagion Zombies alike, transformers of Lannesters
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Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 11:17 PM UTC
Legions of Lucifer
Never before has such a lie been received as the truth As an I.O.U. that's masked within the words of I love you For she would not be here without the chivalry of he And she will show gratitude inside her misery It happened and it stayed and she said she would correct it And more time passed 'till she became complacent in her perspective Until she found herself stuck between a rock and a heartbreak The man who provided everything in return for a heart to take He built his world around her with all the wishes finite Not knowing why his love would stray away throughout the night And he knew but refused to know, she told but refused to say And so it carried on in the tediousness of days And who will learn and who will crack and which side first will cry Learning secrets and questions that seem to underlie For love was meant to represent more than a toleration The knight who saved her from the beasts and guaranteed her incarceration
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Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 4:38 PM UTC
Trapped
Revolution is led by the young The battle of oppression is near. Freedom bells have rung We've suppressed our fear. and we die... as you observe and meet and they die... while you drag your feet The world watches our blood, as it flows through the streets. Politicians clean their hands, with our defeat. and we die... while you negotiate peace and they die... by the hands of our own police This suffrage for toleration has come too far to unwind. Seems like a no win situation, unless you emancipate your mind. and we die... while you sit and debate and they die... watching their women ***** The struggle against tyranny will continue, until our dreams are realized. My town, your village, whatever the venue, our liberation musn't be compromised. and we die... to be honored by the freed and we've died... martyrs our last breath singing nasheed TG Summer
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Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 5:17 PM UTC
...And We Die
Those happy and the lovely faces Like brothers we roamed around places All those good times together we spent those memories now aren't worth a cent At least their true faces they showed The glamorous garden at heart they mowed So much in my mind for them had I planned Criticized me, left the blame in my hand Didn't see the glimpse of how much I cared All those useless and useful things I shared Forgave and forgave because I don't mind A point just came, had to say am not blind I may have left marks but never the scars Had I been hurt, still do I see them as stars 'Toleration' is what people lack Tolerate, wait, take a step back c. FATeer
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Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 1:46 AM UTC
'True Faces'
Isolation. My loner self's building foundation. The leading cause of my devastation. Isolation, the reason of my creation At least there's relaxation. Why's there even discrimination. I stopped all the procrastination To help with the world in manipulation I'm driven by self determination However I'm unnecessary in the formation I suffer so much accusation My will to continue is such an admiration Everyone doing something with aggravation Their ignorance is such a fascination Yet I want an explanation, What's the complication? Anything you'll accept as compensation? If you've done some observation You'll notice my only motivation Aside from my hate toleration, What kept me going is my impersonation Making you think my life's okay In actual fact I'm in condemnation.
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Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 6:42 AM UTC
Isolate
They say suffering is God's grace rejoice in pain the helper brings as a gift to tortured souls evoking love in misery woe leading to fortitude resolute in life’s decline there’s no place to go but down patience grasped it’s crushed this toleration leads the way stoicism born of pain disposition springing forth making claims against what’s lost building character as the goal twisted fruit from blood soaked ground seeking hope beyond the fall stumbling forward on broken bones now shame is lost to the void gift of Spirit that sups on gore that twisted love now evoked suffering’s end I’ll not rejoice. © 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180803.
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Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 10:24 PM UTC
God’s Grace
encapsulating my face as i walk down main street a web that catches butterflies for me to devour tonight while everyone is dreaming the sun exists there all around me illuminating every separate piece the grass-blade the bypasser the pavement crack a perfectly pieced puzzle -i must be the shadow here- an outlier an oddity the light spares me today it will come again when there is less to wonder about more to know suppose you find me here shadow and all i would say here is not what you are looking for you cannot scare this away and certainly it is not able to be subsumed resigned toleration is all but even that is unwanted pay no mind to the dismality of my sanity be on your way stop and smell the pungent odors of the pyrus calleryana the sky is not flat today the air, not stifling make it merry (if you'd like) there is nothing tragic about synergy
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Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 11:03 PM UTC
i, the accessory, and you, the accessorizer,
We live within the confinements of the five primitive senses, sitting on those fences of consciousness; hiding the forbidden senses dancing among us. Time eternal, infinite space in the mundane days of a cosmic taint. Religion ridden, catastrophic collision, there's an access to unseen realms that evade us on a daily basis. Stand up and take it, third eye peripheral. We’re all ok, we’ll alright, those that galvanise together, eliminate fear and encapsulate desire. You don’t want to hear me talk about my conscious state. I’ve been awake for days, Months upon end. You describe me insane, fearful paradigms - you’re lack of toleration in abomination to the spiritual kind. I can’t find you in those usual hiding places. Paragliding through those paranoid thoughts. You cannot define me without the provisions of a higher entity. Like this, it doesn’t make sense. You can’t find me without a logical rational mind. You can’t find me and I can’t even look for you. You elect to ignore the spiritual, mankind and human beings being human true. We humour you. You think you’re better and thats the start. Material self divides the divine and leaves it behind, you spineless cowards. In harmony in the planet as I watch it self destructive. Those beautiful principles, I’m disillusioned and lost in the youth of my forbidden adolescence.
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Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 7:05 AM UTC
lost in the realms between space and in time
I stand in the middle of my room Trying to grasp how I am making known my existence Because really What else am I doing? But my own days They're just a continual mess of things That never have any intention of being put straight So I stand here Making strange noises On a Sunday evening Not out of anger Or toleration Or objection Or joy But just so I can mark my place in time Until the next thing happens
0
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 11:30 PM UTC
Life Is So Strange To Me
i love your versatility you pair as charitably as a free agent i want your bold bits and knobby ends on my tongue mid-conversation i like you soft or solidly jealous green or dark hibernation I admire your growth's autonomy with capacity for toleration i always cook it sloppily blinded by the destination i like to go for quantity when i'm feeling most impatient i know that it's an oddity to get off on steamed inflation i have considered that possibly it's just about my own temptation it's not worth the vagrant comedy to divulge that hot equation i'll cycle back to ecology since i don't want medication i can believe in botany and your scents of motivation i can't explain it audibly just that it's instant gratification i'm lucky that gastronomy is so easy with your engagement i think your critics are a monstrosity to the spirit of entertainment i don't think you need a recipe you're good fuzzy, chunked or shaven i'm a hungry wanton holly firmly stalked in imagination
0
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 1:00 AM UTC
i
6 days. Just under six days. I now know that’s how long I can be home without any troubles. Then the madness begins again, and the poison gets stirred up, like those granules of sugar at the bottom of your coffee cup. That perfect cup that ends with the too-sweet, syrupy sip. Only at home, its never sugar. It’s comments that slice and words that sting. I know I’m not the only one. I see shit-loads of holiday mayday. Family reunions that have never felt any good.     Every family must have one--Asshole. But how the **** do you deal with them? Doing what any rational person would do. We turn to Google. ---there is some really stupid advice out there. For example: You’re better than them. “Walk away and they will know that they are not worth your time”. Well that’s nice, but you can’t just walk away from the woman who birthed you. Toleration keeps the household turning. I am capable of treating the “Sick” Yes--I can ******* vent. But how is it okay, I live a wonderful life away from home, and have come back every six months to be poisoned by those I love. Sorry, I probably forgot to pack patience in my travel-on. There are only so many times I can remind myself I love you. There is no getting past your ardor or your diligence at being difficult. There is no meditation here. There is no silence. There is no peace- I know--you aren’t willing to change. But I don’t know how much more I can take... That’s something I don’t think I want to know, just yet.
0
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 10:05 PM UTC
Things to know
6 days. Just under six days. I now know that’s how long I can be home without any troubles. Then the madness begins again, and the poison gets stirred up, like those granules of sugar at the bottom of your coffee cup. That perfect cup that ends with the too-sweet, syrupy sip. Only at home, its never sugar. It’s comments that slice and words that sting. I know I’m not the only one. I see shit-loads of holiday mayday. Family reunions that have never felt any good.     Every family must have one--Asshole. But how the **** do you deal with them? Doing what any rational person would do. We turn to Google. ---there is some really stupid advice out there. For example: You’re better than them. “Walk away and they will know that they are not worth your time”. Well that’s nice, but you can’t just walk away from the woman who birthed you. Toleration keeps the household turning. I am capable of treating the “Sick” Yes--I can ******* vent. But how is it okay, I live a wonderful life away from home, and have come back every six months to be poisoned by those I love. Sorry, I probably forgot to pack patience in my travel-on. There are only so many times I can remind myself I love you. There is no getting past your ardor or your diligence at being difficult. There is no meditation here. There is no silence. There is no peace- I know--you aren’t willing to change. But I don’t know how much more I can take... That’s something I don’t think I want to know, just yet.
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29
There’s a certain darkness and blue heartbreak, Ever creeping and crowding the feeling; Like a perpetual, incessant ache, Only starting to begin its healing. Toleration of the black does little, To invigorate the depressed spirit; People say, “Peace is really quite simple”, But rarely have they ever been through it. And though life can seem like an unfair crime, Through the emotionally scarring cries, There’s always one compelling truth sublime: The diligent sun never fails to rise. Having hope in healing sunshine ahead, Can help to dissipate much of the dread.
0
Aug 4, 2017
Aug 4, 2017 at 2:27 PM UTC
Sad With A Little Light