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"travesties" poems
I fell in love with a ghost Upon whose grave I have committed great travesties She was silent and seemed lost And my feeble heart could not sustain her futile tragedies The tragedies of millennia past, gasping in in-articulation The suffocation of a future already always lost, without observation I fell in love with loving a ghost Who saw past my eyes into a formless ocean Limitlessly there, she sunk and she rose But alas was not of my wanting nor creation She who is of minimal infinity Taught me nought about nothing, nobody I only recognize that it was her that never wants me And I who longs achingly to be in her vicinity
0
Jun 24, 2011
Jun 24, 2011 at 7:11 PM UTC
in love with a ghost
Tethered feathers sing their long lost songs in solos that were once symphonies Falling from swan-like wings of a lone angel and floating along a reflecting stream The misty haze graces both water's surface and the resting angel's skin Making the glow from her shining halo all the more evident See as she sits inside the arms of an elderly weeping willow Fireflies gracing her satin hand as the glow from her skin does billow The natural string quartet of the crickets under a full moon's glow A silent moment in a place and time that mortals may never know Looking upon the star studded sky that is her open field Flying with the grace of many a dove whose untamed beauty shall not yeild Yet landing on dirt ridden ground to see whatever it is she may please Trickling tears coming from your eyes at the sight of such travesties Oh angel, if feather must fall, then let it, but not one tear from your eye At this hallowed sight and glorious eve where Heaven and Earth coincide And if tear must fall into the waters under the arm of the willow tree May it harden into the whitest of pearls so I might keep it here with me Let sultry glowing moonlight be your constant company Filling the darkness and contributing spotlight to your scene May silver moonlight and silken feather compliment each detail And pray the moon does not fade away and break this scene, so frail Dear hallowed breath of the midnight hour, take note of this rare time So you may utter this instant in this poet's ear and turn it to hallowed rhyme The instance where an host of Heaven indulged in a glimpse of Earth And with a tear turned into a pearl showed what our instances are worth
0
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 11:47 PM UTC
Angel In The Midst
Tethered feathers sing their long lost songs in solos that were once symphonies Falling from swan-like wings of a lone angel and floating along a reflecting stream The misty haze graces both water's surface and the resting angel's skin Making the glow from her shining halo all the more evident See as she sits inside the arms of an elderly weeping willow Fireflies gracing her satin hand as the glow from her skin does billow The natural string quartet of the crickets under a full moon's glow A silent moment in a place and time that mortals may never know Looking upon the star studded sky that is her open field Flying with the grace of many a dove whose untamed beauty shall not yeild Yet landing on dirt ridden ground to see whatever it is she may please Trickling tears coming from your eyes at the sight of such travesties Oh angel, if feather must fall, then let it, but not one tear from your eye At this hallowed sight and glorious eve where Heaven and Earth coincide And if tear must fall into the waters under the arm of the willow tree May it harden into the whitest of pearls so I might keep it here with me Let sultry glowing moonlight be your constant company Filling the darkness and contributing spotlight to your scene May silver moonlight and silken feather compliment each detail And pray the moon does not fade away and break this scene, so frail Dear hallowed breath of the midnight hour, take note of this rare time So you may utter this instant in this poet's ear and turn it to hallowed rhyme The instance where an host of Heaven indulged in a glimpse of Earth And with a tear turned into a pearl showed what our instances are worth
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24
I twist and turn, Suffle in my Hospital bed. The drum of The dextrose drops, Plays as the background For my despondent lulluby. Clickering and clackering; The white feet On the frozen Hospital floor Feature the vocals Of the weeping relatives I do not know. A chorus Of morose songs That bellow From the valley Of faded faces Dulls the senses Of the patients In the ICU. Doctors wearing White garbs With darkened eyes Whisper to each other Like a cult gathering With prayers And curses On their lips. They appear To me Like snakes On the tree Throwing sins And travesties To the Invalid saints. I, fight fervently Against sleep. Although almost Twenty-four, Am a child Again. A child who Detests sleep Like the plague That took me. In this hospital bed I start my vigil; A pilgrim to zion Daunted by The task before him. Beset on all sides By treasures And trinkets That would Want him stray. My eyes serve As the lamp To which My body, A servant, Keeps alight. In wait For the return Of the master. An encounter To rekindle The bond In childhood. A chance To decide Which fashion It will end. So eyes, Stay alight, For your oil Will only Last one night; Keep the fight. Despondency May fill these Final moments But at the moment Of the master's Return The chorus Of faded faces Will turn into Choirs of angels And there; Sleep.
0
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 8:42 AM UTC
Sleep
Baby, If this is a dream don't wake me up, If this is real, don't let me sleep, For I've dreamed this moment forever and ever, Lying in your arms, am finally free. No longer am i a lost soul, No more do i feel the burden in my chest, The weight on my shoulders has been lifted, and my heart is no longer heavy. I've walked the rocky roads for a thousand miles, Never even for a moment that i thought, I wouldn't come home to you darling, I knew I would make it and now I belong forever to you. The years wasted and the tears tasted, Lost on the path with no road signs, people left behind, shattered dreams too, Everything was a travesty without you. I've been wounded and scarred, But you kept me going, And now I've been healed by your touch, And nothing can take you from me now. I don't want to look back at the travesties, Nor do i want to fill my eyes with tears, Thinking of what I've been through, For all I ever wanted was to be with you. Every step that I've took, Every tear that I've shed, Every sacrifice that I've made, All has lead me to you. The tallest of mountains, The lowest of Valleys, The widest of rivers, Nothing stopped me from getting to you. And now I lay in your loving arms, I don't want to be anywhere else, For I've finally found you, I've found myself in you.
0
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 1:45 PM UTC
DESTINY
Tears rain down endlessly from the skies, from our eyes imagine the day God's tears rain down acidic painful and tainted from centuries of travesties eroding the wasteland we so artistically painted with blood, sweat and hatred casting the Earth in turmoil and oppression one more great flood, inevitably washing clean creating fresh canvas with which to paint
0
Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 9:26 PM UTC
When Rainwater Turns To Acid
Oh Atlantis where art thou? Deep within the abyss, far beyond the maze of madness, bewildered in the wilderness, hungry 40 days. Hidden from thine eyes are journeys unexplored where life begins within. How do I summarize what lies within the mind of your mankind, being of a kind, man in kind. Concealed in the center of your mental’s universe, dictating life’s travesties and endeavors. Stories unfold, as the ages pass unfolding reality, unraveling the mystery of the conscious deep inside. For what hath thou experienced? And what doth thou have to give? Wisdom forever disputes thine intellects irregularities. Forewarning us of the days to come embracing the adventures that lie ahead. Trial dare not stop us hinder us or beget us. We must fight through the mystery of your history overcoming adversity and demise, triumphantly striving. Many uncharted paths lie ahead therefore unlock your iron gates, which gives us vision. Bid us to come in. Release what the pulse knows true. Breakaway from the pain that has you chained, hiding beneath, aiding and abetting prophesy, so that those beyond will see… Oh Atlantis…Where art thou?
0
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 8:23 AM UTC
Atlantis: City Of The Mind
Across the savannah carrying guns and behind them, a poacher swings he is a warning to others, to not come back they had brought death and destruction to those who made Elephant tracks What was left in the wake of these poachers were the carcasses of a whole herd even the young that had little tusk were hacked to death for fun these travesties of man these poachers These brave rangers will hunt them down bring all their crimes to face justice for the twenty they slaughtered just for tusks and feet ****** tusks and feet By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
0
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 6:24 AM UTC
Tusks And Feet
I too have been brainwashed by the sweet perfume of flower fields the rippling whispers upon a serene lake the jagged mountain cliffs the smell of untainted desert air by the purest drinking water brainwashed not by the power of money which has ***** such beauty stealing it away into corrupt corporate pockets padding your silk lined suits brainwash yourselves for your own travesties line your own coffin and gravestones yet you shall not touch mine for I wish to die not in your elephant graveyard of smoke and annihilation but within my own promise land that is my planet untouched by your mark of death, greed and obscenities
0
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 9:10 PM UTC
Washed Clean
Why do the best things end before they ever really start and the travesties of life never come far enough apart And that always bitter taste is never washed away by Johnnie Walker Red, Minervois or Chardonnay Why did the sun that rose each morning choose one day not show And leave me here in darkness with no place left to go Does this mean its gone forever never to return Will I never feel its warmth again will I never feel its burn Or like the phoenix from the ashes will it rise again reborn Over a freshly woven landscape no sign of sorrow, fear or scorn
0
Oct 27, 2010
Oct 27, 2010 at 8:31 PM UTC
Phoenix
Where marinated in our murky past have we found justification for the travesties we do, build prisons where our prejudice lasts, and allow its prisoners to fester as they stew I have felt this heat. The flame which boils in the toils of others, whose oils lick embers into wildfire. And we fall back into the Dark Ages. where minds who place burden on those with different skin slink flicking flint to fire, raising from the earth the walls we have spent decades taking apart one brick at a time. one brick at a time, comment by comment, each passing moment condone it. ignore it. passivity pays the builders of this monument. who see no wrecking ***** to stop them. passivity, fills the pockets of the petty coin by coin collecting courage to speak outwardly outrageous slurred hate speech contagious barbary amounts its fortress from our silence, one brick at a time. I have seen the origins of intolerance, holding together the cinder blocks of utterance all the moments we should have said something and didn't. In my selfish silence I see senselessness slip past my snares. In my hush I hear hate harrow the ventricles of hearts much weaker than the speaker. Loathing left untended like loose mountain snow will like an avalanche gain strength in movement. To you, the architects of abhorrence the creators of execration I plead:  lay down your urban dictionaries. Know that you lay a foundation whose structure will build  up, but whose existence will tear down. To you, those who watch the construction and stare in silence sufferance, know that although no sweat has fallen, and no aid has been laid by your hand, That this malicious monument is as much yours as it is theirs, through your willingness to watch it go up one brick at a time.
0
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 11:46 AM UTC
One Brick At A Time
Where marinated in our murky past have we found justification for the travesties we do, build prisons where our prejudice lasts, and allow its prisoners to fester as they stew I have felt this heat. The flame which boils in the toils of others, whose oils lick embers into wildfire. And we fall back into the Dark Ages. where minds who place burden on those with different skin slink flicking flint to fire, raising from the earth the walls we have spent decades taking apart one brick at a time. one brick at a time, comment by comment, each passing moment condone it. ignore it. passivity pays the builders of this monument. who see no wrecking ***** to stop them. passivity, fills the pockets of the petty coin by coin collecting courage to speak outwardly outrageous slurred hate speech contagious barbary amounts its fortress from our silence, one brick at a time. I have seen the origins of intolerance, holding together the cinder blocks of utterance all the moments we should have said something and didn't. In my selfish silence I see senselessness slip past my snares. In my hush I hear hate harrow the ventricles of hearts much weaker than the speaker. Loathing left untended like loose mountain snow will like an avalanche gain strength in movement. To you, the architects of abhorrence the creators of execration I plead:  lay down your urban dictionaries. Know that you lay a foundation whose structure will build  up, but whose existence will tear down. To you, those who watch the construction and stare in silence sufferance, know that although no sweat has fallen, and no aid has been laid by your hand, That this malicious monument is as much yours as it is theirs, through your willingness to watch it go up one brick at a time.
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49
Take a quick glance along this ragged path Expose your eyes to the travesties Immerse your soul in indecency Are you too blind to see Or too busy to look? Each step you take Is another misfortune misinterpreted As socially acceptable or politically correct Do you want to keep moving forward Viciously approaching infinity without proper perception? Or would you rather Embark on that same path Slow down your stride And make a meaningful mark Take a few steps back Take your shoes off And take a seat ***** your feet And make the street you walk on A visible masterpiece
0
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 1:09 AM UTC
Footprints
Suddenly it feels numb My body restive My words gone dumb. Muted grievances against the window pane Are wiped away as insane. Something inside, yet miles away Resonates a perfectly eternal dismay. Sweet are the tears that embrace, Coursing down the contours of the loving face. I ask myself, “Why can I never write about important things? About Philosophy, Politics and similar meanderings?” Reasonable things. Inklings of promising meanings. Instead I struggle with my tempestuous heart, Unimportant to the world, yet the most excruciating art. The pain and the glory Is the never-ending selfish story My childish mind can recall. Despite all this wondrous melancholy, I always choose to repeat my folly. Up and about to write I go, There’s too much heart material to forego. I lie under those dry lifeless branches, Sit, stand or walk around in hunches. Only the grass understands Under the skin in innumerable strands Pain is the only conspicuous poison Reigning the veins, arteries, Defining the venison. I couldn’t look at you much Since you drank from my cup Travesties of my past break-up And chose to inflict it upon me again To see if our old life Could be regained. But nonchalance has a way of defeating you. It looks odd on you, Like an unaccustomed parvenu. Love wrecks your heart like the shivering of an earthquake. When my insides tear, shrivel and menacingly rake. You realize that your nonchalance was odd indeed. I was the friend in need You fled the deed. That could have saved me From depression. Earthquakes don’t mean any harm. They simple do their job And leave destruction in the wake. Naïve. Nonchalant. Dilettante. They are not exactly wrong. No culpable intentions. Only humming a deleterious song. Yet We seldom recover when the grounds from below Shake. I thought you were the soft breeze, drizzling rain. But turns out, You are an earthquake.
0
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 1:25 AM UTC
You are an Earthquake
Suddenly it feels numb My body restive My words gone dumb. Muted grievances against the window pane Are wiped away as insane. Something inside, yet miles away Resonates a perfectly eternal dismay. Sweet are the tears that embrace, Coursing down the contours of the loving face. I ask myself, “Why can I never write about important things? About Philosophy, Politics and similar meanderings?” Reasonable things. Inklings of promising meanings. Instead I struggle with my tempestuous heart, Unimportant to the world, yet the most excruciating art. The pain and the glory Is the never-ending selfish story My childish mind can recall. Despite all this wondrous melancholy, I always choose to repeat my folly. Up and about to write I go, There’s too much heart material to forego. I lie under those dry lifeless branches, Sit, stand or walk around in hunches. Only the grass understands Under the skin in innumerable strands Pain is the only conspicuous poison Reigning the veins, arteries, Defining the venison. I couldn’t look at you much Since you drank from my cup Travesties of my past break-up And chose to inflict it upon me again To see if our old life Could be regained. But nonchalance has a way of defeating you. It looks odd on you, Like an unaccustomed parvenu. Love wrecks your heart like the shivering of an earthquake. When my insides tear, shrivel and menacingly rake. You realize that your nonchalance was odd indeed. I was the friend in need You fled the deed. That could have saved me From depression. Earthquakes don’t mean any harm. They simple do their job And leave destruction in the wake. Naïve. Nonchalant. Dilettante. They are not exactly wrong. No culpable intentions. Only humming a deleterious song. Yet We seldom recover when the grounds from below Shake. I thought you were the soft breeze, drizzling rain. But turns out, You are an earthquake.
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61
"My father was a sailor He sailed the seven seas. He took his ship all over He traveled as he pleased." Feel this wind upon my face Feel the water’s waves Feel their salty taste. I’m glad I ain’t lonely I’m happy I ain’t sad This anchor is my new friend Tells me secrets in my head These chains tell more than stories These chains tell more than song These chains have more than metal Got rust upon their arms. Sometimes it says it’s angry Ain’t got no will to live Above the sea on wooden decks Ain’t got no skills to give. Sometimes it wants to go below Into the deep green sea It’s worries gone, its troubles lost Stories buried within. Got money in my wallet Got socks oh so neat Got shoes all nice and polished All I’m missin is my feet. I can have all the riches in the world Can have all the jewels Can have the whole world at my fingers But I still cannot have you. Feel the rocks upon the shore Feel the way my heart gets sore Feel the travesties I’ve fought This ole anchor’s all I got.
0
Feb 17, 2010
Feb 17, 2010 at 3:32 PM UTC
Anchor Me
Tears cascade upon the Earth like meteorites as we lie in the flower fields of India far away I watch the sun rays play a story across your face we whisper of past transgressions and travesties done to us and how time moves slower here when we forget it all we have waited so long to find this dream we pondered if it were real we had at last found our way outside the worlds oblivious ways gazing into each other we see our reflection lying in silence finally falling to sweet repose as the moonlight draws us within her sweet blanket no other warmth needed but one another
0
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
Reaching
Might I partake? I do say I shall help myself to these delicious treats. That is, the misfortune of others. Alas, I cannot hold back in general for they are addicting. I prey on the weak for they are the juiciest. My glands have been salivating for far too long and I feel that what little self-control I have left shall be consumed by this overwhelming desire of feasting off others' unhappiness. True, it is callous of myself to divulge in such travesties that do not require my presence, but I ask myself: why not? It seems only fitting to devour that which brings joy. Clasping my hands followed by a devious smile, I shall hunt for these misfortunes, hoping to wither someone down until they're nothing more than an empty shell.
0
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
Gluttony
I'm drowning in the sea of shattered dreams I'm stuck in the jungle of darkness I'm left alone in the valley of fear I'm climbing up the mountain of insecurities I'm walking under a cloud of doubts I'm leaving behind a trail of disappointments I'm breathing in the air of frustration I'm staring at the sky of mistakes I'm marooned in a storm of sorrows I'm lost in a world of travesties
0
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 12:42 PM UTC
Dereliction
Ambiguously, he was boggled, beguiled by garbled goggles while giggling out the squiggles, to wiggle the signals free. Deliberately dallying in the Plato piety of proprietary philosophies, he, dastardly deemed, disaster to be, damaging, to the laughter in the chatter of the baggage handlers to another plane. Manhandler of a plastered paradise, partly in slices, of silly little vices of sacrifices, that shall suffice with vice grips on the lips of the negative with the spices of nicety. Lavished in lividly living uP the misgivings of lesserly lessons, blessing the blasphemy, in passionate tuck ins, snuck in, upon drunken hunkering in the bunkers of spunkier spiels. Languid longevity's of luscious lettering, lest will we, count our kills, never ever to leave a life festering in lectured structuring, besting the busy debuts, of flukless frugality, lucidly, counting the calories of calamity, and randomly rhyming without reason in season-less rain clouds, only allowed to put the umbrella away, and fade in play to the part, where we impart patience on the persona from the coma of commonality. Immaculately conceived, perceived as a ***** who adores hollow hearts, as we, haphazardly heap on the hilarity, in hepatidal waves, through fazes of the common wealth. Smile in stealth, love no one else, but self and end up in health, at a lonely age in staged stimuli, reminding me why i'm alive, and not allowed to die, while on rewind through the hard times, to smile on the last lines of laser driven lifelines, laughing at the fragile signs on the finer wines, as they break on the bowes of holy boats in bouts against the sea. Spewing randomly, he, finds satisfactory solutions to the strengthening of his constitution in loosened blue spells, to dispel his ruthless tendrils from your ears. The fears fueling the finality in his fractured mentality of maniacal travesties laughing at me. Its just me, unjustly adjusting for the combustion of the build. Its lovely here. Laughing in the lashes. Signing my entrapment's. Lapsing out the masses and forming from the ashes of smashed happiness, as it unclasps before my eyes. Sometimes It just feels right to be alive.
0
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 2:26 AM UTC
Flipwordly Fiasco
Ambiguously, he was boggled, beguiled by garbled goggles while giggling out the squiggles, to wiggle the signals free. Deliberately dallying in the Plato piety of proprietary philosophies, he, dastardly deemed, disaster to be, damaging, to the laughter in the chatter of the baggage handlers to another plane. Manhandler of a plastered paradise, partly in slices, of silly little vices of sacrifices, that shall suffice with vice grips on the lips of the negative with the spices of nicety. Lavished in lividly living uP the misgivings of lesserly lessons, blessing the blasphemy, in passionate tuck ins, snuck in, upon drunken hunkering in the bunkers of spunkier spiels. Languid longevity's of luscious lettering, lest will we, count our kills, never ever to leave a life festering in lectured structuring, besting the busy debuts, of flukless frugality, lucidly, counting the calories of calamity, and randomly rhyming without reason in season-less rain clouds, only allowed to put the umbrella away, and fade in play to the part, where we impart patience on the persona from the coma of commonality. Immaculately conceived, perceived as a ***** who adores hollow hearts, as we, haphazardly heap on the hilarity, in hepatidal waves, through fazes of the common wealth. Smile in stealth, love no one else, but self and end up in health, at a lonely age in staged stimuli, reminding me why i'm alive, and not allowed to die, while on rewind through the hard times, to smile on the last lines of laser driven lifelines, laughing at the fragile signs on the finer wines, as they break on the bowes of holy boats in bouts against the sea. Spewing randomly, he, finds satisfactory solutions to the strengthening of his constitution in loosened blue spells, to dispel his ruthless tendrils from your ears. The fears fueling the finality in his fractured mentality of maniacal travesties laughing at me. Its just me, unjustly adjusting for the combustion of the build. Its lovely here. Laughing in the lashes. Signing my entrapment's. Lapsing out the masses and forming from the ashes of smashed happiness, as it unclasps before my eyes. Sometimes It just feels right to be alive.
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16
your hands are made of rain. they are made of ice and clouds and sunshine. your spine is the bend of a meandering river. i can trace the mountains of your shoulders. your hair, the leaves on the trees. your soul lies in the dirt beneath my feet and in the blueness of the sky. but your eyes are coal supplying the brightest fire. they could burn the whole place down. they wouldn't even have to try. you could burn it all down. you want to burn it all down. don't burn it down. there's so much of you left to explore, so much magic that even you haven't seen. don't burn it down. i can see the magic in the river stones of your smile. don't burn it down. we have enough lies and travesties of promises. be the one beauty left in this vile world.
0
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 10:01 AM UTC
your body as forest
Ambiguously, he was boggled, beguiled by garbled goggles while giggling out the squiggles, to wiggle the signals free. Deliberately dallying in the Plato piety of proprietary philosophies, he, dastardly deemed, disaster to be, damaging, to the laughter in the chatter of the baggage handlers to another plane. Manhandler of a plastered paradise, partly in slices, of silly little vices of sacrifices, that shall suffice with vice grips on the lips of the negative with the spices of nicety. Lavished in lividly living uP the misgivings of lesserly lessons, blessing the blasphemy, in passionate tuck ins, snuck in, upon drunken hunkering in the bunkers of spunkier spiels. Languid longevity's of luscious lettering, lest will we, count our kills, never ever to leave a life festering in lectured structuring, besting the busy debuts, of flukless frugality, lucidly, counting the calories of calamity, and randomly rhyming without reason in season-less rain clouds, only allowed to put the umbrella away, and fade in play to the part, where we impart patience on the persona from the coma of commonality. Immaculately conceived, perceived as a ***** who adores hollow hearts, as we, haphazardly heap on the hilarity, in hepatidal waves, through fazes of the common wealth. Smile in stealth, love no one else, but self and end up in health, at a lonely age in staged stimuli, reminding me why i'm alive, and not allowed to die, while on rewind through the hard times, to smile on the last lines of laser driven lifelines, laughing at the fragile signs on the finer wines, as they break on the bowes of holy boats in bouts against the sea. Spewing randomly, he, finds satisfactory solutions to the strengthening of his constitution in loosened blue spells, to dispel his ruthless tendrils from your ears. The fears fueling the finality in his fractured mentality of maniacal travesties laughing at me. Its just me, unjustly adjusting for the combustion of the build. Its lovely here. Laughing in the lashes. Signing my entrapment's. Lapsing out the masses and forming from the ashes of smashed happiness, as it unclasps before my eyes. Sometimes It just feels right to be alive.
0
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
Flippwordly Fiasco
Ambiguously, he was boggled, beguiled by garbled goggles while giggling out the squiggles, to wiggle the signals free. Deliberately dallying in the Plato piety of proprietary philosophies, he, dastardly deemed, disaster to be, damaging, to the laughter in the chatter of the baggage handlers to another plane. Manhandler of a plastered paradise, partly in slices, of silly little vices of sacrifices, that shall suffice with vice grips on the lips of the negative with the spices of nicety. Lavished in lividly living uP the misgivings of lesserly lessons, blessing the blasphemy, in passionate tuck ins, snuck in, upon drunken hunkering in the bunkers of spunkier spiels. Languid longevity's of luscious lettering, lest will we, count our kills, never ever to leave a life festering in lectured structuring, besting the busy debuts, of flukless frugality, lucidly, counting the calories of calamity, and randomly rhyming without reason in season-less rain clouds, only allowed to put the umbrella away, and fade in play to the part, where we impart patience on the persona from the coma of commonality. Immaculately conceived, perceived as a ***** who adores hollow hearts, as we, haphazardly heap on the hilarity, in hepatidal waves, through fazes of the common wealth. Smile in stealth, love no one else, but self and end up in health, at a lonely age in staged stimuli, reminding me why i'm alive, and not allowed to die, while on rewind through the hard times, to smile on the last lines of laser driven lifelines, laughing at the fragile signs on the finer wines, as they break on the bowes of holy boats in bouts against the sea. Spewing randomly, he, finds satisfactory solutions to the strengthening of his constitution in loosened blue spells, to dispel his ruthless tendrils from your ears. The fears fueling the finality in his fractured mentality of maniacal travesties laughing at me. Its just me, unjustly adjusting for the combustion of the build. Its lovely here. Laughing in the lashes. Signing my entrapment's. Lapsing out the masses and forming from the ashes of smashed happiness, as it unclasps before my eyes. Sometimes It just feels right to be alive.
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16
Oh, polluted-full with noxious skies Of coal-born ashen rain For awful earthly travesties Undone the truth is plain America, America! Trump sheds his waste on thee And rapes thy good Your motherhood From sea to oily sea
0
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 7:58 PM UTC
AMERICAN ANTHEM (Ode to Paris Accord exit)
I fiddle with these words They lie naked on my tongue. But like a broken man They just can't seem to run. I've learned not to force this. To push this past my lips, A tragedy worse than my travesties. I'm still a little faint of heart. When rain falls it does not smear. It sticks, and then it drips. Well these 3 syllables are certainly glued, But we both still feel a little bruised. When my lips do decide to spill These raindrops it has coaxed inside, Will you know that they fall gracefully, honestly? They were meant to be taken gently. A cool breeze should encourage them. Will they wet your worn skin Soak into you like a refreshing swim Will they moisten your heart and not just your limbs? Or where I see a downpour do you see a spark. Awaiting a new host, softly lighting the dark. Growing ever closer to your extended fuse. When you ignite, will I be consumed? Does it help, when I state your name. When I beckon, do I carry you close to sanity? Or do I hurl you farther, Over the edge of calamity. Tell me, When you fall Will it be like raindrops, or a cliff. At least, tell me, when you fall Could you find it in your drenched heart, Or scorched lungs, To let me join you?
0
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
The Storm, The Chaos, The Collapse
Mournfully, I adorned the gilded bench Bereft of innocence and purity Warmonger-in-chief for the city Wistfully succumbing to love’s lament Suddenly, I was roused from dreaming In my peculiar, conscious slumber By the sluggish, haunting thunder Of a passing tram, obviously scheming It trudged wearily by my side Echoing inside my murky cavities Where I commit my ***** travesties The remorseful ones that guiltily I hide It’s with a sigh I feel that macabre touch For nature did not nurture me this way To be so unwelcome and unworthy of the day But I've loved so strong, perhaps too much
0
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 6:27 PM UTC
A Chord Within Me Struck
deep fried kool-aid in a purple Intrepid the scepter of our Grief; falters the Orion of our Agonies in the Least-ville of our Nova ! i'm about to outshine ! but before i can condemn my most recent assault on God's little Plan.... I thought i might Jam the Signal with a volley of Pretension in the wane Valleys of the Seldom and the Orange Jews. i'm in my hard January and your Carnival, rivals my Fantastic... you'd rather my dark be sunlit travesties, to Parade before the court of Desire behind  a chain-linked rinse. these snowflakes are  the ones with teeth. not the ones you meant. blue whales can hear us Dying, from Here. And You still Think i love you the haggard crags of our elliptical wards against a Pleasant Breakfast the scuttled broth of  sour tyranny and Nonsense you abscond with - the virtue of our wizardry, aligned with Hostile Invalids From Beyond ! have i said much ? have i begun to plunder the tripwire epiphany of the rogue star from the Unknown ? I'm in my hard January and the Spring in Winter's failing is a Crossing. And a Dread
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Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 8:00 PM UTC
I'm In My Hard January
Given the choice between your thoughts and voice Which would you rather have taken? A man with no voice is deprived of his noise, While most thoughtless men get forsaken. Genius thoughts to save the nations, Tragically lost without communication. Quietly live, then quietly die, Not a single truth spoken, nor the whitest of lies. A thoughtless life, deprived of strife, For ignorance is bliss they say, But after all is said and done, An empty mind will haunt your dying day. Both these options seem to me, Great and terrible travesties. For I must speak the thoughts I think, To catch you with their gravity. So next time your mind is a'clutter, Your thoughts spinning around and around, If you find valuable words getting wasted, Or silly sentences falling from your mouth. Ponder these perilous possibilities, Be thankful for both words and wisdom, Your ideas deserve to feel freedoms, Don't lock them up in your mind like a prison.
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Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 1:53 AM UTC
Separate from the Animals
This giant tyrant Moloch, of epic proportions, ******* the life of everybody. Galaxies crumble before it's feet. The voice of hopes ****** from lungs, by a machine. Anti heart/lung decree, fathomed, exonerated by release. Singing, pleading, saying. Come now breakdown and you'll cry, Come now breakdown and you'll cry, Come now breakdown and you'll cry, Come now break down, break down. no, longer the sun, a blacked out cosmos devoid of heat, filled with sorrows where feeling meet. A destroyed colossus, of a world, dead to the core, Destroyed, employed by death and set to gore, The eyes of saviors, one by one. Set to resolve the travesties, On free exploits of dreams, And of beauty. So come all ye faithful, joyful, and destructed, Consumed, detached, disrupted, And made up to believe, that we all have rights to succeed. Amputated laced with vines, holding all that's left inside, Of your minds erased, infused with lies, Pressures meant to defeat, to defeat. To defeat the cultivating mind, encapsulated behind closed eyes ****** in by, The winds of black holes, called leaders, And social servants guided by light, disguised by heavy eyes. I hate the tenements. The ***** consumed in vast amounts, Vague visions not in pretty eyes, But tortured ****** up howling nights. We wont be destroyed, roaches of the earth, a life inside fires pyre, No in distress, in detest, and duress. This place must be cursed, but we won't be detained. We are the dust of the earth, resurrected to destroy. This souls is excrement. This souls consumed.
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Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 1:12 PM UTC
Lendon's Howl
This giant tyrant Moloch, of epic proportions, ******* the life of everybody. Galaxies crumble before it's feet. The voice of hopes ****** from lungs, by a machine. Anti heart/lung decree, fathomed, exonerated by release. Singing, pleading, saying. Come now breakdown and you'll cry, Come now breakdown and you'll cry, Come now breakdown and you'll cry, Come now break down, break down. no, longer the sun, a blacked out cosmos devoid of heat, filled with sorrows where feeling meet. A destroyed colossus, of a world, dead to the core, Destroyed, employed by death and set to gore, The eyes of saviors, one by one. Set to resolve the travesties, On free exploits of dreams, And of beauty. So come all ye faithful, joyful, and destructed, Consumed, detached, disrupted, And made up to believe, that we all have rights to succeed. Amputated laced with vines, holding all that's left inside, Of your minds erased, infused with lies, Pressures meant to defeat, to defeat. To defeat the cultivating mind, encapsulated behind closed eyes ****** in by, The winds of black holes, called leaders, And social servants guided by light, disguised by heavy eyes. I hate the tenements. The ***** consumed in vast amounts, Vague visions not in pretty eyes, But tortured ****** up howling nights. We wont be destroyed, roaches of the earth, a life inside fires pyre, No in distress, in detest, and duress. This place must be cursed, but we won't be detained. We are the dust of the earth, resurrected to destroy. This souls is excrement. This souls consumed.
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