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"treasons" poems
its tha return of tha gangsta thanks to ya too many blacks out here livin' they life in fear families seeing tears problems tier blurry visions make it hard to see clear my dear cant get through the atmosphere feel me it's the return of the gangsta I'd like to thank ya Malcolm for giving me the principles and reaching a few people's opening minds to grinds and you'll find me chilling on the corner puffing marijuana yep I'm a gonna in society outlaw outcast put my thoughts on blast techs is humming cuz I smell war coming armies drumming po folks crying innocent victims dying for no apparent reasons caught in daily treasons which gives me a reasons to put an end to Americas sin but too many folks stuck in a fantAsy called reality in actuality they plotting our burials G troops overseas findings empty caves so the government can make saves war profiteers racketeering gangsters hustlers exposing lies don't be a busta like a Douglass no diamonds in my cutlass couldn't move so I had cut less people out of my circle I'm nerdy as urkel yea my intellect carefully selects what's real from reality I envision myself as well as my enemies in a fatality so battling me I was made for war built off the backs of my ancestors sore yea white house was built by the slaves for white supremacy kind of irony they sayin' my folks was lazy? worked up from Sun up to Sun down I can't believe my folks walking with they heads towards the grounds how bout we get mad and let off gun sounds pound for pound you know they can't hang with us that's why they had to make laws against us scared of rise and corruptions ain't a surprise through the eyes of real people who realize pain ain't a substitution for happiness bliss I guess I was sunkissed by wisdom mouth open hail Mary entered me and told me we all family eyes lit no **** no fit nothing but a glowing brain exemption of fame down goes my name in the book of life made wisdom my wife she took my arm she's my charm as I glance at the souls gunned down on plantations farms gangsta....
0
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 2:49 PM UTC
Return of the Gangsta
its tha return of tha gangsta thanks to ya too many blacks out here livin' they life in fear families seeing tears problems tier blurry visions make it hard to see clear my dear cant get through the atmosphere feel me it's the return of the gangsta I'd like to thank ya Malcolm for giving me the principles and reaching a few people's opening minds to grinds and you'll find me chilling on the corner puffing marijuana yep I'm a gonna in society outlaw outcast put my thoughts on blast techs is humming cuz I smell war coming armies drumming po folks crying innocent victims dying for no apparent reasons caught in daily treasons which gives me a reasons to put an end to Americas sin but too many folks stuck in a fantAsy called reality in actuality they plotting our burials G troops overseas findings empty caves so the government can make saves war profiteers racketeering gangsters hustlers exposing lies don't be a busta like a Douglass no diamonds in my cutlass couldn't move so I had cut less people out of my circle I'm nerdy as urkel yea my intellect carefully selects what's real from reality I envision myself as well as my enemies in a fatality so battling me I was made for war built off the backs of my ancestors sore yea white house was built by the slaves for white supremacy kind of irony they sayin' my folks was lazy? worked up from Sun up to Sun down I can't believe my folks walking with they heads towards the grounds how bout we get mad and let off gun sounds pound for pound you know they can't hang with us that's why they had to make laws against us scared of rise and corruptions ain't a surprise through the eyes of real people who realize pain ain't a substitution for happiness bliss I guess I was sunkissed by wisdom mouth open hail Mary entered me and told me we all family eyes lit no **** no fit nothing but a glowing brain exemption of fame down goes my name in the book of life made wisdom my wife she took my arm she's my charm as I glance at the souls gunned down on plantations farms gangsta....
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32
There are railroad tracks That run through my town And at night when I finally receive The silence I wished for during the day I can hear the faint whistle And hum against my bedroom windows I hear the whistle now. All my life I have heard the trains And I find beauty in the fact that even when I'm not listening, they are there The trains carrying coal, chemicals, lumber, and the better parts of my childhood As a child I loved the idea of the caboose Allowing any stretch of rail Any length of land To be your home Your bed And it was probably through this my wanderer spirit grew. All my life these trains meant something Escape But not without possibility of return I romanticized the long web of rails connecting all the land and Souls in the American night I have always loved such pieces of antiquity So in the latter years of my childhood in high school it's no suprise the love I had for Steinbeck, Sandburg, and Woody Guthrie I would lament to friends that the trains became too fast to hop, but I never tried I always sat back and watched Or listened on quiet nights Now my childhood has passed I am nearly 20 but wrapped in my head is the idea that the young boy who had train posters and pictures covering his walls was nothing but a stranger or a character in just another awful coming of age rerun But deep down that child turned to Ginsberg who wrote of boxcars boxcars boxcars And Kerouac who followed the long stretches of road to the western edge of America And it was through Kerouac I found Thomas Wolfe I feel I have Thomas Wolfe in my bones Thomas Wolfe who left home rejoicing train rides to the North Then realized he couldn't go home again Thomas Wolfe who never wrote a bad train scene Not all of Wolfe is in me Not the 1900s Southern prejudice Or the raving accusing of friends of great treasons, only to have to apologize the morning after But I can feel his need To write all I can To never take away To add add To never reduce because who tells Van Gogh "yes yer paintings alright but I need you to reduce the amount of stars by 30 and I expect it on my desk Monday" I won't take anything away from myself Only add So at nights When I hear the train whistle And soft rattling on my window Thomas Wolfe is with me And he loves the sound too
0
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 11:13 PM UTC
The Railroad And Thomas Wolfe
There are railroad tracks That run through my town And at night when I finally receive The silence I wished for during the day I can hear the faint whistle And hum against my bedroom windows I hear the whistle now. All my life I have heard the trains And I find beauty in the fact that even when I'm not listening, they are there The trains carrying coal, chemicals, lumber, and the better parts of my childhood As a child I loved the idea of the caboose Allowing any stretch of rail Any length of land To be your home Your bed And it was probably through this my wanderer spirit grew. All my life these trains meant something Escape But not without possibility of return I romanticized the long web of rails connecting all the land and Souls in the American night I have always loved such pieces of antiquity So in the latter years of my childhood in high school it's no suprise the love I had for Steinbeck, Sandburg, and Woody Guthrie I would lament to friends that the trains became too fast to hop, but I never tried I always sat back and watched Or listened on quiet nights Now my childhood has passed I am nearly 20 but wrapped in my head is the idea that the young boy who had train posters and pictures covering his walls was nothing but a stranger or a character in just another awful coming of age rerun But deep down that child turned to Ginsberg who wrote of boxcars boxcars boxcars And Kerouac who followed the long stretches of road to the western edge of America And it was through Kerouac I found Thomas Wolfe I feel I have Thomas Wolfe in my bones Thomas Wolfe who left home rejoicing train rides to the North Then realized he couldn't go home again Thomas Wolfe who never wrote a bad train scene Not all of Wolfe is in me Not the 1900s Southern prejudice Or the raving accusing of friends of great treasons, only to have to apologize the morning after But I can feel his need To write all I can To never take away To add add To never reduce because who tells Van Gogh "yes yer paintings alright but I need you to reduce the amount of stars by 30 and I expect it on my desk Monday" I won't take anything away from myself Only add So at nights When I hear the train whistle And soft rattling on my window Thomas Wolfe is with me And he loves the sound too
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50
~~ ☠ ~~ A ship sails empty of reason, captains fear the treasons. Silent and smooth is how it'll fall the cabin-boy shall take the bar. Blood can be found on every street, both death and life here meet. Life is a walking misery, pray god has blessed your destiny. Outside the people's empty homes, fathers, sons, left alone. Big Brother dominates, he commands. A billion voices in one hand. The ocean itself is a burden, your dreams will taunt the sugeons. Twist well open the sails to Rome if you flee the country, flee alone. Between the alleys at this mass the cross's shadow isn't cast. Those booklets burn easy, use them well let vain ideas fry in hell. Our viscious masters do predict the fall of  Troika and rise of  Six. A crew who drains such futile ink is sure to drown us down the sink. Save me from the grim Tomorrows full of hate deceit and sorrows. Oh, it's not about tyranny,It's human kind. Justice is never really blind. Behind the money lies our pain, into fields fall the rain. With empty pockets walk the road, a thousand stories left untold. I hope one day it could end , just by cutting down his head. They hunt down anyone not in line, should we attempt this, is there time ? Unfathomable , his hungry stomach calls for meat; rotting, green, foul and sweet. Rank food from the kitchens will be served, for all the glory he deserves.
0
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 8:47 AM UTC
Road to Nihil
Smile in morning, So easy with you. Time adjourning, Left nothing to do. Go graceful woman, As soft as the night, I have my freedom, But you have my time. I refuse to leave you, Even death couldn't rip me away. For all my treasons, I sit lonely today. Smile in mourning, Impossible with you. Yet you ask it of me, I know that you do. Gone graceful woman, So far from my side, But i stand with you, As day stands with night. I refuse your leaving, Even death couldn't rip me away. I'll be at your shoulders, And call forever today. My graceful woman, I rejected this lie. I'll give up my freedom, Give you back your time. The only woman, Death won't rip me away, There is no decision. They can't take you today.
0
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 1:10 AM UTC
Graceful Woman
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, pen ink cries too:( fines that cant be identified on the near or the writes put on paper they die they cry got my reasons for the sacred peasants and held daemons nurtured weapons earned upon various treasons came surrendered on your questioned gazes that i fond a sweet spot on my unsolved mazes unhealthy for the mind my ears brought up to a permanent blind you descend my pride to fault on knees loose cut on shortage of scenarios to choose amazement on the major dominance captive of my shoes leading calls to a song never told never sold --------ravenfeels
0
Apr 23, 2021
Apr 23, 2021 at 6:22 PM UTC
Descend My Pride
By Arcassin and Elizabeth AB: Flowers blossom, And sky is bluer than the ocean, And although it reflects, We can never witness the motion, Swimming in the sea of forgotten dreams, To let go bad memories, Holy treasons the enemy, Over lapping actuality, ES: Take the beauty of purity, God's pristine waters,  And cleanse the betrayals trace, A new beginning for our world, The dreams of past days again recalled,, In this our florid wonderland, Indigo streams bringing, Divinity unto man, AB: Desires to be rulers of the land, But not enough cargo on the ship, Tracing footsteps back to endeavors, Gods creations like wool and leather, There will be a forever, Sweat pouring from your head, And little red slippers, theres No place like home, Figures, ES: Come together all of planet,  Let one design be in mind,  Share and share alike,  Make of God's realm on Earth, A perfect reside of care, Toil for the hearth's fold,  Put to bed the weighty anchor,  Of man's disloyal fife, AB: And when it all has reached its peak, A set to sight on fleek, If anything , I'd give away my only soul, Just to save these families, From the heavens down to the trees, Everything has means, Saving purity for one, Exactly acquired two things, ES: To breach the storms, For good to prevail,  All begin of oneness to other,  Nature's orb configured with man, Co-existences yielding a field,  Of God's pureness, The flower's dream retraced,  For our world clan.
0
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC
"Pure" (collab w/ Elizabeth Squires)
I see you glancing at the brush, But our bristles don't hold paint the way they used to And for all the folly in our atmosphere, I am sorry I know I'm the one who exhaled the most Remember, your father told you, "We run the most standing still," But my stars have remained perpetually frozen Since my love ceased blushing your alabaster skin If you cinch the tourniquet too tightly, To summer's dismay, I may not heal by autumn And whether you whisper treasons of the universe or not, My anchor's still aweigh by first light Broken words taste bitter upon my tongue, And it's becoming clearer and clearer That you were my road to Arcadia But, as I am prone to do, I derailed us both I see you glancing at the brush, But our bristles don't hold paint the way they used to And for this achromatic atmosphere, I am sorry I know I'm the one in black and white
0
Oct 6, 2021
Oct 6, 2021 at 7:55 PM UTC
To Summer's Dismay (We Run the Most Standing Still)
Yes I am the second choice Not the first selection Always here to cure your blues Left out of the laughter Cruelty becomes you dear Hypocrite that you are You crawl to me with all your fears Cry louder so they can hear you Again they melt my heart She leaves you So I never will Once again you are together When you fight I take your part Laugh unnaturally Loud and obnoxious Misery becomes me Desertion a fact of life Glance at me with eyes of pity If I see it I'll rip out your heart Blood pounds through my face Leaving a shameful stain Battles not of my choosing For you I will always war Time nearly expired Violent to my core Forgive my many treasons I forgave you many more
0
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 1:23 PM UTC
Hypocrite
Benedictine Warlords Hold ceremonies in ballrooms Tie knots in dying children’s hair Demarking havoc to succumb Red X-es on trees Placating these Monsters These scumbags These treasons Against a muck they scoured A much maligned superfluity Of words, of thoughts Of feelings Of devotion Sympathy What of it? You’ve heard my ideas on living You’ve killed my attempts Superavero Veni Superavero Now go, before you learn what life is
0
Jul 10, 2010
Jul 10, 2010 at 7:12 PM UTC
Benedictine Warlords
From atop mountains Of debt We tumble, like The thrill of defeat Dripping down The quivering chin Of blood-stained America. To quote a thunderstorm: "All who question The efficacy Of God Shall crumble To an infinity Of indecencies." To quote a God: "All who fall Have not Been pushed, Those who rose Were not all Pulled. **** the heathens. Justified are those Who avenge the treasons Committed unto me." Waves of Iridescence Cleanse our pallettes, And we open wide For the next forkful Of fermented Excrement. Bloodied are our knees As we receive The sacrement, Trapped like rats Cast in cement. To quote a slave: "Bound by prior Engagements, Sacrificed to Advertisement, The seeds of men Wither in the soil. Blood weeps From poisoned skies While YES WE CAN Opens eyes, And seals fate Within fine Print." Wolves in Cheap disguises Bate their breath Behind red grins And finalize The list of Who gets in, While in the cold Stand the masses, Marinating In their own Molasses. From atop Parnassus, A silver-lined horse Watches the madness, And snarls and spits In shamed defiance, While Apollo Holds court To form the alliance That will interrupt The defiling of man. To quote a soldier: "Cold is the mud That cradles The valiant. Swift is decay In these Transient days, Where passive Observers rot In mass graves." Designed by the rich, Assembled by slaves, Our system Keeps churning, Rejecting all Who misbehave. Reflected in Concentric waves, The faces of children Contemplate age, And what it means To be forever Enraged, Engaged in endeavors That are only dreams. They can't be saved, And neither can we. So it seems, And so it should be.
0
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC
--Check For Pulse--
From atop mountains Of debt We tumble, like The thrill of defeat Dripping down The quivering chin Of blood-stained America. To quote a thunderstorm: "All who question The efficacy Of God Shall crumble To an infinity Of indecencies." To quote a God: "All who fall Have not Been pushed, Those who rose Were not all Pulled. **** the heathens. Justified are those Who avenge the treasons Committed unto me." Waves of Iridescence Cleanse our pallettes, And we open wide For the next forkful Of fermented Excrement. Bloodied are our knees As we receive The sacrement, Trapped like rats Cast in cement. To quote a slave: "Bound by prior Engagements, Sacrificed to Advertisement, The seeds of men Wither in the soil. Blood weeps From poisoned skies While YES WE CAN Opens eyes, And seals fate Within fine Print." Wolves in Cheap disguises Bate their breath Behind red grins And finalize The list of Who gets in, While in the cold Stand the masses, Marinating In their own Molasses. From atop Parnassus, A silver-lined horse Watches the madness, And snarls and spits In shamed defiance, While Apollo Holds court To form the alliance That will interrupt The defiling of man. To quote a soldier: "Cold is the mud That cradles The valiant. Swift is decay In these Transient days, Where passive Observers rot In mass graves." Designed by the rich, Assembled by slaves, Our system Keeps churning, Rejecting all Who misbehave. Reflected in Concentric waves, The faces of children Contemplate age, And what it means To be forever Enraged, Engaged in endeavors That are only dreams. They can't be saved, And neither can we. So it seems, And so it should be.
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103
They say we have two halves of a whole brain. Two sections that govern our actions Like tyrants that ride horses with reigns made Of nerves and weald weapons that shoot out sparks Of neurons across our synapses The lands of our minds that dips and rises like the Andes mountains Amoung cerebellum fields Where nervous horses hoofs trample Nervous systems flowers and bend their stem Into an L shaped pendulum that swings Unevenly over corpus callosum oceans That separate left and right. Art and reason. Two separate sets of war torn warriors fighting, One with methodically measured maps Marked with red flags between concurred lands of logic And one with holistic metal armor that clinks and clanks Around soldiers making music for them to march to They fight over proper ways of reason And creative formulations Of treasons that ought not be crossed Their trenches the rivens in our brains That wet rot their feet with slimy blood and Membrane juices The left speaking in tongues That right cannot hear when not Set on staff lines Or painted onto animal skin canvas That once covered similar brain battles Between right and left Only to be cut and sectioned off In improper fractions that yearn to be whole. If only the sides would sign treaties of peace With pens that pinch fibers together and bind Halves into wholes.
0
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 6:44 PM UTC
Brain Battles.
Soon great distance, Will delay us so, and so, No thoughts or visions, Can invade reality yet, Trustworthy you are not, And you conclude the same, I’d bet, yet this I promise, To save you the premise, Better things are coming, An end to your bitter living, Untwisted, no longer tangled, Protect and reassemble, Your broken self I’ll handle, From now through then, Live however needed, Commit treasons, Cast a seed, Wherever pleasing, It all leads to a freedom, Everything happens for a reason.
0
Jun 14, 2010
Jun 14, 2010 at 11:57 AM UTC
Us
I buried my heart out in a field, Beneath an old oak tree. I'll stop and visit it once in a while, And tell it stories of me. The life I live and places I've been, All the best places to see. The men and women who make up my life, Who know a story or three. I buried my heart out in a field, Six feet beneath cold clay. Deep enough to protect it from you, Shallow enough to retrieve it one day. To dig it up and check it for wear, Protecting it from decay. My poor heart is never safe, With you never that far away. I buried my heart out in a field, Far from prying eyes. Hiding the scars from my own sight, Wrapping it up in lies. I want to pretend that everything's fine; That the pain's been cut down to size. But that's not true, it's right near the surface, As my one and only tear dries. I buried my heart out in a field, I did it for selfish reasons. To shield it from this treacherous life, And all its mercurial seasons. The lies, the scars, the six feet of dirt, Just a few more little treasons. I buried my heart out in a field, And I forgot to mark the spot
0
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 10:32 AM UTC
I Buried My Heart
Wearing glasses completely out of visions He is the man not for all seasons Always surrounded by crooks and pigeons Chosen for the post with all wrong reasons Haywire, chaos and panic on all positions Forever smirking on his thoughtless decisions 10 percent to 100 percent, guilty of social treasons Harder on Mohammedans but soft on Freemasons Apparently deaf and dumb, indifferent on honest opinions Democracy had a glitch but not for future selections Wearing glasses completely out of visions He is the man not for all seasons
0
Jun 23, 2012
Jun 23, 2012 at 11:08 AM UTC
“Oblivion Stooge”
Or I would be, could be if the sea was a memory, distant periphery, granted sideways glances between sought out land masses that can offer some known substance, sore eco thumb prints making them seem special, almost terrestrially relatable, debatably to people, less contested to ideas, thoughts and reasons beating back brazen treasons of the seventy percent that needs to take over, its meaning is deeper than dirt.
0
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 11:35 PM UTC
I am the sea
A ship sails empty of reason, captains fear the treasons. Silent and smooth is how it'll fall the cabin-boy shall take the bar. Blood can be found on every street, both death and life here meet. Life is a dying mystery, pray god has blessed your destiny. Outside the people's empty homes, fathers, sons, left alone. Big Brother dominates, he commands. A billion voices in one hand. Absence of imagination, the End of independent thought. Cities reek of corruption, ****** and the greatest of sins. They raise and **** in by the millions yet only some men seem to win. The ocean itself is a burden, bad dreams require a surgeon. Twist well open the sails to Rome if you flee the country, flee alone. Between the alleys at this mass the cross's shadow isn't cast. Those booklets burn easy, use them well, let vain ideas fry in hell. Our viscious masters do predict the fall of  Troika and rise of  Six. A crew who drains such futile ink is sure to drown us down the sink. Save me from the grim Tomorrows full of hate deceit and sorrows. Oh, it's not about tyranny,It's human kind. Justice is neverreally blind. Glorious eyes of curve-free posters used as wallpaper for the cleanest streets. Looking up to their Father all good citizens try to weep the plain and empty tears the Party demands them sheep. Behind the money lies the pain, into fields fall the rain. With empty pockets walk the road, a thousand stories left untold. I hope one day it could end , just by cutting down his head. They hunt down anyonenot in line, should we attempt this, is there time ? Unfathomable , his hungry stomach calls for meat; rotting, green, foul and sweet. Rank food from the kitchens will be served, for all the glory he deserves.
0
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 4:37 AM UTC
CCCP
A ship sails empty of reason, captains fear the treasons. Silent and smooth is how it'll fall the cabin-boy shall take the bar. Blood can be found on every street, both death and life here meet. Life is a dying mystery, pray god has blessed your destiny. Outside the people's empty homes, fathers, sons, left alone. Big Brother dominates, he commands. A billion voices in one hand. Absence of imagination, the End of independent thought. Cities reek of corruption, ****** and the greatest of sins. They raise and **** in by the millions yet only some men seem to win. The ocean itself is a burden, bad dreams require a surgeon. Twist well open the sails to Rome if you flee the country, flee alone. Between the alleys at this mass the cross's shadow isn't cast. Those booklets burn easy, use them well, let vain ideas fry in hell. Our viscious masters do predict the fall of  Troika and rise of  Six. A crew who drains such futile ink is sure to drown us down the sink. Save me from the grim Tomorrows full of hate deceit and sorrows. Oh, it's not about tyranny,It's human kind. Justice is neverreally blind. Glorious eyes of curve-free posters used as wallpaper for the cleanest streets. Looking up to their Father all good citizens try to weep the plain and empty tears the Party demands them sheep. Behind the money lies the pain, into fields fall the rain. With empty pockets walk the road, a thousand stories left untold. I hope one day it could end , just by cutting down his head. They hunt down anyonenot in line, should we attempt this, is there time ? Unfathomable , his hungry stomach calls for meat; rotting, green, foul and sweet. Rank food from the kitchens will be served, for all the glory he deserves.
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61
Man broke into a million peices destroying the world and sizzling the faces that the God thought they made in Grace But there were many reasons and many treasons that said They were destined to no longer Have any season Through the thick of the trees Love snapped and grasped The idea that man is merely an insect, a plague A fire that started and hasn't stopped burning Where were the angels when mistakes were made And streets were not obeyed And New York burned And Love turned in on itself Where phone calls became abolishments And tears fell down the faces of a thousand ridicules The in between became seen as all the while Exhaustion ****** its way into oblivion With welfare daring And poor men sit staring With faces that twirl in my sight The after delight Gun fire and marmadukes and flowers bleeding blood All of the above The formation of a million roses burning a soft hue of blue Remembrances of what it used to mean To be a child Running around with no one caring if you lived or died Or ever even tried For they forgave your stupidity Your naievty And now we make mistakes of a illusions of grandeur This is how we will die and this is how we will begin Again The scratching of the God's is upon us And we don't even hear it We don't even smell it We don't even sense it Because we have forgotten We have forgotten We have forgotten Because we are all so On top of it
0
May 3, 2011
May 3, 2011 at 6:59 AM UTC
We've Forgotten
I am fighting fighting in the dark for you forward to this great surprise I will not lose, you cannot die treasons all around me I stand firm armored against their blades that cut and tear me to shreds anchored as one we will prevail is this where the cards fall short of a daydream you said you'd be there in the end I cant seem to find the last line that draws in time, unfolding this horror this love is growing always and thanks to me this existence is over gave all my energy to you what a mistake to make we could have let go but we held on black paper hearts hang in the dark honoring once upon a time we were so blind © 2009 joshua deathdealer
0
May 7, 2012
May 7, 2012 at 5:27 PM UTC
black paper hearts
When a child asks you questions While they are learning of this world Never anwser them directly Instead help them to test personally To understand and see This is logic! Michanics, mathematics and reason. But soon They will find themselves privy to treasons Liers and cheats mix with fools in deceit With the tools of logic this is plan be seen You must teach them the art of rhetoric To stop those who would just cause havoc For if the wise are Ill equipped Our idiots will face the whip Believing they deserve of it The human beaten out of them The monsters spawned left free to swim Let this warning full sink in For next my kin comes academ The weight of fate! In the hands of mammalia To come up to speed In the fridge of ideas There you may study Above all the turnery To lift up our people In rightness and honesty Solving lifes problems Improving its quality For all who have yet to come
0
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 8:54 PM UTC
Preserve Trivium Education
Greatness holds itself up and The presents are all wrapped When there was time to love Was when everything was alright I see the horizon with its brilliance She ended up keeping all of it Where I am left with only a stamp n' a letter But life could not get any better No, life could not get any better Swing on, swing through, drink the rest of my ***** We got enough money for the rest of the hour Swing front and swing back As you can see, I've already lost track Where I was going I never did rightly know The only road worth knowing Is the one where you get lost Each pebble in hand is one I desire to toss If you've found someone else let me know These minutes that tick by run me through Like a glimmering dagger I'm crippled, there is nothing I can do How you swore to me underneath that moonlight With milk splattered cascading stars How you made me think all would be right In that infamous, shadowy night But the treasons of reason never eluded me I could see through them like crystal Who said we were all inherently good? The cross is heavy though they used the best wood A telling promise of the world at large The battle cry has sounded, but there is no charge Lost at sea by boat with no anchor A thousand pens but no paper
0
Jul 13, 2012
Jul 13, 2012 at 5:28 AM UTC
Untitled
What ever you do What ever you say No matter how It always ends this way Take yourself for a fool Take everyone else too! Leave the reasons Leave the treasons The world isn't made easy for people like you It's designed  for the soulless, Take pride in your difference keep doing what you do Take your prize in the heavens Where it all shines for you The commander of a fleet of angels Who break their wings trying to, save a soul like me a spiritual fool From an everlasting death.
0
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 10:00 AM UTC
If heaven is just harps and smiles I'm coming back!
de brief of the daily motions one spin , two spins , three sattalite drop , ******* stop , bus , hop , people move plants grove static motion less wheel sick to the bone with who should have dones and who could have beens now i exist as i am with stable heart beat glows - leaves drift onto beds of mush and the autumn color turns dirt to rust and white chestnuts with green shoots we made it - it's the hill. the hill that feels there is a pulse we're still alive . De-Brief the consumers are dead and the masses are free the slaves turned master the master turned greed the master turned needy - to be saved by those he mis treated wanted. for treasons, crimes against the hound crimes against the natural zone crimes against one's own i kept dreaming to see the day and it has arrived.... the dominos first fell in my mind and mind alone tangible aspects were no more than prospects and no more than silt on soils floor hip hop stop cash flow drop so low so fro go
0
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 7:37 PM UTC
Untitled
Trust, ties, tears, tears; With setting rising sun, just Truth remains. Trinity's traits transcending to transcript, The temple trusting the tryst to tall togas; Truces, tangs, tangles, tags, teams, with tricks or trills are tackled, tamed by Those trained to taste the towering truth. Taints, taboos, tattoos; With cycling of seasons, only Truth stays there. Transgressing traps, talons, treasons, Thorns, thongs, tides translucent; These tapes, talks, tales transient, Are trifles, tickles, trivial, trite; To tribes treading the track of truth. Talents, tacts, top techs; Against infinite labyrinth, Truth alone can pass. Taut troops trotting the toiling trek; Taunting, tapering the tonnage of trash; Transversing tough tests of tempts, Are trails of tiring trials, For Those who treble the tone of truth. Thrashing traumas to transfixing trance; With beast or with beauty, Truth belongs to soul. Through love and death, the true timeless tapestries; Life translates to truth, and becomes a happy moment; The moment which is forever.
0
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 9:57 AM UTC
Ts
There are so many styles Behind the many treasons Inside the miles Beside the aching reasons That you’ve sold to me. Find solid ground outside of town Outside of your mind Your third eye is closed Open it up and begin to live Like tomorrow is today And yesterday We will be okay All of their faces there were lost inside My mind likes to keep things to itself Away from me You’ve been away from me Are you still the same? Or am I the only one who has changed I hope my face will stay the same and my eyes still stay covered with lame excuses Of Why I can’t see you again tonight So, I’m gone… I’ve gone away I’m a ghost in your mind Your third eye is closed So open it up and reveal the truth inside the true terrors collide with your best dreams and colours aren’t what you see But ninety shades of grey hidden in between Your memory of what has been ****** since They tore your heart out and ate you from behind the seams Behind the scenes of my worst day You were there in my head You’re gone You’ve gone away Follow the reaper to the cellar Hear my voice call out I’m going away now Too late to say everything Now You say… I’m gone I have gone away Try and figure me out Now…
0
Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 2:31 PM UTC
There Were So Many More
the movers the shakers the doers the bakers the candle stick and rocket ship makers a race of captains setting course on circles of pyres bereft of remorse parsing madness with words in reasons on reasons giving life meaning against inner treasons founded on tissue thin mental accumulations biases and ticks and vague assimilations with subconscious shadows over Palimpsest traces we are convinced we know our places building the self on struggling riffs captains of the dual navigating ships occupying armies assassins lens horrible secrets terrible rends are we not in control making choices weighing and calibrating hearing whos voices thinking there our own between good and bad but outcomes are crazy dragging mad do we choose thoughts from shrunken forms from rotten gods in darkest storms or perhaps possessed by invisible believers pulp hearted  creatures pulling our leavers that possess our soul choose for you what you think and what you do emanations from spheres through our core to our brain ephemeral forces a patinaed, puce stained skyway of cruelty kamikazes dread goon gods crossing each other poxed ash moon can we stop reflexing with brazen compulsions can we stop lying with wrenched emotions can we defy the elements make someone care transcend all that harms and bring love to bare can we shed all we know choose to move on and choose to let go are we trapped in space and time will we not struggle Sisyphean blind or are we mere avatars in a game from x box acting out our program like a hunted down fox we have five senses to get through the day with infinitely more we could smooth out our way brains like thumb stumps form violence and hell hooves of dragons we buy and sell what is a puppet it moves as its pulled by forces beyond it is that why we are fooled are we deluded that we are the doer's could we be puppet souls of gods that are losers
0
Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 7:27 AM UTC
Puppet Souls
the movers the shakers the doers the bakers the candle stick and rocket ship makers a race of captains setting course on circles of pyres bereft of remorse parsing madness with words in reasons on reasons giving life meaning against inner treasons founded on tissue thin mental accumulations biases and ticks and vague assimilations with subconscious shadows over Palimpsest traces we are convinced we know our places building the self on struggling riffs captains of the dual navigating ships occupying armies assassins lens horrible secrets terrible rends are we not in control making choices weighing and calibrating hearing whos voices thinking there our own between good and bad but outcomes are crazy dragging mad do we choose thoughts from shrunken forms from rotten gods in darkest storms or perhaps possessed by invisible believers pulp hearted  creatures pulling our leavers that possess our soul choose for you what you think and what you do emanations from spheres through our core to our brain ephemeral forces a patinaed, puce stained skyway of cruelty kamikazes dread goon gods crossing each other poxed ash moon can we stop reflexing with brazen compulsions can we stop lying with wrenched emotions can we defy the elements make someone care transcend all that harms and bring love to bare can we shed all we know choose to move on and choose to let go are we trapped in space and time will we not struggle Sisyphean blind or are we mere avatars in a game from x box acting out our program like a hunted down fox we have five senses to get through the day with infinitely more we could smooth out our way brains like thumb stumps form violence and hell hooves of dragons we buy and sell what is a puppet it moves as its pulled by forces beyond it is that why we are fooled are we deluded that we are the doer's could we be puppet souls of gods that are losers
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