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"unequally" poems
I'm a fan of Vontaze Burfict Though he may not be perfect For he gives players concussions To continue the daily discussions Of the power of his percussion To receive a hall of fame induction That is where his value is derived So what do these penalties imply? That the referees have a preconceived notion of him And are preemptively looking to treat him grim Which gives his team a lesser chance to win Which makes the biased referees grin We are a country that idolizes quarterbacks Every other position we're quick to attack We only care about who has the ball And laughing at others when they fall We worship that which is shiny And view everything else as grimy Quarterbacks become celebrities incredulously While everyone else is treated impetuously The NFL is like America Politics makes it harder to watch The Patriots are boring and plain They win constantly The Bengals are entertaining and rough around the edges They show promise and potential that is never realized In a nation Of provocation I'd rather proudly call myself a bengal I know that seems an idealistic angle But Cincinnati provides no coziness or protection You must always avoid discriminate detection Of those that call themselves patriots That drive blue and white chariots And penalize players unnecessarily For African Americanning We really fumbled the ball Because of the ref's call That treats us unequally How they have fun evilly They can arbitrarily treat whoever however But a concussion will make them less clever
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Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC
Vontaze Burfict
I'm a fan of Vontaze Burfict Though he may not be perfect For he gives players concussions To continue the daily discussions Of the power of his percussion To receive a hall of fame induction That is where his value is derived So what do these penalties imply? That the referees have a preconceived notion of him And are preemptively looking to treat him grim Which gives his team a lesser chance to win Which makes the biased referees grin We are a country that idolizes quarterbacks Every other position we're quick to attack We only care about who has the ball And laughing at others when they fall We worship that which is shiny And view everything else as grimy Quarterbacks become celebrities incredulously While everyone else is treated impetuously The NFL is like America Politics makes it harder to watch The Patriots are boring and plain They win constantly The Bengals are entertaining and rough around the edges They show promise and potential that is never realized In a nation Of provocation I'd rather proudly call myself a bengal I know that seems an idealistic angle But Cincinnati provides no coziness or protection You must always avoid discriminate detection Of those that call themselves patriots That drive blue and white chariots And penalize players unnecessarily For African Americanning We really fumbled the ball Because of the ref's call That treats us unequally How they have fun evilly They can arbitrarily treat whoever however But a concussion will make them less clever
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There'll come a day when you conquer L.A. And it won't be cause of your pretty eyes. It will be cause they went from red to wise. There'll come a day when you conquer L.A. There'll come a day. Tears dry, they don't stay. It won't be cause you stooped to lies, it'll just dawn, like you were born to rise. It's no mystery, love, we are born in slavery, not to flee, but to learn how to walk free. It's no mystery. We all suffer you see, albeit unequally. Life will guarantee a ride to make your eyes go wide. Don't close 'em. Keep your balance on the tide. Some days, there'll be someone by your side, sometimes their hands will be tied. No need to scream. No need to hide. Don't forget it's just a ride. How can we smile if we don't weep? How can we dream if we don't sleep? You'll sail through waters dark and deep to reach mountains I promise are steep. And when you feel you've travelled enough, when your tired and the sea looks too rough, the blood on your feet will prove you're tough. It will grease your ankles and loosen the cuff. There'll come a day when you don't need to pray, a winters day with your very own personal ray.
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Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 9:21 AM UTC
L.A.mentary
Adoringly applauding Arrogant acrobatic aristocratic, Bourgeois bad-boys. Braving boredom and bills, Caught controlling criminal Circles like a circus. Daring to do, and to deceive Desperate damsels in distress, Each accepting enemies. Everyone explaining elements From the final fights Frought with frustration. Getting groovy- grown old Garnering glittering gold. Holidaying in Getafé, Holding onto hands of harlots, Implying impotence and insolence, Ignorant in their ilk. Jovially joking, Jesting about juvenile jealousies; "I kissed Katie Kurtis" Knowingly comments one kid. Left to love and lose, Like Caesar and his laurels, Making music and malice, Manifesting manic malpractices. Natalie narrates, "Not now, not ever". Obvious obstacles avoided, Objectifying objects that are obsolete. Praying, pondering over pros, False prophets photographed as they pose. Qualifying quangos, Quantitative quelling of queries, Raising riots and runctions, Realising regal and royal remedies, Celebrating summer solstice, Solitude is bliss. Try tampering telephones To transcribe threat of treason, Unreal unilateral promises Unwound by underlying urchins. Vowing to voice very real values, Vox pop video views. Wearing water coloured wellingtons, Wondering over wax cuneiform works. Xylophone playing exemplary, Xavier exists in the imaginary. Yearly yearning for you, You're yoked as Gonne with Yeats (unequally) Zeroing in on Ritz and Rubble, Rubble the Zealots want to reign.
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Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 6:43 PM UTC
Alphabet Soup
Poetry. There is no friend so fickle. No creature on earth more heartless. No obsession as inexplicable. Pick up a poem, and begin to read. With no idea what to expect. It could leave you in tatters or instill in you joy. But most likely it’ll have no effect. Most poems are forgotten, Though some stand the test of time. Their author's corpses have long since rotten. Yet they are still recited. Line by line. Regardless of what these poems do to you. Once they have finally been fully perused, Admired, discussed, analyzed, abhorred Annotated, dissected, debated, explored They are still exactly the same: Indifferent to your pain. A poem is nothing but ink on a page. It is utterly devoid of life. It is no more dynamic than a forgotten age It cannot comprehend your strife. A poem and a man are unequally yoked. So do not throw away your heart. Our hearts belong to each other and to God alone. Let not the lifeless drive us apart. Poetry can be a pleasant distraction But it must never be anything more Than a mirror that we use to improve ourselves, Lest we forget what we are here for.
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Apr 9, 2012
Apr 9, 2012 at 10:59 PM UTC
Poetry
Are we Brought to this World to be loved Equally Or to be Loved Unequally Dear father, Aren't we all one Didn't we all come out from One Womb From one soul From one flesh From one Phenomenal Women Who went  through all the pain All the Aches All the broken bones All the suffering Dear father, Aren't we all one Didn't we all come out from one womb From one Flesh Aren't we all one.
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Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 2:05 PM UTC
Dear Father
I peered in every puddle on the way home, the storm had left them squirming in short and shallow lakes on the empty roads. I tried looking in mirrors and dark windows but you were't reflected in any of them. The water shuddered with every blast of wind; shadows bounced around and for a few moments, I thought I could see your shadow by my side. As if you could only survive in violence and motion. The wind died down and only the streetlights were reflected, spaced unequally along the road, like broken stars.
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Dec 27, 2011
Dec 27, 2011 at 2:50 PM UTC
Lakes
I apologize for my acting bad. I branded you as my greatest rival And perceived you as one most whimsical. Dear friend, I am sorry for evil thoughts That I conjured that to you may gave insults. I judged you hastily but never tried To understand what you possess inside. To everything you said, I pretended deaf. But I agree your words make my heart melt. I treated you with a bit of contempt And never thought of you as a good friend. But hasty judgment is all I can make Now, dear good friend, please forgive my mistakes! As our parting drew near, I have conceived By what's shown by your kind and thoughtful deeds That all these time, you were not my rival Indeed my review shows you're my ally! I regret how despite all you virtues I failed to be more amiable to you Now my conscience begins to bother me Why did i treat you so unequally? My friend now your humour i can comprehend I just realized what to me you meant. To Caleb whose humour I never had I wish a successful and happy life!
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Jun 5, 2012
Jun 5, 2012 at 12:38 AM UTC
To Caleb whose Humour I never had
There is a bumper sticker I have seen, it says to "Coexists" Be one big happy family, make wrath and hate desist - After all we all are One, members of the human clan Be all Lovey-Dovey, in the Family of Man - Excuse me please excuse me, in my Bible I do read A verse of Scripture plane and True, to this I will take heed - The verse is from Corinthians, the 2nd Paul did write I read in chapter six, how I'm to fight the Fight - Number 14 is the verse, the verse where I will start Read the chapter to the end...I take his words to heart - If you think I'll coexists, with a ******* ****** or a Queer You can think again!...Your Damnation draws so near 2 Cor 6:14-17 14 Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness? 15 And what concord hath Christ with Belial? or what part hath he that believeth with an infidel? 16 And what agreement hath the temple of God with idols? for ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in them; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. 17 Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you, KJV
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 3:54 AM UTC
2nd Corinthians 6:14~17
?never was beauty so in what eyes as in this pair of face just equally as contained with fair immortal pretty flowers somewhat are like it only they're jealous at the immaculate stem thorned pleasurable to pierce on which aloft sits the head perfectly of 2 unequally beautiful eyes always
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Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 5:25 AM UTC
Untitled
he who sheds the first tears cared the most she who feels no remorse may as well be a ghost two wrongs, two broken hearts I blame them both a lustful love affair unequally yoked.
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 2:01 PM UTC
haunted
…Love of mine (sigh, sigh) I must confess I simply haven’t the time, To take your willing heart so ready for mine… The truth is a story to tell!!! I DON’T WANT A LIFE OF HELL! Relationships…(sniff, sniff) Have a tendency to break and slip, As little bothersomes saw and chip, At emotions once dressed up as love And I have HAD ENOUGH! Twenty years…(oh dear) It’s all it takes to make a belly of beer, As my FIFTEEN children scream in my ears! I can practi-cally he-ear the sound! of YOUR Spawn running around. Unequally yoked…(cough, choke) Words describing how I married some bloke, Now we’re living in a trailer quite broke, My Gray hairs tied up in a bun! Ain’t the future fun?!
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Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 2:02 PM UTC
Trailer Park Mom: The Musical
Across the rugged terrain of an unequally yoked marriage I travel, with a flat tyre and no jack The rim is bent and buckled the CV joints warn out but onwards I push I will pursue till the end And when I get to the crest of this mountainous life With knees bleeding and finger nails split Cracked lips and pale eyes I'll look back at the piece of scrap I once called love And cry.
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Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 4:54 PM UTC
Marriage
Are you worth the trouble that I provoke? Unbalanced, uneven, unequally yoked. I feel the lull every night, even as you fall asleep. You nap there in silence. I lay in misery. Do I love her too much, is such a thing so? Should I gauge my burning passions for this girl I know? Limit my affections because the scales are tipped? Dial down the flame, cover it up, and smother it?
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Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 2:50 AM UTC
Untitled
How can one soul treat another unequally? —That which can't be perceived by the senses is free of judgement. Sound in to your silenceful Nature, Echoes of an uninfluenced instinct shall reverberate: That all of us are consciously different, That all are in a relationship with a predesigned ecosystem, That all are the functioning cells of one body, One organism—The Earth, And in that all of us are one! So, how does one treat oneself unequally?
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Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 12:00 PM UTC
How does one treat oneself unequally?
Unequally democratic, Laws made equally, punishments biased. Kills for the Black man, Patience for the white. "I can't breathe" He cried. Phones recorded, Yet He died. A black man's life, At a packet of cigarettes price. A white man kills, Yet still alive. Justice we seek. What they had promised to provide. Yet we take on these streets. Again, to fight. We take on these streets with your name in bold. History books will proclaim you as gold. In hopes that your name will be the last. We will fight 7 years for your 7 minutes. We will breathe. We will breathe.
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Jun 1, 2020
Jun 1, 2020 at 6:32 PM UTC
Let George breathe!
am I on the wrong frequency? because I still can't figure out why you won't speak to me, I forgave you so easily though our passions rose unequally, & honestly I need you to be on my side unconditionally, we'll make up eventually won't we?
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Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 1:38 PM UTC
#3
“**Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to which our wills are gardeners…”       – Iago, Act 1, Scene 3 in Shakespeare's "Othello**” *A commandment to wellness, spoke aloud, with resolute foursquare, of which no doubt, upon whom the responsibility lays, each of us poets individually I am not a gardner, know not the pleasure of rich dark soil loam, cupped in my hand, or the stroking of first blooms, the genteel of  spring, afternoon delights for the eyes, but for me, no elemental quivering no instinct bids me dig, plant, water and worry…* but my body’s garden another matter for pillaging insects, the bollwevil and other assorted devils planted internally and infernally breeding the ills of human failings, with tulip yellow couragelessness, they infiltrate & exploit the crevices where our fallacies buried but unearthed what is this longevity word? we've live as long as intended, forces internal, weathered by outside forces, gales amazing and pelting storms within and without combative born from earth’s produce, we tend our own garden unequally, inconsistently   though gardens demand, preferring constantly li loving attentions *but humans are notoriously of poor attention spans and we tend to tend in spurs of moments, some lasting decades and thus or thus, a poor epitaph to our fallow falling fallen humanity*
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Jun 16, 2024
Jun 16, 2024 at 8:17 AM UTC
the garden of longevity, we are thus or thus...
You’ve published your rhymes in print That’s the shortest way to put it On a shelf. Now the book proudly lives Through the eyes of those who read its lines I wonder why some saw some sun in my blue night After I did. Darkness and light where? always here Unequally balanced, always starting a fight The aesthetics of my mentors, my atmosphere From France to Bei- Jing to the Sea Ty by the Bay I write swell The ocean is organic Odyssey, ******** With the liquid it lifts And lies back down Both an eden and an abyss So is my soul, swerving In the current, red like, Redcurrant Poetry is debased That is, recurrent. August 30, 2017 Lyon
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Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 6:45 AM UTC
All is (s)well
Blue skies and fresh air. A vast forest with trees higher than sky scrapers. An ecosystem, where all natural systems runs smoothly. Where nothing disturb the natural systems unequally. Bonfires and music. History was built and written, yet no wars nor chaos existed. Human beings fought for survival, but no one sought for greed. All lives were lived, yet not a single society live with toxicity. An equilibrium exist between nature and humans. All things exist with their own purpose. All this things exist in Pandora, Yet can't exist in our planet Earth.
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May 31, 2021
May 31, 2021 at 11:42 AM UTC
Pandora