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"unjustifiably" poems
Yeah, we have a great relationship. But imagine how much better this would be if I actually loved you back? But oops, that's right. I forgot to tell you that I'm kind of incapable of loving another human being. But it's okay, it's not like love is real anyways. And even though a good percentage of the general population have the same opinion as me, I'm labeled by those around me as a cynical, lonely, pessimistic girl, simply because others can't seem to comprehend that everything I say is derived from my own personal perspective and observations that I've made. What was it that the naively optimistic, overly positive young man from the book store called me? Oh yes, an "unjustifiably, unnecessarily negative teen who is disappointed with her life because she has yet to 'experience love.'" Despite his ignorance and obscenely immature mindset, which evidently accounted for his matching personality, I don't think he realized that my lack of belief in the existence of "true love" was the exactly the reason that I was in the book store. Because, as I came to realize, it appears that the only form of "love" that I seem to recognize as being adequate enough to somewhat believe in are those spoken of and created in novels. It's formulated by the birth of a ridiculously intense, love fueled storyline, supported by a mindful choice of cohesive, dramatic, and emotional words. Hence, fictional love is born, except to most it doesn't seem fictional because it's so breathtaking to read about. They believe in it, they worship it. As if it actually exists in an alternate universe. The unrealistic perfection of it gives them a disgusting, false hope which just drives them to cling to it more. It's a drug to them, they can't live without the hope that such a "love" exists somewhere in the world; they need it. And the sad part is, they're completely oblivious to the fact that they have just become addicts, that they just sold their soul and relinquished part of their freedom to a fictitious concept. It's so fake, it's almost real.
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Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 4:10 AM UTC
True Love Isn't Real (Don't read books about love stories)
Yeah, we have a great relationship. But imagine how much better this would be if I actually loved you back? But oops, that's right. I forgot to tell you that I'm kind of incapable of loving another human being. But it's okay, it's not like love is real anyways. And even though a good percentage of the general population have the same opinion as me, I'm labeled by those around me as a cynical, lonely, pessimistic girl, simply because others can't seem to comprehend that everything I say is derived from my own personal perspective and observations that I've made. What was it that the naively optimistic, overly positive young man from the book store called me? Oh yes, an "unjustifiably, unnecessarily negative teen who is disappointed with her life because she has yet to 'experience love.'" Despite his ignorance and obscenely immature mindset, which evidently accounted for his matching personality, I don't think he realized that my lack of belief in the existence of "true love" was the exactly the reason that I was in the book store. Because, as I came to realize, it appears that the only form of "love" that I seem to recognize as being adequate enough to somewhat believe in are those spoken of and created in novels. It's formulated by the birth of a ridiculously intense, love fueled storyline, supported by a mindful choice of cohesive, dramatic, and emotional words. Hence, fictional love is born, except to most it doesn't seem fictional because it's so breathtaking to read about. They believe in it, they worship it. As if it actually exists in an alternate universe. The unrealistic perfection of it gives them a disgusting, false hope which just drives them to cling to it more. It's a drug to them, they can't live without the hope that such a "love" exists somewhere in the world; they need it. And the sad part is, they're completely oblivious to the fact that they have just become addicts, that they just sold their soul and relinquished part of their freedom to a fictitious concept. It's so fake, it's almost real.
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16
Angels make horrible pets and enemies and devils should be fluffy unjustifiably weak enough to mend organs and sink into the mind enough to swallow ignorant earth wipe off bodies set down times True-believers, and under-achievers complacent ***** everyone is different made of hydrogen and certainty sinking through the orb of space contracting and expanding independant of the nature of the universe I shall not be the mosquito the construction site down in your valley settled with liquid fluidity couldn't survive paradise straightened on the sands whisper love songs as quiet as fury slow like my touch tactile truth realistic moisture and this isn't how a home is wrecked,
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Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 7:36 AM UTC
Capulet
He saw her drop a wallet and nobody saw it He returned it without her seeing it and she was glad there was no thank you, no need to feel indebted to, no need to reciprocate, no belittling of the effort to not feel grateful, no aggrandizement of the effort to reward overly to the point of removing, no self-praise----all just a quiet act of kindness but then someone did see him and blamed him for taking it in the first place and not only was the act not appreciated but it was scorned, misinterpreted, misunderstood, confused, defamed and finally damned. When kindness is ****** could there be any greater crime? The act was kindness and nobody understood it, and everyone jumped to conclusions, and everyone found one reason to **** for another reason, and nobody took the extra time, caring, compassion, and thoroughness and patience and love it would have taken to find out the truth---so the the greatest crime prevailed---far greater than the act that was understood to be the "justifiable damnation", but isn't it always the breeding grounds for justifiable damnation when conclusions about the biggest things in life are so quickly assumed to be true when they aren't. Reverse the crime with patience, love, understanding, caring being thorough, being careful, and remember the act of returning the wallet held such integrity that your shine will show the light to everyone else sooner or later but your light will forever shine regardless so don't unjustifiably **** yourself either---love yourself---and thank you for returning the wallet
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Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 7:34 PM UTC
Wallet Returned
He saw her drop a wallet and nobody saw it He returned it without her seeing it and she was glad there was no thank you, no need to feel indebted to, no need to reciprocate, no belittling of the effort to not feel grateful, no aggrandizement of the effort to reward overly to the point of removing, no self-praise----all just a quiet act of kindness but then someone did see him and blamed him for taking it in the first place and not only was the act not appreciated but it was scorned, misinterpreted, misunderstood, confused, defamed and finally damned. When kindness is ****** could there be any greater crime? The act was kindness and nobody understood it, and everyone jumped to conclusions, and everyone found one reason to **** for another reason, and nobody took the extra time, caring, compassion, and thoroughness and patience and love it would have taken to find out the truth---so the the greatest crime prevailed---far greater than the act that was understood to be the "justifiable damnation", but isn't it always the breeding grounds for justifiable damnation when conclusions about the biggest things in life are so quickly assumed to be true when they aren't. Reverse the crime with patience, love, understanding, caring being thorough, being careful, and remember the act of returning the wallet held such integrity that your shine will show the light to everyone else sooner or later but your light will forever shine regardless so don't unjustifiably **** yourself either---love yourself---and thank you for returning the wallet
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4
**** you society For making people believe That there is a certain way to live and breath Everyone is the same, there is no variety You outcast those for rioting And living their life defiantly What gives you the right to judge me You are not god almighty You are the reason for my anxiety And loss of sobriety And visits to the psychiatry But I stand in protest finally I will no longer sit quietly And let you decide unjustifiably What I should be Your judgment makes people feel insecure Why do you believe that everyone has to be similar Why don't you understand that no one is perfect Why do I have to conform to your culture to earn respect Why is money the only way to achieve success Every person lives just like the next This makes me feel so depressed **** you, I chose to be unique I refuse to live a life that's boring and bleak My life does not need to be critiqued Your approval will not bring relief Happiness is key I will live happy and free
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 12:27 AM UTC
The Trapped Poet
Do you argue your point To argue for love Or do you argue Just because Do you really care For every American out there What are you truly fighting for Helping the millions poor? Or are you morphing with society Doing things unjustifiably Our hypocritical democracy A nation full of dishonesty Soldiers dying left and right Parents send their kids to school with fright But all we care about are insignificant things I’m told, “the ends justify the means” A country full of hate Keeping people out because of race American is so blessed But most are too obsessed Many can’t even imagine How a nation like us can have no compassion We do not know others lives For we walk vigilantly in our opportunistic thrive So forgetful of where we’ve come For a God whos love cannot be undone To give back what he gave us Something we always fail to discuss We blindly became a nation Who has no purpose for its creation Future president, can you do it? Will you help us get through it? Maybe you can change it someday Please. Change us back to who we were yesterday.
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Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 1:45 PM UTC
Future President
The cracking and clatter of ice from the shingles Is my overture— The woken cardinals, My chorus— Both hailing proud to me, their Caesar And his triumph of Spring. Snow sublimes and bleeds on the pavement Like YHWH’s flood— The earth will clean itself, having given birth, It licks away the treated salts That offend my foot and step— Quelling there, the wrath on Gomorrah Giving wife back unto Lot, Or so it can be said. Unjustifiably, I feel like a badass With newfound swagger and perspiration Down my back— I shed my second skin in the virile breeze. So, up the noise and whet your words It’s time the poet took herself back And without fear makes due on nothing but life To die early and die right— We’ll stand naked on a precipice And scream out the world’s song While we imagine ourselves there.
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Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 11:07 AM UTC
Spring's Triumphant
Accused of treason the tree's in the livin room with my gifted lines under in between em you'll find me slanderin Standing panting, like him and you "No way honey, I ******* can't believe you! You take my money, trance leave me in a! I mean, wait, I can't think, I'm in disbelief, uh I thought you were unique, pretty soon you'll be deceased, **** Leave you underneath, all of this deceit You've always been naive! Completely defeated me! I'm relieved I finally get to **** you! Call the police, quietly so I don't hear Your actions are unjustifiably ****** up, we're slightly, wait vitally, stated before, 'were'. But what for? **** What has occurred, I'd rather not talk about, instead I'll drown out My pragmatic ways, and your magmatic blaze I'm becoming asthmatic, running away from crack-addicts like you Drew this out you did, breaking through I will Shrewd ***** you are, construe this twisted handbill Candles in my house are all out of wick I'm out of wack like a mole off his mantle, the stress is thick Fires in their places but out like a bic I'll put you in yours, it'll be ******* sick! Cough Cough Sheep are ticked because they're all outta salt lick Lick these two hockey sticks, use "H" "E" in a conjuring trick, Summon Satan 'fore someone slicks through the back door quick! Straighten up! You've gotta fit through the chimney like Ol' Saint Nick! ****** ***** I should probably stop with the insults and ******* **** you With a brick
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Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 9:52 PM UTC
Untitled
upping the umami, the fifth taste “Umami is the last-to-be discovered fifth basic taste, along with sweet, sour, bitter, and salty, and triggers a distinct class of taste receptors on the tongue. ... The most notorious (and often unjustifiably maligned) source of umami is monosodium glutamate (MSG), the sodium salt of a naturally-occurring amino acid.” a chicken soup recipe^ says it’s time, time to up the umami, me-the-no-cook is sidelined and intrigued, then taken to another place sweet, sour, bitter and salty are the tastes of you life, but it’s time to up the game release the amino acids of my fingers into her body, the tasting menu scrapped, go direct to the boardwalk hotel, railroad her unto my jail, teach and share the notorious fifth perception of loves taste, the elixir of our combinatory sensationalism ————- The Best Chicken Soup with Rice, Carrots, and Kale Saveur Tomato paste and fish sauce add depth and umami to our best-ever chicken-and-rice soup studded with sweet carrots and silky kale.
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May 26, 2019
May 26, 2019 at 1:37 PM UTC
upping the umami, the fifth taste
Forty eight, the number of so called “friends” that I have lost on Facebook since voicing my opinions. One of them was my uncle, who thought it better to simply unfriend me instead of following my polite request to stop sharing certain opinions with me. Red, the color of the innocent blood that Officer WIlson drew. Three, number of days since the Grand Jury decided that Officer Wilson was justified in his slaying of a college bound, unarmed black teenager. Youth, the group of people who have become fed up with all the lies told to us, all the injustice perpetrated against us, all those telling us we’re not good enough, we’re not complacent enough, we’re not thankful for what we have. Eighteen, the age Michael Brown was when he was unjustifiably slain while unarmed. A college bound teen, Mike was taken from this world far before his time. “”He should have been in college. He should have been spending all night in the library studying for exams. He should have been going out with friends and making the most of his time. He should have been getting ready to come home to his family for thanksgiving. Instead, he’s 6 feet underground, because that is where Officer Wilson decided he should be.” I don’t have a gun, stop shooting - Michael Brown’s last words Gofundme, website that brewed hate and racism, and assisted Officer Wilson in raising nearly half a million dollars Hatred, the thing that has allowed Ferguson to happen the way it has. To the ‘change’ that we have seen in the past 50 years since the Civil Rights Movement. To the ‘change’ that has allowed systems of institutional racism to remove innocent black lives from the streets. To the ‘change’ that has allowed Officer Wilson to have zero punishment for taking an innocent life. To the change that we may one day see that will allow Blacks to live freely and happily, and to allow them to have zero fear in situations where they are innocent. To the change we may one day see that will erase the racism that still haunts this country. To the oncoming revolution, may it be strong, may it last, may it save -m.j.
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Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 4:51 PM UTC
48
Forty eight, the number of so called “friends” that I have lost on Facebook since voicing my opinions. One of them was my uncle, who thought it better to simply unfriend me instead of following my polite request to stop sharing certain opinions with me. Red, the color of the innocent blood that Officer WIlson drew. Three, number of days since the Grand Jury decided that Officer Wilson was justified in his slaying of a college bound, unarmed black teenager. Youth, the group of people who have become fed up with all the lies told to us, all the injustice perpetrated against us, all those telling us we’re not good enough, we’re not complacent enough, we’re not thankful for what we have. Eighteen, the age Michael Brown was when he was unjustifiably slain while unarmed. A college bound teen, Mike was taken from this world far before his time. “”He should have been in college. He should have been spending all night in the library studying for exams. He should have been going out with friends and making the most of his time. He should have been getting ready to come home to his family for thanksgiving. Instead, he’s 6 feet underground, because that is where Officer Wilson decided he should be.” I don’t have a gun, stop shooting - Michael Brown’s last words Gofundme, website that brewed hate and racism, and assisted Officer Wilson in raising nearly half a million dollars Hatred, the thing that has allowed Ferguson to happen the way it has. To the ‘change’ that we have seen in the past 50 years since the Civil Rights Movement. To the ‘change’ that has allowed systems of institutional racism to remove innocent black lives from the streets. To the ‘change’ that has allowed Officer Wilson to have zero punishment for taking an innocent life. To the change that we may one day see that will allow Blacks to live freely and happily, and to allow them to have zero fear in situations where they are innocent. To the change we may one day see that will erase the racism that still haunts this country. To the oncoming revolution, may it be strong, may it last, may it save -m.j.
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11
imagine the day you find someone and, enthralled with them, you cater to their every wish. slowly, they demand you change the core of your very own heart and soul. and after you have transformed so radically, that your reflection is unjustifiably unrecognizable, they get up and they just ******* leave, and you are left in a foreign expanse of a space that you once knew like the back of your hand. ~imagine that day, and promise yourself it will never come~
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Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 1:24 PM UTC
promises to preserve your sense of self
Today was not a good day. Nothing particularly awful happened, Nobody was particularly upset, But today was not a good day. I wasn’t too hungry, or too tired, or too hot. But today was just not a good day. I ate meals, I smoked cigarettes, I drank coffee, and I do not understand why today was not a good day. The people around me were happy, and supportive, and very kind, My atmosphere was overall congenial, Yet today was still not a good day. My forsaken heart yearns greatly for the answers to these questions I have in plentiful quantities. My castaway soul yearns for all the solutions. My distraught mind longs for the certainty to fix my conundrums, so tomorrow can be a good ******* day and not blend into this blur of unjustifiably somber days, I feel as though I have been living for so long.
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Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 3:40 AM UTC
Days
Every hug, every touch, every moment noticed and oftentimes the only one who did every running to the rescue, every tear wiped away, every feeling catered to, and every whim satisfied every question answered, every bully dealt with every intrusion defended, every pain averted every day of meaning glorified, every attention given every song sung, and every need met every resource provided for, and every extra detail taken care of that I would ever have to help you recall is beyond belief every moment of a million discarded for what was done flushed away for what was some, for what was one? every moment of a million forgotten for what was really none. Every moment of a million remembered and love given back when it was needed most? Where is that? Anyone could be there when all is good and coming their way but what are we when we're not there for the person who was pummeled unjustifiably while fighting not only theirs but yours? Is it the old saying when you laugh the world laughs with you and when you cry you cry alone what should prevail? Or is it the saying that when a person cries that is when they need you most and that is what determines who you really are? Anyone could give because they know they're getting but isn't it the person who can give for the true act of giving that is truly REAL One for a million, a million for one, either way when love is given without measure for itself that is what love is. Not to say that we let people purposely hurt us while we love but to love someone even though others took a punch at them that is pure love. To go with the bandwagon of adversity would be weak. What is the greatest feeling in the world but to be shown as the greatest truth when you took the blows of all those who didn't believe and you still fought through it. Martin Luther King was imprisoned 22 times while he had every right violated and he was as right as right can be. Isn't this why he is considered great? Isn't it the battles against naysayers that show greatness? I AM A CHAMPION and whether it's realized now or after I'm dead I know I'm a CHAMPION. Yes, one for a million, or a million against one. Right is right, truth is truth, love is love, real is real and whether there's a parade today or tomorrow there's a parade in my heart every day.
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Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
One for a million
Every hug, every touch, every moment noticed and oftentimes the only one who did every running to the rescue, every tear wiped away, every feeling catered to, and every whim satisfied every question answered, every bully dealt with every intrusion defended, every pain averted every day of meaning glorified, every attention given every song sung, and every need met every resource provided for, and every extra detail taken care of that I would ever have to help you recall is beyond belief every moment of a million discarded for what was done flushed away for what was some, for what was one? every moment of a million forgotten for what was really none. Every moment of a million remembered and love given back when it was needed most? Where is that? Anyone could be there when all is good and coming their way but what are we when we're not there for the person who was pummeled unjustifiably while fighting not only theirs but yours? Is it the old saying when you laugh the world laughs with you and when you cry you cry alone what should prevail? Or is it the saying that when a person cries that is when they need you most and that is what determines who you really are? Anyone could give because they know they're getting but isn't it the person who can give for the true act of giving that is truly REAL One for a million, a million for one, either way when love is given without measure for itself that is what love is. Not to say that we let people purposely hurt us while we love but to love someone even though others took a punch at them that is pure love. To go with the bandwagon of adversity would be weak. What is the greatest feeling in the world but to be shown as the greatest truth when you took the blows of all those who didn't believe and you still fought through it. Martin Luther King was imprisoned 22 times while he had every right violated and he was as right as right can be. Isn't this why he is considered great? Isn't it the battles against naysayers that show greatness? I AM A CHAMPION and whether it's realized now or after I'm dead I know I'm a CHAMPION. Yes, one for a million, or a million against one. Right is right, truth is truth, love is love, real is real and whether there's a parade today or tomorrow there's a parade in my heart every day.
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17
don't even know why I wanted to shape this as a poem perhaps because Poetry is the only Love that ever loved me back it's all I've ever known despair lays heavily on a heart that beat for so many others now it just beats for one and even then I wish I could just stop it, shock it into dying it beats for no reason, each season it tick tocks upon the rocks of where it has been bashed by another's unsupported anger unjustifiably angry with no reason but I don't ******* care anymore! Used, abused and given little hope that I made a difference in breathing just a little same oxygen that you do it's irrelevant that the eyes are unseeing the heart is still beating just don't ******* care! Do you?
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Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 3:05 AM UTC
just don't f**king care!
Your weapon cuts like a knife, deep and sure, a piercing through the heart I am your victim, a casualty of words they go flying, straight to my head Mean and unjustifiably wrong Now I wish myself dead Can I cry into my pillow, the emotions I have are great? I just want to blow, and be rid of the heaviness in my chest. Days are filled with hatred, each one wondering why. The more I hear I want to **** **** the person wanting to wreck my life. This is the end of you, the more I see your face I want to destroy; break **** and tear **** apart, but I would rather take these hands of mine around your neck, and choke the very breath out from your eyes. You are the one setting the course, creating a death sentence of your life.
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Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 11:25 AM UTC
Bully
is your dryer driving you mad, dried up electric or gas? are the walls melting all around you, gooey with paper and damp in the mist? has your garden been taken over by spiderwebs, each one with a hopeful hungry orange little being in the center, a thick closure of soft sticky strands filling up those well planned paths? have the flowers all fallen away, admitted defeat in august, to be covered up by eternal mums or merely weeds? Does the dust creep back into each corner unjustifiably fast, so that all you can do is to watch with disgust? Do the dishes grow heavier and more plentiful with each passing meal? Well, have I got a solution for you... So cheap it's nearly free. Just burn down your house, wrap yourself up in rags, and make your way to the temple. Because I hear at the temple they need someone to help clean.
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Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 5:14 AM UTC
Help Clean
Vampires ******* blood, Drawing life out the maidens’ necks, At medieval festivals Sounds even more realistic now After the pandemic The things we watched on movies Are becoming less doubtable Less fictional. People have changed so much Unjustifiably My only hope is Is in the end We remain Human.
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Oct 8, 2020
Oct 8, 2020 at 2:17 PM UTC
Whats next?
Take some pills It's not real You're okay That's what they say but it's not that easy You have bipolar It's just a disorder You can get healthy That's what they tell me Is it really only chemically because it ***** fondled & touched me without sympathy that's what I feel that's what I see so when you say it's just me It's just not that easy If it's all in my head why did it steal my bed & my life away from me unjustifiably I have a right all I could do was fight when nobody was listening So don't tell me It's just me It's not that easy you can't appease me I wouldn't hurt me like this I wouldn't choose this mess So as you can see I'm through believing you know it's not me Alhough It's inside I'll never be that easy
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Jan 27, 2022
Jan 27, 2022 at 1:51 AM UTC
Easy