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Sachin Subedi May 2018
A man is like a flower
Starts with a bud
Blossoms into its nature
Natural ecstasy and perfection
In time it wears out too
Finally falls off the tree
A natural process
A natural phenomenon
Naturally the man
See as a flower
All the nature of being
To the base is the same

The intelligence the man puts into saying
That he is only the creature of importance
And everything in the world are the resource
Resource to be consumed by himself
Is the false flag he is raising
And is in the denial of the very nature

Anything which is resonant
And synchronous to the nature
Has the time in nature to the eternity
Whereas if not
In accordance to the nature
Sooner or later
On the verse of decay
On the verse of extinction

I see the human race is in the path of extinction
As civilization denying nature rather than glorifying
Human beings are far from the true essence
And are not synchronizing in the heart
Of the very nature
The so called intelligence
is what humans praise and glorifying
A lot full of ****
And it is a shame

We see the population of human species
To rise and rise
So may presume the statement
I just stated to be false
But seeing the thought processes
And so called intelligence
Is setting the human species
To a sense of decay
The step to the human race to demolish its own race
Is a unjustified intelligence in itself

The truth and laws of nature
Being in shade
Humans incorporating thoughts
As a tool of destruction
Rather than construction
In the field of criticism rather than motivation
In the field of extinction rather than sustainability
In the field of destruction rather than collaboration
And effort in maintaining the continuity
Of equilibrium and resonance with the nature

On the contrary
Making critics and complain about the others
Not realizing all are the part of the whole
Is creating a challenge to the nature
Going off beat with the nature.

We shall know
Anything not synchronous
And not resonant to the nature
Nature wipes out sooner or later
We cannot accept the very fact it is true

Even seeing our own life
As a child
The bud to the flower
The youth
The perfection in being and entire existence
The new ideas and new world
The fruit of generation brings about
The generation to come
To fertilize the seeds of the existence
The old age
To be renewed thoughts
Nature wipes out as per the plan
of its own
Accept it as a reality
As it is the truth

The sharpness of flower
Remembered as the youthfulness of flower
The bud is treated emotionally
With care as it is to be the perfection
In the time to come
The flower to be wiped out is respected
As it was once a perfection
Once roared the magnificence of itself
Upon this very world
The being-wiped flower doesn’t ask
For its claim in the now world
And indulge the new with its now state
But appreciate the perfection once it had  
Make believe the youthful flower to blossom
And accept its own existence in the present.

Every species and beings
Are in the nature of being
We are no different from the other species
We are no superior and at the same time no inferior
To the other species
And not the other species to us humans

Everybody and everything
Is the part of the whole
The whole is the nature itself.
1981

They came in like diseased eagles; mutated
forms of those they wore on their chest and
with the change once again in the weather,
the ZOMO swooped in to quell what was
‘wrong’, what would bring them down. They
run in the streets as well as the miners,
running for different reasons and different
aims. I look down, out my window and see
the army helmets littering the street like rats.
            Police.          Rats.
I could no longer see a difference. My father
went to work that morning. I clutch my doll
knowing the chance of seeing him again is
            Miniscule.   Poor.
There is no more cereal in the cupboard;
there is no more cereal in the shop; there is
no more shop. The ZOMO set it on fire when the word

                          Solidarity

appeared in the window.
“We are closing the border for the safety of the People”
            Incorrect.     Unjustified.
For the safety of You, the Elite.
“Nine killed in mine shooting”
Which side?
Only the ZOMO carry guns.
            Fascism.       Communism.
I could no longer see a difference
Yenson Aug 2018
But why do they do all this, I asked, shaking my head pitifully.
Its unimaginable  the amount of time and efforts they expend,
over nothing. Not to mention having the inclinations for such
absurdities!.

She leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially as she puts
down her glass, while she waved at me to lean in closer too.

Her cute lips barely moved as she whispered theatrically,
" this is a secret, don't quote me."
I nodded.

" POST TRUTH" she uttered, " It's all post truth, they have put
all their people in a post truth world and they all live in post truth now"

"Do you know what Post truth means?" she asked, her eyes glaring inquiringly in a straight gaze at mine.

"Yes I do I replied, basically its, ‘relating to or denoting circumstances in which objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief’", I trotted out. Leaning back in my seat, I considered this, and what she had just shared.

My plight has been Orwellian, from the very start, but I honestly wouldn't have believed people would be so gullible in this day and age. But then who was it that said " No man ever went broke overestimating the ignorance of the public".

Internally I processed things again, Welfare spounging Crooks burgled me, I gave them a piece of my mind, crooks call on their Socialist mates, who then launched an unjustified campaign of
slander, vilification, harassment, hounding, intimidation, ruining
my marriage, career, reputation and my health. I, the victim of a fowl crime becomes the villain and the criminals gentrified working class heroes.

It all seem implausible in Modern Britain, this day and age, yet it's all true.

My silence prompted her, " I don't like it myself and you already know how I feel about them, but..... and she shrugged her slim
shoulders and the look of sadness and resignation in her eyes says
it all. I felt sorry for her, only God knows the leverage, inducement,
threats or dirt at play for her cooperation, given the nature of the ***** politicking that's been playing all these while
and the  results of former experiences. Poor thing, I mused,
knowing her private life was at stake now..

In Post truth terms, you are a rich arrogant privileged and greedy chauvinistic parasite who deserve all you're getting and more. 
Their propaganda machine is devious and slick. 

I couldn't help acknowledging the disingenuous politicking at
play here by our Red comrades, the nasty racial undertones of my
plight had been white-washed, the theft of my hard earned possessions is bye the bye, the bullying and intimidation by the
neighbouring criminals and their subsequent gangstalking covered up. now, what remains is hapless me, alone, unsupported and just the heinous distortions, the misinformation, exaggerations, slander and disinformation exists, and all these are falling into receptive ears by the bucketloads. The general public's moral compass has been twisted and befuddled if not totally obliterated.  

I sat in silence and for a short while, we both avoided eye contact,
finally we looked at each other. She knew I had got the picture and
for a second I saw sorrow in her eyes. Then it was gone, you could
almost glimpse this was a sentiment she wasn't allowed.

I had seen that look before from quite a number of others, nobody dares act against the wave, nobody wants to be considered a traitor
or a sympathiser.

I tried lifting the mood and changed the topic, we made chit-chat
and found laughter in some places, we finished our drinks and left.

On the street walking I once again felt sorry for her and made a
conscious decision not to see her again. I was a persona non gratia
now, and it's not healthy being my friend. Friends are compromised, debriefed and used as baits or informers. I have become a dangerous person to know and the truth has been murdered, cut into little pieces and then incinerated into ashes.

They had perhaps forgotten that TRUTH lives forever, the truth
is the TRUTH and remains the TRUTH, no matter what you do to it.

FOR NOW HOWEVER WE HAVE POST TRUTH, HOW LONG THAT WILL LIVE FOR?
Your guess is as good as mine!

Goodbye dear friend, I watched her walk away, there was an unusual slowness in her steps and she looked back at me just as I was turning away, I did not turn to look back at her again,

I knew I will not be seeing her again................
Post-truth politics (also called post-factual politics and post-reality politics) is a political culture in which debate is framed largely by appeals to emotion disconnected from the details of policy, and by the repeated assertion of talking points to which factual rebuttals are ignored.
‎History · ‎Summary of the truth is contained in the poem - WHERE IS JUSTICE on this site..·
Judy Klein Oct 2013
The raged little blue eyed girl had so many years
from her past she has cried many tears
sitting on a bench with her dog Spot at her side
hair not comb wearing cuffed up hole's in my farmer jeans
Mother yelling, hold still for the picture or you know what I mean.
I sat very still with Spot at my side
knowing she was not happy nor satisfied
Please Mamma, why can't I have a pretty dress?
and look like a little girl like all the rest
I jumped off the bench with Spot at my side
The picture wasn't taken and again unjustified
I was punished and locked in the shed
Spot was laying out side the door
we were both looking through the crack in the floor
I could see him he could see me,
Felt like I was lock there for eternity,
If Spot was only human he could set me free
I'm locked up like a animal and he could be me
Laying cold on the old wooden floor,
Spot don't leave me, don't leave me no more
When I get older I'm going to run away some day
Take spot and find a home far away
may need to change some wording
Night has crept up
Like a blight on the perfect day.
I've become untied by the night's darkness.
I'm alone.
You my delight, have returned home.
You, now are hers, her knight, I am forgotten,
like a dream once awoken slipping into limbo.
Why do I allow this?
Why do I debase myself?
Why do you get the night and day?
While I get an unjustified plight?
When tomorrow comes I will smile and say,
"Goodbye and goodnight parasite"
© JLB
07/07/2014
Sentimental person, stars in your eyes and longing in your heart.
Looking everywhere but within, broken. Sentimental person, lost and stolen.

Leaning on a falling shoulder, drowning in another man's tears. Everybody running,  running from you.

Always knew you were pretty, but never truly understood your beauty; your worth tossed aside like an old rug or blanket.

Never stepping back, never taking a breath, your worn out body on overdrive. Spending your days in a psychological prison, a suicidal mind; a deadly master.

Walking with armored shadows by your sides, defending you from adulation and affection. Much like a wealthy man in an infamous alley, the territory of an infamous criminal.

A daily shedding of tears. The hot waxy tears of a candle rolling down your charred cheek. You continue to burn alone, ever surrounded by darkness.

Always reaching out for others, until your arm is ripped off, now you're limbless; disabled, stuck in the mud.

A waste of space, according to your unjustified terms, a lonely species that serves no purpose.

Fearing yourself, hiding yourself and disregarding yourself. Labeling yourself as a burden to others.

Ghostly smiles and ill-suited facades, eyebrows dragging themselves towards the earth's centre.

A body-builder's weight on your soft-jointed feet, the mass of your lonely misery strapped to your fickle ridge.

Being used; you in exchange for your acceptance. Clinging to past love because your present has none.

Enduring the pain of stationary motion,    going nowhere fast, constantly crashing into tragedies, repeatedly ramming into heartbreak.

Walking with cracked and bleeding soles, like an American Slave, whip marks on your back, a result of self-induced punishment.

Every wake is unwanted, everyday painful. Living for you, is like sea salt on a new born wound, only it never seems to heal.

Your body taken over by plaguing parasites, under your own toxic control. Forced to walk to the beat of a tormentor's drum, your tormentor, you.

Your tongue removed, unable to express yourself. Even in the tongue's presence, pain forces you to keep your mouth shut.

Nearing the Precipice, afraid of jumping, but desperate to be hauled off. Anxious to fall into the river down below, the River of The Dead, where, in your hopes, life is happier.

Your wrists and chest like sliced beef, every tear drop accompanied by the unwilling swipe of your razor blade. The redness of your being splashed onto the floor, then wiped away before anyone notices.

Hiding in a thorn bush from your predetermined destiny, each day comes and thorns dig deeper into your blue skin. Thick needles that you've become physically immune to, thick needles that still emotionally hurt.

Sharks further below circle around your tasteless body, patiently waiting to change you, rearrange your features, devour you for their own satisfaction.

Plebeian people disguised as friends, they show passing interest in your melancholy,  your sadness is what they will soon forget.

Wandering and stumbling in a plain white plane. No colour, no sound, no mercy, no gain. Trapped in Dysphoria. Trapped in a worm hole, eternally alone.

Forever falling into a bottomless pit, a hole reserved for the undeserving. But unlike other times, the rope let go of you. The rope that you clung tightly to, the rope that gave up on you.

One tone played on your broken piano, dysfunctional instrument. Your second chance stolen from you, your body deemed as junkyard worthy and thrown into the jaws of a junkyard dog.

Your mirror image distorted, visions clouded, unrecognizable is your face and your pupils, a vacant shell where your soul once hid.

Relying on heavy drugs after heavy drinking becomes ineffective. Heavy feet, a heavy heart, heavy burdens, heavy sadness.

Given a useless name by those who never knew you, forced to go by it, forced to go by them.

Your sweet pink lips hiding, behind them, bitter secrets. Secrets that you've become too ashamed to discuss even with yourself in the darkest night.

Cut short by the knees, not given a chance to run like the others. You've no choice but to let the storm cloud rest on your soft-haired skull. And when the cloud releases its rain, the drops are sharp like daggers. They shock and stab and hurt like the truth.

Your teeth white and pure, are the prison bars that trap you inside you, your smile is now your limited daylight break, a breath of barely fresh air before returning to your forcible detention.

Sentimental person, wallowing in your pitiful emotion, an undesired sensation that seems to follow you physically.

Emotional person, more valuable than you think; more exceptional than you Know.
Scribbles99 Oct 2016
Before killing him,
your last moments flashed.

Those despairing eyes,
that begging grasp you died with,
and it hit me.
At that moment,
I finally understood.

It never brooded
you don't want me
to avenge your unjustified death.
I didn't know
you'll realize before anyone
I'll slowly embrace a hideous monster
and torture those who tortured you.

Eventually,
I pulled the trigger and fired.
I can't go back.
I've came a very long way
and can't go back now.

I avenged your death
and avenged my pain
                           and lost myself forever.
Kalvin Moon Apr 2017
When I look into the moon I see the only dependent part of me that still exists. Its as if the silence in her vocal cords spoke words of solitude. I gave her the only bio mechanical part of me that mattered.

The gears in my chest keep turning like clock work.
I count seconds into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into days. I keep thinking time is standing still while im still standing still.

I'm waiting, waiting on patience and as unjustified as it sounds I'm impatient. Dreams are just your natural thoughts heavily sedated, a sub-conscious reality based off the feelings we cant display them.

I don't consider myself a writer, I see the constant flow of words and as a kid it left me inspired. I'm more of the sub concious reality type. I drink coffee and outside of that I really don't have a life.

For me writing is self exspression without being judged by others.
I opinionate my feelings and organize them in ink. The papper is my empty canvas, my thoughts are my judgment, and the pen is the deliverer.

Sometimes writing is the only thing that can stitch my wounds, like the words curved inside my brain penetrating like the needlesof a tattoo. I wonder what will become me, in what paradox will I redeem the sum of me?

I just hope this bio mechanical heart ticks away. I hope people continue to be people with different mindsets and open steeples. I want love to be found and dreams to be created.

Kalvin Moon
Me spilling out my brain in thirty minuets.
Brittany Danzig Jul 2011
Do you know the one you trust,
To love your life despite your lust?
You talk about him every Sunday,
But who are you the following Monday?

You can show me you're his biggest fan,
But I'm not a part of the "God-Loving Clan."
I'm the one who prays on my own,
Who wants to see his seeds be sown.
Ryan Jakes Jun 2014
I came across a fool today
hiding behind a profile
used for spite and hate
a pitiful soul
wrapped warmly
in unjustified ego
Words meant to hurt
did so, I fear
for his momentary satisfaction
a cunning smile twisted on his filth filled mouth
while the sun now threatens to leave my sky
it's light forever diminished.
For Calpurnia....Creatures that leave hateful comments on people's poems drive me to distraction, especially when that person is a friend I hold dear. Thanks to Harper Lee for the title, thanks to Loghain Carvo for being a soulless ****.
Devon Webb Dec 2014
I don't really
need you
but I
want you
regardless
Ethiiochick Nov 2015
Your softly spoken words leaves essences lingering in the mist, only to purify this unjustified burden of the ever lasting beloved love...

-Ethiiochick
All that I can say, you have uttered them to another...
I’m going to come right out and say that at 9:52 PM on November 25, 2014, you are on my brain. Maybe because I’m in bed and my mind wanders before I fall asleep, maybe because you haven’t called me back in two hours and maybe because I have weird feelings about you. Who knows? Not me, obviously.

What’s on my brain, really, is next Monday. Because I don’t think I’ll have the nerve to ask if you want to hang out sometime this week (it’s Thanksgiving) and the only time I know I’ll see you is Monday. It’s that crazy, insane feeling that you get where your heart screams a little because it seems like forever. But it’s also a good, secure feeling because it’s concrete. You’ll be there, I’ll be there. I love things that are predictable and easy to anticipate. Things that leave clues and drop hints and leave answers lying around for me to find.

But what’s driving me crazy is that you give no clues. I thought I was a really good at reading people, and I feel terrible for thinking that since it’s completely unjustified. My unjustified assumptions are my fatal flaw, really. It’s why I fall so hard, I think. I assume that the other person will stick around and love me the way I want to love them. Because most of the time, all I really want is to love hard and love well for a long time. You, though, I have no read on you at all. I can’t tell if you want to stick around or if you want me to stick around or if you really just want me to go away and leave you alone. I wish you’d tell me. But then again, I wish you wouldn't because as much as I act like I don’t care, I do. I care a lot. Another fatal flaw.

I’m listening to this really great song called “From Afar” by Vance Joy and it’s touching my heart. It made me want to write whatever this is. The main line is “I always knew I would love you from afar.” That’s sort of how I feel right now. I love awkwardly from your passenger seat, from across the booth, from the end of my row in class when I have to try too hard not to look at you. And yeah, love is a strong word. But hey, it’s in the song, so why not?

At this point, though, I just feel lucky to even know you. You’re one of the most incredibly talented people I’ve ever met. Your humor gets me every time, and I love the way that you listen to what people say. That sounds simple, but listening is such a skill. Listening and understanding and acting like you give a **** are so hard to master, and you do them all with ease. I think that’s what makes you such a good conversationalist. And there’s something about hugging you that’s making me tear up a little right now (****, I’m weird, I know). But I feel really small a lot of the time. And having you reach out and pay attention to me, even for just a few seconds, makes me feel so incredibly lucky. Because if someone as wonderful as you is willing to hold me for a minute and make me feel special, then there is hope for the happy girl in me.

I honestly could write you a short novel about how great I think you are, but I don’t even know how you feel about me yet. I could just be that creepy girl that won’t leave you alone. For now, I’m content to be the girl that loves a little from afar. It’s an honor just to fall for you, even if I land hard.
We always try to seek for answers though sometimes asking the right questions have always been the right answer. Read this and try to look back into your life, try to see if you’re steering your life at the right course, following the right heading, and at the right speed.

1. Which is worse, failing or never trying?
2. To what degree have you actually controlled the course your life has taken?
3. If life is so short, why do we do so many things we don’t like and like so many things we don’t do?
4. When it’s all said and done, will you have said more than you’ve done?
5. If happiness was the national currency, what kind of work would make you rich?
6. If the average human life span was 30 years, how would you live your life differently?
7. Are you more worried about doing things right, or doing the right things?
8. You’re having lunch with three people you respect and admire.  They all start criticizing a close friend of yours, not knowing she is your friend.  The criticism is distasteful and unjustified.  What do you do?
9. If you only one piece of advice, what would it be?
10. Have you ever seen insanity where you later saw creativity?
11. How come the things that make you happy don’t make everyone happy?
12. What one thing have you not done that you really want to do?  What’s holding you back?
13. Are you holding onto something you need to let go of?
14. Do you click the mouse more than once?  Do you really believe it loads faster?
15. Would you rather be a worried genius or a joyful simpleton?
16. Have you been the kind of friend you want as a friend?
17. Which is worse, when a good friend moves away, or losing touch with a good friend who lives right near you?
18. What are you most grateful for?
19. Is it possible to know the truth without challenging it first?
20. Has your greatest fear ever came true?
21. Do you remember that time 3 years ago when you were extremely upset, angry, and embarrassed?  Does it really matter now?
22. If not now, then when?
23. If you haven’t achieved it yet, what do you have to lose?
24. Why do religions that support love and cause so many wars?
25. If you just won a million dollars, would you still pursue your career?
26. Would you rather have less work to do, or more work you actually enjoy doing?
27. Do you feel like you’ve lived this day a hundred times before?
28. If you knew that everyone you know was going to die tomorrow, who would you visit today?
29. What is the difference between being alive and truly living?
30. Why are you here?
31. When it is time to stop calculating risk and rewards, and just go ahead and do what you know is right?
32. Can you count all your money while you hold your breath?
33. If we learn from our mistakes, why are we always so afraid to make a mistake?
34. What would you do differently if you knew nobody would judge you?
35. When was the last time you noticed the sound of your own breathing and feel the beat of your heart?
36. In 5 years from now, will you remember what you did yesterday?  What about the day before that?  Or the day before that?
37. Decisions are being made right now.  The question is:  Are you making them for yourself, or are you letting others make them for you?
38. What would you give up for your friends?
39. Do you rather reach for the peak to be cold and lonely or stay at the surrounded with the people you love?
40. What are the things that you have done lately to achieve your dreams?
*41. Would you stepped on other people just to have what you want?
Compiled by me, :D
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
Can you stand there looking on
As the innocent die?
Will you speak up for your own good
And for the sake of a life?
The guilt may not belong to them
An execution unjustified
The only thing to do
Is pursue the truth
And make sense of what's in front of you

When is it time to pull the plug
On someone who still breathes?
Who can decided when it's time
For them to be at peace?
Is it to act on their behalf
Or to act selfishly?
The only thing to do
Is pursue the truth
And make sense of what's in front of you

When is the exact moment when
A fetus is considered alive?
Is it merciful to abort it when
You know it won't survive?
Was it carelessness or misfortune
That has brought you here to decide?
The only thing to do
Is pursue the truth
And make sense of what's in front of you

Are we not all humans who may want companionship
And might be willing to take that sacred vow?
Then why are those who found it in the same gender
Told their love is not allowed?
Who is to say that it is wrong?
Isn't love what it's all about?
The only thing to do
Is pursue the truth
And make sense of what's in front of you

Where does it say that you can't have ***
Unless you are married?
It is your own choice and we must respect
The beliefs that each of us carries
For we have our own  reasons
And circumstances varies
The only thing to do
Is pursue the truth
And make sense of what's in front of you

When is it right to start a war
And fight with bullets and bombs?
Religious scuffles and political disputes
About who was right and who was wrong
Does the world need more bloodshed
Or has it gone on for too long?
The only thing to do
Is pursue the truth
And make sense of what's in front of you

I ask you these things to make you think
So we can find an answer hopefully
These are issues we as one world must face
And though we may not all agree
We must try to communicate
If we ever want peace universally
The only thing to do
Is pursue the truth
And make sense of what's in front of you
Jenna Mar 2019
All everyone hears outside
as the loud whistle intensified;
the creeping fate magnified
making us constantly reside

Here I sat next to my bedside
this wouldn't be the first time I cried
helplessly stuck inside
this was happening worldwide

All I did was hug my teddy bear and hide
waiting for my dad to arrive
wondering if he did survive
we never did get to say goodbye

My eyes felt dried
and couldn't help feeling terrified
with a thought that amplified
that he may have already died

An increasing want to lay aside
with my teddy bear to randomly confide
no matter how much I begged, it never replied
angrily launching it across the room, dissatisfied

This place wasn't fortified
but it was supplied
that was all they could provide
as everyone ran countrywide

If only our country allied
though it seemed nullified
it was now my time to decide
whether or not to commit suicide

It would be better than committing homicide
though no matter how I tried
there wasn't any emotion identified
Besides hoping that no will be satisfied

Because this is one thing that couldn't be,
Unjustified.
Hal Loyd Denton Nov 2011
Night thoughts
Where do they come from nocturnal musings and dreams I have done my best to push back deaths pain if even only an inch that is a gain for you a little bit of space a touch of comfort if you ask me what do you know about pain. In a six year span I lost my only living sister four years later her only daughter two years after that a mother that I never had to lose in the first place. Now for some of the names I know personally Jack Jeffrey Jack Cloe Buck and Josh, Howard Greg’s wife’s dad big Tom **** P. Jim M. Homer Rick there are others that read this I don’t know your loved ones but it written for you as well because God knows. So many times people ask well why God doesn’t do something. I can’t answer fully and I surly don’t want to give some small folksy half hearted attempt. I will answer a couple of ways God hates death he could have said anything in any language but the first thing he said that would be destroyed is death he didn’t create it it is the unalterable fact that springs from sin he dealt with it I will speak about it in a minute. Another part of the answer I said this is unreachable Why did Socrates die after drinking Hemlock he didn’t have to yes he did truth left him without a choice God is the same way sin demands death truth for Socrates was death rather than betray the very men that killed him he willing to his spirit the hemlock was sweet as life giving water. He became a part of truths everlasting fountain Jesus circumvented death all of our sins are bitter to him let me relate these stories and drive the point to the deepest level. The first one is personal my wife and I went from the bay area eighty miles south to Monterey California we spent the day at the sea shore and our final stop was at fisherman’s Warf four to five hours later Mexican gang bangers pulled up to two young female students from the Presidio and shot them dead then went over on Fremont street in Sea Side shot down a middle age Mexican woman animals don’t have a race true to the predators code everyone is fair game. This was all done so they could earn their gang colors. For two and a half years I lived in and out of Monterey and Sea Side after getting out of the service I had a painting job on the Presidio. It was personal but this came even closer to home I told my cousin if you go hunting you have about fifty percent chance ending up the prey in someone’s gun sight. Two months pass a kid up the street on Blacow Rd I Lived on this street for twenty five years all he was doing was pedaling his bicycle a shot rings out broad day light he is gone his crime his mother country flies a Mexican flag. Two nights later a mother misses her ride to work she is scared of the dark streets her teenage daughter walks with her it’s two in the morning it’s just unjustified fear at a corner in the better part of Fremont a car pulls up along the mother and daughter the human thing would have been can I give you a lift this was no human the monster picked up a fallen limb and beat them both to death as they screamed to their family in the cell phone they were poor Mexican immigrants. This is gut wrenching writing but this is the very reason your savior hung between earth and heaven this didn’t have to happen this is human evil in the extreme.
The evil perpetrated against the pure innocent Son of God was explained in search for truth a bible study program our church has if I knew what it contained I wouldn’t have read it I wouldn’t put it here I’m trying to drive death’s initial pain and it’s lingering effects off of souls that they can breathe a little freedom. It described the crucifixion in two ways the physical and emotional or moral revulsion Christ felt. First they beat him we all know that then they took a cat of nine tails and tied to each end they had fixed metal or bone then they beat him with it forty times until it cut him open leaving entrails exposed pulled out his beard. Rammed a crown of thorns into his brow then mocked him calling him king of the Jews. Then there were the sins and their raging affect was put like this take your sainted mother out of her home away from her family then install her in a ***** house. Jesus felt even more no one can feel the depths that he feels and has suffered because he loves us the cross his Hemlock It was not sweet but the rivers of living water you can know were dug at Calvary I don’t know it but I wouldn’t be surprised if they aren’t the many tears he wept before Calvary and after. I can’t verify this but I can verify he still cries today you decide I was working at a car auction it was late I was by myself as I walked up to Karen’s desk she had a picture where she was sitting on a car the sun was shining bright she had her arms over her head in exhilaration it was a beautiful picture. I knew her story minimally I never talked to her I knew she was nineteen a single mother and had a fifteen month old little boy. Then unexplainably I started to cry uncontrollably this went on for an hour I had been praying for the people who had desks there I thought that was it. The next day I showed up the place was closed the guard told me Karen was killed when her and her friend were on the golf cart they used to get from building to building it was such a big place. Her friend driving in fun ****** the wheel it threw Karen out on the asphalt breaking her neck. There is a song that says he saw my need I stood by her desk Jesus was there he knew what tomorrow held I was just caught in the blow back from his sorrow and tears he was shedding. Yes he agonizes for you he carried into his domain the agony I felt was tremendous though I was unaware of what was going on. I’m sorry I can’t finish this as I was going to I wrote to many sacred things then even to express even those things for your comfort isn’t right to put them here.
-----------------------------------------------------------­---------------------
brooke Mar 2013
they have stayed friends
with all the people who
have ever hurt me,
******* stick
together I
guess.
(c) Brooke Otto


to everyone I know.
~~~
Break the time like the twisted tins
on the shack
which had broken at the time of tornado
Squeeze out of the truth
As the juice of the fruits

The old saying
but the truth
Forcibly changed history
Erase from the mind
understand that false

The poem on the torn page
piece set of words
blowing together as a new blend
Just like the Rubik cubes to match
with wit and strategy

Man I
Still hidden inside
Persist - for defeat - burn and broken
Wrath - dreams breaking tension
Anger - failure to prove myself worthy of
Huff - your aloof exit
Boast - a liking to thee,
            love for getting

- The ability to be able to still speak of love
Like to wandering away from the land of Stars
Unjustified
For no reason
~~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
Anoushka B Jun 2014
We are the material of dreams
A constellation falling into place
We live on edges and whims
An exploration in the dim
Our cigarettes are brighter than our eyes
Kisses forced and unjustified
Our lips reek of haem
And our veins burst at their seams
We fall with a dull thud far from elegance
Mirroring our left of paragons
'Am I to last?' I remember me say
And you say crying, 'Your sad eyes gave you away'
Leah Sep 2014
history belongs to the victors.
and so;
if I get through this,
I could say,
that my hair wasn't cheaply dyed and ratty;
but a perfect bottle blonde.
and the way that it fell across my shoulders,
as I slowly put on my leather jacket
in the dark,
was something meaningful,
and something beautiful,
instead of a last resort.
Hal Loyd Denton Sep 2012
Where do they come from nocturnal musings and dreams I have done my best to push back deaths pain if even only an inch that is a gain for you a little bit of space a touch of comfort if you ask me what do you know about pain. In a six year span I lost my only living sister four years later her only daughter two years after that a mother that I never had to lose in the first place. Now for some of the names I know personally Jack Jeffrey Jack Cloe Buck and Josh, Howard Greg’s wife’s dad big Tom **** P. Jim M. Homer Rick there are others that read this I don’t know your loved ones but it written for you as well because God knows. So many times people ask well why God doesn’t do something. I can’t answer fully and I surly don’t want to give some small folksy half hearted attempt. I will answer a couple of ways God hates death he could have said anything in any language but the first thing he said that would be destroyed is death he didn’t create it it is the unalterable fact that springs from sin he dealt with it I will speak about it in a minute. Another part of the answer I said this is unreachable Why did Socrates die after drinking Hemlock he didn’t have to yes he did truth left him without a choice God is the same way sin demands death truth for Socrates was death rather than betray the very men that killed him he willing to his spirit the hemlock was sweet as life giving water. He became a part of truths everlasting fountain Jesus circumvented death all of our sins are bitter to him let me relate these stories and drive the point to the deepest level. The first one is personal my wife and I went from the bay area eighty miles south to Monterey California we spent the day at the sea shore and our final stop was at fisherman’s Warf four to five hours later Mexican gang bangers pulled up to two young female students from the Presidio and shot them dead then went over on Fremont street in Sea Side shot down a middle age Mexican woman animals don’t have a race true to the predators code everyone is fair game. This was all done so they could earn their gang colors. For two and a half years I lived in and out of Monterey and Sea Side after getting out of the service I had a painting job on the Presidio. It was personal but this came even closer to home I told my cousin if you go hunting you have about fifty percent chance ending up the prey in someone’s gun sight. Two months pass a kid up the street on Blacow Rd I Lived on this street for twenty five years all he was doing was pedaling his bicycle a shot rings out broad day light he is gone his crime his mother country flies a Mexican flag. Two nights later a mother misses her ride to work she is scared of the dark streets her teenage daughter walks with her it’s two in the morning it’s just unjustified fear at a corner in the better part of Fremont a car pulls up along the mother and daughter the human thing would have been can I give you a lift this was no human the monster picked up a fallen limb and beat them both to death as they screamed to their family in the cell phone they were poor Mexican immigrants. This is gut wrenching writing but this is the very reason your savior hung between earth and heaven this didn’t have to happen this is human evil in the extreme.
The evil perpetrated against the pure innocent Son of God was explained in search for truth a bible study program our church has if I knew what it contained I wouldn’t have read it I wouldn’t put it here I’m trying to drive death’s initial pain and it’s lingering effects off of souls that they can breathe a little freedom. It described the crucifixion in two ways the physical and emotional or moral revulsion Christ felt. First they beat him we all know that then they took a cat of nine tails and tied to each end they had fixed metal or bone then they beat him with it forty times until it cut him open leaving entrails exposed pulled out his beard. Rammed a crown of thorns into his brow then mocked him calling him king of the Jews. Then there were the sins and their raging affect was put like this take your sainted mother out of her home away from her family then install her in a ***** house. Jesus felt even more no one can feel the depths that he feels and has suffered because he loves us the cross his Hemlock It was not sweet but the rivers of living water you can know were dug at Calvary I don’t know it but I wouldn’t be surprised if they aren’t the many tears he wept before Calvary and after. I can’t verify this but I can verify he still cries today you decide I was working at a car auction it was late I was by myself as I walked up to Karen’s desk she had a picture where she was sitting on a car the sun was shining bright she had her arms over her head in exhilaration it was a beautiful picture. I knew her story minimally I never talked to her I knew she was nineteen a single mother and had a fifteen month old little boy. Then unexplainably I started to cry uncontrollably this went on for an hour I had been praying for the people who had desks there I thought that was it. The next day I showed up the place was closed the guard told me Karen was killed when her and her friend were on the golf cart they used to get from building to building it was such a big place. Her friend driving in fun ****** the wheel it threw Karen out on the asphalt breaking her neck. There is a song that says he saw my need I stood by her desk Jesus was there he knew what tomorrow held I was just caught in the blow back from his sorrow and tears he was shedding. Yes he agonizes for you he carried into his domain the agony I felt was tremendous though I was unaware of what was going on. I’m sorry I can’t finish this as I was going to I wrote to many sacred things then even to express even those things for your comfort isn’t right to put them here.
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2012
Night thoughts
Where do they come from nocturnal musings and dreams I have done my best to push back deaths pain if even only an inch that is a gain for you a little bit of space a touch of comfort if you ask me what do you know about pain. In a six year span I lost my only living sister four years later her only daughter two years after that a mother that I never had to lose in the first place. Now for some of the names I know personally Jack Jeffrey Jack Cloe Buck and Josh, Howard Greg’s wife’s dad big Tom **** P. Jim M. Homer Rick there are others that read this I don’t know your loved ones but it written for you as well because God knows. So many times people ask well why God doesn’t do something. I can’t answer fully and I surly don’t want to give some small folksy half hearted attempt. I will answer a couple of ways God hates death he could have said anything in any language but the first thing he said that would be destroyed is death he didn’t create it it is the unalterable fact that springs from sin he dealt with it I will speak about it in a minute. Another part of the answer I said this is unreachable Why did Socrates die after drinking Hemlock he didn’t have to yes he did truth left him without a choice God is the same way sin demands death truth for Socrates was death rather than betray the very men that killed him he willing to his spirit the hemlock was sweet as life giving water. He became a part of truths everlasting fountain Jesus circumvented death all of our sins are bitter to him let me relate these stories and drive the point to the deepest level. The first one is personal my wife and I went from the bay area eighty miles south to Monterey California we spent the day at the sea shore and our final stop was at fisherman’s Warf four to five hours later Mexican gang bangers pulled up to two young female students from the Presidio and shot them dead then went over on Fremont street in Sea Side shot down a middle age Mexican woman animals don’t have a race true to the predators code everyone is fair game. This was all done so they could earn their gang colors. For two and a half years I lived in and out of Monterey and Sea Side after getting out of the service I had a painting job on the Presidio. It was personal but this came even closer to home I told my cousin if you go hunting you have about fifty percent chance ending up the prey in someone’s gun sight. Two months pass a kid up the street on Blacow Rd I Lived on this street for twenty five years all he was doing was pedaling his bicycle a shot rings out broad day light he is gone his crime his mother country flies a Mexican flag. Two nights later a mother misses her ride to work she is scared of the dark streets her teenage daughter walks with her it’s two in the morning it’s just unjustified fear at a corner in the better part of Fremont a car pulls up along the mother and daughter the human thing would have been can I give you a lift this was no human the monster picked up a fallen limb and beat them both to death as they screamed to their family in the cell phone they were poor Mexican immigrants. This is gut wrenching writing but this is the very reason your savior hung between earth and heaven this didn’t have to happen this is human evil in the extreme.
The evil perpetrated against the pure innocent Son of God was explained in search for truth a bible study program our church has if I knew what it contained I wouldn’t have read it I wouldn’t put it here I’m trying to drive death’s initial pain and it’s lingering effects off of souls that they can breathe a little freedom. It described the crucifixion in two ways the physical and emotional or moral revulsion Christ felt. First they beat him we all know that then they took a cat of nine tails and tied to each end they had fixed metal or bone then they beat him with it forty times until it cut him open leaving entrails exposed pulled out his beard. Rammed a crown of thorns into his brow then mocked him calling him king of the Jews. Then there were the sins and their raging affect was put like this take your sainted mother out of her home away from her family then install her in a ***** house. Jesus felt even more no one can feel the depths that he feels and has suffered because he loves us the cross his Hemlock It was not sweet but the rivers of living water you can know were dug at Calvary I don’t know it but I wouldn’t be surprised if they aren’t the many tears he wept before Calvary and after. I can’t verify this but I can verify he still cries today you decide I was working at a car auction it was late I was by myself as I walked up to Karen’s desk she had a picture where she was sitting on a car the sun was shining bright she had her arms over her head in exhilaration it was a beautiful picture. I knew her story minimally I never talked to her I knew she was nineteen a single mother and had a fifteen month old little boy. Then unexplainably I started to cry uncontrollably this went on for an hour I had been praying for the people who had desks there I thought that was it. The next day I showed up the place was closed the guard told me Karen was killed when her and her friend were on the golf cart they used to get from building to building it was such a big place. Her friend driving in fun ****** the wheel it threw Karen out on the asphalt breaking her neck. There is a song that says he saw my need I stood by her desk Jesus was there he knew what tomorrow held I was just caught in the blow back from his sorrow and tears he was shedding. Yes he agonizes for you he carried into his domain the agony I felt was tremendous though I was unaware of what was going on. I’m sorry I can’t finish this as I was going to I wrote to many sacred things then even to express even those things for your comfort isn’t right to put them here.
I am the past and I am the present. I am the digger of graves and the conveyance to them.
I am the string; connected to the puppets that wield my blows.

I am the thing they call, “Havoc” I am the Blue Monkey.

The key to my cage, that which sets me free is your disinterest, your apathy and hate. My freedom to roam unabated is your ignorance, and retribution’s ****** slate.  Man’s violence upon himself is my ignorant inspiration, and I revel in the thought of his de-creation.

I can be found in city and town, in far flung reaches around the world. I can be seen in newscast scenes, I can be found in the eyes of a starving child. My name is celebrated in ball ammo flight, and the pungent aroma of smoke and cordite.

I am the flame set to irreverent crosses; lighting the sky with racist delights, I am the tailor of white sheeted banners so bias. I am the unjustified 13 knots of retribution, fashioned on the hangman’s noose.

I am the thing they call “Havoc” I am the Blue Monkey.

Complacency is my friend, Revenge, my *****. Blood letting my delight, to even senseless scores. My hands are soiled with the lives of many, and I have been given freedoms in place of your outrage. Look around in farm and town, in village and city streets, my presence is everywhere…

Keep sleeping; keep sleeping,
For when you awake, I shall have to go.

I am the vehement articulations of opinion and rhetoric, and in spite of your diatribes,
It is they that give me wing. I am the developer of future battlefields. I was the architect of the Auschwitz oven, the builder of the Berlin wall. I was the sharpened blade of Tutsi, Hutu cleansings. I am the mix master of Jim Jones’s cool aide. I am confusion; I am disassociation, alienation and empty pride.

I am the thing they call “Havoc” I am The Blue Monkey.

You will find me in back alley shooting dens, on skid row’s bleeding pavement.
You will find me in lonely fields and dark forests, within the graves of the murdered unknown. You will see my reflection in broken mirrors, for I celebrate their fall,
And I will revel in the screams of your unheard call.
They call me destruction; I am your neutron bomb. I am the wings of the Enola Gay at thirty thousand feet, reaching out to touch you. With nuclear, holocaust treats.
I am dynamite, TNT, I am the thought imposed in political superiority. I am the IED
On the path of Man’s sacred journey.  I am travail and tribulation.

I am the thing they call “Havoc” I am the Blue Monkey.

I am the summation of all your perceived wrongs, and yet you tarry about,
Clanging self-righteous gongs,
You see, but you are blind, you listen but do not hear. Instead you wallow in the pits of self loathing and determinate fear. And in that fear, it becomes quite clear that indeed your hearts are closed, for to open them wide would cause your heart to collide with the awful truth about me.

Yes, keep sleeping; and sleep well,
For when you awake, I shall have to go.

For I am the thing they call “Havoc” I am the Blue Monkey…
Muggle Ginger Aug 2014
This was a handwritten letter that wasn’t patient enough to wait in the mail. I am a supporter of writing letters.

Our world is drifting from the simplicity of pen and paper. We love to complicate things in life.

I hope this letter can be a simple reminder that there is happiness and hope, even in darkness that reminds you of ink.

The first time I saw you my mind raced to memories of summer days at the beach; campfires; the sound of the ocean.

I thought, “She has no idea how beautiful she is. It doesn't cross her mind that girls envy her and men desire her. She is too concerned with the sound of laughter, and how it makes the darkness step back.”

I make a lot of assumptions, mostly unjustified, about people I cross paths with. But I am sure you are justified in feeling like royalty. You look like happiness.

A fort in the living room that looks like a castle, and cookie dough that tastes like heaven. If the opportunity crosses my path, I would give anything to meet you.

If you walked in front of me, I would think you were a shooting star and make a wish.

Don’t change. Shine unapologetically. You illuminate the humans around you.

Admittedly, the desire to write this letter is still unknown. The desire is there and so here are the words.
The perfect crime
Is rather easy to commit
Each person's limit is one time
There are no victims in this
Because the victim and perpetrator
Can never be the same person
Everything is a controlled factor
And there's nothing to hold you on
No loose ends left untied
You can leave evidence all you want
Your actions go unjustified
Can't send you to jail for such a stunt
And though it is illegal
You won't have to run and hide
The perfect crime for all
Is simply suicide
Hal Loyd Denton Dec 2012
Where do they come from nocturnal musings and dreams I have done my best to push back deaths pain if even only an inch that is a gain for you a little bit of space a touch of comfort if you ask me what do you know about pain. In a six year span I lost my only living sister four years later her only daughter two years after that a mother that I never had to lose in the first place. Now for some of the names I know personally Jack Jeffrey Jack Cloe Buck and Josh, Howard Greg’s wife’s dad big Tom **** P. Jim M. Homer Rick there are others that read this I don’t know your loved ones but it written for you as well because God knows. So many times people ask well why God doesn’t do something. I can’t answer fully and I surly don’t want to give some small folksy half hearted attempt. I will answer a couple of ways God hates death he could have said anything in any language but the first thing he said that would be destroyed is death he didn’t create it it is the unalterable fact that springs from sin he dealt with it I will speak about it in a minute. Another part of the answer I said this is unreachable Why did Socrates die after drinking Hemlock he didn’t have to yes he did truth left him without a choice God is the same way sin demands death truth for Socrates was death rather than betray the very men that killed him he willing to his spirit the hemlock was sweet as life giving water. He became a part of truths everlasting fountain Jesus circumvented death all of our sins are bitter to him let me relate these stories and drive the point to the deepest level. The first one is personal my wife and I went from the bay area eighty miles south to Monterey California we spent the day at the sea shore and our final stop was at fisherman’s Warf four to five hours later Mexican gang bangers pulled up to two young female students from the Presidio and shot them dead then went over on Fremont street in Sea Side shot down a middle age Mexican woman animals don’t have a race true to the predators code everyone is fair game. This was all done so they could earn their gang colors. For two and a half years I lived in and out of Monterey and Sea Side after getting out of the service I had a painting job on the Presidio. It was personal but this came even closer to home I told my cousin if you go hunting you have about fifty percent chance ending up the prey in someone’s gun sight. Two months pass a kid up the street on Blacow Rd I Lived on this street for twenty five years all he was doing was pedaling his bicycle a shot rings out broad day light he is gone his crime his mother country flies a Mexican flag. Two nights later a mother misses her ride to work she is scared of the dark streets her teenage daughter walks with her it’s two in the morning it’s just unjustified fear at a corner in the better part of Fremont a car pulls up along the mother and daughter the human thing would have been can I give you a lift this was no human the monster picked up a fallen limb and beat them both to death as they screamed to their family in the cell phone they were poor Mexican immigrants. This is gut wrenching writing but this is the very reason your savior hung between earth and heaven this didn’t have to happen this is human evil in the extreme.
The evil perpetrated against the pure innocent Son of God was explained in search for truth a bible study program our church has if I knew what it contained I wouldn’t have read it I wouldn’t put it here I’m trying to drive death’s initial pain and it’s lingering effects off of souls that they can breathe a little freedom. It described the crucifixion in two ways the physical and emotional or moral revulsion Christ felt. First they beat him we all know that then they took a cat of nine tails and tied to each end they had fixed metal or bone then they beat him with it forty times until it cut him open leaving entrails exposed pulled out his beard. Rammed a crown of thorns into his brow then mocked him calling him king of the Jews. Then there were the sins and their raging affect was put like this take your sainted mother out of her home away from her family then install her in a ***** house. Jesus felt even more no one can feel the depths that he feels and has suffered because he loves us the cross his Hemlock It was not sweet but the rivers of living water you can know were dug at Calvary I don’t know it but I wouldn’t be surprised if they aren’t the many tears he wept before Calvary and after. I can’t verify this but I can verify he still cries today you decide I was working at a car auction it was late I was by myself as I walked up to Karen’s desk she had a picture where she was sitting on a car the sun was shining bright she had her arms over her head in exhilaration it was a beautiful picture. I knew her story minimally I never talked to her I knew she was nineteen a single mother and had a fifteen month old little boy. Then unexplainably I started to cry uncontrollably this went on for an hour I had been praying for the people who had desks there I thought that was it. The next day I showed up the place was closed the guard told me Karen was killed when her and her friend were on the golf cart they used to get from building to building it was such a big place. Her friend driving in fun ****** the wheel it threw Karen out on the asphalt breaking her neck. There is a song that says he saw my need I stood by her desk Jesus was there he knew what tomorrow held I was just caught in the blow back from his sorrow and tears he was shedding. Yes he agonizes for you he carried into his domain the agony I felt was tremendous though I was unaware of what was going on. I’m sorry I can’t finish this as I was going to I wrote to many sacred things then even to express even those things for your comfort isn’t right to put them here.
JJ Hutton Jun 2010
a little pitter-patter,
postponed the celebration
and clatter.

a little pitter-patter,
**** on our family gatherings
like it made no matter.

pit-pit-pitter-patter.

pit-pit-pitter-patter.

no screaming lights,
the night to
shatter.

boys went on before.
went to unjustified war.
felt the hot

pitter-patter
of hatred,
of lead.

old polititcians
produced
a downpour of pretty promises.

in the form of
"freedom"
"independence"

give 'em pride
and a rifle.
push 'em a trifle
to strengthen their hide.

pit-pit-pitter-patter.

pit-pit-pitter-patter.

postponed 'til the fifth.
so we could remember
dead boys

in convenience.
Copyright 2009 by Joshua J. Hutton
Cedric McClester Apr 2015
By: Cedric McClester

When it comes to six-month-old baby Jim
Yo’ *** is clearly out on a limb
You are the one who fathered him
So you better be runnin to an ATM
What the hell did you expect
Having unprotected ***
It’s unjustified under any pretexts
But ******* are not intellects
Your DNA tells the tale
The moment that you slip or fail
To pay support you’ll go to jail
And you cannot afford the bail
So I’d pay up if I were you
The things you said were not true
If she’s a ** then what are you
Cos you went ******* riding too

Where does he find ‘em (I don’t know)
The guests seen on the Maury Show
When it comes to ... (oh **** here we go)
You are the father (***** don’t you know?)

The girl comes on and says she’s sure
But he calls her a **** and *****
Because they did it on the floor
And she has slept with countless more
Then she says Maury look at that baby
There’s no ifs, ands, buts or maybes
That’s his child (the one he gave me)
I can’t believe he’s gone and played me
Suspense is building on the set
The test results aren’t in yet
But he’s prepared to make a bet
And obviously she’s upset
Once the answer has been found
They both start jumpin up and down
Then she don’t wanna stick around
Her reputation’s in the ground

Where does he find ‘em (I don’t know)
The guests seen on the Maury Show
When it comes to ... (oh **** here we go)
You are the father (***** don’t you know?)

You’d think she’d be embarrassed, yo
But she’ll be back show after show
Claiming she just wants to know
Who’s her baby’s daddy – Oh!

Changing partner like a necklace
How can people be that reckless
She’s so gangsta she reflects this
I’ll be ****** (she’s got a checklist)
Scratchin off names (one by one)
She’s on page two and still not done
Guess you could say she’s had her fun
But she wasn’t the only one
Given all the STDs
That are out there (if you please)
They should be hogtied and seized
Or forced to bow down on their knees
I bet straight *** was not enough
They’ve probably done some other stuff
See tongue disease can be real rough

Where does he find ‘em (I don’t know)
The guests seen on the Maury Show
When it comes to ... (oh **** here we go)
You are the father (***** don’t you know?)

Look at those who’ve come and went
Though that wasn’t their intent
Most of ‘em can’t catch a hint
See they’re beyond embarrassment
All because they shook their fatties
At all of those potential daddies
None of whom wore Jimmy hatties
Now those mommas goin batty
Watch and pray that it’s not you
None of ‘em have a clue
Wouldn’t you have thought they knew
Who they’re giving their stuff to
But that would be too **** easy
Look at ‘em they sure look greasy
Some of ‘em are down right ******
And none of ‘em are built to please see

You’d think she’d be embarrassed, yo
But she’ll be back show after show
Claiming she just wants to know
Who’s her baby’s daddy – Oh!

Where does he find ‘em (I don’t know)
The guests seen on the Maury Show
When it comes to ... (oh **** here we go)
You are the father (***** don’t you know?)

When it comes to six-month-old baby Jim
Yo’ *** is clearly out on a limb
You are the one who fathered him
So you better be runnin to an ATM
What the hell did you expect
Having unprotected ***
It’s unjustified under any pretexts
But ******* are not intellects
Your DNA tells the tale
The moment that you slip or fail
To pay support you’ll go to jail
And you cannot afford the bail
So I’d pay up if I were you
The things you said were not true
If she’s a ** then what are you
Cos you went ******* riding too


(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.   All rights reserved.
Lori Jean Mar 2011
Missy, Missy Mortimer
How does your steel heart beat?
Your bloodline oxidized by hate
Satan can’t compete.

Missy, Missy Mortimer
Who do you think you are?
A pure facade of intellect
Matched by your ugly scars.

Missy, Missy Mortimer
Obstinate, careless, crude…
Hell awaits your filthy soul
As you practice being rude.

Missy, Missy Mortimer
Insult; demean; degrade
The power you pretend to hold
In your foolish mind is made

You cast away the moral code
Or perhaps it’s just amiss
You justify your horrid ways
Your arrogance now bliss.

Manipulation, you hold dear
As if all cannot see
With precision you decide your mark
You aim, and shoot; well pleased.

Missy, Missy Mortimer
No warning you deserve
To crush and stomp on human hearts
Compassion; no reserve

Oh Missy, you may think you’ve won
A pin for your collection
You controlled and shoved me out your door
Unjustified rejection.

As soon as I can gain the strength
Forgiveness I shall find
Your ugliness is pitiful
But the Lord’s a friend of mine.

He watched you’re actions closely
He sadly shook his head
Your Father, He wants more for you
But on thin ice, you tread.

Missy, Missy, Mortimer
I pray you hear His call
Until then, you stand on the edge
Your back against the wall.
Copyright 03.30.2011 Lori Jean Vance
AvengingPoet Sep 2014
The so-called artists
with their ‘emotions’
are too afraid
to commentate
on the politics of the day
and keep on putting their faith
on ‘hope’ and ‘change’
by the Democrats and the Republicans
as you are blinded
by a set of lies
by the empire
and you continue to do what they told ya
as you write away on the page
with your ‘emotions’
and that is great and all
but you need to realize it’s time to care
and stop reading and watching NBC
or Fox News or any of the major conglomerates
or **** like Buzzfeed and UpWorthy or Salon
or Huffington Post and read between the lines
and look to alternative media before it’s too ******* late
and you’ve all been brainwashed
as you continue to write ‘emotions’ on the page
again and again…

I think I heard a shot.

The Warrior Cop has struck again.

The unjustified war has begun again.

The Big Business (Government) has lied once again.

I think I heard a shot…
Hal Loyd Denton Nov 2013
Night Thoughts

Where do they come from nocturnal musings and dreams I have done my best to push back deaths pain if even only an inch that is a gain for you a little bit of space a touch of comfort if you ask me what do you know about pain. In a six year span I lost my only living sister four years later her only daughter two years after that a mother that I never had to lose in the first place. Now for some of the names I know personally Jack Jeffrey Jack Cloe Buck and Josh, Howard Greg’s wife’s dad big Tom **** P. Jim M. Homer Rick there are others that read this I don’t know your loved ones but it written for you as well because God knows. So many times people ask well why God doesn’t do something. I can’t answer fully and I surly don’t want to give some small folksy half hearted attempt. I will answer a couple of ways God hates death he could have said anything in any language but the first thing he said that would be destroyed is death he didn’t create it it is the unalterable fact that springs from sin he dealt with it I will speak about it in a minute. Another part of the answer I said this is unreachable Why did Socrates die after drinking Hemlock he didn’t have to yes he did truth left him without a choice God is the same way sin demands death truth for Socrates was death rather than betray the very men that killed him he willing to his spirit the hemlock was sweet as life giving water. He became a part of truths everlasting fountain Jesus circumvented death all of our sins are bitter to him let me relate these stories and drive the point to the deepest level. The first one is personal my wife and I went from the bay area eighty miles south to Monterey California we spent the day at the sea shore and our final stop was at fisherman’s Warf four to five hours later Mexican gang bangers pulled up to two young female students from the Presidio and shot them dead then went over on Fremont street in Sea Side shot down a middle age Mexican woman animals don’t have a race true to the predators code everyone is fair game. This was all done so they could earn their gang colors. For two and a half years I lived in and out of Monterey and Sea Side after getting out of the service I had a painting job on the Presidio. It was personal but this came even closer to home I told my cousin if you go hunting you have about fifty percent chance ending up the prey in someone’s gun sight. Two months pass a kid up the street on Blacow Rd I Lived on this street for twenty five years all he was doing was pedaling his bicycle a shot rings out broad day light he is gone his crime his mother country flies a Mexican flag. Two nights later a mother misses her ride to work she is scared of the dark streets her teenage daughter walks with her it’s two in the morning it’s just unjustified fear at a corner in the better part of Fremont a car pulls up along the mother and daughter the human thing would have been can I give you a lift this was no human the monster picked up a fallen limb and beat them both to death as they screamed to their family in the cell phone they were poor Mexican immigrants. This is gut wrenching writing but this is the very reason your savior hung between earth and heaven this didn’t have to happen this is human evil in the extreme.
The evil perpetrated against the pure innocent Son of God was explained in search for truth a bible study program our church has if I knew what it contained I wouldn’t have read it I wouldn’t put it here I’m trying to drive death’s initial pain and it’s lingering effects off of souls that they can breathe a little freedom. It described the crucifixion in two ways the physical and emotional or moral revulsion Christ felt. First they beat him we all know that then they took a cat of nine tails and tied to each end they had fixed metal or bone then they beat him with it forty times until it cut him open leaving entrails exposed pulled out his beard. Rammed a crown of thorns into his brow then mocked him calling him king of the Jews. Then there were the sins and their raging affect was put like this take your sainted mother out of her home away from her family then install her in a ***** house. Jesus felt even more no one can feel the depths that he feels and has suffered because he loves us the cross his Hemlock It was not sweet but the rivers of living water you can know were dug at Calvary I don’t know it but I wouldn’t be surprised if they aren’t the many tears he wept before Calvary and after. I can’t verify this but I can verify he still cries today you decide I was working at a car auction it was late I was by myself as I walked up to Karen’s desk she had a picture where she was sitting on a car the sun was shining bright she had her arms over her head in exhilaration it was a beautiful picture. I knew her story minimally I never talked to her I knew she was nineteen a single mother and had a fifteen month old little boy. Then unexplainably I started to cry uncontrollably this went on for an hour I had been praying for the people who had desks there I thought that was it. The next day I showed up the place was closed the guard told me Karen was killed when her and her friend were on the golf cart they used to get from building to building it was such a big place. Her friend driving in fun ****** the wheel it threw Karen out on the asphalt breaking her neck. There is a song that says he saw my need I stood by her desk Jesus was there he knew what tomorrow held I was just caught in the blow back from his sorrow and tears he was shedding. Yes he agonizes for you he carried into his domain the agony I felt was tremendous though I was unaware of what was going on. I’m sorry I can’t finish this as I was going to I wrote to many sacred things then even to express even those things for your comfort isn’t right to put them here.
Joseph Childress Sep 2010
Discombobulated...

"Bob! You late Again!?"
Its not
A statement
You can make
To make her change
The date again

Happy Belated
Birthday celebrations
Embracing
Her forgiveness
As the cure
For your forgets
Forged
Your signature style
Across the lines
Of her smile
As you kiss
With the intent
To signal her bliss
And ignorance

What's in store
For her
Is distortion
This portion of life
Fused with confusion
Contortionist
Twisting
The body
Of lies
With the a prose
That matches
Her pose
Unjustified margins
Never
Crossing the red line
But riding it
Writing with a wit
That could
Split her brain
In half
You call it
The gift a gab

Emotions versus Logic
The verse is
Littered with poetry
Personified
As a woman
Mixed feelings
Remixed
And mastered
To produce
A new product
For you to accept
Instead
You neglect

Her
Collected thoughts
!Implode!
She gathers
The pieces
To gain recollection
Of what happened

To her
To you
To love

She battles
Herself
To win the war
With you

Tie the knot
For christ sake!
Or undue
"To hell
With you!"

She yells
Her voice fails
To really reach you
It takes
Two
To tangle
Not to tango
To tango
Is to dance
And you'd
Miss your step
Every chance
You get

She feels
Obligated
To feel
For her first love
Inoculated
By the drug
That leaves her

Discombobulated...
Follow me @TheInsomaniac
Fluffy Genocide Feb 2014
I'm breaking down.
I'm going numb
running from the future
no solace in the past

I can't stand the way you two smile
holding each other in a loving embrace
and so here i stand
watching my veins bleed

I know i'm crazy
Feelings unjustified
I know i'm losing it
Anxiety and fear clouding fact
So i smile along
to the beat of the drums

I just want someone to see me
for who i am
the prying eyes fading away
i want them to hold me
in a sickening sweet embrace
and tell me that though i'm breaking down.

tell me
"you're going to be okay."
Powder of ashes like snowfall in winter

The air and army withered in a splinter

Smoky-grey flaky leaves dead and forgotten

Each cobblestone tinted and tainted

Things of dishearten

I stand in the middle of a big large road

With ashen embers resting on my lashes

My coat and tote limp from the bashes

People lay, some far away and some grey,

The death spell cast on all the bay

I feel a tug in my heart,

Shocked at the sight

Cursed fates for a deadly plight

I stand alone, guilty for having survived

No goodbyes or funerals to leave me teary-eyed

The carpet of carcasses in front of me lay

Left me with loud realization of a lonesome foray

I wished I were blamed for their unjustified departure

Or for my survival inexplicable in any form of literature

The sky now looks a faded rotten orange

With the embers settled like a thick mat on the ground

Suddenly the sound of tip tap made me jump

From my lost thoughts.

My coat and tote comes back to life

I feel a tug and around my calf a hug

The most innocent eyes looked up at me

And said, “Mommy, I want to go home please…”

— The End —