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"unsupervised" poems
i want unity without alliegence for once let there be no strings attached lets act like we stand firmly on our feet face our defeats and take the blame for our actions lets be adults and go unsupervised i dont need you you dont need me but lets drink to our independence faithfully
0
Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 7:41 AM UTC
unity
Why is little Musa working in these diamond dirt pits, Digging from sunset to sundown Where are the laws that protect children 's rights, Why is he left unsupervised working on his own? Musa Struggled from early childhood with all his strengths Now he can hardly stand because of damaged vertebrates To know the number of free hours he worked, do the maths Yet some lucky girl somewhere celebrates. So How can he labor as a slave when he's just a boy? How can Musa smile when he has no joy? How can he run when he has no legs, Who will speak for him knowing he has no voice? so How can the opportunity box be opened without the keys How can the world do nothing about his demise, Especially when to stay alive he has to work for food? How can he locate hope if he can't see, How can celebrities adorn diamonds with bad blood, How can this possibly be? So If I can lend my pen to help every child slave working, Then my life on earth is worth living. ✍️#IvanBrookspoetry©️✍️
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Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 12:53 AM UTC
Blood Diamond Pit
I always get up early. Early, early, early and it’s Saturday morning. So I scooted over to “Donut Crazy” and got myself 12 sugar donuts (and a selection of treats for my suitemates - I’m NOT suicidal.) At 8am, I’m in the suite common area, on the couch, binging “Ladybug and Cat Noir” on my iPad and I realize that Leong, one of my suitemates, is sipping her coffee and staring at me like I’m a bad pet. I look around to find myself sitting in a shower of confectioners’ sugar speckles. “In my defense, I was left unsupervised.” I disclaim.
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Oct 30, 2021
Oct 30, 2021 at 11:13 AM UTC
donuts
I have been left unattended for too long, in a city by the Bay & mischief is dying to play, I can only imagine... As the chaos escapes from within The beast is unable to stay tame I AM UNSUPERVISED, IN A CITY THAT DOESN'T KNOW MY NAME.... --TO BE CONTINUED
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Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 4:37 AM UTC
Unsupervised
For more information, including the origin of Honku, please visit the official website: www.honku.org Clogging traffic flow twin, brake riders in the lane, they're really a pain. America's love - Unsupervised car racing on our new highways. Rubbernecking state: Welcome to Connecticut, spend more time on road. Suggestion only? Painted lines are optional for lane straddlers. Forget the roadkill! Rubberneckers demonstrate... Lust for dead bodies.
0
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 6:49 AM UTC
Exerpt #1 (from my unpublished manuscript of Honku poetry)
You are **** and you know it Your life is garbage and you show it You will die soon in the ball pit I'll leave you unsupervised for a minute You make drugs look like candy And you are not even worth it When you were born I tried to prevent it With ****** and **** and even weapons And when you came out I said ********* You make drugs look like candy
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Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 5:34 PM UTC
You make drugs look like candy
picking and scratching my skin bleeding the scars all over remind me of certain times in my life when the stress got too much to handle and I sat in the bathroom for hours destroying the body that was given to me burning down my humble abode just picking and scratching away at my sanity which I'm not sure I ever really had the scars that I get comments on daily 'Did you try to hurt yourself?' 'Are you alright?' 'Are you being abused or unsupervised?' no answer really just staring at them; whilst picking at my scabs in that blissful agony that I love to feel
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
Dermatillomania
Little boys unsupervised genetically designed like toys beguiled by fantasies spontaneously play improvised games like actors with imagined scripts depicting violent scenes as common themes reflecting personalities blooming slowly in the park at the bottom of the street.
0
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
Early Days
You demand that we stop waving our arms about While talking or whenever I do the 3-legged downward dog That reminds you of being abused in another life I know you recognize the delivery man as the abuser Who you bark at fiercely, relentlessly Just as you always growl jealously at Hazel, our neighbor's dog, Despite her best efforts to be your friend I see the wolf in your eyes when you're stalking lizards Running, unleashed, leaping impressively from a standstill Unsupervised in what substitutes poorly for wilder places In our Florida backyard You stare accusingly whenever I talk on the phone Demanding to be heard, too You hear and smell things I cannot imagine Long before they reach my ordinary ears and nose I see you cannot stop digging that hole Next to the patio in my wild grasses garden You eat the finest organic dog food But prefer something dead on the path During your afternoon jog to the beach With Bill, so dismayed, that you enjoy smelly rolling Though you endure your punishment, a scrubbing in the shower Just to cuddle with Bill on the couch all clean and loved I command you to COME HERE when doing yardwork Ignoring me, you trot off towards Federal Highway Or slip through the hedge when I’m weeding-you're a wily one Hoping for wolf adventures like the ones in your dreams Those that turn scary, maybe you get pounced on When you're making terrifying yelping sounds And trembling uncontrollably Waking us all up, leaping up on the bed Scooching to a safe haven between us Beseeching, "Hold me, squeeze me, say it's OK for me to be here!" Hugging you Bill says, "It's OK, there there, he's a good doggie."
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Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 10:29 PM UTC
Buddy, Our Rescue Dog
You demand that we stop waving our arms about While talking or whenever I do the 3-legged downward dog That reminds you of being abused in another life I know you recognize the delivery man as the abuser Who you bark at fiercely, relentlessly Just as you always growl jealously at Hazel, our neighbor's dog, Despite her best efforts to be your friend I see the wolf in your eyes when you're stalking lizards Running, unleashed, leaping impressively from a standstill Unsupervised in what substitutes poorly for wilder places In our Florida backyard You stare accusingly whenever I talk on the phone Demanding to be heard, too You hear and smell things I cannot imagine Long before they reach my ordinary ears and nose I see you cannot stop digging that hole Next to the patio in my wild grasses garden You eat the finest organic dog food But prefer something dead on the path During your afternoon jog to the beach With Bill, so dismayed, that you enjoy smelly rolling Though you endure your punishment, a scrubbing in the shower Just to cuddle with Bill on the couch all clean and loved I command you to COME HERE when doing yardwork Ignoring me, you trot off towards Federal Highway Or slip through the hedge when I’m weeding-you're a wily one Hoping for wolf adventures like the ones in your dreams Those that turn scary, maybe you get pounced on When you're making terrifying yelping sounds And trembling uncontrollably Waking us all up, leaping up on the bed Scooching to a safe haven between us Beseeching, "Hold me, squeeze me, say it's OK for me to be here!" Hugging you Bill says, "It's OK, there there, he's a good doggie."
Continue reading...
34
I fill the place of the inconceivable super babe, While she takes her time to grace Your life with her precious existence, As she is too busy being elsewhere currently. She lurks in the future,  as perfect as she is, She can't seem to trespass the bearings of time. Well that's just awful, I say as we sit on the bus seat, me where she otherwise would be. Some person who may not even exist Takes priority over me. If I didn't practice empathy so well, I would run around your life Like a kid in a candy shop,          Unsupervised, And steal everything of yours that I could. Every memory would be mine, every first Every last, shoved into my socks my boots My coat pockets my hat. I wish sympathy wasn't my speciality Otherwise I'd say quit wasting my time, I know what you're doing because I would do it too. I wish I wasn't selfish, Because the poison I keep in keeping you, Has found it's way into my coffee finally. If I really loved you, If I had the courage to, I'd let you go. I wish I wasn't so afraid, otherwise I'd dispose of you As you once will with me. But these bindings you've built with your grace, and charm And you're so handsome, keep me here, on this bus, Next to you, In place Of someone inconceivable. Remember when I told you That I liked you because you made me feel Inadequate instead of complete? And you said If it ever gets to be a bad feeling of inadequacy Let me know, because it shouldn't be that way. It is that way, When the importance of someone who you have Yet to have met, trumps the simple existence of me. Especially when I am not the girl yet to exist. I'd rather talk about schizophrenics on fire, Or even be a flaming schizophrenic, Than continue on with this conversation.
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Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
Conceivable Normal Girl meets The Flame
I fill the place of the inconceivable super babe, While she takes her time to grace Your life with her precious existence, As she is too busy being elsewhere currently. She lurks in the future,  as perfect as she is, She can't seem to trespass the bearings of time. Well that's just awful, I say as we sit on the bus seat, me where she otherwise would be. Some person who may not even exist Takes priority over me. If I didn't practice empathy so well, I would run around your life Like a kid in a candy shop,          Unsupervised, And steal everything of yours that I could. Every memory would be mine, every first Every last, shoved into my socks my boots My coat pockets my hat. I wish sympathy wasn't my speciality Otherwise I'd say quit wasting my time, I know what you're doing because I would do it too. I wish I wasn't selfish, Because the poison I keep in keeping you, Has found it's way into my coffee finally. If I really loved you, If I had the courage to, I'd let you go. I wish I wasn't so afraid, otherwise I'd dispose of you As you once will with me. But these bindings you've built with your grace, and charm And you're so handsome, keep me here, on this bus, Next to you, In place Of someone inconceivable. Remember when I told you That I liked you because you made me feel Inadequate instead of complete? And you said If it ever gets to be a bad feeling of inadequacy Let me know, because it shouldn't be that way. It is that way, When the importance of someone who you have Yet to have met, trumps the simple existence of me. Especially when I am not the girl yet to exist. I'd rather talk about schizophrenics on fire, Or even be a flaming schizophrenic, Than continue on with this conversation.
Continue reading...
48
The words That slipped unguided, that flew Into you ears Unsupervised, that leapt outward from My teeth, flailing Unintentionally, Those words were Deeply rooted betwix the life I lead & The one I merely Dream of... Those words were Drunken Whispers that clung to My lips in an Increasingly ravenous fashion the More I carried on. brought on by scented winds; Their fragrance intoxicating Any sense of inhibition I once Possessed, labeling me Inadequate In my Present form.
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Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 10:42 PM UTC
Evolution.
I know very Well that I haven’t been The greatest At love, I haven’t chased Grand gestures or vows, But stumbled through The mornings after, The movie dinners, The silences Between us Where love sits, Waiting to be noticed, Not a princess in a tower Waiting to be saved, But just two people, Trying to stay close Despite the gaps. I don’t know if I’ve loved the Imperfections, I’ve loved despite Them, The realization hits Like a slasher movie, Too late at night, And too young And unsupervised, Sometimes I leave Notes hidden in Vases, behind cabinets, Above the fridge, And in the pockets Of the new jeans That I just got, As a reminder to love, Today I found one In my glove compartment, It’s getting cooler so I rolled down the windows And felt the breeze Every time there was a red light, I had the music loud, Enjoying the mess of genres That’s my Spotify playlist, And I savored the moment, In solitude, learning to love, Not despite, but because of.
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Oct 2, 2024
Oct 2, 2024 at 8:33 PM UTC
Not despite, but because of
I just want to dream for awhile Step away from the everyday and relax Because this daily grind has got me perculating And this isn't a blend I can sip casually So let me sleep for a minute Don't make a peep for a minute This here and now needs to become nonexistent for a minute I just want to dream for awhile Take an unsupervised escape somewhere Anywhere but here Maybe there I can find myself Sitting on a beach embracing the sun rays Where she looks so happy I look tired I look like I need to dream for awhile Get caught up in the image drenched clouds above my head That are dripping thoughts into my eyes Weighing down my lids Just let me dream, if only for a little while
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Aug 22, 2010
Aug 22, 2010 at 5:36 PM UTC
Windows
What kind of Sin dares Usher in A devious man to lick his lips, gutteral gasping beneath his Breath The Wonton Musing oozes a delicious Decay, The Poured Out drooling, his Power Pulsing, A Foaming Fantasy Power Tripping ~to Control the Spiritual World at his Will & Command? Here's what he imagined: Biblical Bribery. Blasphemous Forgery Who ever has the money or an Unbridled hand can piecemeal a Story for premeditated Zeal, To make for a more attractive Appeal Why need such profiled Idoltry? To be Present at the Moment of such a Powerful Man's Revelation, Spoken for and too You To be blessed with ears to hear Him To worship At the Alter of Salt A pillar miraculous, To Worship Within, in Him, beside Him. A Scribe Sweats To write furiously away for later reference, Thus Attention is spared and the Sermon Deemed for Organic Lackluster **"Scratch That Oops Edit Kindly Repeat Didn't quite catch That Delete Revise Rephrase Two or One spaced per Sheet? The strain hurts my Eyes When can We Break for Feast? Are We Done for the Day?"** Can this be a possiblity Can a misdirected, Unsupervised Scrupulous Individual Not quietly Misquote The Word trianguled from Mouth to Pen to Paper? The Words We have come to Believe In?? You Tell Me.....
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 1:53 PM UTC
Words from the Scribe
*A woman with reddened hair, Eyes the color of a storm, Smiles as transparent as the air. A tiny little girl, big ***** soon, Watches forlornly, From another room. A little baby boy, clad in red, Unsupervised, Hits his head. Why?*
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Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 4:00 PM UTC
Lost Poem #1 (Dated April 30, 2012)
creak and crash a hundred yards from my bunk dumb metal falls following its unsupervised trajectory i have a helmet i do not wear they always fall while i'm sleeping INCOMING INCOMING INCOMING taking the place of being gently woken by my dog's cold nose on my neck
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Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 6:22 PM UTC
the morning doesn't always come
reading my palm in a gay bar, you come across a long convincing scratch i gave myself accidentally from an unsupervised kitchen knife- your finger glides over the ridges and you make the claim that it’s some deep scar- i say it’s a few days old and the disco lights are outlining all my friends in weird circular scattered patches and i sip my gin and hide my exhale under the bass.
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Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 4:38 PM UTC
crevices/curvature
She declared war upon herself in the midst of her savage self-hatred Cutting her skin and suffocating her throat till she begged for air’s price. She was once was a child afraid of just touching any sharp blade Encase it accidentally cuts her and now: She doesn’t think twice before picking up that blade and shoveling it into her skin like a smith. She baked lies on her forgotten suicide note. Lies that disguised themselves in coats of truth. She strangled her own chest with ropes of words she didn't utter and blocked new hope from unsupervised entering into her dejected lungs that begged for life's meaning not reprimands. But she found no purpose to keep her garden living so she therefore poisoned every plant and washed any seeds of life left in her sunless lands down the drain until she fell into an everlasting sleep. Her wish for peace had come to her but others wept on the loss of a friend, student, daughter, and one less hazed family member. They never believed her when she said she wanted to commit suicide anyways.
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Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 4:08 PM UTC
She’s Dead Now... By Her Own Doing
The sun is shining today, it feels as if it's the first time in weeks I'm sitting outside of a cafe just taking it all in. It's spring break for the public high and middle schools and seeing children running around downtown unsupervised and smiling makes me miss the simplicity of just being a kid, but try as I might, I'm not a kid anymore around this time next year I will be twenty years old which is pretty unbelievable I sit in the midst of a sea of people they ebb and flow like the tides men on their breaks from work their shirts opened down to their chest a casual sunshine fashion statement and the pretty art girls with their pretty faces and pretty dresses walk on by and I can't help but look at them and smile to myself like an utter idiot, but I don't care If you can't smile on a sunny day when can you? I left the windows in my apartment wide open turned on the fans and in an effort to symbolize my victory over the winter I turned the heating off When I get home I think, that I will sit at my desk and write and be inspired by the sounds of the city which ring out in a beautiful cacophony of car horns, construction, laughter, and birds it's sunny today and no matter what happens it will be a good day
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Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
It's Sunny Today
Your curiosity is like a wheel It can’t be stopped by simply ceasing to push it Your curiosity is like a balloon Expanding rapidly until it bursts Your curiosity is like a gun When unsupervised it can be deadly Your curiosity is like a spoon Feeding your hopes for good or for bad
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Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 11:32 PM UTC
To George
We need to talk openly with and about our Demons, 'cause they're always whispering in our ear and waiting on the tip of our tongue, so I find it's better to take those dogs for a walk at least once or twice a day, if not more, than to let them destroy our mental furniture and **** in the pantry, or the bed, as it were, as we're so blissfully content leaving our own Shadow unsupervised; that is, until we find ourselves cast from Grace and play the victim, or create victims- succumbing evermore to our Demons. We have the Will to chose: build pressure, or diffuse it. Do as ye will, but be willing to accept consequences lest ye be a coward and a hypocrite, as is rather in-style, t'would seem
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May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 1:52 PM UTC
Catharsis [Demons]
So it stays unsupervised, while the dealer is away and haters stake to play the game.
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Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 4:52 AM UTC
Latchkey heart