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"upfront" poems
In poetic manipulation In magic of our words Beneath the breath Above duress Let your heavy Hearts be heard In power of rhyme Upfront sublime Equal syllable Entwined In each consecutive Spellbinding high Or Emotionality low Crafted on The twist of tongue Either way Let poetry make us whole We all have the power Write it down lock And load! .........
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Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 9:28 AM UTC
POETRY MAGIC 2
Every death I have felt, or known, In silence, i mourn, Within my breath... No words come upfront Just thoughts, preponderant... I'd feel the freezing cold of an empty space Feel the absence...clearly imagine a lost face No smiles, spanning from cheek to cheek Eyes, seek answers... suddenly, I'm there by the shallow water of the creek While some nearby creatures quietly chirp...and squeak While I......... I could not even speak... Living, Is realizing...and accepting At the right time, they turn brown, the weeds...and reeds, But, under the water...waiting, growing...are their seeds Brown ferns...are almost detached from a mossy concrete wall With a strong current, and wind, they'd be carried...ready to fall The driftwood lying by the shore...is always wet, but petrified Brown fallen leaves, on the green grass...no more hold...crisp and dried, The dead bark of a tree...in pieces...are crumbling... Merging with the wet earth...in a process of fertilizing Deep down under ....a fresh spark of life is starting. All these, remind, Life and death stand side by side, That in the midst of death- Something new is birthed... When faced with death, there is always someone's living breath And, as long as the heart wills to beat Then, life.....will still exist. Hundreds, or a thousand times,   We all have died In the high and low of life's tides, Physically, Emotionally. We remember Those who have left Those who have survived..are still around We think of those who are next to leave, Waiting for their chests' final heave ---And then, we think of ourselves--- Worry not of our own time Make each of our remaining days Be golden, beaming, and bright With good deeds, and straight pathways The earth is a moving circle It makes a round.......as it spins We try to live outwards....and then, within Any way we live it...life is an endless cycle. Sally Copyright March 23, 2016 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 8:32 AM UTC
A THOUSAND DEATHS
Every death I have felt, or known, In silence, i mourn, Within my breath... No words come upfront Just thoughts, preponderant... I'd feel the freezing cold of an empty space Feel the absence...clearly imagine a lost face No smiles, spanning from cheek to cheek Eyes, seek answers... suddenly, I'm there by the shallow water of the creek While some nearby creatures quietly chirp...and squeak While I......... I could not even speak... Living, Is realizing...and accepting At the right time, they turn brown, the weeds...and reeds, But, under the water...waiting, growing...are their seeds Brown ferns...are almost detached from a mossy concrete wall With a strong current, and wind, they'd be carried...ready to fall The driftwood lying by the shore...is always wet, but petrified Brown fallen leaves, on the green grass...no more hold...crisp and dried, The dead bark of a tree...in pieces...are crumbling... Merging with the wet earth...in a process of fertilizing Deep down under ....a fresh spark of life is starting. All these, remind, Life and death stand side by side, That in the midst of death- Something new is birthed... When faced with death, there is always someone's living breath And, as long as the heart wills to beat Then, life.....will still exist. Hundreds, or a thousand times,   We all have died In the high and low of life's tides, Physically, Emotionally. We remember Those who have left Those who have survived..are still around We think of those who are next to leave, Waiting for their chests' final heave ---And then, we think of ourselves--- Worry not of our own time Make each of our remaining days Be golden, beaming, and bright With good deeds, and straight pathways The earth is a moving circle It makes a round.......as it spins We try to live outwards....and then, within Any way we live it...life is an endless cycle. Sally Copyright March 23, 2016 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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54
I thought that I knew you well. I guess not because look at the lies that you tell. I don't know who you are. Heck do you?                                                                               You walk around smiling as if you are so kind an innocent. When you are gushing over with your sneaky ways..and the                           lies. Life would be so much easier if you were honest and upfront.                                                            You say one thing to me and another to them. It all comes back. You pretend to be lost an confused.                                                                                                                     The worst part is that you act as if it's everyone's fault but yours. A man owns up to his words an actions. A man wants to be seen. He doesn't hide behind accessories. Be who you really are. Introduce yourself to the world. Because all they know about you right now..is that you.       are... The Lie.
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Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 8:55 PM UTC
The Lie
No legacy is as rich as honesty to leave behind No asset is as great as honesty that enriches mind No voice is as powerful as honesty,your heart to guide No word is as meaningful as honesty to swell with pride. One who adheres to principle and facts , is honest One who loves for-what-than-who-you are , is honest One who inspires to be fearless and upfront , is honest One who dares to raise voice against injustice, is honest In actions ,words and dealings -be clear and transparent Corruption,bribery,flattery and nepotism-be always against Greats endure pain to follow righteousness,however difficult On life’s tight walk ,do not crave to strike rich without sweat. Win over lies,deceit ,treachery with love,respect and fair play Honesty is a jewel that shines-shines brighter,rest fades away Honesty is a bitter pill to gulp,gulp you must to lead the way Quality than Quantity of life matters most,at the end of the day. A child should be taught to be honest at a very early age Set an example by emoting honesty at every step and stage Honesty instils compassion ,concern,credibility and courage It is a virtue that differentiates between a devil and a sage. Stakes may be high ,don’t ever compromise on values A Right can never ever be Wrong ,however one views Forever under HIS scanner,keep hands clean and heart true (HIS ...GOD) Give best to the humanity the best will come back to you. (C) Bhargavi Ravindra ...........B’lore Dated : 09/05/2019
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Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 7:13 AM UTC
Honesty
Every battle of a warrior is riddled with confused noise! The garment of a warrior is rolled in blood! When the bricks are falling down,  a warrior builds with hewn trees When the sycamore are cut down, a warrior replaces them with cedar In the lifting of the smoke he burns down wickedness and its fire with stout heart Certain in certainty, the trees in the wood  bow to the warring winds in the battle of a warrior! Warrior sings upfront in victory and for victory, standing determined on the mountain of courage and faith, dutifully worshipping on the altar of fearlessness and glory.
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Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 4:27 AM UTC
COLOR OF A WARRIOR
Dazed. The stars never seemed so far away Lying with hopelessness sleeping next to my pillow In the arms of seclusion, still I lay After a long night we formed a ********* No strength to pray Withing my carapace I inquire a reason Of why I'm so numb Where is my lighter? Concealing my pain Where is my grinder? When life is like a sudden rush of fresh air to A raging set of flames Savagely searching for an euphoria But it's the impossible to maintain Longing for an escape Only in sweet serenity But when 5 fingers deadly hugs your heart & wrings out your Innocence, happiness, and tranquility You are forced to watch them leak Decrepit Reaching for a lighter to blaze the leaf Because in the sober mind You Are Weak No that is me. So I begin to pollute my temple Taking it all into my bloodstream With the exhale of a breath In the mist of a cloud I release my exhaustion My emotion and my temper Enhancing my inner being suddenly, I know with facts that I am steel Making it through another dreadful night My wounds are temporarily healed But When there was no soul to console No arms to hold No pen to make art No illumination from the dark Only the flame that I flick Which forms so beautifully & Dances in front of my eyes Offended that beauty could destroy so ruthlessly A killer in disguise Or ruthlessly be destroyed In this life full of void Consumed by the misery of all the screams All the noise When the Sun's job is done, it hides from the World Full of hatred and pity Another night comes Captive in these four walls No where to run Now I'm forced to look at how far I've come I could have died in insanity Arson my soul Plead guilty of ****** A Killer Upfront If I had not match all those nights with all those blunts                             Copy Right 2013                                  ©Patty Ann
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Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 5:08 PM UTC
All those nights, All those blunts
Dazed. The stars never seemed so far away Lying with hopelessness sleeping next to my pillow In the arms of seclusion, still I lay After a long night we formed a ********* No strength to pray Withing my carapace I inquire a reason Of why I'm so numb Where is my lighter? Concealing my pain Where is my grinder? When life is like a sudden rush of fresh air to A raging set of flames Savagely searching for an euphoria But it's the impossible to maintain Longing for an escape Only in sweet serenity But when 5 fingers deadly hugs your heart & wrings out your Innocence, happiness, and tranquility You are forced to watch them leak Decrepit Reaching for a lighter to blaze the leaf Because in the sober mind You Are Weak No that is me. So I begin to pollute my temple Taking it all into my bloodstream With the exhale of a breath In the mist of a cloud I release my exhaustion My emotion and my temper Enhancing my inner being suddenly, I know with facts that I am steel Making it through another dreadful night My wounds are temporarily healed But When there was no soul to console No arms to hold No pen to make art No illumination from the dark Only the flame that I flick Which forms so beautifully & Dances in front of my eyes Offended that beauty could destroy so ruthlessly A killer in disguise Or ruthlessly be destroyed In this life full of void Consumed by the misery of all the screams All the noise When the Sun's job is done, it hides from the World Full of hatred and pity Another night comes Captive in these four walls No where to run Now I'm forced to look at how far I've come I could have died in insanity Arson my soul Plead guilty of ****** A Killer Upfront If I had not match all those nights with all those blunts                             Copy Right 2013                                  ©Patty Ann
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64
Over and over you love to judge. Genuine at times or due to grudge. Your approach frank and upfront. Your judgments brute and blunt. Judgement on anyone and everyone. You judge all, you spare none. O you innocent! if you only knew. All your judgments will judge you.
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Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 9:24 PM UTC
Judgements
Clear, serene, crystal pool of collected calm naked to the eye, deceiver of the deceived. I see myself in you. And so much i hate. For you spectators are sport; To be picked and plowed, ticked and crossed. Making old wrongs new. Fooling all. You lie to my face, I see how you bend and twist your shape. Contorting my view. Calling me untrue. Nothing is upfront. My hands are tied behind, a foot above hovers the dagger. It hangs, yellow, brittle, jagged canine. Reminds me of your smile. Villains smile. One day I will rap a knuckle, crack your rattling skull. I will open that box and set evil upon the world. All I have ever known. Seven years bad luck; better than a life time.
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Mar 17, 2012
Mar 17, 2012 at 9:39 AM UTC
Who ever heard of a blue eyed Monster?
-the global strongman, and how to survive him "Our leader is a good man, he knows what is right." He needs no wicked science, all he needs is strong believers.      They don't like competence, they hate discretion.      Cast down your glance for their eager eyes. "Ang aming mga lider ay isang mabuting tao, alam niya kung ano ang tama." He is an ardent lover of justice, killing criminal vermin at all cost.      They want to bring you down, my friend,      they like us unlike them. "Wǒmen de lǐngdǎo shì yīgè hǎorén, tā zhīdào shénme shì duì de." He needs no shrewd lawyers, he senses who is guilty.      By hunger and chaos they make you foul your mouth,      our hate and cursing will set us all apart. "Nash lider - khoroshiy chelovek, on znayet, chto pravil'no." Now don't get naughty, you know, just behave.      Raise your head, man, raise your feeble voice:      let's sing our songs, let's come together. "Liderimiz iyi bir insandır, doğru olanı biliyor." He's towering above all of us, he'll crush the faintest uprising upfront.      Heureux qui comme Ulysse a fait un beau voyage      - et puis est retourne plein d'usage et raison.      Fortunate the guy who fared well on his travels      - and returned, a man of the world, full of wisdom. "Our leader is a good man, he knows what is right."
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Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 3:44 PM UTC
This price for peace
Living on borrowed time Decision at drop of a hat Down an empty vandalized street, I walk through the horror of silence and silence of serenity perdurable pathway of life The ghastly sights and the rustling gates scattered people with unknown tastes emptiness in their eyes, anger in their words void is profound down the perdurable pathway of life Bifurcated roads upfront my perception, one to hell and one to heaven the other end of roads, a mystery I stood there comprehending, while my mind harks back to before I came down the perdurable pathway of life Endurance of a toiler Stoicism, a rare trait, out of gratitude to employer pain and suffering he undergoes for common good loyalty to his master, inspire of hardships sincerity and humbleness of the bloke will inspire me, down the perdurable pathway of life Deprived of education desolated on streets laboring disparate from parental love, subject to father's fury fractious relations but still ignores himself, for family and domicile The kid's love and determination, will inspire me down the perdurable pathway of life Spurn love took her down Her heart wrenched and pushed her beyond limits killed herself, leaving her parents to sore reality not a wise choice, but courageous I ponder upon courage, rather than cowardly suicide Death is not an option down the perdurable pathway of life Happy faces around taunt me to do simplest Reality speaks otherwise Reckoning on past, the pathway is wrought conscious and hard choices right ahead The bifurcated roads to heaven and hell? I've seen it all, down the perdurable pathway of life
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Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 4:52 AM UTC
The Ghastly Choices
Living on borrowed time Decision at drop of a hat Down an empty vandalized street, I walk through the horror of silence and silence of serenity perdurable pathway of life The ghastly sights and the rustling gates scattered people with unknown tastes emptiness in their eyes, anger in their words void is profound down the perdurable pathway of life Bifurcated roads upfront my perception, one to hell and one to heaven the other end of roads, a mystery I stood there comprehending, while my mind harks back to before I came down the perdurable pathway of life Endurance of a toiler Stoicism, a rare trait, out of gratitude to employer pain and suffering he undergoes for common good loyalty to his master, inspire of hardships sincerity and humbleness of the bloke will inspire me, down the perdurable pathway of life Deprived of education desolated on streets laboring disparate from parental love, subject to father's fury fractious relations but still ignores himself, for family and domicile The kid's love and determination, will inspire me down the perdurable pathway of life Spurn love took her down Her heart wrenched and pushed her beyond limits killed herself, leaving her parents to sore reality not a wise choice, but courageous I ponder upon courage, rather than cowardly suicide Death is not an option down the perdurable pathway of life Happy faces around taunt me to do simplest Reality speaks otherwise Reckoning on past, the pathway is wrought conscious and hard choices right ahead The bifurcated roads to heaven and hell? I've seen it all, down the perdurable pathway of life
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42
Assembly, advice, never white fiery sparks ignited The shooting star, comet's orange setting ensemble Tasted like juicy melons tender invisibility scents Town wards were asleep walking upfront the castle's Dust mingled with powder    honeysuckle flower allured Honeymoon to burst out of White Elfs knee long silver hair round Black Elk's belly caressed Pixie had Mahogany Henna Hue red tongue and bluish evanescent Saga of White Elf and Black Elk meeting Honeymoon Pixie Dust
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Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
Honeymoon Pixie Dust
Cords of neck grows tighter as head becomes heavier, standing upfront, facing, pool of black head - class. Those eyes keeps on staring as on naked body, Those mouths keeps on murmuring as a child baby. And yet I didn’t lose to wear a folly smile in gloomy light. Once bluey-green foliage was chirping in cold breeze just like I am shrieking, internally,when I lose my cold chord in middle. Now, tree stand near window, with open brown hand under soggy blue sky. All green gone. Those brown hand become stiffer in cold breeze. Awaiting for autumn to cherry blossom. As I am dying for this period to over, where I stand frozen under black shadow.
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 5:29 AM UTC
A wish for Magic wand
1 Her thick  dark eyebrows did cast a spell first, they are stuck there like vampire bats, they both symbolize  a sinister plot, kept secret, with a 'come hither' prompt, none can resist. She attracted artists in hordes, crazy moths, never did they look above her face,the serpents, lay tangled and acted as if it's smooth coiffure. Wicked lust,aroused by bitter past,                                     made her move with keen  intent an invisible net she carried behind her back. She attacked at opportune moments, pretending she is a lover, with insatiable lust in boil. 2 All crafted lies, simultaneously,she artfully solicited,        colored moths, in her slow fire, they burned, one by one, but one remained stuck there for life, fearing rejection every moment. A crop of heads she reaped , wherever she went, a kite was ever ready to fly her victim-hood colors higher and higher, that made admirers **** in their breath and stoop, before her to her advantage, she had no dearth for volunteers any time. Burning words made her chants fly like fire works, her collection of heads turned stones by admiring her increased, as a huntress she was an ace stuffed in her cubbyhole of a heart, heads of stone languished. 3 Medusa,you don't have sisters, I count it the luck of those  unborn how beautiful, you once were I still remember, though no sun visited the north you spent your childhood. Run, run my feared beauty, to the sun, before your heart get charred by the heat of hatred, you bear in the  Gothic interiors. 4 I hate Perseus, don't you fear your Nemesis? Every Athena you wrongly think your foe  and fight, all your hair turned serpents, still I thought, love would work, without  coming upfront, I kept my flame burning, but all in vein, you could never love anyone, legitimately or otherwise. Your blood, all of it, has turned venom, you spit it, slowly its beauty amazes, even  the victims on the line next...
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Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 2:33 PM UTC
To Medusa, yet again a love poem
1 Her thick  dark eyebrows did cast a spell first, they are stuck there like vampire bats, they both symbolize  a sinister plot, kept secret, with a 'come hither' prompt, none can resist. She attracted artists in hordes, crazy moths, never did they look above her face,the serpents, lay tangled and acted as if it's smooth coiffure. Wicked lust,aroused by bitter past,                                     made her move with keen  intent an invisible net she carried behind her back. She attacked at opportune moments, pretending she is a lover, with insatiable lust in boil. 2 All crafted lies, simultaneously,she artfully solicited,        colored moths, in her slow fire, they burned, one by one, but one remained stuck there for life, fearing rejection every moment. A crop of heads she reaped , wherever she went, a kite was ever ready to fly her victim-hood colors higher and higher, that made admirers **** in their breath and stoop, before her to her advantage, she had no dearth for volunteers any time. Burning words made her chants fly like fire works, her collection of heads turned stones by admiring her increased, as a huntress she was an ace stuffed in her cubbyhole of a heart, heads of stone languished. 3 Medusa,you don't have sisters, I count it the luck of those  unborn how beautiful, you once were I still remember, though no sun visited the north you spent your childhood. Run, run my feared beauty, to the sun, before your heart get charred by the heat of hatred, you bear in the  Gothic interiors. 4 I hate Perseus, don't you fear your Nemesis? Every Athena you wrongly think your foe  and fight, all your hair turned serpents, still I thought, love would work, without  coming upfront, I kept my flame burning, but all in vein, you could never love anyone, legitimately or otherwise. Your blood, all of it, has turned venom, you spit it, slowly its beauty amazes, even  the victims on the line next...
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40
Do you know me? Do I know you? What secrets do you embrace? I have my pleasures, My little treasures. I wonder if I am the only one? They're not to be hidden, Nor are they forbidden. They're just mine. My secrets. For example, Do you like to dance crazily with music loud? Do you do art, paint, draw, create? Do you go for a walk late at night? Do you sit in your room and contemplate? Or do you think about who would win, superman or batman? Do you feel sad? Do you feel happy? Do you have a secret anger that burns you? Or are people as plain as they look upfront? What is it that you do that you hold dear, near and out of fear you keep inside? I wonder. Am I the only one with secrets that no-one knows? Why do I hold them so close? To make them feel like mine. What am I afraid of, That if someone knew my secrets, they would no longer be secret? Why does this make it feel special? If no-one knows about them? If they were known, it would no longer be enjoyable. Is it for the lack of judgement that I tell no soul I know? Or is it to keep it mine and by sharing it, it is no longer mine to share? Is it my secret and do you have any you want to contribute? Then it will be our secret.
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Dec 21, 2023
Dec 21, 2023 at 6:25 PM UTC
My secrets
***Summertime, naked and hot, in winter, still blazing,  buried tinder of our heart; never healed love bites arrow's splinters. Enchanting two violins move red roses to tremble in light wind. A song to see, souls craving to play starry night's glee. I know, I was borne for your body, male; A season too late, too long a foolish desire! tearing us apart, as omnipresent love tale.   Many a night, your lavish words touched me, yielding under your immense beauty,   should I savor for you tremendous desire! Owl's wakeful eyes are thoughts beyond Realms. And you take me there upfront! Summertime, naked and hot, in winters; Never healed love bites arrow's splinters.***
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Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 7:18 AM UTC
Je T'aime . . .
Bear with a sore head Takes coyote on post haste Bore v. Trickster tried Hung court just verdict Bought ideologically Branded! Brig banished Like Guantanamo Force fed on stale chalk Red glib ref to beasts Totalists with clubs Tabulate ***** ad hoc Bring shame to beating When stops suicide? Noble savage survives best Practice leads young straight Where head caravans? Lossless nomads swim through sand To moor oases Connect with bazaars Extra-exponential rock Scissors paper cuts Exacto-knifed sharp Cards tabled until sure things Made deals pay upfront Cold hard confidence Wannabe men drive sweet game Put all together Touch trumps tears takes no prison Uncaged roam space free Our place ancients planned Body mind spirit heart team Here earth *** soils worms Compost ground debris Bred sustenance seeds rich peat Brings about the end
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Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 2:26 AM UTC
Where Head Caravans?
Babylon Sisters one of them is blonde the other one a redhead but both are very fond of fine liquor and giving head their painted lips and coiffured hair finely dressed to the nines you can take them anywhere snorting coke and sipping wines they will spend your dough and let you touch them everywhere but upfront they will let you know it will cost to remove their underware they are ladies of the evening finest of the maidens fine not interested in a wedding ring just lustful *** time after time they remind one of times gone past ancient world of love and fun so beautiful and fast **** sisters of Babylon Gomer Lepoet...
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May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 6:50 PM UTC
Babylon Sisters
They kissed you with that mouth Wrote books about you Took pictures and hung them up for beer ads For humans with high testosterone to ogle While they ******* the top of a beer bottle Like it will bring their fathers acceptance Back into their eyes. Your nine inched heels gave me whip lash Your ½ inch eyelashes gave me heartburn Your spit Indigestion Because they kissed you with that mouth. And you still believe, You asked for it You still believed you were not worth getting out of the hood for The hood what good is the hood and the hood-rats You ******* ***** in alleyways All 10 of them lined up said I might as well have the money upfront If I'm gonna **** **** I'm getting paid for it They bashed your head into concrete so hard. You forgot how your mothers voice sounded like Almost forgot how your uncles knuckles tasted like, I don’t know your story I don’t know your name I don’t know you I just know that your friend And my friends Last night Came to the conclusion That you were a **** And you were asking for it You asked for your head to be bashed into concrete And hey maybe you did Maybe you wanted something to hit you hard enough to make you forget The hate inside The misogyny you swallow and wash down the drain maybe you were there in front of 10 guys because you wanted to know what power felt like what being wanted felt like because you thought you were worth the money but they didn't because maybe that's what you asked for because maybe your mother taught you to get high and surrender with glazed eyes rather then take your higheels off and fight because your laughter sounds more broken than you do because your eyes hold remnants of your skull because you remember the taste of your blood too keenly because my friends, my female friends who are not evil or sexist my male friends the protector of women came to an agreement you asked for it put yourself in the position to smell the inside of your brain because your blood meant power because finishing them off meant swallowing or bleeding and you did some of both because maybe you chose survival because maybe you came in kicking naked and maybe thats how you wanna go out with another mans hands down your throat some to aid air some to constrict weather you bleed or swallow you are only emptying out and I tried to explain that to your friend and my friends but there is so much anger about what happend to you and none of it is directed at the ten faceless penises. Because you were once a chandelier of candles And now you are a faceless light bulb hung on the moldy hotel building Because your **** gives you free crack and My friends have disgust on their faces And I feel Pity
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Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
They kissed you with that mouth
They kissed you with that mouth Wrote books about you Took pictures and hung them up for beer ads For humans with high testosterone to ogle While they ******* the top of a beer bottle Like it will bring their fathers acceptance Back into their eyes. Your nine inched heels gave me whip lash Your ½ inch eyelashes gave me heartburn Your spit Indigestion Because they kissed you with that mouth. And you still believe, You asked for it You still believed you were not worth getting out of the hood for The hood what good is the hood and the hood-rats You ******* ***** in alleyways All 10 of them lined up said I might as well have the money upfront If I'm gonna **** **** I'm getting paid for it They bashed your head into concrete so hard. You forgot how your mothers voice sounded like Almost forgot how your uncles knuckles tasted like, I don’t know your story I don’t know your name I don’t know you I just know that your friend And my friends Last night Came to the conclusion That you were a **** And you were asking for it You asked for your head to be bashed into concrete And hey maybe you did Maybe you wanted something to hit you hard enough to make you forget The hate inside The misogyny you swallow and wash down the drain maybe you were there in front of 10 guys because you wanted to know what power felt like what being wanted felt like because you thought you were worth the money but they didn't because maybe that's what you asked for because maybe your mother taught you to get high and surrender with glazed eyes rather then take your higheels off and fight because your laughter sounds more broken than you do because your eyes hold remnants of your skull because you remember the taste of your blood too keenly because my friends, my female friends who are not evil or sexist my male friends the protector of women came to an agreement you asked for it put yourself in the position to smell the inside of your brain because your blood meant power because finishing them off meant swallowing or bleeding and you did some of both because maybe you chose survival because maybe you came in kicking naked and maybe thats how you wanna go out with another mans hands down your throat some to aid air some to constrict weather you bleed or swallow you are only emptying out and I tried to explain that to your friend and my friends but there is so much anger about what happend to you and none of it is directed at the ten faceless penises. Because you were once a chandelier of candles And now you are a faceless light bulb hung on the moldy hotel building Because your **** gives you free crack and My friends have disgust on their faces And I feel Pity
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75
Upsized in elastic tugs Boxing gloves trembling in sweat A pace of haste, a stretch of jab Ahead a mob, resign the job The cheer as the pro smears In tears I resume with fear Body solid, the barefoot I bear Hands bare all ignited gears Endured as the rope snaps My lioness is lost in the ring Fire roars, an angered uproar Unable to face the opponent A body shot, a tummy stomp Mouth guard stumped,beg to stop Cheers rant upfront,the pain pause Three minutes cease, an earring drop
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Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 9:45 AM UTC
Frozen in a Boxing Ring
I'm sorry for when I called you an ******* Even though it was my fault and I was having a 'bad day'. I'm sorry I never responded to 5 that text. When you said I was a good kisser, but I think you too. I'm sorry I'm short because of hereditary. 10 Because it means you have to stoop, I to lean, for us to kiss. I'm sorry I'm not taller to see your green-hazel eyes. The eyes are the window to 15 the soul, but I don't have one. I'm sorry for playing guitar so badly. But no one has ever told me to stop, so I never did. 20 I'm sorry for not keeping tally on the McD vs. KFC fight. For the amounts of hits and misses, each response had back. I'm sorry for never saying upfront; 25 I love you. But you don't love me, because Who could? Not an angel like you. I'm sorry for not liking punk music all that much. 30 I want to understand, but 'Sixteen Candles' doesn't appeal. I'm sorry for not crying at TFIOS. Augustus was beautiful, Hazel too, 35 But cancer doesn't scare me. I'm sorry for not talking about your personal crisis. When all I feel I do is Talk about 'The Other' with you. 40 I'm sorry for being a narcissist. For being me. ME. ME! All the time, When you are so much more interesting. I'm sorry for being a 45 ***** For what I didn't mean to say, That might have made you cry. I'm sorry for being a misogynist. 50 And for hating men too. And for all I've ever said against the human race. I'm sorry for sighing so much. It's just I'm tired of 55 Everything I do. I'm done. I'm sorry for talking to you when you wanted to talk to friends. But being the gentleman you are, Didn't tell me to go away. 60 I'm sorry for wasting your time. When you could have being speaking, playing, dreaming, sleeping, living. I'm sorry for you knowing 65 me. And talking to me at all. Because I'm a spider, Slowly ******* the life out of you. I'm sorry for existing here. 70 Or just existing at all. I'm sorry for being sorry. Because I know you hate it when I 75 apologize for the things I say. I'm sorry for living at all. Because all I do is drain your optimism, And replace it with cynical thoughts. 80 I'm sorry for breathing. I'm sorry for writing this poem. I'm sorry that you know me. I'm sorry for it all.
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May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC
I'll say I'm sorry till I'm dead or just blue in the face.
I'm sorry for when I called you an ******* Even though it was my fault and I was having a 'bad day'. I'm sorry I never responded to 5 that text. When you said I was a good kisser, but I think you too. I'm sorry I'm short because of hereditary. 10 Because it means you have to stoop, I to lean, for us to kiss. I'm sorry I'm not taller to see your green-hazel eyes. The eyes are the window to 15 the soul, but I don't have one. I'm sorry for playing guitar so badly. But no one has ever told me to stop, so I never did. 20 I'm sorry for not keeping tally on the McD vs. KFC fight. For the amounts of hits and misses, each response had back. I'm sorry for never saying upfront; 25 I love you. But you don't love me, because Who could? Not an angel like you. I'm sorry for not liking punk music all that much. 30 I want to understand, but 'Sixteen Candles' doesn't appeal. I'm sorry for not crying at TFIOS. Augustus was beautiful, Hazel too, 35 But cancer doesn't scare me. I'm sorry for not talking about your personal crisis. When all I feel I do is Talk about 'The Other' with you. 40 I'm sorry for being a narcissist. For being me. ME. ME! All the time, When you are so much more interesting. I'm sorry for being a 45 ***** For what I didn't mean to say, That might have made you cry. I'm sorry for being a misogynist. 50 And for hating men too. And for all I've ever said against the human race. I'm sorry for sighing so much. It's just I'm tired of 55 Everything I do. I'm done. I'm sorry for talking to you when you wanted to talk to friends. But being the gentleman you are, Didn't tell me to go away. 60 I'm sorry for wasting your time. When you could have being speaking, playing, dreaming, sleeping, living. I'm sorry for you knowing 65 me. And talking to me at all. Because I'm a spider, Slowly ******* the life out of you. I'm sorry for existing here. 70 Or just existing at all. I'm sorry for being sorry. Because I know you hate it when I 75 apologize for the things I say. I'm sorry for living at all. Because all I do is drain your optimism, And replace it with cynical thoughts. 80 I'm sorry for breathing. I'm sorry for writing this poem. I'm sorry that you know me. I'm sorry for it all.
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84
Let me see beneath your perfection, and look behind your Sunday best. I want to see if you're super human or if you're more like the rest of us. I want to test your holier than thou, your upfront semblance of flawless. I want to check that you're all we see or if there's less beneath the surface. If you think you have no cracks or dents, if you have no room for improvement, I'd really like you to meet my friends - as we need a new source of amusement.
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Dec 10, 2018
Dec 10, 2018 at 4:06 AM UTC
Perfection
As the police arranged their shield You stood upfront and raised your fist. Your demand for humanitarian reforms was answered by beatings yet you resisted and struggled and clenched your fist and waived your flag as thousand marched across the streets. Stones trailed behind you. I'm glad you're not the type of woman who burn a life in the bar in apathy.
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Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 12:42 PM UTC
C. Camilla the Fierce
The murmur of the sly hours seize Panting the breath into violent grief, Love that disdains Leave anyone in despair. True link thus detests, All things in the world  disdains Other than dear ones loving heart. Love must ever be known for sincere That sincere love looks upon Mutual striving towards each other And the intensity of love looks upon Being upfront in and out With no taboos In sweet surrender. And the language of love looks upon The cravings to meet each other in the eyes,   Desperately seeking to tell the love And stare at each other until communicated And love be spoken as they meet And retreat in sweet dreams Like shining stars. Love is of the kind related to mind. Falling in love is such a wonderful feeling; It shines like a diamond Inside of the mind. When heart is broken, love is more cruel Than diamond particles slowly gaped in And times merriment forsaken. If love is not timely sought, Pain will never cease And pangs of death imminent. Love is not a gossamer in dew’d grass But a magic web of encircled kindness. Love is of the kind related to mind.
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Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC
Love and Despair
A lame boy; they say I be Low-pitched guy?; yee' that's me been a lame boy since I was three Dull and placid; unsatisfactory been a quiet boy; since I was born Psychopathic; and somewhat tough Sail your ship up-north; I go offshore A prodigal son;... left by his mum; at the age of four Sometime I'm cool; sometimes I'm warm Father wasn't sure; if I was sane or not Thought my abnormalities; equals 'dull So he left Up-North where he'd be bother-not Father's gone; mum's living rough Doing enough stuff to rid the boy off..... the black hole living in the boy's thought Cos' everyone gets lost; crossing the boy's port Afterward; I was left in this dungeon Life raised me to this lame strong boy A lame boy; raised by rain of dirt All he's ever taste was the opposite of joy This lame boy will soon find joy I'm lame for sure; but my feet are strong My mind find words when my hands are bored My heart finds love when my head's at fault When you bring me stress; I'm turning blind Cos' this lame boy seems to find Peace in the loneliness of his mind Seeing the path ahead and behind This lame boy is ****** enshrined Prodigal and divine; a boy you can't confine Cos' money or ******* doesn't define his mentality and the way he grind I'm that lame boy; that you hiss and judge For my writability and use of words While you nuisance spew sh*t and sort I do my lame stuff; Yea; I sit and jot... And then I pour.....; my state of mind; in a distinctive thought Well; I'm a lame boy; I only look upfront I don't care if my root; is clean or not Don't mind if my boot is filled with mud Only focus on my dreams and things I sought I'm a lame boy; I've seen the sea and shore Crawled this earth from south to North Been in this world before 94 Before Abacha ruin the course; of this Nation more Lame boy this; lame boy that 'Lame boy 's shit'; 'lame boy 's bad' "He's lame and dull; he can't attack" "too rough and poor; he's not my type" Well; this lame boy doesn't care 'bout Words from your lilly-filthy mouth Cos' this lame boy is now an OG; yes! An Original Gent; who is God-blessed
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Jun 9, 2021
Jun 9, 2021 at 2:04 PM UTC
LAME BOY
A lame boy; they say I be Low-pitched guy?; yee' that's me been a lame boy since I was three Dull and placid; unsatisfactory been a quiet boy; since I was born Psychopathic; and somewhat tough Sail your ship up-north; I go offshore A prodigal son;... left by his mum; at the age of four Sometime I'm cool; sometimes I'm warm Father wasn't sure; if I was sane or not Thought my abnormalities; equals 'dull So he left Up-North where he'd be bother-not Father's gone; mum's living rough Doing enough stuff to rid the boy off..... the black hole living in the boy's thought Cos' everyone gets lost; crossing the boy's port Afterward; I was left in this dungeon Life raised me to this lame strong boy A lame boy; raised by rain of dirt All he's ever taste was the opposite of joy This lame boy will soon find joy I'm lame for sure; but my feet are strong My mind find words when my hands are bored My heart finds love when my head's at fault When you bring me stress; I'm turning blind Cos' this lame boy seems to find Peace in the loneliness of his mind Seeing the path ahead and behind This lame boy is ****** enshrined Prodigal and divine; a boy you can't confine Cos' money or ******* doesn't define his mentality and the way he grind I'm that lame boy; that you hiss and judge For my writability and use of words While you nuisance spew sh*t and sort I do my lame stuff; Yea; I sit and jot... And then I pour.....; my state of mind; in a distinctive thought Well; I'm a lame boy; I only look upfront I don't care if my root; is clean or not Don't mind if my boot is filled with mud Only focus on my dreams and things I sought I'm a lame boy; I've seen the sea and shore Crawled this earth from south to North Been in this world before 94 Before Abacha ruin the course; of this Nation more Lame boy this; lame boy that 'Lame boy 's shit'; 'lame boy 's bad' "He's lame and dull; he can't attack" "too rough and poor; he's not my type" Well; this lame boy doesn't care 'bout Words from your lilly-filthy mouth Cos' this lame boy is now an OG; yes! An Original Gent; who is God-blessed
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54
Even the walls have their ears, Although they are nonliving, ****** cries were overheard, Easily by the walls themselves, **** sounds of ********** Deflowering the young wife, Roping in spies for the purpose, Opening the ***** so delicate, People so enjoy overhearing, Pretty sights shine right upfront, In their addiction to **** time, No secrets remain virtuously, Good habits are hard to develop.
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May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 9:49 PM UTC
Blame It On The Walls