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"vehemently" poems
I wrote this for you a long time ago on a coffee stained napkin, after you left me, full of love, lingering in a cafe. "For you, in all your follies and faults and the way they make you so perfect for me. For you, in the moments that linger in the vehemently insignificant corners and corridors of things, as if drifted of their own grandure. For you, for the words that spill to the floor and the brilliant way you understand the deafening silence that follows. For you, for your supernovas and clever shades, for your daylight smiles and nighttime skins. For you, for your familiarity and the impossible truths that stand as martyrs to say that I have loved you before. For you, despite the treachery and quiet sinister fun of the world. For you, for making me so terribly scared of dying." Yet here I am, in your wake, so full of so many thoughts and demons. Know that I have died, that I have loved and lost with equal measure.
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Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
For you.
Suffering stirs up the soul In agony, there are new realizations Right in the middle, starts a chaotic vortex Draining up all the energy, leaving the body numb The mind is aware, yet it can’t control the situation Getting more and more ****** into the commotion The uneasiness unsettles the whole constitution Shaking the belief for some time, yet, takes a heavy toll Suffering gives a new awakening, to life’s adversities Sometimes, we have to silently and vehemently fight Like a lone fighter, up against, so many enemies The mind as a weapon, is all you have Sharpen it and keep it agile, as it’s the only weapon To fight the sufferings, that gets hold of you
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Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 10:15 AM UTC
Suffering
She placed the spinning world gently at her feet Reached inside the burning core Said aloud to herself not caring who was listening I cannot take this spinning anymore This old world is changing a bit too fast for me Perhaps I can slow her down a bit She held on tightly with her little hands Yet round and round it went Despairing not and vehemently determined She quickly tightened up her grip But that old world kept spinning round and round While her little hands began to slip Realization slowly dawned on her as she lost her grip Felt that old world slipping away We can control some things in our lives However, we cannot always have our way
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Sep 7, 2010
Sep 7, 2010 at 5:32 PM UTC
Stop the Spinning
I had a gf that used to get called a feminazi, but no one ever called me a feminanarchist; I think what we really were is Feminihilists. FFP opposed *********** defined as the sexualized degradation, ********** humiliation, objectification, subjugation, violation,       psychological annihilation, exploitation,  & violence against women as distinguished from erotica based on the mutuality       of power and pleasure. According to FFP's pioneering founder Page Mellish, *********** provides the training for ****** assault & **** results in the objectification of women; affects women's ability to get equal rights & equal pay, & encourages men to associate *** with violence;  Page ultimately claimed that _all_ feminist issues | [    ,      ], [          ] are rooted in *********** &   in a 1986 letter to the editor of The Wall Street Journal, she asserted that FFP is "not against love & not against *** Page held that all men or women who did not fight against *********** were accountable for the violence against women, claiming that women who enjoy *********** or rough *** had internalized the male [gaze] & | male definitions of power Page's positions on *********** have been debated outside FFP, including with respect to porn's agency on crime & feminist & gay definitions of **** Legislation alone was not a solution, according to Page; it was also necessary to remove _"the need for **** vehemently anti-censorship & pro-sex, Page taught me to show everything from all sides; my other feminista professors were pro-monogamy [patriarchy] while Page was a combat boot wearing girly-girl; she had these cute little doe-eyed Q's following her around carrying the placards [        ] for her spontaneous demonstrations against underwear
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Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 5:54 AM UTC
ode on page, feminist & mentor
I had a gf that used to get called a feminazi, but no one ever called me a feminanarchist; I think what we really were is Feminihilists. FFP opposed *********** defined as the sexualized degradation, ********** humiliation, objectification, subjugation, violation,       psychological annihilation, exploitation,  & violence against women as distinguished from erotica based on the mutuality       of power and pleasure. According to FFP's pioneering founder Page Mellish, *********** provides the training for ****** assault & **** results in the objectification of women; affects women's ability to get equal rights & equal pay, & encourages men to associate *** with violence;  Page ultimately claimed that _all_ feminist issues | [    ,      ], [          ] are rooted in *********** &   in a 1986 letter to the editor of The Wall Street Journal, she asserted that FFP is "not against love & not against *** Page held that all men or women who did not fight against *********** were accountable for the violence against women, claiming that women who enjoy *********** or rough *** had internalized the male [gaze] & | male definitions of power Page's positions on *********** have been debated outside FFP, including with respect to porn's agency on crime & feminist & gay definitions of **** Legislation alone was not a solution, according to Page; it was also necessary to remove _"the need for **** vehemently anti-censorship & pro-sex, Page taught me to show everything from all sides; my other feminista professors were pro-monogamy [patriarchy] while Page was a combat boot wearing girly-girl; she had these cute little doe-eyed Q's following her around carrying the placards [        ] for her spontaneous demonstrations against underwear
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42
Despicability is the foundation to their life For them it is intrinsic Genetically encoded Simplistic Poetically eroded Reprehensible at best      **Unscrupulously callous      Secrets and facts, they conveniently      ingest      Distorted byproducts, they release to the      masses      To aid their campaign; a forked tongue      fest** Pathetic and unapologetic A beast armed to the teeth Imported bypasses to increase the flow of police A weakness and an act, They so vehemently attest      **Harvesting greens off the branches of      the people      Pockets engorged with wads and folds      Crushing blue collars at the lower levels      As they sit atop their pyramids of gold** Today they sip champagne To celebrate their reign Tonight we'll skip being humane To feed them excruciating pain      **You've incited this coup with ill-thought      deterrents      Now herald the arrival of the scourge      Down with lopsided governments      Tonight... All we would topple! Tonight we purge!** Justin G ryn**
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Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
Tonight We Purge! (Featuring ryn)
hill                                                  ant hill                                           an ant hill                                       a perfect ant hill                                  a perfect ant hill it was                                a perfect anthill erected                         a perfect ant hill erected at will            by ants and ants and army of disciplined ants.      ants of many kinds, sizes and colors erected an ant hill the design was grand, nice to look at like a cathedral,functional. we love the ants for being so versatile,co-operative and creative Do ants possess minds, ability to think,organize, put decisions in to actions?Or do they just have an instinct,prompted by nature, how do they receive it?Even if we are yet to find out such secrets,many of us are skeptics."All this is like the crawling leaches, inscribing  letters on smooth surfaces, inadvertently" they vehemently argue.And there remains the million dollar question,seeking answer:even tiny ants,could make millions of their ilk do amazing things, why oh! why, the most intelligent of living things, at least replicate the feats the community of ants, at a scale, proportionate ?If these disciplined insects, in spite of their small brains could be a great example, why can't human's be like them, behave more responsibly , take charge of their own destiny, construct, not destroy. Every ant hill in silence, asks us many questions,  we walk past pretending that we heard nothing, that could disturb our peace.
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Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 8:31 AM UTC
Listen to what the anthill whispers
hill                                                  ant hill                                           an ant hill                                       a perfect ant hill                                  a perfect ant hill it was                                a perfect anthill erected                         a perfect ant hill erected at will            by ants and ants and army of disciplined ants.      ants of many kinds, sizes and colors erected an ant hill the design was grand, nice to look at like a cathedral,functional. we love the ants for being so versatile,co-operative and creative Do ants possess minds, ability to think,organize, put decisions in to actions?Or do they just have an instinct,prompted by nature, how do they receive it?Even if we are yet to find out such secrets,many of us are skeptics."All this is like the crawling leaches, inscribing  letters on smooth surfaces, inadvertently" they vehemently argue.And there remains the million dollar question,seeking answer:even tiny ants,could make millions of their ilk do amazing things, why oh! why, the most intelligent of living things, at least replicate the feats the community of ants, at a scale, proportionate ?If these disciplined insects, in spite of their small brains could be a great example, why can't human's be like them, behave more responsibly , take charge of their own destiny, construct, not destroy. Every ant hill in silence, asks us many questions,  we walk past pretending that we heard nothing, that could disturb our peace.
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12
From everyone you talk to you say you want the truth yet when I demand it from you you vehemently refuse. Does the rule only apply to others but not to you? If so, why bother imposing if you don’t follow it too? How can there be order if this is what you do? If anything, it’s insane! That, can’t you deduce? If you really value truth then you must be, yourself, practising such honesty in every story you tell.
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 11:34 PM UTC
Double Standard
I love love, I love hate, I love love before it's love, I love love after it dies I love sunny days, I love rainy days, I love overcast , and I love the snow I love walking, I love breathing, I love listening I love speaking I love interactions with factions upon factions and I truly love being alone I love the rich, I love the poor, I love Liberals and Conservatives I love they got meanings of the terms twisted and preach so vehemently about the superiority of their ideology I love those who speak logically, I love those who listen, I love words that were written to be spoken, and those that were just to be written I love racists, I love blacks, I love whites, and every ethnicity with any pigmentation that falls between them or against them I love all cultures equally, And I love cultures that hold themselves to a higher esteem than other cultures I love Cops and I love Criminals, I love Order and alcoholics and crack addicts who just keep gettin back at it with bare minimals I love Devote Christians, I love Krampus, I love Christmas, I love Baphomets, I love Marvin Gaye, I love The Doors Greatest Hit list I love Batman, I love the Joker, I love marijuana, and both those who are and are not avid smokers I love the freedoms I enjoy everyday and I love that men are systematically taught to hate me on a spiritual level with such passion that they would strap a bomb to their chest just to end my existence I love the Persistence,  Of time, Life, Movement, The Cosmos, and I love that it keeps on existing so fluently that we feel almost lucidly that our existence is significant =) I love the inquisitive look in the eyes of babies asking questions without the means to ask questions that, in due time, will only be answered by questions and answers that evoke much larger questions. And I love both those questions and the appropriate answers. I love those with and without an appreciation for the nonsensical I love you
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Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 7:22 PM UTC
How to Love Life
I love love, I love hate, I love love before it's love, I love love after it dies I love sunny days, I love rainy days, I love overcast , and I love the snow I love walking, I love breathing, I love listening I love speaking I love interactions with factions upon factions and I truly love being alone I love the rich, I love the poor, I love Liberals and Conservatives I love they got meanings of the terms twisted and preach so vehemently about the superiority of their ideology I love those who speak logically, I love those who listen, I love words that were written to be spoken, and those that were just to be written I love racists, I love blacks, I love whites, and every ethnicity with any pigmentation that falls between them or against them I love all cultures equally, And I love cultures that hold themselves to a higher esteem than other cultures I love Cops and I love Criminals, I love Order and alcoholics and crack addicts who just keep gettin back at it with bare minimals I love Devote Christians, I love Krampus, I love Christmas, I love Baphomets, I love Marvin Gaye, I love The Doors Greatest Hit list I love Batman, I love the Joker, I love marijuana, and both those who are and are not avid smokers I love the freedoms I enjoy everyday and I love that men are systematically taught to hate me on a spiritual level with such passion that they would strap a bomb to their chest just to end my existence I love the Persistence,  Of time, Life, Movement, The Cosmos, and I love that it keeps on existing so fluently that we feel almost lucidly that our existence is significant =) I love the inquisitive look in the eyes of babies asking questions without the means to ask questions that, in due time, will only be answered by questions and answers that evoke much larger questions. And I love both those questions and the appropriate answers. I love those with and without an appreciation for the nonsensical I love you
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20
I had to love her, I had no choice. It is her name after all Amanda, the fourth principal part Of Amo, Amare, Amavi, Amatus Formed into the perfect passive participle She will be loved I had no control over anything when it came to her That is quite clear It was fate telling me I had to do this It was fate nagging me to believe in something Something that is a stronger force than my will I fought fate vehemently But fate, as it always does, won And I fell in love Only to find that the woman who will be loved Could not love
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May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 8:57 PM UTC
Amanda
In the midst of sea, we scream Where are humans? Where are super humans? None to respond to our desperate scream, In the midst of a sea, we are A deserted island One that can most likely be submerged or Reach shores unlikely By the events, we remain helpless Being human less and with inhumanness We, at the brink of death & last inch of hope Expect miracles and wonders Nature fails us Kills our expectations, fills more sorrow Nature fills our body with Slow approaching death, We remain as a secluded mass of useless disposed waste, On a world that has a place for all the flora & fauna Modern nations-the epitomes of peace Wash their hands away remain A hopeless, useless, helpless puppet Ostracized from our ancestral land Vehemently opposed and reluctantly accepted We remain a displaced alien In their eyes. There are nations, But where are humans? Where are humans? A hope puts us to survive, Where we leave a message, As we get back to the graves. We send the waves of final message; we fall, Not as a disposed waste, But as a Phoenix that falls as a nutrition, For the soil, To revive an infinite and eternal humanity That stands tall as an undestroyable banyan tree Unshakable on any crises For humanity, we give ourselves As dare-doers and daring self-killers. Let's harvest the human hearts With the ever rising flames And give back Our future generations the homes. We lost and dreams we wished With a thin ray of distant hope, We dream to give our future generations A world that has no, Hopelessness of being helpless. We assert We are helpless, but not hopeless
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Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 1:17 AM UTC
Unheard and Unfaded voice of a disappearing island
In the midst of sea, we scream Where are humans? Where are super humans? None to respond to our desperate scream, In the midst of a sea, we are A deserted island One that can most likely be submerged or Reach shores unlikely By the events, we remain helpless Being human less and with inhumanness We, at the brink of death & last inch of hope Expect miracles and wonders Nature fails us Kills our expectations, fills more sorrow Nature fills our body with Slow approaching death, We remain as a secluded mass of useless disposed waste, On a world that has a place for all the flora & fauna Modern nations-the epitomes of peace Wash their hands away remain A hopeless, useless, helpless puppet Ostracized from our ancestral land Vehemently opposed and reluctantly accepted We remain a displaced alien In their eyes. There are nations, But where are humans? Where are humans? A hope puts us to survive, Where we leave a message, As we get back to the graves. We send the waves of final message; we fall, Not as a disposed waste, But as a Phoenix that falls as a nutrition, For the soil, To revive an infinite and eternal humanity That stands tall as an undestroyable banyan tree Unshakable on any crises For humanity, we give ourselves As dare-doers and daring self-killers. Let's harvest the human hearts With the ever rising flames And give back Our future generations the homes. We lost and dreams we wished With a thin ray of distant hope, We dream to give our future generations A world that has no, Hopelessness of being helpless. We assert We are helpless, but not hopeless
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50
I was abused literally and pushed aside by teacher He was in rage to see me when I tried to enter He might have some grievances in mind to nurture As I was doing fare in studies and position was assured I was really ashy boy but excellent in pick up I heard attentively and was cheered with thumb up His behavior as teacher made great impact in mind I might have taken it lightly if he was harsh or unkind It is customary to show little disrespect to the poor students Some of the discourtesy is extended with inferior comments I was unable to think further but bore a grudge permanently I remember those abusive remarks and resisted him once vehemently I thought and rethought about such behavior As teacher he would have been considerate and held honor I became reserved from that day and decided to keep silent As it was now known to me that best way is to offer no comment In social circle too certain disliking exist for people It may be more intensive when they are incapable Not in financial capacity to move forward and compete Live under their dominance and agree to submit I remained firm in approach but turned away from close contacts I kept good will at heart and prayed for their well being in fact This gave me enough of strength to observe them from distance I was taken little note of and none observed my presence I return gesture with kind words and remain aloof I have enough of strength financially as single proof They dare not to see me with inferiority and pull down As I have established of my own and became powerfully known I wish that same kind of maltreatment is not shown To children who are unfortunate of having means of their own They are really asset to us and builder of future generation How can we be indifferent when question of building nation comes? I have known some of the people getting blinded By sudden arrival of fortune and secretly confided Their common sense gets unnatural boost to reveal The arrogance is reflected and shown with no efforts to conceal
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Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 7:48 AM UTC
Abide by teacher
I was abused literally and pushed aside by teacher He was in rage to see me when I tried to enter He might have some grievances in mind to nurture As I was doing fare in studies and position was assured I was really ashy boy but excellent in pick up I heard attentively and was cheered with thumb up His behavior as teacher made great impact in mind I might have taken it lightly if he was harsh or unkind It is customary to show little disrespect to the poor students Some of the discourtesy is extended with inferior comments I was unable to think further but bore a grudge permanently I remember those abusive remarks and resisted him once vehemently I thought and rethought about such behavior As teacher he would have been considerate and held honor I became reserved from that day and decided to keep silent As it was now known to me that best way is to offer no comment In social circle too certain disliking exist for people It may be more intensive when they are incapable Not in financial capacity to move forward and compete Live under their dominance and agree to submit I remained firm in approach but turned away from close contacts I kept good will at heart and prayed for their well being in fact This gave me enough of strength to observe them from distance I was taken little note of and none observed my presence I return gesture with kind words and remain aloof I have enough of strength financially as single proof They dare not to see me with inferiority and pull down As I have established of my own and became powerfully known I wish that same kind of maltreatment is not shown To children who are unfortunate of having means of their own They are really asset to us and builder of future generation How can we be indifferent when question of building nation comes? I have known some of the people getting blinded By sudden arrival of fortune and secretly confided Their common sense gets unnatural boost to reveal The arrogance is reflected and shown with no efforts to conceal
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36
I watch the blanket breathe, hope it will never stop. white, cellular, keeping warm, the one I love, so vehemently. scares me, this intensity of feeling, that never stops, and continues when the blanket lays quiet…… sbm.
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Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 1:52 AM UTC
:: old blanket ::
Ones and Zeros In the online digital world Every boy and every girl Are villains and heroes Who knows which? Son a of a *****   The truth is lies Wrapped up in disguise We want to believe Electronic love we receive Is not there to deceive The flirting The sexting The online molexting **** pic rejecting   Encrypted ascii code Sent through internet nodes Wireless whispers transmitted Thoughts of endearment committed Fact are conveniently omitted Lies are ruthlessly submitted   Straight jacket Packet hackers Hijacking a loving heart Holding it ransom is their art Scourge of the community Harassing Surpassing Any level of dignity   Players and haters And the masturbators The downright crazies Acting like timid daisies The cheaters Defeaters And quite possibly Wife beaters   The losers The boozers Mentally abusers The popular sexter Who may not be a her Quite possibly a guy But will vehemently deny   The whiner Data miner The ********* seeking minor The scammer The Christian Damner Super **** grammar All thrown in together With the digital picture collector   And still we’re looking all around For love to be found In a world of made believe That anonymously deceives We are ones seeking zeroes Running into villains dressed up as heroes   Hearts shredded and deleted Retreating and defeated Yet somehow we try again Hoping for something less than pain We are all a little bit insane Playing the online dating game One’s and Zero’s
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Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 7:15 AM UTC
ONES AND ZEROS
He speaks; like his casting a spell Bind my flesh, stun my mind An everlasting sensation that will consume - eats me Truly captivated by a stranger a mystery that I will gladly sought For I vehemently am enchanted
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
Enchanted
I am not your peppermint fudge. I will split you in t/wo. I will vehemently hate not but one, but every single second of you. And i will cry, boy, i will cry, over how i let myself be treated, by you. And what are you, as you spray your words across my face and into my hair, who are you to even dare? I am not your morning afterglow, I will divide your morals thrice/ly. I will take your hate and i will console you with pity, I will be pretty, boy, i will be pretty. And who are you, to make life such a toy and play love as it t'was a game, i look at you with embarrassment and shame. I am not your cup of evening tea. I will drive you a/part. I will look at you a different way, now, I will take a bow, boy, i will take a bow. And you are you, and i am sad for the man you seemed to become, run home and fetch your steak and your gun. I am sacrilegiously, done.
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Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 7:31 PM UTC
A man, a Gun and a Steak
Cherry blossom lips burned into his eyes Words Letters And anger Formed sounds that echoed so vehemently This is real rage Rage that even the bitter darkest clouds could Only ever dream to be Awash me my boiling blood Feed me my need Show me your scared For I will lower my head and let the raging go on But for what does it serve A passion for love A wanting for more Care True spirit Yet I am the wrong Words should not be of pain They should be of hope Encouraged in glory Wrapped in a heart of fragility Shamed in my soul I write in shivers Puddles of sadness at my side These eyes now empty and red And I am sorry
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Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 12:36 AM UTC
Sorry
Melancholic pale moon, lovelorn shy ****** kept on peeping from her corner of the sky, through the window we left deliberately open knowing her curiosity, as detained ever, to be solitary. Let her find out that we both didn't sleep or remain quiet , not a moment, all night, as the night sky responded vehemently in celestial pyrotechnics to our delighted squeals.
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Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 10:45 AM UTC
Lovers' cruelty
My father used to sing this ditty for us: "Columbus sailed the ocean blue in 14 hundred 92 He sailed as far as Chicopee Falls ...and there he left his overalls" When my teacher asked where Columbus landed, I knew exactly where! Out of my seat, hand waving in the air... "Oooo ooo me! I know!" "Yes, Liz..." "Chicopee Falls!!" ...and I argued the accuracy, VEHEMENTLY. At least Chicopee was a genuine Native Algonquin word, meaning violent waters. Thanks Dad!
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Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 11:02 PM UTC
A Little Ditty for Columbus Day
It is a fallacy we all believe. As we vehemently exclaim six words to prove the chastity of our thoughts, to fill our pride with self-validation, to ratify our existence with falsehoods. "The Devil made me do it!" "The Devil made me do it!" I bitterly laugh at your blundering gaucherie, as you lay blame on an eons old transgression, as you smote the sinnerman flying with flames, as you called him out for your own actions impassioned by heresy. Impassioned by heresy You sought to relieve yourself from perdition; brought upon by perjury declared, brought upon by authenticated truths, brought upon by the duplicity, of your favored reverent ideologies. Of your favored reverent ideologies which is to laud your skirmish against evil in order to remove yourself from auburn eternity, in order to induct you as a citizen of argent fields, in order to orchestrate contempt towards another? Is there no truth to you? Is there no truth to you now that perfidy imputes your entirety? as you declaim in front of paradise lost, as you coerce to regain what is rightfully deprived, as you throng duress by intoning your delusion: "The Devil made me do it!" "The Devil made me do it!" Its recurrence is maddening to Him while you, in all your sentience, chose to act unbecoming, while the celestials perched on your shoulder bawl, while He that you blame does absolutely nothing. It is a fallacy we all believe.
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Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 10:54 AM UTC
Martyr
Love Needs Nurture. Even a flower Needs a drop Of sentiment. Without care It shall Eventually wilt. The smallest flame Is nothing Without a breeze. Gone is the flicker. End of a life, In one foul blow. Pop my bubble, Steal my air. When I am gone I shall not care. Love needs nurture. First; Can we be friends? Second; Yes, of course. As soon as my love is dead, I will give you a call. We can do coffee, One day. Talk vehemently. About anything. Probably, even smile, As we lie to each other About not feeling Anything at all. It takes time To **** the truth. There are no skipping stones, Or shortcuts From the pain. Give love time, please, To truly wither And die. Become nothing Dry, bitter A mutual shame. Then the putrid ash Of a love denied, Falls wasted Crushed, too sodden To ever fly. Some time later We say hello. I shed a tear And force a smile- The only way Was to say goodbye. (Gerry Aldridge ©2017)
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May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 2:34 PM UTC
Love Needs Nurture.
Her chariot glimmering off feint blue dust. Lighting up dwarfish torches in the night sky. Selene rests above in her crescendo; shrouded by a gentle spectral shawl. She watches me, as my weary back relaxes on a lonesome headstone. They keep me company. Selene, a silver flask, and my revolver. "What could I have done to change this fate?" Selene remained quiet, and stared back at me. "What is life's essence?" In which, still, she replied with silence. The bitter winter zephyr rustles against my flowing locks. She smiles at me. She's beaming. She basks me with her radiant presence. "How did you get up there?" Her eyebrows arched at me. "How did you folks become haughty and powerful?" In which, still, she replied with silence. The gentle winds turns into a roaring behemoth. Vehemently howling amidst pine trees which surrounds me. I took the last sip of bourbon from the ol' tin. "How could man swim against Chronos' current? How could man muster strength against the Fates?" For the nth time, she replied with silence. The frigid muzzle nips my forehead. Sweat trickles down my temples. I could hear my own heart drumming. My hands are shaking--- almost vibrating. My breath releases sullen spirits from this broken vessel. Before I closed my eyes, Selene gleamed at me, before hiding behind her faint shroud. I bowed down, said my final prayers, and concentrated on my friend's farewell kiss. "So, long, Selene. When, I, wake, up, I, wish, I, would, reek, of, sunflowers." --- --- ---.
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Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 12:13 AM UTC
Silence
Her chariot glimmering off feint blue dust. Lighting up dwarfish torches in the night sky. Selene rests above in her crescendo; shrouded by a gentle spectral shawl. She watches me, as my weary back relaxes on a lonesome headstone. They keep me company. Selene, a silver flask, and my revolver. "What could I have done to change this fate?" Selene remained quiet, and stared back at me. "What is life's essence?" In which, still, she replied with silence. The bitter winter zephyr rustles against my flowing locks. She smiles at me. She's beaming. She basks me with her radiant presence. "How did you get up there?" Her eyebrows arched at me. "How did you folks become haughty and powerful?" In which, still, she replied with silence. The gentle winds turns into a roaring behemoth. Vehemently howling amidst pine trees which surrounds me. I took the last sip of bourbon from the ol' tin. "How could man swim against Chronos' current? How could man muster strength against the Fates?" For the nth time, she replied with silence. The frigid muzzle nips my forehead. Sweat trickles down my temples. I could hear my own heart drumming. My hands are shaking--- almost vibrating. My breath releases sullen spirits from this broken vessel. Before I closed my eyes, Selene gleamed at me, before hiding behind her faint shroud. I bowed down, said my final prayers, and concentrated on my friend's farewell kiss. "So, long, Selene. When, I, wake, up, I, wish, I, would, reek, of, sunflowers." --- --- ---.
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93
Mass appeal is mistaken for quality. Communication makes a poor commodity. TV shows you how to be and what to think. This normalization is enforced vulgarity; in the common, Value is lost in translation. For a slave, meaning comes from authority; guidelines from following superstition; truth from the politicization of science; acceptance from the surrender of identity; morality the mortar that coheres the chains. Beware accolades, whether peer or stranger. A tempting gratification yields mediocrity alone, self-indulgent narcissism too shallow to measure; for in the end, it is always so that the unremarkable is celebrated most vehemently by the unremarkable.
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Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
Unremarkable
It has kindled all by the force of its immeasurable depth Leaving friendly feet lathered with foam Never losing a single breath On the sandy beaches Where it roams You can hear it speak in the sound of crashing joy A thousand thoughts rushing your way Endurance so alive and beautiful In an accent understood As displayed A voice, which woos winged creatures to dip and dive Bravely leave their mother’s side Traces of murmurs of harm All leave their hearts As they glide What wonderful treasures lie beneath this force I see All those secrets vehemently call out to be heard Time stands still in my fast running day As I am charmed by this voice Crashing out to me I thrill at the hope of time never passing away again To always, behold these sights and sounds My friendly feet lathered in the foam Of this immeasurable force I have found
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Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 9:43 AM UTC
Immeasurable Force