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"verified" poems
Challenges and competition notified. Every step codified. Tears and sweat pacified. Achievements and advancement glorified. Regression and depression terrified. Muscles and struggle verified. Foes and conspirators mortified. Plans of progress and purpose sanctified. Grace and the Goodness of God testified. Sweet pleasures of life. Trials, Torment and Torture. Eulogies and Elegies of visible characters. Promising and decisive. No conflicts, No dilemma.
0
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 1:48 AM UTC
HARD WORK
In The Prison Of Winter, No Rise, No Set orbit nearly closed, the radio announcer gleefully chirruping, the twittering fool, "only ** graves to X off till                                                spring" the weight of the prior the wait of the more no matter how little yet to come                     too much insufferable having suffered multiple life sentences you snit **** u don't know better, ha, they don't even run                                          concurrently there are no sunsets in the girding grays of harsher enough and words that fail me, are the winners in the winter of the **** tests and hunts, I have successfully                                  failed of course I'm wrong you petulant hobgoblin wringing nyet from me you'll get no concession, **** science, there are no sunsets in the winter and the sunrises, short unsweetened, light-less, less of less, frigid glaring revealers of dead trees and deader                     men maybe in the Rockies, perhaps the Alps, wonderlands photoshopped, pretty lies on the Internet BS posted where I live, wear the wear the weary neath the sweat stink of layers of unbundled choking hands, winter's damage assessed and assessment is never overdue, payable in                                              immediacy heating bills I can't pay, a job that said no more of you, unpretty please, a woman who sorcerer-scarced herself right freaking black magic quick, trust me I have certified verified, me and Nixon, X's on the kitchen calendar, there is daylight, there is mighty night, almighty in long and colorless and nothing in between, but the smog stained slush of                                                     smothered life but definitely no sunrises and no sunsets watched all day from the imprisoning kitchen window which doubles as a **** you                        mirror there are no, not any, you know what, cannot even say them, the pipe dreams of better yet, pipes that have beaten down me and my disassociated senses, signed sealed and now delivered, from the formerly known as The Summer Man
0
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 9:39 AM UTC
In the Prison of Winter, No Rise, No Set
In The Prison Of Winter, No Rise, No Set orbit nearly closed, the radio announcer gleefully chirruping, the twittering fool, "only ** graves to X off till                                                spring" the weight of the prior the wait of the more no matter how little yet to come                     too much insufferable having suffered multiple life sentences you snit **** u don't know better, ha, they don't even run                                          concurrently there are no sunsets in the girding grays of harsher enough and words that fail me, are the winners in the winter of the **** tests and hunts, I have successfully                                  failed of course I'm wrong you petulant hobgoblin wringing nyet from me you'll get no concession, **** science, there are no sunsets in the winter and the sunrises, short unsweetened, light-less, less of less, frigid glaring revealers of dead trees and deader                     men maybe in the Rockies, perhaps the Alps, wonderlands photoshopped, pretty lies on the Internet BS posted where I live, wear the wear the weary neath the sweat stink of layers of unbundled choking hands, winter's damage assessed and assessment is never overdue, payable in                                              immediacy heating bills I can't pay, a job that said no more of you, unpretty please, a woman who sorcerer-scarced herself right freaking black magic quick, trust me I have certified verified, me and Nixon, X's on the kitchen calendar, there is daylight, there is mighty night, almighty in long and colorless and nothing in between, but the smog stained slush of                                                     smothered life but definitely no sunrises and no sunsets watched all day from the imprisoning kitchen window which doubles as a **** you                        mirror there are no, not any, you know what, cannot even say them, the pipe dreams of better yet, pipes that have beaten down me and my disassociated senses, signed sealed and now delivered, from the formerly known as The Summer Man
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78
And the fish swim in the lake and do not even own clothing. – Ezra Pound How would they style themselves for the net, the little fishes of the lake? Not robes of purity, Ezra, but sequins cut from trash, brands bright as lures, fashioned to catch the eye, a glint of sun. Would the big ones strap on knockoff fins to flex in shark cosplay near the shore, snapping reels in the reeds, captioned #greatwhitevibes #apexpredator? Would carp veil themselves in algae, funeral couture, posting stories of their grief in green? Would they admire the fishery tags: industrial piercings they can’t remove, or the hook-slit scars from catch-and-release, each one a verified badge, proof they were trending once, briefly, before sinking out of frame? Would they tilt to the water’s glass, checking which gill looks slimmer, tails arched like influencers at golden hour, the shimmer hiding shame, the shame we taught them to wear?
0
Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 2:34 PM UTC
Ezra Pound Blocks Me
Welcome to the con! The con starts with the author, Dr. Seuss. He's no doctor.  And that's a fact (and no it's not the only truthful thing in this diatribe of mine).  He used the doctor moniker to sell more books!        That guy in the book pestering the other guy to try "Green Eggs and Ham"? Turns out to be the ham and egg salesman, Sam I Am.   It's a motivational selling "won't take no for an answer" how to sell book disguised as children's literature.     And Sam I Am is psychotically relentless in his pursuit of a sale.  He needs a restraining order slapped on his ***                    "Would you eat them in a box? Would                     you eat them with a fox. Would you eat                     them with a goat.  Would you eat them on a                      boat".  Would you eat green eggs and ham,                     would you eat them Sam I Am?                                                                         Dr. Seuss And on and on. Sam I Am goes stalking him from page to page.        I had a friend of mine, Mustard Joe, ex war veteran with more than twenty kills (you don't even want to know the things he's seen) take a look into this green eggs and ham food source that Sam I Am is pushing so hard.  Here are some of the ingredients he may or may not have found.                                 Ham   --        30 grams of sugar (questionable )                          --       15 grams of caffeine (untested)                                Green eggs   --          Trace amounts of nicotine ( not verified)                         --          Handfuls of ******* (rumored) As you can see, It's not an exact science. People. When eggs turn green, that's mother nature trying to warn you that your food has gone bad.    But in the end, Sam I Am gets the fool to finally try the green eggs and ham and he absolutely loves it.  Maybe the books lesson   is about to not be afraid about things you don't understand or never tried. But I still believe there is insidious deception and evil in the book. I have to think that way.  Because after all -- I'm Willoughby !!
0
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 12:12 PM UTC
The Truth about the Book "Green Eggs and Ham".
Welcome to the con! The con starts with the author, Dr. Seuss. He's no doctor.  And that's a fact (and no it's not the only truthful thing in this diatribe of mine).  He used the doctor moniker to sell more books!        That guy in the book pestering the other guy to try "Green Eggs and Ham"? Turns out to be the ham and egg salesman, Sam I Am.   It's a motivational selling "won't take no for an answer" how to sell book disguised as children's literature.     And Sam I Am is psychotically relentless in his pursuit of a sale.  He needs a restraining order slapped on his ***                    "Would you eat them in a box? Would                     you eat them with a fox. Would you eat                     them with a goat.  Would you eat them on a                      boat".  Would you eat green eggs and ham,                     would you eat them Sam I Am?                                                                         Dr. Seuss And on and on. Sam I Am goes stalking him from page to page.        I had a friend of mine, Mustard Joe, ex war veteran with more than twenty kills (you don't even want to know the things he's seen) take a look into this green eggs and ham food source that Sam I Am is pushing so hard.  Here are some of the ingredients he may or may not have found.                                 Ham   --        30 grams of sugar (questionable )                          --       15 grams of caffeine (untested)                                Green eggs   --          Trace amounts of nicotine ( not verified)                         --          Handfuls of ******* (rumored) As you can see, It's not an exact science. People. When eggs turn green, that's mother nature trying to warn you that your food has gone bad.    But in the end, Sam I Am gets the fool to finally try the green eggs and ham and he absolutely loves it.  Maybe the books lesson   is about to not be afraid about things you don't understand or never tried. But I still believe there is insidious deception and evil in the book. I have to think that way.  Because after all -- I'm Willoughby !!
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36
''When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary, When troubles come and my heart burdened be, Then, I am still and wait here in the silence Until You come and sit awhile with me.” <> not hidden, for I reside in my accustomed spot, but my face reveals a dispirited demeanor, so most leave me alone, but not in peace, late June, and the world less-than-august These burdens which are weighty mighty. are like weights in a trainer's vest, while they can be removed, only additions arrive, as screws tightened to increase the threshold of consternation and persistent pain insistent the silenced aura within which I sit most patiently, becomes both jailer and friend, while I await your salvation arrival, amidst tales of others who preceded me in this waiting game predicament, most unsuccessfully, admixed with stories of one or two rewarded... a tease, a stringy tale of hope, an endurance test, to make my heart even more burdened be, though wearied, yet unsuccmbed, for I have seen you, existence verified, and my patience knows no limits, awaiting the cool of fall, when the breezes bear and bare your scent, and hints your returning presence, changes the very meaning of awhile
0
Jul 8, 2025
Jul 8, 2025 at 11:45 PM UTC
my heart burdened be
Drums of Autumn tell us, grandmother, what did they mean? Did you ever get the Lincoln cane? Did you cry? Kenny, I'as a orphan. I never knew. ---That happened, Kenny was my name. I looked past the rim, there was the Corn Mother, I think that's what I coulda seen, but then it's only Grandma, with a grin. Kenneth means know, Grandma said, I gave you that name. kenning handy, a knower, by God, not handsome in that vain way they have today, handy, winsome in puzzles 'n' riddles 'n' such Kokopelli's play mate, some day. Mistooken words rot, if they lie, idle, in the dust meaning nothing ever. I shall not want, I was taught a mistooken truth, I took it, gript it tight, Get a job. Live with some class, join a club that takes your kind. Some churches used to use the Rotary test, if you could pass that test you could eat, after the message at the mission. true? fair? goodwill? wait if the first test is failed, what matters? fair good will benes d'vitas? from the treaty bound liars who called my grand mothers savages, all of them, right by right of conquest. their treaty verified it to me, then they gave me blankets, General Leonardwood, nope, Lord Jeff Amherst did that, then we died. Read the treaty, 1763, small print. Blankets. From the small pox ward, went unsaid. That was just, after the French and Indian war, where the father of the force that claims world-wide military superiority sufficient unto the evil of today, George, the man on the horse, surveyor for the future, fought injuns, so the king could sell their measured land to freed slaves, thus making the mortgage chain, so popular today. Build a casino, get rich quick, it's in the treaty, lotsajobs, busboy, bus driver, maid, Sioux chef and so many, many more. Grandma, in my vision, turned and walked into the desert. I took her word. Brushed the dust and breathed it in. Then I spit against the wind, winked at you and rode my wind away. Free is easy, if you can ride on wind.
0
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 4:38 PM UTC
Mistooken lies in dust
Drums of Autumn tell us, grandmother, what did they mean? Did you ever get the Lincoln cane? Did you cry? Kenny, I'as a orphan. I never knew. ---That happened, Kenny was my name. I looked past the rim, there was the Corn Mother, I think that's what I coulda seen, but then it's only Grandma, with a grin. Kenneth means know, Grandma said, I gave you that name. kenning handy, a knower, by God, not handsome in that vain way they have today, handy, winsome in puzzles 'n' riddles 'n' such Kokopelli's play mate, some day. Mistooken words rot, if they lie, idle, in the dust meaning nothing ever. I shall not want, I was taught a mistooken truth, I took it, gript it tight, Get a job. Live with some class, join a club that takes your kind. Some churches used to use the Rotary test, if you could pass that test you could eat, after the message at the mission. true? fair? goodwill? wait if the first test is failed, what matters? fair good will benes d'vitas? from the treaty bound liars who called my grand mothers savages, all of them, right by right of conquest. their treaty verified it to me, then they gave me blankets, General Leonardwood, nope, Lord Jeff Amherst did that, then we died. Read the treaty, 1763, small print. Blankets. From the small pox ward, went unsaid. That was just, after the French and Indian war, where the father of the force that claims world-wide military superiority sufficient unto the evil of today, George, the man on the horse, surveyor for the future, fought injuns, so the king could sell their measured land to freed slaves, thus making the mortgage chain, so popular today. Build a casino, get rich quick, it's in the treaty, lotsajobs, busboy, bus driver, maid, Sioux chef and so many, many more. Grandma, in my vision, turned and walked into the desert. I took her word. Brushed the dust and breathed it in. Then I spit against the wind, winked at you and rode my wind away. Free is easy, if you can ride on wind.
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63
a  e  i  o  u  and opposing thumbs my woman, she's a snuggler and spooner. burying herself on my, no, in my double barreled chest, her blonde hair, my field of gold.^ she landscapes my life, paralyzing me with the simplest of gestures. she sleeps holding my thumbs. locks me up. locks me down. so I cannot transcribe the lines of poetry mindful, landlines shut, land-mines of verse unexploded, till these now, hours later. a few notes ago, a few days ago, heard an octet, eight voices singing of five letters, five vowels, a  e  i  o  u. you can hear what I heard too. after you listen, better understand vowels are the butter of language. the anointing oil of connectivity. more than a line of code, they are the keys to the code, that make words and life musical. I suppose we could mange without them if we had to. spsz v cd mng wthot thm ff v hd t. but not so well. I suppose we could manage without opposing thumbs. learn to type with my nose, paint with my toes. but not so well. here is how it comes all together. a  e  i  o  u  and opposing thumbs, never give them more than a never thought, passing over, assumed. oh yeah, on some tv show, you can buy a vowel. these glues are the things that give me the chance to tell this: this poem it is a bit about me. this poem it is a bit about her. this poem is really about you. I could live without a  e  i  o  u  and opposing thumbs. but I could not live without her landscaping my chest. but when I share this knowledge with you friend, it becomes a verified, realized, acknowledged truth. So you see this poem is about a  e  i  o  u  and opposing thumbs, but really about you. In fact, I am thinking, that if I did not love the title a  e  i  o  u  and opposing thumbs so much, would entitle it instead, a wholesome democracy of love. you, a registered voter, vote then with both all the a  e  i  o  u  and opposing thumbs at your disposal.
0
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 2:42 AM UTC
a e i o u and opposing thumbs
a  e  i  o  u  and opposing thumbs my woman, she's a snuggler and spooner. burying herself on my, no, in my double barreled chest, her blonde hair, my field of gold.^ she landscapes my life, paralyzing me with the simplest of gestures. she sleeps holding my thumbs. locks me up. locks me down. so I cannot transcribe the lines of poetry mindful, landlines shut, land-mines of verse unexploded, till these now, hours later. a few notes ago, a few days ago, heard an octet, eight voices singing of five letters, five vowels, a  e  i  o  u. you can hear what I heard too. after you listen, better understand vowels are the butter of language. the anointing oil of connectivity. more than a line of code, they are the keys to the code, that make words and life musical. I suppose we could mange without them if we had to. spsz v cd mng wthot thm ff v hd t. but not so well. I suppose we could manage without opposing thumbs. learn to type with my nose, paint with my toes. but not so well. here is how it comes all together. a  e  i  o  u  and opposing thumbs, never give them more than a never thought, passing over, assumed. oh yeah, on some tv show, you can buy a vowel. these glues are the things that give me the chance to tell this: this poem it is a bit about me. this poem it is a bit about her. this poem is really about you. I could live without a  e  i  o  u  and opposing thumbs. but I could not live without her landscaping my chest. but when I share this knowledge with you friend, it becomes a verified, realized, acknowledged truth. So you see this poem is about a  e  i  o  u  and opposing thumbs, but really about you. In fact, I am thinking, that if I did not love the title a  e  i  o  u  and opposing thumbs so much, would entitle it instead, a wholesome democracy of love. you, a registered voter, vote then with both all the a  e  i  o  u  and opposing thumbs at your disposal.
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75
I've begun to question the very purpose of my existence. Which is really just a fancy way of saying ''I've been reading too much Albert Camus.'' The only way to enjoy one's life is to accept the Absurd. To accept that life has no meaning except for the meaning I give it. No purpose other than the purpose I wish it to have.   Belief in God is absurd because there is no way to verify his existence. Belief in the absence of God is absurd because there is no way to verify it. Trying to believe anything spiritually is absurd because spirits are not science and anything that is not science cannot be verified and is therefore absurd. Life is absurd. The purpose of life is reproduction, survival. Or so it has been verified by science. Spiritually though, there is no purpose because everything is a purpose.
0
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 1:37 AM UTC
Absurd.
By: Cedric McClester Justice delayed is justice denied A familiar credo rarely applied So the call for it is a rising tide They’re only trying to close the divide It came so quickly in Baltimore Like nothing that they had ever seen before The young prosecutor was so able and sure Though she never tried a case like it before This time a rookie would light the fuse People rejoiced once given the news The laws don’t exist for police to abuse Responsible parties have to pay some dues She laid the facts out chapter and verse Starting with what she said occurred first It began to appear that Freddie was cursed As she laid out the charges it looked even worst Although color only tends to distract If you must keep track as a matter of fact Out of the six cops three were black Which doesn’t suggest that they knew how to act Cops bleed blue whether black or white The uniform’s the same am I wrong or right? Either or they’ll put out your light Then say you resisted and put up a fight People were asking how Freddie died Some rightly suspected from a bumpy ride And now that those facts have been verified It’s more than a theory that will get tried Just as if Freddie was sending a sign His broken neck and a badly cracked spine Wasn’t self-inflicted we got to find Did they really think that we’d lost our minds © Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.
0
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 8:31 PM UTC
JUSTICE DELAYED IS JUSTICE DENIED
Could someone point the way to salvation please or even just a full night's sleep, without being bone-tired? Kind people, could you please tell me a way to feel again? If not, could you just tell me how to trust again? You see, as of now, I'm in this ugly space where nothing is non-existent and something is just a warning that I am going to be doing something irredeemably dumb. Did you hear, kind madam, that yesterday a girl, barely four months old, was killed because she was lesser? Did you know that her older brother burnt her hand intentionally, and her father only laughed? Her mother killed herself, you know. Rumours say, her mother-in-law hated her and after the girl was born, she only hated the woman more. The father, as rumours go, made her sleep on the floor in the kitchen, after she birthed a female. The mother hated the girl so much, but she knew the greatest punishment would be to make the little girl live out her life with her father and brother. The mother couldn't tolerate looking after the little girl any more, they whisper, let alone, look at her every day to see a sign of her failure The police verified the woman died due to rat poison. Whether she drank freely or due to someone else's Persuasion and other such insignificant details have been carefully lost and burnt. The little girl, with no One to look after her, died. Markings that suspiciously looked like hands were found around her neck. They covered it with a dear little scarf and ignored it.
0
Oct 12, 2012
Oct 12, 2012 at 1:54 PM UTC
So Called Feminism
Could someone point the way to salvation please or even just a full night's sleep, without being bone-tired? Kind people, could you please tell me a way to feel again? If not, could you just tell me how to trust again? You see, as of now, I'm in this ugly space where nothing is non-existent and something is just a warning that I am going to be doing something irredeemably dumb. Did you hear, kind madam, that yesterday a girl, barely four months old, was killed because she was lesser? Did you know that her older brother burnt her hand intentionally, and her father only laughed? Her mother killed herself, you know. Rumours say, her mother-in-law hated her and after the girl was born, she only hated the woman more. The father, as rumours go, made her sleep on the floor in the kitchen, after she birthed a female. The mother hated the girl so much, but she knew the greatest punishment would be to make the little girl live out her life with her father and brother. The mother couldn't tolerate looking after the little girl any more, they whisper, let alone, look at her every day to see a sign of her failure The police verified the woman died due to rat poison. Whether she drank freely or due to someone else's Persuasion and other such insignificant details have been carefully lost and burnt. The little girl, with no One to look after her, died. Markings that suspiciously looked like hands were found around her neck. They covered it with a dear little scarf and ignored it.
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39
glass windows crystal panes quite mesmerized am I colored parts crimson shards I wish to have you for my eyes womanly arch above my head your shapes are all that I have bled my story starts like your creation there was a time when all you were was magnificent idea in the mind of a man a quiet plan unwelcome in the land a time when you were a naked chaos trampled by cattle the dust watched your birth you rose screaming from earth men cursed while they worked a torture an eyesore with potential at best Barren poles for arms Slabs of marble legs when your beauty arrived all were surprised and verified the validity of your maker's pride his blood, your paint his teeth become your enameled wall the iris of his eyes, your windows his mind the crowning dome his life the mascara of your shadows the bones are at rest now no one pounds out their song on the old wintry walls and the days are long the wounds shown are old long out of style you will soon  recover from man's victory and slip back into old ways for from dust you were taken
0
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 10:06 AM UTC
cathedrals
Glad to see you,  the ORANGE hatted man said to the YELLOW shirted Person seated in the FULL Reclining Chair,  WHICH *By the *way,  was ONLY in the Half Back Position.   Being in the Half-Back Position allowed the YELLOW  shirted Person to respond in Just a Slightly UPLIFTED EYE ANGLE !!    And,  the ORANGE Hatted man, Peering Down,  with Head *****  Gave EACH of them an EQUAL Opposition Eye Angle of 22 Degrees EXACT ! !    Now,  to Verify the fact of Equal Opposition, the PROTRACTOR MAN arrived promptly on the scene to Evaluate the Situation..    He (protractor-man) Had , for the Very FIRST-TIME,  been especially Called for this HISTORIC Moment .   YES,,YES,,  For the very "FIRST-TIME"  Equal Opposition between an ORANGE hatted man and a YELLOW  shirted person,  USING the Measurement of "ALL-MEANING",  *THAT IS::   "The Protractor of Life"...  This Historic moment would forever be Relished by Another Member of THE SOCIETY ,  BUT it was up to the Assigned Protractor Man to Assure all Interested Parties,  That the ANGLE of Exactness was * C O R R E C T ! !    OR....it wouldn't COUNT !   OH DEAR GOD,,"THOUGHT"  the assigned Protractor man,  Let my Measurements be CORRECT ! !   The ORANGE  Hatted man continued to Patiently Peer at the YELLOW shirted person seated in the :HALF-BACK  * Position in the Full Reclining Chair..  A Trumpet Blast form a BRONZE  Bassoon,, announced the arrival of  a  SPECIAL LADY ;Fully Gowned in STARTLING PINK  AND Glimmering WHITE PEARLS , adorning Her Neck and SUN-KISSED" DIAMONDS flashed from her Fingers.    In her Right hand  she firmly grasped an envelope.  She Careful in her opening  ,as if  it were a SEVEN-SEALED SCROLL **  Pulled out the  PURPLE with GOLD INLAY INSCRIPTION  ,"CERTIFICATE  OF APPROVAL "  FOR THE   Magnificent  level of ACHIEVEMENT  by the  ORANGE hatted  and YELLOW shirted man ,VERIFIED   BY AN  "UN-COLORED " PROTRACTOR-MAN"   "HEAVENLY" PRAISES AND ACCOLADES  FILLED THE AIR**          AND A "BOOMING-THUNDERING VOICED"  "NOT-EVERYTHING WILL BE IN......."B L A C K & W H I T E " ! !
0
Dec 13, 2010
Dec 13, 2010 at 3:26 AM UTC
*" IN FULL COLOR * " (#42)
Glad to see you,  the ORANGE hatted man said to the YELLOW shirted Person seated in the FULL Reclining Chair,  WHICH *By the *way,  was ONLY in the Half Back Position.   Being in the Half-Back Position allowed the YELLOW  shirted Person to respond in Just a Slightly UPLIFTED EYE ANGLE !!    And,  the ORANGE Hatted man, Peering Down,  with Head *****  Gave EACH of them an EQUAL Opposition Eye Angle of 22 Degrees EXACT ! !    Now,  to Verify the fact of Equal Opposition, the PROTRACTOR MAN arrived promptly on the scene to Evaluate the Situation..    He (protractor-man) Had , for the Very FIRST-TIME,  been especially Called for this HISTORIC Moment .   YES,,YES,,  For the very "FIRST-TIME"  Equal Opposition between an ORANGE hatted man and a YELLOW  shirted person,  USING the Measurement of "ALL-MEANING",  *THAT IS::   "The Protractor of Life"...  This Historic moment would forever be Relished by Another Member of THE SOCIETY ,  BUT it was up to the Assigned Protractor Man to Assure all Interested Parties,  That the ANGLE of Exactness was * C O R R E C T ! !    OR....it wouldn't COUNT !   OH DEAR GOD,,"THOUGHT"  the assigned Protractor man,  Let my Measurements be CORRECT ! !   The ORANGE  Hatted man continued to Patiently Peer at the YELLOW shirted person seated in the :HALF-BACK  * Position in the Full Reclining Chair..  A Trumpet Blast form a BRONZE  Bassoon,, announced the arrival of  a  SPECIAL LADY ;Fully Gowned in STARTLING PINK  AND Glimmering WHITE PEARLS , adorning Her Neck and SUN-KISSED" DIAMONDS flashed from her Fingers.    In her Right hand  she firmly grasped an envelope.  She Careful in her opening  ,as if  it were a SEVEN-SEALED SCROLL **  Pulled out the  PURPLE with GOLD INLAY INSCRIPTION  ,"CERTIFICATE  OF APPROVAL "  FOR THE   Magnificent  level of ACHIEVEMENT  by the  ORANGE hatted  and YELLOW shirted man ,VERIFIED   BY AN  "UN-COLORED " PROTRACTOR-MAN"   "HEAVENLY" PRAISES AND ACCOLADES  FILLED THE AIR**          AND A "BOOMING-THUNDERING VOICED"  "NOT-EVERYTHING WILL BE IN......."B L A C K & W H I T E " ! !
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1
The land of the free. With so many people of pedigree. Which makes us sounds like a dog. As, we try to describe the way we are. When speaking about our heritage. I'm Irish American. I'm Italian American. I'm African American. Or European American. When simply stated about your race. If you're American born. You're American. Verified and validated. To be real. To be true. We're not complete sure who's what? And who is who? We just needs to correct ourself. About, who we are? Or think we are. You might be American of Italian descent. You might be American of African descent. You might be American of Asian descent. Or American of Irish descent. Or European descent. Where we all might be mixed to be kins? When we think of only being friends. We only see black and white in one country. Which I never fiqure out the color. None of the skin identify to the race. But we see B and W on many application forms. Which I have never figure out why? Or less it's to discriminate from hiring. But we always seems to blend in as one. When some one attacks your country from a war. Then color becomes second nature to us. When we proudly states what country we belong. And heritage doesn't get mention at all
0
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 10:11 AM UTC
American Heritage
*Carved in mud horseshoe tracks.. he asked me then remembered she was correct.. literal reality here now verified.. One track though symmetry double only this one with appearance holder and candle.. consciousness is energized by coherence of difference.. nature reflects an image of flame...*
0
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 11:36 PM UTC
Candle and Flame
What are they to do with their hands if they no longer care? if they would rather take an iPad over fresh air? If it’s auto-correct teaching them how to spell words? when raising your child: is Nicki Minaj doing a better job? It’s because they now live in that neon-green X-Box glow blasting strangers from all walks of life online playing Halo. While Smokey the Bear goes around lighting matches there are no more sandwiches left in our pic-a-nic baskets. It’s the Kids! Because the only toboggan they go through is YouTube because there are no such things as books in Facebook. Because it’s behind a shiny screen their ingenuity goes to waste because it’s the equivalent of dropping Simba on his face. So lets just Skype instead of meeting up and going for a walk! 140 characters or less to dictate the way we communicate and talk! Because Clark Kent is not Superman unless his Twitter feed is verified and behind close doors there's no room to grow a child’s mind.
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May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 1:45 PM UTC
The Kids!
You call me alarmist Because I say what I have heard. You call me socialist As if it were a ***** word. You call me communist Like this is nineteen fifty two. You make an epithet Of anyone who contradicts you. You call me coward Because I hate war so much. You call people ****** If men should hug or touch. You call people terrorists If they don't worship your way. You seem to hate the poor Wish they would just go away. You have a list of names You use instead of using specifics. You have a list of behaviors You consider to be extra terrific Like making fun of races And calling starving people losers. Make laws against cannabis While you are a bunch of boozers. You use Christianity Like membership in the Rotary. Won't take your credentials To be verified by a legal notary. You hide your profits And brag about your successes And become homicidal If you get anything but yesses. It's a sick world you sell With your hate filled speeches. Surely this is not what Your spiritual leader teaches. There is so much disdain And even evil in what you do. Let us all hope and pray Our kids don't turn out like you.
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Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 1:47 PM UTC
THE NAME GAME
Sub-atomic particles the atoms they form molecules, cell organelles cells, machinery of life organs, organisms communities and ecosystems planets, solar systems, galaxies galactic clusters and their inverse black holes the doors to other universes, a contradiction in terms.                  For language and its shadow consciousness must hold matter the material world snugly inside concepts theories and hypotheses to be experimentally verified using vision and the other senses, collecting data and interpreting the known facts accumulated over time.                                           Can matter exist without a consciousness to behold it? Believing in our mortality (the species) we have created God (a supreme being) probably not carbon-based to encompass every universe but is God inside or outside consciousness? Can God tell us what to do or must we tell God alone what to do?                       Here is ego projecting personality, exerting force on community, asserting the existence and predominance of component DNA. An already hackneyed theory that DNA survival drives procreation, personality, savings bonds everything but poetry (most poems included). Mustache, cowboy hat horse whisperer, gulag master Odysseus, King Lear                                       salvation in the details. Yes, these personalities individual and interesting as opossum, bear oak and ash beech nut, pine cone Grand Canyon sandstone, Green Mountain granite.
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Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
Sub-atomic particles
Sub-atomic particles the atoms they form molecules, cell organelles cells, machinery of life organs, organisms communities and ecosystems planets, solar systems, galaxies galactic clusters and their inverse black holes the doors to other universes, a contradiction in terms.                  For language and its shadow consciousness must hold matter the material world snugly inside concepts theories and hypotheses to be experimentally verified using vision and the other senses, collecting data and interpreting the known facts accumulated over time.                                           Can matter exist without a consciousness to behold it? Believing in our mortality (the species) we have created God (a supreme being) probably not carbon-based to encompass every universe but is God inside or outside consciousness? Can God tell us what to do or must we tell God alone what to do?                       Here is ego projecting personality, exerting force on community, asserting the existence and predominance of component DNA. An already hackneyed theory that DNA survival drives procreation, personality, savings bonds everything but poetry (most poems included). Mustache, cowboy hat horse whisperer, gulag master Odysseus, King Lear                                       salvation in the details. Yes, these personalities individual and interesting as opossum, bear oak and ash beech nut, pine cone Grand Canyon sandstone, Green Mountain granite.
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Most of us are poor when it comes to the currency of retweets. We are unworthy, at the bottom of the Twitter feed, Swimming in a stream littered with what is trending. Rafting whitewater every time BuzzFeed tweets: *Follow the bouncing lamb Vine account immediately.* Bots multiply: I want a #lamb and we're drowning. CHOO CHOO! It’s moving. QUICK. JUMP ON, the steamboat of salacious content is LEAVING. I say: Let's fight the current; Stop being slaves to click-bait; Start a revolution with 140 characters. @KarlMarx Topple the Verified Twitter users.
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Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC
Topple the Verified Twitter users.
I've been waking to the sudden throes of intense sadness despite morning sunlight, as if there was infinite darkness in the former breaths shared with a being I was meant to want, and somehow want still, yet this being is a shadowy spell, a glare on glass, a riddle of all my dreamt desires, and somehow also, my attempted reality; somehow also, my doorway to my deserved insanity. A wholeness in this end I cannot find, fight for, grasp, endlessly seek, for knowing somehow this is not my choice, nor my alleviation, not when all the moves somehow belong to him, all accepted actions, all verified decisions, his, all sensible words, his, not mine, never mine, I am simply voiceless, stuttering, adoring, a loving woman's shape, never filled with fiber. Never was my static so ensured, never was my strength so bottled up and stored away, so ridiculous, nonsensical, like a mime locked up in a tower, in so many ways.
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Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 10:50 AM UTC
I didn't know
whispers stay hidden secrets verified on lips obscured never told
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May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 5:37 PM UTC
[whispers stay hidden] senryu
The Philippi rulers had Paul and Silas beaten, imprisoned and their feet clamped into the stocks. Paul and Silas prayed and sang praises to The Lord continuously after the cell was locked. But at midnight the prisoners bonds were unfastened when the foundation started to shake. This happened because God caused an earthquake. The jailer feared the rulers because he thought the prisoners had escaped and he was going to commit suicide. But Paul told him that they were still there and the jailer saw all of the prisoners, what Paul said was verified. The jailer asked Paul and Silas how that he could be saved and he was told. They said to believe in Jesus and he would be saved along with his household. The jailer cleaned Paul and Silas's wounds and then they baptized the jailer's family. Paul and Silas were released from prison and then they were asked to leave the city.
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Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 8:56 PM UTC
Paul and Silas's Imprisonment
Today or tomorrow Somewhere around in the future Something will change Something good will happen Something proper. Something will fall in it’s proper place Something will turn out to prove itself to be right and justified along with time Something will turn out to be beyond expectations. Today or tomorrow Somewhere around in the future Something will change Something good will happen Something proper. One of the main reasons why continual efforts are made in present even when success is achieved prior is to attain a secured future Almost each and everyone strives to achieve the same in his life, a secured future. As of now in the present everything is a bit different In the present efforts are been made and no stone is left unturned Nothing is left to hope and expectations Everything that is being done is checked, rechecked and verified again Agreed that future will be better Also agreed that future will be different from present There will be something, even if that something is small, Even then, There will be something good along in the future Until then, in the present, it’s wait and watch and then move ahead along with time. Better wait for the something good to happen Better to continue in the present with the present moment of time Move ahead along with time. Today or tomorrow Somewhere around in future Something will change Something good might happen Something proper. It takes time, patience and perseverance for something good to happen, but then all said and done efforts never go wasted if one doesn’t give up in life Life has always remained strange, uncertain and challenging, but then that’s life Say, Hi, Good morning and begin your day Definitely life will smile upon you at some point in time during the day Life continues waiting for something good to happen.
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Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
Hope, there is something good waiting to happen
Today or tomorrow Somewhere around in the future Something will change Something good will happen Something proper. Something will fall in it’s proper place Something will turn out to prove itself to be right and justified along with time Something will turn out to be beyond expectations. Today or tomorrow Somewhere around in the future Something will change Something good will happen Something proper. One of the main reasons why continual efforts are made in present even when success is achieved prior is to attain a secured future Almost each and everyone strives to achieve the same in his life, a secured future. As of now in the present everything is a bit different In the present efforts are been made and no stone is left unturned Nothing is left to hope and expectations Everything that is being done is checked, rechecked and verified again Agreed that future will be better Also agreed that future will be different from present There will be something, even if that something is small, Even then, There will be something good along in the future Until then, in the present, it’s wait and watch and then move ahead along with time. Better wait for the something good to happen Better to continue in the present with the present moment of time Move ahead along with time. Today or tomorrow Somewhere around in future Something will change Something good might happen Something proper. It takes time, patience and perseverance for something good to happen, but then all said and done efforts never go wasted if one doesn’t give up in life Life has always remained strange, uncertain and challenging, but then that’s life Say, Hi, Good morning and begin your day Definitely life will smile upon you at some point in time during the day Life continues waiting for something good to happen.
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