"vindicator" poems
Silly, silly, silly me.
To think I'm free, and that I'll be somebody?
Silly, silly, silly me.
You can't be free, and that's just it,
All you are is 'somebody.'
Some-body.
"Some body."
But that's not true!
Look at Trostky and Lenin,
Michael Myers and Lennon,
The other Lennon.
It's hard to differentiate in name and legacy,
Because both Lennon's were revolutionaries,
Marching around like the freshman from heaven.
But neither believed they were the result of divine intervention in the affairs of man,
Because this convention would threaten their worldview and beckon away their sanity...
In the same way that the Pope or ****** let their divine vanity commit greater blasphemy and bring them future agony.
Now neither Lennon nor Lenin came anywhere close to being men from Galilee,
In fact they were more the men of the galaxy,
Or at least, John was, with his peach fuzz beard and his belief that love is greater than fear.
The other Lenin implemented the New Economic Policy, to starve the proletariat and start his revolution on an already hypocritical trend that would continue quite the same until the very end.
And it proves something, does it not?
Violence sends a message to no one but the instigator,
Changing them to justify, and claim is wasn't misbehavior;
But that's a lie, no idea of mine is worth the death of a human mind,
And to pretend otherwise makes one delude themselves that they aren't an instigator, but an illustrator,
Painting in the blood as if ****** makes an innovator.
And for ****** there is no vindicator,
Violence is an image breaker,
Indulged in by poor imitators who think they're right, and the world is wrong.
Unaware this makes them weak, not strong.
Now John Lennon was the true revolutionary;
Although he succumbed to violence, he veered away from it, even when it was necessary.
He fought the war, and yes, the war did win,
But at least he didn't cover his scars with artificial skin,
Or deny his implicit wrongs as a result of all original sin.
John Lennon used the word 'nigger' to the opposite effect.
He used the word to trigger something bigger and correct,
The wrong that seemed so propagated by the last colonial tide,
Of which the other Lenin defected and took colonialism's side.
John Lennon was Utopian and told us of a better world;
He interjected definition, and caused old thoughts to curl away in fright,
And bite the dust despite their might and past dominion of industrialism,
It was a schism, and it still plagues us to this day.
John Lennon understood we over-complicate way
To
Often.
Silly, silly, silly me.
To think I'm free, and that I'll be somebody?
Silly, silly, silly me.
You can't be free, and that's just it,
All you are is 'somebody.'
Some-body.
"Some body."
"Some body" is something,
And some body can change the world.
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 1:34 PM UTC
Faithful traitor,
My own vindicator.
Loyal to the end,
Still disguised as a friend.
Stalwart paragon,
Among those too far gone.
Betrayal a means to right,
Cleanse corrupted insight.
Faith placed in you,
misguided, yes its true.
A traitor,
makes salvation all the greater.
Now I see,
the pain you caused me.
Was meant to steer,
Your reason, I would not hear.
Faithful to me in betrayal,
Painted a dark portrayal.
Of the kindness you did pay,
What else can I say?
My faithful traitor.
My heart you did break,
Still not free of that ache.
Cast a stone at my brow,
Your love I did disavow.
You take it in,
my failure my own sin.
Saving me from my own-self,
Brought this down on myself.
Traitor yes to my eyes,
brought free from my demise.
Thank you for your trust,
the truth solely your lust.
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
She wore endurance as a cloak.
Tried ever so sorely and wrongly,
she committed all to the Vindicator.
In her resolute quietness, she spoke volumes.
For her ardent disparagers,
her payback was tireless hours of intercession.
As she stoically embraced undeserved tribulations,
she gained character, wisdom, and tranquility.
Who dares put out the brilliance of a star?
Her sublimity resonates evermore in the
darkest patch of the night.
Though seared with scars,
her stellar virtues are glaring,
illuminating hearts and inspiring minds.
She can’t feign ordinariness,
even if she hides behind her own shadow.
Detached from a frenzied world,
she derived her essence from heavenly fire.
Oh, had they known the fount from whence she drank,
they would not have, in malignity,
ensnared their own souls
in a bid to put out her luminous radiance.
They have murdered sleep through their ignoble gestures.
Behold the star as she abides in the firmaments!
Purified by the trials and tribulations,
she stoically endures and thrives.
The sky may be bespangled with twinkling stars,
but her brilliance stands out in luminary distinction.
Sep 23, 2020
Sep 23, 2020 at 8:11 PM UTC
love a girl like pyrite
when you found me in the mines
shook me from your baskets
saw me glint in the sunlight
said my irises shifted like tiger's eye
i was never what you thought
love a girl like pyrite
if she's your gold then i'm a
shade of amber, a copper quarter
if I was hard then she is soft and
quick in your hands like a gardner snake
faint and without teeth, tangling through
the grass and you love the silent chase
the girls that flip belly up and
kiss your corners, kiss your
borders, rub away the ash
and lay themselves over your grenades
your sticks of dynamite you blew
me away with
love a girl like pyrite
because I was a fool's gold,
the normal luster of something
grand, sieved through your tables
back into the river, the unspoken
daughters of not-good-enough
lying in wait, picked up by farmers
by men who sell, who hock, who
pawn, washed down in Vindicator Valley
run between thumbs, turned up amongst
rocks the ordinary, run-of-the-mill
we can only be imitators of
the greatest
love a girl, who's fool's gold
would you find her?
would you keep her?
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 9:44 PM UTC
A Heartseeker, punishing those who have unjustly broken hearts.
Condemning them to a place most suitable for their parts,.
We shall leave them in the darkness,
For us to hunt later.
An Aristocrat, money is no issue for me,
I’ll hunt those in darkness, and have some tea,
This is my Final Hour,
Let that be known.
An Arclight, hunting the undead making them sleep,
Forevermore they shall not make a peep,
We shall be known,
The silvers bolts strike now.
A Vindicator, allowing those who have betrayed to have revenge,
Letting them go or stay shall depend,
If they shall go into the night,
and never return.
A Dragon slayer, the serpents of betrayal,
There hides shall be re-tailored,
Taking the sight, taking mind,
We shall hunt the darkness until our Final Hour.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 1:12 PM UTC
Cut to the chase
giving you a brand new leash
Returning to what I was
Never forgetting
What you've been
Bite the knife
'Cause you've got another day
and Another time
to be another gambler
Another vindicator
Get up off your knees
and smell the rain
The smell of death
mingles in the air
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC