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"warrent" poems
Of a Ministry pitiful, angry, mean, A gallant commander the victim is seen. For promptitude, vigour, success, does he stand Condemn'd to receive a severe reprimand! To his foes I could wish a resemblance in fate: That they, too, may suffer themselves, soon or late, The injustice they warrent. But vain is my spite They cannot so suffer who never do right.
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Of A Ministry Pitiful, Angry, Mean
The coffee you gave me was expensive, I know because it came in a cardboard cup. Only the from the best coffee shops Do you get such luxurious containers to hold your beverage. In a working man's cafe you get a china mug. No cardboard cups here. They wash them themselves you know. No trees were injured when making their coffee. It's not good enough, it's too cheap. No. Coffee must cost the earth to warrent cardboard cups. Thank you for paying so much for my coffee.
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May 19, 2010
May 19, 2010 at 11:05 AM UTC
The coffee
Emotion provokes me, Passion demotivates me, And love desensitizes me. But today, I let myself break down. I let the tears break free from their restraints, and flow freely, and they ran Down my cheeks, fast and urgent, like they desperately needed to meet my chin for the first time. And I realize how fragile it is, how fragile I am, how sad life really is. I feel Real. And this isn't something I've felt in a while. Why is it that the thought of losing something so precious to me, makes me feel alive? Why is it that I believe I need you, now? The words keep running out my mouth, as I spatter these thoughts out loud, as my tears follow in unison. Flowing, Like energy, Like the blood in my feeble veins, Like the students passing through halls, Like cars on the freeway, Like life. I am flowing, pushing effortlessly through some invisible current that I have been fighting against my whole life. My tears, however, have reminded me that I am still moving. No matter how much I have tried to halt, no matter how many times I have attempted to stop, My tears have reminded me. I am flowing, I am breaking against my restraints, and meeting life face on for the first time in my life. My anxiety has clouded me from reality for too long. So thank you, Sadness, If that is your name. You saved me from going insane, tonight.
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Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 9:34 PM UTC
Outstanding Warrent
I have a question? What do you see when you look at me? A man, ***** hair, that I'm black,my croocked smile Or my poetry? I see ,when i look upon others, an empty room ,A new plain of existence just for us two. I say room because of the mental constructs that are divisions Race Nationality Class Religion Its not I'm me and you are you It should be we,banded together just to get through, Our lives. We differ by so little, Why we make the small contol us is a riddle. I have a question why do so few know of the moors? we don't know ourselves that's why we feel we need more and more. Why is it when we try and impress others we are frantic, But when I am proud of my history I'm afrocentric? I'm not pro any race unless you are talking the human race but even if thats the case the problem we face is that we feel like we are in a better place then those who live on the same plain,same world, same pace. The animals the plants we all come from the same soil and look how we've been spoiled with abundance but that does not warrent our decadence. We have to destroy these  edifice Errected using false truthes,  fear, blood and sacrifice. Why is so much hidden Why is the topic of civilized color forbidden? Why do you have to be better? Who are you trying to be better than? Where is the quantified data? Why can't we just be human?
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Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 6:54 PM UTC
Question #2
vicodin is a long term friend with a warrent for my liver and my life. 1:43am we had an appointment and god only knows i could never be late for such a chalky sense of closure. and the young paramedic who burst my vein and scolded me could only pray his words meant more than the hum of streetlights as my body exchanged existence for the embodiment of thought and a brittle concept of my phrenic nerve which was never more at peace than when my lungs remembered the luxury of standstill traffic of weighted morals of crushing insecurity's release and the resulted ballooning as squashed egos cry, and the garage door screams as it's yanked open horrid sounds and tortured motion on both accounts spiritual cataracts torn free commercialized visions now blur as the orange bottle morphs from vicodin to paracetamol equalized views in my bloodstream as the sheet metal ceiling shifts to plaster tiles to a TV set to a bathroom mirror to an agonized woman next door to the back windows where my mother cries where no one but the whole world can watch to a blue plastic mattress and a first floor window covered with bars to a pale green day room with a caged TV where there was bleach in the stomach of a nine year old where the dying took their resurrecting breath between games of spoons where the hinges screamed and blood pressure was taken three times a day this where the living came to kiss death goodbye until next time
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Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 10:09 PM UTC
Vicodin
They sent you home today. Doctors with white hair and dark words. "Quality of life...inoperable... Nonresponsive to treatment..." I helped take off that paper gown, sticky and red and crinkling. Signed the release death-warrent. We limped home, you and I, faint has-been wonders. "Your secrets made you over-think," you said. I wept. In bed, you'd be gone soon. But you couldn't go if I held on, could you?
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Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 6:53 AM UTC
Inoperable
Inconceivably impossible But yet here it is. Here I am. An anomaly trying To mainstream It's way through life While some sense in me Finds no such sense in you Sometimes I am that tadpole Weaving it's way through the current Sometimes that kingfisher In amongst termites Did you know that Theres a warrent out For your arrest They say that you're The very best At what you do And yeh you do be good At getting me to love you **** you I do. I do love you.
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Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 4:15 PM UTC
Anomaly
Everything brings us      To the moment We're meant to be at. For better or worse,       Life is chaos. And our actions have      Consequences that Warrent infinite possibilities. A ripple, that we       Have no control over.
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Oct 28, 2019
Oct 28, 2019 at 5:41 PM UTC
Life is chaos.