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Michael Marchese Apr 2017
Prometheus ignites to spark this
Molotov to make his Marxist
On swine Fuhrer's Faux News tweet
Hashtag it #GorbachevWallStreet
'Cuz Putin's puppet Pinochet's
Whipped Creme de Kremlin's CIA  
From JFK to Allende
Like Russian roulette ricochet
I'll Trotsky through McCarthy's brains
Leave slain these ****** sugar Keynes   
Discred' the Fed’s six-figureheads
With strikes at dawn more red than Debs  
Still breakin' breads with Mulan Bouges
Makin' men of Khmer Stooges
Seein’ Rouge when Al Spans Greens
Potemkin loan wolf ponzi schemes
Who count the sheep like Philippines
Then Black Pearl Harbor GRANMA’s dreams...

Of Marilyn Monroes in store
Just off-shore ****** who **** the poor
A Glass of Steagall's broken trust
Half emptier than bowls of dust
In rust beltways still spewin’ fumes
As factories become Khartoums
No carbon footprint tax the hint
Of Amazon decays in Flint
Just pop the caps and drown in debt
Like Kent State drinkin' to forget
That cuttin’ class engenders race
Leaves glory, gold and God's disgrace
To slaughter Moor than Reconquista  
From Marti to Sandinista     
With Zapata sharin’ crops  
Till my Mexica heartbeat stops

I'm Pancho infiltratin’ villas
The Magilla of guerillas
In the midst of Congolese  
Same colonies, just different thieves
To me, my breed’s of landless deeds
So how you like ‘dem Appleseeds?
FReeducatin’ caves of youth
Fed Citizen’s United Fruit
‘Cuz now my open eye of Horus
Battle cries Grito de Lares
Che is centered in these veins
So my Ashoka takes the reigns
These Iron paci-Fists pack hits
Like Jimi on some Malcolm ****
Still Hajj mirages I barrage
The Raj with sheer Cong camouflage

Deployin' Sepoys on viceroys
And pol desPots’ in the employs
Of Tweedledums who run the slums
With country clubs of loaded guns
These Betsy Deez bear arms to school
Till no kids fly kites in Kabul
So gas mask your Sharia flaw
I'll Genghis Khan Sheikoun it raw  
'Cuz refugees are rising
And we're anti-socializing
Subsidizing private party plans
Who take commands from ***** hands
These grand old klans coup klux control
Your diamond minds with mines of coal
An oil Standardized existence
Solar powers my resistance

******* sun of Liberty  
My fear itself is history  
Rewriting wrongs of Leo’s creed
In culture’s blood and vulture’s greed
An alt-right/all-white cockpile   
Stockpilin' human capital
In tricklin’ contests over spoils
Of the cotton-ceded soils
Jingos chained to Cruci-fictions
Swallowin' good Christian dictions
I spit Spanish Inquisition
Trippin' Socrates sedition
Droppin' Oppen's fission quest
For "now I am become death"
'Cuz G-bay pigs in-Fidel's sites
Flew U-2's into my last rights

These Saddamites, I smite Assad
Then spread 'em like Islamabad
Convert for-profit prison tsars
From Escobars to Bolivars 
Like currency in Venezuela
Current police-state favela
Where 9/10th's of your possession's
Worth less than your Great Depression’s
Upscale bail ‘em outs of jail
With Dodd-Frank banks too big to fail
Your FDA-approved psychosis
From Campos’ daily dose of
More defense? Here’s my two cents
These slave wages ain’t excrements
So just say no to Reaganomics    
Got us hooked, but not on phonics

Just that Noriega strain
Of Contras stackin' crack contain
Like MAD dogs who trade weapons-grades  
For Ayatollah hate tirades
On “don’t ask, don’t tell” plague ebonics
Drug crusAID Jim Crow narcotics     
Warsaw rats injected, tested,
Quarantined, and then arrested
Guess the J. Arbenz' lens
Still Tet offends their ethnic cleanse
Still Wounding Knees of Standing Sioux
Till Crazy Horses stampede you   
For Mother Nature’s common ground
My Martin Luther’s gather ‘round
Is hellbound sounds of Nero’s crown  
Let's burn this Third World Reichstag down

Vox populyin’ to remove ‘ya
Like Lumumba then Nkrumah
So some Pumbaa kleptocrat
Declares himself the next Sadat
To hide supply-side Apartheid
Increase demand for genocide
So check your factions in Uganda  
Tune into Hotel Rwanda
Come play pirates with Somalis
Then desert ‘em like Benghazis
Thirst for blood so French Algiers  
It boils mine in Trails of Tears  
My destiny unManifest-
Oppressive Adam-Smitten West
So pay your overdues to Mao
I’ll Mussolini Chairman Dow

Then flood this 9th ward Watergate
With killing fields of glyphosate
I'll redistribute IMF’s
With Left so deft you’d think it’s theft
I’ll My Lai massacre these lines
With sweet Satsuma samurhymes
I'll make these Madoff Hitlers squeal
With that Bastille New Deal cold steel
Now feel that Shining Pathos wrath
Drop Nagasaki aftermath
On Nanjing kings and dragon’s Diems
With ****** bodhisattva zens
To show you how I pledge allegiance
With razed flags still rapt in Jesus  
Laosy liars pogrom psalms
Can’t Uncle Phnom my Penh’s truth bombs

On heroes shootin' ******
My fix is un-American
Tiananmen democracies
To Syngman Rhee hypocrisies  
Theocracies drive me Hussein
With Bush league’s mass destruction claim
So I dig laissez pharaohs graves
With pyramids of Abu Ghraibs
Then nail their coffers closed like Vlad
I AM THE GHOST OF STALINGRAD
My hammer forged in winters past
My sickle reaps the shadows caste
By pantheons of penta-cons
Whose Exxons lead to autobahns
When liberal Arts of War and Peace in
Free speech teach my voice of treason
“Fascism will come to America wrapped in a flag and carrying a cross”
-Sinclair Lewis
Nat Lipstadt Feb 17
~my poet friends and friendly poets~

(written in anger, then sorrow,
tinged with regret, but in the end one
has no choice but to forgive and forget)

<•>

the ghood poet knows no boundaries,
lays down tracks of a New England
pond of nirvana,
or across Siberian froze wastelands,
another
salves the wounds of dying soldiers,
and gives away comfort to the dying
with the freeing oxygen of
comforting words

the world of self,
that thing we know best,
thus encouraged by the textbooks,
well,
to have at it, plays whacamole
with your  owned flirtatious emotions,
none too imperious or low down or
garbage dump *****, that yet
cannot be validated by exploratory
over-the-line words pithy

even the florid, tiresome nickel & dime ing
rhyming scheming crutches,
we so oft employ,
yields up stuff that ain’t half bad,
periodically,
though, the blunt of words well crafted
needs
no such delimiting amusing playthings
or imprisoning
I-am-amoebic-pen-tata-meter

take you inspiration from here and there,
the proverbial deep dark of the mind’s recessed corridors of
corrupted consciousness,
or, the
contrail whiffs of the steaming steaming of the contradictions of a
newborn first day’s contrast of-
the wet dew on toes cooling,
while the simultaneous sun warms all
the cheeks,
heats the blood with
a thanks-god-I’m-alive
overwhelmingly overall tickling,

or
not.

write with the tools you have, but keep
them well sharpened, with
insight and revelation,
exploring the rain’s windowed
navigable rivulets,
the musical tempos
of waves and their multi-mystical variations,
and the readers will come like
pilgrims to your  holy land,
wearied and yet so delightedly hopeful,
with tingling contrasting dictions,
to capture and release,
by shattering any
stale notions of adulation
will bring your
audience of holy voyagers and voyeurs
to imbibe so deeply your creativity for the quenching, and the
amen gasp escaping tween
their lips is just a simple holy,
gentling thank you

discard the bad words as ornery and
distracting, veiled in pomposity and
highfaluting, self-saluting, arrogance of
those deeming themselves critical thinkers,
who thrive in the low mud flats of
self-pretension and the reassurance
of a mirror’s reassurance

write straight from the heart,
fill our eyes with the
complexity of the simple
and
grant us the write to share,
in your humanity

craft the work
and
the work
will repay
so stealthily
by secretly
crafting you





                                   nml
3:43 am 2/16/25

p.s,always fixyour typos
David Dec 2014
Add
Add
Add
my
Addictions.
dictions (diction's) lost
my addiction's dictions (diction's) lost conviction
excuse that last part, it was intrinsically self-involved
because advertisements
tell me to want.
everything.

Add
Add
Add
all my addictions
then divide by whats left.

Chandler says you can't divide by nothing.
Word Study #3
So, after reading this Programme with her
And felt the Blood up-river past your brain
She was Smiling. And thus I beg-confirm
How to abdicate this Throneful Pain
Do Tears from your Fans ever sensate you
Even when their Pillars support your Fare
Bitter Notes will tweet; And Pretty Souls too
Just how you Falter these Dictions beware
She was Brave enough to post the Same Event
At Risk to debit their Frustrated Fears
Brother and Sister: Most live Excuse meant
A Funny Welcome to whom they Revere.
Please. This isn't the first Turtle Reflex
Of Four-Digits-Two minus Year-of-Six.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
RILEY Nov 2013
I apologize if my eyes,
Tend to wander into your worlds.
Penetrating the walls you’ve built,
To get a sneak peek into your last nights
And next years
And what are you doing todays.
I apologize,
If my ears air-waved into your waving dictions,
Dropping tones,
Dimming voices,
Dictating the peace you want yourself to attain
Through the side conversations
And the cocktail effects
Attending, to what you’re not aware of.
And I wasn’t aware that you are going to treat me that way;
I gave you my heart over dinner
Last night; under the table your family was sitting on-
As we put on our decorous smiles
And threw our shy giggles;
Cracking up with strong inner laughter within,
Because the same
Lost, upset, wild
Shoot first ask later couple
Are pretending to blush over “grown up” jokes
Made by our fathers
To test our inner surfaces;
I gave you my heart over dinner last night,
And that was
THE last night;
Because my heart and yours
Stopped exercising their vividness
On a Tuesday morning.
They, stopped writing musicals of us,
For my heart was executed
And yours got shattered-
Nowhere to be found;
Martyred in between the lines of a political message
They wrote with your blood
Forgetting about mine,
They carved their letters
With the nymph in a black sweater;
And the river that she used to own,
Took her away
Before anyone can see,
The disfigured goddess now list in the sea
Of blood-of my thoughts and reflections.
My voice,
Now layered into dissimilar tones;
The lowest, is the one I use to constantly pray for you
And the highest is for me to scream for your fallen eyes.
I stand steady
Against the tidal waves
And write on the walls
The poetry I kept inside,
The walls you’ve built;
The walls everyone builds
And I try to penetrate
To get a sneak peek
Of their last night’s
And next year’s
And what are you doing today’s.
Because my walls are destroyed
My pillars are demolished
My life is but a living memory of hers,
And my eyes are nothing but thieves,
Staring their way to steel the words
From the faces in the crowd
In order to write something
That can get me to forget
That I am mourning;
That in my head plays a sad guitar,
With a silent base
And a lost drum beat.
I apologize for writing this,
For letting your eyes conquer these papers
For letting your ears hear those words.
I apologize for feeling the urge to apologize
But that’s what I grew up on
And no one can seem to get rid of their bad habits…
Here's to the fallen martyrs of our mistakes.
This is not for substance
Depth, not pragmatic at all
emotional ******* when mentally I'm Lance Armstrong, wit blue ball

But wit *****,I mean thoughts, as I Tom Cruz through life, so an apology
Id owe myself if not against my policy
Cuz "I'm sorry" like Scientology

Don't make sense so astrology
Can try to map out my stars
I just hope Lady Luck shows up Before Chris brown, and she sees stars

What can I say, I can really charm
Like lucky charms I march mellow
I like girls who still say&count; their chubby bunnys...no marsh mellows

If I lost u there ....just mellow
like yellow,pop songs whorin out hello
So of course forced ******* lately seems endorsed ...pudding pop, jello

Can't be trusted bad enough kids aren't safe anywhere ...gone
I even over react at subway when my sons asked if he wants a foot long

I already know this is foolish
But the rule is ...the real fool is
Those schooled by the useless
at least I know I'm stupid

Taking it out of context, no contest
Your honor....Honest
That was the first time I promise
I hardly ever try to hit on prom kids

Wit tight grips to poke a Bonnet
Off the bun from poccohontis
When findin the island of *****
Oops "He Broke her *******"

That blood soaks on a sausage
....Just another day at the office
Where we process the obnoxious
til the world is my Hospice

A no knowledge college for knowledge to abolish the need
To be correct politically&bree;;
seeds Thatll bleed to succeed

Sp our goal, of bringing awareness
To the shortages pendin
As extinction of bent bananas grow
Straight, it's time to help bendin

bananas, but whats bananas is
ignoring real issues latched
To Muslim hate talks,instigated
Infiltrated so u won't go snap

When they send more of our kids to war, so if u hate, like they ask
When propaganda props the jenga, NVM...wait..look! Kim kardashian ***

That needs a cardigan...plaid
"Drugs drugs drugs! which are bad"
Ask your mom who made u at prom
Or ask your alcoholic abusive dad

Who thinks Itampons a small iPad
Where Dark and red bleeds
quoted Moses"a wifes rags a bonus, So like me  "part the Red Sea"

Will need are secure like cures
the government assures us do not
Really Exist like seniors ****, that
firmly sits, and not hip drop

implying the governments got
secrets but dont ask me ****
Cause wit metaphors, I'm never sure  
Maybe the govt has saggy ****

Some dictions descriptions givin has restriction or depiction's
equivocal, so ones vision of religion
Is another's flashback circumcision  

To an unforgiven rabbis hasty snip
No one Asked "may we strip"
The turtle neck ******* on your slim
priest teasing baby ****

But written permission maybe fit
When a baby's **** and crazy ****
Is so uncivil to fiddle and whittle the little middle, above my skittles it sits

And the initial riddle is, riddle this
What Is sprinkled with ****
And Often tinkles to spit ..
Full of wrinkles, it tickles... The hint?

If she swallowed and followed the
nutrients that hallows out ....
Ud still have wrinkles but it helps to single out,who's single⁢'s about

Time2see my psychologist who yells I need help...(yells) I need help!"
She said her head, lead her to bed
And said her brains dead &melts;

And to blame for her frame of mind
Is the frame of mine, it's the kind
That very rarely has thoughts that carry any logic&scare;; me but I'm

Just daring and not caring but im
sharing the mind of jerry
Where clowns fill towns with slide whistle sounds&priests; that marry

Donald trump And Carrie
Whos news was very scary
as Carrie had to carry a Kanye west hilter hybrid and Arbitrary

Is how arbitrary and arm pit hair be
Armed with hairy Italian yarn
That they wear as bare, but armed
Is bare **** arms that like bear arms

Bears a bears hair where arms
Are usually bare but bears harmed
Is how the thick hair I wear, where it's layered, but not the ****

Hair that impairs where my palms  
Look like they grow two beards
But it's not like i would blow deers
maybe Bambi...who knows were

Not gettin hypothetical to go near
How endearing a dear is it's queer as for my hairy palms I wrote them
Ahem, Dear palms: be calm I'm here

And I'm so sorry u resemble the
Essential pieces that are detrimental
For trump hair that trump wears but
His is authentic ******* Assembled

By the youngest child laborer, paid
less than the condoms for rapin her
So embezzle on levels of unethical
Devils black *** ...and kettle...sure

Let's move on to...Ernie, hey it's Bert
I don't discriminate
Support abortion, or the portion
supportin orphans who's cure

Is particular and par with a ****
Who's testicular inhibitors
Make him a prematurely Shirley
So surely he's early in visitors

So to recap the crap hid in were
Child labour jokes great!
Abortion, psychotic neurotic topics
******* that'll fill in ya, all the hate

Oh wait wait wait...Can't forget ****
Or what I call a bill Cosby date
Afternoon delight? You'll sleep past moon and right to the drowsy awake

State... Wait.. are u a ****? Great!
I never ***** one of those
That's enough Cosby dialogue
It's dyin off, so I'm signin off vogue

Strike a pose, like a ****** my
***** bled all up my skirt in
My ****** like I was al bundy,
****** as a ted bundy surgeon

So uncomfortable like twerkin
When you see 12 yr old butts
That makes me want to be free of
tv, but it makes r Kelly want to ***

So go hug or **** a tree
He'll, **** two, have a treesome
this abuse of my speechs freedom
Must stand alone cause these dumb

Words.. This world.. needs none
cheeses of diseases...egregious,
The weedless, read this,&say; Jesus
Is he nuts? It's Needless,

deep pits, of pre-mixed, ***-*****
Three ****... Please fix
demons *****, from a **** bleedin
Fresh out yeast infected sheep *****

Where we sit&read; this,
praise Jesus Allah and people
Cause were all just quirky, evil
Good, obnoxious naive deceitful

******* with **** smells that equal
Even if not the same
We all bleed, breed and feel pain
And love a good line of *******

No wait , ****, sometimes my brain
Can't contain the stupid
Do models use the same fingers to ******* that use to puke wit?

I know.... I'm ****** useless
An abused ego bruised nuisance
Like **** pics sent to fit chicks
When they want rich pics, so do this

Take pics of a receipt that u slip
From the machine you use, if
You really wanna know, if they'll
Blow whats in the pic u send, do it

Cause she'll blow all that u fit
In the pic u send her I'm sure
And if your still reading this,
Im meanin this,u need help..a cure

Mental stability, tranquility, and
The ability, to stop the instability
Convoluted, polluted, and stupid
Literature, it can cause infertility

And psychotic, psychosomatic,
Psychosis, voodoo and neurosis
poetry roaches Eye halitosis,
To erode the road wit your soul if

You ****-inue, reading soulless
Ambivalence, so belligerent
That insolence so Insignificant
Is magnificent,

A Malignant indignant, piglet, in a
predicament, that approaches
As I ******* my immaculate *****
So swallow this osmosis

insufficient like what I've written  or Tuberculosis, and oh ****!
The oppositions mission is fixing
The risen conditions, to position

***** induced, goblin puke
Gobblin through, all of the usual
Til I'm suitable for cubicles made of pharmaceuticals ...indubitable

Now I'm awful like waffles, made in a
bra full, of a mucus' nostril
putrid puke with stomach fluids,, a used ****** u chew in brothel

It's a cross between a re-run
Of *******'delinquence&bee; dung
Don't think Im gd ppls than be one

And my wise parting words
Are not the rise of farting nerds
Or pretentious self righteousness
Of those dry and artsy jerks
Im serving lifes with this pen/
Convicted for Killing time

Im

Eternally trapped within/
For my sins
Solitarily confined
In these lines
where do I begin/
Can you read between them
It never ends/
The margin is marginal/
Carte blanch
Ive over stepped my boundaries
Broke the rule cardinal/
Now Im in an invisible/
cell feeling miserable/
My time shouldve been
More productive
This is NA    Not Applicable/
23 hours in the whole
Lost ours in part
Another 60 gone/
Thought is food
scarf down words/
Appetite absurd clearly just observe/
work the mind
Stay fit/
only way to survive inside
Mental aerobics    Various signs/
Shape it
chin up chin down equals a syllable/
My own worst enemy
My dictions     despicable/
Train everyday to enhance
Considerable/
For I know never leaving
These sentences for life/
Are habitual/
Even before I got booked
They extradited my freedom/
The right to write
When I tried to free lance
I was just free writing/
They cuffed my free hands
Life sentence to this pen
Now they want my annihilation
Too many things gone missing punctuations
Michael Marchese Mar 2017
Check the twenty-twenty fission
Adam splittin' Eden vision
Bustin' caps in gas emissions
Spittin' written ammunition
For the first-world problem chillen'
Droppin' free speech bomb sedition
On the third-world problem villain
Grand old wizards' ku klux gizzards
All white **** meat chicken dinners
Suckin' Christian dictions'
Hissin' contests over spoils
House of Slyth'rins witherin'
The shale-shock sowing soil
With Satan seeds of ignorance
Still thirsting for indifference
From money hungry London royal
Global warming blizzards
As they're bleeding dry the rivers
Into liquidating oil
Treasure buried with a shovel
In oases brought to boil
Nine eleven popped the bubble
But with Jesus in the building
Turning metal into rubble
Smelting graces into gilding
From the melting *** he's spilling
Into off-shore power drilling
Making killings on the rigging
As Mohammed was displayed
As a scary, bearded, brown-skin man
Through tricks of terrorism's trade
And God's right sleights of winning hand
Pulled rabbits from Fatah's grenade
And cooked 'em in Afghanistan
For PTSD noise parades
And hot dog chugs for Uncle Sam
To waste the land, supply demand
For ol' Osama's unmarked grave
Obama hosted-masquerade
White-washing New World fear campaign
Them masks of patriotic acts
In place as they removed Hussein
Disguised the ethnic cleanse crusade
With bush league mass destruction claims
When the caliphate they made
Went Khomeini on Iran
A stand against the David camp
Shelling bibles to qurans
So the shah's Allah mirage
Put the profits in the pockets
Of the prophet's arbitrage
Camouflage the Green Zone spans
With pyramids of Reaganomics
Tricklin' into sovereign sands
Long before heathen jihadists
Flew their kamikaze plans
Into Trump towers' blacklist fists
Of modern warfare contra *bans
I think I'm full of contra-dictions
And contra-distinctions
You disagree
But you're a Sandinista!
We're bound to clash
Puns puns puns
Richard Reid May 2018
Chills that engulf,
Fire sign love,
Lightning in writing,
this slow aching pain,
Music that bumps,
Silent cold flames,
Pointless aiming, blaming the same.
Humans.
Have you ever had an open box of cornflakes
slip out of your hands
(at the precise time you were constructing a poem in your head)
and scatter all over the kitchen
like the fragile egos of self righteous partisans
(creating a bigger mess if you trample them)
and thus, you find yourself on all fours
sweeping a recently swept floor
once more.....

We’re brought up looking for divine expedience in any mishap that happens:  
“Maslehat” they say.... there must be a hidden benefit in this!
“it’s a small loss in lieu of a bigger one that it prevented”...
....and we tune our frequencies from ambition to complacency....
year after year,
generation after generation,
till that becomes the default station.....

I even start looking at the benefits hidden in the mess at hand...
I’ve discovered crevices under the stove where my cleaner never reaches,
(now I can prepare an admonition for her
—-wouldn’t have happened without the corn flakes.... thank you!)
I imagine worse scenarios.... it could have been the bag of flour, or the spice jars .... or.... glass bottles.
The work instantly becomes less tedious, as I weigh it against shards of glass and invisible weapons of potential exsanguination....
oh shukar , shukar, shukar..... Alhamdulillah.
It’s ok, it’s only cornflakes....  

It’s only cornflakes, and my attitude.... ( that’s in question)
keeping things together, even when they’re crumbling,
cleaning up messes, and counting on second guesses,
Using crafting glue and bluetac to hold up foundations
( this doesn’t merit any recommendation!)

A friend once said, “ sometimes you have to let it break, so that you can build it better....”
but what is better, when each damage is a consecration  
that is the conundrum of creation
it’s all a substrate
it’s all a message
its all salvation
I had told my friend, “listen I don’t know how to use metaphors,
and I only have a few of my own,
will you give me some on loan?
I need them to break and remake my ache.... “
The silence meant yes.
I could take all the phrases,
all beautiful words, all dictions, all praises
In these clumsy hands, ( since the heart understands)
And if I spill them like cornflakes,
no matter what it takes,
I’ll find a way, to scoop them in a poem.

A.
20.9.18
These events actually occurred
I find myself in prison,
Imprisoned by your torrid love magic,
Though I'm been cared for,I panic,
Panicking for my charges of treason,
I dont want to leave your estactic cells,
In your confines i want to dwell,
Now and forever,
For the comfort of your gates,
Holds my shackles and chains,
And constantly depriving me of strains,
Am here alone;and glad with no inmates,
But you and me,
I pray am not arranged before court,
So i wouldnt know my times,
The days,months and years,
But if am sent to court in tears,
I will plead to your jury,
To sentence me for life,
Am afraid to lose your sight,
I cant explain this feeling,
Neither it is tacit,
But where did you come from?
My pretty monarch butterfly,
Even the flowers beseech your proboscis,
The skies rejoice with your presence,
I know words are not enough,
To explicitly express how i feels,
But i pray as i kneels,
My dictions should not bluff,
But carries my feelings,
In humility to you.
@Historian E.Lexano
Matilda Alice Nov 2016
The eunoian feeling was disrupted by the sardonic entity. Crushing and terrorizing the meraki from my soul. Taking away my will. My will to live.  My will to survive.  My will to do as I please. Because that's what toxic people do. They **** you soul out of your body through their words. Their oh so characterizing language. The dictions of *****. I'm a daydreamer and a night thinker. My soul was bound to be beautiful and spill these numinous words upon the wilted paper in the black and white text.  So you can **** my will but I will always exist in the language of my ancestors, just as they exist within me. Jokes on you depression no one decides my fate but me. So let's keep this rhythm, you'll be the king and I'll be the queen in my little psychosis induced fantasy, pretending that all is well even when society shoves "normal" down my throat. I'll be my own light.
AndrewKHill Sep 2014
I think sadness is beautiful because
I see this life I carried without the buzz.
I certainly drank a lot bringing death quicker,
But I couldn’t help it with this arsenal of liquor.
As a kid that smoked too much cigarettes,
And read enough Vonnegut, as much as he gets,
He felt happiness for too long and forgot what
It’s like to feel like ****. Chasing a girl’s ****,
Sinking himself into the sea of delirium
And avarice, his life isn’t far from our requiem.
Without divine servitude, our lives are free. Yet,
We are shackled by the fortitude of my creative debt.
It’s they we should blame, those that beat our brains
With damaging dictions, leaving our souls with stains
That can’t be washed away even with medical bleach
That doctors syphoned into my body, as far as they reach.
I am feeling anger, which will be soothed by my impending
Sadness; the finale of my emotional vicissitudes. It’s ending,
But not until I remind you that we can only feel happiness
When we allow our decaying bodies to sometimes accept sadness.
Sharina Saad Feb 2014
My ink is drying
loss for words..
my poetic mind
shrinking in its size
try few romantic lines
poetic dictions are gone
need inspiration perhaps..
Give me a hand..
my ink will be filled by you...
Look -- O’ look
The books we could be;
Seas of lumber
Slumber in dusty sleeves.
Thieves of the night
Write on our eyes;
Lies in the form of words,
Worlds in forms of home.
Some call it fiction,
Imagination calls it sanity
Gravity of our own two feet
Meet to stay alive.
“Strive” it tells me.
“Be all that you can and more.
Doors lead to windows,
Intros to the Galaxy.
Actually living more lives than one.
Undo the restrictions-
Dictions people have over you.
Few are even close
Most will never get there.
Here there is only you
Through the woods behind the books
Michael LoMonaco Jun 2018
Devised before the moment of birth,
A blueprint was created by God.

A chain of events that will take place,
Designing a predestined future that shall occur.

These trends are all part of the plan,
Setting up a test built upon virtue.

The pattern consists of many barriers,
A journey one must complete for glory.

The trail will provide two dictions,
Providing an exam based on faith.

A road which offers darkness,
And a route that provides light.

The almighty already knows your choice,
Foreseeing the quest that’s already predicted.
(Dedicated to the late Prof Chinua Achebe)


Mountain ranges in the east wind,
Like wet dew on a grass.
Amid soggy tears,
Enthusiasm denies us.

Squeal of gongs and drums
Sound throughout the land,
North and South:
Poignant blood runs through our veins.

Indeed, things have fallen apart...
Spring thunder -The Iroko has fallen!
Albert Chinualumogu Achebe.

You it was who issued the great call
For us to rebel against despotic rule.
A glittering colossus among literati,
With an esoteric mastery of proverbial dictions.

The literary luminary and patriot,
It's the very best we have had.
Storms of the societal reformation
have brought a flowering of heroes on the land.

In the wind and thunder of cultural revolution,
The rising sun casts a myriad reflections.
Achebe's thought glows golden bright,
Struggle-criticism-transformation;
flowering everywhere.

Though the dogged messenger has become silent,
The candid message-wave still dance in my ear,
I wipe warm tears from my eyes,
And press my hand to my throbbing heart,
Keeping the peerless books in my *****.

Oh yes! Achebe was here,
And we felt his magical pen.
Adieu! Great Iroko of our land.

© A. O. Nwulia Literary Diary 2013
Raihah Mior Sep 2019
Books and books
one after the other,
I shall let myself drown
in all its comfort and warmth,
and live vicariously through the lives
of these pretty paper people
that’s much more preferable,
for as long as I please

I shall hope and dream in fiction,
Sing words of poetic dictions,
Find peace of mind in metaphors,
or both hilarity and clarity
enveloped in poetries and fantasies,
Perhaps I’ll let my guard down,
and fall in everlasting love
with the men that breathe charm and ooze chivalry (Re: Dawsey Adams & Mr Darcy)

So brb world,
I'll just pore over these books
as I pour myself another cup of tea
and perhaps read another page (or two or three)
A poem for my books. And my fictional boyfriends :p
Travis Green Aug 2018
I saw your brilliant poetry inside the moonlight
its explosive beat composing its harmonies
on my framework
a jazzy scenery blazing outward and upbeat
a seamless balance
between spectacular art and exhilarating English
more like a collection of captivating dictions
leaving its imprint on the core of the universe
a slow contemplation of rich rhymes
rotating in circular motions
drumming inside my angled chest
smooth breezes drifting in the glimmering air
folding and unfolding into a starlit scenery
a patchwork of rivers rushing down a sloped stream
of electrifying passion
beyond bridge and bone
beyond commas and semicolons
drunken in stillness and creativeness
exquisite without reason
a strong sensation rising in the atmosphere
in stunning dreamwork
every delicate design wearing an extravagant frame
of blossoming attraction
Ndeego McDaniels Apr 2020
I want to inscribe this piece with a red ink like the blood
For I want people to know that I scribbled it from the depths of my heart
Perhaps, they must discern the sacrifices that I make to mix these words into a cup like tea

Or, let me write this piece with a black ink like the crab’s blood
For they must know that this came from the beliefs of a black man with history, values and culture to protect. Alas, someone must be willing to tell our story the way it was, is and will be
For western civilisations have wiped away the classics of our time embossed and engraved on our hearts across the sea

Or let me write these few words with the blue ink like we used to,
For people reading this must know, like blue is to the sky,
My writings cover the entirety of the human race.
Wait, let me brew fine words from the lexicons of the old, for within their thoughts lies philosophies and secret elixir of life, immortality of the tongue.

Wait, let me write this piece with the utmost level of sagacity, prudence and wisdom, for my children must grow to appreciate my intellect.
I wish this piece  brings  some plagues to my desk, and a travelling ticket to roam the world
So where and how should I start?

Wait, I must make sure these arguments do not offend the big men and the highest
For they clench the keys to my door of no return
Wait, let me write about the contemporary issues in town, the trending news that all are discussing, for that will sell fast and put some few bugs in my pocket
Wait, let me read wide and re-examine my dictions, for issues of copyright and plagiarism can cost me my lifetime savings.

Wait, I must examine when and how I place my metaphors, ironies and oxymorons to fit in this piece, for literature students must study my works too.
Wait, when the power comes back, prompt me, for I did not save the last paragraph I just typed.

From the chest of a writer, comes the greatest dilemma of life, like Nelly or Kelly.
Words that are sharp and powerful to divide the flesh from the bones. Within the chest are graving issues of national consent, issues that matters the most.
From the chest of a writer lingers the verdicts of our time. Words that can make or unmake a nation.
Arguments that have the potency to divide and unite the entire universe.  Peace and War.
Do you remember?
She used to word-***** at times like these

When the panic bar just got a little too high
She grabbed tight all the dictions and phrases from memories
Splattering down broken grammar and random words
Desperately knitting meaning to sentences
A terrible hoarder, she is.

Do you remember?
She did understand.

But she has lent you too many chapters of her story
Now her library looked like it was picked empty
Except for the few cardboard boxes she desperately hid behind the run-down shelves

She has led you in too many hallways
Now she wept and swept the floor with her sorrow
Scattering ripped pages of her crumpled paper heart
As she learned to be alone

Everything happens for a reason
But the night has come
And you were gone
The library has to finally sleep in
The Lion’s den- Dookwon Iswamaf.      Autobiography of the poet.                      

Born in Mali, year 2006 December 22 grew up with his father after the tragic death of his mum. Then at age five (5), travel to Sierra Leone upon the call of the mission of the unification church, where he faced a lot of tremendous challenges and obstacles as a result of the ugly damage of the organization.                
       The poet attended the Evenly’s Royal Academy for his primary level and continued his secondary studies in the Dr David Arnold high school, then finally sat his WASSCE exams at the ST. Ambrose Academy.                                                                

Dookwon’s motive for writing this poem is to systematically appeal about the past sufferings and struggling that mankind ****** at his face, and the gain of once achievements after going through deadly hardships in a chaotic environment.         Soon in odds of these request, on the 1st of October 2024 at age 17, he made a resolution of writing this poem.                    
                  

The Lion’s den.  

Stilled in the land of war,  
Built with shadows and darkness,  
Dressed with narrows and thorny paths.  

Trials and tests are no fail.  
Oh you stubborn boy, Malian born.  
Rains and sun-rays strike from plants;  
Warriors grieved  
Their own swords.  
The cloudy night and dangerous storms  
Far from over.  
Peace and love are far from reality.  
Oh you stubborn boy, Malian born.  

The den clothed in the Red Sea,  
Painful laughter and cries are known for us.  
The fearless monks appeal for bloodshed;  
Smiles the tyrannic’s impure dance.  
The last days we await.  
No more.  
Oh you stubborn boy, Malian born.  

The white doves are fierce fighters,  
The underdogs.  
And as for the plants on the sad height,  
The sun rays will come,  
And the wounded fruits will tell  
On the battle of the fists.  
Oh you stubborn boy, Malian born.  



Contexts analysis  

The background of the poem revolves around an unacceptable agony raining in a certain environment. To the extent,  the poet registered a note of protest where by the entire area of land is view as having been drowned into a great disaster called the Red Sea as illustrated in line 13 of the poem.   However, the protagonist serves as a voice of laments and regrets against the the unfairness and injustice behaviors manifested in this awful environment.                          
     So therefore in claim of these ugly satire, and negative metamorphic images like “blood shed”, shadows and darkness”,red sea”, cloudy night and dangerous storms”,are all effective and strong enough to show the protagonist believability in comparing its to the “Lion’s den “.
              EVIL AND SUFFOCATION
The poem thematically reveals the ruthless actions of the tyrannic towards his  surbodinents, and how will it’s affect the sphere of the environment and thereafter.                    
        Furthermore, these evil practices and painful cries inflicted, were used to suppress and torture the lives of these prospective victims who are in pain and agony.          The Lion here demonstrated his evil and suffocating plans through the use of spiritual powers which makes him faroushed  and untouchable despite his evil nature. In this case, the people or masses of that land suffered fearful events, such as the death of honest blood, the delay of prominent destines, the decline of future generations, and the introduction of malefic objects in product of sebeh , charms and hamelets, witches pots etc in order to create more disasters and suffering than ever before.                            
         As mentioned earlier in the third stanza of the poem that....” The den clothed into the Red Sea, painful laughters and cries are known for us, The fearless monks appeals for blood shed, Smiles the tyrannic’s impure dance. The last days we awaits, No more”. The above quotations reminds us about how perishable and evil the environment looks like in an actual face especially with the lead of a ferocious and selfish actor.                    To continue, the poet further expresses his anger and frustration on the emotional anguish suffered by these innocent people in request of their bubbling dreams.  In other words, it is rather unfortunate that these ungodly and acquit scenarios played a vital role to the submission and degrading lives of these faithful servants, making the tyrannic too powerful and threat-full to  the successful reach of their flaming fate.                                                                
      So as a result, of this calamentical avenues the environment becomes miserable and perishable in an actual face, no sign of progress is seen in reality all we know are pathetic circumstances and detorating  features appearing our ways, leaving us to grieve in fear and to wait for the “last days “ as illustrated in stanza (3).                              
      THE EXPERIENCE OF BAD LEADERSHIP.                
Leadership is not a bed for roses, but should be a field of sacrifices. The ugly experience that goes with the gandeur of power is clearly illustrated in the poem.   As a result of missues and misrule of power a cleaver call is made for a major theme capture in the poem.             There fore, the protagonist further exposes the negative impacts played by this tyrants rule to the disadvantage of all sphere of life and the environment as a whole.                
      Historically,this tyrants lion exercises his superiority and dominance over these faithful servants through evil practices, dictatorship and authoritarianism.   Thus, major aftermaths of the tyrannical governance over this entire environment, is a horror of awful and shameful experiences in the venom of its regime. Effectively, the poet further re-established his sorrow and grieve on the “shadows and darkness “ encountered by these surbodinents in provocation of their golden dreams.
As a matter of facts, their longing goals were drawned into the “Red Sea” , leaving them to perish in pain and despair through evil manipulation in result of absolute power.                                                                Unfortunately though,they have seen and witnessed their lives, reputations, futures, and stars been destroyed under the alter of selfishness and greed, the poetic personnel theologically expresses the horrible and unacceptable agony pouring on this deadly zone, terrorizing the request for success and progress in the society.   This was clearly captured in the second stanza of the poem which reads” rains and sun rays strike from plants, warriors grieved, their own swords, (lines 6,7,8).                                     The above quotations also bring light to the horrific punishment injected in the lives of these members who where discriminated, deprived, bullied, and even depressed by this tyrannic lead.               The predicaments and sufferings (shadows) undergone by these loosing servants in the hands of this worthless and ruthless being has its infinetic consequences unto today’s era. This can also observe the probability of members loosing their faith, and also creating the use of violence and disharmony as it was logically proposed that “peace and love is far from reality”.                
       Despite these ungodly experiences, the poet also regards this part of the poem as a test for these brave warriors to persevere, endure and maintain faith for the “last days” to answer their tearful prayers.                  
In sincerity, these vibrants mens before the catastrophe were aiming for prosperity and development in the land, society, and nation as a whole, breaking through their lives endeavors . The speaker nervously confirms that these imperishable hopes should remain at the corner of their bleeding hearts, for the day to achieve freedom and succeed as it was proclaimed “ And as for the plants on the sad height, the sun rays will come”.                                          Another consequence of this chaotic scenarios is dictatorship and authoritarianism. The poem is a protest poem chronicling the peak of terrors by which members with the environment were wantonly abused, spoiled and exploited by this ironic lead. The background of the poem is drowned from the 2012 change of Leadership in the Family Federation for World Peace and Unification in Sierra Leone, which set up the heat for members to be arranged in hierarchal form with their leaders in each regions of Heavenly Africa. This part therefore serves as a voice of reason and condemnation against the injustice and unfair treatment meted against these members, by this superiors. The poet executively proclaims that, the entire area of land is viewed as terrifically deadly and destroyed when he reveals that “stilled in the land of war”, describing the Kind of hardships and obstacles designed in the midst of its atmosphere including all sort of discriminations and fake documentaries pasted on the lives of these members, in protection of this communist failure’s “impure dance”. To the extent, bribery and corruption to some higher ranks of this organization created an oath for embezzlement and self interest crucially detecting  a lead to failure and crisis in the land.
            Finally, as a result of this upsetting circumstances, the poet justifies the uses of trials and tests in the poem as a course of this failing actor bringing life to all sarcastic events in the “ den” which chases prosperity and development far away from human imaginations as a result of its deadly and chaotic nature.
                THE STRONG DESIRE FOR SUCCESS.    
Despite these disgusting scenarios suffered by these inferiors in the hands of this communist monster, the poet emphasizes on a sign of courage that these members will greatly succeed through this horrific conditions and they will do so in memories of those affliction in which their innocent blood is shed for the sake of growth and development: as it was impressed in stanza 3”The den clothed into the Red sea,painful laughters and cries are known for us, the fearless monks appeals for blood shed”(line 14 and15).                                                      
         As introduced earlier in the second theme that, these innocent victims before the disaster were living in a strong desire for greatness guided by progress of purpose through their lives endeavors. The speaker further confirms that these miserable servants of that land will emerge as a great personalities that can help greatly in Our “Heavenly Parents” providence in the future and will attain there golden dreams as he describes them as “plants” in the poem meaning prominent individuals.
         The poem continuously surveys the dotted amount of redemption left in the consciousness of these honest bloods and further prescribe that” And as for the plants on the sad height”, the sun rays will come”( line 22 and 23). The protagonist then continued to raise a claim on the torture and emotional anguish which he feels about this pathetic land and it’s intolerable situation which is vividly evident in the burning tears of the poem.                
   In the poem’s concluding stanza, Dookwon reiterates these helpless slaves will that they should conquer the obstacles through this dead zone and wait for the right moments called the “last days “.
    IMAGERIES AND SYMBOLISM.
So as it identify in the poem, lines (1-5) can be considered as the poet introductory paragraph and lines (6-21) as the narrative, and finally lines (22-25) is the poet’s end of speech.                                                      For example, “stilled in the land of war” create a definate precision about this environment deadly aspect and struggles about it’s life sphere. And the second phrase says “ Built of shadows and darkness” symbolizes the sufferings and struggles implanted in these humble servants avenues and the unfortunate outcomes for their agonistic paths.
           Another important imagery is “rains and sun rays are strike from plants, The cloudy night and dangerous storms, Far from over” lines (6,9-10). The above rewards the shocking caious displayed by this tyrants rule in order to cease all success and progress in hand of this prominent( plants) as he taniches their reputations to the HQ of it’s movement.
         Anxiously, the significant must be mentioned as (line 13,14,15-16) that delivers the chaotic and unbearable calamities befallen the land, as a result of the tyrannic’s impure dance implied in the “den”.(“The den clothed into the Red Sea, Painful laughters and cries know for us, The fearless monks appeals for blood shed, Smiles the tyrannic impure dance”).
    According to the poetic views of it’s concluding stanza, a minimum amount of hope is detected in the bleeding grasses of this chaotic land for the “ last days “ to bring in the light that chases the darkness through a trapping tunnel as it’s precisely says”And as for the plants on the sad height, the sun rays will come, And the wounded fruits will tell on the battle of the fists”( line 22,23-24).
            DICTIONS OF WORDS
This part of the poem reminds us about the choice of words used to express the grief the poet. In addition, the form of the poet is pathetic in nature.
Moreover, the poet’s expression and choice of words used to describe the environmental catastrophe is sensitively declared through these choices of words:
Darkness- sufferings
Shadows - struggles
Rains - progress      
Sun rays- success
Plants- prominent individuals
Warriors- ordinary masses
Swords- hope                            Cloudy night- discrimination
Dangerous storms- criticism
Red Sea - Disasters
Painful laughters- Evil mockeries
Fearless monks- Elders
Blood shed- Evil sacrifices
Impure dance- malefic games           The last days- The ultimate change   The white doves- The corruptive leaders
The underdogs-The underrates
Wounded fruits - unborn generation
Battle of the fists- The story.
      TONE OR MOOD OF WRITER
The protagonist’s mood in writing this poem is dearly testified by the poem’s drastic metaphors, causing the poet to become mourning , sorrowful, and hopeful in writing this poem.
       SETTINGS AND STRUCTURE OF THE POEM.
“The Lion’s Den” was set in Sierra Leone, Freetown at night by 20:00(GMT) in the rainy season
Date:1st October 2024.
          STRUCTURE OF THE POEM
The poem is made up of 4 stanzas with 25 lines. The first stanza is a quintet which includes five lines. The second is a septet, which is also for the third stanza. And the last stanza consist of six lines which is called a sextet, the poem is also consist of epic proportions and inward rhymes creating a tension of despair in this context. Eventually, the poem is known as an ugly satire because of it’s pathetic nature.
       POETIC DEVICES
Alliteration:this is found within the first line of the poem showing the reputation of the sound of”w”showing the weight of war.Alliteration is also find in line (4) which says “Trials and Test are no fail” emphasizing the use of “t”.         Finally line(10) collect the repetition of “f” by declaring far from over.          Metaphor:is found in the second, thirteen and twenty second lines in the poem which detect “ built of shadows and darkness,the den clothed into the redsea, the sun rays will come “.        
Symbolism:line 3__”dressed with narrows and throny paths”.                  
Paradox:as unsealed in line(4) of the poem with the words “trials and tests” describing the inevitable challenges in that landscape.                    
Personification:in the various lines it’s has been examined of personification things and places giving human qualities in order to create a most intense and pathetic atmosphere starting with lines:6,16
and 24 which says that “rains and sun rays are strike from plants, smiles the tyrannic’s impure dance,and the wounded fruits will tell on the battle of the fists”.
Imagery:invoked in the first,third, seventh,ninth,twenty-third, and twenty fouth lines of the poem symbolizing a forbidden atmosphere in that entire land scape.
Metonymy:found in line (8) of the poem as it’s reads “their own swords” symbolizing war in a form of lies against innocents souls.
Juxtaposition:”peace and love is far from reality,The fearless monks appeals for blood shed”...( line 11-15). Showing the contradiction of the writer’s world.
Contrast:The juxtaposition of(rains and sun rays coming together implies the duality of hope as noted in line 7.
Oxymoron:this is juxtaposed in line 14 which appeals that “painful laughters and cries are known for us”. This creates joy and sorrow at the same time in the poem.
Ambiguity:
In line 17 we can see that both the end of sufferings and finality is aimed for in the phrase as it’s claims that”The last days we awaits “ suggesting a ******.
Irony: in terms of this figurative device we clearly observe such in line 20 where in the protagonist uses the white doves as an irony in order to manifest the contracting actions of these corrupt leaders who hereby contribute greatly to the destruction of the providence.
Characterization: these is updated from line 21 which creates an oppressive tone uploaded on the lives of these members making them to feel rejected and worthless as the poet declared them as “underdogs”.
Repetition: Declared in line (5,12,19,25) giving a deadly impression about an entire landscape who sounds been in a great explosion as he repeatedly sounds his identity and nationality in sign of regrets.

       POEM’S RESOLUTION

This story peaks out the saying that “After the tunnels is the sunshine”i.e In all stages of life, there’s no success without tears.
May God help the providence in Sierra Leone

— The End —