JUST SEX and POETRY

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#7509 Jun 19, 2013
SUBLIMELY DeVINE wrote:
<quoted text>
A friend is a lot of things, but a critic isn't.
Chick, any critic is entitled to wrong judgments, of course. But certain lapses of judgment indicate the radical failure of an entire sensibility.
Reported.

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#7511 Jun 19, 2013
SUBLIMELY DeVINE wrote:
Feel the memory burn a flame
under your skin and holes into your bones
that all the other memories seem to slip through.
I’ve felt a tidal wave of fingertips
scratching at the inside of my skull to peel
the pastel ocean green and robin blue
wallpaper of pretend happiness down,
I wish to truly feel the strike of suffer
squished between my fingers and toes,
I want to breathe the stifling and putrid and toxic and musty and dusty
melancholy in, as sleepy as it is.
I want to wear the words you spoke around my own
fingers and beat myself with the absurdity of them,
and be bruised by the palpable echoes.
I want to observe with thoughtful speculation
the colors God painted your eyes, with these eyes
I’ve kept closed for so long, curtained away
and shut off from the world of nostalgia that dwells
inside the skull on my own neck. I wish to reopen
pandora’s infamous box, and rediscover the dreadful
death of the cat by curiosity’s murderous hand,
because I’ve drank from the mug labelled ‘happiness’
and the sweetness became diluted and the spark became flat
and the warmth went cold and the feeling it left in my stomach
wasn’t the sober pang of truth.
and I’d rather fill my insides with marbles of dissatisfaction
than with the ashes of hope,
with the burnt remains of a childhood dream,
with false testimonies from a TV ad filmed in the 80’s.
I’ll save a sliver of fantasy, a thumbnail sized garden
of faith that will constantly bloom and sprout and rebirth
the same distasteful poison known simply as optimism
to bleed briefly into everyday disbeliefs and uncertainties.
and I wouldn’t call myself a pessimist or realist
or any of those modern classifications of someone who thinks too much
I’m not a buddha, much less a fundamentalist
but I do lay the foundation to my own path and it’s paved with apathy.
and it’s paved with realism and romanticized reality
and it’s paved with failure and lined with doubt
and for those who see this and wonder and scrutinize and sympathize
I’d rather my gray stones that lead to my grave, alone,
than your disney infused fake plastic path complete
with a high fence of security leading straight into the mouth of a manufactured lie
I’m sick of vomiting your laughter and praise and cheerleading
at the feet of our failing society.
I’d rather walk this truth alone than be escorted down a path of warped and
perverted lies.
I have eyes and know our understanding has been placed behind a warbled peice
of glass too thick for our pupils to actually observe.
so we’ve taken what we see.
and now we’ve called it truth.
and so I’ve lit the flame and placed it under my skin to smoke all the other theories out
and i feel it blacking my bones and leaving marks that will only be found
long after I’ve already reached the gate at the end of my stones
and maybe those conclude as my eulogy,
if not an epiphany for anybody but me.
whatever they are I wont waste a single breath without the subtle ache of them
wont numb the slow prodding pain with phoney evangelicalism here, by the one who calls herself a Princess...HEY, give me a fucking break.....
I do not wish to rewrite the bible to suit my individual beliefs and then claim it as the true word of god
because jesus would’ve sat with me and that’s all the faith I need
to live without your eyes colors, your words as rings wrapped bleeding around my knuckles
to live and face the odd shaped bruises each of your genuine rings left by my own hand
to bleach my thoughts pure and clean and void of the insanity that joy comes from outside ourselves.
I’ve washed my doubt inside and out and this is the remainder.
Reported.

Laura Beth

Since: Aug 09

Location hidden

#7515 Jun 19, 2013
Check_ Your_ Pulse wrote:
<quoted text>
You are correct again Trish, the game is over. I do hope that you stop the games you are currently playing on this forum.
I am hard pressed at this moment to feel sorry for you when YOUR behavior has put you in the situation you find yourself in at this moment.
Your behavior is unhealthy an until you CHOOSE to stop playing games I have no desire to continue correspondence with you at any level.
You owe a great many individuals apologies. I hope you are woman enough to give them.
You have come to this forum registered and unregistered. You have used that position to start arguments between individuals by pretending to be someone other than yourself.

You have several registered accounts that you use at your discretion.

If you refuse to speak to me with anything other than the truth then know my ears are closed to you in the future.

Explain yourself yesterday and do not pretend you have no idea what I am speaking of. Because for you do that you are implying that I am unaware of the games you have been playing with people on here and I assure you I am not.
LOL.....

“Want A Friend, Be One”

Level 9

Since: Mar 12

Smiling :o) all the way....

#7519 Jun 19, 2013
Some day we'll forget the hurt, the reason we cried and who caused us pain.We will finally realize that the secret of being free is not revenge, but letting things unfold in their own way and own time.After all, what matters is not the first, but the last chapter of our life which shows how well we ran the race.So smile,laugh,
forgive,believe and love all over again....

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#7523 Jun 20, 2013
POET LAUREATE DeVINE wrote:
The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
As he beats of Humanity wrapped in a shroud.
Well he beats of the bone bags Dame Famine’s designed
As she ravished and plagued us since dawn of mankind;
And he beats of Lord Boss letting oranges decay
While a child suffers scurvy and passes away;
And he beats of the beasts we’ve so needlessly slain
And of critters and creatures cast off in distain;
And he beats of combatants who’re dying deceived
As the merchants of murder count profits received;
And he beats of the rape and the killing of war
And the mind blinding sorrow we blithely ignore.
He beats and he pounds till our consciences gnaw
And his fingers are battered and bloody and raw
And his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.
The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
As he beats of abuse that we try to becloud.
Well he beats of the barons and princes and kings
Who have broken our backs while crushing our wings
And he beats of the bribes that the powerful make
To key politicians who fawn in their wake;
And he beats of the waifs bound and chained to machines
And of slaves in the fields and other such scenes;
And he beats of decrees stating all men are free
While ignoring the blacks and their agonised plea;
And he beats of the tyrants in clerical garb
Who have tortured with faggots and thumbscrews and barb.
He beats and he pounds till revealing the flaw
And his fingers are battered and bloody and raw
And his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.
(Continued........)
Reported.

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#7524 Jun 20, 2013
POET LAUREATE DeVINE wrote:
.....The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
As he beats of the strength of the rebels so proud.
Well he beats of the spirit the rack couldn’t break,
And the flame of the flesh that was burned at the stake;
And he beats of the minds that could never be chained
By the faith that was living while ignorance reigned;
And he beats of the struggles when Spartacus rose
Having tired of shackles and slavery’s woes;
And he beats of the women who’ll die to be freed
And will never give up till they finally succeed;
And he beats of the progress outliving the jeers
So belying the pessimist’s fatuous sneers.
He beats and he pounds till we stand back in awe
And his fingers are battered and bloody and raw
And his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.
The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
As he beats of the sights that he’s seen from a cloud.
Well he beats of the meadows pale yellow and green
And of lakes in a wood and a river serene;
And he beats of the passion when lovers have lain
With their bodies entwined midst a field of lush grain;
And he beats of the joy when a mother has smiled
While she’s nursing her baby, her newly born child;
And he beats of the sorrow upwelling inside
Leaving shadows and ruins when loved ones have died;
And he beats of faint images haunting his dream
Of a time when compassion and love reign supreme.
He beats and he pounds till we see what he saw
And his fingers are battered and bloody and raw
And his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.
*
The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
And he beats of Humanity wrapped in a shroud
And he beats of abuse that we try to becloud.
And he beats of the strength of the rebels so proud so proud.
And he beats of the sights that he’s seen from a cloud.
And he beats and he pounds till our consciences gnaw
And he beats and he pounds till revealing the flaw
And he beats and he pounds till we stand back in awe
And he beats and he pounds till we see what he saw
And his fingers are battered and bloody and raw
And his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.
And his hands are all broken ... and bleeding ... and raw ...
&#61443;
Reported.

“It's a secret”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

Or maybe I just forgot!!

#7539 Jun 20, 2013
Dude?!!?

How can you call yourself Poet laureate DeVine...

Copy and paste dude don't make you a poet...

Sup Pie???

“It's a secret”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

Or maybe I just forgot!!

#7545 Jun 20, 2013
Dude?!?

At least put a different plagiarized poem on each thread...how original is that???

True....I've lost all respect for you dude!!!

:)

“It's a secret”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

Or maybe I just forgot!!

#7554 Jun 21, 2013
Devine is...

A net ready to fall on some unsuspecting

Rotten to the core..says he's 22..sends out a picture of a very handsome young man..

Can't find an acceptable lady there at home..

Comes to offbeat to look for some...

Ladies...Beware!!

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#7555 Jun 21, 2013
POET LAUREATE DeVINE wrote:
She said.....
"I told you I want you.
to f uck me
maybe
I was high
(and a little wet, perhaps)
you just looked at my naked,aching body
and smiled
you then came
inside of me
je t'aime
oh .... oh.... mon amour...... aahh...
moi non plus
you come and go
you come, usually
between my bruised thighs
I told you I want you inside of me.
As I was thinking at the other one
the one they call DeVine....
saying
he would
f uck me
all morning
long and strong.
you get me now?"
Reported.
Hmm

New York, NY

#7565 Jun 23, 2013
Laura Beth wrote:
<quoted text>LOL.....
Is one then to believe you have not been guilty of the same endeavors Laura Beth.

If so, then you assume individuals are blind to your games my dear.

Now, please do call me pie or Trish or someone that you have conjured up in that vivid imagination of yours.

Laura Beth

Since: Aug 09

Location hidden

#7566 Jun 23, 2013
Hmm wrote:
<quoted text>Is one then to believe you have not been guilty of the same endeavors Laura Beth.

If so, then you assume individuals are blind to your games my dear.

Now, please do call me pie or Trish or someone that you have conjured up in that vivid imagination of yours.
I don't know what you are talking about , but than again neither do you . Lol

Level 8

Since: Jun 08

Location hidden

#7568 Jun 23, 2013
TJubilee wrote:
<quoted text>
That's what Beth is here for.
oh shut up pie!! you are talking rubbish as usual....
Hmm

New York, NY

#7569 Jun 23, 2013
Laura Beth wrote:
<quoted text>
I don't know what you are talking about , but than again neither do you . Lol
How presumptuous of you to assume I don't know what I am talking about Laura Beth. I expected nothing less from you as you are the Queen of assumptions. Carry on my dear..........

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#7571 Jun 23, 2013
Gnome dePlume wrote:
<quoted text>
You're just as Clueless, racy and Off Topic.
Reported.
SLACK

United States

#7572 Jun 23, 2013
Gnome dePlume wrote:
<quoted text>
You're just as Clueless, racy and Off Topic.
sup adrain

“ROCK ON ROCKERS!!”

Level 8

Since: Mar 11

Rockin' USA ;)

#7573 Jun 23, 2013
Mister_ E wrote:
Devine is...
A net ready to fall on some unsuspecting
Rotten to the core..says he's 22..sends out a picture of a very handsome young man..
Can't find an acceptable lady there at home..
Comes to offbeat to look for some...
Ladies...Beware!!
OMG!! THE MALE Model.. That Adrian USED years earlier for his Avatar...HULK CITY!!...WOW!!.
Yeah, Weeeee KNOW...He's An OLD GEEZER....BUT, HE IS the Residential POET of Offbeat!!

BUT. GOOD ADVICE... Chicks...Don't get taken in!!!
Full time troll

United States

#7576 Jun 23, 2013
Reported.

“ROCK ON ROCKERS!!”

Level 8

Since: Mar 11

Rockin' USA ;)

#7577 Jun 23, 2013
ADRIAN...YOU are Hip Hopping your poems of Rap...the POOR PITY ME...TONE!!

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#7579 Jun 23, 2013
A D R I A N De V I N E wrote:
I walk the empty road of hurried days
the dark holds opportunities
that the light burns through.
Nerves have been narcissistic
in that self-loathing battering
that I promised you I wouldn't commit to again.
Is it different if you're a witness?
Hiding isn't part of the agenda,
if you could call irrationality an agenda.
Here's to touching upon a few points
in which I don't show all sides.
I'm nervous to talk to the people
who make me happy
and I'm jaded to their presence,
because I'm a modern-day Gatsby
with a touch of bukowski (or maybe a slam)
and all I want is for
this romantic inside of me
to give up on the struggle
and give in.
I want to let her form allude me
because it's not important,
she just wants recognition
for the fact that she has an education
and knows how to use it.
I'm just going to let my words
smash onto the page, maybe edit
before a show, maybe not.
Probably go drink a beer
on the local trail
and stare at the back
yards of the wealthy
and sharpie in an eye ball
on the cement brick on which
I set my empty bottle for company,
because flowers don't get far in foam.
Nostalgia here we are again,
this time there's no search for meaning,
I know you completely
and ever since we've met
you've refused to let go
(somewhat of a curse, yet I love you).
If I want to let myself be free,
then I have to let go of other folks' conviction.
If maybe for a second I didn't think of what others thought about me
and I didn't think about them
to occupy the empty space, then I would
truly return to the person
I was before my self-esteem plummeted
beneath all that I knew to be right and wrong.
Before it hurt to write my feelings
because of the fear that what I wrote
wouldn't be good enough, or long enough,
no matter how many compliments came shooting through me.
"I forgot, you're bad at accepting compliments."
I don't want that to be true,
I don't want to beat myself up
over the fact that someone else
has great wisdom simply
because I am blind of my own.
Self-love, here I come,
it'll help me live life without tangles.
Keepin' crazy, as usual
stream of consciousness
thought I'd lost it, here's
something for the soul, I
appreciate all who accept
whatever it is I'm doing.
I guess one would call it:
Being.
Reported.

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