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5,481 - 5,500 of 5,780 Comments Last updated Jul 19, 2014

“So many loons”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

so little time!!

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#7614
Jun 26, 2013
 

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dame = name
Oh No Not Again

United States

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#7615
Jun 26, 2013
 

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INIQUITOUS wrote:
black & blue
as the scissor handles
on a hospital desk
outside the x-ray room
where a scared boy
waits for his best friend
to emerge safely
six sickly pink
as the sutures
outlining her kneecap
and the pale
as anesthesia
filling up her irises
black and blue
as the waterfall
of markings
cascading down
sheer breastbone
to pool in my belly-button
brown
as the split blue moon
on ice, and darker as
the curls still unable
to rival the vehemence
of your stare
black and blue
as the smeared ink
of broken contracts
bound to my skin
in sheets
lacking hue
as the morning after
and the murmured reminder
to forget all about it
seeping from your pores,
as tainted honey
from bees beaten
blue and black
into blindness
Bye Bye Now

United States

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#7616
Jun 26, 2013
 

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2

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2

INIQUITOUS wrote:
I am a quill pen dipped in soul-black pitch.
You are my notebook.
I open you and begin to inscribe your pages.
Fuc k love....... We make poetry.
I kiss memories from your forehead and swallow them whole,
smoothing the lines that housed them. We make each other younger.
Our bodies grind together like clock gears to turn back time
because what we're doing is timeless, ancient and futuristic, holy,
our lips and tongues clasped like hands in prayer,
flesh bitten and held like communion wafers,
your fluids wine to my tongue.
I smell salvation in your sweat.
You taste like autumn, your body exploding
in bursts of fire and gold as my tongue searches your curves,
seeking renewal as I penetrate you in an act of gentle violence,
and each thrust is Excalibur extracted from the stone.
King me.
Let's roll around in the dirt until we make it clean,
transform our spinning bodies into drills
aimed for the heat of the earth's core
just to make it seem cool by comparison.
Let's shave the moon's pussy and go down on her together,
stick our tongues through stars to make them numb
just to feel the pins and needles when we kiss each other
back to life, our lips double stitched with iron twine.
Let me be the lightning that splits your clouds,
your rain pouring out to a standing ovation of thunderclaps.
Let me drown in your flood, my lungs full to bursting
with just a fraction of your beauty.
Let me inhale you.
Let me be Oedipus to your Mother Earth.
I swear I'll be the brightest son.
Nestled in my arms for shelter, you whisper,
"No more metaphors, baby.........”
Reported

“The Queen Of Points”

Level 9

Since: Mar 12

My Purple Crown To Prove It

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#7617
Jun 26, 2013
 

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Dear Friend..I wish for you..
Comfort on difficult days
Smiles wehn sadness intrudes
Rainbows to follow the clouds
Laughter to kiss your lips
Sunset to warm your heart
Gentle Hugs when your spirit sags
Friendships to brighten your being
Beauty for your eyes to see
Confidence when you are in doubt
Faith so that you can believe
Patience to know yourself
Courage to accept the truth and
Love to complete your life.
I wish for you all these things and many many more...God bless all of you..

“The Queen Of Points”

Level 9

Since: Mar 12

My Purple Crown To Prove It

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#7625
Jun 26, 2013
 

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God will not allow a trial to come into your life unless he has a purpose.The storms are there for a reason...

Level 5

Since: Mar 13

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#7633
Jun 27, 2013
 

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Certainly is a lot of name dropping going on in here.
You think that's okay, Ha? Do you have their permission to do so?

Damn you sometimes! You make it difficult to act with ones Heart towards another that is sooooo elusive yet so outfreakinspoken.
:[

Level 5

Since: Mar 13

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#7637
Jun 27, 2013
 

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INIQUITOUS wrote:
Trundling through the Room of Word,
The crude remarks and the young absurd,
They come an go, no valedictory speech,
Just to and fro, a vestige for each.
So I sit and I stare, with a nihilist prayer,
And I screw my heart to the sticking place,
Left alone in the quietude, left alone in a private mood,
No crude remarks for a tired face.
So I sit and I stare, yes, I sit and I stare,
screen boring me holes for eyes,
I wait and I dare, my words in the air,
The atmosphere sets and dries -
The atmosphere sets and it dies.
I'll wait there,'do something, accompany me'
I'll wait there, like waiting for a train.
But once I've waited, no latened, loving response belated,
I tire of this melancholy station,
I'm alone in the Room 'o' Words, my company split to fifths and thirds,
It's time for another, emotional vacation.
I felt those words DeVine.:)

**what is it with my facination for the badboys**

Level 5

Since: Mar 13

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#7638
Jun 27, 2013
 

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You know it just dawned on me ... I like those that don't preach to others. Yes, that's it. Badboys aren't known to preach to others and even if they were to ... they know we wouldn't take them all that serious. Haha

Have a Day :)

Level 5

Since: Mar 13

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#7641
Jun 27, 2013
 

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Yesterday passed so quickly, today drags on and tomorrow ... there may be no tomorrow. No need for explanations when a day never known in our presense.

Blahblahblah

Haha

I'm having a good day ... I'm making darn sure of it. Still a bit in the air as to what ... I should do to prepare for tomorrow. God help me I'm not anxious for a lot of them.:O

Knock Knock ... who's there?

“The Queen Of Points”

Level 9

Since: Mar 12

My Purple Crown To Prove It

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#7643
Jun 27, 2013
 

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May God's opinion matter a whole lot more to you than man's opinion.May his dreams for you speak louder than your fears.May his forgiveness wash over every sin from your past,and may you rise up in the knowledge that hes made your branch new,through and through.No spot or stain on you.Rest well tonight...

“ROCK ON ROCKERS!!”

Level 8

Since: Mar 11

Rockin' USA ;)

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#7645
Jun 27, 2013
 

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INIQUITOUS wrote:
But oh that time kept moving,
And though my truth was not forsaken,
Still by that sleight of hand from me,
My first true love was taken.
And so the tides then turned,
And on my broken bloodstained path,
Truth became necessity,
As my sadness turned to wrath.
Each step to love a testament,
I searched to find its missing beauty,
But it was only in that darkness now,
That I’d fulfill this primal duty.
So when I came upon the crossroads,
As humans do from time to time,
I knew which path to choose,
Despite the riddles in the rhyme.
And there I stood all by myself,
Nothing but a flame of hope inside,
And then I stepped into the darkness,
To save the truth from evil’s lies.
Yo AZZDRAIN...WHO"S poem did ya swipe this TIME???

“ROCK ON ROCKERS!!”

Level 8

Since: Mar 11

Rockin' USA ;)

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#7649
Jun 27, 2013
 
INIQUITOUS wrote:
<quoted text>
Chick, We fear death, we shudder at life’s instability, we grieve to see the flowers wilt again and again, and the leaves fall, and in our hearts we know that we, too, are transitory and will soon disappear. When artists create poetry and thinkers search for laws and formulate thoughts, it is in order to salvage something from the great dance of death, to make something that lasts longer than we do.
It is not my purpose to become each other; it is to recognize each other, to learn to see the other and honour him or her for what he/she is: each the other’s opposite and complement.
All existence seemed to be based on duality, on contrast. Either one was a man or one was a woman, either a wanderer or sedentary burgher, either a thinking person or a feeling person-no one could breathe in at the same time as he breathed out, be a man as well as a woman, experience freedom as well as order, combine instinct and mind. One always had to pay for one with the loss of the other, and one thing was always just as important and desirable as the other.
Just how mysterious this life was, how deep and muddy its waters ran, yet how clear and noble what emerged from them.
One thing, however, did become clear to me – why so many perfect works of art did not please me at all, why they were almost hateful and boring to me, in spite of a certain undeniable beauty.
Workshops, churches, and palaces were full of these fatal works of art; I had even helped with posting some of these here myself.
They were once deeply disappointing because they aroused the desire for the highest and did not fulfill it. They once lacked the most essential thing – mystery. That was what dreams and truly great works of art had in common: mystery.
Is this YOUR Art of Mystery...OR Another's??
Full time troll

Lake Cormorant, MS

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#7650
Jun 27, 2013
 

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INIQUITOUS wrote:
You declare you see me dimly
through a glass which will not shine,
though I stand before you boldly,
trim in rank and making time.
You do own to hear me faintly
as a whisper out of range,
while my drums beat out the message
and the rhythms never change.
Equality, and I will be free.
You announce my ways are wanton,
that I fly from woman to woman,
but if I’m just a shadow to you,
could you ever understand?
We have lived a painful history,
we know the shameful past,
but I keep on marching forward,
and you keep on coming last.
Take the blinders from your vision,
take the padding from your ears,
and confess you’ve heard me crying,
and admit you’ve seen my tears.
Hear the tempo so compelling,
hear the blood throb through my veins.
Yes, my drums are beating nightly,
and the rhythms never change.
Equality, and I will be free.
REPORTED.

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

New York, NY

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#7653
Jun 28, 2013
 

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2

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INIQUITOUS wrote:
<quoted text>
*
*
*
*
"WELL, WHOSE POEM IS THIS ?"
This poem’s about what’s in between, this part’s
the piece got left out.
Crawled up to the roof where calmness is. A
gal’s up there, kind and cool, soft and
warm and vague — didn’t trust me.
In my room: dump trucks heave along, dragging
dreams through potholes. Oil-burning “steam shovels”
unearth me at devilish dawn, pound the 8 X 12-foot ground,
pluck me from the floorboards, with crooked steel teeth
— and fling.
This dream lives life in secret;
rectangled in a cupboard; a thing pretzel-bawdy,
its mouth at its crotch and a scald-pipe
collars the throat.
This poem’s about what’s in between, the
bit unmentioned, put neat-to-the-side.
On the table: an eaves trough-vase holds sculpture of
tough-skin-slicing weeds — rumex crispus L.— grew in a
dry oasis beneath the expressway. These weeds
proclaim the Dot. And a bricked-in, coal-chunked,
wall-eyed cot railroads fright from me, in a
room’s as trusted, big-busted, nut-clamped and
break-necked as within is the rattled world without.
This poem can’t take the hint. Ignored, dropped,
still it’s self-propelled on a head of fumes.
At last, this poem describes the face in shadow,
turned toward an ancient painted place,
filthy t-shirt stretched across
cave-bound eyes like tissue of silk.
This poem’s what’s behind the shrapnel mask,
it records the dear loss of the fake and you the fool.
This poem wrote itself,........
and now it gladly ends.
Reported.

“So many loons”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

so little time!!

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#7654
Jun 28, 2013
 

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INIQUITOUS wrote:
We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.
Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.
We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love’s light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.
- Maya Angelou.
Sup pie???

Look out ladies

the pervert is back.

Sad state..been banned twice in a week

All his posts removed.

comes back here because he has no life

other than trying to beguile and betray

To upset and dismay to trap and bring sorrow.

Worthless scum of the finest kind.

“The Queen Of Points”

Level 9

Since: Mar 12

My Purple Crown To Prove It

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#7655
Jun 28, 2013
 

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Good friends care for each other, close friends understand each other, but true friends stay forever, beyond words, beyond distance, beyond time!!!!!:O)

“So many loons”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

so little time!!

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#7667
Jun 29, 2013
 

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Weirdo...get a life.

You're a psycho...

“So many loons”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

so little time!!

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#7669
Jun 29, 2013
 

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Ayup wrote:
<quoted text>
You are a weirdo and look more psycho that the poet does. You are here day and night and the only decent thing you have to offer is music. No original thoughts and when we do witness them you look like a small minded man playing little games everywhere you go. You are a trollscumbag! You appear to need a life.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v =e8UJ9vD3dX4XX
Who cares Pie???

As long as the women know you're out to get them...I'm good..

I couldn't care less what you have to say..

:)

“So many loons”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

so little time!!

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#7670
Jun 29, 2013
 

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The icons say I'm spot on..lol

What a loon?!?

Hot Pursuit!!!

cyuk cyuk..right flash????
David

Pioneer, CA

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#7671
Jun 29, 2013
 

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The icons? There is no reasoning with a small minded person like you, is there? It's good to note there are decent men out here and Mister E, you are not one of them. No, I'm not Pie.

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