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rami malek won't bite the dust says freddie by low, gate

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While we stay silent

While we stay silent
The fight is going on
In Chicago, Los Angeles, New York
The West Indies
And the Lebanon
All over the world
There is a tale to tell
Of some living in paradise
Whilst others live in hell

Its not a random stumple
Nor a twist of faith,But a master plan.
By those who seek power
Over those who plod along
Its not an illusion, but what is felt
When we are blessed with riches 
But cannot share the wealth

But what is ego without a plan?
What is salvation,
when we fail to understand?
Reparation of the soul is a must
If its redemption we seek 
And god we trust
When reality rears its ugly head
When babies are born 
And cannot be fed
When wars are started
And nothing is said
About the wounded, paralysed and the dead

Mothers lie down and plea
Gun powder crying out in the atmosphere
Tormenting my ear
Some even bow down on bent knees
They feel the pain and ask for mercy
In the anguish and suffering , they bite the dust
The TV the object
Perpetuating the fact
That humanity has taken a detour
On a roundabout
When we fail to act

From the lack of knowledge
We fail to see
That when we are united
We end depravity
To grow and prosper, in pastures green
That what was hidden is now seen
The truth for what it is
When we exist, and fail to live
When they are taking, and cannot give
Of time and thinking
Of mutual living, coexisting.
With love and hope
Not based off trickery and false hope







 













Copyright © Reggae Magnet | Year Posted 2018


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Let Your Light Shine

Let Your Light Shine
By Curtis Johnson

It’s true that we are different, but life can be tough for all of us
No matter who we are, we all shall one day bite the dust

So take your liberty to debate and disagree, to fuss and discuss
Let’s exercise our freedom of speech and argue if we must

There are some things we must stand up against and fight                                                                                          It’s not just It's not a fight to prove who’s wrong and who’s right 
It’s one way to supply the world with salt and light  

It’s also another way to separate the night from the day
It’s another way to keep the darkness in its place
It’s another way to give hope to the human race     

I tell you, we must be brave, bold, and not run away and hide
Never giving chance and opportunity for an evil and rising tide

May our voices be heard, never giving sway to the absurd
May we step forward and cast our vote while there is still hope
cj01192012


Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015


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I am a Dandelion

Why would I want to be a flower
when I can smell as sweet?
Why would I want to be an ephemeral spectacle
when I can be an eternal bloom with love within?
Why would I want to wilt and wither
and bite the dust?

But if I have to, I'll be a DANDELION!
Invincible, unconstrained, conspiring with
the wind to spread my domain 
of golden-yellow flowery quilt
over the lawns and the meadows
as far as the eyes can see.

Slighted, ignored, untended, 
I still flourish unabashed,
Teasing, mocking playfully--
An unrelenting pain in the butt!

Flower: Dandelion = Lion's tooth
"Picture yourself as a flower" contest by Andrea Dietrich


Copyright © Abdul Malik | Year Posted 2015


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Unquotable quotes: Addictions: Smokes, Drugs, Sex, Films and Sleep - XL, Part One

Unquotable quotes: Addictions: Smokes, Drugs, Sex, Films and Sleep – XL

Where the hand leads, the eyes close.
When the eyes shut, imagination is on fire.
What you don’t really see is what you feel.
When you feel at ease you fool yourself.
No joy is real until the pain is turned on.
If the pain digs in, illusion becomes reality.
What’s real never fails to be distasteful.
Pray on your knees, the head’ll rejoin them.
Habit makes all things equally legitimate.
All one asks for is a little bit of nothing:
A chance to loop the loop on the tangent.
When you fall asleep, you forget yourself.
When you wake up, you re-mind yourself.
Sleep forever in dreams, never to wake 
         O! Happy Happy the Day!

Tobacco consumes itself when lit up emitting hot air, smoke and stench, leading to cough, consumption and cancer ; so does sex with the difference the more you do it, the more the gum comes unstuck.

If you suck on a cigarette, cigar or pipe and fail to puff on it again and again, it will go out on you, so will your partner, however much he or she says…

The film industry before the sixties thrived on making its actors chainsmoke at every appearance ; since then it has added violent, bestial, sadistic sexual acts to its répertoire. What’s left ? Paedophilia or Incest or copulating with animals?

Who made sexual preoccupation a figment of the imagination ? Should women not entice once in a season and men knock themselves out for the privilege of siring the harem ? 

How does the other guy or gal know what size fits – until they have tried them all at least just once ? And have tried and tested them on tarmac, tree-trunk, bitumen, gravel, lofty stool, back-seat, bumpy bus, ferris wheel, crashing train, stair-case, kitchen-sink and toilet to boot ?

If the week had 6 days and the weak-end 9, the population of the world will return to the wild old filthy cave-dwelling days.

Beat the carpet over and over again if you don’t want to have to bite the dust by putting your wo/men in the lurch.

The purity of the Brahmin caste and its spiritual aims can be gauged by the caste of the author of the Kama-Sutra.

For decades since the post-WWII Independence spree, Western powers prised secrets by waving the white-young-chick muleta at African and Asian Brahma bulls : now that the muleta is torn to shreds by immigration and toros roam the arena at will, their horns bloodied-full with mini-skirts, what’s the new secret weapon of the secret services ? 

The harder the rock, the louder the battery drums and gongs : no wonder the baby bawls when born !

Wilhelm Reich’s designation of the sexual act as a method by which to free oneself of neurotic behaviour acquired through « sexual abuse » makes of it an art form that might spare the embryo dread and damnation !

Non-mothers of course may happily envoyer en l’air by getting their Fallopian tubes bound up !

© T. Wignesan, Paris, 2016


Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2016


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Helium Balloons

Helium balloons may last
Well past when they're inflated,
Although longevity like that
Is vastly overrated.

For who needs "Welcome Baby" ones
When yours is two years old;
And most "Congratulations" 
After weeks start growing cold.

Balloons fulfill their duties well
But often they will pop;
With helium, however,
All those greetings never stop.

Yet there's one way to tell
If a balloon should bite the dust - 
When it's puckered, loose and droopy,
Then its message you can't trust.


Copyright © ilene bauer | Year Posted 2014


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ANGEL DUST

Never seen beautiful angels
sprinkle angel dust on me
as snowflakes on a leafless tree,
and I don't expect them to alter things
when they swoop down with their long wings;
where were they when I faced fears and dangers?


Angel dust has another meaning...
besides the magical power to alter a destiny,
kids of my age used this drug
and went insane, not recognizing 
themselves, their personality changed drastically;
some even wanted to jump out of a window.


Sweet angels, leave Heaven and visit me  
on the days when wishes freeze on silent lips,     
let them resemble snow falling on distant hills,
and deserted roads like the one I'm traveling on!
Let me catch many snowflakes softer than a baby 
with soft skin...whiter than daises basking in the spring sun!


A boy, barely fourteen, has been found dead as a poisoned rat
on the bleachers of a run-down baseball field frequented by a hungry cat....
his red eyes were wide-open imploring a merciless sky color rust;
no angel came down to save him: he laid there and painfully died!
Who gave him that powerful drug? Did he want to bite the dust? 
He has taken that secret with him...why didn't anyone listen when he cried? 
 


Entered in Gail Angel Doyle's contest,
" Angel Dust "
Written by Andrew Crisci
on 10/18/ 2012


Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2012


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That Uncertain Feeling

So, you see a golden fleece,
  snagged, hanging fire,
luminescent and inviting
  on a fence of barbed wire.

Would you take it to your heart,
  grasp it, reach for it,
or recoil for fear of laceration,
  of pain, of expectation deficit?

Here lies the timeless dilemma:
  if love does gloriously bloom,
will friendship bite the dust,
  consigned unto it's doom?

In this paralysing conundrum
  there lies my golden fleece,
a prison of uncertainty
  with no sign of release.

How can we be sure
  in resolve we can defeat it?
If we can have the cake
  and ultimately eat it?


Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2005


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The Great Wait

                                                                                                                   
In America, after World War 2 and the war in Korea,                                                                                                the post war economy brought hopes of a bright career.

Many of its citizens were thawing from the freeze, but not us.                                                                          We would have to wait; perhaps too few made a fuss.
 
Though our fore parents had already paid a terrible price,                                                                                      most would agree that our lot was still a very hard and vicious life.

Yes, although we were citizens and could pay our fares like all the rest;                                                          being Black,  we were striped of rights and forced to the back of the bus.

I am certain that God heard the cries of the Black masses                                                                                               as they fervently prayed, "O God, have we not had enough?"

The beat goes on, and the unchecked heat waves  of tyranny were yet unjust. And as the sands of time slowly fell in the hour glass, we waited.

The reality was that many more had to suffer and slowly bite the dust.                                                                   Man's cruelty and debauchery are not new and never need be a mystery.

We would have to wait, like so many others in prior generations of history.                                                        Mortal man's unquenchable greed, and his thirst for power have no boundary.

God-given fortunes of rights are seldom relinquished by the powers that be. Undoubtedly, heaven did indeed gaze upon the broken promises of history. 

So we waited for aid and relief from our inhumane misery. Nevertheless, The Almighty took note, and determined the time for heaven's visitation.
02242017 cj   PS





Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2017


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Breaking Point

My best friend is gone, Ended her life
Turned around and she cut herself with a knife
Body lain, Soaked in blood in the bathroom tub
Why did she have to join the suicide club?
Kassidy's gone, I dont know what to do
My other friend Savannah, Im pretty sure she's gone too
Got a knife, got depressed, and cut her vein
Why is this happenin? Girll you were my main!
Left me all alone just to bite the dust,
God d*mn this f*ck*n life's a bust
Cheated on everytime left and right,
Can't one girl be faithful for a night?
Haha my friend has a british accent, so cute
You have a gun? Point it at me.Click, Shoot
In December i really hope this world will end,
Because of everything my heart has too many hole to mend.


Copyright © Hadrian Bohannon | Year Posted 2012


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Full reversal

The Omnipotent Hand knows what is best; Man sees himself and nature at blind spot. Now in a sine graph we are at the crest. Yes, a turning point is what we have got! The Hand constructed a clean house for us, But we cook what we eat in the fireplace. The scented air turns into greenhouse gas, Increasing the temperature in the space. The Hand let the rain fall and river flow, But we give them artificial flavors: Rain gets an acid, river a shadow. Sickening soft drinks have various colors. The Hand gave us the land to tread upon, But we make the wheels to send us away. And we bite the dust; diseases have won. We choose to die and not to walk a day. The Omnipotent Hand showed us the sign To bend the trend and take full reversal, Like searching for the grapes, the source of wine. Unless we go back, all shall be fatal. (c) 2012 by Sherwin Balbuena


Copyright © Sherwin Balbuena | Year Posted 2012


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What If

What If ??
By Curtis Johnson

An older brother once posed some “What If??” questions to me.
My brother is among many who pose all kinds of  “What If??”                             questions such as these:

No God; No devil
No heaven; No hell

We simply bite the dust
No final destiny for any of us

We live; and everyone dies
No hell, so no one fries

We finish the race
There’s nothing to face

The world keeps turning
People keep killing and burning

Today, we eat, drink, and be merry
Tomorrow, there’s no Mary or Jerry 

My brother says to me, “What if you give your whole life to
A God that does not exist?”
I say to my brother, “If it be true that God does not exist,
I would have lost nothing; but if it be true that God does exist,
Then you would have lost everything.”

So, my parting questions are: What if he doesn’t? What if he does?

cj07172015


Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015


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Isn't The Same Old Spiel

8/10/17


Be careful what you ask for
Next thing you know it wasn't all that great, or you want even more

This isn't the same old spiel
I'll tell you something real
Everyone has an 'Achilles heel'


Speaking the truth, life is rather short
Don't be a poor sport
The ball is in your court


You are really barking up the wrong tree
If you think you're godly
Compared to everybody

Only here once
No ifs ands or buts
All eventually bite the dust

It's not all make believe
From A to Z

Others will always meddle
I don't care if you believe in god or the devil
Better grasp the nettle
Instead of trying to always settle
If you want to reach a higher level

Again
I'll hit the nail on the head
Don't get misled
We all wind up dead

I'm going to call it a day
But not going to throw it all away


Copyright © Dalton Ogletree | Year Posted 2017


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Immortality (Scenes from Above)

May you close your eyes in advance 
Before Lucifer captures your soul 
In our saviors final dance 
Alexander the Great 
Commander of the darkest fate
Sheathe all swords! 
What is it my lord
You have captured me at my weakest point 
I want what these dead seekers don't 
I see an empire, a nation 
Nothing higher than inflation 
I Julius Caesar hold freedom in a tear 
My hopes and dreams are what everyman fear
In the presence of tragedy 
You will love me 
In a tub of petals 
The gods will rub me
I am all but immortal 
See the shadows of jealousy 
And ever so often, I walk toward her 
Lust caught up in mislead trust 
Even holy sinners bite the dust
John Proctor’s Crucifixion 
A slain soldier’s prediction
So content with death 
That you wouldn't give a piece for what's left
When all realms are expired 
We come to a cease fire 
When the pictures fade and legends die 
Imagine if generals could cry 
Adore fate so rudely 
And leave as yours truly 
You shall remember me 
The curse of September, but let it be
May you close your eyes in advance 
Before Lucifer captures your soul 
In our saviors final dance


Copyright © Jerry Golden | Year Posted 2006


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The Dreamer

Un-measured faith is his Armour
He battles the endless curse
Chase the rainbow of dreams
To quest for unwritten truth

Sweat,tears and blood-He-
travelled by foot
Without a blink,neglect his pride and youth
Bite the dust a million times
Yet,hunger for a Song of Hope

Once an officer,a Husband and Father
Now,in far away land he wander
Forgotten by many,hair is thinning and turning gray

'Have faith in Me'As he say
I shall arise one day
Life move's in mysterious way
You will be there in my time of glory


Copyright © K.M.S.O. | Year Posted 2005


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Ways To Go

Some like to say “give up the ghost”, 
To mean forever abandoning your post. 

The rowdy ones prefer to kick the bucket, 
Though that would surely make a racket. 

Many are said to bite the dust,
When they’re catching the skyward bus. 

A gambler would likely cash in his chips,
Hope he’ll change his winnings into tips.

I knew someone who turned up his toes, 
When on habaneros he overdosed. 

The more vocally inclined tend to croak,
Then become quieter than a dead oak. 

My granduncle may soon fall off his perch,
For both food and sex he has lost the urge. 

We will soon shuffle off this mortal coil,
Pack it up and immigrate to the soil. 

You’re scheduled to go the way of all flesh, 
Whether your figure is average or a smash. 

It’s no great tragedy to breathe one’s last, 
If regrets are few and life’s been a blast. 

When I’m ready to sail to heaven’s arch,
Raise a toast and wish me bon voyage!


Copyright © Bernard Chan | Year Posted 2017


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MURDER IN UNIFORM

Dressed up in Khaki, or olive and green,
A new kind of terror, before unseen.
Betraying all of a nations trust,
Making poor civilians, bite the dust.
Is there no one to bring them to bust? 
Before being recipients of public disgust. 
Never been known for such things in yore; 
A new born trend at our own back door. 
Guardians the world thought to be truly just, 
Now hunger for blood and sexual lust. 
If we don’t immediately put a stop; 
The entire defence mechanism, will be seen as a flop. 
It’s the powers that be, who have to get them punished; 
Failing which, they’ll have an image so tarnished. 
Once thought by the others, as choice cannon fodder; 
They’re giving intelligent countrymen a whole lot of bother. 
These men who are expected to defend mankind, 
Have turned into monsters of a different kind. 


Prince Freakasso  
(painter & poet) 



Copyright © Prince Freakasso | Year Posted 2009


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The PUNISHER and the PunishEd

The Punisher and the PunishEd

                           I

The Punisher needs the Punishéd to punish
(Will anyone argue this point)
That is: Who will the Punisher punish
If He had no-one to pinpoint
Unless He punishes Himself
And since we are all per se the Punishéd
We must all be part and parcel of the Same-Self
Why then punish Himself/Ourselves
Some would say: for sado-masochistic reasons 
Others: if He didn’t do that
What would He do with Himself
If only to amuse Himself 
Create never-ending limitless demonic Purusha universes
The antithesis of Himself
That would produce and re-produce Itself/Themselves
A never-ending cheap television series
The Brahma Day followed by an extinguishing Brahma Night
Dissipate boredom
Alternate the Yang and the Yin
One up One down ad infinitum
Time for the Brahman creation
Time for the Vishnu preservation
Time for the Siva destruction
Le théâtre de l’Absurde
The Myth of Sisyphus
The cavernous cries of those who writhe and rage
Le théâtre de la Cruauté
Die Verfremde Effekt
The Punisher embracing the Punishéd
Playing to an empty Brechtian house
Who watches us: squirm squirt squeal
A magic-lantern Khayyam show
The winding caravan heading for a Shangri-la blinded by sand
Dogs who bark turned to stone

                          II 

The Punisher wields the stick
The Punishéd stickless flees the stick
Fiddlesticks
What if the Punishéd also wields a stick
Sticks
Then you have conflict
But for the divine right to a bigger stick

The Puppeteer and the Puppet
The Trumpeter and the Tyrant
The Tortionneur and the Funambulist
The Union of Fifty-Sticks waiting for Brexit
One more over-used and bloodied stick


                        III

The Punisher justifies the need to punish the Punishéd
KARMA serves to ease the conscience
Of both the Punisher and the Punishéd
    Makes Yang feel stronger than the Yin
    Makes the just punishment a case for outright win 

The Punishéd needs to feel he’s fulfilling a debt
Hamartia come into its own: make no mistake 
For some mindless mistake in some irredeemable moment
Assuage some masochistic phobia in the memory crypt
Watch the virtuous Yang bite the dust
And wonder if this up-side-down world
Makes any sense to the Just


                       IV

Which Playwright would think up such a forlorn plot
To drive all actors on stage down the trap-door shut

Do not particles aimless in the Primal Soup
By trial and error 
Wrap on centillion Hawking key-boards
The perfect Greek tragedy
Sans Deus ex machina
Make the fate of all mankind
A matter of mindful matter

No man be so bad
As be by his role forbade 
To assume a role


(c) T. Wignesan - Paris,  2017



Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2017


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Earthly Hell

Has it ever rang a bell,
That life is a pure hell.
The people I thought I trust,
Just told me to bite the dust.

Love is just a stupid game;
All it has brought me is shame.
I seem cooler if I lie;
Because you think your Mr. Wise Guy.

This bullet has your name on in and what not.
All I can do is take that gunshot.
Just so I don’t seem bigger.
I never will pull the trigger.

We live in a race of black and while.
We all die day and night.
Some of us have explored,
While others just were adored.

Our Earth is hell year-round.
No wonder aliens haven’t been found.
They are scared of us; Another excuse.
So why we try; What’s the use?
                   


Copyright © Crystal Rapp | Year Posted 2010


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FANNING THE FLAMES

A life well lived
A loving and caring being
His smile made our hearts leap
Such a fragrance only he could bring.

A lot was said as he was lying in state.
So much love served but could no longer be eaten
Backlog of people swarmed in because of him
So great a crowd, his dwarf house had no space.

Indeed his life was love made cryptic.
At least from the little I knew of him
But never knew it splashed off the beaten track
Nor beheld so much admiration while still ticking he was.

Exquisite words fell on ears dumb,
The very ears they are meant to chin up.
I wondered why they had to twiddle their thumbs
Till he was about to bite the dust.

If only he knew how much love he created
It would have pushed down his throttle plate
And he would have fired on the more
Till all was given and none left to draw.

If only he heard these words during his time
He would have left with a better smile.
And it would have eased the strenuous life
Which is everyone’s plight.

I know I cannot follow this road.
Everyone that makes my heart flutter must know
At least this debt is the little I should pay
For the love that comes freely everyday


Copyright © Okunsebor Williams | Year Posted 2013


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Chopping Some Ice

I had to chop some ice today
To free my snow-blocked car.
The sun was my assistant,
Helping soften from afar.

I borrowed from the handyman
A strong long-handled tool,
Which worked better than a shovel
And was really kinda cool.

It’s a gratifying feeling
To accomplish what you must
For when taking care of business,
Stress and worry bite the dust.


Copyright © ilene bauer | Year Posted 2017


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freddie mercury review rami malek

rami malek - freddie mercury review 18.05.18
 
cruising friday morning
fact of life and no course
these papers are scorning
hetero washing inspired this sauce.
on page 13 was a silhouetto 
similarity did muller
the damming review was no fandango
going slightly mad was bryan fuller.
upset on no conclusion
to much portrayal on a wife
allot of suffering was a illusion
freddie loving men is no hard life.
with reference to flash
over in seconds left no rust
this review was no "i'm in love with my car" crash.
"blink and you miss it" did bite the dust.
out in november
going to see it needs no clue
part of queen and george club remember
end with a quote " i do i still love you".


Copyright © gate low | Year Posted 2018


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brian may remember gordon is alive

brian may remember gordon is alive 21.05.18

great interview
no need for any pardon
page 18 dressed in a shirt of light blue
i only no him through gordon.
having a break from wedding
to much royalty
plans for mount everest to be heading
anything to do with queen gets my loyalty.
thank you for playing
the game won't bite the dust
people will read this and thoughts not delaying
prince vultan will be trending and prove its no crust.
going to end with directions
gordon and control is the have
already in place are connections
but just incase to see my queen i'm getting satnav.


Copyright © gate low | Year Posted 2018


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rami malek won't bite the dust says freddie

rami malek won't bite the dust says freddie ( wednesday metro attached )02.05.18
 
they new i was cruising
to give the reader some cleudo
never will my queen have bruising
fact this is no innuendo.
privileged beyond privilege
rami malek in you is trust
been searching with mileage
now no more another one bites the dust.
understanding freddie
not a chance or any university
out of your lines is reassuring and steady
none will truly understand his complexity.
it will be a thriller
giving you a light that's green
to brian john and roger its no killer
they will love you representing part of queen.
really looking forward
on it i will dissect and gorge
freddie and wham will applaud
smiling saying fabulous darling what about you george.
h t t p s : / / I b b . co / i bR b KS 


Copyright © gate low | Year Posted 2018