Best Implicated Poems
I am not normal no one is ..
Far inside the feeling exists
Round and round I go over it
Where is it ?
It ceiced to be .. no bell ring
Engraved set thoughts to be
implicated into eachother
As they continue no matter
Links are made and i batter
Which arr the myths which are the truths ..
How bitter ... i may feel if I declare a myth from a glare
Acquire wits
Accelerated emotions ..
Bewildered if not listened
Obvious is already known
Feel so deep I hate to repeat ..
Perception is quick
Subconscious level is real ..
l
Converse and express
The emotions deflection..
With enthusiastic rhythm of convention..
Expecting returned mutual appreciation..
No recess
Just distress
thoughts are making
me feel lovely but also unordered. .. uterly groundless and bounded ..
My heart entangles
My thoughts hurt me , and its like subconcious bullets.. running through my neutral paths...
At last ... its hard maybe its better if you love your simple life , i am not like that ..
If you are me ,then you're welcome to engage and feel the words I now set free ..
Treks of Tracks of the past, current and future, we make
Treks of Tracks of a noted past:
Made mostly in our childhood days
This upon playing childhood games
and implicated in innocent playground escapades
Treks of Tracks of the past, current and future, we make:
Treks of Tracks of a notable past:
These made mostly in our long ago childhood days
This upon playing childhood games
and implicated in innocent playground escapades
Treks of Tracks left on dusty baseball diamond fields
and behind schoolyard scenes
This like those of our first fresh young puppy love endeavor
Then, a graduation to be a high-school novice, neophyte, newcomer, neutered
Treks of Tracks, present:
These present paths are made by repeated foot-falls
that are made one ahead of the other
These are a dusty foot print shown
A Trek of Tracks, that are of good and bad
These are filled with a composite collection, of people,
friends, lovers, comrades hugged, faced, embraced or chased
Treks of Tracks, made and left walking or driving on long roads
Tracks of Tracks, left and placed on many white sandy beaches
Tracks, made frolicking on wet rainy days
Tracks, made in the snow and racing home
Treks of Tracks, of our achievements put out on
full top trophy display
Treks of Tracks, on pen and paper revealing our soul
Treks of Tracks of imprints of events we are making every day
Treks of Tracks, future:
These are to ponder and contemplate then commence
Yet, Treks of Tracks, of our future are already hidden in place:
These are given paths to choose, as a Yes or a No
That it is to take or not to take, this is our future fate
This all eventually will happen with no prolong debate
"These are the Trek of Tracks we make"
He told the tales with likes and similes
human character dressed as grass and trees
the fragility of life just like a mist
as touched by divine spark like children kissed
He drew attention to earths everlasting beauty
and loving kindnesses as worthy over duty
painted pictures that a child's mind could see
and of the qualities that would last eternity
Those he drew were woman child and man
in parallels explained Gods everlasting plan
a future government by Gods own plan designed
choosing those who like his Son in mind
The currant rulers here described as beast
devour and make suffer great to least
he implicated leaders intentions as the cause
as having violated all of the natural laws
He pointed out the signs to tell the time
how earth and heaven his plans to realign
where peace on earth in every nation he will gain
with truth and everlasting life they will maintain
Surprise a life in heaven was not the plan for man
but he put us on the earth in a garden understand
he intends this projects finish by his Son
with those he has redeemed to be the ones "to get er done"
I must advise you those in the grave are dead
they will remain there until the Son has said
he who has the keys of death has them in mind
to resurrect upon the earth in a future time
While Christendom adopted the ideology of hell
the Teacher of the Truth in sleep of death did tell
he called his friend who was dead and in a grave
forth the example of what his future rule will pave
How can you not get it the things he plans to do
to eliminate on earth suffering and all life renew
oh Shang gri La and Paradise He plans for thee
where Man will live in Love and joy in harmony
AGAIN this is too long to complete the post here please see this link
to complete the reading......
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COPYRIGHT © 2012 C Michael Miller
Via Duboff Law Group LLC
Dear God I been struggling all my life
for the sins I committed I paid the price
learned to live with regrets and sacrifice
da da da da da da da da da da da
I contain unspeakable secrets in the depths of my mind
my eyes have witness the wickedest sickness of mankind
In been conflicted at times
by my on mind confined
implicated in crime and briefly confined
Now I'm a family guy and there much more than worth it
but what if all the beef from my past comes to the surface
that's not what I sweat I got theLord to protect
if the strings get pulled on the devils marionettes
but in the event they approached with the intent of my death
I'd still send shots down the center like I'm dialing collect
always a peaceful cat except for my youth
when I swore that I wore a bullet proof gorilla suit
and in the heat of the streets deepest beefs I found
every shot that came would miss be by a country mile
until that one that came to erase the life of Dwayne
it murder portions of me and the rest if left in pain
in a since he's still here cause his blood flows through my veins
and my faith dictates I can see him again
all though the pain never lessens their are lessons in pain
for what does not kill me gives me strength to gain
Dear God I been struggling all my life
for the sins I committed I paid the price
learned to live with regret and sacrifice
da da da da da da da da da da da
implicated for a crime he did not commit
fighting an endless and hopeless battle
unsure of who conspired aganist him
guilty of being black
innocent soul forced to be corrupt
mind racing and searching for relief
heartbeat slowing down
raped and tortued by inmates and guards
forced into a world where hell is home
wanting nothing but a fair trial
tears turn to rage while days turn to years
no visits no commissary thrown into confinement
four grey walls no bed naked and alone
marinating in feces while surviving on dirty urine
fed humility on a tray of spit and sperm
why does the system fail us
so many innocent lives wasting away
living and lost on the green mile
once an everyday working man
now becomes a man's woman
violated in mid-evil ways
betrayed by his flesh and blood
wanting to end it all now
just to be free once again
living inside his world of what if's
escape is through his prayers
life leaves him to die a slow death
alone and afraid of what lurks outside
having to swallow more than his pride
looking forward to that fateful day
when the needle filled with hate
will slowly enter his veins
and take him away
No sooner than we set foot within said domicile
attestation to so called gentleman’s’ agreement with guile
initially infrequently, but incessantly as time elapsed Isle
never forget (nor will spouse forgive) with rancor and rile
ceaselessly besieging, bruiting bare-knuckle skirmishes
for us to remove ourselves and personal belonging with vile
lent vitriolic wrath from the day we decamped
within hoity -toity Mainline –
our matted unwelcome would endure for quite a white.
* I * S * I * N * G
With hindsight and accumulative less cloudy fifty shades of gray,
an irrevocable clear er voyance viz summoning forth would lay
an irreconcilable rift (rivaling the Mariana), and constant nay
saying presaged an emotional price to pay
whereat we deterred sale of vintage crystal balls – our stay
purported prevented sale of precious heirlooms – oye vay
in tandem to estate sale divvied up, cuz we whar in the way.
* I * S * I * N * G
Analogous to Little Red Riding Hood, we could not see
blitzkrieg, cannonading, incessant strafe carpet bombing re:
bloody onslaught from the generation of elder vipers que
endured feeling trapped by memorabilia meant nothing to me
* I * S * I * N * G
Warfare found us hunkering down within said tract housing unit,
a fusillade fired off re: porting volleys of character assassination
bombarded this unfortunate civilian clearly implicated to whit
for being a non jewish schlemiel inducing endless economic
denigrating calumniations – fulminating against this “twit”
we decried wicked, vicious, unwarranted abuse would not quit
with no defense against slings and arrows, a plague round
of ceaseless, ferocious, and insidious pilloried that pit
pendulous injustices for each of our **** (emphatic branding
per diem me own scrawny gluteus maximus to git
the hell out – eventually hiring a lawyer with eviction edict!
I wonder:
Who, on earth, has designated PUTIN as the ruler of the world?
Who has given this BARBARIAN the right to rob, rape, and kill?
Who has appointed this DICTATOR as the overlord of humanity?
Who has allowed this SATAN II** to threaten Mankind with obliteration?
Who has put this DEMON in a position to intimidate us, our children, our
Families, and our countries with nuclear annihilation?
The answer to all these questions is this: NO ONE!
We are free men,
God-fearing men,
Children of the All-Mighty, who are inspired by
His love.
Thus
We must never surrender our GOD-GIVEN rights to this PARANOIC individual
Who represents only a few FANATIC citizens of his nation.
For that reason
We should not stand, apathetically still, before this abominable ATHEIST and
Let him devastate our civilization by imposing chaotic anarchy and tyranny.
Therefore,
We ought to become vigorously implicated in peace's resurrection
By putting up a gallant fight so as to defeat this MONSTER and save
Ourselves,
Our children
Our faith
Our society
Our civilization and
Our beautiful planet!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
06 May 2022
-
*RUSSIA says its 16,000mph hypersonic ‘Satan-2’ missile can fit 12 nuclear warheads and could wipe out any place in the world!
-
**I name Putin SATAN II, having in mind Hitler as Satan I.
-
I looked happy
Happy with a secret
I can’t remember you
I can’t remember them
Those faces, I see them in a mist
Don’t get lost, not again!
You are wicked, I’m wicked
You are my misty, misty, misty boy
Not tonight, my love
I want to die. To be really dead
In the mist, in the mist
That must be gloriaus
You were always a misty dream
Umm, I’m gonna be your misty nightmare
Oh, why, why I can’t touch you
You are disappearing from me, me
Not tonight, my love
I want to die. To be really dead
In the mist, in the mist
That must be gloriaus
I still see you in my dreams
You make me trembly
I’m melting in your arms
Kiss my neck one more time
Not tonight, my love
I want to die. To be really dead
In the mist, in the mist
That must be gloriaus
Your kisses are deadly
Shaking like a hurricane
You implicated me
And now I’m dead, like those roses in my garden
Not tonight, my love
I want to die. To be really dead
In the mist, in the mist
That must be gloriaus
Not tonight, my love
I want to die. To be really dead
In the mist, in the mist
That must be gloriaus
I read that you should
love others as
you love yourself
Things got confusing
and I began abusing
because I equated
love for touching
and inserted feelings
so I began
the physical application
of what I was doing
which ruined the implicated
love I was meant to be
pursuing.
Everytime I got busy
my inner man said
"Boy what are you doing
"'I' said, love her as you love you"
I was so confused
until I really listened to
my own No
I begin deconstructing
the way self had been raping me
after I had a little too much
to drink. I started loving
me without hands
and it opened a love without borders
with no ends
I could finally hold her
heart so I could truly love her
and to my surprise
when I opened my eyes
I didn't have a desire
to love myself the way
I was doing.
A new kind of love
is what we all should
be pursuing.
Please rise
up to the very clouds, if you please.
The somewhat honorable marshal will preside
over the disorder of this court.
You have been summoned, gentleman,
on this very good Friday
on the charges of dullness and lifelessness.
The court will hear testimony
that in no way is an excuse for such outrage.
Take your oaths on the good book
that I never returned to the library.
The prosecution rests
but only until sunset.
For the week was arduous
and energy is lacking
from eat, read, sleep, repeat.
The defense calls everyone off of the bench.
All implicated must cast off all guilt,
and all objections are overruled.
Appeals are granted
to absolutely no one.
The way the court sees it
the very existence of day
and labor and girlfriends
are nothing
more than obstructions of justice
for the working man.
You are sentenced to fun and recklessness,
and battle to improve your world.
Bloodless civil war! Beer pong diplomacy!
Silence the enemy with thunder!
Inhibitions be damned.
And so band of scoundrels,
young only once,
you must give back to the community
by recycling
your dozens of empty cans.
This is a direct order-we shall have no order.
No rules or regulations,
only justice
in its most primitive and hedonistic form
for those who have earned it.
Court is adjourned.
now not anymore
the Island that isn’t
a loneliness but
Choice without being
There we were sitting and
The Sea was coming and
We (me and you) – a gorgeous staple,
Hooked,
were creating and
we saw him (after years and years) how
he was entering
like a rainbow huge
unattainable and
slow
brown – like a beam
(to hold for it)
nonpoetry - the other one is breakable
when the meaning they wave –
a hand of an insane man before a mirror
nongame – the game is dead
after Joyce and like a child is screaming
for the sandy tower after an adult
(a cynical stone) carelessly and with no reason
forded through
the dolphin is a life vital
and his existence aside of the genesis
and whole in the sea and whole
is reflected
nonliterature – the literature is dead
implicated into shape and ad of
the language but
where is here the Rapture
of the dolphin – glamour
oh forgive me I am entering
a someone else’s territory
I am not a ventriloquist too
I do not practice knowledge
there’s nothing new here each
new is unnamed
a vital place without a place
in a movement moveable
smooth like blue
fused in a deep bare
white
Six feet below
That is where I go
To spend forever,
Some souls come and some souls go
But I will rather home it here,
Far away from humans inhumanity
Far from chicanery
Of a world gone mockery,
I thought it would be long
But after the bang
It was just so simple,
From the gun, a bullet just single
Splattered the juice grisly,
And the gape red and livid
Made a clean breast.
The place of burial
The sweetest place to be
No sweetest place like this,
With a practiced ease
The priest glasses on the nose
Read the requiem,
A little prayer, and a little hymn
And the body lay in sweet repose,
Truth, the day of death
Better than the day of birth,
And my wife Elizabeth
Her eyes fixed on my casket,
Thinking maybe be if she was responsible,
I presumed she would get married
As soon as possible,
And my son; sweet and sad
But never so sweet to stop his dad.
I thought it would be long
But after the bang
It was just so simple,
From the gun; a bullet just single
Splattered the juice grisly,
And the gape red and livid
Made a clean breast.
The place of burial
All of the wealth and money,
Couldn’t buy a peace like this
And all the drugs, and all the fame;
Could not make same
Like a rolling mass of water,
Life comes to naught;
I will rather not go higher
But sun down; it is just cozier,
As the body goes on the descent
I remembered the gun that lay implicated;
Besides the bloodied head that lay nascent,
And the eyes that opened supplicated,
As everyone threw the dust to dust;
And departed,
Never a backward glance,
I waved and looked around askance,
Masses of tombstones spread like malignant cancer,
And a gang of royal busts;
Nestling among flourishing roses and sure cedars,
And here is welcome to forever!
Chorused some new friends that smile,
For this is your place of burial.
Violent offenders released without bail
a senseless reform, it unfailingly fails
Victims walk alone in dark alleys at night
then rant on the news 'bout the lack of streetlights
Movies at theatres feature a killing a minute
Hollywood's culture of death implicated in it
Crude rap songs glorify every nasty habit imaginable
blare from sidewalks and streets uninhabitable
Guns so easy to score on the meanest of streets
adolescents own more than the cops on the beat
Single mothers on drugs, absent fathers in jail
young kids left untended, what do 'values' avail
Do murders seem senseless ~ They're so often not
They happen for good reason in the society we've got
A DICTUM BY DARROW
If you add an “s” to the word care you get scare
Perhaps that’s why it scares me to care
I’d like to care but simply don’t dare
And to me that really isn’t very fair
Lately they’ve all been walking away
The ones I care about that is
The women who betray my trust
And do what they must
But what they must do invades my shell
And relegates me, once again, to a hell
Clarence Darrow said that the first part of our lives are ruined by our parents
And the second part is ruined by our children
Well allow me to add an addendum to that theory
A theory that leaves me more than a little leery
If one is privileged to live a third part of his life
That part is ruined by our lovers
That’s what one discovers with the loss of love
And the happiness therein
Oh, what can I say except for that is a sin
So what can I do but cling to my dreams?
And why can’t it ever be the way it seems?
So often it appears I’ve found everlasting love at last
Until I am cast aside in favor of something easier
Something less complicated
And once again the woman is implicated by impatience
And her unwillingness to remain by my side
So that’s why so many women have lied
Lies with the implications of imperfections
Until thus I have fallen under their spell
And relegated, yet again, unto a hell
So now you know the letter that turns care into scare
Two words I find difficult to bear
There have been women unable to completely share
And to me that simply doesn’t seem fair
© 2012…PHREEPOETREE....~free cee!~
A sense of the universe
In all its diverse
Forms can give rise
To a profound apprehension of the lies
That abound
All around
As if we prefer not to see
How we
Are implicated at the very core
In a raw
Vital way in ecological catastrophe
By our desire for mastery
To be in charge of our fate
And we refuse to wait
To recognise deep within our heart
That we are part
Of the what we perceive to be the stuff of the real
And to recognise our need to heal
What is out of kilter with God’s rhythm
So when we find ourselves caught in a gigantic schism
We must not deny
The moat in our own eye
The block
That enables us to mock
The wonder of creation
As if life was all imagination
Amenable to sophisticated modifications
Subtle alterations
And not a gift given us by life’s creator
Humankind’s maker
For we are not the end of the story
And God is the source of true glory
Do we dare to pause and ponder?
The sheer wonder
That life is not something for us to sift
And re-arrange but is a gift
To treasure
Beyond all that we can ever measure
Jane Tatum©