To be a good father You already have to be a good man But apparently he couldn't be either guess it was just easier For him to be just like his father
Him being a black father Made it harder The stereotypes That followed him around That policed He probably internally agreed He felt it must've been better for him to leave Or Maybe he just doesn't love his kids enough to stay It must've been his generational way
His children understood As best as they could That his father was ed up They just thought he would give them a better childhood
They weren't mad just disappointed They felt neglected Felt unprotected By someone who was supposed to love them They felt stupid They felt empty, like they shouldn't have existed
As they grew up They saw all the other present fathers The pain Of it all began to hit harder They began to wonder If they even mattered
As the years continued on That pain grew stronger Their fathers absence Constantly haunted them Their self hatred grew deeper No amount of therapy made it easier They would always feel inferior
They would never forgive They would never forget
Who Killed First?
If it happened that there was no Fall,
Then altered would be the nature of all
Things.
Does it mean that birth would be painless?
Because if no fall, then Eve was blameless.
And what of the serpent condemned to crawl?
Would it still have legs and walk with a spraul?
Maybe the snake would still walk,
But no babies for Eve, at sex she would baulk.
Being an innocent, she knew not of sex,
So that would not matter, it isn’t complex.
Vegetarians they’d all be,
And never want to see,
The killing of an animal for food or glee.
But keep in mind, the first to kill,
Was God, Himself. It was His will,
To cloth the people that He policed,
But did not care anything about the beast,
He killed.
lover’s lane
empty
lonely
lipless
leveled by texts
not policed
Death Arrives on Earth
Who Killed First?
If it happened that there was no Fall,
Then altered would be the nature of all
Things.
Does it mean that birth would be painless?
Because if no fall, then Eve was blameless.
And what of the serpent condemned to crawl?
Would it still have legs and walk with a spraul?
Maybe the snake would still walk,
But no babies for Eve, at sex she would baulk.
Being an innocent, she knew not of sex,
So that would not matter, it isn’t complex.
Vegetarians they’d all be,
And never want to see,
The killing of an animal for food or glee.
But keep in mind, the first to kill,
Was God, Himself. It was His will,
To cloth the people that He policed,
But did not care anything about the beast,
He killed.
PROGRESS
To improve win/win therapies
for past win/lose trauma events
and their degenerative systemic lack
of conserving organically healthy,
well-nurtured,
good-humored
and celebrated sacred joyful
integral
sensory-neural root systems.
CONSERVATION
To protect existing animated systems
against critical trauma events,
chronic stress,
and degenerative,
dissociative
Losing Global Wealth Conservation
AND
Losing Liberal Health Progress
root systemic mortality,
genocide,
ecocide
Tragically possible
while denying sacredness
of healthy polycultural
resilient life systems
like Green Gaian Paradise ReMemories
and RedBlooded Peak Ergodic-Erotic CoGravitating Passions,
panentheistically eco-progressive,
monotheistically win/lose wounded
ego-conservative anthrosupremacy.
Social
economic
and political
"EVOLUTION
is driven by progressive ideas
and policed by conservative sensibilities..."
"Progressivism
and Conservatism
each worry about one half of every issue,
and together,
they make sure we're paying enough
attention [etc.]
to everything that [bilaterally] matters."
Tim Urban, The Story of Us, 2020
backyard helicopters create
ass-sending noises that...
disturb whole neighborhoods
so...threats of disturbance are policed...
america blocked 'russian missiles to cuba'
there was a stench to their presence...
that would keep u.s. citizens awake
now...threat's of disturbance get policed again and...
the russians blocked nato nukes from their backyard
missiles carry a stench that scream their presence...
with such disturbing constant political threats
that...the media has replaced tiring virus reports with...
a cowboy style political saloon poker-game stand-off
with excessive soundings of hollow overblown threats...
all because the ukraine leader is a former comic
thinking...his nato and missile talk would be taken lightly...
stans sand
We booked on the radio as was the way
And out the station we drove away
The radio prattles its continual banter
As we policed the streets at a slow canter
There were disturbances some loud but not unique
And pub brawls to make the night complete
There were shoppies on day shift
With neighbourly disputes sorting out the grift
Throw in a Coroners at some one’s demise
Taking a report through the rels cries
Until the end of the shift comes round
For a quiet drink and to talk it all down.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Increased and Policed
Amount of worry we had increased,
And for weapons area was policed;
Much discovered;
Evidence uncovered;
Together problem had been pieced.
Jim Horn
Destroying liberty
takes away all self respecting good
Indoctrinating children into false beliefs
positions of power overturning values
Removing the way of the cross
from teachings underhanded acts
displayed against peace creates division
Replacing it with false doctrine
Shame I say on our state bodies
Unholy are the ways of pride
blind bats of envy filled with greed kills soul's
With your riches obtained by lies and deception
hidden by corrupt lawmakers the truth reveals
secrets a dark side yet to be addressed and policed
Heritics against the temple of our Lord's words
all the virtues of heaven are being removed
slowly as morals are the twisted visions
against a familie's respect and true guardianship
views on rearing has now come with a controlled status tag
Spear of destiny
I will kneel to serve you only
I pray for the white horsemen to come back
and cleanse this world of its sickness
that plagues our future generations
through ugliness lust holds position over truth
The doves arrive, gentle creatures
heads bobbing as they walk,
plucking stray seeds blown free across the ground.
Paired matches, clutching together
in the softly shadowed rays
of early morning sun to welcome the day.
Peerless counterparts, solitary and alone
scanning the demarcation zones
marked and policed by energetic squirrels.
Boundaries are set, locked in place
periphery margins of time and space
held orderly by the season.
Winter, spring, majestic intertwined interludes
painted purple, black, blue, creamy orange
by intermittent cold and warmth rising and falling.
Signs of the time, forewarning harbingers
of time cycled in conscientious discreteness
dandle acclimation to greet the age of change.
The doves come, peering through the gleam
of light and its reflected mirrored surfaces
long methodic glances at the systematic march of time.
A Smidge of Sacrilidge
A smidge of sacriledge
Some sin thrown in
Then mixed properly fixed
Ate it sin commit
Some say throw away
One day ate anyway
Can't stop saw cop
Hadn't hidden God forbidden
Received reprieve did leave
Poems more for shore
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Premier Poet
Maybe my new style poetry will
deserve a free premier membership
to Poetry Soup. Not only that, I just
completed my 3,000th poem and am
now number 6 out over 30,000 poets.
This should be worth something you
would think. I think on brink, was lost
came acrossed Something unexpected
maybe misdirected hit hard poems marred
Was policed writing ceased. Ho ho.
Days of Life of Trump
As days of Trump's life increased
He became more of a filthy beast
Some say that they even caught him
From bottom of barrel trying to skim
All of his area should be well policed.
Jim Horn
The Skyscrapers are so high; they seem to pierce the cerulean sky
Transpired by all those neon lights
So many have succumb to the city’s plight
People are distraught by the polluted stench of death in the air
Murder rate ever-increasing; does anyone care?
Concrete high rises and towering buildings form a ghetto
A utopia of poverty where drug addiction has control
The name of the forgotten enshrined by graffiti on the walls
A place where personality and pride stands tall
Cornered lives where fast money is the name of the game
A con, a player, and a hustler is still one in the same
On every street corner there is a church, a carryout, or a bar
A city that’s besieged by police brutality that has gone too far
Sedans and SUV's windows rattle from the loud deep-toned songs of Hip hop
The sound carries for avenues and blocks nonstop around the clock
The city never sleeps, so the crime never stops
Because there are criminal infested streets, policed by even belligerent cops
Weed smoke fumes subtlety filling so many lungs
The futile hum of engines at traffic lights becomes the city song
In this place of indignity there would be no pity
Welcome to SIN CITY
Wet My Entire Pants
If into your back I sank my claws
Do you think you could give to the cause
After both of my claws were released
Would your dead body be properly policed.
If some body must love another body sometime
Where and when in am I supposed to chime
And after long look I must be admitting
None of your poor clothes are properly fitting.
After finding myself out on a long limb
Should we do the shimmy, boogaloo or swim
Or trying to do some other song and dance
After we did a duet wet my entire pants.
In nature's ebb and tide
One thing for certain resides
Chaos at the foundation and flow
A continuous creation abides
Numerical desire lies
Where expression is clipped
A dark grid imposed
Protecting the future from doubt
Seen from a mountain eye
Cities divvied up
Millions of rectangles
and squares
Positive linear lust
Managed with might
Policed with rage
This IBM machine a blight
Chaos is the fountain
Chaos is the truth
Freedom will always break loose
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