Publicized with a sharp glower
you can read the butterfly stings.
Wretched heat of the witching hour
publicized with a sharp glower.
Dark eyes holding vacant power
give a glimpse of all fervor brings.
Publicized with a sharp glower
you can read the butterfly stings.
What thou shalt be wasted?
With the ship of sorrow harboured.
Like it gives thee an unexpected explosion,
And the heart of trauma and darkness is implanted.
It clouds into a season of bloodshed and pain,
But all thy life seems to be bludgeoned.
Tumbled into a canvas of time,
As thou shalt find a euphoric heart abused.
No description of fear was given,
With thy face bashed and muddied.
It shalt not be a publicized cry for help,
Nor shalt it be a dark horse murmured.
As a hard and stone-cold sadness torments thee,
And thy emotional feelings go unnoticed.
Memories would put thee in a chokehold,
And thy mutual senses are blurred.
Thou would find that thy pride is thy worst nightmare,
In thy skull is a slug that is slightly planted.
That, my friend, is a trauma that can drown in thy sorrows,
And it can get thee wasted.
In realms of cyberspace, I fly
searching out treasures in disguise
skirting advertised merchandise
the ordinary, the overemphasized
to anatomize the marginalized
values overlooked otherwise
on the dusty, neglected, virtual aisles
of small sites not over-commercialized
or google ranked and over-publicized
some unexpected payoffs materialize
glittering swag, patiences prize
“Oh, my God - Look!” I vocalize
My girlfriends can’t believe their eyes
“You can find anything,” they surmise.
Spoken said
Verbalized declared enunciated
Given aired voiced
Brought out whispered
Proclaimed commented
Blurted breathed broadcasted
SPOKEN
Asserted affirmed promulgated
Spoken truths and untruths
Advertised where am I to be casted
Publicized overwhelmed subdued demoralized
BROKEN
Talked discussed uttered thrown up despaired
Vented broadcast gasped phrased up and out
Broken
Snarled shot ripped (out)
Silently diverted screams of dispersions’
Vocalized shouted articulated denounced
SPOKEN
Shared passed announced Be it so,
Spoken is the broken speech at naught
Alleged ventilated averred formulated
Drawled avowed
Doubted Be it so, spoken is the broken
BROKEN
Vocalized shouted articulated denounced
Shared passed announced
Be it so, spoken is the broken speech at naught
Broken is Spoken
Quiet marks the spot
5/4/23
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
There is no sin but ignorance. (Christopher Marlowe)
Sin is the failure of an imperfectly made being to keep a perfect law. (Matthew Pearl-"The Dante Club")
ASSUMPTION:
Sin does not exist
Until or unless
It is publicized.
PRESUMPTION:
Public scandal
Is what makes
A sinful act offensive.
QUESTION:
Is sin in silence
Still a sin?
DISCOURSE:
There was a time
When virtue was its own reward,
But, over the course
Of human interaction,
That concept seems to have
Acquired a variety
Of different interpretations,
As well as to have suffered
A noticeable decrease in value
As well as in popularity.
To sin is still,
And always will be,
A human prerogative,
But to keep it a secret,
Nowadays,
Is practically impossible.
CONCLUSION:
At all levels of society,
Too many have learned,
Too well,
The art of removing scruples,
The science of loosening the bonds
Of human conscience,
And have convinced themselves
That sin in silence
Is not a sin at all.
This sudden warped concern for ampule,
the cruel force of world dictators,
these psychological taunt of the media,
Nescient chemists controlling our minds,
tycoons uttering lies in egoistic motives,
these pretentious drama of publicized jabs,
enhancing their personal ambition to rule,
these old prime ministers at the precipice,
unwilling to retire for greed,
frightened by the plague concocted in Wuhan,
confusing my will by their own fears.
conspirators accusing me of conspiracy,
invoking laws on their medium,
censoring opposing opinion,
These organized crimes against my will,
A cooked up opium rushed out of laboratory,
compelling a Police state devoid of volition,
mRNA coated codes, their Greek gift to save the world,
the same world they pass by in pain,
these tyrants suddenly more catholic than the Pope,
or civil than a civilian,
Liberty at the mercy of potentate,
silence all demanding,
The hysteria unending,
my trust for their kindness is zero.
kimo
merciless, unstoppable destroyer
kindergarten juggernaut,
the Incredible Hulk
for teens, hostile steamroller
transforms to Cain Marko
mere distractible, vulnerable mystic
youth's master of tech barrage
cybercrime’s Michael Calce
reformed, manipulative hacker worm
Date: November 29, 2019
IP-023
Michael Calce (born 1986, also known as MafiaBoy) is a security expert and former computer hacker from Île Bizard, Quebec who launched a series of highly publicized denial-of-service attacks in February 2000 against large commercial websites, including Yahoo!, Fifa.com, Amazon.com, Dell, Inc., E*TRADE, eBay, and CNN. He also launched a series of failed simultaneous attacks against nine of the thirteen root name servers.
I am in charge of a nominating committee.
I nominate what I believe the entire nation should eat,
and I nominated cheeseburgers and was supported by the democratic party.
Fried Chicken has always been a favorite of the republican party,
so I also nominated Fried Chicken, the republican party unanimously agreed.
Eat Anything You Want has been proposed by some lone independent,
whom you can also vote for, but who most likely won't win,
in a major election without funding and corporate backing.
Is this truly a democracy?
I can sell it to you as a democracy,
because you get to vote and choose what the entire nation will eat,
and in a well funded majorly publicized election,
tribal groups will form that are Pro Cheeseburgers and Anti Fried Chicken,
while other groups argue that Cheeseburgers will be the death of everyone,
and Fried Chicken will be the answer to everyone's salvation.
Is this truly a democracy?
I can sell it to you as a democracy because you get to vote,
but if you ask me, this questionable democracy as well as our vote,
is nothing more than one sad, pathetic practical joke.
… being played on all of us.
Pulse...zenith...drums...a shattering shudder
Words...Zion...neat...the platter unuttered
Thoughts zealots speak that magnets can't cover
Hatred, Hatred, Hatred and then...
What one friend begins as trend then ends as...
That someone that spins untruths as hints of...
Those that one two their meaning
Like science substitutes one seeing
Like dreadlocks without gravity
And minus without anything
Plus you...
Pulse pluralized ways synthesized a brain synthetic
Words harmonized vision fantasized fame unedited
Thoughts publicized talk bloody eyed shame touched heaven
Fallen, Fallen, Fallen is taught intention
Love savored its mention until...
Love favored an ending that ends the beginning
With feelings that have a habit of blending...
What this is then this plus you
And what it means to know what you say
With a treacherous heart leading the mind by sound
Instead of the other way around...
Thoughts then words then pulse.
Embellished, shined, publicized
Display put on their empty core
Listen! You must abide laws. (Seize!)
The narrative of freedom, a screen.
Adore something you know nothing about
Honey like texture of sweat and sour
Fools your taste of flavor, makes you devour
Your truest nature, freshness, born greatness.
Smell their petals of fragrant flowers.
Hear their robust voice, a rallying cry
Rejoice in their sweet flavor of right.
Layers and layers on top, engineered
Made to seem bright, a call to arms. (To our demise!)
Heed the bitter sweet words
Their sentient nature,
Their abomination of truth.
It is inspirational
to read and watch people
heroes, stars, saints overcoming hardships and trials
and not succumbing to the darkness.
The truth is
there are so many, a multitude of unsung, unknowns
awe inspiring, ordinary, everyday people and personages.
Heroes and Saints.
You have met them, know them,
been blessed by their presence
lived with them
in your everyday life.
Their stories, their lives though not publicized
or on the daily news
are known and seen by you
Inspirational struggles blessed.
Think about it,
you know them well those heroes and saints
they may even be
one of you.
i don't need god to tell me right from wrong
i don't need hell to make me afraid
i don't need a flock to help me migrate to my destiny
i don't need a herd to follow down my path
i don't need your interpretation of morality
i don't need my relationship with Creator publicized
i don't need the shame, guilt, and fear tied up in fellowship
i just need love.....understanding..... and space.....
i just need you.... unfettered
I lost;
The strength my words willed,
The musings my words instilled,
When you bowed out;
The publicized emotion my face bore for you,
Swimming the skies we spoke of, so blue,
Rhythm and notes were never effortless,
Sensing the bass like your fingertips’ caress,
Your charisma can draw,
Me beside,
The treble feels raw,
And I abide,
With depths not yet reached,
Inner layers not yet breached,
Trying every way to pour out,
Though it seems time to sort out,
Every newly charted position,
Every unsavory gut suspicion,
I need to padlock my heart,
It’s been a smooth re-start,
Of emotions once built-
Emotions once burnt-
Embers and ashes mark the way,
I’ll cement my lips,
So I can’t ask you to stay,
I’ll hide my hips,
To keep sinful thoughts at bay,
I want you reaching far beyond the body,
Far beyond the rustle of those muscles,
Far beyond the pupils I disappear in,
I want the essence,
The presence,
You project,
I may object,
When I analyze,
I must be wise,
And go with the merciless beating,
That is the heart I need to capture,
The pure feeling of mutual rapture;
I need your love.
I went to hear a writer read
And boy, was I surprised!
The attendance was quite sparse, despite
It being publicized.
I love her writing, read her books
And it was so exciting
To see her in the flesh and listen
As she read her writing.
She answered several questions then
Prepared to sign her latest.
I didn’t stay, although this book
Is probably her greatest.
‘Cause even though I am a fan,
The library is where
I find the books I curl up with
On sofa, bed or chair.
I feel a little twinge of guilt;
I cannot quite deny it.
The author’s reading of her book
Was just to make us buy it.
But still, I made it to the store
To show some fan support.
I did what I could do, and yet
I feel I came up short.
The war rolls on
gasping for redemption
screaming for life,
but all that comes is
wretched death
isolated in battles
publicized in lies
the raging war rolls on
as the fire
falls to the floor.
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