Samantha Campbell

Rookie - 0 Points (July 2 1979 / ohio)

Un Or.Gina.Lity - Poem by Samantha Campbell

Stand back
as the virginpoet
clears her throat
and begins
to spit
from my
inner light
of ultimate
eternal being

Why should I
pour out my heart
and let you
see me bleed
try to steal
my blood
your not type O
soon you'll fade
in your
without words
to plagiarize

Why should I
sit back
and allow you
to perform your
heartless deed

When a part of me
a big part of me
is hurting
my heart
has been
from me

It's Nine o'clock
I speak of weariness
in purple sighs
while stars paint
the gloomy sky

And the lady (UN) or.Gina.lity
bemoans her dead babies

Do you feel
like a star now
my thoughts
my heart beats
did your heart
did it
its rhythm

tweaks the dirty
Lil secretive mind
Fellatio plays
teasing mount
of pendulums swing

Guilt hushes your moan
'be quiet or they will hear you'
Self gratification
was it not worth
fictional sweat
Back to peeling layers
off your walls
of UN or.Gina.lity

So hungry for attention
well you got mine

I could burn you to ash
but the stench of falsehood
and the shackles of guilt
Have taken out our eyes

You've been cordially invited
Finder of Gold


My Heart
was ripped
from open chest

You see a woman
in a blizzard distorted
Visions of truths

No plagiarist could be as good as me

Down the spiral slide I collide

Pounding neath this breastbone
my empty cavity echoes distress

Rage climbs into great tension
and I must release my thoughts
perhaps my attempts can solve
to let me rest in utter peace

When tears blot blurring words
my insomnia relieves and fades
upon paper baring scars of ink
Omitting me unto somnolence

I'm the poet
who had you
glued to her pages
getting a rush
from the aroma
of my ink

Poetry is a drug
and I am the dealer

Poetry is air
I breathe it in
exhaling addiction
to the masses

You've tried
to steal
my breath

But all you get
is whats exhaled

Never understanding the true
nature of a poem

You'll never feel it
as deeply
as did my heart

Your holding on to beats
of the past

With trembling tips of fingers
stumble upon tedious backs
and crack bones
they muster plagiarism
into pamphlets

They spruce up
what little is left
of my hearts blood flow
ink through my veins
or.Gina.lity my ass
more like UN or.Gina.lity

is not a form
of flattery
It ranks
in the class
of forgery

In the passage of time
Your work is a vanishing smile
on the face of real talent

Perfect plagiarism regretfully true
You really did have GS fooled
as to the real you
Plagiarizer of real ORIGINALITY

Must be maddening
recreating each failure
for us all to see
again and again

Look how hard
you tried this time
its almost sad
watching you fail

But I know the truth
I know who you really are

Your poems of hate
have no sway over me
I know your only pretending

Sometimes my words
come hard
a labor
days birthing
a vision
Sometimes they come
quite easy
with such ease
written for one's pleasure
but some can't help be sleazy
they'll change the title phrase
or twist a line or two
then claim it as their own
swearing it to be the truth
unbeknownst more than once
if I'm not mistaken
my words have been reshaped
or just simply taken
some liberties expected
but some I won't condone
I don't find it flattering
no matter what is said
a thief is all you are
a feeling-napper
a thought raper
a forger
of true
of art
of the

My style
ever changing
like the outfits I ware

I broaden
my horizons
can keep my style
she'll be stuck
in the past
left in the dirt

I'm the new season
watch my fire burn
I leave a trail
of ashes in my wake

By Samantha Campbell

Poet's Notes about The Poem

Ive been plagiarized is what inspired this

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Poem Submitted: Monday, June 11, 2012

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