video games paradise

Show no mercy
Leave no witness

We got those 1800s vibes
Men with moustaches
Women with moustaches
You ready to Hunt for your lives?

Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock 'n' load up your guns
Snub nose for up close, it's a must
Duck low take it slow, keeping schtum
Wear you out
'Til your absorbed by the mud
Extract with a bounty, that's how it's won
Countin' up our rewards, no need to respawn
We've still air in our lungs.

It's that time again, we close to sittin' pretty
Lord I pray for courage, so light that soul fire in me
Stacks of crucifixes, so we don't run out quickly
Hang it loosely round my neck should it get dark and dingy
Ward off the devils spirits, or beasts made from three sixes
Martini firepower, and no I don't mean drinkin'
Sometimes be something sicker, cos these demons I be killing...
I'm off to hell and back, to stop em from existing

Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock 'n' load up your guns
Snub nose for up close, it's a must
Duck low take it slow, keeping schtum
Wear you out
'Til your absorbed by the mud
Extract with a bounty, that's how it's won
Countin' up our rewards, no need to respawn
We've still air in our lungs.

Guess its our turn now, y'all ready for a feud
Ain't no stopping us growl, we're simply too imbued
That cross around your neck, its just a waste of fuel
The venom flowing in us means conditions won't improve
We'll just keep on marching, until you're twice removed
This is our land you're farming, the boss is not amused
The biggest baddest of us here, do this **** just for fun
You'll never take us all, something wicked this way comes

Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock 'n' load up your guns
Snub nose for up close, it's a must
Duck low take it slow, keeping schtum
Wear you out
'Til your absorbed by the mud
Extract with a bounty, that's how it's won
Countin' up our rewards, no need to respawn
We've still air in our lungs.

Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock and load what you want

Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock and load what you want

Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock and load what you want

I realize that poets are just posers who imitate other poets, in a lackadaisical attempt to be someone that we are not. It is the laziest of arts. I impose my new art, on a floundering mass of dying humans. It is visual, and sound art, in custom made video clips that are impossible to imitate. The tones of color and sound are of my very own. Using sounds of everyday life(at least everyday life of a lunatic) and videos I make on the spot of those sounds. I realized that the Mona Lisa *****, and with kids believing that they can turn into a character from Fortnite, I am hitting at the exact right time. My art is living, in a world that is dying(hopefully)

He took a massive leap
And couldn't believe
That he died to fall damage.

Oh what I would pay
For a flashback video of every happy day
Before it all went away

~My heart belongs to you~
My heart belongs to you
Sorry not you
But My controller.

I sit down playing my game for hours, and hours, and hours.
With my red eyes, I keep playing prolonged.
My fingers are tired, my head is tired and my eyes are tired.
But I never stop.
I stop until I’ve reached my goal…., until I reach my desires.
I guess you can say that I am the type to keep going until I reach my goals in life.
And that’s a good thing.
And When I am done, I fall completely asleep with my arms holding on to my precious controller, all happy.

~Amy <3

-

it was, for her~

a question, a dare to venture into a
place that few would ever visit
more than once in a lifetime

walled with earth, rock, twists and
turns, shadows that move—
bones that lay still

a smart phone was recovered there,
the woman who left it is somewhere
deep in the lower chambers

it recorded her unapproved descent into
miles of dark passages which multiply,
divide, intersect— mystify

images steady at first, a wonderment
of sheer expansiveness, these arteries
go on forever and ever !

"i need to tell someone !"—
                                               "ohh, no
                                                 signal..."

a "sotto voce" begins questioning confusion
as her disorientation becomes a
measure of breath

curiosity now relinquishes to a desperation
of sharp huffs as the camera aims about
in quick jolts, straining to see the
next hopeful opening—

the light stops
working.

minutes later she realizes her affiliation
with the underground brethren has
been met with tacit approval.

her phone is eventually abandoned with
all remaining composure, as a new

and permanent member commences
a delirious marathon down
the corridors of
                             home

—

the recording lasted awhile before
her drowning cries dissolved into
resolution of a sealed fate—

underneath and silent,
amongst thousands

                            of opened mouths...




s jones
© 2020


.