So you're saying you're proud and
Grateful to have so much freedom, opportunity, wealth
Well, I'm not.
Sociocentrism is an ugly, unnatural state
Everything we have takes away from someone else
We try to pretend there's no connection, that the plight of others is cause by their own failing
That we are deserving
Convinced that this is all here for us
We take and take and take
But every terror we inflict on anything "else" is a terror upon the self
We protect our so called civil liberties with wage slavery, chemical abuse, and ecological terrorism
Profit baby, profit über ales
Well congratulations to us
This is nationalism at its finest
No, I'm not fucking proud of it
If you want to take credit, be my guest
Just ask India about policies of profit over regulations, about denim and dye and death
Ask Mexico about farming, their take on the "Fair Trade Act"
Ask the rainforest if it remembers what it was like to have trees
Try to find an Arawak to ask anything
Ask 63 countries what it feels like to have a US military base keeping watch
And what would happen if another country tried to build a base on this soil
Or maybe ask why you never learned shit about any other country
Much less about your own
Back in History class
Survival of the fittest, you say?
A dog eat dog world?
Alright, let's play
This country is overrun by dogs, that's true
But honey, we're not eating any other dogs
We're eating poison and calling it food
While our leaders give Monsanto handjobs under the table
We are "the world's leading nation" and we're dropping like flies
No, not dead
Just into hospital beds and prison cells
Our country is filled with poverty, racism, violence, and terror
Not to mention obesity heart disease depression anxiety and PTSD
We're over-medicated malnourished and spiritually starved
We're pissed off at a whole lot of bullshit
That means nothing in the scheme of anything
Fully engaged in the myth of a two-party system
Even though most of what we see and hear is merely distraction
Thank you, media, all 6 of you big beautiful monoliths
I'm so lucky I have the opportunity to be informed!
We're a nation divided by details
While our leaders run in circles pouting fat fingers at each other
Engrossed in this thing we call "politics"
I'm really glad you're proud
They say ignorance is bliss
But I think it's more like a shiny polyester suit
Holding together a parasite infested mess
Sitting in a recliner after a hard days work of trying to stay afloat on a mountain of debt in a drowning economy
Bottles of medication on the table, GMOs in the fridge
Quietly doing what they're told
Never wondering why
Falling asleep to the glow of the TV whispering fear and terror, us and them, buy and buy and buy
The sweet purr of "freedom"
Please let me have several weeks
So that my anxiety can decompress
That I might feel comfort again
Give me several weeks
So the furniture is gone
And we can properly pretend
That there is no history
Past or future
Only the present
Cause you don't need this
And this is just practice
For your epic
If you don't
Stop for a month of Sundays
And really think about
What it is you're writing
Who you're antagonizing
I guarantee that you'll never
Have time to formulate it all
Type for a month
And you'll never get far enough
To encourage bindings
All that bullshit
That makes you RAMBLE
Yeah I said it
You run on at the mouth
Just kiss me
Tell me how you feel
With the mustached upper lip
And your fat bottom lip
Leave me mouth insides
That I have to wipe off
Several weeks before you leave me a poem like this
Don't do it.
I'll leave something that like this
Raucous. On blast. Larger than life.
Don't fuck this up.
I JUST got you a job.
I'm working I tell my mom
staying up late at night as she thinks I'm doing homework
while I actually waste time on youtube and 9gag.com
search cultures, and histories, and groups
wanting to belong
and be a part of
a community, a group, find myself
and then I feel so selfish sitting in my room starting to pity those who don't have food
when the pity turns on my for having no sense of culture nor community
I go to school everyday wanting to learn about everything that I don't hear
about space and stars, histories, wars, and of people who belonged with friends in proximity
I can't work, I try to but I can't
I search up how to look more pretty and attract my crush
and then how we shouldn't care about looks from someone who loves to rant
I listen to punk rock, ska punk, celtic punk, and rock because I can't work
I play my trombone because I can't work but I can do music homework
I read books about history and stars because I can't work but I can learn
You can't go anywhere without good grades they say
so if only i was marked on things I wanted to learn
things I wanted to present for things I wanted to earn
I'm only 15 and don't know where this is going
and now I'm resisting the temptation to erase this whole non-poem that I'm to and froing
with info about my life that only I care about
while I procrastinate like most kids do my age
when I hear my mom shout
telling me to not stay up too late and that she's proud of me working
when I'm actually wasting my time and her dreams
so I'll get back to my can't working
ending this not-a-poem with something it's not doing- flowing
I hope you cry.
That your tears will create waves,
a new saltwater sea, that no one
can drink from without still thirsting.
I hope you bleed.
That the crimson flowers
blooming from your skin
stain past's documents and scar history.
I hope you scream.
That the sound will echo through caverns
and be more beautiful than the Sirens,
yet it be more horrifying than a banshee.
I hope you die.
That your hair will become thorns
your heart turning to rocks
and your body, the poison that kills the seas.
A manual, if you will, on
How to Break a Heart.
#1 - Forget
Forget the person
you are speaking to
has a history and a soul.
Forget they might
go home alone
and drink tonight.
Forget they may
have a dying mother
Forget they may
be dying a little
Forget they may
have tried to die
already once before.
Forget they may
look into your eyes
and see their only hope.
Do not project - that is most detrimental.
Forget the parts
of them that remind you
This is key.
Lie about your dreams.
Lie about your interests.
Fake your level of enthuse.
Make lukewarm likes
into fiery hot loves.
Lie about your heart.
If it's been broken, don't say.
If it's cold and hard, omit.
Lie about the person.
Make yourself sound
much more certain
than you actually are.
Lie to yourself.
Make yourself believe
every single lie.
Now pay close attention.
Awaken to the reality
of what you have done,
that you have gone too far.
Awaken to the next morning
lying against the heartbreak-ee.
Or even many
many mornings later.
Later is even better here.
Awaken to the moment
you realize they love you
and think you do, too.
Awaken to their tearful
confessions and soul-baring
Awaken to your own lie
and fear that you
have been caught.
Please listen carefully. You are near success.
Disappear as quickly as
a dawn vapor
or a cigarette plume.
Disappear without a word.
Run as fast as you can.
No answer is even better here.
when things are at their best
and they will ache
and strings left undone
will drive them crazy.
Disappear and let them
believe it was their doing,
You have successfully learned
How to Break a Heart.
I have absolutely nothing to do this summer,
I feel like dying because my mom is driving me up the wall,
My boyfriend never texts me anymore,
I have many insecurities I can't handle,
Mono ruined my whole damn summer,
Now it's impossible to find a job apparently,
I haven't played tennis in over six months,
Though I enjoy track because I have a few friends,
I HATE my butt,
I break everything,
I shy and I don't even realize it,
I fake a smile every day,
I'm going to fail my impossible US History and Government regents,
Not being melodramatic because it's so difficult,
Nothing ever works out for me,
Maybe if I kill myself,
My boyfriend will realize how much pain I'm in,
And how much I need him,
I can finally get him to open up to me.
This is the first summer I have NOTHING to do,
After a stressful year,
I feel I'm not good enough for my boyfriend,
And I'm all alone when I need to express my feelings.
Long ago the wooden man
Long ago the river damned
The wooden man
His empty chest
The river damned
His steps set
Long ago the river wood
Long ago the man damned
The river wood
Dark deep mystery
The damned man
Sad tragic history
The river once so strong
The wood once so long
The man once in song
The damned once not wrong
Azrael Always James
© Copyright 2013
fearful and waking is no normal state
but leaden hours induce no better heat
than mental light and thoughts of long defeat
in bitter summer we're past the first gate
deep into the dark country bearing freight
of so much history still incomplete
all of it human both truth and deceit
all to requirement but none of it fate
so measure that we find the true belief
is what we know and give to all our folk
upon their waking to the morning chime
of bells that have not known a moment's grief
but ring the ending of inhuman yoke
and bid us all achieve a better time
let them see
the way of knowledge themselves
teach them to read and to aspire;
male and female, brother and sister
the privileged and the children of the streets -
teach them to observe, to speak and to dream
teach them the ways of piercing
beyond the confines
be it each child’s unquestioned right
be it enshrined in the laws and in your statutes
be it inscribed on your City Gates
and in your Hearts and Minds;
let each sit to the sounds of the words and meaning
let each decipher, think and interpret
let each be empowered, guided but not circumscribed
let each explore and discover and capture the voices
and dreams in the very air about them
bring to them the means and the new and the old
regardless of one’s origin and history
each child, male and female
let there not be want and lack of means
let each be fearless
do not hold back any
let none be neglected
and let them be the heirs
to our world -
inquiry and exploration…
let each child live fully the life of the mind
I am just sad and cold and want to die. I am teasing the edge. I can write now, I can write. But not for long I’m already done. There where the ideas of the new era somewhere, locked away in my head waiting for the release of incomprehensible advisors. They kind lathed in blathered pink and with poly-chrome hats, dancing on the rivers boat-moon-spell moments, the kind that happened to every kid at every intangible, hallucinated camp. The one they make up in their head before bed on the streets in the muddy motel alleyway dirt. I couldn't hold back the want to die. As I sat there perched bellow the roofed rim of the building I could feel the splashes of water grace around my ankles, the water had been soaking for hours. I was the always rain. It never stopped, not once in the history of our race. We had to find houses along the rocks, soil was apart of the sea, or at least that’s the way I understood it. There was not time for anything besides keeping dry. It was really a mater of wet or less wet, there was nothing anyone could do about it. The earth moved without relent. I see a penis in the virgin mary. I know because everyone else I know does too, we just want to be polite about it, not make to much racket. I debate even writing again. To who? an upcoming age of enlightenment? To say what is already been said by the mind of every mind in every place, that we are the collective unraveling of the fabric of our own making. I am the turtle. It finally hit me, I am the meekest of all of them, the slowest and most looked down at. I am the capacity of a nuclear wave. I am the only one who knows of my own power. A crazed soul I am. Sold into my own slavery again! I just wean to hear you breathe, to prove there are the balance and manifestation of the infinite love I hid away in my mind. The one love I created with one thought. I am the product of the indoctrination, they left a bomb in my mind. I am altered among the alter and always dying. No one should have to see their soon to be dead mother crawling around on the ground like a bug waiting to pounce on your leg. Too close to home and too soon for my own mind. Some girl who's name started with an M, it's fuzzy and I haven't the clue to remembering. Its all over finally, they are done, I am impenetrable by their foggy morning evergreen attacks. Try to leach and drain off of my unconscious collective. My hive honey. my meat. They are nice in the dream of reality, but in every way they are spiders waiting for the kids to come, they will feed on me first. They will eat. Always i remember our own journeys and I forget to dance most of the time, loose eye lids sweating now, A video arcade. Finished.