Tank all your profiles,
Cause they're tightening a snare.
𝘞𝘩𝘰 are you identifying?
Are these my views?
Is that my perspective?
Is it 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦?

Tank all your profiles,
Cause it's harder to get ******* physical than digital.
It's either a check or an x
To be marked onto your square.
A few fascists' dream
Is a legislative nightmare.

Low-Grade “Intellect”

Low-grade “intellect” at play —
Stone-age nonsense, dead and grey.
It respects obedient sheep,
Has no room for wit that’s deep.

Few exceptions still remain,
Fewer yearly — that’s the strain.
The BEAST turns fools to broken clay —
Its crushing grip grows day by day.



---------------------



Obey or Rot

No mind, no spark — just dead routine,
Praise the brute and serve the machine.
Mockery’s banned, resistance crushed —
The herd obeys. The world is hushed.



---------------------



Crush the Swine

Dumbed-down minds in chains of lies,
Mocking truth, while freedom dies.
Cattle bred by fiends in power —
Rot sets in. It’s their fine hour.



---------------------



Ashes of Thought

Brains are gutted, hope is dead,
Wretches crawl where minds once bled.
No revolt, just vacant eyes —
A world that thinks no longer dies.



---------------------



No One Will Return

The lights are out. The sky is sealed.
No wounds to heal — all hearts congealed.
No cry, no fight, no final breath —
Just silence, rot, and crawling death.



---------------------



Statistical End

The numbers drop. The curve is clean.
No rise, no fall — just flatline screen.
The system notes: “All functions ceased.”
No mourning, wrath, or wrath released.



---------------------



After the Last Word

No echo left. No blood, no trace.
No ghosts remain to haunt this place.
No eyes to see, no lips to name —
Just drifting dust. No one to blame.



---------------------



Observed Anomaly

A flicker gone on Sector Three.
No signal since — anomaly.
A trace of carbon. Slight decay.
Life-form: expired. Logged. File: “Gray.”



---------------------



That Which Remains

No shape, no name, no pulse, no cry.
The stars burn out. The void drifts by.
Yet thought — not thought — persists, unmade:
No light, no dark. Just silent blade.

Not witness. Not the flame. Not ash.
No grief. No time. No final clash.
It is, without a place to be —
A breath beyond eternity.



--- Total 9 poems. ---

the light flutters like ribbons,
the light gold leaf and flickering

amber, the light tenuous in her
gentleness, slumbering with her whims

and her sleep of blue earth, and air,
breath of joy, breath of dust.

night holds us and her daydreams are
a forgotten song, and night is like

the streams of water that awaken with
summer and her cool rivers of air, night with

her paradise far from the gathering
of limb and ledge, far from the leaves

of the dusk where the shadows tremble and the
water turns itself into tears, and we hear the

ghosts cry to the pretty sky,
sometimes we hear the ghosts cry.

I heard the worst cover of Radiohead,
Some man was singing Creep,
But with a polka swing.

He knew what he was doing,
The crowd wasn't too happy,
Yet, each word he sang,
Came with more pain,
Than the original.

How much do heavy thoughts weigh ?
Just enough to crush you
Just enough to squeeze you through the unforgiving sewer grates of life
They roll over you like a high rise pick-up truck on a drunken Saturday night
See those possum eyes open wide before splat
How much do you really think ?
Perhaps as much as thirty pieces of silver or your brothers keeper .
How much do heavy thoughts oppress you ?
Subdue you ?
Demean you ?
Demote you ?
Destroy you ?
Deport you ?

Only God knows and he's not saying .

There’s a new black cat
Running around my
Apartment complex,
Where has it been?

My mind murmurs,
As the cat yawns
By the street light,
Distracted, as if it
Know I’m watching.

I turn on
My cigarette from
The filter,
A subtle sacrifice
Slipping through
My fingers,

The cat is no
Longer here.
It’s gone.
The night swallows
It silhouette
In silence.
Maybe it was never
Meant to stay.

I sit a while,
As everything slips,
The smoke,
The silence,
The cat,

Even memories
Have soft edges now,
Faces blur,
The color of eyes,
Smiles and
laughs.

Like breath on a mirror,
Vanishing before the
Night turns old.

Still, I wait a little
Longer just in case
It comes back.

Your word is kept by the promise of this:

a sun glowing in the brightness of dawn,
rivers flowing always to the sea,
grasses blowing in the summer's yawn,

so make your promise true to me.