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I looked for you
In rainy streets
That met my tears
A mixed concotion
That broke me.
I sat on the curb
Not minding the wet
Hoping it would
Cleanse me of you
I Looked at my hands
That once held yours with
Our very fingers together
Like the rest of us.
I knew not
He watched me
Now
Your friend and
I are
Glad you left.
All rights reserved
Uhh Who  Feb 2013
Bubble
Uhh Who Feb 2013
As the dizziness sets in from fatigue
And you still taste the guarine and caffeine induced concotion from 6 hours prior
You **** away the neon green drink and the buzz it gave you
And chemical imbalance sets in
Your body crashes and your mind feverishly fights against that urge
To fall into the land of sleep where your nightmares
Stay ready to remind you of everything wrong with awake life
Something a net with some feathers can't save you from
Nothing can rescue your mind from itself
Except the mind itself
How absolutely diabolical
Almost as diabolical as
When
Right before you slumber
You get
That boost of confidence
Or that earth shattering idea
"Yeah, I'll take a crazy risk tomorrow"
Or
"I'll do what I always meant to do tomorrow, for real this time!"
Then you wake up
And nothing
Changes
Ever.
7/10/12
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2017
the ontological zenith, i.e. i'm thinking about thought... and by an ontological zenith i mean nonsense, since thought per se, is a non sensual experience, given that it's an experience of being conscious, or the cartesian sum per se.

                               the supposed "trinity"
    the 99 names of allah,
                                         and the 72
           of the hebrew god...
99 - 72?
                                                   27,
     and only given a bias toward a skeletal
            "image" - sound a bit like playing
   the earliest game, namely (ping) *pong
.

but i find something troubling,
how some accumulate
   words
   as objects, as some
accumulate objects as
         "etymological" roots
of wanting riches they can
               exfoliate in,
peacock around in palaces
of gold...
     but i'm no rhetorician
in the sense, that i might
peacock with my knowledge
of a fair number of words...
  which is why i sometimes
mumble,
        when speaking,
     and have no desire
to become erudite on a stage...

laziness?
         nope,
just a way to avoid
                                  a headache.

and it's always a return
                   to the cartesian "equation",
i have no idea as to why
there's this regression,
            
   beside the point, which i'll make
anyway, once i point out:

   nietzsche - 'a polite society doesn't
permit dialectical dialogue'...
          well well...
       aren't we living in a polite society...
last time i checked,
    people used the fist more
             than the tongue to convene...
yes, the citation is not verbatim...

       well, if no one is going to engage in
dialectics, so much for talking
about reason the holy grail of objectivity
as synonym-zenith of western culture's
   individualism quest...
         the ****? i must be missing something...

those shouting leftist sociopaths
    and those pompous right-wing
            blah-blah-bragging antoinettes?
   well, one side has to have proton (+)
qualities, and the other side has to have
  electron (-) properties...
               but there's the neutron side also,
thinking:

ah yes! the point!
             for a long time philosophers treated
thought as a subject,
      rather than an object...
    meanwhile psychologists came up with
thought being an object rather
than a subject, and out came
    the object ego, which turned schizoid
and became the trinity of subjects
   known in pop as ego, superego and id;

that's why psychology treats thinking
(thought) as an object...
    rather than the subject,
since counter-philosophy, psychology
stresses the second portion of
the cartesian equation:
i am subjected to the elements,
   to the state, to the crown,
          why would i desire to be also
subjected to thought?
   better not think, and have rants,
that "holy" right of free speech.

these days thinking and silence is
disavowed, abandoned, an orphan...
  how does that sound in legal courts?
   homicide with diminished responsibility?
  that's not a technical question,
  it's quasi-technical, but there is
homocide verdicts, and there are
  verdicts which
  incorporate diminished responsibility,
i.e.: the insanity plea.

i blame philosophers for distancing
            themselves from jurisprudence.

i still think that by treating
     cogito as an object,
  rather than a subject matter, allows me
to liberate myself from the psychology
  of the ego being a subject matter...
which would explain,
  if cogito (thought) is an object,
   i can't perform such science-fiction
allowances as
            telepathy or telekinesis,
which also implies the realism
    attaining self-fulfilment
   and independence...
          
   otherwise known as greed / selfishness -

but that can only arise when
   thought becomes an object,
   an object that cannot be penetrated,
for one, as psychology exposed / gave a new
tier of "reasoning" crafted:
  that the ego per se,
      became a subject, that split in a freudian
concotion to three parts...
     for one, the christian trinity is one
thing, but now that we have a second trinity...
   imagine thought as an object,
   i.e. a lack of lucidity,
  e.g. when solving a sudoku puzzle...
          at some points to rub against
the custard...
  
    isn't thought an object then?
    it's a very real, sisyphus moment -
although pseudo the myth -
    because the object seems unmovable -
i.e., it seems to not budge,
                       that's why this is
an anti-psychology assumption:
       i am subject to the object that is, thought;
in pig latin:
   ego sub sum in ego...
    ****, how to put it...
        i (am) subsidiary toward the object,
       that is thought... (**** it, just the prefix,
  as way of shortcut)
   ego sub- sum, quando cogito esse sum...
whatever...
   you'd think that having attended
     a catholic school, they'd bother to teach
you latin... but no! oh no!
                                        wankers;
i'm guessing the reason they didn't bother
is because i went to a catholic school
  in an irish neighbourhood...
          now? now it looks like little bangladesh.
Ash  Apr 2018
Live
Ash Apr 2018
You are not meant to live in stillness collecting dust
you are a concotion of wild adventures and day dreams

Explore foreign lands of make beliefe
travel through space and time to other demensions

Talk in languagues centuries old
make friends with the poeple who love with broken hearts

Create your own realm of magic and beauty
flight the darkness live to love another day
find what makes your soul burn with a passion  

Live.
Travis Green Oct 2023
Every moment with him is
An exciting adrenaline rush
That makes me lust
For his bang-up robust thugness
My clean-cut, coveted crush
My hunky lover stud

I hunger to drink him up
Like a ***** concotion
Love him hard like addictive drugs
Escape in the enchanting mantuary
Of his embraceable manliness

Hold on to him firmly
Feel his pleasant, seductive warmth
How he charms my heart
Consumes me with his ruling power
His lingeringly gentle touch

Feels so magical to my vibrantly velvet skin
I hanker to dive into the mesmerizing world
Of his phenomenally passionate dreams
Marvel at his brilliantly vivid
And fantastic masculineness
Like stellar cherry stars
Like the smooth, shining moon

I wanna ride the currents
Into his magically masculine world
Squeeze his athletic *** cheeks
Melt in his mesmeric presence
Ensnared by his treasured muscularity

Yearning to lick him all over
Stride on sunshine
While I taste his sweet, tantalizing existence
Feel his hands on my impressive hefties
Rub my ripe, walnut-brown crests

Hold me from behind
Blow my mind
Slide deep into my romance route
With his long, thick pipe
Excite my entireness

Make me breathe like crazy
Kiss me wildly
Choke my throat
Stroke my voluptuous frame
Engulf my senses

Indulge in his *****, sultry beauty
Pound me into another otherworldly realm
Pull me nearer to him
Blanket me in his blazing fervency
Smoke me like Locoweed

Make me reach marijuana nirvana
Where his top-notch rock-solid hotness
Makes me fall in line with him
Our bodies pressed together
Steamy sounds of high-energy
Homosexual *******

His arms confine me
I see my entire life in his inviting eyes
His manly sweat entices me
He brings me unexplainable delight
Spanks my eye-candy backside
Comes to an earth-shattering ******
Showers me with his creamy, savory man chowder
Wickson Will Apr 2019
every market with a mad man,
Shouting loud as he can,
Carrying gourds and a rusty can,
Walking highly strides apart,
With his stick beside never part,
Every morning in joy he'd start..

Wake up!wake up!,Sleepy town,
Welcome sparrow bye!bye! owl,
Why can't everyone be up at dawn,
Town is dry streets are lone,
Brightness of today you all disown
Get up!or i throw stone(s).

Since a kid here i belong,
To be the town alarm i have grown,
Others smirk-face others frown,
Rolling up in bed others yawn,
It's a new day ***** have crowed,
Now stand up!its no longer cold.

Harambee let's build this nation,
For ourselves and future generation,
Why sleep like on a Havana vacation,
In everything we need dedication,
Of sweet and bitter is lifes' concotion,
Now rise everyone be on motion.

With my voice,leaders i woke up,
Some came back others my help stab,
Some listened others said it's crap,
Today all their fates are stamped,
Seen others how life has slapped,
Rise up sleepy town time is bad.

— The End —