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Big Virge Jan 2019
Redundancy is ...
A ... Horrible  Thing ... !!!

But ...
Who are the ones ... ?
That Most ... FEEL THE STING ... ?!?

THOSE Who .... CONTROL ....
The Employment ... " Bullring " ... ?!?

Or THOSE Who Sit ... " Waiting " ....
With ....

NO BELL to RING .... !!!

For Whom Does The Bell ...
REALLY ... Toll ... ?

Give Me a ... " Drum Roll " ...
Before i'm ... REDUNDANT ...
and left in ... THE COLD ... !!!!!!

The Unions are ... DEAD ...
So Employers Now Get ...
to do ... WHAT THEY LIKE ... !!!
cos' ... Most youth are BRAINDEAD ... !!!

They Always ... ACT BOLD ...
But Do ... What They're ... TOLD ... !!!

Ask them about ... " Business " ...
Not ONE ... seems to know ... !?!
what happens to ... THEM ...
When Companies ... "FOLD" ... !!!

They QUICKLY Get ... KNOCKED ...
When The Ship Starts to ... " ROCK " ... !!!

But STILL .... Cannot see ....
How Corporates ... "PLOT" ...
To REMOVE .... Who they want ... !!!

Because THINKERS ... Will Question ...
The LOT that they've ... GOT ... ?!

While ... " Corporate Heads " ...
are Constantly ... DRIVEN ...

Agendas they have ...
Are Suitably ... "hidden" ...

You're told ...

"NOT TO QUESTION !" ...

That Act is ... FORBIDDEN ... !!!!

But Lives That ... They Lead  ...
Most People ... "AIN'T LIVIN " ... !!!!

I'm NOT .... " David Niven " ... !!!
but i'd like to play ... " BOND " ... !!!

So that I could ... " QUICKLY " ...
Put RIGHT ... All These WRONGS ... !!!

The WRONGNESS ... They do ...
" is hidden" ...................................................... from view ... !!!!

Meantime they sit ... "Planning" ...
and Constantly .... SCAMMING .... !!!
Which ... " CASH-DRIVEN YOUTH " ...
Should now join ... " Their Crew " ...

They look for a ... " FOOL" ...
Who REALLY ... AIN'T Cool ... !!!

To Push You ... Then STICK YOU ...
As if you're just ... " Glue " ...
That they can just ... STAMP ON ...
Until You Feel ... " BLUE " ... !!!

They walk in ... " NEW SHOES " ...
While yours are now due ...
For ... " Mending and Bending " ...
from ... " Cobblers Tools " ... !!!

Like FISH ...
We are ...  " Schooled " ...
Then thrown into ... " POOLS " ...
For ... Redundancy Marks ...
While surrounded by ... " SHARKS " ...
Who Have ... " Their Own Space " ...
In the ... " Office Car Park " ... !!!

My words may seem ... DARK ...
But This Is ...  NO LARK ... !!!

Redundancy's ... groWING ...
The REALITY'S .... " STARK " .... !!!

I'm ... " NOBODY'S DOG " ... !!!
But ... WATCH OUT For My BARK ... !!!!!

The Angels Now ... " HERALD " ...
and Sing to my ... HARK ... !!!

HARK ...
As in ... " CALL " ...

My stories ... AREN'T TALL ..... !!!
But I AM .... Of Course ... !!!

If You're NEEDING ... " MORE CLUES " ...
Try ... " Inspector Morse " ... !!!

Now ...
Those who won't hear me ...
Are on the ... " DOWNFALL " ... !!!

Like NIAGRA ....
They ... " FALL " ... !!!
with their backs to .... THE WALL ...

and Now ... CAN'T Afford ...
The Price of ... " The Stalls " ... !!!

Redundancy Payments ...
REALLY ... DON'T Last ...
UNLESS ... You were one ...
Of The ... "Corporate Class " ... !!!

But ... EVEN They Suffer ...
These words are now ... TRUE ... !!!

When They're ... Out of Work ...
TRUST ME ... They DON'T SHIRK ... !!!

They KNOW ... ALL ABOUT ...
The ... " BENEFIT ROUTE " ...
and then get ... The Council ...
to PAY FOR ... " Their House " ...  !!! ? !!!

But ...
NOT JUST ... " Your Average " ... !!!

They Think That's for ... SAVAGE ... !!!
The rental they're paying ...
Brings Taxpayers ... DAMAGE ... !!!!
because ... " BENEFIT FUNDS " ....

When for ... THEM ....
Just get ... " RAVAGED " ... !!!!!

This is ... " The Coup " ...
When Redundancy ... comes ...

But THIS is ... A Story ...
to give you ... Some Fun ...

I've just been ... " In The MIX " ...
of Redundancy ... TRICKS ... !!!

But ...
HERE'S How it went ...

SO .....
Follow This Script ... !!!

"We need volunteers !
New systems demand,
that certain positions
will now disappear !"

But when ... Volunteers Came ...
They Came ... " LIKE THE RAIN" ... !!!!!
and that put ... AN END ...
to ... " REDUNDANCY GAMES " ... !!!!!!

"We've had a rethink,
and don't need to shrink,
cos people have moved,
so everything's cool" ....

But ...
Here is ... " THE TWIST " ... !?!

My job is ... SECURE ... !!!
At LEAST ... for a year ...

But ...
Check THIS BIT HERE ... !!!

"Your role's been appraised"

and ....

to ... MY SURPRISE ...
From ... NOT Being needed ...

I got a .... PAY RISE ... ???? !!! ????

So Now You See ... WHY ...
A Brother like ... " I " ...
Will NEVER .... Put Trust ...
In THESE ... Corporate Guys ... !!!

Never Mind Their .... FORK TONGUES ....
What about their ... " SNAKE EYES " .... !???!

This thing is becoming ...
A ... Constant WORRY ....
for those of us ... Working ...

" REDUNDANCY ! " ...
It's Definitely A PROBLEM !
Roberta Day  Aug 2014
Redundancy
Roberta Day Aug 2014
Redundancy.
I read my words
and I’m sickened,
that you had this
effect on me. I read
them and I’m fatigued
by the redundancy.
I have nothing to say
that hasn’t been said
in the same way
only reconstructed
to better play the illusion
of new ideas and
some sort of change.
There is always the basis
the substance of being
the substance being
my overactive feelings
and constant repression
of what makes me alive—
this feeds the depression
and I cry when I think
and I’m dead when I don’t
I’m lying when I speak
and lying when I don’t
I’m fighting every day
my feelings when I
have them, and finding
every day, I have more than
I can fathom, and I can’t
always put into words
how or why I feel things
so I tend to repeat
what comes naturally
and when I reread
I am exhausted by
my own redundancy.
Tommy Johnson  Dec 2013
RISE
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
You can hear the voices of our peers being silenced, ignored, shunned and distorted.
Staggering out of their bedroom doorways to the street corner to score a dime bag.
Bright, insightful millennials freezing in search of warmth from something to believe in that will encourage them to look forward to see another day.
Where our economy has made financial prudence clear when talking about education, yet price tags of university tuition's skyrocket.
The refused, the ones with hope but no money or scholarships; tread the streets with the echoes of electro house pulsing in their skulls.
Those who strip themselves down and shred their own morals to scraps just to find themselves and to see their own limitations.
Searching for answers to the unknown, to ascertain what they are, who they are and why.
Timid in high school, pushed along with nothing and no one to put their creative vigor into.
The squeakiest wheels that were never even considered to be given a good greasing.
Faculties giving them lethargic hellos on the first day of school, bestowing celebrated goodbyes to them on graduation day, diplomas in hand.
Now are the ones slumped over in a lackadaisical position contemplating how they can afford an education.
They work eight to ten at seven twenty five an hour Monday to Friday; and weekends staying in as not to blow their earnings.
Those who commute to university and balance a job with it, I applaud you.
The bewilderment of adulthood, the overabundance of pressure and responsibility.
Awakened from nightmares of lost opportunities, missed trains and lost contacts.
To step out of bed and splash water onto a severely distressed face and staring into a mirror with a despairing look.
Then hoping a bus to Garfield to bring back weight for all the embryonic smokers not yet at the point of make or break, just save up enough to pave my own way.
Gazing at the town on a roof top, chugging down the tenth…no…twelfth beer of the night wondering how this all happened.
Wild sensations of kissing an attractive stranger, the rush of touching on things never felt, tasting pleasures only the lucky have known.
The passionate, yet dissolute yearning for that ever eluding ******* adrenaline. Pounding, Pounding, Pounding until the culmination of energy has come.
Flip sided to those dizzying, tear jerking thoughts of suicide, annihilation of ones being, the contradictions of their faith in themselves and the people around them.
Unexplainable waves of anxiety crashing onto the shore of a diminutive island of optimism
Striving to look past the panic, the gloominess and fury that may or may not be present. But to remain composed and press forward to what awaits them.
Coffee keeps them going. Cup after cup, late night cramming every bit they can; into their caffeine driven psyches until the indisputable crash and failure.
Packs and packs of menthol cigarettes to calm their rattling nerves but at the same time killing them slowly. Their lives will seem shorter than the time it took to finish one bogey when death is near.
Marijuana induced ventures to run down burger shacks, laughing hysterical in the car ride, eyes heavy with a most ridiculous elastic grin extending from ear to ear. While inside millions of thoughts and realizations of consciously simple speculations and troubles become clear and unproblematic. So the joy is mirrored outside in.
LSD trips in Petruska dancing and singing in the rain! Making music, making love; playing pretend and creating art. Becoming a family while kicking back under the warmth of an illuminated tree on a cool fall night.
MDMA streaming through the body, everything is as it should be
Beautiful, lovely to touch, wondrous to stroke, marvelous to move.
To contact and connect, converse and converge with the dwelling desire to share what you feel with everyone for it would be selfish and unpleasant to keep it in.
Mushrooms oh the emotional overflow I need not say more but ****.
Then there are over the counter candies, Oxycontin, ******, Adderall and Xanax, painkillers and antidepressants. Ups, downs, side ways and backwards.
Selling addiction and dependency legally to kids. Making heroine, ******* and speed easily obtainable to them. Changing the names and giving out prescriptions so the parents can feel like they're actually helping their children but are subconsciously making it easier on themselves because they cannot handle the way their offsprings actually are. Some parents a feel it is the only way, I wish it wasn't so. Becoming zombies, mindless addicts before they even start to mature into puberty. I've seen it, firsthand front row.
Oh, the monotonous, mundane rituals and agendas of our lives. School, work, sleep eat, the sluggish schedules and repetitions of yesterday's conversations and redundancy of itineraries we had plotted months prior.
Same people, the constant faces of boredom that groan in apathy and hold the fear of complacency.
We talk about how hum drum out lives have become and what we could to put some color in our world but don’t.
We speak of how unfair the system is but ultimately confuse ourselves and everyone else due to lack or organization and dedication so nothing is changed.
We speak of breath taking women we want to share ****** fantasies with but can’t even muster enough courage to send a trivial friend request.
Texting away for hours trying to court those who now occupy our minds and possess our hearts hoping they may allow us to acquire their attention and affection. Calling them only to receive futile dial tones and know we are being evaded.
Weeping on and on for seemingly endless time frames of a dilapidated relationship that was so strained that a miniscule breeze could cause it to collapse but still clinging to every memory as if they were vital hieroglyphics depicting your very essence.
Brilliant theories blurted out in a drunken stupor.
Ingenious hypothesis shrouded in marijuana smoked out room.
Remembrance of friends long gone.
The marines, the navy.
The casualties of drug addiction.
The conquerors or their afflictions.
The scholars.
The insane locked away on the flight deck never to be seen again.
Teenage mothers unsure of themselves, abandoned by their families for they believe that they brought fictional shame upon the family’s name. The fate of the child is unclear but the mother’s everlasting love shines through any obscurities in its way.
Dear mother of the new born winter’s moon may the aura of life protect you and your baby.
The father gone without a trace.
He will never know his daughter.
And it will haunt him forever.
Parents bringing up their kids with values and morals, The Holy Bible, mantras and meditation, the Holy Quran, The Bhagavad Gita, and Upanishads. Islamic anecdotes and Jewish parables.
The names all different
The message the same
The stories unlike
Goals equivalent
Faith
Kabala, Scientology and Wicca
Amish and Mormons
All separate paths that intertwine and runoff each other then pool into the plateau of eternal life.
But do we have faith in our country, our government?
They do not have faith in us. Cameras on every street corner, FBI agents stalking social media, recordings of our personal lives and police brutality. 4th amendment where have you gone?
We say farewell to Oresko the last veteran of the last great war. And revisit the Arab spring, Al-Assad’s soldiers opening fire on innocent protesters, one hundred fifteen thousand lay dead. Bin laden dead, Hussein hanged, Gaddafi receiving every ounce of his comeuppance. War, terrorism, the fear of being attacked or is it an excuse to secure our nation's investments across the sea? Throwing trillions of dollars to keep the ****** machine cranking away, taxes, pensions, credit scores, insurance and annuities all cogs in the convoluted contraptions plight.
My dear friend contemplates this every night laying in bed, fetal position; the anxiety if having to be a part of this.
Falling apart on the inside but on the outside, an Adonis, *******, Casanova wanna be. Who worshiped the almighty dollar, gripping it so tightly until it made change, drank until he had his fill falling face first into the snow. The guy who lead on legions of clueless girls wearing their hearts on their sleeves not knowing he had a girlfriend the entire time. Arranging secret meetings in hidden gardens, streaking into the early morning. Driving to Ewing in his yellow Mustang to woo a sado masochistic girl. The chains and whips do nothing to him he is already numbed by the thrill. Then he comes home, lays in bed until one, with no job and having people pay for his meals.
He knows what he does and who he is wrong. He recites and regurgitates excuses endlessly. He cries because he knows he is weak, he knows he must fix himself. I sit on the edge of myself with my fingers crossed hoping maybe, maybe he will set himself straight.
My chum who can talk his way out of any confrontation and into a woman’s *******. Multitudes of amorous affairs in backrooms, backseats, front rows of movies theaters. Selfish, boastful and ignorant, yet woman fling themselves at him like catapulted boulders over a medieval battle field just to say hello. These girls blind to see what going on, for their eyes were taken by low self esteem. A need to be accepted, to feel wanted even only for fifteen minutes. Poor self image, daddy issues, anorexic razor blade slicing sirens screaming on about counted calories and social status. Their uncontrollable mental breakdowns and emotional collapse. Their uncles who ***** them, their parents who split up and confusing their definition of love and loyalty for the rest of their lives. Broken homes, domestic abuse and raised voices, sending jolts of fright into the young girl’s fragile minds. I send my sorrows to you ladies, to see such beautiful creatures suffer then be used and thrown away with the ****** that was just ****** deep into their *****.
Then I see women and men of marvelous stature, romantic in the streets holding everyone and everything in high regards. Finding beauty in anything and anyone. Enjoying every second as if the rapture was over head eating exotic foods from unheard of countries and cultures. Bouncing to the sound of whimsical , reverb ricochets and sense stimulating music. Huffing inspiration to create something out of thin air. Dancing to retired jazz and swing albums as if no time had past since their conception. Wearing bold colors and patterns, thrifty leather shoes or suede.
Dawning pre-owned blazers because why spend hundreds of dollars on new clothes just to look good but feel uncomfortable with a hole in your pocket. Dressing up but dressing down, so class yet urban I love it, chinos, pea coats and flannels so simple but chic.
At night they go to underground dens, sweaty bodies, loud music and freedom. Expressive manifestations glowing fueled with MDMA and other substances to further their enjoyment of the dark glorious occasion. Kandi kids sporting colorful bracelets, not watches for time is of no concern to them, they have all eternity they know that.
Going to book stores, coffee shops just to have some peace of mind and a moment of silence to themselves so that can weave the tapestry of imaginative innovation. Writing their own versions of the same story, endless doors of perception, reading news papers and taking it with a grain of salt. Watching the news on TV with a hand full of salt. Searching for the real story so they can know if the world they all live in is actually safe.
She who made her own way breaking hearts, rolling blunts and making deals. The flower child of the modern age, left the rainy days in search of radiant sunshine, idealistic. Reality was subjective, purple dyed hair, multicolored sweater with sandals on her feet. A ten inch bowl with bud from California packed in tightly. Coming from Dumont to Bergenfeild then on to Philly to Mount Vernon. Off to Astoria and the Heights. Now to Sweden laying in the grassy plains below the mountains. Good for you my friend whom I have loved, may fortunes of unsullied joy come to you and all you meet.
Since you’ve left I have encountered drunken burly firemen just trying to have a good time. Pounding down Pabst Blue Ribbon as if it were water; as if it were good tasting beer. But heroes none the less.
EMT's, young eighteen years old high school graduates, saving lives reviving people who are a mere inch close to death.
Sport stars getting scholarships thanks to their superior skills and strength.
Striking beauty school students who are into making the people of this world a little bit more beautiful on the outside.
All these people, successful, doing things. Departing to their desired destinations. I see inside them, they carry baggage, loneliness and insecurities. I can feel their guilt slowing them down. All have their loads but it’s the way they carry them that shows who they really are. And to me their all gems.
Not far in Paterson I watch the junkies limping across busy winding street, perusing a severely needed fix. “Diesel!” they shout beneath flickering streetlights, asking for spare change and if bold enough a ride to some shady sketchy place. I give them a dollar and politely decline. They’ll die without it. Vomiting up bile and blood, twitches and shivers are all you feel when it’s not in you. They cannot stop, they need help. Why not help them instead of “assisting” those who are homosexual? Cleansing so they can be granted entry to the kingdom of God. Looking down on people who have found love and understanding and a deep attraction to others who just so happen to share alike genitals.
Narrow minded uproars about the spread of AIDS, nonsense! The puritanical onslaught of those who want nothing more than the rest of us, love. "Gay", "****", "******", "queer", how about "kind", "funny", "genuine human being"? The right to be married and divorced should be an option for everyone to enjoy. The strains and hardships of matrimony are yours if you want them. If you don’t agree don’t hate or harm just allow them to be peacefully. Same goes for anything for that matter, Jehovah's going door to door, Mormons from Burbank. New ideas are never a bad thing, they’re not a waste of time. On average you have about eighty years to mull over your options.
Some people don’t live long enough to do so, cancer is rampant, blood diseases, ****** diseases, natural disasters coming right out of left field and blindsiding the innocent bystanders of both hemispheres. Some go through life handicapped, autism is apparent these days. Schizophrenia, Asperburgers, ADD and ADHD. Some lose their golden memories of their many valuable years walking down Alzheimer's Lane, not being able to remember whatever transpired only a few moments ago but revisiting gold nuggets from from fifty-some-odd years ago with ease. Some go through life delusional or bipolar. Some can't even sleep at night but they still carry on. And if assistance is needed it is our job as a race to help our brothers and sisters, no one deserves to be excluded from the gala of life. Or be denied by society and pumped with brightly colored pills from doctors promising a cure but prescribing a crutch.
Finding solace in sincerity.
The serendipity of it all hasn’t been uncovered and that keeps me going.
“Radiate boundless love towards the entire world above, below and across. Unhindered without ill will without enmity.” Oh Buddha the truth as it ever was.
Who is he who keeps these thoughts from the conscious minds of the population?
Who is it that distracts us from the humbling beauty and overwhelming devastation of this place of existence we’re in?
It’s they who do under the table parlor trick behind our backs.
Those who broadcast mind numbing so called reality TV shows without an underlying value or meaning.
Those who produce music, proclaiming extravagance to be the end all be all gluttonous goal we all should aim to achieve.
And those who turn noble causes into money making scams and defile pure ideas.
And of course those who give false promises of easily obtained  bright futures, those who don’t care, those who steal, ****, curse, bad mouth and lie. But still manage to get elected into positions that more or less decide out fates. Monsters, demons, banshees howling inconsequential worries and leaving us deaf to hear the real issues.
The
Homunculus Oct 2014
Expanding, contracting, waxing, waning.
On the edge of your seat, eyes drooping shut.
Enthralled by boredom, hairs standing on end.
Three bites deep in a paradox sandwich,
Garnished with an oh so subtle hint of neurosis.
Seduced by a routine predisposition.
Reason fading away into subtle redundancy.

Redundancy

Redundancy

Redundancy

REEEEEEDDDDDUUUUUNNNNDDDDDA­AAANNNNCCCCCYYYYY.

Hey, would it be redundant...
If I said redundancy?
Did I say that already?
Yeah?
Better be sure cause homie don't play that.

(Which leads to the distinct and important point that there was once someone narrating this... hey wait. Well, who's doing it now? Seems sort of strange that these words are still somehow finding their way into your- oh wait, he's back!)

Or am I? How do you know?

Maybe...

I was just an illusion this whole time!!1!!11

...and then all of the sudden, it's 5:00 AM.

Again... seriously?

HOW DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING?!?!?!?!?!
Eriko May 2015
to decipher what we are
encrypted transcriptions
in morrow's restriction
tangible redundancy
that is what we are
we run to eat
and eat to keep
this impeccable brilliance
the vision gone wary
horizons too narrow to rise
intelligence naught for
what is missed
skyscrapers and holy rollers
roaming our cliffs today
as we devour electricity
to generate more
stupidity
a never ending finish
I wish to seize
our incredible neglect seethes
in our oceans and trees
try to decipher what we are
we are all drifting apart
we are nothing
but tangible redundancy
Akira Chinen Aug 2019
what has our intelligence done for us
other than soften our instinct
slow down our reflex
made us into habitual
connoisseurs of convenience
curators of insta-gratification  
creatures of know it all
without the need
to understand anything
the universe just
a night sky out of reach
just a spattering of stars dot the sky
all the cosmos overhead
and we are too consumed
by the blue screens that feed
the narcissism of our egos
to look up in awe and wonder
to question the arrogance
of our intelligence
to see how little we know
about the things we know
as we have killed the view of heaven
with the artificial light of our pollution
facts blurred with faith
and we ignore all the fiction
that causes so much friction
that we allow our children...
that we force our children...
to ****** other children
boys feeling like men
poisoned by patriotism and pride
in such a rush to die
for the words of freedom
never stopping to question
the definition of the repetition
and redundancy of war
never stopping to question
the repetition
and redundancy of war
never stopping to question
the redundancy
never stopping
the redundancy
the redundancy of war
as we will not question the intelligence
that infects us with
the sovereignty to be exalted
by our own cruelty
how else could we excuse
our history that keeps repeating
keeps its transcripts written
in the death and blood of the innocent
mislead by prejudice and hate
taught by fear and ignorance
all brought to us
by what we call intelligence

why were we given these hearts
this muscle beating below our ribs
what good is it
if only driven
by the intellect of our minds
our self indulgent intelligence
why have hearts at all
if we never stop to listen
listen to the message
of its beating
its pounding on our ribs
if we never stop to accept the wisdom
it sings in ever silent word
words that need no definition
need no ink or blood
written down in a declaration
of its reason to be living
it needs not our intelligence to survive
our intellect to live
it has its own wisdom
the wisdom of love
and in our grand intelligence
we are too blind to see
too deaf to hear
too unwilling to feel the truth
of how useless any intelligence is
without the wisdom of love
Ellie Elliott Mar 2014
There is a tear in my existence,
the gap between two milk teeth
breaking away from wide-mouthed childlike innocence
and falling out,
lost to ice cream cones and garden fences
teen dream dancing and cool pretenses
ignorant bliss, aimless goals
and the taste of near-empty Jack Daniels bottles
seems wiped from me
like a milk moustache.

Adulthood, what are you but a mistress who is cruel to be kind
curling and winding around me until I choke in your perfectly proper pencil skirt?
What are you but a greater knowledge of the world and a lesser understanding of it?
What are you but a greater understanding of the self and a lesser affinity with it?

Adulthood, what are you but broken dreams and disappointment?
What are you but bigger dreams with arms that reach beyond death itself?
What do you bring except shrivelled skin and nostalgia for once upon a times?
What but wisdom and a sense of sanguine satisfaction?
What are you but blood and cells and bells and *** and terrific notions and consequences and deckchairs and chinaware and despair?

Adulthood, what are you but glazed-over wasted days and self-loathing?
What are you but three hundred responsibilities taken care of all at once, caffeine eyes and welling pride?
What are you but the inevitable crash and getting smashed and suddenly remembering why I should do things one at a time?

What are you but change upon change upon change upon mistakes made again for the millionth time?
And my changes, now lifeless
cause an identity crisis
about whether I'm really any different in the end
the likes of which will no doubt be seen again
when Monday rolls around,
what are you but Mondays, endless Mondays
driving me into the ground?

Oh Adulthood,
what are you but a downsize of naivity, a self-belief redundancy, a vitamin D deficiency and a proper place for everything apart from me?
What are you but desperate faces smashing into one another, drowning lungs, curtains pulled down, curtains put up, curtains being suddenly important? Curtains ******* me up?
What are you but woodsmoke and patios, warm faces, good graces and the ceaselessly mounting cost of Freddos, buildings and building things and falling in love...

And falling in love, falling asleep, falling awake, falling apart, falling together, falling
falling
falling
down.

What are you, Adulthood, but always always getting back up again no matter what, and alarms and reminders and no bed times
but being so tired you start to admire
that even the sun must sleep sometimes,
even if it always comes back up, shining even brighter
until the timing is right until the living is right until the mind is right only then can we stop trying
only then can we die
no wonder the afterlife is idealised
and even then, will I see the light?
Can I stop now?
Is it really alright?

What are you Adulthood, but a long list of questions?
Because I have so much to ask, you see, but mostly

What are you here for, except to show me how good I had it before?

Adulthood, I don't know.
ellie elliott
xtyenia  Sep 2013
Tulip
xtyenia Sep 2013
Beneath the rose, redundancy of death, lie the unquestioned, dances of sleep
yokomolotov Sep 2013
this very fall reckoned
everything loses its meaning under the
strain of redundancy.

I know this to be a perfect truth
but I still revel
in the images I keep sacred behind my eyes,

with all my autumns boiled down (a bare bone),
to a single one for me
that was warm crisp and altogether virginal-

my last one, as long as I live
for it is replayed as each monarch rests in my sight
and with each bird arrowed south-

and I tongue things spiced to remember
so I can go down with memory’s ship
willingly with collapsed and stunted lungs

tenderly warping it into something it never was
bleeding it dry of auburn reds and gold,
my attempts at keeping myself loved-
young.

but now what do those moments mean?
there have been many falls since that one,
nothing but I love yous on walls-

played back so many many times,
like warped vhs, warbling and clipping
the inherent meaning gone or completely scrambled.
EJ Aghassi  May 2016
redundancy
EJ Aghassi May 2016
It's almost redundant
When the needle breaks skin

Art creating art
Defined by hair tied-up
And a mastered craft

Deliberate movements
Of a wrist near broken
Through creative necessity

Many strive to create
Most feel obligated
To spread influence

But there is a something
Different, something strange
In the way one endures the pain

It takes to make
A canvas blank transform
Into something more

Only made tangible
By your will and your
Martyred time

There is something
Incredible
About redundancy

Witnessing art
Self-sufficient

The creative forces
In front of me
words struggle to describe
These wounds won't seem to heal, the pain it stays, it hurts just to feel. Just for a moment, I pray to be numb and have a false sense of what I've become. Broken and bruised, scars that won't heal, building caskets for tears from all these long years. Try again tomorrow, I hear my self say, but it's void when every day is exactly the same.
I do not see space travel
as an evolutionary event
I look at it as an excess
of dissociative disorder
colonialism and the making
of whiteness
whiteness
justifying the guilt
by searching
and searching
somewhere else
not somewhere better
just somewhere else
there is nothing better
than how we evolved
are place within experience
all that surrounds
us is intimately woven with
our sheer experience
that has evolved
without the possibility
of memory
or redundancy
or even a pattern or repetition
to desire somewhere else
is to leave the best
most evolved experience
of being human
organic intelligence
artificial intelligence
has patterns that are not evolution
or the experience there of
they are patterns that are also
of this desire to be some where else
where ever it may be a space
or an entity
an other
counter-transferance
aliens
colonization
product of whiteness
excess
the profit of colonization
dissociative disorder
from the experience of being human
if you teach people that evolution
is something related to a process
that is merely the documentation
of the desire to be somewhere or something else
slavery is a combination of somewhere else and something else
it is like aliens
inherently under control
of a powerful military
actually the alien extracted from
their home
all mighty whiteness
is the most powerful
dissociative power
evolution did indeed give us the possibility to dissociate
but is was designed for empathy
not as a tool to be somewhere
or something else
the experience of
the dissociative human
declaring whiteness
has other opportunity
but to experience slavery
since it is a dissociation
it is delusional
and although the human
dissociating may not be within
the structure of slavery they conceive
they are without
the original
experience
I notice them
organic intelligence resumes
http://www.amazon.com/Escape-Liberty-Elan-Gregory-ebook/dp/B01B8XQYBG?ie=UTF8&keywords;=elan%20gregory&qid;=1459178234&ref;_=sr_1_1&sr;=8-1
Megan McCormick May 2013
The dark rose
Blooms tomorrow,
Never to be seen by day.
The scared coward
Faces courage,
Never to be seen again.

— The End —