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I'm doing 380's
degree by degree all I can see
are B52's
rear gunners, point takers and what does that make us
barbarians?
the new cowboys and Indians?

Time frame,
it's an old game in a strange place with a new face that looks down the sights and yet the stars still shine.
What's mine is mine and I'm taking yours, that's mine too
rear view gunning and
point takers running the show but where do we go from here?

We're going to bomb today to the middle of next year,
it'll be different then,
we'll all be older and wiser men and yet,
Big Ben,
News at Ten
and the stars still shine.

Everything changes but stays the same,
time frame
time again,
armaments
arguments
distilling some truth 'til we dispel all the lies and in the eyes of the cat who
has seen all o' that
nothing amuses him more than the ground that he's walked over before
and
degree by degree all that I see
are the B52's
and yet
the stars still shine.
In my world everything's 20 degrees off target.
Stevie Ray Oct 2014
Red Light shining bright through the window in an edgy ally, where you can smell the sin and witness
lustfilled eyes of corrupt and narrow minded men.
Watch how they pick their flesh, a desperate attempt at relief of the madness lying within. A brief escape from a screaming consciousness's plea for help.
Young girls ostracized,productized, capitalized sitting in symbolized shelves. Behaviour manipulated to seamlessly service the brainwashed consumer's shallow needs. Cattle literally abusing human innocence in a legalised system.
A caged bird, where tears can only fly freely behind void eyes.
Desperate to the point they would sniff the coke from the dollar bill in search for small remnants of solace. Ironically it's the thought behind that dollar bill that put her there in the first place. Ironically it's that same dollar bill that might bring an oppertunity to escape.
Might leave a small opening in the cage. Emphasis on might.

A bedroom, where the nightlight shines darkgrey
A small boy sitting, fetus position, under his older sister's worn out desk
Never before have you met someone so young
weighing the options, positives and negatives
about life and death
testing, poking the knife he has in his chest
nobody has taught him anything about coping
good thing he knows everything about math instead
broken, his sister pinned down in father's bed
last time he accidently walked in
he was nearly beaten to death
He grabs the knife and seperates his soul from his flesh.
Society labels him and million others 'A Tragedy'.

Delivering freedom on the spot, dropped from high altitudes
by B52 Stealth Bombers, Lockheed AC-130's, F16's and unmanned MQ-1 Predators.  The Democratic system crashes into farmers, families, children and other people waiting for the food drop today. The explosion burns everything away.
Their souls desperately in search for their bodies which now lie scattered in ash, they can't go back to the physicall plane. They are forced to break away from their 6 month old daughter who 'miraculously' survived that day. Democracy making way for western influence, orphans turn into kids who perceive their nightlights dark grey.
Soldiers spot a baby, in a bloodbath, sitting.
Militairy lights hover over the scene, the blood reflects back a bright red.
This part of the city turned into a Red Light District.
The epitome of irony was a spark of creativity in the mind of a mad architect.

The kid is swooped into a country whom mercilessly obliterated her parents. Little brothers and sisters send to their dusty graves with the President's consent. Sixteen years later she meets her fifth one, social workers don't know what to do with her. Another two years later she's institutionalised, filled to the brim with drugs satisfying the needs of pharmaceutical companies. Trapped in a straight jacket, between four white walls. Being used to purchase meds to keep the production going. The least the useless can do is a word invented by capitalism: consumerism.
So they shall consume, such a harsh forced fate. Everybody's mind would break.
For those who's sun shines grey, where salvation waits on the thin line of a sharpened blade. I'll tell you, suffer needlessly. The world thrives on you.
After Beck kin me in One Direction, and thence
Upon meeting me (in am i am the walrus who also
doubles up as mister kite - on windy days) Act Naturally
Because Crying, Waiting, Hoping For No One
in particular who will bring delight lite, like Good Day
Sunshine prompting me to perform The Hippy Hip
p Shake while Seals and Crofts dine with the late Jim Croce.

When we r close and come together, I Want To Hold Your Hand,
I Want To Tell You,  I'm Happy Just To Dance With You
The Inner Light from your being guides this fool on the hill
who needed to Get Back To The USSR boot my B52 combo
Cars getup kept Stalin this Joe Schmoe as glanced up
at passersby along Penny Lane.

Lonesome Tears In My Eyes this Mother Nature's Son
(a grown mwm),  Of Love, this modest no name brand Sun King (Elvis) at two score and nineteen Van Halen ZZTop Young Blood, who sweat his tears completing Orbitz in tandem with Earth, Wind And Fire (On A Three Dog Night) for...someone to call my Eleanor Rigby, He Jude, Honey Pie, et cetera.

Friend this Marquis De Sade light skinned (caucasian) sated bloke,
who (on green Sade Doors days) ambles along the boulevard of broken dreams axe sing (as a Petty Fuel doubting Tom
please axe a Pink Foreigner or Devo tad Survivor (asper this
Heart felt gun shy yet rosey guy) to board the pearl jam AC/DC powered Reo Speed wagon to Nirvana, particularly during a Black Sabbath.

Although aye Faith No More (and doo to Bad Company abetting my bad Hair line),I seek a SoulAsylum, where Our wings could travel charged via a super duper AC/DC Def Leppard shaped device at the speed of a SoundGarden while playing in Marcie's Playground, we Nsync like a Led Zeppelin into the depths (comprising many a Puddle Of Mud) ideal for Rolling Stones unable to Journey intoAerospace amidst Talking Heads.

If an absolute nyat, no, nada...sans the opportunity for us soar
like Eagles (where Air Supply quite thin) then I (Joe Schmoe
Money less), would like me Nickelback to purchase a ZZ
Top hat to travel incognito like a Foreigner and Survivor
of Earth, Wind and Fire maelstrom that turned his Motley Crue
into a teenage wasteland of Indigo Girls.

Tis best for this fool of a Meatloaf on the hill
Envision himself to be a Killer Grateful Dead Talking Head
   now lifeless per being terminally ill
   tumbling while tweeting n twittering jill
whose response an emphatic nyat, no nill
to help carry my pail, which stung like a quill
bryn mawr the place name along rail road still
and quiet even for Lady Madonna
   who might hear the blackbird song or a whippoorwill.

Our Wings could travel at the speed of sound
as we rise like a Led Zeppelin into the heights of Aerospace.

If an absolute nyat, no, nada...
the opportunity for us soar like Eagles
then I (Joe Schmoe Money less), would like me Nickelback.

best forU2 to text this fool on the hill
tumbling while tweeting n twittering jill
whose response an emphatic nyat, no nill
to help carry my Nine Inch Nail, which stung like a quill
bryn mawr former place name go win n One Direction (with me self as a former groupie of Traveling Wilbury's) rail road still  
might hear the blackbird song or a whippoorwill.

aye ham a non Blondie passenger, Who once
didst aboard Jefferson Airplane property of one Joan Jet.

This offer meant for U2 and haint no Cheap Trick
nor available to another Super ***** boot a once in a lifetime Luvin Spoonful of one humungous Kiss.

from -- juiced another beetle browed, civil chap, decent dude,
genteel guy, eclectic edified egghead, a Foster Child with preference for Pearl Jam Goo Goo Dolls, who goes by the pseudonym
of Arctic Monkey Beastie Boy.
(alternately titled: perp hosting everclear discord)

jump'n jack flash ("hot for teacher")  
     halen from three doors down
     tells me "go ask alice"
in chains about jane's addiction,

     which haint no green day natural bliss,
but super ***** ping
     cheap trick tripped up mendacity,
     where motley crue crew

     doth abba sol lute lee
     get feted among stone temple pilots,
     overhead foo fighting, droning, buzzing
     b52's chauffeuring  prince, Queen Bee Latifah  
     (and their entourage), thru aerospace - criss

crossing the boulevard of broken dreams -    
     rem mem bring diss
dishabille jester, who points a goldfinger,
     and also nods a golden earring,

while keeping arms akimbo
holed at this crowded house,
     in Orlando spurs dawn
     ting idea to tie a yellow ribbon round

     the ole oak tree (with a pink bow
tie), while devo
shin hull lee gesture ring feigned emo
shun null rescue toward brother matthew scott

     (turf riff hick guy), he monitors fo'
the opening royal wedding,
     as feted groomed consanguinity linkedin    
to mother Mary (i.e. thee Judeo -

     Christian bartered bride)
     all a day glow
majestically evoking, an electric light orchestra
     showering hall and oates domain ***

varying kaleidoscope,
     sans manifold dramatically,
     viz scintillating from indigo
girls deep purple raiment (strobe light effect)

     court of king crimson entrancing guests
     with somber non joe
king poise zen awaiting know
wing lee on cue to issue marching orders,

     whence proclaimers salutary formidable low
worrying church fathers regarding im mo'
mod dissed flagrantly loosening mandate re: no
     longer requiring chasuble couture accouterment

imposing a breach pro
pushy hating king crash test dummies
     pleasing secular status quo
bull heavers delivers crisis within liturgical credo
     cleaving via row

ting stinging viz liturgical heart felt
     iron maiden motorhead engine
     aired 21 gun salute amidst
     rose soundgarden mutiny    

qua parochialism creates woe
begotten lachrymose kinks
     on black sabbath sowing yo
yo wing confusion as cream colored police chief
     Hieronymus Bosh heads to ground zero.
when on a lark, this primate shut his eyes
   until sight formed slits doubling up as a wink
this earthling stared hard and scrunched brow
   unintentionally mimicking,

   the familiar Auguste Rodin statue
   likened to a pose when one doth think
perhaps said captive pose pondering
   (similar to me) about life on other planets

   while I stared at lunar surface
   akin to a disc or dime sized skating rink
awash with luminescence
   and imaging himself whisked away

   by an alien, synonymous
   to the peculiar millions miles distant pastische
   manifested entity than didst slink
a non hue man feline looking cat in the hat

   comical creatures decked out entirely in pink
soft halos conjured up saintly mink
or...a far fetched thought suddenly
   came to form in my mind,

   that this har creature a found missing link
whose nocturnal glowing facade exploding charade
   possibly a message
   or motion nothing more

   than routine smoothing out an anatomical kink
on front and back oh head resembling
   a Doctor Zeus characterization,
   viz a harmless rat fink

hm...maybe a vestigial progenitor
   of former birth by Gaia now extinct
though from afar, the b52 shaped being
   aye espied as fur ball affixed

   with a long elephant like snout to drink
and appeared to lack occipital orbs,
page number two:  

   yet evinced possible mode to see via a *****
impossible to restrain me noggin
   appearing to nod and blink,
--------------------------------
hence entranced my attention fixed
   from faint (perhaps a feint)
   flickr ring meant as playful faux
   role playing lunatic humorous acting wry

impossible to decode explicit antics
   (of spacial cosmic guest),
   no matter eyes nearly shut tight visual
   wondering if non verbal communication

   of mine correctly interpreted
   meant to kibitz and vie
despite impossibility to validate,
   a continuous effort yours truly did try

fixing thy gaze nee straining
   with alm aye might to esse spy
if cheap trick concocted entire visage,
   which might not constitute life form

   (admitting this chap to prevaricate,
   and be full of baloney),
   himself prone to confabulate
   (dropped one to many times on the head)
   when this rocky lunar image,
   a moon scape comprising nothing
   boot ham and cheese on rye.
I was thinking that this is a good time
to
catch up with some friends of mine
unfortunately
they weren't thinking the same

unlike me
they didn't have the urge to see
what scandals the clock had
marked on me

a good time?
guessing it's any time we enjoy.

I enjoy old time,
pre decimal
when dinosaurs were commonplace
and holidays were spent at home.

Christmas?
what yuletide ride on you on?

Christmas has gone mate
sold off to China by
the welfare state

no presents for anyone.

There's a moral clause
for Santa

dilemma's are the nemesis
we can
stay indoors, get wired
or
go to work, get fired

I want to be inspired.

Drop me from a B52
you can do it
I
know you can.

Now
I'm
off the beaten track
eaten dinner
can't go forward
can't head back
limbo
looms,
which reminds me of the old
cotton mills
on the rolling hills of Lancashire
and the yolk yellow eye of
the fried egg sky
in those Summers
long ago.
Infamous one  May 2020
B52
Infamous one May 2020
B52
Writing about changes
Sometimes they happen
Rolling with the punches
Taking steps one day at a time
Always giving never taking
Sometimes thoughts of giving up
Overwhelmed taken for granted
Would never give up on them
They are quick to pass sent away
Fighting to stay denying rejection
Never felt apart of the circle
Always out looking in wondering
Treated different being labeled
Not made to fill the box
Been outside looking in
Never meant to be inside
alaric7 Jan 2018
America, loud, clear, obvious, imperial perfidy all embracing, but local Quakers oppose, college kids’ resistance, pre-My Lai inundated.  Saturated, drowned in futility, onlookers
at the far edge of war, a genocidal spectacle. Vietnam, marker and  scourge, a wound before we knew much of art or thoughtfulness, puzzled, concussed, chewed up.  Bodies, cities burning fell out of tvs, in black and white, NBC, CBS, ABC.  First mass incineration of another culture for our generation, introverted, autistic, active, angry, furious; image-immiseration in the holocaust of b52's soaring over that Asia America punished.  Age of conscious impotence, advanced corruption post JFK Umrica satrapy, pentagon techno-ghouls, tiger cage consciousness.  By necessity taught to shrug it all off, the dominant savage imperial real roaring up to this very present.  And he, known from grade school, uber-masculinized, marine corps, ground troops, he many small but comprehensive slaughters witnessed.  Soft sad lonely boy came back ram rod sharp, abrupt, angry, fragged somehow somewhere.  After a few years at pulp mill, took shot gun, blew his life away.  Sad terribly lonely hunter boy who dreamed of trapping and fishing only, in a far
distant cabin off the Sheep Lake road to the mountain called Old Glory.
Does it seem to you that a B52 is circling the square?
front to back waiting to attack does it seem like that to you?
who are the angels that watch over us and what are their names?
who's playing *** black with the stars as the backdrop and does the man sleeping rough in the parking lot care?
(alternately titled:
this ****** temple pilot ready for Styx)

I hate tubby a nuisance
     boot ma checking account...
suffered a major hit strafed
     with a shock king
     (difficult to absorb) 'bout
mid morning today August fourteenth,
     tooth how sand eighteen
     and got rushed with clout

to the nearest emergency triage facility,
     the doctors (all
     named Piggy Penny Banks)
     shook their head with doubt
prognosis for recovery requires more'n
     just a dime a dozen,
     (or quarter back) appeal,
hence my plea for posting,

     this helter skelter heroic measure
     summarily and in fact
     donate myself (earning Purple Heart
     as a non veteran)
     bone a (er) fide done deal
yea, aye even forgo thine
     **** a doodle doo lil pecker,
     which minimally doth
     newt rue, stir, nor ring

     atrophied house broken
     barely visible ***** tis docile, and
     (like a game ****)
     ***** nilly able
     at a moe mince notice
     dir wreck lee (stand stiff)
     head over heal
no...no..no, though

     strut that eye feel rendered poverty stricken,
     a sudden dark mood
     finds me less eager tubby alive
asper thine primary (albeit only)
     checking account poorly
     weathered a kamikaze nose dive
with the plight of pennilessness
     unexpectedly looming...

     (parental advisory) breaking news at five,
when motley crews auto be buzzing
     like a b52 sized bee hive
ah...mine posthumous fame,
     and fortune posse sub bully
     as palliative relieving
     grave gallows humor
     small consolation, whereat
     I cannot fathom to facebook,
     snapchat, nor do the shutterfly jive!
Hypnagogic spell immediately cast
overpowering drug induced state fast
overcome even those who just woke
prolonged narcotic effect could last
bajillion years (hyperbole to wake
any lil lulled reader) superfast.

Before he/she succumbs without blame
impossible mission monseigneur or dame
to break loose against buttressed bed frame
magnetic pull overpowers
superman/woman and/or lame
nope, I can't rattle off any specific name
only no man, woman, nor child can tame
overpowering urge greater than whatshername?

Ja Sleeping Beauty, or similar
facsimile thereof within eye blink
shutters lids with soundless clink
quite elementary ma rinky ****
poem, but would ya expect me,

an arrogant, defiant, haughty,
career punster who doth hoodwink
matt er of fact Scott
**** trumpeting ratfink,
meanwhile, I will not let thee think,
lest ye become mettle some as hot zinc.

And what thwart my feeble
attempt to bewitch and beguile
quite aware ye probably ready
to spew glippy glop gloopy bile
spurring lifesaving recourse
insane asylum, cuz bedlam

forces thee to dial,
and splutter exhibiting harried style
swiftly tailored demeanor
hooping I get just desserts,
and be condemned at trial
within interim and meanwhile...

Yours truly will exalt inside
unit b44 downing
one after another
B52 eventually died
(jettisoning these lovely bones)
at least say to himself,

while gratefully dead, he tried
to curry lunacy, (albeit harmless)
across the the web, world wide
reading experience this
letterman being your lucky charm guide
into outer limits of twilight zone
ha... ha... ha... no place for ye

to run and hide,
which bolsters me prejudice and pride
without sense and/or sensibility
(think Jane Austen),
whose ghost would chide,
one twenty first century wordsmith,
who seeks a bartered bride

hmm, maybe someone allied
i.e. linkedin with AllPoetry,Cosmofunnel
FaceBook, MyPoeticSide,
PoetrySoup, Prose, All Poetry,
Hello Poetry, Tumblr...
I even roll out welcome Matt
for thyself tug get shanghaied.
you may kiss the blarney stone if it makes you feel at home or
you can kiss your **** goodbye, ha, you laugh,
but some try and I have lots of time for those types.

Those B52’s are still dropping confusion
exploding the conscious
exposing corrosion,
but
no one talks of corruption!

I struggle along wondering if it went wrong, where?

The light shines through and I do know that you can see me,
some thing or some one preserves me
and that is what connects

— The End —