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jon  Apr 2021
A moms love
jon Apr 2021
I’m toxic
A little psychotic
I take zyprexa, an anti-psychotic, I don’t know if it’s working
My own fault though, I keep self medicating
I take the pills they prescribe and they help but not when my mind is racing
Speed, it’s ironic really
Because it slows me down and I am able to function
I can show affection and my emotions seep out of my bones
But it causes everyone to leave me alone
Is it my fault? Is it something misdiagnosed?
I don’t know, I only know how I feel and I use when I don’t know how to deal
Life is roaring rapids, I fall out and slowly drown from what has a hold of me
I don’t know what else to do but self medicate
Its another thing I use, a crutch
When I can’t stand by myself and don’t reach out to anyone else
I’ve lost my mind, I tell everyone I’m fine
I’m always thinking of a line whether it be drugs or a rhyme
I’m not kind on the come down and I hate my entire being when I’m rude to my mom
If I were to have a clone I’d beat the **** out of myself and tell her what’s really wrong
She makes sure I have what I need especially when I wretch my sadness all over the floor
She never shuts the door in my face when I need a place, without her I would be misplaced
One night she was shrieking and it doesn’t matter that she was drinking
The feelings were in the air, they were something tangible that I could grasp without being an ***
I saw sadness, rejection, neglect, frustration, anger although it’s a secondary emotion and that’s what she uses to mask her raw emotions
I saw hatred, not for me, but the addict inside me
She’s the only one who doesn’t call me crazy, she lays in bed with me when I feel like I’m not in control
She does breathing exercises with me when I really just want to fall
I make a lot of commotion and she still loves me as her son
I am all of the above when on drugs, my heart still hurts but I’m full on love
My family and friends have been pouring it into me and that’s the only thing keeping me going
I’ve said it once, but I’ll say it again, without the love there’s no reason to be alive.
Without the love, it’s failure to thrive.
Without the love, I won’t survive.
My mom is my rock, she keeps me steady and let’s me take my time to tell her when I’m ready. This is for her.
Nothing Personal May 2012
I knew I was dying when you called.
I knew I had barely weeks left
when you said you wanted to meet.
Then came the big news
You were supposedly pregnant
and I was the father.
When on earth did that happen?
I thought a millennium had past
since we last dated.
Back then,
Men still used to hunt in woods
and live in caves
savagely eating each other
when time came.

If I told you all this,
your Catholic sentiments will be hurt.
I barely agreed to meet.

The sun did not miss the chance to disappear
Horizontal, bull like clouds bellowed past the golf course
and winds blew like a ****-storm of hail and blood
It all hurled on my face as I rushed to work.

I remembered how some and perhaps all children were born innocent
But they did not choose stay that way.
Some were caught cheating
some were mortally punished.

The omen was bad.
I met my boss at the boss-stop.
That murky bit of time when you know you
are working late to avoid meeting your boss
and yet ,
you would meet him and
he would stare right at you
a terminal stare.

I decided I will drink coffee
The sun came up
and a girl with beautiful hair
asked me out.
I told her
"Time is limited"
If you want grandkids,
tonight is the night"
She said she had ovarian cancer.
We went out.

I know I had cheated on you.
Maybe a couple of times in the past.
But not on rainy Thursdays.
Not when the amore wasn't with life
but with death.
But see ,
I did that too.

God graced me when the rains didn't stop.
And you did not call back.
All the oncologists were on leave
all headed to warm Florida beaches
They have seen enough deaths this year already.

I knew October was coming.
My dreaded October.
I decided to keep dating this girl.
And the skies decided to stay murky.

On a October morning,
when the sun shone
miraculously
you dropped unannounced to my house
and asked me to marry you.
I resigned to my doom.

A war broke in a Middle Eastern country
And somewhere else in North Africa.
China was shook up by a 8.9 earthquake.
Giant tsunami waves rolled up towards
the Eastern face of Europe.
Australia passed a racial law.

I died on 17th October.
They said without much pain.
Few came by to the funeral.
People decided to cremate me
and blow the ashes away.
There were few people who attended.

You gave birth to a lovely child.
My girlfriend found she was misdiagnosed.
They found oil.
Miraculously.
Stephen Spender got the Noble Peace Prize.
I did not see the sun shine that day, of course.
Chris D Aechtner Nov 2021
BLAST   —   direct focus on a terrorist virus
that swims in breath and touch,
in globules of spittle and ssnot see,
waiting to plant roadside RNA bombs
in nostrils—from flesh to newsflash fantasies

with

a Fear-O-Meter Lockdown grip
of Crisis Management Economics:
Gaslit Fiat economy crash test dummies
tested within psychosocioschizological
experiments of the psychobacteriological

transfer of power, control, and wealth—

stats data for thinktanks and simulations:
which strategies are best to get the peasants  
to willingly offer up their lives for an illusion
of safety and protection, what causes people
to remain compliant or to become renegades.

Capitalism, the revolutionary meant to usurp
Queens and Kings, corrupted into a negative
Technocratic Corporatocracy: a Royal Trash
death cult that feeds on its young, sacrifices
its youth to scams, wars, and stolen futures:

a Technocrat Herr Doktor drug pusher
that plies the skin of trial control groups
for the venom of Warpspeed fangs—wraps
its coil around a bundle of willow switches
supple with youth, its victims kept alive

as a fuel source to burn in the corporate engine, and kept weak enough to require another fix "For the betterment of the whole."

(Gaslighting fills mandated shower-coops:
"Trust us, you're sick, and it's your fault.")

Pollute people into isolation against an enemy that has never been truthfully isolated and purified—
an Orwellian leap of faith that breaks:
a crusher of foundational laws,
a crusher of critical thought and bones.

"Destroy (transform) your dreams, milestones, and livelihoods for your safety and protection. We are doing this for you. We care about you. These numbers, these awful numbers are your fault! You're to blame! It's all your fault!"

"Make sure to vote for me come next election."

As much as North America is a globalist,
the New World is also its own experiment.
Fortress North America: the Eugenicist Manager founded upon colonialism and slavery that outsources its crisis economics—
highly contagious, bit with its own snake oil,
an experiment observed to show symptoms
of AIDS, North America attacking itself
in many ways, symptoms of having been
grazed and groomed for decades

in contagion-based sociopolitical templates
that result in acquired bipolar autoimmune
disease: past enemies and geists attained
boosted immunity to defend, adapt—learned
to deflect Sun Tzu's Art of War into itself

with its own momentum. "Unrestricted
Psychological Warfare": a process of confusion and doubt that leads to the demoralization and dehumanization of the target enemy via the subversive tactics of propaganda plowing, cultural memetic warfare, the infection of economy, politics, military, scientific and educational institutions and systems—
cybertech and media espionage and warfare,
all of it leading to symptoms of extreme

polarization and social moral tribalism—
a decades-long psychological, physical
and spiritual draining of the enemy
into a weakened, toxic state, barely worthwhile to conquer fully. The enemy does the rest,

finishes itself off with:

Acquired (Red Auto)ImmunoDefiency Syndrome

Red CONtroll COVID-19 debt slavery—
pandemic crisis, CoVfefe crisis, energy crisis,
population crisis, climate crisis, racism crisis,
market crisis, war crisis, terrorism crisis,
ISIS is is cry sis in crisis and crisis
in crisis debt slavery to the State: Toadies

for the "New Normal" Big Pharma-Big Tech
mechanical heart engine that thrums
with a beat that Zooms in on, Zooms out from
false-positive test results amplified

and distorted into AIDS:

Amplified Information Distortion Syndrome

and

an Acquired ImmunoDeficiency Syndrome
in conjunction with a near-infinite number
of variables and determining factors—
an Auto-ImmunoDeficiency Syndrome of
body, mind, soul, and political systems
cruising along an acquired, contagious loop
of a negative-sense RNA socialist Autobahn—

highly contagious, highly experimental in
unprecedented moments of crisis and mirrors: reflections of reflections of reflections
amplified and bent
in sleight-of-hand misdirection and deflection with the virus holding a mirror's face outwards

while

an mRNA 'treatment' infects human cells
to conquer and command them to become
bomb making factories that create
SARS-CoV-2 S-proteins—yes, yes, "inactively" teach T-cells with double-think McCure-all bandAIDS to 'help' identify SARS-CoV-2 RNA. Understood. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction

(for the Terrorist within)

"Here's a fast-tracked vaccine that supposedly boosts the immune system that you're being commanded to weaken."

GMO sleeper cells and non-celled sequences
that can attain causality and symbiosis with
drug and antibiotic resistant organisms,
are sold as the cure that ills

and

misdiagnosed and misunderstood symptoms
of anything and everything
in-between that we've known and seen
are blamed on a laboratory Chimera:

the scapegoat terrorist virus designed
to be highly contagious and gentle to its host
for vaccine programs: Mary's Monster attaining the flame of life within
its Promethean host.

Who made who?

Who knew that the FDA NIH CDC
WHO-Fang North American China Flu Clan

flew the fear and media spread. "Wait for our
next update." Live TV, live virus

with billions of shortsighted treatments
adding ripples to an overflowing soup bowl
of trillions x trillions of RNA particulates,

inactive/active — off/on — negative/positive

Switch:

Spin PCR in the Petri dish:
One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish!
What a lot of fish there are!

This one has a little yellow star.....

("Mission Accomplished")
1 17 2021
We'll never move forward as a society as long as our children are left to die from abuse , sold for *** like a piece of meat , bullied by their peers and killed on our streets ..
Depression misdiagnosed by primary physicians and medicines that only help half of the affected , high suicide rates amongst our young civilians and soldiers alike , addiction rates that continue to spike .. When the nails rain down again we'll most certainly be caught off guard , zealots hung by their thumbs and water boarded will lead the charge .
Martyrs in shackles will fan the flames at the base of the tower once again ..
Woefully few ambulances will be available to minister to the dying , not enough heroes to answer their cries , political parties will begin their denial , those that remain will swear revenge against "the Cowards .."
A faith will be declared illegal and guilty , this time the Eagle will have zero pity ..
She will pursue the same mistakes of previous nations , attempt to firebomb the very soul of a civilization . The Crescent Moon has endured many military occupations , defended a long list of potential aggressors , their bones lie in antiquity , across her deserts and within her cities while the Lion , Eagle and the Bear scar another generation who will in turn castigate her enemies silver cities with relentless terroristic abominations ..
I witnessed the carnage in a dream , hate bursting at the seams , flowing like a river down city streets , sweeping the innocents into the storm sewer , oblivious to their screams .
We worry so much about nuclear weapons as we wipe each other out with pipe bombs and pistols , we fear chemical weapons while drugs are destroying our nation ..
I wonder how far the funds for one missile would go towards treating children with cancer ? The cost of one grenade could feed a homeless man  freezing on the street .. The price of one Humvee could provide shelter for the forgotten society tonight in this misguided nation of ours ..
Copyright December 6 , 2015 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Shaded Lamp Mar 2016
Angelic choirs spring from the silence
Gravity comes from your presence
Shaking off my prudence
Sail towards my coast

Surely there is more to it than this
Trying not to fall into the abyss
The echo of an unmet kiss
Joy a passing ghost

Lonely island in a featureless sea
Unnoticed as you sailed passed me
Standing detached in the library
Dreaming of almost
Brian Hoffman Apr 2017
Guarded we were kept in rooms like cages
It felt like prison cells for us to cave in
Screams burning our throats and lungs with spit stumbling out of our tongues in which burned like hell
The constant reminders that it's suppose to heal and help
But medicated up we were and I don't call that any sort of help
Lab rats we were the test
Pills and pills pour out over and over again
Our rooms guarded at night with little freedom we were locked in
And when we were allowed out we were constantly mistreated
For me I was misdiagnosed not once but several times which made me feel so defeated
After a while my mind went bleak and I lost track of time
Day in and day out everyday felt the same and I couldn't break the endless cycle it was a strain  
And being said everyday felt like a constant struggle to get "better"
But how can you get better when you're inside locked not able to see the nice summery weather
From what I remember my roommate clawed the walls like there were chains and shackles on his hands
He tore open his knuckles trying to break free but there was no escaping so we laid in our beds hopelessly
When it came time of night I got to call home I was high
The pills they had me on were not right
So I slowly broke down in my mind
A place to help one heal but it took so much time
I was scared shitless worried that I was finally out of my mind
Because I knew I was not in the right state of mind
One bad slip could have cost me my life
But when I was sent here it was all a lie
My mom told me I was seeing a new therapist, but here I lay institutionalized
The unfortunate Bipolar chaotic mind of mine
Once I was set free I thought I felt fine but
Weeks later sadness and depression yet again overcame me
Some pills and whiskey tried to take me away to heaven which I'll see some other day maybe?
That's when I sent myself back to actually try and learn something this time around I wanted to find my solid ground
At first it was hard because me and the guards watching us all didn't get along  
When I tried helping others there I was shamed for it as if it was wrong
How wrong can it be helping those who hurt and are helplessly unhappy like me
The guards were always pretending they didn't see a **** thing
People cried and screamed on their knees, snorting pills, and cutting themselves with anything they could reach
So broken so reckless so helpless one should pity
When we sat and discussed things in group therapy we were judged and mistreated
But I myself came to learn and grow
So from broken fragments I was able to rise which did feel better than getting high with the people I once called friends that after all this left my side
I didn't let things get to me I sat I listened I spoke dearly
The bullying of others didn't help me along, but I knew I'd get out sooner if I was nice and acted happy and didn't play and edge them along
There were constant fights which I had to split up
Some of the others didn't seem to care nor give a ****
But luckily for me and the few friends I made we worked together to better ourselves and get out of this place we found to be so ******
With the right state of minds we surly flew out of the cages we all grew
One by one we were set free
Hopeless birds we used to be
Bipolar drugs metal hospital fly high
wolf mother Mar 2014
if i was a twig
maybe i'd be able to sleep

trunks are fussy
roots are cumbersome
and you, you are but the smallest bud
a dying breed, a life everlasting
see-saw my wood-rot rings
and make a use for me, will you?

i am nothing but oldwivestales and folk songs
with long-forgotten lyrics
and misread meanings

misdiagnosed
misused
mistaken for
missed

— The End —