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Michael John Jun 30
i)

that is a supermarket
where we gather our sustenace
-a magical emporium of mirrors and
music-surveillance..

for we have many laws
both legal and moral-
thou shalt not steal!
bleep?

ii)

our technology is theft
and will bring an end
and there are those who say
about time-

we shall return to fire
we have paid our debt
lord..
that, is a fast food outlet..

iii)

but there are those who enjoy
the convenience
and running after wildebeest
not for them-

that building is the town hall
choices and democracy
peas or beans
to you and me-bleep..

iv

that´s a pub and there is
a hospital
there, the police station
a symbiotic call-

alcohol....!bleep?
one cheap narcotic readily
available and socially
acceptable-

causing mild euphoria
to depression and sometimes
violent behaviour-addiction
common place..

v

bleep!
frightening?
where-as marijuana
giving peace and well-being

possessing health-benefits
mental and physical is hunted
down like double parking on a
bank-holiday..bleep?

why?
mostly tax reasons.
bleep-tax..
ignorance-

vi

we would burn old ladies
that distribute herbs
bleep-words-power and money
and ***..bleep?

-the way we procreate
each culture has it´s take-
we were taught that the
children of god, adam and eve

in the garden of earthly delight
were innocent but not to eat of the
forbidden fruit-(reputably an apple
but subsequent speculation cast doubt-

more likely a fig or cherry moyet
in keeping with the climate)
but a serpent-(vilified ever since-)
tempted her- eve took a bite-(being a woman

when told not to do something..)
(and vilified ever since-)
and so they were cast out-
into this world of sin..

bleep?we were children-
(but the apples reputation
remains intact-)
we turned out odd..bleep..


each culture has it´s belief and
art-that is the museum-
they sell the best chips in town, there-
i had a war once over vinegar

bleep?no,you would n´t believe
it.. we will fight over anything..
which end of an egg to open
football or music..

vii

bleep?-why-
mostly bored-bleep?
-wearied by dulness or
sameness-

our system demands it-
it outwardley promotes individual
spirit but we are alike-if not
then it would n´t function..

(if someone is different then they
better have good reason..)
we spurn this similarity-
duality-

cultures that are similar
often war..
but if we did n´t demand
greasy hamburgers

made from noses and spleen
where would we be?..bleep..?
so,what about personnel anarchy..?
bleep..

viii

here, we have war between
the socialist-liberal and capitalism
individual-we will fight over anything..
we are warrior..

our brains create serotonin
that crush bone and  worry
later..we shake hand and give
a little kiss and make heart shapes

and grin inanely-
but for some reason we hate each
other-don´t know why..
bllep..yes,bllep..

ix

now, that is a bank-bleep..
you have to go?
ah,you are looking
for intelligent life form-

try the moon-bleep
up their symbol of
love and darkness
diana noble hunter..
Esfoni Jul 2016
I don’t like Hillary
But I’ll vote for her
my feeling’s personal
But her acts are not

the other guy speaks of
bleep bleep, dot dot
no interpretation thereof
melting words, in a ***

7/30/2016
Àŧùl Jul 2013
Rhythmically Pulsing,
Unfailingly Beating,
Tirelessly Pumping,
It doesn't until last rest...
It doesn't rest until last...

The "Dag-Dag Dag-Dag Dag-Dag",
The "Boom-Boom Boom-Boom",
The "Bleep-Bleep Bleep-Bleep",
It doesn't get tired normally...
It doesn't normally get tired...

The heart-ache happens,
Aaah-aah-aah-aah-aah..!!
Tired-old rig starts failing,
The fading "Dag-Dag Dag-Dag Dag-Dag",
The failing "Boom-Boom Boom-Boom",
The fainting "Bleep-Bleep Bleep-Bleep",
The pain then subsides to either of the two...
Either it can take a loan of few more years or..
It halts ultimately to relieve itself & the bearer.
My HP Poem #352
©Atul Kaushal
Arati Apr 2018
bla bla bleep bloop.
bleep bloop...
bleep bloop... bleep bloop blop?

blee blee blee bloo...
blee bloo blee bloo bloo.

bla bla bla blee:
bla bla bleep bloop
bla bla bleep bloop
bla bla bleep bloop.

blee bloo bla?
This poem means a lot to me...
NuurSeraph May 2014
I circle °§° when I'm attending to high priority problem solving...I get that "call", comes at any hour all the time.  
I am a creative, straightforward problem solver, of that I serve a Use.
I don't sugar coat or concern myself with asinine diplomacy when what needs to be done takes precedence over graceful depositary.
  
I'm the bullseye solution spokeswoman, I see past the distractive story, connect the dots, then go in for the **** of the comfort zone, I do not speak enchanting hokee, to smooth the shock of my delivery.
  
I Call it Out for What it is, then lock my eye on each target who owes explanation to my Question, I go down the board until I'm satisfied, Cold Silence lets them shiver just enough to feel the Cold Choices they sold, then I sit and smile with ease, and Offer plausible suggestions to **** the problem, fast, and with no remorse for their poor professional Choice.

We reconvene within the hour.
I listen to their fumbled excuses, but they always impress with a touching integrity, owning their choices made for reasons I understand, but will not stand...
"Gotta keep the Machine running, even when it's broken."
  
I receive official plan of action which I must always find compromise...but immediate action is immplemented, when I get my way, The take down hits'em where it hurts, the sleezy ****...
the **** is no small fish, the **** are the bleep bleep bleep with sanctioning power, so deft proceedings must start the the transition within reasonable forecast and market stability, but last 8 months showing progressive movement towards bleep bleep speaks louder, never trust the newscasters story, bleep bleep, it's looking like we will pull through, but turbulence is never far away.
  
Buckle up, stay cool, this baby  is clear for landing and a safe arrival.

Still I will °§° circle, seems spinnings my thing.

Break to planned position...
my service gladly offered overwhelming but I signed on I like the thrill but not much time to chill
CLStewart Mar 2016
Fo ******>mink coat escrow
bleep bleep bleep!

Lighters not heavy but about empty anyway. Been up since before sunrise and nothing to appease me- I wanna lay my head down and rest.

Triumph! is to overcome my battles of the every day work week with sleep TV narratives and political upheaval, reading Hemingway's short stories when its not locked up behind a metal locker- must I say mental locker.

bleep bleep bleep!
bleak bleak bleak...

and the phone alarm goes off.....
SassyJ Jul 2017
Strings sharpen the plane of my words
Psalms heaves as the knife cut my words
These blades shall never hurt me anymore
These blades are the weapon of the unsuffered

Once I locked the heart within a flame
Turns and meanders of the fearless and lame
These blades shall never hurt me anymore
These blades are the weapon of the unsuffered

Angels whispers of the undue fortunes
As tears billow in the depths of the tunes
These blades shall never hurt me anymore
These blades are the weapon of the unsuffered

The rhythm cuts me in halves under troughs
Diced under the authority of dragons
These blades shall never hurt me anymore
These blades are the weapon of the unsuffered

Here I am once again, overturned all latches
Words once again over unfaded skins
These blades shall never hurt me anymore
These blades are the weapon of the unsuffered
The pen is back on :-)
Erin Schenke Nov 2010
Waiting all alone
waiting on this cold table
waiting for the doctors and the drones

I feel the scratch
of the itchy cotton gown
on the narrows of my back
as it climbs up and down

Displayed I lye on the medical tables hard cold steel
It seers into the crevices of my bones
I ponder the lone window and wonder if it's real
I listen for the bleep and bloop of medical tones

Nurses walk by in a mechanical grace
poke and **** & tap and touch my face
and then proceed to leave without a trace
with no hint of knowledge of my medical case

Waiting all alone
waiting on this cold table
waiting for the doctors and the drones

I'm a big girl, I'm a big girl
I begin to chant in a simple rhythm
as small as a ball I begin to curl
I'm abandoned inside this glassy prism

The dead silence creeps inside my brain
I want to scream to fill the deadly gap
but the cold thick air of silence brings pain
I comfort myself and say it will be ok

My breathing begins to quicken
my eyes dart around the room
only comfort is the fear which I am stricken
my sight goes bleary as darkness looms

Waiting all alone
waiting on this cold table
waiting for the doctors and the drones

Tears sting the corner of my eyes
I want someone to hold my hand
Oh God how I want to cry
but the only thing there is the bleeding arm band

The test begins with the thickness of barium
It slides down my throat and clings to my esophagus
It tastes like chalk and pandemonium
they want me to suffocate I guess

I chug and chug as the pictures are snapped
x-ray upon x-ray of my stomach and my back
Drink more Drink more They tell me to do
Nervously I shake and say, anymore and I will puke on you

Waiting all alone
waiting on this cold table
waiting for the doctors and the drones

Even more poking and prodding ensues
but of my stomach, ribs and *******
I lay rigid as a board from the pain of each touch
I grow weary of this tiresome rues

The tests are done
and the coast is clear
I am left alone
to dress myself in fear

Dismissed and discharged to walk away
they file my chart with a robotic smile
now for the wait of endless days
I'm lost in my mind's land of emotional exile

Waiting all alone
waiting on this cold table
waiting for the doctors and the drones

Pins & Needles Pins & Needles
I wait for the results
Is it stomach cancer, an ulcer or both??
In the dark I am kept like followers in cults.
Shashank Jan 2018
black skirt climbing up her shining thighs…
she pulls it down and the excitement dies

from the men around her: “****, she’s fine!”
looking up from her phone- she’s next in line.

“may i see your id?” asks the giant,
she shows it to him- acting compliant.

female, black hair, brown eyes, twenty-one.
everything checks out- “stay safe, have fun.”

once she steps through those guarded doors,
she puts her pvc plastic back inside her michael kors.

no ‘x’ on her hand, but an ex on her mind-
she steps onto the dance floor and begins to grind.

many men manage to embrace her swaying hips,
bite her beautiful neck, and kiss her thirsty lips.

from their mouths flows a river of lies,
while hands below swim up sweating thighs.

she’s feeling ecstatic, but he wants more,
her “friends” watch as he carries her out the door.

to say “yes,” she’s in no position,
so he advances without a proposition.

the next morning when she wakes,
in funny places her body aches.

next to her he’s fast asleep,
her phone rings: bleep, bleep!

texts from her “friends” fill her screen-
things they typed, they did not mean.

“we’re worried…  where are you? text me the address!”
she gathers her things and pulls down her black dress.

tiptoeing through his apartment, she quietly closes the door.
she’s quiet in the car still, afraid of being called a “*****.”

when they asked her to come out that night, she said: “i don’t like partying anymore.”
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2016
it's inherent ontology, it's not even necessary to process inherited ontology; inherited ontology can be riddled and lost to abstraction like the invention of crosswords as antidote to the drilling-in of the Bible... but inherent ontology? inherent is a tautological invitation to italicise the word ontology - tautology anti synonym - the doubly stressed, point origin secured, but from two adjacent / adjective angles - well, might as well be a compound, the adjacent-adjective, when language meets math and math meets.... d'uh... or simply arithmetic, because that's how it's easily translated, arithmetic is grey people and math the rich... language the poets and grammar the farts.*

a shortened critique of pure reason -
                                                               ­   a) based on phenomena
                    (things most likely talked about)
and
                                            b) based of noumenna
                                        (things least likely talked about)....
i.e.                    a) and the ego implant,
and                                                     ­ b) the god implant -
likewise the zealots on either side,
bleep bleep beep r r e r s.... and muslims...
i forgot to mention that Kant forgot
to mention the trigonometric foundations
as justifying owning a villa or whatnot,
the same foundations of having
the implant ego secured and willed
are the same parameters of the
implant god secured and thought
the point being dynamic parallelism,
mid-way between cosine and sine
rigid fluctuation tangents occur,
the ridiculous abbreviations, the p.s., and ibis.;
you're basically born with ego
or you're born with god -
there's no woof woof Pavlov chime chime in between -
ring-a-ding-ding-surprise?
there's no side-winding to create cinema -
being born with ego is explained clearly, coerced
with monetary affairs;
being born with god is explained "clearly", coerced
with murderers, lastly -
no psychological theory will box-me-in
given the lost tribalism and the usage of
the trans-valuation of the synonym of thing -
with money came slang - and all thorough evils,
with slang, synonyms, antonyms, critique of vocab.,
Arizona in the ******* Amazon -
i'm basically saying what Kant said:
god isn't uncool or whatever atheism tends to forget,
it's an implant of functioning, we can't rid it
by argument, and we certainly can't accept it
by prayer - unless we're dumb enough to do either
for worth of understanding tornadoes;
because that's were Seymour Hoffman started for me,
filming Twister.
Coop Lee  Apr 2014
othello wolf
Coop Lee Apr 2014
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                america, americultus, americate, dubiously *******.
::: our gold-flecked bodies.
blackbirdian danceparty, i'll go.
washed-up beach bottles and all our feet amongst them curling time.
teens dream in orchid; they wait for stars and dark and los hombres of good dust.
they wait on eyes, and on embers, on belly belly.
jellyfish flashlight shrine.
we eat acid and strawberries and butter in the cemetery,
and feed foxes lizards face first :::
                us lost ghouls on school-nights.

                flash tag jazz, and yellow bicycles.
::: that hot eternal light.
that candy colored smoke don't smoke; go south on her body.
then thoughts form thoughts form action, form twangs all tuned to air.
& we, as notes, we notes harp like light
to dust.
our glistering hormonal thrusts beneath sheath of liquid love. her eyes,
with those multi-speckled strands
infinitesimally drunk :::
                seed from my ****.

                pearled halo: smoke above my head.
::: waves and machines and weekends. filtered by the long ****
of existence.
boys wait in rooms of hotels for more drugs, and the girls bringing them.
like caterpillars on silky thin treadways,
with nothing but the flavor of our passions to ignite the way. we
exacerbate the boundaries of our intentions. we
curl under sheets, bending sheets of light and sound. we
flakey emaciated flakes. [sequence suffered time in motion] we
                dirt. it’s what we are; dirt.

                we are druggernauts, tasting ourselves along the iridescent brim.
::: we crawl up cross-glowing hillsides toward portals and faraway
bleep-blorps of hot god-head calibration.
we sticky-crackle go burn. [nature puzzles]
the brain shifts back; twenty-one grams they say the soul weighs.
they say things.
cherry blossom tree tips in the dark.
tele-portal surfing with an intergalactic pizza priest, and his satchel of secret sauce.
he heaves in the corner; rebirth :::
                tendrils pulled tight, everybody **** chung…
previously published in the Whole Beast Rag
http://www.wholebeastrag.org/othello-wolf/

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