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Natasha Meyer  Feb 2015
Arg...
Natasha Meyer Feb 2015
Arg...
Is that a poem?
Arg
An expression?
Arg....
I have no words
Arg....
Alin  Dec 2015
Poission ARG game
Alin Dec 2015
before they made it public
they created the technology
to create living puppets
producing a tapestry of thoughts
manifesting
through the filter
of authentic bodies
and minds

their enchanting color of
implemented poison

they had two versions of the site
one the true one and one the public one

the true one was
showing the nature of a mind
in a spherical wireframe
3-d
projected space

that could make the motives
of a mind truly observable
using this hi-tech breakthrough
(hi-tech for their time only
i.e  their hi-techness is still
bound to time)
to/by/for those
word loving
businesspeople
and hired scientists
and hired technologists
and hired creatives
and hired psychics
and hired you name a profession I will say yes es  
of their time
working for them
for an almost literally ground breaking technology

a time bound technology that showed them an observable truth of the visualized data
a design driven and poached from the participants’ ingenious minds

the public version on the other hand
looked naively innocent
with an amateurish design
using a ready to go script
presenting an acceptable ‘good site’
based on personal motives
of hard working profiles
of young idealist sisters and bros
you know
like teddies pathetically hugging each other all the time

in reality though
snail shells were being used to implement
new poisons for the game
on unshelled ones
poisson as is French
would be prettier term
to describe
an honest organic fish farm
but alas

yet in reality that hugging was distant jutting

to purposefully run a game that entertained
pockets of those who had it boringly full only
to spend it for their own fun
but which they vowed as
for the salvation of their Utopian land made of the
illusion of their materialistic psyche same as their popcorns
which  continually justified as they  repeatedly asserted
these well learned set of words
on communal and cyclic ceremonies

oh my!
stealing intellects as such!
for the game!
game also runs in a closed circuit just
so no one can see it
they have all passed the Turing test
for the game
cool right
and it works

so who on earth could judge its’ ethics
once a reflection of their own minds
even unknowingly the game admins
once falling in love
with unshelled ones
may turn to the unshelled ones
like the prince falling for a Lorelei
they were warned continually
and then still some
willingly stayed so
in love
and disappeared in the game
loosing their body

well whatever
there is a place though
don’t believe me because I say there is
go find it yourself

from that place
the headquarters of this game
is nudely visible
with all of its partaking pawns
because it remains too low a place in the universe

yes there is a mountain higher
where lives
the inhabitants of the residence of the destroyer
who are a little bit bored by now and since some time already
and so the destroyer -they think- may as well decide to
wipe it off - hiring a well fit dragon that can gobble it all in one go
so that dragon excretion may benefit a famine of sorts in the universe
eating that kinda stuff
****  yeack  ARG hhhh
(or Namaste!)
:)
inspired by the last cyborg movie I saw- I love cyborg movies - it feels like homecoming :D
Josephine Lnd  May 2013
someday
Josephine Lnd May 2013
some days, his eyes are full with angst
his arms down his sides, with his fists as closed as his ears
and all I want to say is I know how it is
to be so angry you don't know where to go
because the whole world lights you up like a dry stick of explosives,
how it is to have your feelings being so big they start to feel
like extensions of your limbs,
waving uncontrollably
and all you can do to avoid their friction from setting you on fire
is either to cut them off or keep your arms down your sides


but I step aside, because he can no longer take in my words
his six year old eyes are filled with the nothingness of
an anger so big and unlabeled
but someday, I will tell him and he will understand
I will tell him that even though my blood is not in his veins,
I will cleanse it from soot and silt,
I will be his human shield from this world
I will tear kingdoms apart and slay every last creeper
just to help him level up

and I will uncontrollably, explosively and unconditionally
love him

//

vissa dagar är hans ögon fyllda med ångest
hans armar längs sidorna, med nävar lika hårt stängda som hans öron

och allt jag vill säga är att jag vet hur det är
att vara så arg att du inte vet vars du ska ta vägen,
för hela världen får en att tända som en torr bunt sprängämnen,
hur det är att ha känslor så stora att de börjar kännas
som förlängningar av dina egna armar och ben,
okontrollerbart viftande
och allt du kan göra för att förhindra att deras friktion tänder eld på dig
är att antingen hugga av dem eller hålla armarna längs sidorna


men jag går undan, för han kan inte ta in mina ord längre
hans sexåriga ögon fyllda med ingentinget
av en ilska så stor och oettikerad ilska

men någon dag ska jag berätta för honom och han ska förstå
jag ska berätta för honom att även fast mitt blod inte flyter genom hans artärer,
ska jag rensa det från smuts och sot,
jag ska vara hans mänskliga sköld från den här världen
jag ska slita kungariken itu och döda varenda creeper
bara för att hjälpa honom att levla upp

och jag ska okontrollerbart, explosivt och villkorslöst
älska honom
Richard Riddle Jun 2015
Written approximately1890-1899 by American poet Will Carleton, and is shown as it appeared in the Sacramento Daily Union Newspaper on July 15, 1899. Even in his elder years, my grandfather, Odis Riddle, could recite this word for word, and not skip a beat, mesmerizing all of us grandchildren that had gathered around his chair for the performance.

Enj­oy

"If the weary crowd is willing, I've a little word to say of a lightning-rod dispenser that dropped down on me one day; with a poem in his motions,; with a sermon in his mien, with hands as white as lilies, and a face uncommon clean. No wrinkle had his vestments and his  linen glistened white, and his new-constructed necktie was an interesting sight; Which I almost wished his razor had made red that white-skinned throat, and the new-constructed necktie had • composed a hangman's knot. Ere he brought his sleek-trimmed carcass for my women folks to see and his rip-saw tongue a-buzzin' for to gouge a **** in me.

But I couldn't help but like him, as I always think i must, The gold of my own doctrine in a fellowheap of dust, When I fired my own opinions at this person, round by round, they drew an answering volley of a very similar sound; I touched him on religion, and the hopes my heart had' known; he said he'd had experiences quite similar of my own. I told him of the doubtin's that made dark my early years; he had laid awake till morning with that same old breed of fears; I told him of the rough path I hoped to heaven to go, he was on that ladder, only just a round below. I told him of my visions, of the sinfulness of gain, he had seen the self same picters, tho' not quite so clear and plain;

Our politics was different, at first he galled and winced. But I arg'ed him so able, he was very soon convinced. And, 'twas getting toward the middle cf a hungry summer day, There was dinner on the table, and I asked him would he stay? And he sat down among us, everlasting trim and neat. And asked a short, crisp blessing, almost good enough to eat; Then he fired upon the mercies of our Great Eternal Friend, and gave the Lord Almighty a good, .first-class recommend; And for full an hour we listened to this sugar-coated scamp, Talking like a blessed angel—eating like a blasted *****.

\My wife, she liked the stranger, smiling on him warm and sweet, (It always flatters women when their guests are on the eat), and he hinted that some ladies never lose their early charms. And kissed her latest baby and received it in his arms.

My sons and daughters liked him, for he had progressive views, And chewed the quill of fancy, and gave down the latest news: And I couldn't help but like him, as I fear I always must, The gold of my own doctrine, in a fellowheap of dust.

He was spreading desolation through a piece of apple pie, when he paused and looked upon us with a tear in his off-eye. and said. O, happy family! your blessings make me sad: You call to mind those dear ones that in happier days I had, a wife as sweet as this one; a babe as bright and fair; a little girl with ringlets, like that one over there; I worshiped them too blindly! My eyes with love were dim! God took them to His own heart and now I worship Him. But had I not neglected the means within my way, Then they might still be living, and loving me to-day.  

.-.• One night there came a tempest; the thunder peals were dire; The clouds that tramped above us were shooting bolts of fire; In my own house, I, lying, was thinking to my blame. How little I had guarded against those shafts of flame. When crash! through roof and ceiling the deadly lightning cleft. And killed my wife and children, and only I was left. Since that dread time I've wandered, and naught for life have cared, Save to save other's loved ones, whose lives have yet been spared; Since then, it is my mission, where'er by sorrow tossed, To sell to virtuous people good lightning rods—at cost."

" With sure and strong protection I'll clothe your buildings o'er, 'Twill cost you fifty dollars (perhaps a trifle more), What little else it comes to at lowest price I'll put, (You signing this agreement to pay so much per foot). I signed it, while my family all approving stood about. And dropped a tear upon it (but it didn't blot it out).

That very day with wagons came some men, both great and small; They climbed upon my buildings just as if they owned 'em all. They hacked 'em and they hewed 'em, much against my loud desire, They trimmed 'em up with gewgaws, and they bound 'em down with wires:

They trimmed 'em and they wired 'em and they trimmed and wired 'em still, t And every precious minute kept a-run-nlng up the bill. My soft spoke guest a-seeking, did I rave and rush and run; He was supping with a neighbor, just a-three mile further on. "Do you think," I fiercely shouted, "that I want a mile o' Wire, To save each, separate hay-coclc out of heaven's consuming fire? Do you think to keep my biuldin's safe from some uncertain harm, I'm going' to deed you over all the balance of my farm?"
He looked up quite astonished, with a face devoid of guile. And he pointed to the contract with a reassuring smile. It was the first occasion that he disagreed with me, But he held me to that paper with a firmness sad to see; And for that thunder story ere the rascal i finally went, I paid two hundred dollars, if I paid a single cent. And if any lightning rodder wants a dinner dialogue. With the restaurant department of an enterprising dog, Let him set his mill a-runnin' Just Inside my outside gate, And I'll bet two hundred dollars that he won't have long to wait.
Overwhelmed  Jan 2011
for-get-it
Overwhelmed Jan 2011
stupid

stupid
stupid
stupid

you idiotic
little piece
of-

arg

why?

why
did you
let this
happen?

again.

love

you know
better than
to let it
happen

you know
what can happen.
what does
happen.

you know this
you know this
you know this

but you let it
happen again,
didn’t you?

when will you learn?
when will it hurt enough
to make you stop for good?
when will you realize
that you can’t win,
that things don’t
change,
that your dreams
will not be
reality?

when?
you idiot!

so sit there,
smiling like a
fool
trying to act
like you’re not
dying inside

we both know
how much it hurts

so stop!
stop sitting there
looking so happy!
so content!

she’s gone!
gone for good!

and! hey, what’s
with that gun?
why, why are
you pointing it
at me!?
Argha Wadadar  Apr 2020
STRONGER
Argha Wadadar Apr 2020
Consent was trivial to you,
you thought, my flesh was ready for you.
you thought, me being friendly,
an invitation for you to violate me.

I was afraid, of the consequences,
you were groping your next prey.
I was afraid , of myself,
empty void nesting inside me.

I contemplate, did I do something wrong?
or was it you all alone,
the answer is obvious, yet
I scrutinise myself to sleep every night.

The wounds may heal,
but the trust is lost,
the shadows will scare me,
for the rest of my life.

I have decided to,
deem you insignificant,
at long last the woman in me rebelled,
overcoming the fear and shame.

I will speak out,
not in a whisper, but aloud,
vehemently, to end this injustice,
to end this torment within.

wad_arg
More Power to the survivors, fighting out there.
Thankyou for reading.
Kelly McManus  Mar 2021
ARG!!!
Kelly McManus Mar 2021
Your patriotic
duty to fight anyone
who'll take their *****

           Kelly McManus
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2017
language as a museum, some nudes,
nudes are welcome, but also the
dyslexic takes on "profanity" -
namely:
like f%$£ you can -
you f------
albino take on a n-----!
ooh...
         takes two to take
a lesson in art...
nackte ist güt...
  korrekt s(c)hreiben, arg! das ist arg!
**** güt, oo -
roll on, roll off...
           hovering over A
                                         eine gnat -
and how often is the
umlaut missing,
when it's required to
make syllable cuts, curbs,
and counting?
      i'm starting to imagine
the lost art of counting as the essence
of arithmetic -
            e.g. das ist goo, nein gút -
oot, utterly - ah -
         goo, ja?
                       jawohl?
   reiteration in expansion...
das ist nein gút: g~at -
but the roll-over count of
   braille 2x, ja?
                  where j = y...
               Hanover blues -
güt...
       goo't -
                 T tap crisp -
                          scheißefraude -
when did language resemble
a coordination?
        whenever the never
of the "artist" ever perfecting
the realm of numbers?!
          so, who's this fresh
******* reading of the
dictatorial press of what's:
"art"?
         next time he comes along
these ways knocking...
   tell him to invent,
                    a ******* doorbell.
me? deaf as a doorknob.
Matthew Scott Harris...ARG

This, a near imp
     possible mantra to apply
when this 2009
     Macbook Pro went awry
triggering this enduser
     to experience tidal waves of high
anxiety, which besieged this fie
foo fighting dirt po' pa well nigh,

who might need buy
another laptop, yet my
anorexic checking account
     on life support, no lie
could not afford, (to sigh
phone even one red cent,
     all because ordinary healthy
     electrons deployed aye

did NOT see usual expected
     predictable apple luck
     quiche *** activity via my
left and right eye,
yours truly did not espy
usual kickstarting linkedin magic after
     preliminary electronic setup
     unexpectedly failed to start -

     no idea why
unbeknownst tummy, what
     ghost in the machine didst defy
programming code of honor,
     whereby pixel display
     unexpectedly exhibited "abnormal"
computer behavior -
     like a turncoat ally

meaning one hoop wrest
     illegally start button signaling
     subatomic warfare unleashing - guy
did missiles as taught
     during routine training
     to turn bot tin down stevedores
     loose on the Jobs (dan-g) rather, I
watched slack jawed,

     as that very singularly narrow
     vertical lined band width
(analogous to a medium black
     sabbath tipped magic marker)
     did NOT display
     prestidigitation instantaneous flash
     demarcating binary DMZ
     (demon mailer zone,

     viz dividing screen in half, -
     versus top to bottom array), qua
     incomplete automatic
     initialization stopped
     partway thru automatic preparation,
     after which cryptic
     error message appeared,
     which malfunction found me

     bursting with ****** tears,
     and ready to cry,
(which gush of tear
     rivalled Hurricane Florence),
     cuz mechanical and/or
     application so much

     of my creative
     write minded person
     (reed literary) self choked life vie
ability to live, thus the only alternative
...insane asylum to apply!
--------------------------------
SPOILER ALERT...
postscript: after some fluke brought
desk top in view, the quick thinking
chap attached an external drive to a
USB port, and thus breathed easier
knowing a backup got made.

— The End —