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The X Rhymes Jan 11
when the facts are unclear
there's a book you can buy
a podcast to hear
YouTube to spy
on the Machiavellian
pulling of strings
and the general Orwellian
nature of things
confusion? perhaps...
an honest mistake
if the rational naps
the conspiracies wake
to dark hearts of government
a crashed UFO
the ark of the covenant
Charlie Hebdo
insiders recounting
false flags and traps
slipshod accounting
the banking collapse
paranoia and doubt
something misunderstood?
a common sense drought
or conspiracy flood?

the diciest vices
the smokiest rooms
the ******* crisis
celebrity grooms
it's nineteen-eighty-four
caught on CCTV
an all out info war
over free energy
where did it begin
what made healthy folk sick
why's reality thin
and conspiracy thick?
well the queen is a reptile
a shape-shifting snake
resistance is futile
the moon landings: FAKE!
the men of the church
join the alien greys
holding hands as they lurch
to the ending of days
because nigh is the time
as the bible foretold
with the facts written fine
and conspiracy bold

while the hadron collider
goes faster than light
so says that insider
with God in their sights
and Israel and Palestine
fake dead sea scrolls
the CIA, clandestine
grassy green knolls
and they fired the shot
not Oswald, Harvey, Lee
so the truth costs a lot
but conspiracy's free
and now comes the sound
from the chip in your head
says the world's flat not round
and that Elvis ain't dead
and you're losing the plot
think they're tapping your phone
that's why Lennon got shot
Paul McCartney’s a clone
and the knowledge all blocked
by illuminati
secrets can't be unlocked

or the sound of dissent
like an old protest song
where there’s no real intent
to set right any wrongs
of all those nine-elevens
and those Sandy Hooks
and all those seven-sevens
just a shiny new book
where you'll struggle find
any real smoking gun
thinking straight is a bind
but conspiracy's fun.
Hisham Alshaikh Jul 2018
You laugh
Angels weep out of jealousy
Devils have no single conspiracy
Demons dancing in harmony
Men hearts go broken with no remedy
Women eyes tearing continuously
Violins break out of envy terribly
Composers have no more creativity
Music plays with no melody
Silence starts listening joyfully
Happiness laughters left in agony
Beautiful words describe nothing but misery
Tulip flowers become colorless shamefully
Believers lose their faith immediately
Infidels drop their convictions instantly
Hearts start beating rapidly
Lungs oxygenating quickly
Living ones laying listening carefully
The dead come back miraculously

--Hisham Alshaikh
You Laugh. Version 1.
eliza bonnet Mar 2014
whisper softly so i can't hear
walk away quickly when i begin to walk near
rip me off like a bandaid, i just can't bare
what you are doing to me anymore

please tell me
about this conspiracy
against me

way to be discreet
you had me believe
this relationship was concrete

i love the feeling when you walk away
just as my mouth opens and i begin to say
exactly how much you mean to me

and how when I'm all alone
you never stopped to think maybe she knows
but you kept pretending we were close

please tell me
about this conspiracy
against me
Travis Garcelon Nov 2010
“I’m not the conspiracy theorist, you’re the conspiracy theorist. You're the one who believes that 19 islamic terrorists with box-cutters conspired with a bearded man in a cave then bypassed a multi-billion dollar security system to knock down 3 buildings with 2 airplanes. You’re the one who believes that buildings can come down in perfect free-fall and pancake form at free fall speed. I'm not the nutty conspiracy theorist, you are!”
brandon nagley Dec 2015
Some may sayest
I'm what they
Calleth, a conspiracy

Verily I sayest
I'm what I calleth
A conspiracy

©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prophetic poetry
how abstract are the problems of whiteness?
socialist meeting
whiteness is socialism gone wrong
in itself
look it up
its secret agreements that are no secret anymore
the contracts of whiteness
in America
whiteness is a conspiracy on humanity
whiteness is a conspiracy theory
to be white is to conspire
to deny that it itself is capitalism
socially constructing a world that cannot
reflect the fact that it is conspiring
against others
in every associated breath
conspiring and justifying by thinking others
are conspiring against it
it was the first agitator
the first conspiracy in America was whiteness
slavery would not be possible
if whiteness did not conspire
to ****
to teach killing
to educate conspiracy
to teach
how to call **** something else
a system to justify its theory
a system to justify it is a theory
but thats all it ever was
a bad theory
and while whiteness has been conspiring
the others have been human beings
trying to teach whiteness the way out
that is what understanding black history is
the black experience
is the way for whiteness to regain its humanity
to stop this dangerous conspiracy theory
that studies every other field of study
and society keeps begging
exposing where focus needs to be
stop conspiring whiteness
and stop calling it capitalism;=elan%20gregory&qid;=1459178234&ref;_=sr_1_1&sr;=8-1
The Noose  Oct 2013
The Noose Oct 2013
I remember how the  sensations inside my head would get too much
It felt like acid was eating the inside of my brain
How I felt like I had reached the end of my road
You felt so helpless seeing me in that state
A medical mystery
This disease was having it's way with me
Science had failed me
All we could do was  kneel and pray

I remember the nights when all I could do was cry
You would check if I was still breathing as I slept
How you would literally hold my arm throughout the night
Not wanting to let me go
Facing the other side, I could sense your fear of losing me
Your daughter
I was slipping away

Mum, do you remember the drives we took to take my mind off it all?
Lazy afternoons, the sun burning and us feeling completely deleted by it
Playing the song "Conspiracy" on a loop
The line “explain to me this conspiracy against me” spoke volumes to me
What had I done to deserve such an illness
You hated that song but it grew on you and it became our song
well... at least I'd like to make myself believe

Closure I never got
There was never a diagnosis, it went away on it's own
The cruelty of it
Now I live in the confines of fear
what if it comes back again?
I fear I would not have the strength to fight it

I can still smell the inside of the hospital, which had become my second home
I can still taste the  medication on my tongue
The pills I got fed, do you remember?
How they sent me off the rails
How I grew dependent

It has been 2 years since I "healed"
Convinced I left a piece of myself back there
I'll never get that part of me back.
I am not even supposed to be here
Saved by grace.
They have no idea how to talk to me
most just keep me at a far distance
best for me better for them
in dark love, this conspiracy of silence

I am a rule breaker
a soul taker
a lord of darkness
a child of silence

I did dwell in the darkness
oh yes before your star was born
I am the dead yet living
in a conspiracy of silence

I wish you could see all of me
but time is running out
and the life I have lead
is truly a conspiracy of silence

No more puppy dog tails
no more slugs and pellets
you don't want me here
and boy do I get it

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
labyrinths Feb 2015
is the illuminati real?
was 9/11 an inside job?
are we in love?

i keep saying "i don't know" like it's the only thing i do know - maybe i don't have the right answer but i've thought about it just as much as you think about glittery pink nails and tiny red bikinis on the beach in the middle of the day

do aliens live among us?
does reincarnation exist?
are we in love?

and maybe i don't know but i do know more than i don't know like the way you sent me that picture and said i was cute or the way the sky blinks at night a little too suspiciously to be a star. i know the names of all the planets and i know how to kiss like i'm in love

is there a God?
is the fluoride in our water harmful?
are we in love?

but I don't even know what the other side of the country looks like, let alone the other side of the world and i know a little but you know so much more and i don't know why someone so small needs someone so strong but i also don't know what it looks like to die.

is our fate decided for us?
what are they hiding in area 51?
are we in love?

when you look at me i feel like i could tell stories until my teeth cut through my lips and my tongue is bleeding from talking so much. it might not be love but it's blood pumping through my veins and working brain cells and beat beating against my rib cage, sweaty palms in the fear that you'll hold them, the fluctuation of a lifeline, you are my hospital waiting room where most of the people don't have to be there and go home. in a room full of hypochondriacs, i am the biggest one of all, diagnosing myself with a broken heart

was the moon landing staged?
how much does the government keep from us?
are we in love?
Lane Bohman  Nov 2015
Lane Bohman Nov 2015
Make sure when I see you,
  (Keep one eye on the door.)
To dust off the welcome mat,
 (and clean out those closets thorough)

(Never know who may be watching,)
  Appearances so clean.
(Call it luck, or chance, or fate,)
  I call it conspiracy.
city of flips Jul 2018
wants to be my friend, for I am poet-woman nineteen.

she is sweet but sad. super sad.

a good poet who wants to guide me.

but there/theirs is the odor, not faint, of wants wanting,
the pus of corruption behind the curtains,
the Wizard-ess of Oz's
special blackout curtains.

seen how easy, how her illusions,
my medium rare rejections,
morph into her delusions,

and her delusions devolve into
her conspiracy theories.

"SHE will be my mentor, poetess lover, teacher for no charge!"

my parents thinks it's great, she wants (to be) skin in my game.

my parents will find this poem accidentally, exactly,

how I do not want
to be skinned alive.

for I am poet-woman nineteen and still! now, long past
the point of being fooled, the point of no return.

and see no point,
have no intention,
of returning to either valley

no more con the my mind into letting my body

that ain't me babe.

— The End —