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Adam Morris Nov 2018
We live in a world that's so cold
Where its more important to savour the flavour
Than stop life ending up on a fork and knife.

We do good deeds and preach our teachings to the younger future walkers of the earth.
We teach them what's right and what's wrong and get them to listen to our favourite song.

But life isn't important, no cpr classes in school no teachings of being an ***** donar.
We carry on teaching useless, pointless information.
We waste time and effort teaching religion when we don't even know who they will grow up to be.

We tell children to be nice to animals around the dinner table. Carving up what used to live and love now covered  in Gravy beyond recognition of how it once was part of its own family.

Every year our biggest celebration Christmas where we celebrate the birth of jesus or just friendly old santa bringing us gifts. Picking out the biggest turkey to be stuffed glazed and cooked. Poor animal killed to celebrate life or joy.

It ****'s being on the food chain. You're either above or below an other fellow earthling. Why not break the chain and be you. Not above me, not above a fish that swims faster than you. Not above a lion stronger than you. Not about the farm animals sitting at the bottom waiting to be bled and made into shrink wrapped food.

You take the nutrition from the animal that's spent its whole life collecting from plants. Why is the cow the middle man in this earth crime.

We have consciousness now we know what's right and wrong so why **** for the thrill of flavor. So sad we don't break this habit and mean it when we say to our children. Don't be mean to animals..
Nomkhumbulwa Feb 2019
One minute fine,
The next minute not,
It may be freezing cold,
But my brain is boiling hot.

The tingling sensation,
And then the trembling starts,
I cannot feel my legs,
Yet how I feel my heart!

The environment is spinning,
The air is getting thin,
No matter how fast I breathe,
I cant get enough oxygen in.

Things enter my mind,
I try to force them out,
But the harder I try,
The more they come back and shout.

I feel im going to faint,
Im feeling so sick,
I cannot run away,
All my legs let me do is sit.

My legs get weak and heavy,
My brain doesnt know whats going on,
Everything becomes something to fear,
The floor, my clothes, hair... and so on.

My mouth is dry like paper,
My body is sweating yet cold,
Where did all of this come from?
Is this what its like to get old?

My body feels frozen,
But my brain is running around,
Playing tricks on me,
Where there is no danger to be found.

Breathing exercises dont work
Though they make sense normally,
In the moment of panic -
You lose all sense of reality.

The images enter your mind,
You try to force them out,
But the harder you try,
The more they refuse to get out.

Everything becomes a danger,
I will say one more time,
Every object becomes a weapon,
And slices through your mind.

The nausea causes more panic,
The panic responds with more nausea,
What a horrific cycle,
How to stop it I have no idea.

****** functions fail,
The digestive system especially,
But now your afraid of the toilet (!)
Though you need it in a hurry.

The trembling is so intense,
The fear so intense,
You struggle to make a call,
Your mind and body losing control.

Diazepam becomes your best friend,
You'd worship it if you could,
Its often there to save the day,
..Although at other times you just wish it would...

The adrenal glands are to blame,
Im not the Adrenalin rush kind,
My adrenal glands are evil,
How can they be so cruel and unkind?!

I dont like my adrenal glands,
Im an ***** donar - but if I die please be warned,
DO NOT TAKE THE ADRENAL GLANDS,
...then again, with the right brain, they could be your friends?

Its the "brain- adrenal gland" combination,
Which is of the ******* kind,
Perhaps if brain sent out the right signals,
My adrenal glands might understand.

There is a time and place for adrenalin,
I have sampled many myself,
But this is just not one of them...
Yet - subconcious brain fears itself...

That is it.....the brain "fears itself"...
Well, I tried to put words to the panic...
Not sure if i did it justice.  I could have written more.  So much more.  Anyway...didnt really know / plan on writing it at all! :/
Briscoe  Sep 2019
Only Human
Briscoe Sep 2019
The fortune teller yelled,
She told me
"There are two breeds of oathbreakers
The liar and the failure."

It is this feeble form,
With deep roots of saphire
Juxtaposed with soft silk
Spines, undermined by magma.
The milk of these bones are
From an unhealthy donar.

Great singers sing
Through happiness and sorrow.
The writers are writing
Whether with joy or woe.
The warrior fights on
For failure or valour.
The great fear not defeat
But the fleeting self
Who flees.
"12 Before a downfall the heart is haughty, but humility comes before honor."
-Proverbs 18:12
Sacude las épicas eras
un loco viento festival.
                          Ah yeguayeguaa!...
Como un botón en primavera
se abre un relincho de cristal.

Revienta la espiga gallarda
bajo las patas vigorosas.
                          Ah yeguayeguaa!...
¡Por aumentar la zalagarda
trillarían las mariposas!

Maduros trigos amarillos,
campos expertos en donar.
                          Ah yeguayeguaa!...
Hombres de corazón sencillo.
¿Qué más podemos esperar?

Éste es el fruto de tu ciencia,
varón de la mano callosa.
                          Ah yeguayeguaa!...
¡Sólo por falta de paciencia
las copihueras no dan rosas!

Sol que cayó a racimos sobre el llano,
ámbar del sol, quiero adorarte en todo:
en el oro del trigo y de las manos
que lo hicieran gavillas y recodos.

Ámbar del sol, quiero divinizarte
en la flor, en el grano y en el vino.

Amor sólo me alcanza para amarte:
¡para divinizarte, hazme divino!

Que la tierra florezca en mis acciones
como en el jugo de oro de las viñas,
que perfume el dolor de mis canciones
como un fruto olvidado en la campiña.

Que trascienda mi carne a sembradura
ávida de brotar por todas partes,
que mis arterias lleven agua pura,
¡agua que canta cuando se reparte!

Yo quiero estar desnudo en las gavillas,
pisado por los cascos enemigos,
yo quiero abrirme y entregar semillas
de pan, ¡yo quiero ser de tierra y trigo!

Yo di licores rojos y dolientes
cuando trilló el Amor mis avenidas:
ahora daré licores de vertiente
y aromaré los valles con mi herida.

Campo, dame tus aguas y tus rocas,
entiérrame en tus surcos, o recoge
mi vida en las canciones de tu boca
como un grano de trigo de tus trojes...

Dulcifica mis labios con tus mieles,
¡campo de recónditos panales!

Perfúmame a manzanas y laureles,
desgráname en los últimos trigales...

Lléname el corazón de cascabeles,
¡campo de los lebreles pastorales!

Rechinan por las carreteras
los carros de vientres fecundos.
                          Ah yeguayeguaa!...
¡La llamarada de las eras
es la cabellera del mundo!

Va un grito de bronce removiendo
las bestias que trillan sin tregua
en un remolino tremendo...
                          Ah yeguayeguaa!...

— The End —