Face                     of MADNESS        , gather your twisted strength
Stench like sadness? (Do)n't                             confuse, its greatness
Sway through the fractures and disjointedness
      Disembodied                      manifestati­on, useless phenomenon
S(cul)p(ture)s hammered into DisFuRme/nt
Castrate salient pieces                     of that body
      Spew inhuman lexicon insinuating         i-n/co\here/nce
Slaughter the (harm)ony                   within cadence
Screech!         H     o      w      l!          Growl!
Rel(easing) murderous miseries within infected entr[ails]
      R A G E, count{less} bullets                              turning fl{ashes} of sanity to CAD(AVE)R(S)
De[generate] ripping throat of conscio(us)ness

She wants a spark that isn’t there,
that never was, but always burned.
Routine remains in comfort where
love should reside. Two hearts once frost
are made warm when one, and only
joined together when separate.
This truth is implanted to a
girl who is as broken as the lives
she’s left behind. Intentions are
fueled by the hope of a road cleared
ahead of the fallible thick-
et their feet fall on now. Toes are
scarred from entangled roots scattered
the width of the path. To stray is
to stay on course, she says to him.
The fill of a thrill from a chase
already deemed triumphant ball-
oons his wings. He soars in the sky
to rival the eagle. Though ev-
en she cannot ignore the threat
of temptation. Indirect in-
iquities thrive in the life of
the one who began this feat by
fault of suppressed ignorance now
made alive. Infidelity
envelopes their lackluster rel-
ation. They wonder if there ev-
er was anything there at all. A
friendly companionship confused
as love? What is love but a con-
nection between friends. His protests
fall on deaf ears. She has felt the
flames, and they are warm. Their paths are
clear, but not as predicted. In-
to the sunset they walk, between
them another heart, more cold than
the one they shared.

have you ever felt like you're trapped
in a prison you self-erected & cast
yourself into? like life's something you're terrible at
existentially wack so dreadfully that
there's a reasonable question to ask
where are your testicles, chap?
'cause, like a man that commits a va[ɛ]nishing act
once he detects that his lass is expecting a brat
the way you live is cowardly; a hell of a lack
["way you leave"]
of ***** akin to sO̲mebody bereft of his nads
comfort zone ain't
much different from a coffin you are a hostage to
A̲lthough no way a freaking throat spray
will treat you okay
["coughing"]
if you want to live akin to those a[eɪ]—
—zure-hued pills treating fever or pain
["want Aleve"; "want to leave [the coffin]"]
you've gotta Beatrix Kiddo your way
outta it; in fact, I'm 'bout to evince one more way
[the "outta the grave" scene from "**** Bill: Vol. 2"]
by which you portray the thing aforenamed
that ***** reminds of a tempting she-devil; you have
["attempting"]
if you wanna feel good
to ream it, like a guy, keeping it broad, stretched like a ****
or else it's gonna be you
the one winding up f#cked, much like a chief authoritarian das—/a##—
—****/—hole when his dishono[—]rable rule
winds up effing collapsed; like a pestilent brat
you get it, but your co[ɑ]nstant pla[ɛ]n of attack
is digital escapism helping to kick aside depression, a tad
though; 'cause no matter how much you la[ɛ]m, you get back
into the real—nE̲ss that you have
which is quite a mess like a lass'
coif when she's outside, & the weather is trash
raining, just like Hussein in his presiding days (trash, reigning)
I might lO̲O̲k to be an evil-minded skate
now, but, seizing the opportunity
like some viced ***** gained
a role O̲f a rU̲ler with
an unchecked political might & aimed
at establishing a tight-grip reign inside the state
[opportunism]
I hhhooock... thooo... spit on tyrants' graves
and graves of their compliant aides (ha-ha)
without the slightest shame, I, like a crane for construction, raze
["raise"]
their heads—tones by a mace from the knightly age
bet taphophiles ain't gonna like the way
in which I behave; ones who're enviro-cray
better get fire squa[ɑ]ds awake like a rite that takes
place after someone's life has waned (a wake)
'cause I get mY̲ hands laid
on a pulverizer with spirits of wine & spray
it on those scheissers' grave—yards, then make
[German "scheißer"]
them go, like the face of someone laughing so wildly they
are about to split their sides, ablaze
the rhyme-insane, yet quite cheap, brain
is, like the most upright stiffs reign—ing for a long time, depraved
thanks to the West-produced mass
culture (tha[ɛ]nk you a stack) & has a relish/penchant for gals
with looks of models composing the "dekok plus" class
["dekok" (Esperanto) - "eighteen"]
the problem's most of those lean to[—]ward sE̲lf-confy lads
and are mostly/mainly 'bout lettuce, in fact
which makes me remember the Jack
the Ripper case (letters)
[more than 200 letters signed as "Jack the Ripper" were written]
so, as for a GF̲ for a chap
like that, having one seems like an excellent pad
[house]
for a beggar to have; impossible like a saint autocrat
(like a saint autocrat; absolute absurdity)
forget it, let's yap
I mean, let me get to something else I would yap
about; not an oriental-grown chap
but into rhyming 'cause I'm a perfectionist that
["ramen"]
takes this thing as something he's no[ɑ]t ineffectual at
if not for the aesthetical cast
["cast" in the sense of "outward form", etc.]
which is rhymes, I'd not even bother tryna express all this crap
[especially, the personal one]
'cause what's the point when nigh-on none on the web who reacts
to whatev' you say or demonstrate?
remember I had the more pleasura[—]ble past
virtual realities, not having to go to a jO̲[ɑ]b that stinks
nO̲ stupid po[ɑ]litics (these were the times)
which is ****̲te you can't take null notice of 'cA̲U̲[ɑ]se you twig
it's the post-enlightenment time gO̲ing on, A̲[ɑ]lthough it's
a giant & atrocious auto[ɑ]cracy
you abide in, as if you were related to the dude presiding
as the head of the big state kept, like a group of do[ɑ]gs in—
—volved in a mush, united; in terms of music, I̲ went
["you are Biden"]
from somewhat generic electro[ɑ]nic
sh#t, both, ba[ɛ]ngers & melo[ɑ]dic
ones to heavier & dA̲rk sh#t; however, I, regardless
still dig some graves like a fellow with boneY̲A̲rd shifts
[Christian Mochizuki, better known as "graves"]
though wouldn't tE̲ll that I am go[ɑ]thic
given that, it's okay I̲f I
["if I" is supposed to be read/pronounced as "ifa"]
would get benamed with the
word "grave-digger"'; might as well take mE̲ a
****** ***** 'kI̲n/sI̲m. ta
a playing card; though I, as I've said, am no[ɑ]t
[a card with "spades" suit]
gothic, outdoor appa[ɛ]rel's all black (all black)
like a visitor on a cemetery plat
in the course of a burial act
void inside, an atramental-hued gap (mental)
which makes me something like
a walking black hole, as well as the fact
that I'm surrounded by
space like it; kind of Arthur Fleck that's yet to turn mad
which sounds a mite
hair-curling like waving, so, before you find
yourself a bit horrified, let me get that clarified
to be more precise, a marbles-wise
lighter case, 'kin to a lighter casing
with the web to distract myself from the lack—
—luster realness, yet, with all thA̲t
flammable crap, ptui, I mean negative crap
I'm like a walking ba[ɛ]rrel with gas
it's better not to set a lit match
my way, it's appa[ɛ]rent, like a stem a pear has, a psychotherapy cab's
["a pear end"'; "cabin"/"cabinet" in the sense of "private room"]
where I should be spending the time of mine
instead of sitting in the bedroom inditing rhymes
as if you hit upon rhymes so tight
that their existence is considered a kind of crime (indicting rhymes)
but I'm the type with a b#tch of a mind: if I
have not a really distressing existence, then I am fine
like that dog sitting inside, despite
the room inside which it sits
is, like someone after an imbibing spree, lit (this is fine)
in other words, as it's been divulged not long ago
I stay pU̲t in comfort zone
like an autocratic **** roosting on the throne (scuuurred)
["****" in the sense of "****", "*****", etc.; "skirt"]
————————————————————————————————
implausible as it may sound, a bullish thought's approached
[implausible" is supposed to be read/pronounced as "implausibowl"]
my mind: I may be someone looking lost, although
I, unlike someone unable to move or gone, still go (that's the spirit!)
dull right to (like an average new-school rapper) **** nowhere
["dull writer"]

Writing the formality
scribble the nonsensity
searching for solitary
hoping of fleeting
from the bind
that knots up
the chamber of the heart

Screaming into the void
as the bind tighten the throats
only way out-
is waiting to be heard
More than so,
it is only broken
once the soul inside awaken

I was doing a crossword puzzle
Yesterday, to pass the time,
The clues were all about animals
Both across, and down the line,
The wife was out in the kitchen
And I’d call the harder clues,
While she’d reply with a patient sigh
As she cooked two different stews.

It wasn’t as easy as I’d thought
Some clues were quite obscure,
Though each would bring up some animal
That we should have known, for sure,
But as I scribbled across the squares
I found some didn’t fit,
I’d call, ‘Lynette, have you worked it yet?’
But she’d never heard of it.

She’d said, ‘Two heads are better than one,’
And I thought she might be right,
The names that came out too long, I thought
Must be an oversight,
But when they clashed with the downward clues
And I crumpled up my hat,
That furry purr by the fireside there
Was just a common Dat.

And things that flew in the night became
Some thing they called a Rel,
They must be horrible creatures, like
Some creature based in Hell,
But as it crossed the Ordothlicon
I knew it must be right,
For on the left was a Rerr that leapt
On a dark and stormy night.

She said that really my spelling might
Be not quite up to scratch,
The ones that I knew as Pidgins flew
The coop in quite a batch,
And honey gathering Lees in trees
Were paired with wild Gorrils,
While Madgers seemed to be burrowing
All though the distant hills.

‘I’ve never heard of these animals,’
I said, in quite a stew,
Lynette called out from the kitchen that
She didn’t know them, too,
I walked around and I locked the doors
And I set each window latch,
In case that some of them wandered in
Like Carroll’s Bandersnatch.

I’m loth to wander the streets at night
If Rogs are on the prowl,
And keep away from the Cagpies nests
And the things that say ‘Miaowl’,
It seems that Berons are on the beach
And Peagulls in the air,
Lynette said better we stay inside
Than to get Peegull in our hair.

David Lewis Paget

If one race becomes ready to bear the rel brunt
Then at least seven races are saved from disaster
All those who do care in this regard come on front
The glory of the time only they dare to capture

Our forefathers taught us to survive head high
They were real soldiers whose footsteps we follow
Trained us to honorably live and gracefully die
All enemies to be cut to pieces to leave them hollow

I am a follower of footsteps of my valiant leaders
Till the other end of the world with zeal and zest
In the process I am ready to kiss very many altars
But still I maintain I am nothing they were the best

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2017 Golden Glow

MY MEDICATION WORKS, BUT WHAT DO YOU DO ABOUT SIDE EFFECTS




WELL, IF YA SIDE EFFECT IS MOVING HANDS, DO SOMETHING CREATIVE LIKE I DO

TO TAKE THE ADNOMALITIES OUT OF YOUR HANDS

IF YA SIDE EFFECTS ARE MAKING YA HUNGRY

GET HYPED UP AND WRITE STORY BY STORY ABOUT YOUR LIFE

INSTEAD OF DWELL IN EACH ASPECT OF YOUR PAST

IF YA SIDE EFFECTS MAKE YOU ANGRY AT YOUR VOICES

TRY AND WORK THROUGH IT, LIKE YOU ARE ALWAYS GOING TO ******* SOME POOR SOUL

WHETHER YOU MEAN IT OR NOT

IF YOUR SIDE EFFECTS MEAN YOU ARE JUMPY

JUST WRITE STORIES AND DO ART, TO REL;AX YOURSELF

IF YA SIDE EFFECTS HAS VOICES SAYING YOUR JUST AS MESSED UP AS THE NEXT PERSON

JUST, TRY AND DROWN YOUR VOICES IN A GOOD BOOK, A DVD BLURAY

GAMES CONSOL, TAPESTRY YOUTUBE SPORT ON TELEVISION OR ANY OTHER TV SHOW

AND IF YA MEDICATION HAS VOICES SAYING, DON’T TAKE YOUR MEDICATION THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YA

LOOK AT THE BIG PICTURE, TRY TO WRITE PROBLEMS AND DELLUSIONS OUT OF YA

IF YOU ARE HEARING PEOPLE RIOT OUTSIDE, THE BEST THING IS THINK THEY ARE PARTYING

DOESN’T ALWAYS WORK, BUT REALLY THINKING POSITIVELY ABOUT PEOPLE OUTSIDE IS MUCH BETTER

THAT THINKING THEY ARE RIOTING OUTSIDE, MY MATE THINKS THEY ARE RIOTING,

HE SAYS HE IS TRUTHFUL, BUT HE’S NEGATIVE, BUT THINK PEOPLE ARE PARTYING

IF YOU HAVE SIDE EFFECTS OF THE DEAD TEASING YOU, WRITE THE POSITIVE STORY

OUT OF YOU, TO SAY, THAT SLIM DUSTY IS ALIVE AND WELL, AND LIVING IN MY HEAD

I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH SLIM HERE

YEAH I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH SLIM

BUT WITH MY MEDICATION AND MY PAST

IT COULD BRING DELLUSIONAL VOICES AGAIN

AND SEND ME TO THE PSYCH WARD, WHERE THE CRAZY PEOPLE ARE

BUT THEY ARE ONLY CRAZY CAUSE THE SYSTEM DOESN’T LIKE THEM

FROM A ****** FAR

SO I CHUCK A METHANE SMOOTHIE ON DAD YEAH

AND SAY HAVE A GREAT NEXT LIFE

SLIM DUSTY IS ALIVE AND WELL AND LIVING IN MY HEAD

CAUSE I SING ABOUT PARTYING, AND I PARTY IN FRONT OF THE COMPUTER

LIKE A COOL DUDE DOES