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 Dec 4 st64
bucketb0t
COCO
 Dec 4 st64
bucketb0t
The irresistible force paradox.
When an unstoppable force
meets an immovable object,
they co-co-opt a new loving universe.

extraordinary claims
extraordinary evidence
elusive question
evident answer

COCO
The answer to the never-ending question with COCO as a symbol for absolute pure love, at least for me and my wife affecting the surroundings.
 Dec 4 st64
Peter Garrett
Today I've just laid
In my bed the entire day
Feeling absolutely numb
And that's what scares
Me the most...

I don't wanna go down
That road again
Every word feels off... everything feels off. But I kinda needed to write it anyway.
I found you on the wrong side
of chiaroscuro.
I asked for sleepless raindrops,
so unlike your tears.

I tried to dream the future,
so that the door would remain
open and the window would be barred.

I know that you are
still looking for a way back - dawn
will not compensate you.
Twilight will not give you
forbidden fruits, although your skin
will be rough.

I want to breathe unknown air,
feel a touch so generous
that I will forget the directions
of the world, the amount of tears
I have shed.

You immerse yourself in me,
although I miss my own world so much.
I recognize in you
the tenderness for which I still
talk to the stars,
I am ashamed of the Moon.
Unknown cities. Summarized sentences,
none of which exist
as a question. I am here
to awaken the night in you - too far away
to think about reality.

The present? Who thinks about it?
Is this another illusion?
Or maybe the exchange of answers
was too vigorous?

Pray on your conscience - the cloud,
entangled in your dreams, is a prelude
to the apocalypse. I would like to revive
memory, but I know:
a cry chases silence.

I came into existence to draw
the penultimate dawn in you.
I was born amidst desires, none of which
match your gaze.

I delight in the solemn present;
I watch from all sides of the world
this one needle through whose eye
my complaint about
the local wind escapes.

I wanted to get lost in life, but the reserves
of solitude were exhausted,
desire got lost.
 Dec 4 st64
badwords
(after Ginsberg)

I saw the best minds of my generation
rotting in pews of plastic devotion,
minds crucified on the spires of indifference,
nursing at the dry breast of the negligent mother,
who whispered false comfort into their despair.

Who abandoned them to the marketplace of ideas,
where belief is bartered for validation
and faith is a commodity sold in plastic bottles—
"Drink, children, drink! And forget your hunger!"
while the true bread is locked away in vaults.

Who dangled freedom on a chain of commandments,
who promised salvation with one hand
and shackled with the other,
who built temples of glass and steel
but left their children naked in the streets.

Who said, Love thy neighbor,
then turned their backs on the screaming masses,
whose prayers bounced off the ceilings
of mansions paid for with their guilt.

O negligent mother, how many times have you
fed us poison wrapped in scripture?
How many lives have been consumed
by your hollow embrace,
your lipsticked smile of "community"?

I see you! Preening in your stained-glass mirrors,
baptizing us in the blood of indifference,
teaching us to fear the void
while you sell tickets to its edge.
Your children are dying in the pews,
hands outstretched for meaning,
and you say, Only if you pay.

But I will not bow to your porcelain idol,
I will not drink from your cup of conformity.
Let the wolves come, let the fire rise!
Burn the temples! Smash the altars!
Let the ash of false faith scatter on the winds
and fertilize the soil for something real.

Call forth the prophets of the street corners,
the howlers, the wild-eyed dreamers,
the orphans who never knew love,
but will plant it in the ruins of your empires.
We will scream until your pillars crumble,
until the children are fed,
until the world is reborn.
Synopsis:
"Howl for the Neglected Child" is a blistering critique of modern faith’s failure to fulfill its promise as a source of nurturing guidance. Written in the style of Allen Ginsberg’s Howl, the poem captures the disillusionment and rage of a generation betrayed by institutions that masquerade as caretakers while perpetuating neglect and oppression. Through vivid imagery and rhythmic invocations, the poem paints modern faith as a negligent mother—offering hollow comfort, perpetuating transactional love, and exploiting the vulnerable for power and profit. It culminates in a rallying cry for rebellion, urging the destruction of these false systems and the birth of something authentic, born from the ashes of disillusionment.

Artist’s Intent:
This poem is intended as both a critique and a call to action. It reflects the growing alienation individuals feel toward faith systems that prioritize institutional survival over human connection, reducing sacred truth to hollow platitudes and commodified spirituality. The "negligent mother" serves as a metaphor for faith’s failure to nurture the spirit, echoing societal patterns of abandonment and conditional love.

Stylistically, the poem borrows Ginsberg’s unapologetic, freeform style to evoke a visceral response, combining raw emotion with incisive commentary. The artist seeks to provoke readers into questioning their own complicity within these systems, inspiring them to reject complacency and pursue genuine spiritual and communal nourishment.

Through this piece, the artist aims to ignite a revolt not only against modern faith but also against any institution that promises care while perpetuating harm. It is a demand for accountability, truth, and ultimately, liberation.
 Dec 4 st64
Bell'Alta
It's late and you're in my mind
why can't you leave me alone
I have stepped in about everything, one time or another,
Bubble gum, Cow and pig waste, dead critters remains
in the woods, the putrid upchuck of someone's late night
over celebrating. Mostly you name it I have trod in it.
Today on a shoping spree, in the outdoor alcove entrance
of an upscale store in the city center, it was a pile, or two
of ill smelling human excrement, an experience that is
guaranteed to take the wind right out of your sails.

The warning should have been a line of small camping
tents out on the sidewalk belonging to the "dispossessed"
"Un Housed" as they are being referred to lately. The sad
shadowy street people, the dropouts and drug addicted
given up on life, as most of us know it. Living in filthy
unsanitary conditions we pretend not to see, dwelling in
a miserable existence we would not allow our loved dogs
or cats to endure. The lost, throw away human beings all
around us unwashed, ignored and overlooked.

Where has our collective humanity gone, where are we as a
nation headed? Is the world we thought we knew falling apart?
This is a basic humanitarian issue that all of us should step into.
The vast distances between the Haves and Have Nots have expanded.
When is enough truly enough? When will human empathy return to
the norm and we become our brothers' keepers. Yes, people that are
addicted to drugs make a choice and many even if offered help remain
addicted, good intentions of free tents and food can even enable them
to stay on the streets and in that dead end lifestyle. I have no answers,
I am just a guy with **** on my shoes who thinks there should be some
solutions to this issue. Not many years ago if someone was on the streets, jobless, and homeless they would be arrested for vagrancy and thrown in
jail. I was raised to understand if we don't work, we don't eat, that there
is no such thing as a "Free Lunch." . . . . I have no solutions, but remain
concerned with the direction we are headed.
We Musk be from Mars
Creatures non native
to Earth who planet hop
hell bent on destruction and interplanetary war
The reason aliens look like
us is because they are us .
And guess what planet is next on the bucket list .
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