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GaryFairy Sep 2015
i feel like a spaceman
a displaced alien in a wasteland
base plan
looking for a face, trying to trace man

it's not rocket science
with the fights, riots, and sights of violence
i'd give my right eye for some silence
i'm finding this place never quiets
no kindness, or signs of subsidence
relying on small minded diets
no compliance, alliance, or guidance
few ever try to defy the tyrants

i feel like a spaceman
a displaced alien in a wasteland
base plan
looking for a trace, trying to face man
Gaye Sep 2015
Why is that looking into the-
Wide and open city so upsetting?
I saw the bird,
She was looking amongst the buildings,
A space that was hers
Or maybe the space-
Her ancestors have told her,
The folklores and many songs-
Written on the very space.
She crossed mountains,
Seas and barren lands
To see the city lights and
The many dreams she had.
She is not homesick,
She doesn’t even have a memory
Of her home-land
It is a long lost dream
Which cannot be recollected.
She’s homeless.
Was she looking for a mirage
In between the tall buildings -
‘They’ said where dreams prosper?
It’s a furnace,
The colours of fire she could see,
The shadow painted colours-
Orange, red and grey and
Still it required meaning?

I’m looking for it too!
I am scared of forgetting,
Old age and Alzheimers
I’m a dreamer, a homeless hippie
But there is a root, a deep root
A scent, a strong scent and
A soul that is sometimes homesick.
I’m a coward, a bold faced, masked dancer
But there is no rhythm, no audience
It’s just silence, dull grey stillness!
These buildings scare me, where is it?
Where is my chariot?
I cannot follow the crowd
They have a home, a meaningful home
They like the cement, the black air
And bundles of printed paper.
They stamped me mad. Am i?
Maybe I am.
Hey bird, I’m not responsible-
For your destiny, look, look
Look at my hands, there is no blood
Look, look carefully, there is no stain
But I belong to the race, I belong to
The same age, the same world
That changed your fate!
I've no redemption from my sins!
I've no redemption from my sins!
Gaye Sep 2015
Yong Marx, yet to die, jumped
out of an air-conditioned car, a
journey Berlin to Bombay as the
Dream merchant of Utopia
metamorphosed him into a subhuman
white bearded national bourgeoisie.

The third world girl who was climbing a
tree without Motorcycle-
Diaries hung to her clothe looked
like an Engelian mistake possibly
not from Cuba, Zambia or Bolivia,
certainly not a Soviet artefact.

Alienation, self-affirmation and all
unlike modes of production confused
his surplus brain. The dichotomy
of imaginings and reality with the
girl proven anti-thesis kafkaesqued
him an added ****** struggle.

A shift in his struggle with a smile
on her lips gave a  hint of welcome to her
Animal Farm. He did get inside.
The moulded furniture, preoccupied sickle
and the lacking exploitation
left him a disappointing proletariat grin.

She opened her mouth, blue words
did not discharge. Neither the mid wife
nor the revolution pumped her conscience.
He got up, disappointed, alarmed,
cursed the chap who misdirected
to a class-less renewed pattern.

“Comrade” she said shaking his hands,
the blood did stir for a moment but
the fight less slant , **** suits and
her distant reality pained the rationalist.
The amusingly alienated young Marx
jumped into his car and left for utopia.
GaryFairy Aug 2015
No one ever tried to understand
no one ever tried
no one ever held my hand
no one by my side

no one ever talked to my heart
no one ever did
no one ever played a part
everyone always hid

no one ever taught me good
no one ever would
no one felt so misunderstood
no one ever should
i have tried to post this many times
GaryFairy Aug 2015
(You made this monster)

invented by provided feelings of reverence
forced to difference without relevance
with resemblance to hands of elegance
evident difference, deliberate severance

(it is so hard to ****)

envious enemies with torches of treacherous
eloquence lost when pestilence is generous
serpent like in genesis, tenaciously venomous
fighting the exodus against shields of credulous

(and the tower burns)

ignited by chemicals of nominal assessment
tower of suggestion is now infested
where questions and statements are incessant
born by resentment, this basement investment

=====================================================­===

i walk the streets with arms outstretched
never meeting touching grace
i haven't met a decent monster yet
the greenest monstrosity in this place

we are all only pieces left
stitched organs, sewn parts
a dug up heart in my chest
could come alive with some sparks

i haunt these streets of broken dreams
another life to survive
i'm just a being, beyond their screams
it lives, it's alive
GaryFairy Aug 2015
I'm not that bad of a guy
at least no one can say I never tried
is there something wrong with my mind?
just because I cry when I watch Frankenstein?

I find myself walking around blind
sometimes I see them run and hide
"look out!" "he's not our kind!"
I feel their torches burning from behind

maybe I'm just ****** up inside
people ask me if somebody died
I tell them "that's what I'm trying to find"
the body of Frankenstein

https://soundcloud.com/gary-loftis/the-body-of-frankenstein
i posted this before, without the spoken word link
Akemi Aug 2015
Smoke under your clothes
Who’d know?
Summer died beneath you
In some apartment we ****** in
5:23am, August 2nd 2015

Where did you go?
Wuji Seshat Apr 2015
Man is the only being who knows he is alone

This morning, let me drink the silence
Let me swim in my own solitude
Being the profoundest condition
Of my humanity, you’d think

I should get to know her better
Intimacy and silence, that’s all
There every is, I cannot often
Penetrate another being with my love

Since surrender must occur mutually
And there are times my emotion
Does not require reciprocity
This morning, let me forget about altruism

For we all deserve the dream
Beyond myself, somewhere, I shall
Then wait for my own arrival
The slow enlightenment of lifetimes

Because two bodies, naked and entwined
Soul and body, mind and heart must somehow
Learn to live together and leap
Over time, we are not invulnerable

However in the silence of today
I realize there are no yesterdays, no names,
No you and I and no tomorrow
This morning, I want to give myself up
To something higher than I ever was.
Francie Lynch Mar 2015
The geosynchronous
Geppetto One
With us orbits
Round our sun;
Blinking down,
Ringing up,
We're on lines
Like marionettes;
Transmitting selfies,
Receiving otheries.
Time to be Pinnochio,
Cut some ties,
Get up and go,
See eye to eye
When toe to toe,
Watch how small
Our noses grow.
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