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aviisevil Jun 2015
Larry says,
That there is no god
Larry is a cool guy
But I think he should give it a little thought,
I don't have a clue about god either
But does that matter ?
I think it does not
I think its about life and death
Larry won't care about the dead
but he's cool
sometimes Larry walks across the street without even turning his head
I mean traffic moves at neck break speeds, there's bound to be a death
sooner or later
but Larry is a badass or so he wants to portray
personally, I don't like crossing roads, **** scares me to death
I use that word a lot for some reason, death
I fear it, I can't seem to take it out of my head
nights and nights spent dreaming about what I'll leave in this world
I won't live forever, I admit
That hurts
but I don't want to be a cinical  man anymore
I don't think I ever wanted that in the first place
but life is weird, things just happen most of the time
and once in a while you come across a mirror and see your face
and scream oh lord, what a pathetic loser and turn your face
it's the ultimate disgrace
but that's not larry
he is too smart for that
we wear masks to hide ourselves
he wears one to free himself
same tools, different meaning
opposite stories but the same ending
almost poetic in nature
Larry was a poet too
a decent one at that
and he reminded me so much about the things I could've had
if only i wasn't dreaming so much
but sleep is so beautiful
how beautiful must be death
if there's a place I want to die
I want it to be in my bed
but Larry would rather
ride a missile to the school
I think that's.........okay
if its a Sunday and nobody is at school, otherwise not cool
But Larry is cool if you can look past that thing that has a chance of happening more remotely then him becoming a super saiyan,
What I am sayin' is
That there is no denying that Larry is at least has an imagination
he loves fantasy and talks in weird languages that honestly looks like he's having a seizure
He does it for leisure
what a geek, right ?
But geeks are cool now, aren't they ?
I mean, rock is dead
that's a blow
people play sports on a couch
okay
wars are boring
big nations attack a smaller nation that then attacks the bigger nation back until the smaller nation is destroyed by a host of other countries that were sold weapons by the big nation that started it, or you know.. they fail
But whatever, there's much good left in this world though the television and the media will have you believe otherwise
Though what is good does not always mean that it is not stupid as ****
It'll make you sick
But it's not harming anyone
only the people who watch it
it clicks
that's all there it is to that
Larry doesn't watch telly no more
he's beyond all that
He watches them when he wants
where he wants, how he wants
the thought haunts me often
That someone somewhere has a faster internet connection
I mean internet is like a thing now, I mean there has already been an inspection
of how awesome this new world is,
It's people and cultures
Free of boundaries and limits
Achieving the impossible everyday
A thing so huge
Even we can't comprehend it
and we made that **** up
( for the already dumb one )
and when I say we,
I mean we as collective species
and not as me and other individuals
but clearly, it's massive
where there's not only okay to be a thief but completely acceptable
I mean that's a spectacle
a mockery of laws of the land that you understand as an adult that thou won't steal from the other man
And they rebel against any management whatsoever
And that's how its supposed to be
So we're fine... I guess
Unless the skynet ?
Larry told me
skynet is already here
Waiting in our computers
Watching us and hearing us
All the ******* time
That means
Someone or something knows about everything of mine
that's just so ******' embarrassing and awkward and scary
But embarrassing and scary.... And it makes one feel ***** about oneself, maybe that's what's the problem is
We no longer get to be ourselves
think about it
When was the last time you said something or wrote something without thinking about it
you can be honest about it but you'll still lie to yourself, you still doubt it
if you really are what you see in the mirror, in the photos
Or through what they say about you
yet world has the many
And you have the few
Larry says he has more friends than he can accept
I find that statement strange at times but I haven't been able to inquire about it
but that's okay, Larry is a cool guy
he does his own business and still wears a tie
I mean, how often do you wear a tie when you don't have to
I think most humans are lazy and that'll be the last thing we'll do
Wear ties while deciding what to buy and what to sell
what to make and what to feed the hell with, oh hell
But they give birth as they gift death
I've seen some videos, I've seen some heads
nuclear families hiding in depths of the dark
destroying the fourth somebody many times apart
But that's just a theory
Less likely then R+L= j
I wish that would happen but if something else happens I would still be glad to have seen the end
I don't want to be lost this time, that would really **** my friend
Larry wouldn't watch the show
Because he thinks its not cool no more
When things like these happen, you know-
Those little small things that you observe sometimes
That reminds you that you are glad to be yourself rather than being another at least one human you know,
Mostly the ones you hate, given they hate you or maybe they don't
It doesn't matter
Or maybe the ones purely evil
Coming to evil
Larry says that every man has good and bad in them
And I've heard that from everybody
But it's something that is harder to teach than learn
You're own on your own, in the middle
While a pack of wolfs bark all around you
Nobody gives a **** anymore
For one thing
This world we have made
I've always wondered,
Is it not a world of distraction
rather than a world of progress
I guess every one is a Larry
Who only ever thinks about himself
But pretends to be kind in person
That doesn't matter
Because what is, it is
I remember a story I once told Larry when I was at an altitude and had a head-ache and could barely sit up or breath up,
That was a real **** up
And I told him, what if a child who never learns that Santa is not real and never assumes anything, grows old and die, never knowing that Santa has never been,
Would it matter
Now that the man shall never be,
With all he has ever seen
Wouldn't it be a lovely dream
To be in a world
Where there's more than death

even without god ?
not a poem ?
On the land molded by footsteps and ruled by obnoxiously bleached clowns,
Visited by swarms of neighborhood guttersnipes and the opulent from uptown.

Allured by the traditional Irish circus music and the grinding of rusted gears,
To arrive at dawn and to leave only when the night sky is tired of fireworks and flares.

Skittish and gleaming eyes would roll on the floor, struck by daze and lost in wonderment,
At the marvel of giant steel rides and god forsaken and socially foretoken genetic mutants.

The word of a woman with two faces and the boy with a tail would make any catholic priest run.
Amusing the rational ones, alongside the man with elastic skin and the girl with the forked tongue.

The opera lady with outlandish proportions and tumorous lips sings to break a piece of cheap glassware.
Little do people know,that the magician’s red gloves are actually stained with blood of rabbit that disappeared.

Their noses get caught in the medley of fragrances from the exotic perfumes shop,
Blended with the saccharine tang from the stall that sells candy floss and soda pops.

Indulging over the overly priced confectioneries at the stall of the baker with the forbidding grin.
Try it a hundred times,try it a thousand,you’ll never get the fifth one right in the game of rings.

People will come out screaming from the haunted house,only to laugh about it later,
Little do they know,that skeletons that drove them pale and white couldn't get any realer.

They’ll jostle and struggle to make their way through the crowd to various rides and attractions.
Hustling to navigate through the maze the carnival is, encountered by countless illusions.

And once your body wears out and senses give in,that’s when you've truly entered the carnival state of mind.
Your ears stinging ,nose stifled,tongue baffled, eyes exhausted,and your sense of judgment blinded.

That’s when my masked act begins,the most profitable act at the carnival,
Diving into the heart of the crowd,to draw an act of brilliance lasting an ephemeral.

Slithering across the crowd in a different disguise every hour,concealed by stealth.
Sneaking into every nook and corner and slipping my furtive hands into your pockets for a little bit of wealth.

Only to dine with the clowns and the carnival family at the haunted house at the end of the day.
**And of course, rabbits for dinner,if the baker may
Marie-Chantal Dec 2014
Observing Raven feather-full,
A gleam of blue on black.
The beady eye could look at me
And widen every crack.

Mocking with
Hollow call.
Watch! Don’t let that feather fall.
Promises it’s not hole.

The Raven whispers thoughts of doubt,
Insides sobbing “let me out!"
A thought indeed bizarre
But one can only think that...
“Maybe these birds are?"

A glooming sense of winged wisdom,
Although black and beady eyed,
It would not come as a shock
That their little birds, they never cried!

One cannot help but wonder
If they can see indoors?
Of course it may not seem so
but they always come in fours!

Look out the window frame,
Take a peek!
Observe the Raven’s coarse black beak.

*Just mind he doesn’t watch you back,
Or he will widen every crack.
I have always had a fascination with ravens, and I just found this and edited it. It's been a long time coming, I think.
Emanuel Dec 2014
Separateness is a lie. We never die. You can lie in the sky. The pizza is a pie. The horse is the guy. Rangers are spies. Children are flies. Telephones tell lies. There is no surprise. There's truth in demise. A house cannot fly. Our home is alive.
http://www.shootpoetry.com/bloggy/august-3rd-2014-the-white-butterfly
Eva Louise Nov 2014
the onus of breathing
the duty of eating
tasks of a desk job
the burden called living

humans clicking their tongues
and making mouth sounds
speaking rhythms and tunes
that mean nothing to me

I bury my eyes,
swallow my voice
just stop existing
"be a good boy"

let me fall asleep
wake up 6 feet underground
i'll be smiling
with no feet above me
Edna Sweetlove Nov 2014
My toothpick
Is impaled on the wall
Of goatiness
This a rabbit's prayer
Nor will I
Heed Thee
When the cat
Walks through the dark
Cushion of hate
Let me know
Why
I pick big fleshy
Mucus from my nose
Chewing noisily.
Silence Screamz Oct 2014
Slip knotted into my past,
blood soaked cloth covers my eyes.
You are uninvited.
This is bizarre. Am I going crazy?

My paradise is lost in the deep,
no survival or sunset.
No headlights working,
the black balloon burst.

Swallowing broken glass
and coughing up crimson.
I lay on bed on nails
with a thousand holes in my back.

Excepting my realities,
is it all lies in my head.
Not knowing the truth,
my memories are a myth.
What you've been waiting for.
The irresistible minerals of our afterlife
Awakened them from their recurring coma.

Radiation descended toward jagged terrain.

A deer was calcified.
I would be too if I was that genuine creature.
Pleading just pleading,
The impact depressed the earth,
Taking me down underground.
I'm outside of your eyes.

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

(Originally written 12/4/10
Revised 9/24/14)
k Jul 2014
shrouded by the freckles on her cheek,
i watched the shadows of the settling day fall over her
skin and i forgot what it meant to dream,
for she was the epitome of an easy saturday morning that you never
wanted to wake up from,
she was in my blood and she was a spaceship that would never take off.
i screamed for her to take me away,
abduct me, make me one of your species,
make me love you even deeper than is possible for a human being.

she tethered me to her with her restless spirit;
i wanted to keep believing in her for an unsettlingly enormous infinity,
i wanted to lay by her side and chase the shadows on her back for as long as i could remember.

opening her lips, she burned an image in my mind of her, and i shoved it down my throat and into my heart,
burying her in my soul with dirt under my fingernails,
with blood crusted in my eyes.
this is for you
nadya s Jul 2014
Are you ready for a nightmare
Which comes every night
Presents the unwanted fairytale
They call it,
Arrival of The Dark Fairies
That allegedly can depress you
Drives you crazy
Destroys your soul into pieces
Makes you try to **** yourself
Knocks you out
Into the abyss of darkness

They vowed to torment humans
and will never let them go...

One day
A poor little girl dreamed
She nestled coarsely
By the fairies
And they asked her,
"Are you living,
Or just existing?"
This is the most bizarre poetry ever. Please correct if my grammar was wrong. Bcus im just 13 years old. Comment pls! Ily guys
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