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Carlo C Gomez Sep 2023
No malls on weekends
No feathers for tourism
No stopping to read the graffiti
No having lunch with relative hysteria
No making friends and acquaintances
In the paperless world
And no *** music
You see, the common faith is doubt
All wonder, no reason
The hole in your pocket
Becomes the hole in your head
And the last lawsuit
You'll ever need

GaryFairy Sep 2021
where are you located on front street?
i'm the last house on the end
which end?
depends on which end you're coming from

is it on the right or the left?
it depends which way you're facing

well, how do i get to you from the south side?
from the south, i am north
from the north, i am south
from the east, i am west
from the west, i am east

so...where are you coming from?
i guess i don't know until i find out where you're located!
If this confuses or offends you, then it is for you
Ken Pepiton Jun 2021
Accepting quantum fuzziness and discreteness,

u-h-d allows the idea of seeing one thing is not the other,
über aber ich weis nicht

focus, this is spiritual, not religious, this is inner-bubble space,
pick a hat, here's a Dumbo feather

… "and called it macaroni."

A line forms an ancient meme, in the Spirit of America,
dancing children singing and waving tri-colors,
performing grammar school maypole pageants
in conjunction with the ashtorothean rites called passion,
feeling earth warm to the dance of our
sowing of the seed, celebrate, the coming of the sun
to the appointed time as time is measured
on the stone that bhers witness to our we formed spirit.

We are walkers along the spiral, twisting this way then
to that once,
you felt me make a point you felt was your tic to on point,
predictions pile in unverifiable belivable, but easy to believe,
life is good, in terms of essential being, elemental preceptions

glimpse of something super-semantic tic super symmetrick

not having seen hell, from the perspective of the conqueror,
leaves any weapon fit to fight the reality hell forms
unlike any weapon as yet imagined better, truth as a concept
any mind may form to hold,
from holding nothing, as a thought, then in a word caught
as thought
think this is the trick to quantum being, be
a bit.

See how it does feel to be real, ah, as in Wings of Desire,
I knew I did not suffer through that film in vain.

Anthro-poor-morphed angels imagined as unread messages,
felt where good is the only thing ever
felt real,
as real as any angel's kiss, but just a kind word heard, as thought.
Not until the end did I discover why I watched the film, a true exercise in patience which is a virtue, thus zoning clearminded staring through mechanical eyes attempting to write between the lines and change your mind.
Unpolished Ink May 2021
A brainwash seems a good idea
give it a scrub and hang to dry in the breeze
summer fresh and cleaned of ******
let the wind refresh your mind
while you find a comfy chair
to sit and wait for it to air
Carlo C Gomez Jul 2020
You're only pretty
If you wear this
            have this
            are this

You're only cool
If you smoke this
            drink this
            own this

You need it NOW
            Before it's gone!

A new and improved you

                  (Until we tell you otherwise)
Anastasia Aug 2019
the world is getting too bright
i cant tell that something isn't right
something else is dripping
from the tears in my skin
you told me not to
let the darkness in in
but you left
so what's the point
let's set fire
to this joint
the matches are there
no need to stare
reach into my pocket
nothing you can to stop it
not anymore
i'll start this chaos
i've got people to brainwash
this is what happens when you abandon me
i told you but i guess you wanted to see
burn down the room
decorate your tomb
gave you my heart
but you decided to spend it
gave you life
now it's my turn to end it
Chris Jul 2019
Dark,bleak days are coming, darker yet ahead,
Would say I am sorry, but won't 'cause I'll be dead.

Sour land below us and angry sky above,
And those who seek to control us, have morons sell us love.

We've severed the connections, not our fault we didn't mean,
We're under the protection of almighty mobile screen.

I'd rather I was mental, I'd rather that  I was gone,
In the world that ***** on metal, I cannot be or belong.

I know the tastes wildly differ, and can tear people apart,
But I'll never ever consider, to consume that which you call art.
If you wanna hear something different go to:
OZAR Jan 2019
days passed by like a minute long

the kid became a grown, and still can't get along

his head was filled with hatred when he was young

grown up to see a world where he doesn't belong

everyone is an enemy if they do not speak his tongue

to a piece of paper he has worshiped and clung

praised a killer whom with a sword has swung, over the heads of Civilians who were overhung

was taught not to think, so to the reason he tried to slung

was told not to say what is in heart, kept the words under his tongue  

he always knew it was all wrong, but doesn't want them to be unstrung

next step, used to hear but not to perform

used to feel the lie even in its best form

used to see the elders but not to inform

nor even to adapt nor to find the conform

time by time knew that his mind was in a deform

however his mind still suffering from them worms

and only 'the reason' was the way to reform

but can't to the society nor to himself transform

nowhere to hide from the freeze...nowhere is warm

death was the only one way to leave the swarm
Talking about religion and it's effect on me when i recognized it was all lie
Civilized life is rigged, O land-dwellers!
With landmines hidden
in trails of Society's doctrine,
'Too often is it stepped on,
Too often does it explode.'
Blowing constitutions to smithereens,
Where you then rummage within your nucleus
to piece together your scattered jigsaw,
Misplacing your natural elements,
Overcasting your ability to side with beauteous aspects in simplicity—
Of those ethereal-resplendent butterflies.
Disillusioned on land thus is you (the complex you).

Let go—
Rise above your materialistic graves—
Walk on air!
My kindred wisps
Walk on air!
Charlie Dog Jan 2018
How can you say you hate them?
And not realize the irony
How can you hate your own race?
Do you not hear in yourself “that’s a part of me”?
You attempt to distance yourself by making jokes at their expense.
Try to disguise it as humor, but I can see past your pretense.
All of your white friends, whom with you wish to blend,
Will follow suit, then use you as a scapegoat by saying
“Nah, it’s cool man. I have an Asian friend.”
Don't you realize, with your own words you're cutting yourself down
Don’t do this to yourself man, you are not a clown-
To be laughed at and mocked
Neither are the others whom this ridicule has flocked
Be proud of who you are, and from where you came.
Pass yourself off as a joke and others will do the same.
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