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Julian Delia Sep 2019
Black Friday sales and Christmas deals;
Hot on the next bargain’s trail,
Itching to fill the void the heart feels.
Transactions and agreements,
Trappings, false achievements.
Welcome to the era of the shopping mall;
This is where your dreams hop off to die,
This is their final port of call.

Everything and everyone is a commodity;
Barcoded, plastic-wrapped merchandise,
Categorisation for you and your progeny.
If money doesn’t germinate from its seed,
If it does not clothe and feed,
Then it is not something we need.

We are a philistine’s *******.
We strive to achieve the American scheme;
Delusional and overworked, about to scream,
Believing all of us can be billionaires forever,
As the planet grows hungry and lean.

Or, believing some deserve yachts and limousines,
That some should starve,
Whilst others gorge themselves on fine cuisines.
Believing that society should be divided in layers,
Assuaging our guilt with thoughts and prayers,
When instead, we could have just refrained from leaving others behind.

When everything becomes a commodity,
Art for the sake of making it becomes an oddity.
Poets retire their pens,
And painters put down their brushes -
Apathy and despair fog the lands,
Like irradiated wind corrupting everything it touches.

Singers go quiet, actors go numb;
Musicians will riot, orators will be struck dumb.
When our own turn on us, tell us to get “a real job”,
When “job creators” are done calling us “lazy slobs”,
None of us will be around to point out the irony.

We will go extinct, a dying breed, finally gone;
Life will be succinct, the greedy will have won.
Slay your kings and queens, or remain a pawn.
Tell me I'm wrong.
lbbueno Aug 2018
I'm everywhere all at once
In my mind I am making love in Chechnya
But I don't call it that
I am writing a speech for my middle school graduation in Texas
Where all I know is brown and white
I listen to the world news in black market USBs
That I got from a guy at a parking lot
Wondering who am I loyal to
My soul or survival
The freed are never free of everything--
No matter where I go
I am still my father’s seed
The way he carried me
I carry his sins
While creating my own breed--
The Revolution Will Not Be Televised
It will be Instagrammed

I am an egg
Inside a black hole
I am yet to grow old
Because I am yet to be--
I am here,
But my mind is not
As I lay my head to rest
I raise my hopes to wake up tomorrow
More than I did today
Conjurer of spells,
I stir phrases
in a witch's cauldron.....
wizard's breath to
tint the potion
Let it boil over
Reduce the excess
add emotion
and a four leaf clover

Temperature at serving time defines the tone and
type of incantation
Cold spells work
as heartless breaths
Warm ones jubilation
Hotter brew brings swift results
Careful even death

My sorcery is well disguised
as poetry and song.  
I'll have you laugh,
yank a tear or
make a day
feel twice as long.

I'll look you in the eye
as I feed you all
my truths and lies
None can break the grip
of words I wield,
won't know to even try

Warlock...my voice enchants
let me whisper in your ear
You'll result bewitched....
but if I hold you high .....
there's never need to fear
Inspired by Jamahdi Verse's Spells collection
Rahmmie SA May 2018
...
     "This isn't who you are."

    "You're not the girl I used to know."

   "I don't know who you've become."

He repeats these lines
So much these days
It annoys me more than
A broken record ever could
Ever should
Ever would
Cause I told him
I warned him thoroughly

     "I'm not nice."

    "You won't like the real me."

   "I'm not worth fighting for."

But he didn't listen
He filled my head with empty
Promises that he meant
He filled my heart with hollow
Vows that he could never fulfill

     "How can a person be so cold?"

    "How can a lady be so cruel?"

   "How can you change so fast?"

He looks hurt and
I hurt a little
But I shut down
Cause that's what I always do

     "I'm nefarious, lover."

    "Had my heart broken a few times."

   "Now it's made of stone."
I hope Nefarious Breed finds this.♥♥♥
Poetic T Apr 2018
Breed for only
         choirs of pain.

Crimson silence pays out.
dog fights, who would want to see this, its barbaric.
JR Rhine Jul 2017
Take me to your *******
@cisgenderwhitemale
in salmon shorts sport polo
boat shoes and expensive cologne—

I, emissary of the InterPlanetary
Order of Eugenically-Minded Denizens (IPOEMD),
have come to rid the world
of this contagion—

who for too long has
beguiled us with their
wicked fashion sense
and appalling profile pictures

appearing on friends’ dad’s yachts
smiling behind a pair of Ray-Bans
with a glass of champagne
drunk underage.

Your valedictorian address
bored me,
your sexist racist homophobic xenophobic (etc. etc.)
inside jokes to your friends
on the lacrosse team
sickened me—

I’ve had to listen to you
brag about your ***** size
since puberty and your discovery
of Spike TV—

I watch you mock Black English
in tweets and hashtags
from locker rooms where
the talk can range from
racial slurs to ****-shaming spurs

(talk never to ****
upon its potential revelation
in a political campaign)—

I film your weddings
where you dance all night
in your Aryan enclave
to top 40 songs
screaming “This is my jam!!!”

I scroll through your #familyvaca2k17 posts,
the immaculate hotels and poolside views
concealing the succeeding flophouses crumbling adobes
and dog-ridden streets of dirt and infinite trash—

I see you engrave in bold
ALL LIVES MATTER
BLUE LIVES MATTER
AMERICAN LIVES MATTER
on every writable surface—

and as a meninist,
lament about the harrowing trials
as a victim of reverse racism.

[The white man’s burden
is to carry the weight
of their inability
to be anything
other than
incorrigible.]

I have come to rid the world of you
once and for all:

Taking the Gideon’s bible
from every hotel
and replacing it with
feminist literature,

burning down every
Banana Republic and
coinciding shopping mall,

cutting the brakes
to every Mercedes, Lexus,
and BMW with a
“Salt Life” sticker
on the back window—

You wear your ethnocentrism
like the sleeves of the cardigan
wrapped around your neck
swaying in the air conditioned wind
like a little cape—

[Behold, Cis-Man!

Whose superpowers include:

Getting away with ****
and perpetuating **** culture,

Minimal jail sentences (if at all),

Guaranteed college entry,

Speeding ticket immunity,

and impeccable draft dodgings.]—

I solemnly swear,
I make a pledge
to never procreate
if it will perpetuate
this vile sect of humankind—

I take a vow of celibacy,
I spill my ***** into the dirt—
not one egg will be fertilized,
not one will be conceived

to the soundtrack of Coldplay,
or Kid Rock, or whatever hair metal ballad
conceived you in the first place—

You are a logical phallicy.

You want to talk about eugenics,
you want to stop
breeding all the “retards
spittin’ on your kids”
at the amusement park—

Pledge chastity with me:
Interbreed,
undilute the strain—

and together,
we can end
the White Man’s True Burden:
Existence.






(p.s.
And it is with great irony
that I write this as one of you—
the Judas to your
Megachurch TV Caucasian Christ—

I write it because
if it were by one of
whom you’ve held
under your [jackboots to boat shoes]
since time immemorial—
they’d never stand
to read it—

for even mutiny
among these ranks
has its own
privileges.)
Arcassin B Jan 2017
By Arcassin Burnham


Screaming from the shadows hoping somebody hears ya,
Even though nobody cares to notice ya,
Mindful eyes get left dry but they fall down on ya,
There's no secret to your flaws cause they're exposing ya,
I see the fire in your eyes , you're a tough one,
The cookies don't crumble here but others try to persuade the weak,
Reavaluating life choices and separating the good friends from
The bad friends knowing they all despise ya,
Here! You help me with this one thing and I'll promise you won't
Ever have to see me again , talking with everybody,
So you don't have to live with so much selfhate and doubt in ya,
You're strong,
I'm proud of ya,
You usually don't talk too much,
But out of these wannabes, you're a different breed,
With situations in life that'll make you hang yourself then kick over
The chair if you need,
But don't do that please.
©ABPoetry2017
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2017/01/the-unknown-flame-2.html
Jordan LC Murphy Apr 2016
Alas my breed is dying,
Ol' warrior of the sea,
Sail and conquered the furthest reach,
Of which there's no denying,
Born and bred for fighting,
Real descendants of vikings,
Broad by shoulders,
Broad by heart,
Charged by gods of lightning,
⚡️⚡️⚡️
Thundered through storms,
A hundred or more,
And plundered the shores of likening,
Alas my breed is dying,
For our past has been lost,
To the treasures of time,
Our pedigree drained,
Such a pitying plight,
How best to describe?
My pain and my strife,
When words are so weak!
"How I will miss.. my ol' dying breed"..
Abdullah Ayyash Jan 2016
I do as well agree
This world is a sad one indeed
Earth can never be a place of peace
When evil still spread its seeds
Earth can never be home again
When selfishness continue to breed
History told us its tales
With the voice of its victims
And written when they bleed
Cut those pages in million pieces
And make them fire's feed
No magic wand can solve everything
It's only justice, what we really need
© Copyright
Abdullah Ayyash
January 7th, 2016
Arcassin B Jun 2015
By Arcassin Burnham

×disbelief that I would be the one,
She puts flame where my soul use to be,×
×The rest of my physical fades to the gallows,
But I would be dead wrong if I planted the seed,×

~I would hit you with stems if it was him,~
~I put the pumpkin seeds in the right place
Just to please him~

×did she please me yet,
I'm finding anything she does as a killing
factor at this point,
But there's no need to point,
The fingers of deceit,
If it was me,
I'm certainly,
Excited for the garden that I breed,
The real one.
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2015/06/02-real-garden-roses-mep.html
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