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When water became water, not lemon and lime,
I drank for the pleasure, not to pass time.

When bread became bread, not pizza and cake,
I'm hearing my stomach, and it needs a break.

When danger becomes danger, not fear on a screen,
I stopped checking corners for foes unseen.

When fire becomes fire, not mirrors and smoke,
my friends sit together, and nurture our hope.

When food becomes famine, and future unknown,
we'll treasure our friends, instead of our homes.
About: About breaking free of the conditioning of living in a very consumerist society.
Aaron Beedle Mar 17
The slender shades that eyes evade.
Pushing, rolling, breaking, fixing.
Working hard, draining days.
Thrashing, mauling, tweaking, cringing.
Crying pleas, the beggars' seal,
a veteran voice of tired appeal.

The pheromones of filthy beasts,
riches of the silver peaks,
a cocktail made to quench the thirst of the class that comes in first.
And off with the shades in a wooden hearse.

They find the fact the sun will shine down into worlds
of salt and lime a relieving sign, of better times,
but sedated is this state of hope and with it their ambitions broke.
Light indeed is what they are, of coin and health and lands afar.
And in this state of steam and shadows,
they long for rules and signs and arrows.
About: Being working class and selling your time off for a tiny amount of money and not questioning the state of things.
Man Feb 24
So the freaks who have more alienated themselves,
And as consequence us all,
As though they are royalty
Slander the name of all of Europe;
It's nobility & law,
It's cultures & histories?
Asia and the Africas,
Even those of this same continent?

Where do you hope to go, creatures?

For when, not now if,
You craft for yourself a throne,
We shall pin you to it
And make ourselves a new monument.
There, on the banks of reflection,
You will hear our rally call;
Then you shall fall.

Ad tyrannos calcamus!
I would advise against trying it,
Lest you are hanged like traitors.
Man Feb 24
Bow to the aspirant? Be defiant!

Quite the to-do of the ado hoo-ha.
Shan't you have forgot,
The place you have come up
Is and forever will be democratic.

If Kings are making a comeback,
Kneel.
Give me the crown
Or I will pick it out of the gutters:
I will pick it off your corpse.

If there's pitch to be made,
Prepare for the tar & feathers.
Prepare for the pikes & pitchforks,
For the oil & torch.

Blockade your birdges, flood your moats,
Ready the given defenses!

If Kings are making a comeback,
I will **** you with pen
And put you to death by the sword.

We will march your head around
After we've torn it off.
We will parade your silly decrees about
After we've ripped them apart.
We will drag your body through town
After we've murdered you.

There we'll leave you
In some famous roundabout,
For the crows to feast;
For the animals to pick you clean.

They will say of you,
"Now he's only skull & crossbones!
I had thought him a royal
But he burned & boiled -
Screamed & soiled,
Just the same as I would!"

Sins of the father, eh?
I only hope you didn't ***** your family
With your crimes & repulsiveness.

Submit to the giant? Slay the tyrant!
Serapis - Carte Blanche in Psíthyros,
Psíthyros of Carte Blanche
Graeme Feb 6
My young, eager eyes lapped up the forest as fervently as they could.
Novelty was what they hungered for, as my axe did for ****** wood.
It was fresh. New.
The Pacific Northwest wasn't ready for us.
Wife and I moved out here a couple months ago with the promise we'd make a good, honest living out here.
Y’know, these trees are so beautiful… real shame we’ve gotta cut ‘em all down for a whole lot less than what we was promised.
Progress… for what?
I don't think I wanna do this anymore…
but I must.
Onto the next tree. Hope this one's easier to cut down.
Written on 2025-02-05.

This piece is set in the perspective of a young logger, who moved to the Pacific Northwest in the late 1800s during the Second Industrial Revolution in the United States. It was inspired by an Aidin Robbins video on YouTube about a rainforest in Idaho. I conceived this at the end as I realized as Aidin existentially asked, “what am I doing here [in this forest]?”, I realized that the people who cut down the forest as he showed a log cabin and talked about the loggers, who must have thought the same thing that some of them must have definitely questioned the prospect of chopping down such beautiful trees and irreversibly ruining ecosystems for the sake of profit, striking it rich for what they were told was “a better future”.
Trinkets Feb 12
CAP
hear me out, I have a plan,
increase profits while investing
as little as we possibly can
we’ll create an image of them and call it “success”
to give an image of their life prospects

create a worldwide obsession
with this thing
we’ll call it “money”
while giving it to nobody

ask their children what they want to be
make productivity be their life expectancy
the established illusion of worth in gold
that's what they'll be told

we know of basic human needs
we’ll enforce a new one
the need of greed
we'll start with banks
ideas of worth beyond a number
and that's where we will build this power

we’ll have struggles remain to keep the profit
have to keep them on their toes
keep them suffering to work this hard for nothing
we’ll decrease the risk of profit loss
just take their space for genuine thought

curiosity creativity new ideas
required for innovation or solution
but we must prevent the risk of them
climbing out of desperation
we’ll keep them busier than ever
no time for self, expression
then give them   j u s t   a hint of having life
be easier through efficiency of trickery

here, use this tool for the sense of creation
instead of painting, do computer visualisation
inner-most dreams an instant donation
provide relief in the trusting belief
that data collection won’t make them bleed
until we know their every thought
replace them through devices they bought

the computer program of information recycler
have them put the information of their lives there
self-improvement program grows to know
be better than them at building growth
we have their minds replaceable
have them learn to feel incapable
we keep this plan from falling apart
through the simple act of having them
devalue their own art

we’ll create this system for communication
interaction instant gratification
with price tags make the image of enough
to portray they’ll pay just buy enough stuff
the image they help to spread
like catching lullabies
to help them fall to sleep
they’ll spend their years avoiding fears
of creating less than perfect portrayal
we’ll take real away make them crave
creating ads with pictures of self, betrayal

for power over their perception
that they can’t see or take part in
the currency through algorithm
meant for us alone
overpowered mind control
control over their lives
paid for by the companies
wanting in on changing minds to hives

what then is the point, they’ll wonder
murmuring through illusioned slumber

we’ll show them that there are exceptions
motivating using tales of hope
disguise it all as piles of gold

we know of basic human urges
we’ll play the limits through diversions
game of myth
hush
whispers
of salvation
because
“surely there is a way”
“if I keep working hard”
“if I have hope I will prevail”

the reward for lifetime servitude
we promise them aging life
end-of-life rescue

they’ll blame themselves
for all their curses
as we take away
their caring nurses

after just a few years
creating the fears
of everyone else on earth
we will finally rule reality
at long last we’ll own their worth

the fear of age and the fear of death
will be cured through dying breaths
basic driving forces and human urges
now in power
over all their lives through
the contents of their knockoff purses
another workday -
ignore the catastrophe,
bury your conscience.

another number,
type away the foreboding,
count down the minutes.

another dollar,
think about the bottomline,
excess overflow.

another warning -
it is coming to an end.
when will we wake up?
existential haikus as the rich becomes richer (and we become casualties)
Heidi Franke Jan 16
Let's walk down a path
Of economic prosperity
Turned to wealth
And forget the person

Definition of improving
What already exists
Translates to robot creation
From human biome matrix

We look over our shoulder
What wAs once us fades
As R and D facilities erase
Try to prove their worth

At what cut in our flesh
How deep into tissue
Or sawed bone are you
Willing to purchase

A world now
                 not our own?
How has progress in the capitalist experiment helped and hurt us? Who is watching the wealth spawned by innovation drown out the pawns. The average human. Who is watching the greed while we really are just an ingredient in someone's experiment? (Think tech industrial complex)

"Research and development (R&D) is the series of activities that companies undertake to innovate. R&D is often the first stage in the development process that results in market research product development, and product testing."
Advertising, and, selling; avarice.
From, a soap box, of; loving hate.
When, it's, screens, are, turned-off,
the blackened, square hole, is; cavernous.
When, it's, viewership, is, turned-on,
the captor's, uncleanly; reel in the bait.

Once, steeled, and, mettled, imaginations.
Welded, into; cerebral shackles.
Worn by, zombies; the meaty prisoners,
in, solitary cells, of; fabrication.
Webbed, lied-to, wrists; impressed upon,
misunderstand, their; upped hackles.

Furring clasps, around; synapses.
The servitude, of, stroke-ing, lost selves.
Capital flesh, is, imprisoned, in, the
cholesterol, of, shop aisles. It collapses.
"There's, MORE, in the back... Hurry up!!
Stop thinking... Stock the shelves!!"

Want's desires; outlived hope, and, outlast,
any, notion, or, sense, of, mind.
Audienced memories, are; captured,
by; forgetful, dredged, enmeshed; pasts.
'Compatriots of Togetherness', are;
canned myth; unlaughed. Re-runs; resigned.

© poormansdreams
K E Cummins Jan 11
Am I too much?
Hard to swallow, a bitter pill?
Am I raw and unprocessed,
Undiluted, concentrated,
Too spicy for your stomach?

Good.

Choke on it.

I won’t cut myself
To bite-size pieces.
I am not a convenient product.

My feathers are not plucked,
My hair is unshorn,
My feet are unshod,
And the muscle of my thigh
Is for kicking, not meat.

Do you not like the taste?
Poor spoiled glutton,
You cannot acquire it.

Find your refined sugar elsewhere –
I do not come pre-packaged.
Got a bit *******
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