Brad post 11h
If I gave you a knife,
and asked you to cut,
would you do it I wonder,
and if so, how much?


Would you hesitate?
Would your mind suddenly freeze?
Or would you take pleasure,
in bringing me to my knees?


Would the sight of my blood,
shock you enough to quit?
Would the sight of the scars,
make you loosen your grip?


Would the simple knowledge,
of those scars frighten you?
When you realized,
they were both old an new?


Would the memories pour in,
of holding the same knife askew?
Memories of cutting,
when I didn’t ask you to.


Would your anger, and hatred,
suddenly melt away?
When you realized I was ASKING,
for you to cut me this way.


Would you finally break down,
when you could hear my words?
“I am sorry, I deserve this”,
over and over whispered.


Would you take me in your arms,
and try to soothe me?
I’d like to believe you would,
if you could only see.


I’ll allow you to cut me,
because it’s what I earned.
I just wish you would stop,
or at least show concern.

my dreams forgotten
the moment my eyes open

frightening sleep induced
my mind keeps secret
to protect
my abused brain
from more horror
and monsters

when i have remembered
they are carved into
my body
i numb to the memory
it is too damaging
to my brittle soul
to hold onto what my mind
has circling beneath
my consciousness

daydreaming is a favourite past time of mine
i swim in the fantasies of a life
i would bury my full attention
to at least, in one place in this world,
though not real,
i could be, just once,
someone other than what i was

a mutilated, defective
little blonde haired human
in a home
where maniacs mocked and violated
the innocence i only possessed
for the first few years of my life
oppressed and beaten
to a point where i was
swollen and blemished
where i didn't even know
who i was
only a victim of hatred
and abuse carried from
generation to generation


I ended the cycle.

I screamed until I was blue
and made the world that is
domestic violence
halt in its tracks
and told it no.
never. again.
will you harm another
little human.
will you harm,
an adult who was still
in the quick sand
of abuse.

i got out.
(at 24).
i set myself free.

jagged pieces
that are mine now,
not theirs,
put back together
into the puzzle i was
before i emerged
into what became my existence.
my innocence stolen
but not forgotten
i reclaimed fresh air
let it
give new life
into my lungs.

breathing out the black tar
of neglect

breathing out the
white picket fence,
the red brick one storey,
a facade, the mask needed, to
which gave way to allow
my father to hurl everything
he could our way,
so we could burden
his own deep, harrowing pain,
where he was beaten with a belt by his father,
and controlled mercilessly by his mother.
he gave onto me.
our little family.
completely broken.
it could never be repaired.
we. are. separate.
and we. are. broken.
for good.
for now and for later.
and it’s all your fault.
and the saddest thing of all,
is i will never know what having a real, beautiful family
Mike D 1d

The unknown

A black and empty space
that I must face
Can not trace
or able to see
Nothing for me
Try to erase
This race I entered

The void
A voyager
in Space
Traveling on time’s back
back in time
A constant loop
Am I a passenger
or Commander of this ship?

At Captain’s Wheel
I stand
in command
steering and turning
The wheel squeaks & whistles
A constant burning
in my mind
Clarity I find
yet still I lie
That the input I place
is simply a waste
Full of certainty
that it is I, yes me
the one who decides
when and where in my time
destiny I will find
But silently I know
that down below
the wheel that I turn
to no where it goes
And my commands
or orders I give
simply exist to give me
a false sense of security

That somehow I can decide
the direction I will steer my life
But a laughing stock I am
to think such a plan
or planning of sorts
will be the will of the one
who stands at the helm
in full uniform
while uniformly conforming
in some small ways
So that when displayed
the person they see
will be agreeable
to them and able to fit
Stand if they stand
Sit if they sit
Standing orders given
A blanket encompassing all
big or small
makes no difference
because it makes no sense
Common sensibility
is not so common
and right or wrong
is a gray area at best

All falling into
‘No man’s land’
A place where all is right
and all is wrong
Can’t decide what is correct
No matter
for decisions and input
are only placebo effects
or nocebo if wrecked
or damaged by design
There is no sign
Yet other’s exist
No exit for you
None wanted by me
I sit and listen
to the band
as the ship
sinks gloriously

Written: April 22, 2018

All rights reserved.
Take me as you want me
Take till i am empty
Feelings hit the table like spilt milk
I walk away leaving you with the mess that is
And i
Puddles of white color the floor around your feet
My life is not so neat as i make it seem
I wear my heart on my sleeve like it's going out of style
Threads coming loose at the seams
Eventually i am left sleeveless
Standing on the table now
Holding my heart in one hand
An empty glass in the other
I start to run
Run from
Spilt milk.
This is how i feel my feelings are when i have someone important in my life but am trying not to scar them away
I've laid on my back
And taken you willingly,

Because I thought I was powerless...

And you thought you were powerful.

But if you look closely,
You'll find we're the same.

Just two sides of a coin...

Who can't see each other's face.
And don't know each other's name.
I’ve killed myself
A Thousand Times.
I killed my Idealistic Self
With a Yemeni dagger,
And left my rotting corpse on the Streets of Baghdad
For the vultures and jackals
To consume.
I left my Political Self
In a White House basement file
Where it was incinerated by paranoid bureaucrats
Attempting to cover up a sex scandal
With a hot, Colombian hooker in Cartagena.
My Romantic Self
Jumped off the White Cliffs of Dover
When it realized that love
Is impermanent.
My Intellect
Became self-destructive
When it realized that a College Degree
Won’t guarantee
A decent job.
My Aspiration for Success
Overdosed on heroin
When it couldn’t cope
With the Pain of Failure.
My Patriotic Self
Draped an American Flag
Over its naked body
On the streets of Kabul, Afghanistan,
Poured gasoline on the flag
And ignited itself in self-immolation
When it realized
That the earnings of American Taxpayers
Were being siphoned off
By the Taliban.
My Popular Self
Leaped off the top of a Manhattan Skyscraper
While high on cocaine
After feeling rejected
By  a party of wealthy celebrities.
My Prosperous Self
Was burned to death
While igniting a pile of cash
Out of frustration
That Money doesn’t  guarantee happiness.
My Sexual Self
Bled to death
When It smashed its face in the mirror
‘Cause it couldn’t turn anyone on
Any more.
My Religious Self
Was incinerated in the bonfire
Of its own fervor
Fueled by the Scriptures
Of all the Great Religions of the World.
The Atheists couldn’t save It.
It was
Determined to die.
"O God! if I worship Thee in fear of Hell, burn me in Hell; and if I worship Thee in hope of Paradise, exclude me from Paradise; but if I worship Thee for Thine own sake, withhold not thine everlasting beauty."

----------Rabia Basri
Yudoni 4d
Man it's a lot of shit,
Analysing, brain frying,
Patronising, always trying,
They disguising, people dying,
Thrown in head first,
Shown how to make it worse,
Suppressed till you gonna burst,
Can't express except through verse.
Powerful men, we can't stop them,
They fight the problem with the problem,
We just ignore it, say 'fuck it, sod them',
Told what is yours, what you need,
Told off if you don't pay to feed,
Can't find some land, plant some seeds,
Cause its all owned by some man's greed,
I'm still happy, roof above me, food in my belly,
But I can see its all just money,
I just want a garden and a stream,
One day I'll live my own dream. (2/3/2018)
What a world
I want to possess you.

I want the quivering of your throne,
The trembling of your bones underneath me.
I want beautiful blood to bleed for me.
Reach for me from your place beneath me.

Between my fingers
I want to feel the struggling breaths of your heart,
Pinched veins in your throat,
And your whimper like a sweet tart.
In the dark...the dark.

The dark in my selfish eyes match the night.
The coo in my voice tells you it's fine...
Bruises ruin ruined skin,
I make you mine.

Thin nails along your jaw,
Devil's claw.
Say it now, say it raw:
You are mine.

Never let another come near,
Nor touch you, taste you.
Raging jealousy, I fear.
You are my pet who speaks when I say, my dear.

On the scent of musk, a predator's lust;
I must admit unsettling crime:
I'm tired of watching...
I'll make you mine.

Now beg for me.
Rope 'round your wrists,
Under my control.
You are darling like this.

Teeth leave starved greedy marks,
Labored torn lips and fingertips
Where the sweat pools in the dark...
The dark.
Self-explanatory, but I wanted to go for something a little more adult and violent. May edit this more later; for now, I am exhausted.
We control this place
We've taken charge
Of this No Man's Land.
We don't need the United States
Or the United Nations.
To give their approval.
If you refuse to comply with our edicts
We'll simply blast you to bits
Those who enter the area under our control
Must  be deferential to us,
Even if you kowtow to us
And accede to our demands,
We're liable to be
Suspicious of You.
We call the shots around here,
But don't feel obliged to "make sense",
As you Infidels describe it.
"Making Sense",
Doesn’t make any sense to us.
So, to Hell with  all that Nonsense!
If you want to lecture us about Human Rights,
Women's Rights
Or the need for children to be educated
Give us a few million dollars first!
Then, we might be listen to you to your sermon
For a little while
But don't be disappointed
If we decide to  kill you
While you're trying to make your point!
All this Nonsense about "Humanitarianism"
Is for the Children of the Rich
To study abroad.
It isn't the type of Logic
That makes any sense out here in the Bush.
It's the Men with the most Firepower
Who Call the Shots out here!
This is no Hollywood Movie!
We just do what we need to do to survive.
Do you think that we really ENJOY
This way of Life?
We used to love raising vegetables
As well as keeping
Chickens and goats,
But the rains are infrequent nowadays.
Our  vegetables  wither and die,
And our herds simply starve.
It's a lot easier
To simply kidnap the President's Daughter,
And hold her for ransom
Than to bother with Agriculture.
It’s no big deal.
We just take the spoiled girl off her parent's hands
For awhile.
If we don't kidnap her
She’ll just demand a BMW from her Mom and Dad
As well as lots enough money
To be able to afford the College Tuition
What difference does it make
Whether SHE blackmails her parents
Or we do?
There are rumors that we like to gang-rape
Wealthy girls
But they aren't true.
This is just  Western Propaganda
That is used to brainwash people
So they won't
Take our Agenda seriously.
We don’t really do those sorts of things.
If this spoiled girl
Listens  to our side of the Story for a little while,
We know that she'll
Become our Advocate
Rather than consenting to be
Our Slave.
We aren't stupid people, you know?
We know how to make a good impression on  a young women.
We just focus directly on getting exactly what we want
Rather than conforming to a bunch of stupid,
Arbitrary rules
That were designed
To keep us impoverished and subservient.
All the people here in the Bush
Know that we're really the Ones
Who look  after them.
The so-called
“Real Government”
Doesn't actually administer this Area at all!
It's fallen into neglect.
We’re  the Saviors
Of this No Man's Land.
Sure, we use Terror to achieve our objectives.
That's what works out here.
People respond to Fear.
Human Beings  don't necessarily
Listen to reason.
We're not really “Terrorists".
That's a  word that was  made up
By the Wealthy,
Westernized Elites.
Terrorism is not an IDEOLOGY.
It's just the way we get things done!
While these Government officials
Go on Junkets
In  Paris, New York or Rome
And participate in Drunken Orgies
In Rio De Janeiro
And Bangkok.
We rule this area for them,
And  make it possible for them to do
Whatever  they want to do with their time
We "administer" this Area
So these  corrupt
Can go out and have some fun!
They should be grateful to us!
After all,
They don’t give really care about the people,
Out here in the Bush.
They just think,
"Let those maniacs rule the Bush!"
"If the Whites know that there is Terrorism in Nigeria,"
"They'll give us lots of  money."
"To help them"
"Fight their war!"
We're actually helping our
So-called "leaders
By ruling this No Man's Land!
Then, they can go  play golf
With President Donald Trump,
Whore around in Rio De Janeiro
Or do
Whatever the Hell they want to do.
"No tree, it is said, can grow to heaven unless its roots reach down to hell."

------Carl Jung
A view of the ocean
reminds me of relationships 
I watch the rocks either 
being kissed by the waters

ever so gently
again and again

Or the rocks being pounded 
into a form of submission 
by an insistent ocean

ever so violently 
again and again

The rocks never move
The ocean never gives up
And yet...the rocks erode ...over time
There's a lesson in there somewhere 
I'll ponder it later...maybe in a poem

I carry on with my walk under 
the hot summer sun
leaving rock and ocean 
relationships behind me.

©Vivian Zems
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