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Philomena Jun 22
I hate the way you can't put down a drink
And I hate the way your stupid mind tends to think
I hate watching the tears fall
Cause spilled milk isn't worth crying over at all
I hate the way you destroy me inside
And I hate the darkness you put behind my eyes
I hate the way you say it's my fault
Cause I'm not another follower to your cult
I hate the way you act like a *****
Cause I'm getting real tired of this
Tick, tick, tick, tick
the pallid fingers turn the ****
Tick, tick, tick, tick
deafened, by mournful cries of the mob
Tick, tock, tick, tock
determined action shifts the fob
Tick, tick, tick, tick
compose the numbers, release the lock

Tick
the gateway opens
Tock
His image fades
Tick
a soul, an ocean
Tock
they ready the blades
Tick
the skin is broken
Tock
eyes watch it bleed
Tick
this blemish, the sin
Tock
will never be clean


No gems outside
merely gold within
Let the program crash
and start again.
It's your journey; not the one they wish to write for you.
J Feb 9
Um...what?

Crazy is as crazy does
But this as cray as ever was.
I hope there be a method
To this madness
Else the system
Ends in sadness.
Risk in trying;
Risk in not;
I hope this truly be
The quest you sought.

Taking the leap -
It be not cheap -
But - oh the spoils
If you can not yet fold to foils.

Keep the faith;
Make us believe...
Only through acolytes
Can you succeed.
Leadership only works if people follow you.   Even when what you say sounds like blasphemy at first but is really for the greater good.  I prefer simple logic as the rhetoric to get people on board but as I was writing this it seems that in some cases very persuasive people can succeed without even that - hence the title “cult”.  Cults aren’t always bad right?
Victor D López Dec 2018
god is dead
he died of a bad review in The New York Times
that accused him of being
a fascist
and a *****

he is being replaced by a new
non-sectarian trinity
of
Me Myself and I
all of whom are
free
to **** god
and say
god is dead
god dead is
dead is god
is god dead

I think I have heard somebody suggest
(and therefore I have)
that the Department of Health is soon to issue
new and improved
antiexistentialistdespairpills
free of charge  
to every adult
man and woman
sitting in front
of his/her
TV/Smart Phone/Game Console/Computer
waiting for
godot
Slightly revised from the original in Of Pain and Ecstasy: Collected Poems
Outside Words Dec 2018
In the year 3131
They come to devour our suns
Terrible, godlike, interstellar giants
Inconceivable beyond all reason and science.

Humanity and all her colonies,
Divided amongst the galaxies,
Finally united once and for all
For our race dare not fall!

To eliminate the threat of annihilation
We constructed planet-sized stations
That house massive and powerful guns
To protect and defend our vulnerable suns.

As our fears vanished behind us
Those in control sought to rebind us
For systems of authority never change,
Not even with pervasive freedom in range.

With the powerful distracted by their lust,
For control over every speck of dust,
There emerged a demented cult
That believes our race is at fault,
And beings that come from above
Do so out of divine, parental love.

These naive and delusional zealots,
Inspired by avarice long embellished,
By a ruthless society lacking empathy,
Have developed an ever enduring apathy.

Seeking to destroy our only defenses,
They mount violent and ****** offensives,
Their rugged, disorderly fleets crucify
As humanity is unable to reunify.

However, there is another cooperative effort,
A last stand, self-organized endeavor,
This vigilante group battles cultist detestables
They call themselves The Solar Sentinels.

Bound by a principled, passionate collaboration,
The Solar Sentinels defend all people and nations,
Engineers and military minds come together
To ensure our survival and prosper, whatsoever.

Now, one existential question remains:
Will humanity break free of its chains,
Awaken, realize that we are all one,
Disregard old orders and save our suns?
© Outside Words
Luna D Oct 2018
They want me to come to them,
they miss me they say,
they’ll take care of me they say.
These ghosts try to bribe me with empty promises and voided checks.
An illusion of happiness and peace
if i only give up the life i’m currently living
and return to God
They have no idea how ive changed.
How clearly i can see now.
Lady justice might be blind
but i dont have to be,
impartial justice doesnt exist with ghosts, never has and it never will.
These ghosts no longer talk to me,
i’ve strayed to far off the narrow road. Shunned for wanting to live a life that is my own,
for wanting to love someone who is apart of the world.
For so many things that i have done
and that i continue to do
and none of them are even evil!
Not to the living at least.
The memories of the years i devoted haunt me.
I had tried so hard,
so very very hard to prove my worth.
To show them i could be a loyal follower of christ as well,
the ghosts didnt care,
it didnt matter how much i was struggling,
how close to the edge i was,
the traumas ive been through.
I didnt pray enough,
i didnt throw my burden solely upon god,
i didnt go out and preach the word of god enough
Instead i had turned to the world for help,
i had turned towards people who’s job was to help me not want to die,
to help me work through my problems.
I had turned my back on the ghosts.
And every-time i had tried to return to them
they only made it harder for me to get into paradise.
And after all they had done,
after being labeled a deserter
and being shunned,
i still miss them.
I sometimes still wish i could go back
Making the choice to leave the organization easy.
Not returning to God is the hard part.
In life with the ups & downs,
when the street lights come one, the gypises come out,
all my life, got told there’s something wrong with my mind
& it’s been written God doesn’t like ****,
so bought myself a gun, stay on my grind.
I joined the outsiders in exile, learnt street talk,
dwelled in mystery, looking onto history, as a tool,
wrapping myself around the present to ease the fear of the future,
Drinking red *** , roll me the blunt,
dived
into
success when I know how to self-validate.
Perhaps my
genes
are different
https://www.amazon.com.au/Inherent-Sin-Darcy-Prince-ebook/dp/B07FR5FW42/ref=sr12?ie=UTF8&qid=1538518619&sr=8-2&keywords=darcy+prince
Joe Oct 2018
He's a ****,
A deadly ***.
She is evil,
A skilled deceiver.
They're a cult,
The devil's salt.
But I'm most toxic,
I spread gossip.
Belle Gwilliam Sep 2018
Hello Pop,
You said you liked a good story.
I'm no good at tellen stories, coz you were always the one that told'em and I was always the one that listened but,
I got one now.

Not a nice one.
None'a that feel good **** you see on TV.
But, it's a story
and I owe you one.

It's about you,
the bits you missed,
and me:
the not so good for a so called 'good kid'.
Not that many called me that
But,
then you went and did.

Made me think I couldn't be so bad.

Yet here I am.

Throwin stone's when I've got no one to hit.
Too bored to eat or sleep, just fucken spit.
Wishen that great god gave me someone to hit.

I'm a sick girl, ya know.
That's what they tell me.

Sick compared to those straight kids -
the pride of Glory Spring.
"Glory to God!" they all fucken sing
and even me who can’t speak good
can still recite that invisible,
unbearable
ditsy
dimpled
****.
He was your favourite story and everyone elses, after all.
Vicar Roy made sure of that.

Vicar Roy.
With his crinkly eyes
his toothy grin
the way he wouldn't blink when you challenged him.
God while god was hiding from the mess he made,
but God was doin’ nothen for me.
Ma saw that before you could.
She wanted me out,
She wanted me taken to a real city so they could study my head,
the way it worked.
The way my words never came
just a crooked grin.
But, even when the crayons became weapons
and the kittens went missen
The Vicar went and blessed me the same way.

Glory Spring, with its neat little rows of cottages and cabbage gardens,
so evenly cut.
Soft colours,
bright greens.
So good,
good,
good.
Then I came along.
Rabid,
urban wild
itchen for a stomach slit
goin' "Guts for you"
after "Treat or trick?"
setten haystacks on fire
tryen to find the pin
only to drop it on purpose.

Are you scared of me, Pa?
I think even God is scared of what he created.
That's why we never see him,
but I'm here now Pa.
You can't hide from me
and I gotta story of why you don't gotta no more.
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