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Utterly Forgotten
They set out to make a man like you make a car in a factory
It was a production process starting at step one till the end
When you’re left with the finished product and the job is done
Step by step following instructions and designs and plans
Not missing a single bit or doing it in the wrong order
To look at the completed man you would be amazed
That he was made in a factory by human hands and minds
And not from some mother’s belly like normal humans
With the right tools factory and plans you can build anything
Including a human as this example shows standing before us
He can walk talk speak run jump dance clap eat drink **** and ****
Just like we can in whatever order is needed maybe even all together
But the man isn’t perfect just like we are flawed and imprecise creatures
He’s moody for no reason destructive for the Hell of it and stupidly fights
His bad language is terrible every third word a swear or curse
If he doesn’t get his own way he spits his dummy out and tantrums
He tells lies to everybody and some seem like the truth till revealed
Did we make this man this way on purpose to be an *******?
Just like your brother or friend or wife is the same type ****
Not caring about our feelings or his respect or where he is
Ridiculing all and everything even those who made him
Did we break the mould producing this individual human?
Do we eradicate him and start anew to lose the bad point
So we have an ideal male with no urge to swear fight lie
Or **** hurt injure burn smash crush ruin destroy till all is gone
We want one who smiles laughs loves jokes cares helps
I think we must start again and make an improved model
The physical body is fine but what’s inside is very suspect
Something important is broken and need completely replacing
If the next model fails and is broken we’ll make a dog instead
The first one will be killed and recycled then utterly forgotten
A flawed human male made in a secret factory plausible deniability
Aydin Ilhan May 2020
Four men from the break of dawn
With axe, hacksaw and *****,
Back and forth swaying their head,
And with their mighty brawn
Were hacking down a giant factory
That took small space on earth
Nurtured by air, water, soil from its birth,
Finally it was razed with great victory.
It was a factory which produced oxygen
That could not be gauged by men.
It provided food and shelter
To many creatures without ever to falter.
Without asking for anyone's labour
To them it did unconditional favour.

After a few days came there many men
To build another giant factory again.
They with great vigour cleared the sod
Built a factory with bricks and iron rod.
It was a factory that took over large area,
Workers feared diseases in their trachea
For it ceaselessly vomited black smoke;
By its noise neighbours to their horror awoke.
In his head
A small factory
Producing
Packages of wisdom
Personnel
Cooperating
With unprecedented brilliance
The observers
The processors
The creators
All contributing
To a brand new theory
Unfortunately
The packages
Won’t be sent
The fear
Of incompleteness
Interfering with development

Oh logician
If the world could only
Feel
Your passion
Behold
Your creativity
Your theories
Would dominate the world
To all the logicians and their genius theories
Julia Apr 2020
Glorious amounts of melted chocolate
swirling swirling swirling

Globular deposits onto sliding sheets
shining shining shining

Guttural phonetics of the gooey frenzy
smacking smacking smacking

Let loose a symphony
Let fall the curtain
Intake the stimuli
Real is uncertain

Your mind is a toy
Inside folded parchment paper
That once it's unwrapped
You can never reglue
2016
nick armbrister Dec 2019
The factory was a dual role one
It was a great division of labour
And of resources making double the profit

On a Monday it made polonium
And on a Tuesday it made baby milk
And on a Wednesday it made anthrax
And on a Thursday it made flour
And on a Friday it made cyanide
And on a Saturday it made sugar
And on a Sunday it made strychnine

This was a factory of war and peace
It depended on the day
It was worked in three shifts
7 days a week
365 days a year
Feeding nation’s civilians
And poisoning the enemies
from Side of the Hill – Varied Poems...  Nick Armbrister
Carl D'Souza Jul 2019
I just watched a mini-documentary
on pig factory farming using
extreme confinement of individual pigs
in ‘gestation crates’:
I saw each poor pig
trapped within metal box-grates
which pressed against their flesh
stopping the pig from turning around
stopping the pig from walking around,
each pig suffers their whole life
standing in one direction
or slumped down on the ***** floor.
I saw pigs with open wounds, pressure sores, infections,
bleeding gums from biting the metal bars.
I saw pigs screaming in distress
Or suffering slumped down depressed.
I saw trapped pigs going mad
banging on the metal grates
distressedly trying to break free
and failing and slumping down depressed.

I ask myself
is there a humane way
to farm animals?
Such as free-range farming?
Salmabanu Hatim Apr 2019
A baker on our street could not bake,
He could only fish in the nearby rivers and lake,
Mum bought his bakery,
He bought our old fish factory,
Both are happy for God's sake.
28/4/2019
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
When I first passed the gates
into the metallic garden
stamping out seeds
                      for the junkyard
with its infinite cardiac output

I gazed upon the eyes of the creatures
that inhabited this oily soil
                            of steel and chemicals
all I saw was a cry for help
to escape
          to be away
                just one day
they cry, just one day

I got caught in the claws
and it scratched
                       and scratched
the wounds heal but the scars stay

I have become a trapped animal
                                     with eyes of dismay

There's little chance of escape
I can dream
           I can pray
one day, I echo
               one day

Now I am just taxidermy
for this godforsaken industry
and they call this
quality.
J May 2018
Brown, peeling rubber soles on big feet
Crunch crunch, the gravel and glass goes underfoot
The overcast gloom of the early morning.
Depressed and downhearted buildings lining the streets.
Weeds encircling the gardens like a dragon looming over its prey.
Flowers hanging their heads, gravely.

Smudged faces, dark purple eyes, gaunt complexion, another restless night for these children.
Bruises up and down each leg.
Trodden, broken. “Not good enough” ringing in their ears.
Dreary faces, ripped uniforms.

The school building silhouetted against the grey, emotionless sky.
“Line up in rows, nice and neat”
They would hear this repeated for the rest of their lives.
A zebra crossing worn and battered.

Cigarettes passed from frail, wrinkled, hopeless hands.
Hooked on 4 a day at the age of 13
The wind groaned through the yard.
Somber faces, with wide eyes awaiting an education.

Pale arms and legs bristling in the playground.
Teachers thinking the sun has set on their dreams.
The corporations rubbing their hands, stamping their boots.
Another day at school now, but do they have a future?
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