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Poetic T Oct 8
Idiots shouldn't play
with matches
                cos they washed in petrol...


But I'm no idiot,
            but I'll still throw a match

in the room and watch the idiots burn.
troublingly, when they’re talking,
it’s usually not in my direction
and I rather like that a lot
but when it is directed at me
it’s usually nothing profound.

unaccountably, I have a lack
of response towards soulless
creatures who have zombified
their vitality

they’ve exhausted their inventiveness
opted out to conformity
over-welcomed their stay
and burnt out their last match

the apex of their days is the
sandwich they’ll have for lunch,
the power mower they ride on
in the Saturday afternoon heat,
the motor oil they use for their car,
the purchases they’ve made online
with free shipping and handling

and it’s no wonder I’ve undergone
a number of ways to elude their
temperament

making no eye contact
keeping my head down
walking really fast and
pretending to be busy

but the more you avoid them,
the more attracted they are to you

their castrated lives their wives envisioned
are so flavorless like taking a bite out of
an aspirin and they think their persistence
is stunning when it’s nothing more than
relentless and wearisome

I look out the window
feeling trapped
the day is out there
life is out there
not much life
but enough to
take a chance

and very few have the courage
to let go and break free

the little white spider crawling
up my windshield has more
courage, character, charisma
than I or the half-bred egrets
I encounter with on the daily

who knew these assortment
of words arranged in a
peculiar way would give
me the courage to go this far?

but how much further
am I willing to go?

when the world feels like a rope
you’re dangling from above
the swampland of futility
and the imbeciles circle
below like crocodiles
ready to lunge up
and snap at your
insides

I hear their idiot laughter
and their footsteps
working towards
me now

as the door closes slowly
and the light narrows
paper thin-like into
the windowless dark.

I cringe and
wait for it
to end.
Starry Aug 26
Poor little Suzy
Going around calling people
Derogatory medical terms
For fun
Don't you know that
Makes more enemies
Than making more friends.
Beautify yourself with
Silence.
two lines
is not a poem
its two lines
it has no substance
no structure
its a thought
someone caught
is it noteworthy
not in the least
but the person
who writes without
themselves
there not present
here in the moment
of all the people who do such
who think it only takes that much
should give your head a wobble
it's just a load of cobble  
the two lines are just that
like a load of tatt
truly
poetry comes from a calling
a memory
a feeling
is nothing dust blowing in the breeze
you make a mockery of the art
like you just would ****
all over your page
not bleed at any stage
is it because your simply
not smart enough
to have a worthy entry
dig deeper into your soul
if you lack the talent
of this simple art
pray tell
are you worth more than
a **** ?
if you throw art away
thinking you can walk away
then i have this to say
your not an artist
your stuck in self pity
look in the mirror and think
where did you go
or did you just blink
those two lines
bug me more than
any times
i've seen anything else
are your not incapable
or simply not know how
i think you just don't give
the art the respect it so needs
look at yourself
a poem
is not two lines
a thought
a passing
a nothing
this is not your diary
find somewhere else to share
because i for one care
you lay the art bare
more effort should be found
if your words are to be sound.
You wanted words?
Well here you go!
So watch what you're spreading,
Take care what you sow-
Because some of us aren't willing
To take a knee in your crap;
Some of us have worked hard
To be where we're at.
And I hope you get behind that-
Change your ways, make it right;
Because I won't be here the next time
To listen to your tripe.
After all,
I don't know you,
But you tried slander on for size;
Buried my morning
Under a mountain of lies.
I've had enough!
And I think it's high time
To make a decision,
to make up your mind-
About what kind of person
You d rather be-
The kind who grows up?
Or the ******* I see?
I wish you the worst,
There was no reason for this!
Unless, by a miracle,
There's something I missed-
Like a problem you had,
That you've said nothing about-
Some stupid concerns
That you can't even spit out?
Really,
It's not my problem.
I really don't care,
What you do with that black soul
And head full of air.
All I know is I'm ANGRY!
All I feel is DESPAIR.
And if you're going to hell,
Well,
I won't see you there.
Toxic yeti Mar 26
As the idiot
Eats and swallows the
Poppy flower
So long ago.  
Did he know
That his stupidity
Opened a new world.
SMS Feb 4
She’s living on those water bottles
And that pack of Extra gum
She’s long forgotten how to use
The tastebuds dotting her tongue
How can you blame her broken soul
For craving her old favorites taste
For those few seconds she’s not in control
Before the food goes to complete waste.
To the idiot that thinks anorexics are sick for spitting out food and questions why they taste it in the first place.
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