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Jackson Cavalier Jul 2017
Wander worried rambler roam.
Wander down the path of a riverside wood.
Step by step,
Shuffle to and fro.
A Forgotten industry remains.
Man made mines,
Dug out quarries,
Fencing, barbed wire, power lines, and pressure treated wooden poles.
Littering the landscape.
A blood letting favor, favored low.

A hydroelectric dam.

Murky and historical waters enter its mouth,
and then,
exit from its other side.
Constantly *******, and spitting, and churning turbine whine,
Spinning gear stuck,
clamped to the spine.
Luck may have it that these waters may never go dry.
Luck may have it that these currents stay 'live.
Merrily manic, it flows.
Strong and bold,
sparkle, sprung, sold!
Pushes and rolls,
gives and goes.
Cold.
Electric mother glow.

Neon, argon, blazing blast,
to give city speckled lights a mast.
A grip to grasp, to squeeze, to cast,
shadows in the night.
Yellow, orange, red, and blue,
the shades of dreamers,
with their sorrows leaded, heavy,
holy truths.
Unspoken tomorrows, last goodbyes,
mouthed silently at last
in their heads a film score out of time.

The air is baked, the land is spry.
The sun is shattered through prism pines.
I carry myself upon the leaves, of dead footsteps, make believe.
Native footpaths of long ago
and red sandstone trail of men to behold.
Come to this place and let sights be known,
Come to this place and let sights be known,
histories of ours, histories bygone.
Hiking thoughts put into words. The Red Sandstone Trail is a trail that follows along the Raquette River. The trail-head is located in Colton, NY. The hike is one of historical nature. Many remnants of business and industry remain abandoned along the riverside. A picturesque picture painted by the clash of man made industry, and the awesomeness of nature.
Apachi Ram Fatal Jun 2017
interfere journey body sweaty mastermind dust
dummy\
inhale shale bond reason oxidize crummy
read write swell\
ready curve encrypt slime minus shell heady set
flow sacrifice\
believe alter oceanic shelf killing part of Hell split Earth lent
mayhem vent\
outspent wipe well being clean provoke Cain uphold Able
mean mug\
dump cornmeal unicorn convulsing mend restitution advertently
spiel indent\
hand over to pilot retribution intend empty zeal rummage
destitution\
Hasidic inside the writ spirit fly guide escape unravel ways of
savage\
lives out the side Pegasus soar glide abide Nein but fine rhyme
hymns\
Clarity of KMFDM
Kevin Apr 2017
cauliflower balloons inflate from chemically altered exhaust.
upon deflation, they release clarification; they retain alterations.
cooked from breathing deep, bruised of industrial abuse,
cauliflower balloons are served to us with scents of rancid meat.

we are not unfamiliar to the machines of degradation.
appreciation is passed at the table alongside salt and gravy.
we are our makers and creators, not in need of names or forms.
we are not unfamiliar to ourselves but our ignorance blinds our lungs.

inflators of the inflated fill our plates to serve themselves,
forgetting somehow, who it is that will somehow serve their will.
deflators remain the servants, eventually becoming the served
remember to hold your breath because it is all you have.
this is about air quality. industries are allowed to produce an insane amount of airborne toxins that fall within government regulations, however, the effects on humanity and the general environment lay immeasurable by design so as to allow economic stability. i'd rather we have a healthy population and environment than a big house and healthy bank account.
Crystal June Jun 2016
And I'm here in this little glass house,
On display for the robots next-door --
The last of human life
Trapped in a box with translucent locks
In this paradisiacal paradox.

The suburbs are where dreams go to die.
Look at that cool-guy dad of three
With a car from 1970
Who doesn't get a wink of sleep,
And for dinner he eats batteries.

He wasn't supposed to be like this,
Spending more time with his therapist
Than with his mechanizing kids.

Love is sending them as far away as possible
Before they're condemned to your same tragic fate.

Their precious internal organs are slowly being swapped and traded with engine parts,
So that their chests hum rather than beat --
And wheels are used more often than feet.

Extension cords for intestines
And oil for blood,
Plug them in to sleep at night
So that they may be fully charged and operational tomorrow.

They are constantly being programmed in the greatest form of mass production known to man.
(Well, what's left of him.)

Cookie cutter children with magnetic hands,
Always grabbing and attracting new parts to attach to themselves.
Chewing microchips like bubblegum,
Transferring data as a form of fun.

It's "cool-guy dad 2.0."
He's outdated now,
Useless apart from nurturing the new generation that will ultimately cause his demise.

Oh, what a time to be alive.
To be a human on display in an industrial neighborhood.
(And don't even get me started on the soccer moms.)
The suburbs get to me sometimes (a.k.a. all the time).
Luna Craft Mar 2016
This industrial silence fills the room
It came from the gears in my throat
The press that carved my serial number into the back of my neck
It tasted like metal
From the iron gated assembly line that we all hold standards to
Of living and dying and repeating
Again and again
Assembled with little care, defects thrown away
Silent voices
We did not make them ourselves
They were made to be shoved down our throats
Until we die from lead poisoning
How unprepared I was when midnight approached me by
Emission of vivid green neon lights
From the futuristic skyscrapers to my unworldly eyes
But more imposing
A suspended meteor in the sky
Upon the decrepit city which never stood
My arrival at Midnight City, my peculiar neighborhood
Thumping tracks and frantic sirens
Bombard tremendous fear in my senses
Amid the resonating pantomime that cracks throughout my head
Merciless cyborgs arrive from nowhere
And threaten mankind with unthinkable weapons
Their bleak empty eyes bring dogmatic order
As my escalated fears enslave me well
Inside the mechanical serpent that darts
With endless slick demented rails
On such a twisted mind, it begins to run
Confused and addled, I have no control of this matter
Only worries dwell my mind
The arrival of this mysterious force is my greatest baffle
Does this herald the degeneration of Gaia?
What is this complex machinery that enslaves all men?
Where does this designate human posterity and fate?
What was done for an act of retribution?
Does this unprecedented apocalypse null all human solutions?

In this dark tunnel, on a decrepit couch
The dauntless train begins to screech with endless laughter
As it tears tempestuously faster and faster
Until all unearthly fluorescent lights blend together
Thumping tracks and frantic sirens
Eighty-six notches louder
Alternating flashes of red and green
Fourteen seconds prior
A silhouette of a white demon projects from afar
As it begins to approach us, its image ever becomes so bizarre
Add a second of suspended silence of jest
Before we scream and ensue
The fatal crash
This poem is based on an epic nightmare I had years ago.

John Archievald Gotera © 2012 - 2015
Sultan Grimoire May 2015
Timber whispers seep from hollow.
Oaken chasms, seasoned skin.

Sapling pines strain sap from time.
The kind to mend a fractured wind.

Of splintered veins weep pores of swallowed.
Sweetened aid ties supple limbs.

A figure full from height and borrowed.
Halves of state that harbor this.

---

Portions know a sterile singe.
A taking for our grip.

The backs of knives carve parting lines.
Flooded by the pigments lips.

From fluttered steel barks cutting edge.
Teeth to weave a stuttered stitch.

By hand we'll take what's ours to see.
A fingers length of measured tip.
Leal Knowone Jan 2015
lobotomized, lost soul.
torn across fields of ****** death
death breaks,
feelings left wounded and paralyzed
now there is no vision in these eyes
life's germ invades healthy brain
and  done with no refrain
moment thrown into society
degradation moral decay,
generate the lies you create.
truth is lost its to late,
forever stuck forever stuck
we all decay
emotional derogation, and mental erosion
Castle of sin
Leal Knowone Feb 2015
the mirror of the soul is broken,
spilling out a river forever flowing,
as eternal agony soaks in ,
I can't control were the gears are going.
Is my valued machine broken?
Can it be repaired by you ?
Can it be rust free again, in a world were all is painted blue?                                                       Who would have thought the igniter,
would become the cause of the stole?
Causing us to be fighters
but when does it all get old?

LOOKING GLASS

Broken mirrors, this floors so cold and wet.
All is shattered and ripped apart.
Look into the mirror don't forget.
Look to find a slow beating heart.

Cold yet beating it isn't dead!

LOOKING GLASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

7 years bad luck roll over.
A black cat that was once loved,
now has gone over the shoulder.
Question this the loved.

LOOKING GLASS

It all changes and circles,
like the gears to the machine,
watched over by it workers,
but there's piercing laser beams.

Forever grow, river flow, broken souls, sanity goes, the lost soul different highs, different lows,different eyes, visions unknown.

LOOKING GLASS, LOOKING IN
LOOKING GLASS, LOOKING IN

Never know, true control, societies soul, vanity goes, the lost notes
different thoughts, indifference lost, so its fine, vision unknown.

LOOKING GLASS, LOOKING IN
LOOKING GLASS, LOOKING IN

Did you break the mirror too?
Will it bring about misfortune,
our colorful different hues ?
When did this destruction begin?
Rivers flow into the ocean.
The water construct and destroy.
Beginning of the end, beginning again.
The mirror of the soul is broken.
SPILLING, KILLING
looking glass, LOOKING IN

The mirror of the soul is broken.
Spilling out a river ever flowing.
I'm letting it all soak in.
Is this vile machine broken?

looking glass, LOOKING GLASS, looking glass, LOOKING GLASS!!!!!!!!!!!
The blackened mirror can still see into you
Castle Of Sin
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