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Ira Desmond Apr 8
Capitalism will draw
and quarter you. Capitalism
will stretch your cells,
like saltwater taffy
until their membranes tear apart.
Capitalism will seek
to extract as much profit as it can
from your aging body,
and then, after it’s had
its way with you, Capitalism will do
the same thing to your children’s bodies.

Capitalism will tell you
to treat yourself to
a hundred-dollar Waygu beef
burger with gold leaf and
a perfectly fried egg on top
(along with a piece of New York
cheesecake for dessert),

and Capitalism will tell you
that your body is hideous,
shameful. Go to the gym
already and fix your
disgusting fat thighs. And do
something about
those stretch marks
from your latest pregnancy.
How could you
allow yourself to look like that?
And why not try these slimming
garments to hide your
cellulite?

Capitalism will tell you
that you’re beautiful just the way you are.
It will show you unphotoshopped ads
with curvy women wearing no makeup
and smiling, confident and empowered,
while it whispers in your ear
about how woke it’s become.

And Capitalism will tell you
that actually
your **** and *** big aren’t big enough.
Why don’t you look like a Kardashian, and
why can I still see your pores?
The way you’re doing your
eyebrows is so last year, and
how are you ever going to meet
the right man
with that basic ***** wardrobe?

Capitalism will tell you it’s time
to start a family. In fact,
time is running out
for you to start a family.
(Tick-tock tick-tock.)
It will show you
pictures of smiling babies, swaddled safely
in warm cribs.
(Tick-tock tick-tock.)
It will show you
images of storks wearing delivery caps
and white two-story houses
in well-to-do suburbs
where everyone has a nice job,
and the schools are good,
and they still get together for block parties
and barbecues every year
on the Fourth of July.
(Tick-tock.)

And Capitalism will tell you
that actually now’s not the time
to start a family,
that you need to
work hard to be successful, and, really,
you should be willing to commute
a few hours each day
if the job is worth it.
Capitalism will tell you
that nobody gets ahead without
hard work
(an outright lie),
that everybody else is working harder
than you are
(another outright lie),
and that you need to have a side hustle
if you want to keep the pace
(another outright lie).

And Capitalism will also tell you
that you need a vacation
or else you’ll burn out.
Capitalism will tell you that
your vacation needs to be epic,
the trip of a lifetime,
deeply Instagrammable,
or you’ll have done it all wrong.
Capitalism will tell you
that you should spend extra
to stay in that luxury over-ocean villa
in Bora Bora, and if
you don’t stay in that luxury
over-ocean villa in Bora Bora, then
you must not be working hard enough,
you must not be
one of the worthy ones.

Capitalism will tell you
to stay informed, always,
about what’s happening in the news
because keeping up with the news
is important for educated citizens
like you and me.
Capitalism will tell you to keep following the news,
to keep reading Twitter to the point
where you’re anxiously,
repeatedly pulling down
to refresh,
waiting for the UI to refresh itself,
fixated, always
waiting for the Tweets to refresh
themselves.

And then Capitalism will tell you
that actually you need to be medicated,
because the problem is you here
and really you’re way too anxious,
and life is too short, and
you deserve to be well, don’t you?
Capitalism will prescribe you
drugs to enhance
the other drugs it’s prescribed you already
(Abilify®)
and then give you more drugs to combat
the side effects
of your other drugs
(Lucemyra™)
and then it will sell you more drugs
to reverse any overdoses on
your other drugs
that you might end up having
(Narcan®).

Capitalism will tell you
to do everything you do
as hard as you can possibly do it,
because Capitalism is
at its very core
a glutton
and a sadist.

But one thing that Capitalism
will never tell you to do
is this:

Climb, naked,
to the top of a verdant
hill
in late spring
on the night of a full
moon.
Do not howl
at the moon.
Instead,
breathe deeply.
Place yourself
in the fetal
position
amongst the coarse
sage and grasses,
allowing
their branches and blades to scratch
your skin,
while the centipedes
emerge from the dirt,
and slither over your body
and the crickets
sing
and the mist
of your dead forebears
washes over you
and communes with you,
laying bare
those unquantifiable truths
that Capitalism has never known,
and will never know,
and will therefore never reveal to anyone.
While exposed
in this fashion,
realize that the whole of this Earth, too,
is exposed, naked, fetal—
every bit
as alive and as vulnerable as you are.

Capitalism will draw and quarter the both of you.
mourning echo of despair,
I am alive but not in vain,
your hopeless touch of deaths of joy,
your wealth of thought, your tempting lure,
I am but graciousness and pain,
this is a wealth of deaths upon a death,
a purple substance of the paralysed veins,
a storm of flames up in the luring infinite,
the face of sacred, the embedded truth,
a love of demons and despair,
suffocated in the fragrance rain,
deep in the breath of time’s sexuality,
a murdered youth in luxury,
a hopeless, faint, exquisite memory,
the burning oceans in the pure dark,
the touch of lust, hypnotic mystery,
a breath so freezing on the mind,
the death’s alive and kills and reigns.
Poem from my book 'The Allure Of Time' now available on amazon.
don't be sad for the one who didn't love you back,
love is never lost,
head up and move on,
your being will reach the luxury of time.
My book 'The Allure Of Time' is available on amazon.
I am the Goddess Of The Divine and fragrance of the night,
on my lip whirling waterfalls of love to strive,
the shadow window beats in jar bells,
my being is the art of the divine,
for I loved you since the first day,
and that was my only love on earth,
but you were scared of your religious background,
scared of what the society might think about us.
rgz Mar 4
I want to take you somewhere
Somewhere you've never been

I want to show you something
Something you've never seen

We should take our time here
There's a lot to see

I want to show you something
Something you won't believe


I want to tell you something
Something you need to hear

Whispers spill like honey
From my tongue to your ear

Heavy with sweetness
Senses disappear


Would you let me inside
Inside to roam your halls

Feel you race as I run
Fingers spread on the wall

Are you coming with me
Down to the final scene

I want to take you somewhere
Somewhere you've never been
;)
There may be those who have more than you
However only in material value
They might possess a bigger bank balance
Drive a better car
Live in a luxury mansion adorned in splendour
Wear attire bearing famous names
But they will never be as free as you
Even if you were a bird in a cage
You'd still be freer than they are
Because you hold freedom of mind
Written by Sean Achilleos 24 January 2019©
www.facebook.com/SeanAchilleosOfficial/
Sean Achilleos' Music is available on the following platforms:
Amazon, Apple Music, iTunes, Deezer, Google Play, Pandora, Saavn, SoundCloud, Spotify, Tidal, YouTube, Jango Radio, Nicovideo (Japan), IQIYI (China) and YOUKU (China)

Sean Achilleos' Book 'An Affair with Life' is obtainable from the following platforms:
Smashwords, Amazon, Wordery, Kobo, Exclusive Books, Takealot, HelloPoetry, Loot, Overdrive, Bokus, Barnes and Noble
humans are complex beings
they can talk,
they can make tools,
and they can do just about
whatever they want
but they are born into a world
of luxuries and disappointments
This is my very first poem I ever wrote. It is dated to 2008, I was 10 years old.
Alaina Moore Dec 2018
I am so afraid of becoming White Collar Micheal.
He likes to act like his life is so hopelessly blightful, because his name is White Collar Micheal.
On the weekend, he throws on a tie-dye.
Goes from Business Man, to Mr. Nice Guy?
Deep down you know it's a facade, aka,
Your big life's a big lie.  
He does so many uppers you may as well call it the tweekend.
He fills his mind with illusions of grandeur.
I look at him and think "you need to be a man first."
Instead of filling my head with candy and dreams, I face my demons.
And it's utterly delightful because I know I will never become a
White Collar Micheal.
Full disclosure, I didn't write this poem. It was written by my Husband - still working on a pen name.
Arcassin B Sep 2018
By Arcassin Burnham

Gotta wipe off the seat , sanitation is key,
Squeaky clean future if you make it soon,
Skipping that class in the bathroom,
Be on the phone in the bathroom,
Taking those pills in the bathroom,
Ladies look good in the bathroom,
Not that I spy on the girls room,
Teenagers have *** in the bathroom,
Pick on other kids in the bathroom,
Gather bearings in the bathroom,

Gotta wipe off the seat , sanitation is key,
Squeaky clean future if you make it soon,
Treasures , treasures , they fill the hearts of these people,
Disguised as greed,
It never ends , there are still more sequels,
Pushing and pulling emotions and boundaries,
Can't be weak in this world ,set in every country,
**** on the government in the bathroom.
©abpoetry2018


http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2018/09/bathroom.html
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