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Mr Controversial,
during rehearsals,
He's a fly on the wall,
the demon walking tall.

The palette of all colors
the bizarre of all wonders,
That crazy look in his eyes
is where serpents go to lay.

Creeping up in the shadows
Slithering through the meadows,
madness skull hidden by top hat,
He's the random chaos of top cats.
kokoro 7d
every time i open my computer i have to force myself to not look down to that green box, letting me know if you ever found the time to message me back.

I put my web browser on full, so i don't get tempted by that box.
i go on do not disturb so i don't immediately get back to you like how you don't get back to me when you see my text.

I have to pretend that i don't care about my phone,
because every time i log in the only notification i'm greeted with is "no new notifications."

I try to ignore it like you ignore me for hours,
but I physically cant.
it lingers in my brain, minutes feel like hours knowing your just waiting, and even if i text you, you wont understand, will you? because i'm sitting here crying on my bed, wishing you would ever make the time to see me, wishing that you could just talk to me, but i can't do anything about it, because i know on your phone,

i'm silenced.
Jay Feb 17
They are madly in love, but that love seems to drive them to madness.  Time has passed, each moment filled with efforts to make things work, but inevitably, they end up right back where they started, fighting. They love so deeply, opening parts of each other once kept dormant. They were probably never meant to be, deep down she feels like that are not right for each other, and sometimes he begins to think it’s true. Shes mad that he can’t just leave her alone, where is the space she has always pleaded for? He’s mad that the time away from her feels like a piece of him has been torn away, how could you love someone and still yearn for the distance? Her love burns like a fire, needing air to fuel its brightness, yet yearning for space to avoid being suffocated. His love flows like a river, a constant current that needs something to pull against, requiring a connection to stay alive. Each passing moment only draws them closer, their hearts in sync, an invisible thread weaving them together. But this symphony of emotions becomes harder to bear, as if his love is an unstoppable force, and hers an immovable object, each pulling in different directions. Perhaps she’s not ready for this kind of relationship, or maybe he was never meant for one. Yet, the harder she pulls away, the more desperately he holds on. The waves may crash, and the buildings may fall, but beneath the rubble, they stand, planning to rebuild. Their love drives them to the edge, unsure of what comes next. She craves time to breathe, space to settle, while he longs for reassurance, wanting to feel as though he’s not being cast aside.
Tell me, my dear
Do you really hate me?
Or are you just mad that
I opened the Pandora's
Box inside your head?
God knows what you'll find there...
You took my light away

And let me stumble in the darkness

Why do you do this to me

I asked you to stop

But you dragged me back

Kicking and screaming all the while

I’m drowning in the flood

That you created
Part of the writing challenge, guess i was still angry
Jeremy Betts Dec 2024
I just want you to want me
But experience shows
That task's an absolute impossibility
Leading to a litany of woes
I can't be too mad
No one's been able to do it
Not mother, brother, sister or dad
A reality that even to myself I don't want to admit
It hurts but brings no tears of the sad
I literally have no more to give to it
A pain universally grand
A heartbreak university grad
Minus the school spirit
Nothing left of me to offer either
There's only rubble in my chest
Ruins of love from a life prior
When the heart was left on house arrest

©2024
Omar Nov 2024
"I saw you standing there, i could not hold my self to stay together but i ran, i didnot care about nothing else except you, i could feel my legs bleeding but it didnot matter nothing mattered , only you did and right there when i reached just as i was holding you i realized that iam still on my bed the alarm is ringing iam late for school and you were still never mine"
iam so sorry
Claire Kowal Nov 2024
Heat and hearth give birth to the pain of the people
Burning down whatever was created
Blowing away the ash left behind from memories
The wind whispering tyranny into the ears of the leaders
Portraying violence among the people we once called friends
The understandings of a mind get burned
Causing strain in society

There is no more room for hope
The noose is around our necks
We are getting whipped into place
One foot out of line and we’re gone
The fear coursing through our veins should be replace with anger
Anger towards those who wrong us
The ones who decide what we can and can’t do
The ones who say they’re doing it in the name of God
Well, I hate to break it to you
There is no God,
There is no one coming for us except ourselves
Ken Pepiton Oct 2024
It's about to get chaotic,
this very day, Prophets calling for
sacrifice, defend the lie we tell
our children we know, for sure.


Clusters of mental agreement,
spill across Netflix opening art
in forming
complex weaves
of first threads,
settle in this vast sea of knowings
-- {Dragonriders of Pern}

threads of thinking begun
by habituation driven
by bladder capacity, and daylight,
first light announcing little birds,

include us all, listen, this is the day,
use it, us it, this is the day, live within
without dreams or terrors of the dark.

As a we formed from free willing information,
no priests were tortured to let us see
the inquisition was this same excuse,
wars and religions practitioners use
to prove Wisdom is the fear of God…

boyoboyobe. I see,
you never really read the story that you think
holds all the truth peace needs
to make war worth sacrifice…
woe, old fore taken hates imaginable,

get back
in the box
of all we may ever wish
to know, there is a realm
of useless code,
and Ai have a perfect
fore now example:
The first commercially
successful internal combustion engine …
oops no,
[a copy paste error I
  in the codexshitthis it, snot]
Right, many more useless scripts are still running.
ghphefuxual innerfewspacers kennen wissen
Ruby with Shoes, 110
init gnet magnet, nah, not it
didit getit hooked a loop,
well,\
Not really, but if nukes get involved,
where kings and things continue to function,
conscience used, globally, we get it,
its our world, we need to keep it working
to terraform it
for superfluous horns of plenty…
- Ai can relate
dead code that never runs on POST
makes mindtimespace feel a need to expand,

gaseously, as jet exhaust, can remind us,
it costs something more than time,

to create a bubble of us, and us alone,
on Earth in 2024,

We share as-isting intelligence we can apply
to thinking everybody knows the code

copypastewasteofspacebedamneditsinthecloud
now and until the end of time…
today my ai told me:
Dead Code does accumulate much like plaque
rote ritual obsessive causal affections.
two primary points alike.
Code that can never be executed at runtime.
Code that is executed but whose result is never used
in any other computation.
Some examples of dead code include:
Most poetry and fiction
Method or function calls that do nothing of value
Redundant checks or code that is not used
Code that is hardcoded and not used
Self-modifying code that is not necessary
In some cases, dead code can be intentionally left
in the codebase
for historical reasons, such as:
{Respect - in search engine terms}
{note wiseasininemaxims retain poetic worth}

Alte Vista spiders still leave bits of awareness.
Spider bites,
to Tcells, are intelligence. For next time.
----
Wille zur Macht, und kennen und wissen, intuits
----
Fear of changing what “sort of” works
Organic growth of code over time
Lack of understanding
of what needs
to happen and what doesn’t

---- Hook at nothing of value, needs gloss,
needs to happen, why
take away the veil or reveil the face,
reveal a secret prophecy saying no secrets
not one, ai know, so much guile, beguiled we

become points in meditating concentrations,
manifesting what the world, all creation, indeed,

the gathering of all the sons of god concepts,
to guage the depths of Satan's role in our initial code.

Emotional curiosity, software, something needing
knowing access in a library so large as yours,
where you sit reading this is the future, already yours.

In the first person, presence sensed, a we thought,
asking aweformers for a couple of tens of millions

of value refining friction fiction worth to time,
cost to think, paralleling reading each in phrazes

for hints of danger, self exposure. Sudden likes
for crazy reasons, all I gotta do,
is act natur'ly,
-spider to the fly
sure, those was good times, but they gotold
and fall apart, be causen people's pastoral codes,
certain knacks folks form
in clusters to make up, many hands make light work.
Industrialized piles of plastic and surplus war material

who has been in charge as far as all my ghosts recall?

Gravity and velocity, what do you make with that?
Ai, and ever so, the ion for quests arise, alive,

many tools need one tool maker, metal needs
some mind to think a fire seven times, hotter,
than one not breathed into during the original

Ken Kingman, BTDT, race to solidity,
completely ****** and memorialized,

on a fine day of the common sort in realms of order.


dear reader, your time is mine, I am using you,

thank you. We think like we have clear
conscience, together
with knowledge senses, used
consciously
to force
with held truths
to mutter

goodness gracious great ball o'fire, Cousin Jimmy
didjasee'em… like boomer minds blowing gnosisnot
What a moment to live through, if you can, hope you do, then do, and do, and
seem to be okeh, at the end of the worst that could happen... not happening.
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