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Neelam May 30
Obscene rituals slouching in

massive screens unfiltered

undeterred, Unquestioning

ignoble minds celebrate

familiar hibernation

punctuated by routines

Monotony is the norm

Accepted as form of survival

by urban slaves.
Written in an experimental manner, this poem dwells on the mind control mechanism by the media and the automated approach to life by the urbanites.
Poetical Aug 2020
I wear a face mask wherever I go.
I wear a face mask when I'm at home.
I wear one when I'm all alone.

I distance myself from everyone.
I won't even hug my own grandmother
because I'm a hero
who won't touch anybody
unless I'm wearing a hazmat suit.

When I am dead and in the grave,
Bury me with a face mask on my face,
And bury me 30 feet from all other graves
So I won't get covid-19 when I'm deceased.
Poetical Aug 2020
.
#AloneTogether
is very clever
if you're a dunce
who thinks in puns.

It's cheesy, bland,
insipid, and canned.
It's anti-poetic
and grossly emetic.

It's meant to convince
you while you wince
that all is well
at the Bill Gates of Hell.
Raul M Murray Jun 2020
Encephalon is the flagitious syndicate target
To imprison the saintly and resistant population
In the research agenda which is classified
We are selected guinea pigs in a nightmare
To the unethical secret operations
Unknown to many, is the silent suffering
Of isolated victims living amongst the community
Satellite surveillance includes electromagnetic harassment
That burning, thought stealing, control of limbs feeling
I was done by the hoary Navy's sonar
Poor dolphins washed up Cornwall's beach(1)
After sonar echoed in my right lughole
Mind control technology has evolved
The community are recruited by false propaganda
Thats the local police, council, library, not restricted to neighbours
Old style Cointelpro is in play
Discredited, slanders, and victim blaming
Who can we share with but other targets
Nobody asked which human is for "use" in trials?
(1) http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/cornwall/7443626.stm
Cleo Aug 2018
i should be in a war
i should be fighting
for my own freedom
the mind is not a joke
its difficult to control
i feel like crying
but whats the use
we are all in a journey
the destination
we all know about it
just do not take me yet
let me breath for a while
let me laugh like my friends
i deserve it, this is not the end yet
telling me about how life is useless
will not help
i need to be normal
the mind is not a joke

#RIP Avicii
Mark Lecuona Nov 2017
maybe it's just holes in my ears
i never did fill them up with gold
maybe it's just the color of my skin
i didn't try to draw it
you have no idea
it's what you tried to say
what i should have said
are you so weak
that a disagreement
makes you want to **** me
that's why i have holes
fill them with your hatred
and it will fall out the other side
try to rub it on my skin
and the ways of my father
will tell you that I am a man
Mariya Sidi Jun 2017
I stood in awe of this being
Who commanded my heart
Took hold of my attention
And worked my mind
Like a master puppeteer...
Shannon Jun 2016
Mind control, is it not?
Engulfing the minds of the population
Desperate for admiration
Intriguing the population
As the damage is forgot
archwolf-angel Jun 2016
Racing in the blood
A war in your veins
Breathes multiplied
A chill remains

Clenching of fists
Heavily battering eyelashes
Chattering of teeth
This is going to take a while...

Clearing thoughts
Cleansing minds  
Strengthening a heart

Piecing the puzzles
Connecting messed up lines
Untying the knots
Take a look...

...there is a warrior in my hazel eyes
NM Oct 2015
Do you remember that young child so innocent and small?
Do you remember her laughing as she ran down our hall?
Do you remember that little girl with that big eyed smile?
Who saw happiness and sunlight in all that came?
I cannot remember her, in fact I have never seen her again.

She sits in a mirror young and small, but instead of running she's forced to crawl.
She cries and cries as she runs from the unknown,
I asked her once why she's so afraid and with a sad reply that answer was shown.

There stood a shadow, with blood on his hands,
Then to my horror I fell-I once knew this man.
Until then I realized I had lost my innocence to this game,
I was controlled by the trauma that made me forget my own name.*


Excerpt No. 8
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