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Jeremy Betts Jan 21
This psychosis is flaring up again, most notably with the upper hand
Time after time and once again I find no rhyme or reason
That thought process, seemingly by design, is unfathomably barren
Scared of the transformation I know has already left the station
That's it there, right over yonder, comin' 'round the bend
Resistance is futile, it's a lesson in repetition to keep runnin' with no traction
No huntin' license needed for this "only fools rush in" expedition
The lethal weapon method preferred over the non-lethal stun gun option
As I set up and execute my own personal character assassination
And blame it on what's always been a continuous open season on who I am as a person
Stating it was the residents in my cranium livin' rent free from conception
Leaving out the moment I stepped in and fast forwarded this ****** Doo-Benny Hill situation to the end
You can still see the evidence of the all out mutiny and treason from within
Venomous hospitality, venomous quips, blue lips the reaction to the poison
The exact one found on the jagged edge of the rusty iron driven into broken skin
Just an oh to familiar back stabbing incident, another rerun
A web can be spun but I'm the only common thread...

Anais Vionet Jan 2021
(a sonnet)

Two realities, both alike in dignity,
In fair America, where we lay our scene,
There fallacious grudges explode into mutiny,
and lawful-blood makes patriot-hands unclean.

From common bonds these neighborly foes,
sail contrary seas of truth; on which they stake their lives.
Some, stoked for misadventure, by the host of a TV show,
do with their scurrilous deeds bury their futures for strife.

The fearful passage of compatriots love,
by continued embrace of marketed rage,
which, admitted truth and humility could dispose of,
fills now our breathless hours and sets our stage.

Which of you, with angry hearts, will patient peace attend,
and back away from martial games so pointless strife can end?
I start off with a twisted sample of Shakespeare - to set the tone - and purposefully have two inversions ("fills now" instead of the more modern "now fills") for a (hopefully) classical feel.
Priyam Jun 2019
A babbling beauty
That's what she was
A damsel who dared
To speak her heart
Frolicking furiously
Through the gates of hell, she
Gave great new meanings
To malice and mutiny
Pluto says
Keep your hug

Pluto says
Dwarf Planet my ***

Pluto says
Sticks and Stones *******

Pluto says
I know what I am
I don’t care
For your “opinion”

Captured by the Kuiper Belt! Please.
Or one my favorites,
A cold rock!

You called me a trans-Neptunian object?
I have five moons!
An 11 year old girl tried to name me.
She won £5 but I’ve had many names.
I am fond of Hiro.
But I’ve also liked Minerva.
I am hardly a minor planet.

In 2006 they tried to make a verb out of me
To "pluto" is to "demote or devalue someone or something.”
So passive aggressive and insulting.

I am not carrying that around with me
My orbit is 248 years.
At a 17 degree angle thank you very much
To pay my respects to that egomaniac Sun.
Why would I care what you think?
Perhaps I am envied because I am so far away.
I don’t think that I am far away at all.
It’s relative, no?
Yes, I am removed
from that Versailles situation over there
and all that *******.
That horrible planet
You know the one that I mean.
The one that’s crawling with “things”
They’re not even you.

I am awash with molten ices and
I even sport a plasma tail.
I spin in nitrogen gases
On my own path
With my FIVE moons!
Just us!

They claim that there are other
Dwarf Planets here and there
And even go so far as to suggest
That I am the puniest amongst them
But with my five and five more still
That’s 10 to 8
And you already know what I can do.
Mark Armstrong Jun 2018
Mother Nature is a nihilist sitting with friends
Around a poker table in the dew drop inn
Playing Nasty Canasta and the loser draws a limb
On a voodoo hangman, the cut of her kin

The high-wire committee say she’s way out of line
So they’ve sent in a crack-team of their most earnest faces
To blow 40 shades of blue, red and lime
From the very corridors our Mother paces

She croaks through the smoke “the first sons a novelty
The rest are just relics of muscles unclenched
Too smart for their own good and that doesn’t bother-me
But the reaper is hungry and hustling for rent”

Lackeys line the lawn, flunkies on fleek
To cover the crack of her chunky cheeks
“To stake lives may well seem immoral and bleak
But to play for cash prize seems horribly cheap
For a Lady of her esteem”

But the crowd spoke, she hung up the wardens trunchbull
Left the skeleton key within reach of the cells
“They’ve aired their opinions and I’ve had a ****-full
Let the hungry ******* impeach themselves
I’m sitting this one out”

“And I’ll  hide, while my dead snake wriggle persists,
On Elba with hairy pits, freckled wrists,
Openly practicing romanticists
And other hapless things that can’t exist
In these times”

Every second Sunday, the search resumes-led
By a dawn-chorus of confetti festooned-plebs
She can dance the devils limbo cos she’ll not be presumed-dead
While we’ve Holy Grail Package Holi-vows to renew-said
The green eyed usher on the door

The newsstand screams “Mother Nature was a fascist
Sher natural selection was the **** manifesto”
And they’re pedalling placebo to the shell-shocked masses
While the editor shoehorns a scotch into his amaretto

Yeah the world has been orphaned and the orphans smothered
But go easy on her sordid soul cos that’s  our mother, after all
Not to be read as any kind of statement but as a batshit bedtime story for overgrown kids
sunprincess Mar 2018
Zoom, zoom, zoooom.......
I'm traveling back in time
to the famous year of 1492
where with metamorphosis
I'll become a raging wind,
A wild hurricane of the sea
I'll throw ships off course
and provoke mutiny
Branden Youngs Nov 2017
Karma has its knife to my throat.
With a past full of anchors
It's impossible to stay afloat.
Childhood full of cannonballs
aimed at my boat.

Mutiny in my brain.
Vengeance through my veins.

A recipe for the insane.
Devin Ortiz Jul 2017
It seems forever and a time ago.
Since I felt, this sinister darkness
Haunt my bones, insidiously ethereal.
Outgrown, and overshadowed but,
Only temporary was the night.

In a search for self, after voiceless screams
Bled their emptiness into any word muttered.
Perhaps, I was fooled into the harmony
That this evil muse had whispered.
Her hast soul shattering tune.

Forewarned in foreshadows, nightmare's gleam.
The stability of my present, was the demise
Of my former. And I fade into the black.
A pale silhouette in the story of character
Marionette to this mutineer.
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