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hypnopunk Aug 23
cut your hair in a bathroom with a pocket knife
put all chairs in your house upside down
pretend you always hate your life
paint your face to look like a clown

pay for your friends' groceries
draw on the walls with coloring pencils
paint using your fingertips
eat nothing but leaves and lentils

clean mud residue from underneath your shoes using metal nails and tissues
deadly lie stating you clearly don't have any mental issues

stick any words together and say it's a protest song
be alive right now since you're so convinced
you won't be alive for long
it's ready to happen
hours count down to launch, but the burners hum already
the structure is taken up
siphons slowly into the bloodstream

the catalyst, the moment
the agonist, the imitator

the perceptual set is set, and it's famished
not even lit, and it's waiting for more-
the stimulant, the ignition
the doctor, the system

like inlets of blood, the freeways carry us to the city
like carcinogens, like poison medication
like aluminum, like exhaust

i too am carried
and when i reach that center
i am deposited, and begin to take effect
while i wait for my own poison to take hold of me
blood within Blood
and
poison in Poison
medication in Medication in MEDICATION
we make sure all of our cancers are medicated

it has happened already
but i am waiting for it to happen again
the freeway now quiets itself in anticipation
a new day to repeat
the city is ready for more
Written ca. 2006
Em MacKenzie Aug 10
I’m waiting in line, wasting my time
for things that won’t come, though they are mine.
Pretend that I’m fine, should I draw a line?
Don’t wish to run, but I think I’m just done.

Feelings I can’t shake, they keep me awake,
the list has increased, how much more can I take?
With so much at stake, I try not to break,
I miss the sun, but I think I’m just done.

With tired eyes
I’ll still see it through.
Exasperated sighs
in breaths I drew.
I broke the ties,
but I’ve got some glue.
Searching the skies
and looking for you.

I’m waiting so long, maybe I’m wrong
I can’t walk away; my legs aren’t that strong.
Alone in a throng, I still try to prolong,
but it never begun, and I think I’m just done.

The flowing tears
should extinguish the flame,
but it’s been years
and it still burns the same.
Doe eyes sees the fears
and treats it like a game,
then it all disappears
am I to blame?

I’ll wait forever, I’m not too clever,
passing me by, but never say never.
I can not severe this painful endeavour,
I’m always the one but I think I’m just done.
Autmn T Jun 8
And as I bathed in milk, it became curdled. My heart eventually turning everything sour. It is a magic trick only I know.
Deep May 5
The 'gyre' hints arrival-
Twenty centuries making room
For a new epoch,
I’m modern bird now,
I may sound haphazard, troublesome and brooding
unimportant topic for hours,
It's up to you to lend ear or not;

I was winged rooster confined to land only,
Now I’ve become 'hawk', with knowledge of flight
perhaps power too,
Seeing the world from far above
Envisioned me a seer sight;
I see the world functioning; the lowliest on top,
the best in daze, and mediocre relishing mediocrity,
One or two good men wasting
life in poetry; Of which none cares.
Oblivious armed men guards the periphery;
At centre white termites gnaws the Door.

At this height, all seems different,
I can’t relate with my earlier self;
My knowledge seems nothing but
a frail sound in vacuum.
When I became 'conscious'-
My dreams stopped being dreams—
My thoughts were invaded daily—
Life evolved in million years—
'God is dead', universe all naked.
We’re the supreme, the Satan both;
Busy in triumphing Nature.
Converging all— blazed my beliefs.

We’ve progressed too much, portends
the trembling of earth
And smoke eclipsing the sun.
'Death I breathe',
War looms again,
Life is traded in forfeited currency.

I see the world functioning,
I know one or two tricks too to cheat,
To assault, to ****, to loot.
I can foresee the end—
Its good to die starving then
To fly in proximity of land.
gyre; comes from WB Yeats,
Hawk; Ted Hughes (Hawk Roosting)
Freud's term - Conscious, Nietzsche's quote 'God is dead'
Just Ivan May 3
I crave her affable personality,
& the words well crafted in her heart.

Share with me and end my unbounded ennui!

Forever yours, a banal nobody.
In hopes of getting past hello.
maria k May 2
when life seems smothered in beauty
such beauty disappears
when laughter pierces the glass of night
it leads to sorrow
when the aroma of pie swirls through the room
a fire waits to consume
seeing the glass half empty may not be the best idea
I wanted to be heard, but never said anything.
Ed C Apr 13
I feel like a clown
makeup running down
my face, from the rain,
the pain of feeling clouds
blocking my sunshine dreams
ha ha haaa.....
Royce Apr 5
The years have dripped away, I went from 20 to 28
In the blink of an eye, and found myself nowhere.

Back then I worked the warehouses, busting my ***, for a payday
Talking to myself, half crazy, “Don’t worry, you’ll soon be an emperor,
Just a little while longer.”
While the guy next to me has been at it for over 30 years,

Soon to retire on nothing.

Coming and going, watching his co-workers retire, die, get fired,
Make supervisor, go crazy, or just not show up for their shift;
Having moved on to something else.

After my shift, I learned to drink,
And allowed myself to be broken by love
And learned that being alone
Is good for the living.

Sipping a can of beer in the sun,
Cigarette in hand, and beat up from the shift,
I thought I would be young forever.

But someday soon I WILL DIE,
There isn’t any other way.

Yet the never-ending cycle of repetitive lifting continues,
And no matter what they say, no educational institution
Is going to save me.
The time clocks I’ve punched in and out of for years,
Are laughing at me, mocking me,
“All hail the emperor,” they snarl,
As I come and go.
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