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ConnectHook Jul 2018
Evil empires, controlled by banks;
Committee mandates enforced with tanks,
Sociopaths on the Left and the Right
Prepare for your own eternal night . . .
Those who do not know their own history are doomed to watch YouTube all day long ☺
ConnectHook Jul 2017
cerebral diarrhea
versus verborrhea
unpunctuated disequilibrium
generates opprobrium
unfree verse
fettered or worse
verbal *****:
bomb it.
confessional purgings
depressional urgings
emo-bingeing over unrequited love
makes this poet go off / out / above
Just a little ditty inspired by 90% of what I read at HP ☺
Sorry I'm so judgmental but "I gotta be me"

https://connecthook.wordpress.com/
We Are Stories Nov 2016
every time i wake up, i stare at the floor boards
waiting in silence until my thoughts **** me slowly
i take the stake, shove it through my brain
stop and think how much the devil has shown me
late at night, terror fright, taking flight, fighting might
shifting eye, little lie, guess i'll make this my plight!

demonic devil, do you use the deadly treadle
tapping toes too, to blue jam with your dreaded treble!
scratching claws now on chalk board black tops with your kettle!
shifting serpent spitting death you are black rose pedals!
kiss me quickly with bliss, i know the taste will settle!
watch my eyes close under sunlight, too late to level-

so, i let your poison seep deep into my concrete, abstract, and spirituality
hoping that the hoax has only one hold on my hellish individuality,
and that one omen of open obliteration making available my obliquity
stops before the second-strike sinks in my skin and makes me sing my dead man soliloquy-
how hopeful!
how hopeful to think that one mess is enough to get me by from the rest,
that enough is enough for me when i mess up,
and i will always be going good, going right, not running left.
sadly
i get mistaken by my madness for a smile and a pasture behind the veil that’s masked it!
while the laughter in my catacomb cerebellum crystallizes my coffin with convoluted clasps and cocoons me in my casket!
swallow the final wishes to walk away without wondering what would have went down without wanting to ask this
last question to push you powerfully over the edge without paying attention to the proper time, not seeing it’s all plastic!
because we’ve passed the only moment to turn our backs without the consequences of living in our bloodied baskets!
we kissed the serpent’s lips and ****** the spit off his silky-smooth tongue, mixing salt with fresh, leaving everything brackish!
cut off the arms and tongue before the venom attaches,
but still i swallow it whole and expect to outlast it-

— The End —