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Do ya ever feel like a shipwreck adrift in the water
Pieces of ya scattered like a lamb after the slaughter,
a mere shadow of your former sweet innocence
barely bobbing above the big sonar rinse?
Can't believe what ya read
nor believe what your supposed to believe.
Can't help wonderin' bout the agenda
Definitley can't pretend not to.
I suppose ya just have to go a bit numb
Drift on the wave and play kinda dumb.
CCTV surveillance, so called necessity,
oh **** big brother's watching ya ***.
Google is god and god is dead
Oh **** the'll crucify me for what I've just said.
Street lights ain't just street lights anymore
they're stickin' cameras in 'um expecting us to eat crow.
We'll all be robots that's the plan
punch ya in, download, scan.
Chips in your brain, chips in your nose
they'll go with us wherever we goes.
The grammar's all wrong. It's the prediction text.
No need for fingers. it's all effortless.
We're losing our common sense and our low-fi cities.
I'm losing my mind and I dont even feel ******.
They're cuttin' down trees 'cause they're blockin' our signies
and burnin' and lootin' 'cause they've got some agendies.
We're loosing our birds, they're falling out of the sky.
Would connecting the dots lead us to  the wyfry?
Losing's all right once ya get the hang of it.
Be fine in the mornin' and get back in the swing of it.
Turn on the screen, see what's new,
choke on our Krispies 'cause we forgot to chew.
Ah who cares our thoughts ain't our own.
It's all covered and programmed by our phone
It's all fun and games when there's nobody home,
dinner's sprayed and modified to the bone.
God knows what's in the water, the vaccination.
No worries we're all sci-fried and on vacation.
Ah yea they've got us all pegged and amplified,
can't sleep anymore, we're all irradiated and wyfried.
Wyfry, shake, scramble, grill an' bake
uhuh it's the burnin' down of the human race.
ah yea it's the slow fry and burn at the stake.
View on the current  state of a world on the verge of huge economic and social change that may be going un noticed generally in the midst of other distractions or considerations.
Aristotle Aug 2020

do you remember how you split it open? like the bittersweet greeting of a kola nut, you split it open, ya know? yelling goodbyes to my brain, as all my memories kicked for mercy to never be forgotten.

do you remember the ripples of my blood?
you told me i was beautiful, how the cerebral sap of my mind was tender and pink and raw, like a cleaved watermelon on a japanese summer’s day, sweet and sour, so sweet and sour, you watched in delight as I writhed on the barren floor, begging mother earth for sweet death.

i remember you well.
the sparse nightclub, the flashing lights, the litters of countless dancing bodies.
then there was you, gold-eyed, black-lipped, summer-dropped skin, dyed-waves.
you looked for sad girls like me, girls who tried to fix you, and spoon feed you words of love and glamor, you looked heartbroken darling.

you were gorgeous, godly gorgeous, with the devil’s mind but the tongue of a saint, you reeled me in; never having to hunt since your prey came to you, we searched for the lost light in your eyes.

and I saw it, life reborn, given birth by da vinci, a renaissance erupted through your white death bones, you came alive, savoring each wound, each terrified soprano raking my raspy throat till their was no more, you were strong, so ungodly strong that fighting back only got you harder, happier-severing my hope of survival to a orange pulp.

but i got to see it.
how i fixed you.

there was complete solace in your eyes, you could breathe again, feel again, laugh again, enjoy again, cry again, dream again, living gave you misery, yet ****** bore you life itself.

do you remember? cause i remember. how you said there were flowers blooming from my skull.
no mourning lilies or winged roses, but a cornucopia of smiling magnolias, swollen tulips, and drugged poppies, you told me i was beautiful.

what a fond summer slaughter it was.

“he caved in your head to fill the hollowness in his heart. but you are nothing more than a fleeting memory now.”

Part I in ****** is an Art Series
author's note: please know that i do not actually condone ****** or the like, this is merely an artistic view on the subject!
“His fingers wake, and flutter up the bed.
His eyes come open with a pull of will,
Helped by the yellow may-flowers by his head.
A blind-cord drawls across the window-sill . . .
How smooth the floor of the ward is! what a rug!
And who's that talking, somewhere out of sight?
Why are they laughing? What's inside that jug?
"Nurse! Doctor!" "Yes; all right, all right."

But sudden dusk bewilders all the air—
There seems no time to want a drink of water.
Nurse looks so far away. And everywhere
Music and roses burnt through crimson slaughter.
Cold; cold; he's cold; and yet so hot:
And there's no light to see the voices by—
“No time to dream, and ask—he knows not what.”
Ashlyn Yoshida Apr 2020
Cherry plums for the small goat
Pits for the large chicken
Milk and water
Bury; slaughter

Remember to call me when it's done.
Peeping through the hole I can witness the bombs exploding,
Outside the men with their guns loading,
People are running to save their lives,
But the explosives can't lower the cries,
Atmosphere is all gloomy and dark,
Like atrocity has left its mark,
Rage has overtaken humanity,
Is this my destiny?
I remember the old days with mom and dad,
How I was their favorite lad,
Spending time with my friends would be a carnival,
Where everyday was no less than a festival,
But it lived for a short period of time,
Soon power made people commit crime,
They all have become blood thirsty,
where all the decisions are based on money,
They say the war had been won,
How could it be when mom and dad are gone?
It doesn't make a ****** bit of difference of who wins the war....
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Holocaust Poem: "On The Slaughter"
by Chaim Nachman Bialik
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Merciful heavens, have pity on me!
If there is a God approachable by men
as yet I have not found him—
Pray for me!

For my heart is dead,
prayers languish upon my tongue;
my right hand has lost its strength
and my hope has wilted, undone.

How long? Oh, when will this nightmare end?
How long? Hangman, traitor,
here’s my neck—
rise up now, rise and slaughter!

Behead me like a dog—your arm controls the axe
and the whole world is a scaffold to me
although we—the chosen few—
were once recipients of the Pacts.

Executioner, my blood’s a paltry prize—
strike my skull and the blood of innocents will rain
drenching your pristine uniform again and again,
staining your raiment forever.

If there is Justice—quick, let her appear!
But after I’ve been blotted out, should she reveal her face,
let her false scales be overturned forever
and the heavens reek with the stench of her disgrace.

You too arrogant men, with your brutal injustice,
suckled on blood, unweaned of violence:
cursed be the warrior who cries "Vengeance!" on a maiden;
such cruelty was never contemplated, even by Satan.

Let innocents’ blood drench the abyss!
Let innocents’ blood seep down into the congealing darkness,
eat it away and undermine
earth's rotting foundations.

Al Hashechita ("On the Slaughter") was written by Chaim Nachman Bialik in response to the ****** Kishniev pogrom of 1903, which was instigated by agents of the Czar who wanted to divert social unrest and political anger from the Czar to the Jewish minority. The Hebrew word schechita (also transliterated shechita, shechitah, shekhitah, shehita) denotes the ritual kosher slaughtering of animals for food. The juxtapositioning of kosher slaughter with the slaughter of Jews makes the poem all the more powerful and ghastly. Such anti-Semitic incidents prompted a massive wave of Eastern European emigration that brought millions of Jews to the West. Unfortunately, there have been many similar slaughters in human history and the poem remains chillingly relevant to the more recent ones in Israel/Palestine, Rwanda, Bosnia and Kosovo. Keywords/Tags: Holocaust, poem, Bialik, translation, slaughter, massacre, God, prayer, executioner, hangman, blood, innocents, justice, false, scales, injustice
Broken Arpeggio Dec 2019
NO MORE am I confident in what this world has to offer
Its people are selfish and crazed
Chewing up and spitting out the meek and mild souls
Imprisoning an empath to suffering and pain

NO LONGER can I look upon life fondly
With that pure yet innocent gaze
I've been stripped of the wonderous excitement that curiosity can bring
And replaced it with an anxious but violent haze

NO MATTER the extent to which I try to recover
My mind keeps taking me back to those horrific days
Where a person or persons exorcised their demons
Placing those vivid memories on a continuous loop of play

NO DOUBT I'm broken and tainted
Which is quite short of filing it all away
I cannot condone or explain exactly why
Those that slaughtered my reality did NOT somehow pay
One single act, be it wonderful or horrendous, can change someone's world forever...
Carl D'Souza Jul 2019
I asked a vegetarian
“why are you a vegetarian?”
and he said:
In an ideal
joy-and-happiness society
would we foster
empathy, caring and compassion
between all people?
If people are unempathetic, uncaring and uncompassionate
to animals
would people also be
unempathetic, uncaring and uncompassionate
to the human-animal?
Thereby destroying
joy-and-happiness society?
And if so,
should we be
empathetic, caring and compassionate
to all animals?

If farm animals
feel pain and suffering,
should we be empathetic, caring and compassionate
to them too?
And stop slaughtering them!
Chris Slade May 2019
They squeal & shriek as they career down the hill.
Not because of adrenalin, seeking a thrill. They don't know of the impending ‘****’.
You see, they’ve never been in the back of a truck before.
Even daylight and the cool breeze is something new they regard with awe.
But prodded, pushed, poked; overwhelming! Terrifying is what it is!

Herded into the light and across the ramp with brothers, sisters, cousins.
No more the cosy family unit, they’re now just some of dozens… hundreds!
The only thing they’ve known till now is darkness warmth and a mother’s love.
And today, at just 4 months and a day…right for butchery - and suddenly a shove,
beaten… slaughtered, packaged, marketed, eaten!

There’s no realisation that this rude awakening, this beginning, is also…the end.
Their confusion is profound… No inkling… no message to receive or send,
that this first welcome breath of fresh air will also be their last.
But, having witnessed it , I’ve decided that I have a carnivorous past…

Et a partir de maintenant je suis végétarien!
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