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Media moguls
(The big six)

Media moguls, farming us like baboons, leaving just a flicker of our human potential; enough to consume.

A bitter machine, manufacturing and selling the illusion of fear and failure; ******* with our subconscious, spinning and expanding this dark material world; for nothing more than prestige and false profits.

There is more to life than this!
Wake up Space monkeys!
A constant stream of negativity, greed and desire.
The consumption of our heads and minds
devouring them until it is us
Eyes search and wander for the channel that speaks clear
When I hear about someone with an addiction, television is the first thought that enters my mind,
everyone that watches it is into robbery’s, ***, and violent crimes.
They all sit quiet like a rock staring into space,
with no movement at all, a cold blank look on their face.
So many of them have trouble deciding, changing channels all of the time,
So, for gone they can’t concentrate, or make a decision with their mind.
Many of them got started years ago, someone turned them on to it for free,
now that they are addicted, they are happy to pay a high monthly fee.
Television teaches children bad habits in so many ways,
watching the weather man getting paid to lie, then they learn the truth the very next day.
The viewers hide from their families and friends all of the time, has anyone ever told you they have to go, they can’t miss their fix, of a repeat TV show.
If you count up all the hours they waste, years over their life time, that’s why their called addicts, because they altered their state of mind.
The next time you, faith full watchers see a story about an addict on Tv, you can hold your head up high and say, that guy is just like me.

                Copyright Tom Maxwell 08/18/03
If you train A young child to watch Four hours of television a day, and they live into their eighties, add up the years....
Randy Johnson Dec 2020
Something bad has happened, we've lost Dawn Wells.
Her friends and family must be going through Hell.
When we lose such a talented person, it's hard to understand.
For a few years she starred on "Gilligan's Island" as Mary Ann.

She died because of Covid-19 complications.
Her demise is sure to cause devastation.
Her family will find it hard to let go but they will have to try.
Dawn Wells has perished and it's sad to have to say goodbye.
Homunculus Nov 2020

Upon thee I feast  
as your willing
thou art my bread's yeast!

Fill me with fear and with grief and doubt
Fill me with joy and with hope I may shout
From atop a tall mount of my own dissolution
And lull me to sleep with your grandiose illusion!



Help me make sludge into mead, crystal clear!
Tell me my roles and opinions and thoughts!
Sell me that which makes my deep emptiness naught!
Oh, you our greatest omnipotent seer!



See what you've so serendipitously wrought!
See how so boldly and wondrously you've taught!
For without your guidance, what would be bought?
What would be sold lest the gold you have brought?



What would become of mass cultural trends?
When means for themselves would desist and come ends?
How could we possibly live without you
When you are the arbiter of all that's True?
I don't know that this is finished. Also, don't read Debord the day before an election.
A triple by-passing of the cold dark polar regions of the bipolar seasons of oneself

With just a simple Stargate-dash
and escape away
From all the harsh torrential landscapes
But never leaving un-scathed

And as a certain pathway appears
before me?
New hope is displayed in the face of dis-may

For now I realize?
That I am just a partaker in this Matrix*
With a sixth-sense I am like Neo

Cause wherever I go?
It's like a mystery is unleased
For I am revealed uncut and untamed


Some might even say
that I am of a feral-breed
But yet?
I remain still sane

You can call me what you may
But most?
Would just as well call me
a No_Name

For I am no one's slave
And I share no man's name
So I guess?
You can call me., a blank slate
Or maybe..

A missing., link?

No no no..
On second thought
Wait., let me think?

Call me Unchained
like D'jango
Just to give a little history on why I started writing. This was the day that I decided that I was going to write in my own way, in my own creative freeflowing style, without any chains or shackles.
mothwasher Jul 2020
my great throat tree is featured in float parades now

sponsored by paper mills

they send us free notebooks and you leave me

rounds of exquisite corpse to play

or folded frogs

or news of another alleged abduction with ***** political jokes in the margins

or the times you jot down to remember when you thought of the ghost

when i find these on my table, i sneak off for a phone call to the mattress

the mattress doesn’t care to watch parades on live broadcasted television

i can hear the ghost making breakfast on the other end

the mattress stares at the ceiling mostly and i remember this and i’m so


for you

i pick up a folded sheet and draw the trunk torso

and inside the tree trunk i draw a little man playing the french horn

but before drawing hearts spilling from the brass

i drew a massive ***

i smiled, knew you’d appreciate it, and started sweeping
rowdy lee Jun 2020
authentic shots from the shooting place in iran.
dozens of people died


she is not ashamed of her beauty. the famous model
let her ******* peek out at the ceremonial party –

all good
Maybe there is a grammar/meaning mistakes in my poems as English is my second language. Glad if you'll warn me. Thank you.
his starred in a
television show
and he wore three
stripes in a row

he'd conduct business
behind the captain's back
as the Indians were
staging a faux attack

his sidekick was a
little man known as Agarn
and they'd regularly
meet at the saloon bar

no doubt he did
marshal a rag tag troop
and inside the fort he had
command of its coop  

the show was filmed
in a civil war setting
and of its name I'll
not be forgetting
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