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mantieteo Oct 2014
life grabs me intently
Holds me tightly and comfortably
In her arms
She whispers cruel lullabies in my ears
She sings me to sleep throwing curve ***** with each lyric she breathes
Her voice is so heavenly yet her lyrics they pierce through me like daggers
Life is strange the way she lures me in this heavenly sleep but shakes me out with a nightmare filled reality.
Is fate a myth
Or simply history
In the making?
Time has no control,
Humanity can alter in many ways,
Change is inevitable,
It eventually possesses species
To age and exist,
Change is a chain cycle,
Like repeated life and endless death,
Every time
A new creature is born,
A human is modified
Into an improved being,
Fictional characters attract
Later relations
Becoming real friends,
Emotions rain
Upon nothing,
Carelessness listens,
Rusted persons remain,
Fascination of naive substitutions,
Dissimilar appearance is shown,
It is humor,
A parody act of an individual,
Copycats are role models
Also reversed,
Prototype is modernized,
A flash realization,
Attire is just costumes,
Halloween is every day,
It is bitter
To join a daily moment
Without forgetting happiness,
An original reemerges alone,
Continuous trial and error,
Cancelled plans,
Prevention of bail,
Focus on detachment,
Enemies enhance friends,
Vice versa,
Ignorance, selfishness, and obstinacy
Play important roles
For imminent loneliness,
Layers peel off,
Phases reattach,
Advanced coating,
Flesh is fresh,
Advantage is taken
Before it rots,
Practice makes perfect,
But nobody is flawless,
So why rehearse?
Conversion is harder
Once an escape is made,
Easier to turn back to habits,
Longed antique people
Update to mainstream
For the familiar fame
Causing personal depression,
Difficulty in translation,
One false move,
One mistake
Can shape everything,
Change is for better or worse,
It is neutral,
Trust is a dare,
It shall be a risk if so,
Life is not sacred anymore,
Beautiful opportunities,
Immortal lessons,
Unfulfilled difference,
Generation increases,
Veneration decreases,
A drifter or a breather
From a mundane reality
Lived in today,
Buried childhood,
Alive adulthood,
Until skin wrinkles,
Life becomes dull,
Change is the only regret,
Eyes analyze nouns,
Burn from mutation,
Melt out of sockets,
Now fluid, now tears,
Due to Change
In this planet,
Lips are blankets,
Teeth forever hidden,
Numb dumb face,
No-expression,
Distressful internal scream,
Thanks to Change,
Influence should disappear,
Good or bad,
Abnormal transformation
Is inner and outer,
Every living period,
The topics,
The only events,
Violence will never change
But progress,
*** will never change
But process,
Suicide will never change
But build deaths,
Down to the physique of Earth,
Its decay,
**** sapien extinction,
Change occurs,
Past blurs out,
Present is happening,
Future will shout,
What is not needed
Is pleaded,
What is not wanted
Is taunted,
Creating temptation
To shift self,
Society ripens into rumors
Always developing
Over infinite time,
Civilization is the tumors
Of the world divine,
Of course
Looks mature,
Genes mix,
Still adjusting,
From a caterpillar
To a butterfly,
When insects die,
Old selves perish,
Where there is dead
There is still transition,
Not by action or choice,
Soul disintegrates,
Spiritual decomposition,
Sprouts regenerated seeds,
Change is sane and insane,
It is humane and inhumane,
Keeping some youth
In the heavy heart,
Offspring morph into aliens
Proving Darwin wrong,
What stays human
Is what stays pure
To hinder their contagion,
No matter what at first,
As it grows and grows,
Change is unexpected,
Social morality
Evolves into
Singular morality
Unless hate enters love,
Love is reduced
And produced,
The amount varies,
True passion figures out,
Full respect notices disguise,
Isolation underneath,
Distinct memories
Soon fade obsolete,
Exception of fragile organs,
Mind is psychologically sadden,
Recollection is to function,
If consciousness is missed,
Recreate remembrance,
Reincarnation
For an everlasting current
Since time fluctuates eternally.
Silence Screamz Oct 2014
We talked
I listened

We loved
I cared

You got mad
I got upset

You yelled
I was cornered

You slapped me
I was red

You pushed me
I hit the wall

You hit me
I was bloodied

You said I am sorry
I didn't believe you

You said I love you
I didn't believe you

You said never again
I didn't believe you

You said Please come back
I left you for good
For a friend that went through this. .
MST Oct 2014
I am the oppressed,
and you are the master,
holding me since birth,
as I am evolutions disaster.
I have a tendency for violent outbreaks,
created by institutionalized racism,
they say be "normal", there are choices...
yet within our beliefs there is a chasm.

For I was born without an option,
and went where I was led,
my only freedom was my adoption,
into the gangs for whom I bled.

While society cites me as a statistic,
I am just an average man,
pushed to the point of being sadistic,
because for the blacks there is no plan.

Do not group me with the heathens,
or make me out to be a sociopath,
I went where I saw life's beacons,
and as a child I was caught in that wrath.

Someday this will all end,
that day that I will be dead,
revolution will strike society,
like a bullet in the head.
Ruthie Oct 2014
Why do we have to fall in love?

Why can't we just go in and out as we please?

Why does it have to be so **** violent?
MST Oct 2014
Sirens screaming in the distance,
searching for a victim,
a black man hiding in the shadows,
running from his life's battles.
Since the ripe age of fourteen,
he went to school in pain and death,
fond of the power of a weapon,
and the ability to steal someone's breath.
Taught that the only way to be,
is the life of an O.G.,
the hood is all you got,
that is until you are caught.
In the jail the oppression continues,
with the pigs up high,
and the blacks down below,
with this dynamic, the resentment will grow.
When the victim is finally out,
expected to fit into society,
yet this setback put him on the wrong route,
only seen for his notoriety.
So who are we to blame him,
when he sees stars within drugs,
all his opportunities are now dim,
pushing him back in with the thugs.

We expect him to grow and move on,
but the pressure on his head won't allow such bliss,
the only way out is the way with the gun,
such is the life when on the run.
Austin Heath Oct 2014
You're one to believe in god,
so tell me Grandfather;
You believe everything has a meaning
and war can be righteous
and war can be hell.
What does the rain mean?

It's not a metaphor for pushing life
into the festering corpse of a beat horse
in the late fall, early winter, is it?
Is it a drowning of that mistake?
A bed to sink your imperfections into?
What is this grey sky speaking to?

Was it WW2's tail gunners dead in the back
and pilots swarming like flies in vicious harmony?
bloodthirsty dogfights, and the folk guitarists
standing in awe,
jaws unhinged,
mouths open,
wondering,
"What the everloving **** just happened?"

You believe in God, so tell me;
They stuck your body in the dirt
over 2, or maybe it was 3 years ago.
You never told me anything about this.
You never told me anything
but empty threats.
God is a mass hysteria;
a mental disability,
a harmful fantasy.

But what does the rain mean?
RW Dennen Sep 2014
Around the eighties the Mumers New Year Parade in Philly
lost a bit of its tradition. It originally was made for
the average working family. But around this period
people were charged to watch them do their famous strut
and extra displays of course only at City Hall.
And so let us begin my poetic story...


Standin' among the crowd,
watchin' blue police-van-bleeders
being escorted; wearin' city-steel-wrist-braclets

And now struttin' my way,
psychopathic eclipsers
of physical freedom
seekin' potential comatose heads
to tap

And squads of finger thrusters
of back pockets for targets,
dart in and out of crowds,
quickly countin' their *****
in dark unseen places

Feet freeze
as sounds travel,
" Oh dem golden slippers"
soundin' like cheap tin toy Kazoos
and toy glockenspiels

The wind kisses
my **** end blue
as a flyin' Budweiser
kisses my right foot wet

Man made pop art
reflects the times
at the times
at Broad and Spruce
of cigarette butts,
chocolate wrappers,
and crushed beer cans
climaxin' montage
of the mountain- ****** eighties

Boozers and blue
sweet puffers
wearin' smiles
outside
and within most inner thoughts
puff-buffed away from some reality
step in cadence to their
own music within themselves

And wailin' children
havin'
more sense
than adults
become early sacrifices
to the fruit of Bacchus

The marching high strutters of "Big Bird",
they strain and struggle under the weight
of heavy hernia suits;
with feathers and sparklers,
their instruments wrestle as steamy air puffs shoot forward
from their nostrils
like  red-devil-painted-dragon faces
in the bitter cold air
warmly protected by their attire and *****,
they stop seemingly for eternity,
in the suspended purgatorial
halts
one after another,
only waitin'
for the grandstand reserved section
around City Hall
Yet we wait and pray together
that perhaps like in the older days
we will get a sneak of
a nostalgic, spontaneous,
free dance-strut
that never comes

Attached, yet unattached
and cryin' inside;
always on guard
for flyin' and drunkin' fists
or flyin' articles
of all sizes
Seein'  through
the facades of we must act
like ha! ha! ha!
I cry inwardly
with anger
doin' the rat-tat-tat
of no more nonsense
of my inner-self
Strivin' and movin' to flee Freddie Kruger's bladed fingers
I sting all over,
my teeth clinch with anger,
darkness intensified
The crowd becomes uglier,
blackness
engulfs
black souls
Vehement, crazy,
hordes and hordes of frustration bellows
outward
The call of Nietzche,
The ouch under my skin

This damnable real parade
not shown in Liberace-livin'-Color

No commercial breaks of luxury cars
that drive livin' manikins
Livin' manikins that wear dial under their arms
while smilin' the brand of Crest toothpaste
but instead,
a street drunk with
broken ugly teeth
as he begs for quarters
and blows his odorous breath
beyond description

And City Hall payin'-grandstanders
with tv cameras
bein' in the spirit of "Disneyland"
presents
the overly organized narcissistic prostituted
elegance of forever, floatin', bouncy,
dancy, prancy,
skippin' to the tune
of  mom's Apple pie,
a small slice of my reality

And the applaudin' money makin'
TV grandstanders
of goody goody
look mom I can do the swan dance
while holdin' multiple
colored sparklers
wrapped in feathers
But why must I
see through the eyes of a Godless Nietzsche,
**** it!!
Lara Wan Oct 2014
I killed you in my mind
I stabbed you to death 37 times
I gouged your eyes out
shot an arrow through your mouth
I may seem violent
but I'm really calm right now

I killed you in my mind
ran you over with a bulldozer
put you through the wringer
and hang you dry
it may seem gruesome
but I'm laughing so hard I could cry

I killed you in mind
drove a knife through your heart
and right now I'm being kind
I whisper, "It's okay" as I tear you apart
you may think it's gory
but sorry, I'm not sorry.
I need restraint. I really want to strangle somebody.
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