Automatic translation of

An automatic rifle

Goes ratatatatak attack

The field is clear

The ghosts of souls still near

We are A-OK in this situation with this

   AK-47



Peace is dragged in the dirt

Rope around her black stifle

**** around her black skirt

A soldier offers her some water

Her struggles refuse to whimper.



A stout blond-haired chieftain

Watches from afar. Red stains

Of pain and blood subdue her

She will collapse within the hour

All she hears is the rattle of the

Blond snake talking to her



Automatic translation of

The automatic rifle

Going ratatatatak attack



Someone attempts to translate

The anger of a Glock:

“It’s just around that block

That you will fall, Peace

Sentenced by the death clock

Mounted on the automatic rifle

But you’ll be A-OK in this situation we have the

           AK-47”



Trump(ets) of shame echo around the devastated field

They told the blond chieftain he’ll be lead in track and field

In college. They showed him naked models in lingerie adds

They still show up on his LCD screen in apps

They told him he could buy a revolver for a couple of quarters

So he said “no quarters, please take this batch of Grants”

You are A-OK in this situation with this

     AK-47



Automatic translation of

The automatic rifle

Went ratatatatak shot in the back



In between his hatred-filled decaying teeth

The chieftain was staring when she fell, without an ounce of grief

Rubbed in reassurance his bulgy AK-47 for relief

He then came… to the conclusion:



“REST IN PIECES, PEACE”



October 3, 2017

Angels hugged each other
With the joy of discovering
The material to eternal love
A weapon to eradicate hate

They carried it everywhere
Waiting for a perfect time
No one wanted to have it
The depression now arose

Returned to their lord
Complaining about the humans
Unwilling to surrender
Beasts incarnated with hatred

The weapon rusted without use
Until a beautiful heart touched
The minds of the concrete walls
They melted before her kindness

I read about death and violence

I proof read,
and top up
and eject
and print
and scan
and hand in
and sometimes I get full marks.

Mark.
Marks
Marks on the body.
Mark my words.
(Mark my work.)
Karl ******* Marx
The communist who launched a thousand memes.

My oh my.

//

The necropolitical is like a funnel
a filter,
a sieve.
Like baking,
only you didn't forget to put the oven on
and people are inside the oven and so are you.

It's not like with the toaster
when ur mum tells u to scrap the black crumbs into the drain.

It's not like you can unburn the burnt.
Oh and the skin grafts?
There's a waiting list for that.
The waiting list?
There's a form for you to get on that.
The forms?
You need to print them out.
The printer?
OUT OF ORDER.
Buy your own.
OUT OF STOCK.
Your bank balance?
FUNDS INSUFFICIENT.
Your bank?
Sorry you have reached us out of outside of our operating hours.

Outside
Outside of our
Outside of our operating
of our operating hours
operating hours
and hours
and hours
and hours
Thanks for holding! A representative will be with you shortly...

[Dave Dobbyn music continues playing through the phone]

Threatening the mind of a brave soldier
The dark forces will remain unexplained
Tell the generations ahead what’s colder
Tyranny or democracy, peace maintained?

Hell may fall upon those who tears apart
He chose to dispatch the strength acquired
Howling the deeds he did from the start
Heathen, called himself to meet the required

Eventually, we will foresee the future now
Evolving a supernova to explode by then
Even the universes need a leader to bow
Ever will you believe the lord by then?

Vanished theories, then will rise from
Vegetating brains, once hesitated to form
Vigorous thoughts, soon will drum
Violently, watching the prophecies form

:::::
thanks to Elizabeth Squires

I
am
propelled
like
a
bullet
from
a
gun
barreling
through
space,
­Through
your
flesh,

Through
the
time
you
have
misspent
on
this
E­arth
now
ending,

Too
late
to
regret
the
bending
trigger
of
my
gu­n.

I
penetrate
your
******,
Your
Mind,

Your
sense
of
inner
self­,

Tearing
through
your
false
resistance
like
a
runaway
train.

I­
cannot
stop,
I
am
momentum
personified.

Ripping
through
your
ma­ny
lives,

Decimating
your
hopes
for
the
peaceful
tomorrow
that
n­ow
will
never
come.

Because
my
trajectory
is
certain
and
yours
i­s
a
wet
pipe
dream.
You
are
obliterated
into
fragments
by
the
cur­ling
of
my
finger.

Now
Isis
will
never
find
you.

Fear
is
a
man’­s
best
friend,

And
a
little
pressure
goes
a
long
ways.

I have tasted fear,
Bubbling up my throat,
Wearing away the linings of my insides like a plea that I just can't manage to get out.
Something blocks it,
Courage.
It prevents me from yelling out,
Rather I push on,
I accept the awful taste in my mouth.

I have witnessed fear,
A sudden metallic feel,
Red slowly dropping onto the plush carpet,
Jagged breathing exposing the dark saturated mouth,
Clean the mess,
Cracked bloodstained lips wiped at like a messy chalkboard,
Erasing the anxiety away from the tip of my tongue.

I have heard fear,
Loud, languished cries,
Shrill screams like a school fire alarm reverberating down an empty corridor.
Shields rise up,
Connected to my clammy hands,
Sounds no longer penetrate my ears,
My internal drum stops beating to take a moments rest,
My heart beat is a loud mumble that is the only sound inside me.

I have felt fear,
Body tingling,
All over like a chilling gust of air rushing into a room.
It envelops me,
I can't move,
But my body shaking violently ,
Cease.
Accept,
Live in fear.

You can’t stop smoking
I can
You can’t ignore ****
I can
You can’t avoid drinking
I can
You can’t stop shouting
I can
You can’t shut up complaining
I can
You won’t drop that gun
I will
You can’t help silence
I can
You survive with violence
I can’t
Toleration with independence
Seizing opportunities for peace
Let the wire choke your lungs out
Hell in front, war of apes
Animals in the streets, Grodds
Telepathic maniacs attacking blocks
Rappers in the venues spitting fires
On every head spreading contagion
Zombies alike, transformers of Lannesters

As night crawls
you paint your face
like porcelain
porcelain smashes the wall
as night crawls
as faces form shadows
hiding men folded into fists.

There it lies
porcelain face
crumbling like biscuit,
abandoned like cake
in a muddy puddle.

You scratch your head,
lips bent like mascara
lipstick weeping from eyes
like cake in a puddle.

Alone,
trapped in a mess
of love and cuteness,
trembling in mud
you hear salt
raining down your cheeks
for a man shrouded in ugliness.

How will you taste the ugly
when you are porcelain,
flour raining down your face,
jam gluing your lips?

How will you smell the real
when you are cake
covered in vanilla
tossing in trash
in the Fenomenon of Fake and Freeze?

Cutie
can you crack through that capsule
and melt?
We are dying to see you live!

Copyright ©2016 Dimakatso Sedite

1,
Run, run fast
2,
I'm coming to you
3,
I cannot find you, where are you?
4,
Are you there?  I'm about to catch you
5,
Don't try to hide
6,
You're about to be caught
7,
I can hear you
8,
I'm near you
9,
Hah, you're dead, i told you not to hide
10,
*inaudible sounds of laughter and shouts