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Grey Dec 2019
Like a shooting star, what was once now is gone forever
leaving a trail of memories behind,
the only thing lighting this bleak sky called life.
The night is cold and we are restless,
staring at the dark ceiling caging us in.
Headphones cover the ears of the sane,
blocking out the screams of their companions.
And here I stand,
surrounded by voices blending and changing,
monsters streaking out of mouths and
capturing others before freeing them
only to make them its slave – a contagion,
contaminating even the purest of hearts.
The sounds from my sweet songs mix
with the knives from the real world,
easily piercing through the fragile film
that keeps out the monsters.
As the daggers bury deeper into my haven
the darkness slips in,
wrapping me up and stifling my silent screams.
The headphones removed, reality’s sky blinds me
as the monster slides down my throat
and settles in my gut.
It curls around my stomach and lungs and tightens its grip,
now a constrictor leeching the life out of its prey.
I’ve been caught. The virus called life
has
found
me.
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
You tickled my funny bone

Just when under the rose I believed
myself a casualty

Maybe you're the one for me?

But I'm theory weary

Suspicious of the auspicious

You might bite down too hard

Spill me like grape juice

A septic drink offering destined
for the graveyard

Or worse

You might follow me like a shadow
of doubt

Until at day's end, you tire of each
dubious step I measured out

And then off you will go

Looking for someone new to bake
your cake

I already see tendencies to seal
my fate

But, my viral *****, today was a gas

About tomorrow?

I'll have to pass
Simon Nov 2019
A bullshitter to one’s own heart isn’t factual without statements gone astray. Its practical logic locking natures way of leading you astray, if you’re never opening one’s heart. That someone isn’t contrary to forbid their heart when even attempting to lock it up without *******! ******* is already contrary when it’s the very lock itself to someone’s own heart. Masking the potential when agreeing to focus on the (factual) leading astray away from the practical logic as the key to your own safe of *******! Bullshitting the safe confines logical dumbness. Trying an attempt at even wanting to touch that lock, will ZAP you into another bullshitter of someone else’s very own unique type. Spreading it like a virus. An outright PANDEMIC! Gesturing the practical logic to act as anti bodies when retracting away from the stench that is the opposite to what already makes sense beforehand. Then how did the bullshitter in someone’s own heart spread toward the next one appearing at the same conjunction in time? It’s never that easy to clear out the imperfections from actually ever dealing with the real self importance of it all. The locking bullshitter to someone’s own heart, is in the shape of a slithering snake. One appearing to you in the form that matches practical logic of what a surface area matches with one appearing to see what doesn’t hide itself. Compared to the counterpart diminishing all claims of what it counts as absurdity. The surface area in the form of a snake of practical logic. A snake whose logical way of doing something, is using it’s poisonous, corrupting fangs to influence another bullshitter who never counted on starting like that. ZAPPING them into a newly formed conjecture! Never truly knowing the actual repercussions to how one should act, once infected. Never knowing if there the same choice as the one choosing to obstruct in the form of blinded absurdities. That poison being the lock. While seeing the actual form of practical logic in the form of a key. Alright. Alright! So, by getting this straightened out. Revealing a potential, but an already obvious gap in the margin. The poisonous fangs are the virus. Making someone into a very unique bullshitter of there own design. Heart filling up without truly effecting it yourself. If any molecules are flooding the heart that much. Plugging the brim dry! Then if one doesn’t see the truly defined picture. Every molecule literally flips inside out to control what is never truly obvious to the infective. Dropping continues doubts about something truly being wrong with the bullshitter to someone’s own heart. The infective thinking this is the practical logic one should poke fun into everyone’s else’s business. Now switching over a one-sided debate to which one truly is making some sense as a mere starter kit. The snake itself being the vessel which holds the poison inside itself. Completely unaffected by there own virus. Fate unsealed, which is an illusion to how it controls it’s actions. Nature redefining all practical logic without trying to ask…WHY?! But (WHY) never being the first reaction to knowing (what it’s for)? Simply put it… It’s to hold the poison away from one’s own heart. The body is the key. While the fangs eject the poison as an example to retreating oneself in the process. Snakes free will being judged by a never-ending continues drawback of never being the one who is truly free. Being the one never truly free is always envious of ones being infected. So, it can purposely dive deeper into how one can change the sorting out with the good. While patronizing the evil into its own debated circle. Waiting a judgemental trial of getting out of the *******. Being a bullshitter to someone’s own heart isn’t cheap. Never the less… Neither is one fated to be cramped inside a prison as both lock and key. Supported by the corrupting poison being the snake’s heart itself. A slithering snake offering both nurture and hindrance. Hindrance being the processing ploy of absurdity taking flight under its own pressurising guilt. Slithering molecules to a poisonous heart are overflowing with a bullshitter to another’s very own unique type. Boiling STRONG! Getting ready to ZAP another unsuspecting copy of the original design.
A bullshitter is someone without redefining details in their own virtues plunging margins dry. Heart accepting whatever one deems worthy in the face of pure delusional absurdities.
Simon Oct 2019
A fulcrum to a virus, is stabilizing the charge of negativity in the bodies natural system. The heart feels it’s blood rippling with contractions. Main internal organs feeling the depth at which disturbance is relative to the norm. The norm being (activity) in the face of hustling environmental situations. Outside your system, or inside isn’t contrary by any means. It’s the same as if it were simple inputs reacting in a form able to move on its own accord. Syncing with the outputting world. Activity starting to measure itself for the greater good. A judgment calls in the face of closing a deal. The deal is finally running into something meant for challenges to address the norm from growing stale too early to experiment. Experiments meant to mold something that’s already in preparation. Waiting for the call to the fulcrum making ends meet with the negativity taking effect. Stronger as the virus who is used to surroundings of this caliber. An arsenal made to manufacturer imprints onto your biological code of conduct. Operating a system’s (will) against its own preparations. A set up of different fulcrums into the breath of negativities process. A virus! Virus includes its force of adjustment in the form of flaying innocent diagrams. Innocent diagrams pinpointing the exact locations which the virus could have a better hold of a body’s systems to executing its process of negativity. Spreading this unusual influence will boost the construct’s own fulcrum. So now it’s virus’s fulcrum versus body’s fulcrum? Can’t predict what hasn’t started processing the experiment. Knowing that much, will scare your interpretations from ever taking true shape. Never appreciating another awareness again. Only as long as it’s needed to accomplish it’s objective. Virus or systems encased in a body formation. There more alike then you think. Giving credit away from what is truly obvious. Virus…bad. No virus…good. The virus might as well shove its fulcrum right down your throat! Forcing you to understand just how premature you sound. Experiments issued by the systems controls, enacting a system wide preparation. Conceding balance controls. Its preparations already tested itself enough in its own environment. Its own tools and mechanisms ready for performance. Components never shy away from a challenge. Unless you’re a conscious base simplifier? Wanting nothing more then to not issue such orders. Getting in the way for a conscious system never understanding its own velocities bouncing one second to the next. It’s sometimes a burden in the light. Focusing on too much, is sometimes a headache waiting to run you dry! Virus prompting the systems desire to accept its fulcrums challenge. Respecting the process of negativity to run it’s course. Tempting the virus to not drown its components too easily. Virus tempted to act. Systems body waiting for virus to take the obvious bait. Which is too good to be true? If only the rules of different fulcrums were to make a biological check under the hood. Everything wouldn’t be so confusing, repetitive, or complicated. The list doesn’t go on and on. It lapses with the same circulation of promises to act on certain flaws that are made out to be one-sided believe and claim. When it’s actually the one-sided always tipping the scale in the end. Concluding the advantages of two opposites never winning the same side as itself. One-sided meant for only one giant slice of balance can be met. Never completely diminishing the result thorough to its points of interest. Interest is already exasperating its body language! Process of negativity is openly resonating from deep inside. Cells becoming soggy. Filled with disbelieve in itself. Trying to interlock messages out toward other neighbouring cells of similar placements. A cell being no more different then someone’s own home. Space reacting to your design. You’re believe system. Instincts holding sturdy promises to the experiment. Which meets every expectation available? A heated discussion between the spaces of cells. Something is radiating those spaces between ties uncut by regular motives. Fulcrums don’t imagine well. It’s a circumstance of visuals, and feeling. Nothing more to hold your own full of reflective potential in remaining stable between your relations. Don’t let yourself become uncomposed in the face of negativities actions. The virus is cunning. Yet ill tempered. Never hesitating to take the whole neighbouring block out with itself. Annihilating itself over the control of its fulcrums (want’s and needs). Diverse a charge to big for complications to arise out from the self replication that is voting the fulcrums negativity to higher platforms. Frequencies ricocheting back and force. Like kids bouncing from phase to phase, in order to find themselves. A dust settled in wrong claims of itself. The experiment was a sham. Virus has been tricked! Tricked by its own flawless nature. The system rejoices the claim of servitude. You were never really supposed to willingly action our will to newer adaptions. It’s tolerable to think two sides of the same coin, could ever amount peace. A peaceful remedy too powerful for the likes of a mere prisoner. The virus gasps in suppression. Never dislocating influence back into the stream of fulcrums not yet devised to join it’s cause. A cause made up. No servitude. Except for one ego rising better than the other. Becoming its own worse enemy. A self reflecting charge full of gimmicks too in denial and childish to RIP succession apart! The virus speaks one last time. I-I…thought we had a deal?! Now how does a deal go unaddressed, when we didn’t notify each other of such claims? The prisoner is escaping! Hold it for ransom?! The fulcrum of systems body, sinisterly grins delight. Let’s test the strength of similar brethren. In the attempt to draw more to our immaculate system of faithful desires!
A deceiver in the light, thinking it’s the deceiver in the dark. Mixed communications through tightened visuals of appealing the issue. Judges something not what it seems to be at first.
Poetic T Sep 2019
I'll never **** with her,
           she's more lethal..
   than a James bond villain…

Her legs have more power
  than a Fukushima releasing
             her poison between
     my hips.

I'm a rod and she's
the water containing my
          explosion...

but she evaporated,
             never watching...

Realising,

that what I release is like a virus.


           Contaminating the womb
of creative contagion...


You'll float in the abortion of my
         chock hold of words...


You'll never be born, still born words,
                     I'll burn you in a shallow grave.
And you'll realise that I'm never  to be ****** with.


My words were like a machete of gunfire cutting
            you up before you even knew pain.

I'm a nationwide hunt, and you'll be buried
                                                       in my words,
shallow rhymes, given a urinated burial...
  
                           I'm relieved your here and not in my view.
Julie Grenness Sep 2019
Virus alert! Virus alert!
Not feeling quite so pert,
These are the germs God sends ya,
I woke up with influenza!
Pucker up, you Casanovas,
One kiss will give you pneumonia!
Feedback welcome.
Hannah Sep 2019
If a virus kept its host alive it too could live.
But greed is more powerful.
Maybe we’re the same.
Thera Lance Apr 2019
She's known her for only a few weeks,
Maybe a month, it's sort of a blur
That should drip down her cheeks,
But only smears her vision instead
As she blinks away the disappointment that
Must be all she feels.
Because she knows better than
To get attached when
Everyone she meets on the street is sick,
Hacking up their life in little red drops that
Count down the weeks until
It's only her walking the streets because she can't get sick and
Die like everyone else and
Why her alone and not that girl too?

They were both young and gasping so, so clearly
When they ran up the stairs with groceries,
Which had been left to rot with their owner in the backroom.
They were both fit in fancy dresses from empty stores
And laced-up boots that fast-food jobs wouldn't buy but the end of the world could.
She was fine, vintage comic book in hand,
Golden ribbons trailing from her hair as she giggled
And their shoulders shook, bumping against each other
As laughter unfurled in the air.

It isn't fair,
Because she'll be fine,
One of those lucky survivors who'll
Always walk into a quiet apartment on her own.
bk Apr 2019
Is love a virus,
spreading throughout the body because of human touch,
needing constant attention to whoever bears it
but then can be healed eventually?

Or is love a disease,
spreading for the same reasons as a virus
and needing constant attention to whoever bears it,
but then destroys them slowly and painfully
leaving a scar?

B.K.
Which one is it? Come on, tell me.
Donna Apr 2019
Silly blocked up nose
Stupid irratating cough
Float far away please
My daughter my son and now me have this awful virus and I’m totally feeling sorry for myself x
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