#slave
Words...
Mysterious,
Aren't they?
For a King,
An absolute edict.
For a Slave,
A dying plea.
If by the 'Wise',
A lesson.
From the Fool,
A mere jest.
Now stay with me!
Won't you?
These words:
A poet's
Introversion.
Not Constant,
Rather, Dynamic--
The ear they fall upon,
The mouth they leave.
Enigmatic,
Bestowing strength upon
The ones who dare.
Pretentitous
Are the appearances
Guarding the core.
For it's not flesh,
But rather the words
That remain.
Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 4:31 PM UTC
It's a sin to love
but I'm better a sinner than a slave
I try to think of you at night
When did I got so brave?
I love it when you talk
I love it more when you talk to me
I love it when you see
I Iove it more when you see me
And i somehow get pleased
Just by seeing you breathe
And when this night in where you sleep
I'm scared that you'd leave
I hate it when you bluff
I hate it more when you act tough
I hate it when you cry
I hate it more when you wave me goodbye
If I knew how to love
Only if I knew how to not burn
If I knew how to miss
Only if I knew how to give a kiss
Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 1:34 PM UTC
Breathing in this pollution, this rotten air,
Life has gotten hard; It’s only harder to bear.
Sat in the back of a public bus, face down, a sad slave,
Watching towers drift past, destiny steering me into an abyss.
Can I do this for the rest of my life?
Will I have to do this for the rest of my life?
Will luck ever favour me in this life?
I’m all in for the hype,
To emerge from the pit of this pathetic fate is all I care,
Yet I do not dare,
I do not make lemonade when life gives me lemons,
Rather I turn away from the sun. I turn to my demons.
I like being neglected, the same way I neglect my today,
Pushing away my chances, just to repent them later.
Injecting lost causes into my veins gives me the high,
To bid the thought of good things happening to me goodbye.
I'll be playing victim for the rest of my life,
Turning down good offers, ready to dive,
I can see the blue sea on the horizon, but no thanks,
I’m content with my poor life choices, I’ve settled in the chuckhole.
Feb 18
Feb 18, 2026 at 9:57 PM UTC
A wealthy party filled the castle,
Golden halls breathed with gilded lies.
Laughter, like trinkets, cheap and false,
Sold to souls that crave disguise.
Silk whispered secrets to cold stone,
Wine stained smiles with fleeting grace.
"Freedom!" they cried, a hollow moan,
Within that gilded, hollow space.
Outside the gate, a figure moved,
A slave, in darkness, tending waste.
A humble task, unloved, unviewed,
A life of burden, born in haste.
An old man passed, his wisdom deep,
His gaze a mirror, sharp and clear.
He asked, "What revels do they keep?"
The slave replied, "My master's cheer."
The old man paused, a silent beat,
"And is your master truly free?"
The slave, unthinking, incomplete,
"Of course! What else could master be?"
The old man nodded, turned away,
A heavy truth held in his stride.
The slave returned, without delay,
The cryptic words the master defied.
The music ceased, the laughter died,
The master rushed, a frantic plea.
His crown forgotten, cast aside,
He screamed into the moonlit sea.
"Where are you, sage? I am enchained!
A prisoner of my own design!
I crave the freedom I've profaned,
This gilded cage is not divine!"
"I wear the gold, but gold owns me!
I command men, yet am commanded!
By fleeting whims, eternally,
My soul is broken and abandoned!"
"Teach me, old man, the path to light!
Release me from this golden hell!"
His voice dissolved into the night,
A fractured spirit, bound to dwell.
Inside, the party, unaware,
Continued on, in blissful blind.
The master paced, in his despair,
The true slave, to his vices twined.
He owns the world but cannot see
The keys to his own liberty.
Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 12:27 AM UTC
The missile finds the child,
And they do nothing but walk by…
The missile finds the child but they don their disguise…
The foetus finds the ground,
But there’s no one around
At least no one willing to care…
The missile finds the child,
But we’re more concerned about saying the wrong thing to each other than saying ‘I love you…’
The missile finds the child, but we’re destitute and fear feeling…
The missile finds the child, but we’re black water frozen,
Our mechanisms broken,
Our robots erred;
And this whole slave ship design - to crush all of our senses, is ended - expended -
All that’s left is a haunted, weeping child that would even forgive you for your horrors,
But you would rather die than see your true reflection in those waters…
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 5:21 PM UTC
A lofty ship is spotted far out at sea.
It looms in the pellucid distance,
a maroon and grey colored
vision of possibility.
I imagine scores and scores of packets of rice
held tightly together like sandcastles,
eager to be used and washed and boiled
And buttered and lightly salted.
Or heavy machinery assembled by
Weary and jealous hands
that wish they weren't so obedient
That too wish they were strong enough
To attempt the buoyant dance of exile.
As the Atlantic Ocean belches muscular waves
that melt like smoke ash at my toes,
another vision gathers at the horizon.
A seacraft is maundering,
It croaks its dissatisfaction as
Limbs knitted together like
Unruly ***** poke into every crevice.
Bight of Biafra’s children have been cloven.
The salty spring of the water mixed with
The rust of *** dried sweat and lifeless bodies
Makes for a particular entrance to the Caribbean Sea
This is life now.
Nothing sweet or nice about this.
Port Royal is not far off and she’s
Eyeing the new load of hesitant visitors
Tasked with tilling her soil and harvesting her sugar
She sighs with them.
Aug 31, 2025
Aug 31, 2025 at 1:02 PM UTC
Can you run me an errand?
Yep!
My picture came down, can you help?
Yep!
will you walk my dog tonight?
Yep!
You are such a nice guy.
Run me to the Doctors,
Sure!
Help me fill in this form,
Sure!
Take my books to the library
Sure!
I am so lucky to have you around.
Fix me a drink.
No problem!
The lawn needs mowing
No problem!
Pick up my groceries in the morning
No! I am busy tomorrow
How rude, well never ask me for a favour again.
Jul 5, 2025
Jul 5, 2025 at 2:56 PM UTC
Every slave must abide by its master.
The bitterness of carrying out
any action that will benefit others.
There’s no shame in not having choices
but there is in not having doubts.
Far beyond an ultimate freedom,
an excuse for an absence of self,
there is life overpowering reason,
and a reason overpowering death.
Being found in a state of despair,
stripped of respect to the bone,
a necessity more needed than air
to a slave – is a slave of its own.
Every slave must abide by its master.
Kneeling before what is stronger
or standing before what is weak,
is a future that cannot be wronger
or a past that could not be more bleak.
Far beyond understanding and meaning,
there is craving devouring men,
be it owning or knowing, or being,
it is always a mark of the end.
The imminent burden of pain
perishes as soon as you delve
into waters that can wash you away.
Every slave is a slave to himself.
Feb 8, 2025
Feb 8, 2025 at 4:26 AM UTC
Hands working to get the supplies
For their master.
Used, exploited.
For other people's comfort.
They breathe the same air
As the "masters"
But are shamed for it.
For wasting the oxygen
The "master" needs.
Jan 29, 2025
Jan 29, 2025 at 2:17 PM UTC
Self destruction
With no red button
Internal spontaneous combustion
A flipped switch
Quick curve ball pitch
Veered straight for the ditch
No countdown timer
No red, no blue wire
Just a smoldering dumpster fire
Struggle with each next breath
Welcoming a last breath
A timeless back and forth with death
©2024
Nov 22, 2024
Nov 22, 2024 at 4:06 PM UTC
I'm okay,
But I'm not okay with this.
I'm not okay with
the burden of having
a string constantly tied to my mind.
A string twisting and tugging,
showing and comparing,
validating and devaluing.
I'm not okay with
being concerned with the opinions of everyone -
how anyone can decide my worth
with the press of a tiny red heart.
I'm not okay with
playing the game,
being played by the game,
and inevitably losing the game.
I'm not okay with
being a slave -
happily forgoing my wages
for a selfish,
deeply greedy,
abusive,
master.
Nov 21, 2024
Nov 21, 2024 at 8:55 PM UTC
I'm your loyal dog
And you're my ruling God
I find it quite odd
It sends my brain into a bog
I can't stop following your orders
YOUR ORDERS
The curse, the spell you casted onto me to obey you
I'm your only servant
The loyal servant forced to be observant
I've been praying for you
Even if you treat me like trash
Even if you're the wind and I'm the ash
After a while, you grew tired of me
You abandoned me
You threw me away
Just so that way
You released that curse you placed on me
Just to be adopted by someone else
Just to get cursed by someone else
I barely got a break from all the abuse
From all the use
Yet, they thought I was so oblivious
Just like you thought I was so oblivious
They thought I was so cute - adorable, naïve, thoughts just like you
Why does everyone act like you?
My God?
It's so odd
I feel like I'm stuck in a time loop
Stuck in all the goop
I feel like I'm just a foot rest you can use
I feel like I'm just a puppet you can use
I feel like a young slave you can use
I'm over here working my *** off
Just so you can have work off
Just so you can have a vacation
While I live in caution
Scared of everything
Every single thing
Nov 4, 2024
Nov 4, 2024 at 11:18 AM UTC
Mr Fix It
The agent sneezed
Another f*cking head cold!
Which **** did he catch it off?
He'd give them their virus back 3x!
Make sure they suffer call it karma
Now he was taking calls in a mask
His voice was muffled and he was irate
Irate agent irate customers wanting help
With their Twinstar electric heaters
Tech support was such fun they said
The customers were American and lazy
Instead of fixing it themselves
They called Tech Support in the manual
He was paid to be chatty and Mr Fix It
Mostly he did ok but now he was mad
His cold clogged his throat and nose
The mask stopped him being clear
It was the perfect ******* storm!
The customers knew it from the get-go
He tried to help but that was it
'TL I'm not well I took my meds.
I'm going home I can't do my shift..."
He was sent home to rest
He only did 3 hours of his shift
And he hated the account
Should he quit entirely?
Aug 19, 2024
Aug 19, 2024 at 9:50 AM UTC
Same Song
The song is the same on this account
Quite similar to the song on your account
Our beat is different you’ve more bass
The words are the same you relate
A song about a job where all isn’t fine
It was at first then it changed
The reasons don’t matter what does
Is the fact you get it my feelings
My sentiment to the bosses
Who treat us like cannon fodder
Food for the gun cash in his wallet
Way it is in a call centre high attrition
Accounts pull out others get added
Be flexible we are told time and again
Yet dealing with ******** is the same
Different account different date
Same old bosses same excuses
We’ve heard it all before!
Aug 19, 2024
Aug 19, 2024 at 9:37 AM UTC
When you know it's not you
Then you’ve known another
But is it friend or foe
For you or against you
Your saviour or jailer
Your master or helper
It may oppose but it's not enemy
It rather flatters for pride leads to fall
Perhaps it's neither for you nor your foes
But for itself as it befits its own
If asked it will say it is what it is
And what another may say I don't know
Aug 8, 2024
Aug 8, 2024 at 1:04 AM UTC
To a master,
There are only slaves.
To a lord,
There are only subjects.
To a king,
But vassals.
To a boss,
Are only subordinates.
Yet, in reliance
Who rules who?
Aug 4, 2024
Aug 4, 2024 at 10:24 PM UTC
a thousand options or two
are all but irrelevant
I need no choices but One:
of my arbitrary will
created perfectly, in
wisdom and potent power
that if not shall be and is
thus truth for it is thereof;
gladly I enslaved myself
to my very own then be
enticed and just as enslaved
to choices purportedly
for my good—or make my foes
cry—if believed piously
but unseen its that same One
of strange self serving powers
and their arbitrary wills
and truths in a post truth world;
alas we totally lack
knowledge, fed and believed lies
of freedom, choosing by will
to be proud and gladly slaved.
Jul 30, 2024
Jul 30, 2024 at 11:36 AM UTC
That knowing freedom is beyond the door
Suffices not that you get up and walk
For there must be light and you've eyes to see
And you're not chained nor door's a devious trap
To tempt an escape to increase the sin
And fear whispering of uncertainties
Of vast unknowns and stranger unseen yet
And perhaps the door leads to just more doors
Better well-fed and cared-for but a slave
Then free, hungry and lost, and soon all dead
For freedom is for the living and free
Jul 30, 2024
Jul 30, 2024 at 11:32 AM UTC
You are the Ocean and I am the wave
moving in tandem as if I'm Your slave.
I rise and fall according to Your will
though once in a while I'm kept very still.
I have no real life without Your sanction
which now seems to be like a distraction.
There are so many others just like me
and I wonder somehow if they agree.
In this manner You just do as You please
and deploy us all with surprising ease!
Our goal seems to be on reaching the shore
then return back to You again for more!
The presence of the moon has much to say
with what goes on Your surface every day.
Its influence is more than we'd suspect
and has to be treated with some respect.
Beyond are other worlds and stars in space
along with the sun which dictates the pace.
They're orbs of living wonder in that sky
and cast their shadows if we care to pry.
How unenlightened seems this life of ours
when we consider how we pass the hours.
For our days are numbered lest we forget
but through One's realization some are set.
There isn't much else now that can be said
before a time comes and we're all but dead.
We can only hope that we've done no harm
on the Ocean's surface that's full of charm.
___________________
Nov 14, 2023
Nov 14, 2023 at 9:33 PM UTC
Cashing
A call centre job is a slave job
Like digging holes in the road
Or painting a truck with a toothbrush
Go work in a call centre
Do this do that all at once!
Multi task you’re all smart
Do more than one thing at once
We trained you and pay you
You’re the best so get on with it!
Make us some ****** money
Aug 4, 2023
Aug 4, 2023 at 10:17 PM UTC
-listen man, I got the internet, in my hand.
There is just too much to think about, So true.
Imagine having all the time in the world to try,
and an ai to sort on my search criteria,
-what would I have loved to know?
outline history, done.
overlay Protestant Bible timeline.
overlay Parthian Empire
etc. BTDT ad infinitum fun item
Ai takes a rough draft life,
and makes all its test phazes open book.
To now. At the speed of that does not matter,
cut to the after the chase,
now, what matters?
Apr 28, 2023
Apr 28, 2023 at 12:01 AM UTC
Life is the simple thing we neglect every day.
A day contains the time as we travel along our way.
Time is the thing we lack in our lives
As we yearn to find our way in this phenomenon called life.
We grow old in wisdom, yet are fragile in youth;
We cannot escape the perils that seek us with each move.
We can embrace the seconds that the clock has,
Or be the pawn forced by the master’s perilous hand.
Once we realize that three score and ten
Is the amount of time in which we have,
We will let misfortunes lie where they awake,
For life will not wait for us to simply engage.
Time must be the best of what we can make
As days are the things we can no longer waste.
For once they are gone like the birds in the sky,
They will never return, until death when we die.
So take heed from these words
That I must proclaim;
Live life to the fullest before the light fades.
Take one day at a time and never in dismay.
Travel the world to find what you sought in your dreams.
Climb the tallest mountains, quietly enjoy the scenes.
Walk among the people from sea to shining sea;
Hike along the rivers to live and be free.
For once three and ten spins dry,
Death is imminent, and life passed by.
Sep 26, 2022
Sep 26, 2022 at 5:08 PM UTC
every reality I thought there was;
a point of becoming someone else
though not knowing
that it was just a bogus reality;
that I was just a slave of my own reality.
Apr 12, 2022
Apr 12, 2022 at 11:11 AM UTC
do as i say
as you are told
on your knees
bow before me
your master
submit
accept
it’s your destiny
your role
a woman’s place
to serve
a man
a master
Jan 18, 2022
Jan 18, 2022 at 10:15 PM UTC