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Scot Dec 2021
Hunger to make sense of the nonsensical tore through my mind.  Searching for a truthiness that was null because they said it was.  Not able to be possessed.  ‘Twas Laid before me a plate of maggots to eat.  Smell of rottenness, the foul stench of a bandwagon.

I looked up for the Sun and they pushed my face down.  My intellect tried to reason and so I was labeled; “ist.”  “Cast your eyes downward and agree” they bellowed belligerently.  Agreement is always truthiness as long as you agree with the approved.

But I was not moved, though the mob pressed in upon my flesh with angrily flashing blue checks.  Their ire raged at the prospect of dissent.  You must believe the right beliefs, the pure beliefs, the approved beliefs.  To stray leads to your demise and of that we will ensure.  

You see, YOU are the source of all truthiness.  Your hate is pure hate.  Holy hate.  Your “ism” is pure and holy.  A neo-ism.  A neo-ism that is unlike your isms because your isms are impure and unholy.  Not approved.  Void of truthiness.

I reeled at the contradiction.  My stomach cramped and my thoughts raced.  “Nothing is objectively known.  Nothing is true unless I say it is.”  But what I say is not approved so it’s a lie and untrue.  Unapproved.

I sensed the absolute quandary.
They drove me from the money changer’s table in the foyer of the temple.  Their righteous indignation raged against my impurities and lack of truthiness.  I was diseased of mind.  A ***** screaming “unclean!” to the holy and clean masses to prevent their corruption.

They hung themselves on the cross of my indignation.  My inability to gobble down the foul plate of maggots that they placed before me.  Unconvinced of it’s pleasant odor and deep flavor that was not.  Because they said it was.  Although it was clearly not.

“Do you not see our righteousness?  We are Pharisees.  Our father was Abraham, but he was not.  And we don’t believe in your lying religion or even in our own,” they said.  “But you must submit to our infallible religion because it is holy.  It is pure.  It is approved.”

“Because you people believe that which you can see, touch, and feel.”  But all religion is a lie they said.  Except theirs. “Believe or suffer the lake of everlasting fire for your treacherous thoughts.  Your weak search for unapproved truth.  Bow.  Confess your absolute wretchedness of which no evidence can be found.  Because we are truth.”

We are approved.  We are truthiness.
Scot Feb 2021
Don’t be sad now that I’m gone

For all my incompleteness has been made whole

My idiosyncrasies have synchronized

My evil has been turned to the good

My unwillingness made willing

Freed from myself I was allowed to right my wrong

Struggle free and find absolution

My absolution was quickly given away

To those that seek their own but cannot find it with the living
Scot Apr 2020
When words carelessly spoken
Cause about them a terrible roar
When hearts they are broken
Selling feelings like a *****

Scorned, throttled and beaten
Torn as if limbs in their minds
Thrown down, burned into ash and eaten
Careless to hurt, living so blind

When the ones you have treated
Have died, cursed, or bleated
Bedeviling thoughts of him who is seated
Shall return to you with fire in time

With fire of their ire
Will you they seek
To tear at your bones and your heart to *****
And then you will learn that they were priceless

To a tone deaf ******* whose heart was of stone
Seek revenge upon your eternal and dying soul
Only then will you understand you were rich
Only then will you know that karma’s a *****
Scot Apr 2020
Grip the side of the bed in fear
Swelling in the air, a curse run amok
Seeing faces turn gray the seer
Fingers turn white a stare at the clock

How can I go when I’m not ready?
The plaintive cries the hallways fill
See my hands shake, my legs unsteady
Jump out of the window or swallow a pill

Where will those with class go to mend?
Among the pittance of which they dwell
Without a small sheet to wipe their a$$es
Will they su€k and gasp to the pits of hell?

Where is the mercy that thou dost seek?
Not as gentle the mist that has released
Shall it be boisterous or commonly meek?
What shall your soul do if called deceased
Scot Mar 2020
I can’t share, the truths I can’t bear
Life is cold, it doesn’t seem fair

Walking beside yourself, passing you by
Needing some love, you cannot find

Earth is in action, it does not care
These are your dreams, vanish in the air

Seeing the truth in slices, that’s no lie
Gasping for air, why do I try?

Listing alone, off to the side
Seeking a purpose, a true and tried

Can’t ever go home, just wander wide
It’s all a loss, don’t know why I even tried
Scot Nov 2019
What we are isn’t what we were.
What we will be isn’t what we are now.
  Jun 2019 Scot
Mohan Sardarshahari
With you I enjoyed
World as if your smiling face
World's activities as if
your beautiful fingers running on knitting yarns
World's jewellery as if
Your beautiful sceneries
World's goodness as if
Your lovely sweetness
World's greenery as if
Your yummy culinary
World's annoyance as if
Your innocence

I never thought
The days will be so harsh
World's colour will be so dark
My wounds will be so invisible
Days will add salt to injuries
I will see no end to my miseries
Only your ideals will heal the wounds
Your memories will be boons
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