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Francisco DH Jan 2013
Dear "Dad",
Thank you.
Thank you for sleeping with my mom that night
Thank you cuddling up with her
Making her feel special
For getting under the covers and giving her the pleasure
Thank you because without that night I would have never been

That's the only thing you ever did right

Thank you for letting me expericence an airplane ride
while I was still in the womb
You gave her money to come here to North Carolina
and then you abandoned me, my sis, and my mom
Thank you

Thank you for not sticking around
For not providing anything for us
even back in LA you did the same
Not A cent you gave to support this baby on the way

Thank you.

I now have a Dad, a real Dad one who has always been there
Even though he divorced my mom
He stuck around and he provided
He is my father

I aksed my mom to let me contact you
I want to see the face
Of the man that provided the other chromosomes to make me
I want to see the guy who loves poetry
I want to see the guy who loved to read
I want to know this man
Because apparntly you past these things to me

But the one big reason why I want to meet you
is because I want to show you the guy I became

This boy that never met his father
This boy who gets good grades in school
This guy who has dealt with a lot
Wants to slam in your face A BIG FAT THANK YOU for not being there
For not helping me play soccer
For not helping with my homework
For not being there while I cried over something stupid

THank you "dad" for not being here because if you were I think I would not have become the person I am and I rather die then not be who I am now
JustChloe Dec 2014
She was 5 years old
her name was Isabel
She knew me very well
everyday we played in the park
and we made up a hand shake too
It went
I dont wana do the dishes
I dont wanan clean my room
all I wanna do is be here with you
then we would hug
and smile all day long
but that didnt last very long
my father told me to watch out for her she was bad
I didnt undrstead that she was the only friend I have very had
My dad insited that we never speak
he tried to make sure we would never meet
But one day in the cafetiria She smiled at me
then we became best friends almost instantly
we Did everything together
one day I invited her over so my dad can see
that she is an amazing person to me
and she is a lovely young lady
that was when i turned 13
she was always ther for me
Then I came to school with bruises all up my face
she aksed what happened to me
That was the first time I told her about my daddy
she threatened to call the police
she said that it was not safe or healthy
that its not normal to be beat
everyday
for nothing
that dads should punch their wives and cheat behind there back
she said good men dont do that
and I believed her
so just so my dad could hear I brought her to dinner one day
she didnt wanna go but I insisted it was ok
When she came over my dad got mad
the maddest I have ever seen him
then she saw my father
He punch her and kicked her then he grab a knife
I told him to stop I screamed
but i was to afraid to fight
to afriad to fight
then she stop moving and layed there still
everything was silent
she was dead
dead
my only friend
THen I grabbed the knife and stabbed my dad in the head
I screamed
NO MORE
no more
Then it wasnt just Isabel that layed dead on the ground
No one made a sound
my mom just stood there staring at me
Then I realized I just lost my family
I killed my daddy
I did worse then I could ever believe so I picked up the knife and stabbed my mommy
I didnt want her to have to live knowing that I killed her family
then I took the knife and stabbed me
That was the end of my family
Momma done asked me
If I's get a job
said 'Love I dunno,
I ain't thought tha far'

She say I'm a sad man
Told her she dam right
She never listen bout the
Demon's comin' at night

She threw her temper on me
I dunno what t'do
Momma word flowing through me
"Child learn to be true"

Oh my lawd
I'm a **** fool
Devil a waiting for me
'nd I dunno what'a do

There ain't nothing I mean
Just working through
My dry cold scheme
Oh Momma please help me
Find something real

My Brother aksed me a question
He wan'know I'm'gon'do
I'say, "I don't know bro,
Guess I'll'earn to be true..."

He say, "Now th'ain't good enough,
You got bills you know do!"

"WHAT'S THAT MATTER TO ME?
Every time I base up
I see my face meet a knee."

OH BROTHER WON'T YOU HELP ME?

"I wish I could bro,
But I know what ya mean."

OH MY LAWD
I'm a ****** fool
Hell's waiting for me
GOD what do I do?

Oh Momma please help me
Find reality.
I can only condemn myself.
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2020
call it culture... call it: kul-toor... something "cool"...
i've just drank a bottle of wine and
i'm far from... feeling an armchair moment
of enjoying: whatever it is i'm supposed to enjoy...

millenial woes...
        h3h3... the whole list... it's really your standard
packet of pork chops...
i would be much prouder if i were...
adamantly watching an english soap-opera...
at least that sort of "consumering" makes
it to a pub quiz status... the trivia the knowledge:
the machine gun and blank stares:
who's who?

      but i have comes across the concept
of ASMR...
                       insomnia dalmation barking
in swiss...
i was... once upon a time:
  told to listen to some Max Richter...
      i still much prefer christopher young's
hellraiser II: hellbound soundtrack...
i've been buthering that soundtrack for almost
forever... and the "problem of counting sheep":
i imagine myself making a chicken...
into a soup from the torso - intricate bones
of the spines...
   perhaps the wings... then leaving
the ******* for a roullade: or schnitzels...
and the quarters (thighs and legs)... well...
that's just another dinner... probably roasted...

counting sheep: can it be called:
shooting ducks?
              ASMR... cringe videos of whispering...
who pays...
when there's that full package available
with the bulgarian women... the dimmed lights...
once a year... perhaps once every two or three...
but of course... i check on myself daily:
whether all this drinking and all that smoking
is true: that it might lead one to a limb-****
bashing... day in day out like someone checking
their blood sugar or their blood pressure...
i check mine...
                        
        culture: ketchup...
           a clean and easy throne of thrones affair...
the no. 1, 2 and 3... and then a baptism in
the shower...
                most of the time i pretend:
having wiped my ***...
            if "culture" / ketchup is this bad...
the next best thing? ******:
                  becoming a **** flinging monkey!

busy as busy comes...
when was the last time it rained in england?
april was when i witnessed the spike of oddities...
it was sunny: so much so that you could
turn sunlight into a liquid and drink it:
like a schnapps...
     the bewildering concept of the english garden...
when... the garden is rarely used...
to b.b.q. like an australian:
   etc.
                 but the neighbour put up a fence
after 15 years of "politics" and now
i am working on putting apart the old shed
and putting up the new one...
          
ASMR... that kite is flying and i just want
to cut its umbilical chord...
and send a message in a bottle... thrown...
into something as static as a big chemical-puddle...
in a mini "bottle"... the message being written
in braille and itching on nail's head...
like a Gustav Dore etching...

                              something: spectacular...
        this that or the other... something spectacular...
like a phoneline... all calls from india
and from a call-centre...
                     thank god this canvas is "meine sprechen"...
spectacular" unwinding in how pedagogy
is a memory acid... someone comes along:
we, write - alt. "grammar"...
           no need - or need...
                      rules like gravity: never mind!
rules like: how to tie a tie: never mind!
      we make up as we go along...
***** spirit: yo'go!
               astounding my disbelief...
                 such rules when asked:
  could, extend... toward... the schizoid cipher?
        nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
bad grammar is one thing: speaking in metaphors
and crosswords: only the zodiac could:
with that splinter of ego and a hacking:
of brain as woo woo wood woody chen.

                to have went to school for the sole reason
that: one weren't born in the victorian
era and being a chimney-sweep!
   better have dumbed down and taught
to stack supermarket shelves:
while also being taught that...
   and... wanting to read in your spare time...

to see... a cohort of peacocks strutting like
geeese... tails folded.
                
    for lack of a better choice of words:
hit & miss... hit & run...
             if this was as easy as getting:
what walt whitman got...
             or didn't get...
                   bad grammar is good grammar:
a bit like arithmetic: 3 + 15 = 19!
or... the science of: guess...

                scratch of the head:
perhaps i'm an apostate catholic...
a proselyte veering toward... digging under
judaism is a pitiable reading of the qabbalah...
the good catholic boy'oh with his credo,
his litany of ave marias and unser vater...
     in conversation with hey'zeus: ihre vater...

                  noster pater: pater noster...
                    vester pater: pater vester...

to be so: "shielded"... a belief matching up
to prayer beads...
to actual prayer... and all that... cognitive free-space
to boot!
i'm a bad atheist: at inception...
or is that the "un" conversion?
to gravitate filling nothing with a self,
a mirror and smoking a cigarette infront of it...
it's not enough...
that i do not pray: doesn't excuse the fact
that... i'm squeezed by an octopus in a straitjacket...
to think of god: existent or non-,
            it's hardly concerning myself with:
objective reality objective truth or objective
morality...
               pass as a ghost in this life...
a tomb of body in the waiting: to admire sparrows
is to also pay very little due for
opera... the timing is crucial... or not...

   concern oneself with comparisons...
to truly appreciate a sparrow singing...
is to stand stark naked in a garden...
to truly appreciate an opera...
is to don the tux... and play the vanity game
and the game of voyeurism...
same old same old:
same book: different cover...

                     new atheism: no god...
yes... but still that funnel argument of: no god...
if a funnel is the hearing-aid of Pascal...
i bet it is...
                  bad grammar was one thing...
but the proof of solipsism?
farting in a crowded place...
and being the only person who wouldn't
mind the mild: overstated "nuance"
of exploring perfumes that...
better suit... the decomposition of
strawberries and apples...

cezanne... had he painted still life...
yes... at that moment of "death"...
recycling vector (0, 0, 0) when the fruits
in still life have reached the nadir...
but the form is still intact... etc.

                      to be a catholic or...
but to be an atheist: and have one's prayers
"stolen" and replaced with...
at best: the prefix omni- and a geometry...
to have one's prayers "liberated"
by the thought-glutton of existence or non-,

chowhound: chew-fiend...
best of all... no teeth, not tongue...
no tapeworm of oesophagus inverted:
umbilical chord "gizmo" replica...
no stomach no **** bishop "pomp & circumstance"
and the **** the crown...

so much for praying: praying could be recovered
from...
but to have one's thinking occupied so?
it's beside the psalm of the Pascal wager...
to think:
             ut cogito... the act, itself...
so much for: ego cogito...
                    
                         to think: no therefore...
is... to...             what?               be?
how many times i have found thinking to be
a **** manual... thinking at times frees...
but most of the time: reality-checks...
contrains... and obliterates prospects...
then again: that wouldn't be concise enough
to be given either noun or verb status concerning:
the...                zone rouge...

to think: is and isn't:
     otherwise... a statement... of exasperation...
that has no compensation
in a translation of: thought = being...
i think is hardly a cornerstone...
it's a stone... a stone among rubble...
a good... revisionist: again!
   this... "i" and this "think"...
                      
and overstated fact guarded by:
a pronoun invocation...
          but: to think...    what's that?
to think is... what?
           to conjure up a soul...
and all the hallucinations to boot?
to think is to... what?
in the future: the lost participle of present...
and the past tense being:
nothing more than a mongrel
of journalism... history and... perhaps...
poo'etry?

             no... there's absolute no need to make
of h'americans for their secular shortcomings...
but there's just the Salem...
and those stickers... parental... guidance...
necessary...
                        oath words like: i... **** i swear...
the church the tele-evangelical:
spit *** sooner pit of...
                    if i had my way with
the mid-west... sooner i: deer-hunter...

so much for the catholic boy: prayer, duty...
and so much for the atheisst "i":
who eats all my thought: the θ(ought)
conundrum... perhaps it's a moral question
too... perhaps...

   to think: thought: ought i?
lucky for me...
my body is a shadow and my shadow is thought...
and i forget what's a crowd-pleaser and
what will allow me to sentence to grief: less and less...
and less...
ah! to think: ought i? ergo:
qua: non-qua
                             vel: non-qua: qua...

i waited for rain... i waited for rain...
i finally found joy in rain...
i also found a lisp of scotland...
many a mile before edinburgh was reached...

up and along the swing...
to swing so high... but to also sulk so low...
at least the catholics and those other
pseudo-italians are just: god-****! predictable!
backwards... introspective:
that the orc started to trend on twitter...
where is Mordor? east...
i usually conjure up the russians and
the slavs: well... given that russia is mostly
conjured up into breath by
mongol mongrels - anything of russian
envy east of moscow?

kazakhstan?!

         i'm no freer from "god" as either
atheist or catholic...
sure... i don't have to pay duty for and excuses
mumling credo under my
"knowledge" of soul: the breath...
but something is still eating my thought:
it doesn't exactly care whether it exists
or whether it doesn't...
the best argument i'll have to borrow...

si dieu n'existait pas, il faudrait l'inventer...
if god did not exist, it would be necessary to invent him;
i too wish it would be done: the easiest -
to simply not think of him...

a cul de sac of arguments for my liking:
it's a plughole...
a bathtub full of water...
and the waterline is diminishing...
that will still not make me more
"believable" should i succumb to pray...
the worst aspect of h'america is
not the gluttony...
it's the evengelical zeal... then again:
i'm also wondering how this
is to escape me...
dilute itself into the readily available air...
fizzle out...
like a bottle of caronated water...
left open... till the carbon mingling within
a ******* of oxygen twins...
goes-bye-bye:

  when the first h'americans took to tourism
via pulp fiction: about le bib mac...
and fries served up with a dollop of mayo -
alt. - to home run: score...
zoid ist tod! zoid ist tod!

                 the prayer manual worth of god...
gone... dusted... the moths are settling...
and the spiders too...
              but the thinking loose skin...
"   " and what was missed bound to
a "malapropism" -
             hyper-inflated dyslexia...
       because learning grammar sentences you:
to that ode for the dickensian
chimney-sweeper!
  
                the misnomer... and the malapropism...
a debate: no... it's not a pun...
the peacock is loitering...
bad gwammar doth not:
fizzle out to faze him...
            
                yep... one of those internet ketchup
        moments...
to be "commited": pride and dignity...
performing a karaoke of harakiri...
                high-brow ambitions...
that: pride... and dignity... revenge... say what?!

salt is salty: no... salt is salt...
sugar is sweet: true... because:
you can't exactly....
              sugar is: sweet...
but sugary? unlike salt: there's no salty...
    sugar... sugary...
           salt: salty...
                    sugar is sweet...
but: sweety? an endearment?
sugary: taste the difference?
granuled... powder... syrop prone?
salt is salty: no... salt is salt...
sugar is sugary: no... sugar is sugar...

                                             blah blah...
and thank god no one has the time
and... concern for a capacity of minding...
such details... of obscurity...
better equipped:
a plumber with a blockage of a pipe...
than me... teasing at etymology...

life is: the bore of the precursor of time:
eternal time...
           forever is hardly a wait...
no amount of solipsism could ever solve...
the stage the sycophancy:
i ask: the solipsist and the sycophant
the same question:
what's the answer... when no question
is being aksed?
IPM Nov 2018
~~~

My gut spirals swiftly
downwards the twilight zone
a throne of skin and bone
speaks
"Thine sin you must atone."
Sat down, below red skies
above my head, familiars
reflection shines in eyes
of thousand flies perched atop rotten meat.
I rip my heart out and eat
it too.
Ignites a fuel deep inside
the hollow depths of this mind.
A darkness rose, roamed long ago
here
speaks to me now:
"Fear not what is to come,
sacrifice the living,
**** the young, burn their lungs,
eat their tongues an-"
"What madness is this?"
aksed my image
the ghastly apparition
"This plane is not unnatural,
tis' only a future you invision..."

~~~

— The End —