"What the ****?
Why is it that as soon as a topic gets religious
there are contradictions every third word?

Christian punk;
although Punk is Anarchistic and Marxist;
christian Punk isn't."

Jesus ******* Christ.

the ontological basis, comparatively
with what the people think when too many
politicians exist due to centralisation
of government, with so many parliamentary
members paid a wage yet still so aloof
that they have no eagerness for local
governing of things: we all know the Orwellian
metaphor of pigs by the trough:
cabbage and porridge, we all know the joke...
but when the zeitgeist of the populace is
plagiarism and ******* you must surely
admire politicians... they feed the people
facts slowly, instead of feeding them
carbonate ***** of wheat to bloat the chickens'
stomachs, they feed them breadcrumbs...
politicians delay matters so much so that
conspiracy theories arise...
for indeed people are not so much critical
of politicians, but of the number that emerges...
esp. those not schooled in sophism,
but rather schooled in unnecessary observance...
there is more to observe on the streets outside
the palace of Westminster than there is within in...
the lawn Mohican on Churchill's statue
with a pink lipstick around his face
and Caduceus revised Baphomet on his walking
stick... how i prescribed myself headphones to
create an artificial cerebral buzz-maker
each time i hear the blood sizzling fizz...
without everything being too quick or too immediate,
politicians are delayers of things...
they want the schoolroom banter to take place,
they're the ones unafraid to make and poke fun at
each other, sophism is intended for that...
philosophy takes offence too easily, hence it's
dangerous, it's limited to public engagement
because it's intended for individualisation of circumstances:
whether you end up homeless on a street
or ordained a palace and a crown;
you can't describe philosophy in five minutes
in the same way that you can't limit politics into
the same confinement... zoologically speaking it's
necessary for a lion to be kept in a cage as long as he's
being kept in it as a glutton who frequently sleeps
because he's well fed and doesn't dream of lamb-shanks
but instead of  being Simba (a Disney character)...
politicians delay and provide dietary requirements
of what the public ought to know... they're
like dieticians, they give you a dietary scheme of things,
because so many of us are prescribed duties
it would be madness to suddenly tell you:
Martians visited us last December, we need to
throw away our workman's utensils and go and pray
to them for free food and unlimited electricity;
in this sense i can't disrespect politicians,
i just think that an excess of them in Parliament is
what's fuelling a public disgruntling...
but the thing is... the politicians that people are disgruntled
about are not those in the mainstream, they're
not from the centralised "celebrity" batch of politicians,
they from local governments, and their presence in
the centralised house of commons is really disgruntling
to the public in most respects...
either way, admiration for politicians slowing it down,
disrupting the sharing of facts so that we
can accept our functions without anarchistic boredom
being awoken like some Godzilla...
in terms of facts i want to be a Columbus,
on my own initiative... i don't want to be a ******* turkey...
wanting to be a turkey breeds conspiracy theories...
in a torture chamber you just here: 'but they fed me this!
but they fed me this!' 'and you were stupid enough
to mistake facts for propaganda? catch the surf, ******!'
wanting to be a Columbus means you don't care
to own a plasma television and a Ford Mustang.

he was radicalized in
the marshes of Vietnam
when they told him to fire
his loaded gun at a
group of school children

a dissident who
marched on Washington
with a Reverend and a King
and read Žižek Zinn and
Chomsky's reflections on direct
action and anarchistic philosophy

a staunch opponent of
police brutality in his
fifties he protested the
****** of Rodney King

he did not go quietly
into the black abyss but
raged against a putrescent
apparatus obsessed with control

he died waiting for the Revolution

R.J Calzonetti


Screaming cross the skyscraper’s windbreaker tapering

Aether vapour- trailblazing ****-sapien wafers

Of machinations psychotropic doppelgängers

Aristotle throttling menagerie’s philosophically hypnotic obelisks

Mind-boggling astronomical chronological esophagus

Antioxidants phosphorus catastrophic mitochondria

Beyond anaconda onomatopoeia

Of hallucinogenic Armageddon biblical umbilical cords

Swarming northern lights of aurora borealis

The chalice a battleground of Evangelion belladonna

Metalica candelabra swallowing the monochrome Hanukkah

Of a cold winter’s eldritch disintegration photosynthesis

Of innocent infinity stretching wretched beckoning requiem

The words that fall upon my page, are really just a shallow grave

Of the dawn of nighttime in my eyes, calm upon the twilight sun

Wrong is done draped on the blood moon wraiths

Skyscraped fields dusk a hollow thud below the dunes

That thumps the consumption of our fate, fumes to glow in darkness loom

Left blind in light of day you cannot see, the little pieces silver sheen

For blinding light may fade to grey, and I will never have my way

Nightfalls on another daybreak, dawning darkness, sundown on another day

Twilight plays with sparkling haze, the sky a wildfire made ablaze in patchwork scarecrows

Who etch rainbows black as a heart of coal, sold flatlining railroads

Gold wraithlike halos of stained-glass cathedrals unreal in the fever-dream of human beings

Bleeding Elysium from the seabed of dead worlds, gourds of incorporeal cornucopias

Born orchestra morsels of sorrowful oracles predicting crucifixion of ellipsis’ antithesis


(MC) Aurora


Absonant  as my pen writes the twilight, the red swallowed on horizon and bright

As through a sea of blood under my feet and shrinking mast of my mighty ship

A shadow I make on that red snow and peep into my heart’s hollow

It’s deep as much as my pen spake of grief.

I blinded in that last light and hurled like a beast dreading the songs of holy lies

That have just pained in bright and made me grieve.

They dragged me on my wings and deplumate  me as so fallen humans

They wrenched my limbs and rive my heart out and flinger me in air and I laid forever

On the stones that dank my blood.

I wait for the troth  of  demise but betrayed as it didn’t come to detract,

I laid when the horizon grinned red on my face and poured the last ale

And brutally drank the last sip of me.



R.J Calzonetti


People are sleeping under the blankets of a tranquil streetlamp

A sunflower in the damp bed of concrete

Soon they’ll be pushing up daisies

Underneath the foundation of what I stand for

Nip the bud of the flower pedalling the root of all evil like fallen leaves

Breeding paraplegic freedom from the pollen melancholic

Anarchistic polycrystalline shapeshifters drifting vilified

Buried alive like asphalt constellations crowning metallic gallows alcoholic in my solitude

See the clouds bury the ground in half a heaven’s heartbeat

Limbo’s limitless abyss the photosynthesis of the sepulchral diablo

Revenants of redemption dancing with death

Evanescent in its bioluminescent crescent moon spooning illuminated illustrations

Of Himalayan mayhem cremated avarice of ethereal onomatopoeia unravelling catacombs in God’s palindromes

Homeopathic saplings decapitated in the dismembered September wastelands defibrillator

Invigorating the nightshade white wraiths plane-walkers of Apocrypha documenting entropy

Pent up sentience avenging the endless demigods of discombobulated proclamations nocturne graceless, octaves eldritch, evangelic

Elegant elevators to flights of staircases where the air is fragrant with the fragments of stagnant stained glass asterisks

Written gospels to masquerade hostage to the faith the man misplaced the sacred hate, the passageways of apathy apostrophe

Apartheid of serpentine survivors carving smiles on the sidewalks

Farming diamonds and their detox

Arming giants like a phoenix

Carnal nihilists with their secrets

Stardust quiet as the bleachers

Start defiant still a reject

Art discipled to our freedom

Shattered hearts pick up the pieces

Jigsaw puzzles, smothered treasons

Sow the seeds and **** the reaper

Even legions rhyme and reason

Tattered flags without a penance

Good men do not go to heaven

Buy your burden at 7-11

Your exit is the only the next entrance

Resurrection prepubescent

Asymmetric biomechanics

Anguish to be reprimanded

Megalomaniac in our sabbath

Living life is just a sentence

Psalms of seance death’s senescence

Baptize vengeance lest it ventures into heaven

Ventriloquist omniscience of rhythmic equilibrium

Earthly hurricanes reemerging insurgent as the sugarcane purgatory

Primordials metamorphosis contorting rigour Mortis oracles horoscope cloaked in cloaca hallucinations

Induced irradiated amalgamated retaliatory incorporeal chlorophyll

Born from the sorcerers' spell, the cathedral of doubt

The only darkness is within oneself, light shed within a holy shell

Isolation is a lonely hell, scythes of moonlight blight of bells

Nightingales fail to halo word of mouth

Enveloped in the clouds cast shadows hex

But resurrection cannot hide from the eyes of death

Fresh as babies breath

Rank as the body festers effigies

Bless the Nephilim the questions beck

And call for some god to collect the rest

Is there any answer?

Even growth can be a cancer

Lifeless corpses once were dancers

Devils waltz on top of canopies

Heaven’s hands have touched serenity

****** brands that crushed His enemies

Stained glass sanguine dismantled entropy

Calamity ran dry insanity dabbling in humanity

Unravelling the candy wrapper saplings of happiness

Pitch black irradiant dull edges sharpening archangels, darkness reincarnating

Blinding bioluminescent glistening abyssal rakshasa sarcophagus parting monarchies

Metamorphosis coruscating fornication immortalization Tartarean

Reverberating ****-sapien scintillating hurricanes palpitation circulating ricocheting oblivion

Shining crepuscular homunculus dully illustrious

Sunless avatars, mannequins of Abaddon stygian as fallen leaves on the breeze of Avalon Evangelion

Incarceration breeding Elysium’s jailors in the cathedral of double helixes

Bethlehem's’ new genesis of Lucifer’s crucifixion

Brighter than a fallen star

Mourning in the dark

Doppelganger apostles night stalkers of phosphorous

Pockmarked arcanum bloodstained in gravestone Salem

Where the braves’ halos dined on maelstroms alone

Heirs succeeding failures of the empty throne

Filled with nothings’ own

Brimming bound by Babylonian poems

Deus ex Machina's apocalypse coughing prophets of Samsara blossoming diabolic

Life is but a Holocaust

Death the moment God forgot

Breath the only psalm we sought

Kept within a hollow box

Shedding devils, angelic, lost

Finding metamorphosis


(MC) Aurora


A world often synonymous with beauty on the horizon,

Meet my eyes you mourned demon load the strength on thee.

Crestfallen light on your wrist burns down your girth

And you can plead, just plead your twilight sun.

Watch the dead sea swallow you in the salts of agony

And drown in the anguish, hundreds of angelic bloodsheds,

Press hold of the thumbprints on your throat, you can't roar.

Sore lugubrious melancholy aired atmosphere,

And downhearted souls dispirited dragons dragged along.

The sob grim hiding in a blue funk rusty smog choking wind,

The nyctophilliac animals howl long the cold-blooded love song

In your lungs and burn.

It's the twilight sun,

Just that twilight sun.

Let's get this revolution
All my new world orderlies
Because we are the solution
To the bigger stick diplomacies
The shadow of plutocracies
Casted by the sons
Of the Titan kings inciting
The immortal chosen ones
To Prometheus igniting
From the mythic rebel guns
Of Zapata to Guevara
Bolivar in Venezuela
They provided the umbrella
To the reign of encomienda
Reconquista gunna meet ya'
In the jungle with the rumble
Of a Sandanista struggle
From the hovels of Aleppo
Diggin' rubble with a shovel
Wagin' Warsaw in the ghettoes
On the concentration Campos
Lazarettos, and the diamonds
That you smuggle to the kingdoms
Of the Leos in the Congo
But Lumumba, they remove ya'
Like guerillas in the mist if ya'
Resist em' in the system
Arab springin' into action
'Cuz the shah is a mirage
And the Contra-banded faction
Is another name for Raj
To convert the sacred hajj
Into cheaper camouflage
With didactic hypocratic
Neo-liberal art collage
To reeducate the masses
With a capital dogmatic
Lower-casing democratic
Are the over-ruling classes
Where the socialist fanatic
Anarchistic automatic
Never passes, spewin' gases
Of an open-****** fascist
But the tilting of this axis
Is the cashing-in assassin
Malcolm X'n MLK and then
Allende, Joao, and Mossadegh
The CIA, pieces in play
Objective's always Pinochet
When fair elections
Have their way
The pawns go first
The cheaters say
Game over Mr. JFK
And they don't shed
A tear for Ted
Without a bullet
To the head
Of another red dead scare
To hide the truth behind the D.A.R.E.
Grin and bare the propagand
Now it's Comey's Hoover Dam
And Putin's Agent Orange  
Is the latest Khmer stooge
On the trail of ** Chi Minh
Painting refugees in rouge
Making killing fields of stock exchange
His presidential recompense
No cents expense for Climate Change
To silence sense and dissidents
Within the firing range
Of this ****** hate crusade
Scorching Mother Earth campaign
So we gotta disengage the main
Brain drainin' inhumane
Tyrants always back again
To seal the gates and lock the cage
Vote us off the winners' stage
By droppin' bombs of martyrdoms
Crazy Horse was not insane
Brown said **** this ball and chain
With Henry Wallace all the wage
Ragin' fifty shades of Shay's
To free the press and then reclaim
Our history's white-washed front page

♠ ♠ ♠

Pseudo-Oriental visions
Haiku, Tanka, exotic terms
Vapid New Age vibe-transmissions
proliferating eastern germs…

Anarchistic thought collages
Existential lacerations
Nihilistic heart-massages
Incoherent lamentations,

Communism on a mission,
grievance-mongering, stewed in hate;
pounding Fascist fusion/fission
chanting harshly “ours the state”,

Hymns to Gods who choked on *****
undertaken in overdose;
rocks that never rose to comet
rolling – but ending comatose,

Hipster ironies, tongue in chic
Metro-wimps who feign the normal,
Redneck rantings up the creek
semaphoric,  semi-formal,

matron’s maudlin observations,
motivational hypnosis,
(sentimental medications
offered prior to diagnosis),

coldly abstract neo-nonsense
read (by dullards) as cutting edge,
letters void of correspondence;
well-trimmed words’ linguistic hedge.

Climate whining (tried untrue)
with eco-prophecies warning doom,
Wiccans and tree-sprites trying to
undo the curse and lift the gloom,

Feministic tribal ranting,
Race-complaining, agitation,
GLBT gallivanting –
all are blights upon our nation.

Boring modernist excess,
(no longer daring  –  formulaic)
confounds –  yet never can address
what’s wrong, and so becomes prosaic.

Lists like this are perhaps  the worst;
another symptom of our times:
we who are woefully unversed
in rhythmic complaining that rhymes.

people should really stop ridiculing this medium of communication, and abusing it to serve out market square profanities against people while trying to sell kilograms of apples and shrimps... don't people realise this is a resurrection of the wild west? there are no laws here, there are no publicist authorities telling us: profit above niche interests... you really want a world where only something akin to the Da Vinci Code comes to your eyes' mesmerisation unglued from that sloppy version of sleep: in the s.e.m. when given the epileptics' digest by the television producers? this is play-dough! we have the ultimate authority - the software within software... all these software brands are also slaves to the hardware companies... please don't let them undermine the content within the content, because that recycles itself back toward the context within the context: i'm only using a computer, not a ****** kettle to make tea.

the argument bypassed all hierarchies of power,
                and it was done in the realm of the shadow people,
    long was the established
authority of man, in that democratic  babble -
until someone resorted to anarchistic measures
and said: well - allpoetry.com is a ******'s pleasure
garden of Pavlov, wattpad.com doesn't allow
                                                           ­                            ctrl c / p,
                 and elsewhere a truest
democratic expectation was
written out, against all established
lumberjacks of print,
   there, it was written,
lay the gambit - two cruise ships set off:
   become rich or die trying,
or...
               speak the truth against
a billion or two people and die not wanting
         a silver-spoon up your ***...
but i still can't believe that *incubus
released their seminal morning view
album in 2001; ****! i was 15 then,
an album of my youth...
                        such that music ages
like wine... apart from classical / literati
music kindred of Bach -
               the 20th century phenomenon
music as enjoyable as alcohol,
        no stiff-necktie princes readied for
louse agitation sitting in an opera theatre
for too long: grit and grime:
the down-to-earth passe that was actually
an impasse in terms of: can't ignore this
outlet.
             there's freedom where you can
find it,
                  sometimes facebook.com
allowed minor computer coding,
   the stroked-out ambiguity of
the zoological enclosure of <u> ending with </u>
for something being underlined,
but it's still all software, the hierarchical priest
that's a chef, but not the hardware wired
slaughterhouse attendee or the butcher -
i still find it bewildering that journalists
treat the medium that's electronic as a form of
surrealism, unreal, psychiatric worthy investigation...
well: dope,
                     people die from interacting on this
quick-action translated into real life "t.v.",
              journalists are basically writing us off
and whatever the internet provides goes against
their famous revolution of the printing press...
they can't stomach democracy of the internet,
they prefer to peer for the autocracies of
their belittling tabloid conglomerates of a Hussein;
they can't stomach freedom,
they can't stomach free enterprise: with or without
a care to have a family, pay the extortion that children
surmount to...
                         they are like priest, in the grey suited
attire of authority that's beyond
       distinguishable...
                                    opinions spewed like
regurgitated kebabs on an Essex dance floor after too
many shots of warm *****... without even a
chance for a dialectical horizon...
                     little fears, little people.
sure, i can be the village idiot: i did the opposite
of people outside of a eugenic background of
Shakespeare or Beckett households do,
    simply outside keeping the motto, if not
merely the motivation to be blunt flints -
i.e. great-grandfather was a doctor, grandfather was
a doctor, father was a doctor, i am a doctor...
embarrassing, this "noble" form of ******...
                doctors and lawyers are alike...
     if you want to know where the neanderthals are
these days? i'll tell you, there, where i pointed
at with the inbreeding of inter-generational "improvements"
but keeping the family name attired in a certain
profession...
                                    to be honest, for all that blah blah
of Darwinism (never stance it off against theology,
                      any -ism isn't a -logy, the former
attires itself with words but simply dictates images)
               we're less bio-diverse than we think we are,
        i call it the ****** plateau, nirvana unplugged
said it better, but i find the hard case of social mobility
          being immovable in terms of
                         a Francis Shakespeare imitating his
great great great, great great grandfather
                                 or a Michael Faraday
                                 Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr., Jr. Jr.
                           securing a patent on a Dyson light-bulb...
****** happens all the ****** time,
               it's just the socially acceptable ****** that
doesn't require rammstein to write a song
         entitled Viennesse Blood
                                            (6-    -en- -ease:
         6 denoting the Welsh ***** to you and ****** to boot,
                                     and the universal *******)...
                                                      ­ was i shocked when
i heard about this story? i could have been...
                                           but then i've been reading
the mentality of the culprit that's kindred of the Marquis
de Sàde (alternatively Sadé... i.e. eh?)
                       and i figured: have you seen how local
  and uninformed the people surrounding the case are,
                  they would have hardly known that
a plebiscite was taking place...
               two carrots a beetroot and a cabbage broth
in their eyes translated the civilised world's shock...
                  but that's what's shocking about
our modern world: you can truly become a barbarian these
days by treating modern, socially progressive / civilised
          antics or behavioural patterns with an
anti-social tinge of revision: basically stating the truth:
      and truth is the newest form of brutality (oddly enough),
incubated by the phrase: brutal-honesty...
              so evidently that's counter to: civilised-deceit.

It is a sad, sad story
for the successes of the past do not fare to serve us in the present
the logic of the bully is a nationalist sigh of relief
and the arc of our world is divided by invisible lines that cross borders
but across which only poverty ****, recorded and scored, shall pass
when the successful liar is preferred to the lonely sage
are we not prepared to accept that which we serve
are we not prepared to eat from the plate we have earned
to sup on anarchistic attitudes, imbibe narcoleptic morality
then purge our selective brutality on the servers
for we have earned this, that which fell into our laps
a modern life made tolerable by the indictments of demagogues
for freedom’s a blight in the nightmares of demagogues
shopkeepers made frightful by the incitement of demagogues
we don’t need rights when we’ve the rightness of demagogues
we know they are liars, but are they successful liars?
we know they start fires so they can be better seen
presiding over the funereal pyre of our former freedom
some bishop of hate and self-interest raised up by our fear
to a pulpit of nations drawn low by wage slavery
to a podium impatient for their arrogant knavery
to a rostrum of hatred unsated by gross economic products
to a minbar frustrated by allegations and false prophets
It is a sad, sad story
for our past failures, our careless disregard will not serve us in the present
the logic of the bully is the demagogues rise to belief
we are weakest only when we are weak
and no backs will lift this burden but our own
A sad story indeed

me made a pact,
more respect,
less attack,
That's what keeps you in tact,

Not being sarcastic,
Not being narcissistic,
But this is anarchistic,
This is chaotic.

Rhymes caustic,
I'm a fanatic,
Your rhymes antique,
Yes, i'm a freak.

You stay on your side,
i stay in mine,
You lied,
what a swine

somewhere along the lines, a pre-script revelation by dumb'oh: because painting deals with nudes in all seriousness and soberness, music explains the coupling of violins etc. to an ******... writing, in its depth has to deal with the murk and muck of thoughts and emotions - poetry as such entices an anarchistic spontaneity against any categorisation and systematisation, who's chief proponents are the pillars of reason, psychology and philosophy systematise, tell you the plans of the house, tell you what the limits and excess are... poetry in its anarchism teaches you nothing but experience and how to exploit it - as nietzsche pointed out: a shamelessness towards experience.*

i could, i mean, technically make
poetry cut-clean and smartly dressed,
sigh O sighing and star gazing,
i could masquerade what i'm about
write, but then i sometimes do like
cleaving meat off a bone using a blunt
knife, for that lion's tooth feeling
of having to use the molars (yes,
the canines are all kosher, they stab you
and the lion waits for you to slowly
bleed out - no sadism on his part,
no industrial death syndicate with
iron maidens, racks, a blunt sword
that hacked a few times at ******
mary's head on the scaffold - they executed
the ones they loved with a sharp sword,
mary's head was chopped off using
something as sharp as a toothpick, terrible
scene) - where was i? ah yes, blunt things,
blunt knife cleaving off meat from the bone
(a hellish follow-up if you're dicing the
meat for a curry) -
so this lion is the kosher butcher, he doesn't
do insect digestion, no spider-web cocooning
(is that an anaesthetic aphrodisiac you're
injecting so you eat me while i sleep? grand) -
so he bleed the **** thing out,
he's not some inverse necrophiliac in want
of wanting to see the thing he's about to eat
watching itself get eaten - another time,
another place;
unlike painting and composing music, writing
doesn't really have ****** perks when it
comes to it - oddly enough writing is a
pseudo-celibacy - now this is where the bluntness
comes in - i mean bach ****** and fathered
about a dozen children, mozart too, picasso for sure,
but writing is hardly a form that allows
the healthiest *** lives of what painters enjoy,
there's no aeroplane or lightning-thunder mechanics,
you know when you see a plane and "think"
you see it 20 miles behind, when it fact it's the
gurgling lazy tentacle flapping about from the
engines lagging behind - first lightning, then
the thunder - well, writing is the thunder and
the 20 mile lag of the aeroplane - i don't know
why music fits in with painting in terms of
being classified in the former, but it does,
it's a passive excursion into the art - you don't
need to play an instrument these days,
the ****'s just there for you to be bothered enough
to listen to it - i know, i know, audio-books,
never listened to one - but such passive appreciation
i'd only recommend to the blind, unless proficient
in braille, more than two volumes of the work done...
so bluntness... well writing is comfortable with
that other form of ****** gratification, your own,
like today: i was on Onan's throne (a toilet),
wiped my *** after taking a **** and thought
about not utilising my imagination, rather,
using what i call the perfected debasement of
*******: gifs - i can't glorify *******,
but i need something to act like a plug-hole
for the imagination to be pristine - and .gifs
are the perfect way to use it (after all, it is there
for something): no fetish, no ***** leather,
gimps out the question, ****** mind you too,
no teen, not fatty boom boom, no she-male -
whatever, you know it's out there -
but then my neighbour started singing in the
bath... the walls are thin... yes... thin enough
to hear what's going on next door...
now that put me off altogether... couldn't do it...
not that it annoyed me, not even in the slightest,
i can't do those kind of robotics with my
neighbour's "soprano" washing herself in the bath...
just, couldn't, do, it - sulky mood? not really -
but the moral of the story:
               the debasement of *******
               given that feminism
               proposes that ******* is debasing...
hey, i'm not the rich ******* with a mansion
bored and working out a steady income.

ok smart-***... you go in there alone, let's see you drinking a few beers in there, looking forward, walking, as if your eyes were closed.

gone the woodwinds of old, the old orchestra
in taters...  come this anarchistic tribalism
the spawn of capitalism,
without elders or any hierarchic
sensibility of respect, come... come!
it must come... terror on one side
via the enemy's wishes...
corruption on the side of our brethren,
the two culture clash...
yet still i remember the younger me
eager to collect the oeuvre of
iron maiden, prompted by
fear of the dark, later to discover
https://goo.gl/Z5xfLT (afraid to shoot
strangers), later to walk into the forests
alone in the dark, sitting on a fallen tree,
******* myself to bare skin
of the upper body and hearing a branch-snap
saying out-loud: 'no wild animal would come
this close'... in full-glitter moonlight,
then that dog... that dog chasing rabbits...
well, if the dog ain't real, neither are the rabbits...
you tested your Celtic Cerberus on me,
one headed, larger than an irish hound...
the dog... the dog... i just sat there
in the dark, drinking awaiting a hell-swarm...
but indeed a love for a single artist like that...
later came tool and slayer oeuvres...
but iron maiden stole me first...
if it were fear of darkness, why would i double
it by wearing sunglasses?
fear of the dark* got me started...
i encapsulated all the productivity from the debut
album through to brave new world...
yes... all of the albums -
but i **** you not, that dog in Bower Wood at night...
Hades was nearby.

Failure to communicate


I think about all the lonely people and think that life begins at first
You might be one of those lonely people with a sensitive heart trying to avoid all trouble because you know it ******* hurts
When you're one of those lonely people no one wants to know what your problems are worth
As a child I stood cold and lonely watching children playing and laughing but I didn't know them at all which made it worse
I sat in classes ignored by teachers so I'd look out of the windows were the sun warms me then as the sun beamed in I would just let my eyes slowly close and purse
This carried on through out my teenage years just looking and dreaming and sighing and fleeting something to avert what was work in an old dusty joiners shop with faces all disturbed by my presence I was cursed
My hands didn't do what my mind was thinking and when I was thinking I wasn't thinking of what I was supposed to so one Christmas I left with mutual consent versed
I joined the armed forces aged 18 years and begun to realise that there are lonely people and I fitted the army purpose
I was on a driving range and my head was full of what ifs and relieved my semi automatic weapon to my corporal and stood at the end of the line that silence was like a light bulb had burst
A few weeks later I dis-charged myself after taking an overdose of paracetamol that I had procured from a nurse
I was in self destruct mode and everything I tried taking or doing just made my mind feel much deeper depression thoughts grew into nightmares of misery from anarchistic mirth
I lost love for this country and I lost love for the earth.

Who never did a lick of work
gifted lifelong entitlement,
yet possessed webbed wide world reputation
actually humble contemplative earthling
jump/kick started cosmic consciousness
as modest (née supreme)
unrivaled spiritual leader
with natural born talent
to resolve conflicts
without uttering a word,

he merely presented unspoken charisma,
when his bonafide dogma stirred
madding crowd awash
with conservative and liberal
unflagging political stripes
plus token long haired pencil necked nerd
anarchistic disruption (holy cow) seldom heard
except during amber alert
contrary to violence prone
human nature, how
out of simian character and absurd.

Honest to goodness effort witnessed
courtesy eyes of big brother,
which affected shout and twist
in life and hard times rendered tragic
of one odd longfellow
surname of Mister Quist,
who once upon a time esteemed
as hotshot dejure at NIST
(National Institute of Standards
and Technology at U.S.
Department of Commerce.

The NIST Cybersecurity Framework
helps businesses of all sizes
better understand, manage,
and reduce their cybersecurity risk
and protect their networks and data.

The voluntary Framework kissed
(figurative kosher blessing
fingers to mouth non verbal communication
to hush quiet riot
unrecognizable protagonist aforementioned -
convincingly disguised Rabbi)
despite blatant underlying anti semitism,
which unpleasant ****** sound hissed
out the indecorous maw
of zealous white supremacist(s)
across the room of ornate Synagogue,
whereby security details
quickly silenced and ushered
unnamed, unhinged, uncivil...
evil incarnate odious louts,
who did unfortunately own right to exist.

Any resemblance between said divine mortal
(an avuncular good fella,
a handy dandy bare knuckle pacifist,
albeit harmless individual)
and living persons purely coincidental.

Indoctrination courtesy pledge of allegiance
occurred every morning soon after I arrived
at grade school, a little boy namely Matthew
Scott Harris remembers obligatory recitation
mindful to keep right hand over left breast to
experience the beating heart, not knowing re:
son nor rhyme, neither giving a fig, but meekly,
passively, and submissively heeding parochial
ideology, fidelity, civility to an abstract principle
to honor symbolic representation of life, liberty,
and pursuit of happiness and though grateful
to live in a country with intimations of democracy,
I now recognize absolute zero equality (one

hundred percent hypocrisy – admitted hyperbole)
prevails concerning, kickstarting, underscoring
inalienable rights towards marginalized people:
such as those of color (endowed by their creator
because their melanocytes produce different
amount and kinds of melanin), differently abled
people (once again gifted courtesy procreative
powers) favored by chance distribution of genetic
traits to acquire aptitudes, dispositions, headstrong
manifestations, skills, (albeit academic, anarchistic,
artistic, atavistic, athletic, autistic...), and those
individuals defying gender stereotypes, (which
generalizations mainly long foster discrimination.

How I long to watch it all go up in massive
Walls of flame
With you
To burn for you in anarchistic
Madness that you put me through
And set this hopeless, barren, wretched
Waste of space ablaze
And raze its fascist freedom fallacies
To ashen masses graves
And with my wildest temptations
Fade like self-detachment smoke
From charred remains of what remains
Of every promise that I broke
Of every note I ever wrote
Not worth their weight
In soot and smog
Throw on a log
And let me choke
On spoken worded spontaneity
Combusting in my lust
For flesh caressed in my possessive
Seething passion for your trust
And give it all to the inferno
To divine the splendid sun
Until my hubris wings ignite
Without you there to make it fun

Though I wrote no book
attention summoned to look
at following--->>>

predicated upon past and present, I gauge
will offer ogre golden opportunity
to rewrite anarchistic playbook page
with rightist extremist to rage
usurping future political stage
cuz civil war he aims to wage.

Impossible mission, nonetheless
eschatological, diabolical, critical...
dire straits betokens armageddon.

Upon virtual wall wordsmith
nsync with adept graffiti artist wrote
toadyism prevalent when electorate will vote
on Tuesday, November 4th, 2024
Grand Old Party trumpets intent to smote
vestige of liberty,
where outspoken libertarian orators quote
freedom fighting martyrs
cite American Democracy legacy as footnote
hellacious, ghoulish, fiendish,
egregious demagogues cutthroat
eliminated candidates begetting antidote.

Courtesy human papilloma virus (HPV)
begets growth(s) designated as wart
unwanted infection easily remedied
unlike deadly societal blight necessitating
mandatory voting obligation to thwart
lest one unwittingly greenlights
horrible malevolent former poor sport
forty fifth president of United States
twice eluding impeachment
earned him dubious distinction
counts mobocracy within in his court
even at expense sacrificing
national pride birthing enfant terrible
monster Roe versus Wade cannot abort.

Above prognostication gives casus belli to y'all
bespeaks impending apocalyptic windfall
Spanish and English writing on border wall
homegrown garden variety apprenticed screwball,
muster civilians and military troops coup to marshall
law brinkmanship ticks doomsday clock, hence the call
weapons of mass destruction concomitant ashfall

overthrowing pathological megalomaniac
née commandeer of human abuses free world oh God,
this exclamation ******* courtesy house atheist
runs ruinously, reprehensibly, rampantly roughshod
scaring out bejesus within winkin blinkin and nod
land of powdermilk biscuits and raw bits promises
to become ground zero predicated boneheaded clod.

Atrocious, cantankerous, egregious,
grievous, ignominious... dispensing
most every venerated, ushered, touted,
sacred, revered, pronouncing
progressive amendments dead
on arrival blithely shredding to tatters
hard won diplomacy courtesy talking head
likewise progressive reforms since Fred
Flintstone days of yore shelving
codied, ratified, sanctified... shed
jeweled important legislation,
plus Russian musk cows to wed
Putin on the ritz.

Blasphemous, cantankerous, deleterious...
execrable folly... doth seed
subsequently begetting and breed
anarchy, chaos, hell, plus helps
foment pernicious, ominous,
noxious, malodorous... misdeed
pitting one against another creed
internecine warfare, where liveried
troops don (auld) alternative energy
fighting gear powering, i.e. ac/dc freed

one or more ***** deed
done dirt cheap reducing at lightspeed,
the hard fought/won democratic
inalienable rights purportedly guaranteed
by United States constitution,
(though oft times bias, i.e. reed
anti semitism, charade, facade...) heed
trample equality, morality, universality...
making mockery (attested bleed
courtesy flagrant historical extant bigotry,
chicanery, depravity... greed).

Yours truly wears non matching
Buster Brown shoes and socks,
nevertheless I step off figurative soapbox
dodging any lobbed missiles or rocks,
no surprise bullied by same jocks,
who tormented me during high school
probably tattooed, pierced, and bald of locks
unlike yours truly, he sports quasi dreadlocks
as aging pencil neck geek feeling giddy
giving above inebriate of air spiel
quite alarmed as time ticks    
countdown approach to doomsday
when apocalypse harkened and heralded
courtesy atomic clocks.

Fifth commandment breached regularly
epidemic of gun violence in America
bullets fly, scream and tear into flesh
senseless rampant mass killings
rip across fabric of society
buzzfeeding, jump/kickstarting,
paradigm of mortality.

Since January first
two thousand and twenty three
countless innocent people lost lives
deliberately, yet randomly targeted
shot dead at point blank range
merely going about
their ordinary business.

No clear cut motive nor profile
delineates active shooter(s),
who could be either (or any) gender
and range in age
from grade school to septuagenarian.

The latest homicides woo,
and appease the grim reaper,
where gunman(men)/women slew
***** deeds done dirt cheap
many baker's dozen innocent people
unknowingly and unwittingly drew
(rather gurgled) their last breath
choking on splintered blood vessels
beckoning, issuing, and twittering minimal
horrific animal primal gasps and groans.

Adversarial criminal minds
finds yours truly to interject
reasonable parenthetical rhyme without reason,
thus I temporarily tack tangentially offtrack
with cogent concise contemplation
to extemporize, lyricize, and soliloquize
brutal nasty senselessness
perpetrated courtesy fearsome
half cocked pistol packing maniacs,
whereby evils unrelentingly replaying nightmare
(exceeding cruelty by magnitudes administered

courtesy rocky horror picture show)
of gruesome carnage broadcast across
social media platforms
of killing fields anew,
in the minds of those unfortunate souls
who bear witness to deadly crime,
where odd stark juxtaposition
elicit skeletal goldenrods yellowed stalks
adrip with morning mountain dew
encompassing fresh footprints,
where berserk humans

prowling in the tall grass
(them of naked ape infamous
zoological niche) lately trod
in search of human prey
welcomed unsuspecting killer(s) true
colors transformed into hideous monsters
predictably soothing savage beasts
undertakers grisly task patching
shredded bodies after homicidal maniac
fired bullet(s) setting corpse
recalibrating counting queue.

As month one of new year
(according to Chinese tradition
water rabbit constitutes animal de jure)
allows, enables, and provides
brisk business for crematoriums
or funeral parlors.

Whether native American citizen
or foreigner (perchance student) slain
survivors bereave and issue final adieu,
whether gentile nor Jew,
perhaps including
child named Caillou
instantaneously slain, who
knew
not what felled them
engrossed amidst social ballyhoo

ex post facto registering grievous hue
pallbearers accentuating somber view
eclipsing most recent prior massacres
similar to previous you
ululations reverberate yesterday's sorrows
without handy dandy blue's clue
lame motive explaining
cold blooded slaughter
vis a vis unsurprising discover re:
firearms Jane/ John Q.

Public kept stashed loaded, deployed...
guns up the kazoo
cocked, gauged, primed...
for unleaded opportunity
to unleash barrage
invariable generating hullabaloo
to curb ****** violence
trumpeting predictable brew
ha ha alloyed against National
Rifle Association almighty

elephant in the room courtesy hathi howdah  
supported lobbyist's motley crew
(think three ring circus)
versus increased uproar
protesters chorus nearly few
tile opposition pitted grand Poobah
despite alarming statistics shew
plus increasing fresh gravesites dug
amidst freshly mowed fescue
attesting to wanton shell shocked
headlines indiscriminate brew

tilly assaulting sensibilities
without rhyme nor reason
yet, yours truly doth boo
leave rampant hatred
directly linkedin to
former "FAKE" commander in chief,
(biden his time as patient hunter)
whose acrid, horrid, rabid vitriol
still darkly colors political hue
man gushing ****** fountainhead few

ming and appreciable frothing
lathers up right wing supremacists
greenlighting smoldering new
bile radicals hot headed
volatile mindset whereby
self anointed anarchistic Guru
possibly fuels global warming
evidenced by displaced Inuits
flooding courtesy melting igloo.

throw me a parade
and a grenade of hatred and doubt when we feed them to the cannibals of lowlife dangers in the dark slopes and haunted slums of the forgotten underbelly created by the occult masses and the fanatics of the long lost systematic cults with dogmatic practices of corruption and sedation of the free minds by ripping the flag from its bearers with synchronised laptop revolts of the internet denizens and masked protests of peaceful violence and anarchistic tendencies that bleeds in our city's soil.

let no filthy farm animals let loose to where its standing above the very platform of this newfound eden created by our favorite leash-holding pets of the substandard modern civilization , dethrone the oversized farmhouse parade that is spitting and gurgling pungent lies that burns the essence of our principle while committing intellectual suicide in front of national television. towering castles and metaphysical egos of the bureaucratic and nepotists shall forever be berated and shattered by rebellious criminals of the free spirit that liberates our digital humanity and internet anima to embrace our primal intuition for carnage and blissful destruction.

burn the rich, burn the oligarchs, burn the senate
burn the building, and burn the system
upset the holistic order and leave no stones unturned, leave no animals alive, and leave no grasses burnt to ash
let the entire country's foundation floored to dust

nothing to burn, nothing to fade from, nothing to create, nothing to value
only life
let man eat animals and animals eat money and watch who will survive.