Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Cunning Linguist Jun 2014
Most urgent:
First we debase this worthless currency,
To usher in impending new world order
Imprisoning the globe
Then bathed in ignorance
(
Fluoridation* retarding cognitive development)

More the merrier but I transcend borders
because my mind has no barriers
Spinning diction with volatile volition
Enchanting your brain into submission

A cheese-grater to the pineal gland
Inhibiting ability to dream,
Impassioned creativity &
inquisitiveness at an impasse,
Expertly contrasting
Inquisition with inability to produce
dimethyltriptamine
Because the pacified sheep
can't sleep away their passiveness
Mass devastation for the kids & family!

Slam it down with a gra(in/m) of (bath) salt
Better yet, sugar and McDonald's
Let Ronald wash your mind in city water
Dang, there's nothing outrageous
about meandering naked
Lusting to eating someone's face
these days, is there?
(Passed out on the asphalt)

Who bares the fault,
Who cares the most?
I know you planned it Mr. President,
take your nuclear launch codes
Atop your throne with your Zionist cohorts
Fake a breath, then flip the switch
Now you am become Death
3.  
2.  
1...
Default the planet

Where's your ******* conviction?
Digest my words and eat your fat *** to death Amerika

Mind your fate
The Devil's gates
Just a step away

So take the chip beneath skin
6 6 6
Pick up sticks,
Gather a whole bundle
& Light yourself on fire (******)

Crackpot conspiracy
How can you not see
Our country's interests inherently
sit in the pockets of Nazis?

Don't even get me started on television;
hypnotized sheep
mass-media gives me aneurysms
Is the Lord truly your shepherd
or do you always stumble so blindly?

Military-Industrial-Machine
Gobbling resources at breakneck speed
CONSUME CONSUME CONSUME
FAT CAPITALIST PIGS!!

You make me feel like vomiting.

Simply waiting for the bomb
to come bump uglies with the ***** of Babylon

NOW WATCH ME GET
~ULTRASONIC~
AS I DROP
ATOMIC ELBOWS
FROM THE TOP ROPE
TO THE THROAT
IN HOPES YOU CHOKE


Leaves a bad taste in your mouth,
did I tell a ***** joke?
(Haha-ha)
GARGLE SOAP *****,
YOUR LIFE'S HOPELESS

If you like beer & NASCAR gimme a hell yeah!*  (hell yeah!)
If you like bacon & pole-dancing gimme a hell yeah!

**** THIS REPUBLIC
DYSTOPIAN,
FLOWING WITH
NECRO-DESPOTISM
A COY ACT OF VENTRILOQUISM,
ON THE WORLD'S STAGE

Tangled like a marionette in its strings,
An insect in spiderwebs
Festering infection
Just keep using band-aids ;)

Take these cocktails
of famine, death, pestilence + plague
Questionably mixed with a little apathy
and self-delusion it's all the rage

The miasma of death
Clung and hung to their silhouettes
like cigarettes
The hands of the clock
tick-tocking away the seconds toward oblivion
In which I carry, reckless abandonment

*insert some wrath of God,
explosions of nuclear & biblical proportions,
then apportion some cataclysm
Sit back,
Listen to the wailing screams of panicking children
******* lay waste to this rock already,
this organic prison
And each and every organism
that dwells within it's ecosystems


All this to bring
A radical new utopia
not for you & me
but them, the Elite
and their heathen families


Behold a new dawn;
On the verge of 100% synthetic conversion
Mind, body, & soul as pawns
Data corrupted, perverted by total divergence
Illusion of free-will ruptured and gushing,
until microscopic then atrophied

Misanthropic singularity
Quantum computing
and nanotechnology
Existentially creating cyborg zombies
& Making gods rise from machines
Kinda deus ex machina style,
But nothing Isaac Asimov could machinate even in his wildest dreams

To me, a fitting end to humanity
The Great White Ape silently weeps
Still waiting for a Messiah
*a refined repost of an earlier draft

If this poem provokes interest I strongly recommend you research the long term effects of water fluoridation, the role it plays in calcification of the pineal gland, as well as the role it played in **** concentration camps.
The **** agenda is alive and well carried out in the 20-21st century through puppet America.
Society is the world's grandest pyramid scheme.
Open your mind, and open your eyes
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Paperclip
1.  Not knowing my future
2.  Owing money
3.  Trees being deforested

4.  My parents
5.  Youth unemployment

6.  Klu klux ****
7.  Usher being alive
8.  Stupidity being rampant.
9.  Her

10. Irregular heartbeats.
11. Time being a factor
12. Silly tings

13. Brain aneurysms
14. Losing
15. Empathy
16. Superman
17. Staying past due
18. Every one being rude
19. Discussion isn't important

Read the first letter of every word :^)
Ja feel

Also I actually like usher
zebra Jan 2019
the worm burps crasanthyums
like hypnic ****
matter becomes metaphor

thats how the beast works with in us
we are a book of masks
and i'm up to my neck in
mirrors of the marvelous

midnight music beguiles like a blizzard of whispers
flaming candles heat like ovens
burning finger by finger
i melt flabbergasted in dark linoleum clouds

blood gluttonous
tender bites
lips like red rain and trussed thighs
she grins
a face of needles and mice

i think she wants me

this old man, soggy eyed mop
linen wrapped
before aortic aneurysms
i'm a living tarot card
the falling tower and the lovers
break downs and break throughs

my groin a slobbering clot
dreaming ******* drenched
straight jacketed on her knees
***** willow shadows
drooling exacerbations
a caffeinated candy
licked thickly
twitching blinks; rem ejaculations

her face; a tattooed ****
**** mouth smiles
brown one eyed gnome
**** the stinking cyclops
*** talk lubricates
a raspberry crumble
looking for god

omniscient
even in *****

the white swans utterance
incoherence's
dressed in a ****** negligee
her belly a thousand ******* mouths
and i press into her thunder
shattering dawns gravity
a pinhole of empty cups
Francie Lynch Nov 2018
Birds don't rain down from heart attacks,
Or aneurysms: we should be waist high
In hundreds of millions of feathered bodies.
Where are they?
Not like us, who fall in the strangest places:
Stop signs, ball games, synagogues, schools.
And we cover them, step around them,
Chalk mark floors and sidewalks,
And eventually pick up the pieces.
But we can't perch on live wires,
Or fly between wind vanes.
Where are the bodies.
Domestic or feral.
Look to the sociocat,
Though innocent,
It prowls by nature.
david jm Oct 2014
On a serious note
I'm just playfighting God,
Ring around my iris
Flightless little bird,
Bereaved and slaughtered at a daffodil's foot.
Correct me if I'm right,
Sense was made without me here.
Into sleep I sink,
I can feel the brink approaching.
Stalking through aneurysms bane veil, Dripping dream and stink
and hope.
Blind, naive, native, childhood hope is all I am.
I'm living,
I'm livid,
I'm living,
I'm livid,
I'm living,
I'm livid.
Aristotle’s arrhythmic articulations
Appeared too apologetic for Aphrodite's amusements
Aroused by antisocial media’s alacritous abundance
Amidst arteriosclerosis and amphibiously obeisant Ophiuchus
Asclepius' ascendance was almost an abortion
Arrested by Apollo’s amorous attempts at aphrodisia
Ambidextrous Artemis’ androgynous appointments
Awakened ancient antipathies accentuating allopathic artifacts
Altercations arose among ambitious acolytes and Athena’s anorexic acidoses
Awkward Adonis actively agonized by alarming aneurysms
Allowed Antigone’s ambivalent armistice an aperture of acceptance  
Appointing an ambiguously appealing additive to the Argonauts
An anaerobic Acropolis arose amidst auto-****** asphyxiations
As Amazonian armpit hair advocates approved artificial insemination
Waverly Jan 2012
Sometimes you wonder
how things can get so ****** up,
this happens
whenever it's about time for you to come home
and I'm watching Sportscenter.

Bodies flashing across the screen.
Commercials.
People cheesing over paper towels so hard they could be having aneurysms.
More bodies moving faster than I'll ever move.

Just bodies.

I loved you so much, I thought about you all the time;
just hot with you.

now when you unlock the door
around 6 in the afternoon
and walk in jingling all your annoying jewelry
you sniff at me, audibly, as you huff to your room.

But I'm watching you like a tiger,
out of the periphery;
you're just a body to get by and get through.
Cunning Linguist Sep 2017
Muthafucka I squall,
**** with me.
Bawl so hard, aneurysms burst;
Call it apoplexy
Uh, ***** I rage!
With the squad in the whip
Yeah we goin places, ayye

Up to the trap.
Insert rap
Got the gwap
We in the kitchen cooking crack
I'm like assuh dude. Nomsayin?
This wordsmith, *****
I'm wild & sign my autographs with crayons

I'm stimulated got my face wrung.
Getting my sip on,
***** what the **** u trip on?
Ugh.

Worry about whats in my drink I'm lit for days son!
Its been a grip;
U Catch me slippin'
I'm out this *****,
Dont gotta stay long

Whip that yayo,
White like mayo,
Rhymes on fleek -
****** your fleet,
cops on my payroll

Sick of the same ol'
Every day yo.
PC ******, cut yourself
Mainline some Drano.

Fire to the rock, then I'm stone cold!
Slurrin my words;
Got the glock in my holster
Uh, & fam I'll flash my **** at your home girls.
No **** to give lit 24/7,
You want that beef I got it kosher (skrrr)

I got the sheets and the lotion
& the bud I got is om nom
U cause a stink, I got commotion
don't wanna face
that skunk ****,
That **** is potent

Mixed some jet fuel in my lean -
Now the fire I spit
Is hot enough
to melt through steel beams
Rap game's fake,
I devastate
March to the guillotine -

Don't hesitate its make or break
I smoke the dankest memes.

Ugh.. I'm 100 about that hanky-pank
uh. & U won't find me
where that loud pack ain't.
Pop these shots off
Go bang-bang
I rep these streets,
Bleed OG
Whilst floppin' my dang-lang.

You scream you got racks
But your ****'s old.
No slack you're broke -
***** whack bro.
You've sold your soul
Blood inks the contract tho
& I'm Diablo.

Headfirst,
Victims from this wicked verse
Burst into flames
Inside this wretched furnace
Super earnest,
This my sermon,
Y'all gon learn this
I'm that serpent
******' sinister minister
Mr.-*******-Your-Sister
I slither in it a little
Now I'm in utero, for real tho

Til I'm old and withered,
And my body's brittle
With a 40,
I'm in my underwear
Wheelchairin' round
Screaming
I am the liquor!

It dont get no sicker,
So just come bump to this -
All the uglies in the world
To violate with my fists.
Fulfilling all my deepest
Darkest wishes

I'm vicious.
Some say I'm savage;
Wreaking havoc,
Combustion proliferating the madness -
Ashes to ashes
As the blunt makes some passes
2 lit 4 life
consciousness starts to lapse fam

Faded/

Stay lit through the day trip
Not enough,
where the plug is?
Attractin' wealth
stack em hundreds
Slander me hold your tongue,
***** 'fore I cut it...
fresh prince, catch my lil' smith
im going west son,
railing through the clips
get rekt'd check your privilege
White as ****, zen master flux
**** I'm killin it Reid-Dickless.
Quit your *******', I'm in the kitchen whippin' it chu see the flick of the wrist?

My attempt at being intentionally dumb af/mainstream rap nowadays
Tonight's evening dead lesson, 1 ice pick puncture & a pound of tar
to compound the mental problems of Nick's bro Mike, the last Czar
This evening's dead lesson, 4 ice pick wounds & a tin bucket of tar,
poured into a chest infection torn open by the odd flippin' of my car
Matalie Niller Sep 2012
Creamy and warm
your thoughts
like a swirl of make believe beauty
I wonder
do I fit into the equation?
That perfection of neural impulses
your mind
do I meet the requirements
to swim in your stream of consciousness
convulse to your heartbeat
love you
like you were
greater than yet equal to
me?
I wish I could answer for you
say "yes"
with more certainty on my lips
than moments I have spent
thinking, longing
for your reciprocated desire
not merely physical,
though that would be nice too,
but for your desire to know me
like you know of your own existence
and to continue wanting that knowledge
once it has been realized-
every day
every second
more and more
until we get love- filled aneurysms
slow and steady
becoming nothing
together.
Boris Cho Nov 11
Nearly five years ago, I made the difficult choice to leave a toxic and abusive marriage, a decision that came after realizing, through therapy, that the relationship had never truly served me. For years, I had cared for someone unable to care for themselves, losing parts of myself in the process. This choice took its toll; mentally, physically, and financially; but it was necessary.

I remember telling myself, “I don’t want to be here in five years, stuck in misery and pain.” Now, as those five years draw to a close, I stand as proof of my promise to prioritize happiness; not just for my sake, but for my daughter, who means more to me than life itself. Despite enduring the trials of losing an eye, battling shingles, and surviving two brain aneurysms, I have emerged stronger, healthier, and more grounded than ever before. My resilience is rooted in a deep determination for growth, and in the boundless strength my daughter gives me. She is my constant source of inspiration, my reminder of life’s quiet wonders. Even though she is with me 60% of the time, her presence fills my world completely, showing me; through her compassion, empathy, and curiosity; how to embrace the beauty in every moment we share.

There was a time when she was taken from me while I worked relentlessly to create a stable life for her. I sacrificed time and sleep, fought through my darkest hours, all with one aim: to build a future in which she could thrive. Each sacrifice, each sleepless night, was worth it to hold her close once again.

From the day she was born, I vowed to give her my best, to live up to my full potential as both her father and her friend. And I continue to fulfill that vow every day, cherishing every moment we spend together, knowing that our time is the most valuable thing I have. I take pride in watching her grow into a wonderfully creative soul, a lover of animals, nature, and crafting. She brings so much light into my life, and it’s because of who she is that this journey as a single parent has felt lighter. She has made it easier; not through words, but through the way she simply exists, with a joyful spirit and quiet wisdom that has guided me as much as I have guided her.

There’s an unspoken beauty in how we parent each other, even in moments when we’re not aware of it. She has taught me patience, resilience, and the importance of seeing the world with wonder. Together, we have made homes in new places, and each time, she has helped turn those spaces into sanctuaries, filled with love, laughter, and creativity. No matter where life takes us, I know that home will always be where we are together.

Being a single father has been the greatest gift of my life. It hasn’t been easy, but it has been worth every challenge. Together, we’ve weathered the storms of separation and divorce, always finding our way back to each other, stronger. As I continue to watch her grow, I find myself in awe of the person she’s becoming. And I will be here, by her side, in every step of her journey, just as she has unknowingly been there for me on mine.



Five years ago, I chose the way,
To leave the dark and find the day.
Through struggles deep and through strain,
I found my strength, and peace from pain.

In those many years, nothing felt quite right,
And so I left behind the sleepless nights.
Through deep darkness and trials long,
I found my strength, where I belong.

Her laughter lifts, her spirit shows,
In every moment, love still grows.
Her eyes reflect the world so true,
In her, I see all that we do.

We craft, we build, and shape our days,
In nature’s hands, where beauty stays.
She teaches me, though unaware,
In every smile, in every care.

Together, bound by love so tight,
We’ve turned our challenges to light.
In her, I find my greatest part;
My daughter, friend, my guiding heart.

— Sincerely, Boris
Chris D Aechtner Nov 2021
Snowflakes drape the violets—
a splash of how the human spirit
can be, personified.

The pale faces and minds dangle
on the precipice where the lost begin

and end themselves.

I sense their impending strokes,
aneurysms, Myocarditis,
failing immune systems, acquiredautoimmunodeficiencysyndromes,
sterilization, and aggressive cancers
loom on the horizon
of the frozen ground of their minds.
I sense the digital serpent coiled
in their ribosomes and nuclei.

"Which brand did you choose?"

Choose? A momentary inner wince
is contained in polished discipline.

"I don't need to take your shots,
I've been selected to slither through
the polygon window."

Lackluster irises reflect the violets
that bounce to hits of heavy, wet snow fall,
their petals open to the waning light

in defiance.

"You rolled over like *******,
brag over begging for more."

It soars over his head like the dark,
pregnant snowclouds roiling above
us.

Hopefully, only 7 years remain
of watching people **** themselves
and their loved ones in denatured
cowardice and mindless obedience—
enough to appease the hyper-capitalist
bloodlust for progress and ignorance.
I can survive 12—7 years will be
enough horror and tragedy
to fill lifetimes.

Don't speak of that for 14 years,
and don't speak of this for 7 years.
Don't ever mention OPERATION F,
and only mention Project D
without disclosing Appendix A & B. In
3 years, that is.

Yes, Master.

Hopefully, enough of the cowards
and mindlessly obedient **** themselves
and each other during the next 7 years

in order for the poor and the meek
to inherit the Earth—push through
the snow in defiance,

sow the spark and glow
of human spirit and nature
in the garden once again.
Rough draft, 11 14 2021


https://www.scirp.org/journal/paperinformation.aspx?paperid=81838
charmaine Mar 2017
the world scares me, health alerts and studies from scientists who tell you water is no good for the brain, but wine and alcohol may make you smarter. BREAKING every 25 seconds from some idiot who doesn't even pay taxes, but can cut funding from people who need to eat while he eats horses smaller than me. Looking up remedies for headaches, but I am instead given symptoms of aneurysms and malignant brain tumors.

the world scares me, terrorists ruined flying so now everyone gets molested. the poor and middle class are best friends now with them trading spaces and hiding in plain sight. Protests that change rulings but doesn't change people, and people who only want to be seen and heard but offer nothing worth hearing.

the world annoys me, its condescendingness. Humans who believe themselves superior to the animals they learned to procreate from. Mother Nature sending out several warnings for an impending doom not knowing most of us are praying for it. the few humans who care about this world, suffer the most. The chiefs and activists who work for nothing but peace, and end up with wars.

the world destroyed me. it made me hate everything, even myself. i blame it for its ability in creating the world's most crappiest people to the world's most beautiful. i blame it for wiping the smile of children's faces. i blame it for allowing me to hurt myself and others in more ways than one. i blame it for allowing me to hate people who love me and love people who wouldn't spit on me if i was on fire.

the world scares me and i would like a do over.
Boris Cho Nov 18
At 41, having lived through various transitions; born in São Paulo, immigrating to Canada at the age of five, growing up in an often unhappy home, enduring a long and difficult marriage that ended in divorce, and now raising my nine-year-old daughter as a single father; I’ve been compelled to reflect on what it means to grow older with grace. Life has already taught me the weight of loss and the fragility of existence: the loss of my left eye to glaucoma, the two brain aneurysms I survived, and the heartache that comes from broken relationships. Yet, these experiences have not only scarred me; they’ve also shaped me.

I’ve come to realize that aging gracefully isn’t simply about the outward appearance or clinging to youth. It’s a deeper reckoning with time, a quiet acceptance of the changes within and around us. As I navigate the complexities of midlife, I’ve learned to approach each day with a sense of purpose, embracing the wisdom that pain often brings and the clarity that loss can sharpen.

Key to this journey is self-awareness, particularly in how I care for my body and soul. Holistic health is more than diet and exercise; it’s about the harmonization of mind, body, and spirit. I’ve learned to nourish myself in ways that go beyond the physical; through meaningful relationships, through a spiritual practice that keeps me grounded, and through creating space for silence and reflection. These days, my focus is not on controlling the inevitable changes but on responding to them with patience and reverence.

There’s also a new sense of responsibility as a single father. My daughter, with her innocence and resilience, reminds me daily that aging is not a solitary journey. In her eyes, I see the future and feel a renewed sense of purpose to lead by example; showing her how to navigate challenges, how to face setbacks with dignity, and how to love herself even when the world may not.

Aging, I’ve come to understand, is a dance with time. It’s a gradual shedding of the layers we no longer need; old hurts, limiting beliefs, attachments to things that do not serve us. And in this shedding, I’ve found moments of peace. Life has slowed in ways I didn’t expect, and the urgency of youth has softened into a steadier, quieter ambition.

While I continue to work hard; whether for my health, my career, or as a parent; I’ve begun to appreciate the importance of balance. Each morning, I strive to listen to what my body needs, to be more forgiving to myself when I fall short, and to practice gratitude for the moments of connection I share with my daughter, my family, and my close circle of friends.

The art of aging, for me, lies not in denying the process but in leaning into it with grace. It’s about cultivating inner peace in the face of life’s uncertainties, finding joy in simplicity, and embracing the profound beauty in the act of becoming. It’s about loving deeply and living authentically, despite the scars and the struggles. My journey may have been fraught with hardship, but it has also been rich with learning, growth, and the unshakable belief that, even in the midst of it all, there is grace to be found.



An aging mentor, in fading grace,
With wisdom etched upon his face,
He speaks of life, of love, and pain,
As time slips by, like autumn rain.

A student comes, week after week,
To listen close, to hear him speak,
Of work, and loss, and growing old,
Of tender truths, both harsh and bold.

The body weakens, fails, decays,
Yet stronger still, the heart conveys,
That wealth is found in those we love,
In ties below and hopes above.

He teaches not to chase the gold,
But seek the warmth that hands can hold,
In fleeting time, find joy and grace,
For death, in life, we all must face.

Through parting words and final breath,
He shows the way to conquer death:
In giving love, we learn to live,
And find in loss, the strength to give.

— Sincerely, Boris
Tyler King Aug 2015
X
Ash buried graveyards what sick thoughts I have of you on these nights,
These nights where I dream of love and hope to die in my sleep
The sky falls vivid and streaked with incendiary demise and I keep steady the best I can under the weight of total collapse
But here the dead bare the weight of suns within their broken chests and I am still hung up on my same belltower clockwork systematic *******
Awake, remember, sleep, forget
Purgatory cycles in ash tray limbo wrapped in the tea leaves of misplaced fortunes
Irreverent shadows tripping lucid dream aneurysms down both ends of the block
And ******* fathers moving dope from greed to desperation to section 8 prisons
The headlines on the marquee monoliths read:
"There is nowhere to go but up"
And this is the junkies last thought before he trails off into the sweet kiss of sunset
This is the last thought I have before I put down the pen and lie to myself that I've done the best I could
What did you expect, honestly?
Satsih Verma Jun 2018
A bruise has appeared―
where you had kissed me,
last night. O Miranda―
I am not going for any other moon.

Like Uranus, I bleed
in my eyes; from every pore.
Astraphobia― I am going to
stay in dark.

This theology of aneurysms?
Who was hoodwinking
the ancient gods in the battle
of murderous themes? My hands
start shaking.

A blue rash spreads.
In honeyed voice you invoke
your angel and seek blessings―
before you go for a ****.
Boris Cho Nov 17
I am fortunate to have been given a second chance at life. After experiencing the same persistent headache every night for five consecutive days, I recognized that something was not right. Upon arriving at the hospital, the staff noticed a concerning spike in my blood pressure, prompting a CT scan of my brain.

The results revealed the presence of two aneurysms, and the medical team needed to determine whether they were ruptured or hemorrhaged. After three painful attempts at a spinal tap, I insisted that the surgeon take over. Unfortunately, the procedure confirmed my worst fears; there was blood in the cerebrospinal fluid, indicating a hemorrhage. Faced with the grim reality of being given only a one-in-three chance of survival, I was urged to contact my family. In that moment, my thoughts were consumed by my daughter, brother, and sister; my entire world.

I awoke two days post-surgery and spent the next fourteen days recovering in the hospital. This harrowing experience profoundly altered my perspective, illuminating the areas of my life that I had neglected; my mental, physical, and spiritual health. I was forced to confront a haunting possibility: a future where my daughter would grow up without me by her side. The weight of that realization was overwhelming.

I am grateful to be here today, having narrowly escaped what felt like my expiration date last April. My daughter and I cherish every moment together, and I approach life with renewed purpose. Since my recovery, I have navigated the complexities of life, experiencing love, heartbreak, and the joys of watching my daughter thrive in fourth grade. I have been rediscovering the beauty of my city and striving to prioritize my well-being through healthier choices that benefit my mind, body, and soul.

Yet, I live with the awareness that I am on borrowed time; a gift not everyone receives. Each day feels like an undeserved grace, a reminder that life is fleeting and precious, and I will never take a moment for granted. This journey has pushed me to not just survive, but to thrive with intention. I am proud of the inner work I have embraced: mindfulness, meditation, journaling, and writing poetry, each practice helping me deepen my understanding of self and guiding me toward emotional clarity. I’ve rekindled my love for reading, finding solace and inspiration in the written word once more. And physically, I’ve committed myself to healthier living; nourishing my body through balanced nutrition and daily exercise.

This dedication to my mental and physical health has been transformative. It is a testament to my resilience and to the hard-fought battles I wage daily to become the best version of myself. I am proud of the progress I have made, and I honor this borrowed time by continuing to grow, knowing that every breath, every step forward, is a victory.



I walk among the living, yet I feel
the dark of those who left, who lean in close,
their soft whispers like petals falling.
The day of death; today, I feel them near,
those gone and yet alive in every breath I take.

They know I stood close, brushed the calm brink,
my life offered, a fragile cord severed,
but then, stitched back with thread of borrowed breath.
They gave me seconds spun from their own stillness,
a kindness of the dead to the dying.

In their silence, I hear a call to love and live,
Not with the fury of a man cheated from death,
but with the gentleness of one held tenderly
by unseen faces, those who walk the other side,
yet send their light across to warm my face.

I am a guest here, held by the mercy of the lost,
a witness who owes his heartbeat to their generosity.
For every hour given, I bow to them, thankful.
In each sunrise, I see them wink from the shadows,
their gift of borrowed time; a vow I carry forward.

— Sincerely, Boris
Boris Cho Nov 20
As I navigate through life, I am increasingly aware of the deep connection between living and dying. Each moment serves as a reminder that everything is temporary, urging me to seek the truths within myself.

Facing the possibility of death due to two brain aneurysms was a turning point for me. The thought of having only a one-third chance of surviving surgery forced me to confront my fears directly. I realized that death is not merely an ending; it can also be a gateway to something new. This experience opened my eyes to the importance of embracing every moment and the love I share with those around me.

During my recovery, I reflected on my life in a way I never had before. I encountered vivid memories and emotions that mirrored my thoughts and actions, revealing the depth of my journey. I learned that dying is a transition, a sacred opportunity for change. With each breath, I strive to cultivate awareness and find clarity amid the noise and chaos.

I began to appreciate love and compassion more than ever, understanding that these feelings connect me to everyone else. My actions impact the world around me, emphasizing our shared existence.

I am learning to accept that life and death are part of a continuous cycle; a journey of growth and renewal. By accepting this flow, I have opened myself to new possibilities and deeper understanding. I have found peace in the realization that, despite the uncertainties, life is a precious gift that I cherish every day.



In the quiet of the mind, I find clarity,
Life and death intertwined, both a single path.
In the bardo, I encounter my fears,
Illusions dissolve as awareness arises.

Compassion guides me through the unknown,
Love transcends the boundaries of self.
Each moment is a lesson in letting go,
Embracing impermanence, I find freedom.

As I awaken, I see the cycle of rebirth,
In every ending, a new beginning unfolds.
With each breath, I cultivate presence,
And in stillness, I connect with all that is.

— Sincerely, Boris
When knowing a man who emigrates through the hemispheres, who dialogues with his senses, that he gets tired as if marasmus were overtaking him, contravening his health, and his odorifying need leads him to balance, but an insane frenzy stigmatized any reasoning by not enjoying his style of life. It is continually said that he wants to be a witness to his existence but does not approve of leaving him, subdued by his psychiatric condition. Let hatred remain numb, and perhaps I will not let go of having a living companion close by. What God Make his power trustworthy, and not only in misfortunes go to the union of forces, in the worrying mutuality of help, of the nascent good of the origin and not grant it in administration to the wealth of weak and innocent brains. And I, who still sharpen my flooded will, who more defensively underlies his aneurysms, barricading the escapes towards a worse evil, perhaps relentlessly I will prosecute myself or ****** me away. Motivated is my perfection and not the contraction of the wandering humanities. This world of orates is an aesthetic world of theirs, now that I know not to belong to the singularity, I will calmly know how to alienate myself more, and if I am to be evil, I will ride the Leviathan or the enemy of Ahab's wooded foot, so that together with them in the confinement he goes in search of stimulation and thus appears among them before the same madness. I raise my neck in fear to see the frightened rabbit, fleeing by the fire emanating from the dragon shotgun, as if he saw myself reflected in him so defenseless and unable to wander through his extensive and own habitat, clean of the superior beasts, delaying the greatness expressive of my freedom, of my recognized and predictable meaning, because if my legs feel like thin rows, I can use my arms with confidence, just like the dog run over in the Prehistoric Park.

After a few nights of wakefulness and being immersed in a ****** battle, he makes a preamble to the pain, which is his physical lumbalgy and lithiasis. The psychological pain makes his fingers entangle as if holding them back so as not to bind the fork to his eyes and not also incur in cooling his brain with high doses of alcohol. Because Libídine's troops are ready to set sail and dilate and cause baseness rage, and confusion, which reveals nothing other than being very vain, like discarding the feces. Dizzy is the drunk, destroying neurons with the saline dendrites circulating in his adult body, taking the healthy infantile body away from him. In a strong need to open his eyes, he abruptly comes out of the animistic scholastic dream, where his patriarch the subconscious shares in the awakening and retaining operation of learning. He finally woke up alive and last night if he slept. The morning light spontaneously passed the sclera, and like a very light feather, it rose with its usual companion leaves on his back; calling them ... my sheets!

Another majestic and sunny day greeted him, and the birds that fled to the south, came back inviting rejoicing, inviting happiness, the immortal joy of not being locked in loneliness and bitterness for a long time, but that this hommo in its violence will depend on nature and what each bird carries around the world in Mission of Peace. I know that within the captivity that I endure my conscience has experienced, the same hell enveloping my whole being on the edge of the cliff, where I will fall and float in the burning breath of the flames.I know well that neither countless myths nor superstitions will elucidate the torrent of guttural and non-guttural voices, and those that come from the nucleic experimentations of the origin of the voices that seek outlets to expel them. When he ate with great vigor, he felt his super-manhood emerge, which made his yearning for freshness and power arrive, as if only knowing that he was very strong in every way and very perceptive. Ludwig says that there is nothing to hide, so he will take advantage of going out, and this time he will do it in the direction of Lake Calypso, where he recreated the view of him, and why not, he will share with another homogeneous to his intentions. This will shorten the time left to see his Antoinette, and that her sculpture will hydrate the emotions vexed by Debra's ingratitude, even though she was a passenger on his trip. Her stay at the Lake was serene and with an even climate, that is, the legacy of a good Christian was transmitted by the light of the lights that illuminate the planetary Earth. Ludwig shortened time and at the same time the possession of his spirit, which was the multivalent relic that reached wherever his thought wanted to go because he was gifted in projecting beyond his borders; his consistent body and feeling comfortable with himself and what surrounds him in that beautiful Lake. In the lakeside places of the Earth, none of them should cause him the same pleasure, as has happened with his pupils that, ticklish with laziness, fall into a sleep that he did not expect ...:

The Dream

“The high dome of the Abbey, where the symbolic cross dominates with ******* and authority, is the panorama, where the date or the day is not known. This Abbey can be seen from any point of the Orb, where its architecture delivers the grandiose mystical profile, full of wonder and exaltedness. He is walking along the bay, almost in the final twilight. The night is the darkening stain that suggests relaxation shock, and fatigue; a Mystery of the same feeling of shelter, of the sea cold that also suggests the multiple verbal messages of the Sea and the sky. Where Selene's sparkles bring millions of messages to the plasma, and that it receives them gracefully with dilated and flabby pores. He continues to walk among the crowds that perhaps throw themselves at the brights of the Moon or the stars, or at the artificiality of their belongings. When suddenly the Abbey reddens from the base to the cross, radiating light beyond its profile, until in a short time it became flaming ripples --- Ludwig said What heat ... it's impressive ...!, but something has to be done, I can't stay like this. Not very high from the cross, a few meters away, a pale light turned, with great force that was supposed to have some connection with the burning fire of the holy Abbey. And that light always revolved with the tendency to go out of its orbit, and with unequaled evil to incinerate the Ecological City, his beloved city, where for the first time he saw the light. And so the evil sleeping pill happened, an unknown light left its orbit in the direction of the sea, falling on the dense aquatic mantle. While Ludwig ran without direction, others did it with panic and tremulousness, they were right because from the dense water a ship emerged with crew members who were only exterminated and nobody could escape, not even the most pious, nor the strongest, nobody escaped from the radios exterminating shots. But Ludwig remained unharmed, he saw that the Abbey did not burn, on the contrary, it was reestablished. Looking at the sea he watched the slaughter of those beings, exterminating everything, absolutely everything. Through the middle part of the hills of the city he was still running, perhaps as the only survivor. Saying ...: “I must have caught some baseball bats lying around. Who knows if I would ****** some moment of death and fight with him to save myself, but that was not, and what I carry in my hands is the invisible weapon, the hopeful weapon, or the surprising luck. But the inhabitants of the Photoprism continued their destruction, and the nocturnal black was seen as the hemochrome of callous bursts of dread. Only some voices said what only the pain allowed them to say, placed in the center of the suffering with the unknown of not understanding death and all the derivations. Today the deadly Photoprisma, killed the lives of those who possessed it, as if wanting to ambition the bay and the Abbey, and it seems that these are not the only ones in the Ecological City, but that there is more than the land itself that the light did not disintegrate. Later it dawned, leaving the ravages of the Photoprism drag. It vanished as it appeared, threatening to appear in another magnetic field ... Ludwig walked confused, but safe and sound ... "

When in the dream he became light, in the Calypso Lake the air-cooled that later awakened his dream. Upon coming out of sleep and lying very relaxed in the lake that nurtured him, he was able to contain the murderous attitude that lived in him, and that greatly confused the love he felt from him towards others whom he would smile and caress him. Even his being forgave the men of the Photoprisma, but no matter how affectionate he felt, he would still be lost, and like everyone who is self-esteem he wanted to tell someone what he had dreamed of. He says ...: Debra, Debra ... Where are you ...? Why do I like to see you ...?, I think his body is beautiful, his beautiful lineage, his proportionate *******, they are of a true muse. And now that I try to communicate with her and with my philosophy, I see that by the long or short way I will reach her, and even if it is simplistic Debra, I will want to visit her and extend my hand with everything the heat accumulated towards her, like that of the puppies and her owner.

So the motionless waves keep her passionate love a secret and do not lose position so I will always have a wish in good anathemas to deliver. Perhaps the messenger that I look for in myself will be the thought that manages to bring Debra closer to subtract her true humanity from me and me from her. And the resignation spirit that exists in me today is how she died indefiniteness. It is the spell of man to men who do not forget what is important.
Weirdly Emigrate Chapter V
Big Virge Jun 2021
So It’s Clear That I’m...
A Poetic HEAVY HITTER... !!!

Because My Rhymes...
Hit HARDER Than ******... !!!

See What I Mean... !!!

I Hit Ya Like Mike...
Did To Yup... Mitch Green... !!!

So... That’s Right...
Just Like Mike Tyson...
My Ferocity Is FRIGHTENING...
When It Comes To Poetic Writings... !!!

That Are DARK Just Like The SHINING... !!!

NO Nicholson Or Simpletons...
Can Hit Ya Like The Diction...
In Things That I Have Written... !!!

From End Back To Beginning...
My Wordplay Is HARD HITTING... !!!

It’s CLEVER, SHARP And Deals In...
… EXPOSING Societal Villains... !!!

So YES Is UNFORGIVING...
When It Comes To Criticisms...
That Big Virge Verse Be Giving...
To... ALL These Politicians... !!!

Whose Policies Are Driven...
To Cause Human Division...

And Visions That Have QUICKENED...
The Loss of Life For CHILDREN... !?!
Because of Guns And AMMUNITION...
That Send Some Youth To Prisons... !!!

BEFORE They’ve Found Positions...
Where They Can Make A Living...
That DOESN'T Deal In KILLING... !!!

Like Historical Colonialism...
That Western States Like Britain...
Used Like BRAIN ANEURYSMS... !!!

To Leave A World of VICTIMS...
In Various GLOBAL Regions... !!!

A Legacy That’s WEAKENED...
And Caused Human Submission... !!!

To A Mission So Hard Hitting...
That Many Now Are Living...
In A World of REAL Pulp Fiction... !!!

WITHOUT Any Shepherds...
To Teach HARSH Lessons...
To Heads Still Attempting...
To Maintain Oppression... !!!

While Me I’m UPSETTING... !!!
Through The Usage of Letters...
Like... Lee Scratch Perry Fellas... !!!

Cos’ I’m NO PRETENDER...
Or... Cellared Marcellus... !!!

I Hit Like HENDRIX' Playing A FENDER..................
STRAT That Attacks Like The Best Rock Tracks... !!!

Or Societal Raps That Are FAR From WHACK... !!!
Because They Deal In FACTS That Crack The Backs...
of Crackers And Slackers And Racist Attackers... !!!!!!!!!!!

That’s Right Like Police And Political Fiends...
Who Hit Ya Like FREAKS... !!!
... Know What I Mean... !!!

While Me I Come STRAIGHT...
With The Type of Wordplay...
That UPSETS These Strays... !!!

Who’ve Embraced A New Age...
of... CANCEL Brigades... !!!

Who Seem To Be Dishing...
MORE Than... Criticisms... !?!

They’re DESTROYING Peoples’ Livings... !?!
Because What Once Was HIDDEN...
Is Now Something Positioned...
To Be On... Televisions...
And Fed To Very Young Children... !!!

Like **** Paedophiles Be Giving...
To Boys And Yes Young Women...

That Should Now Be Forbidden...
Like Visions of... RACISM... !!!

So That’s Why I Now Write These Rhymes...
Because These Days I’m SICKENED... !!!

By MUCH That I’m Now Seeing...
From This New Virus Season... !!!

From... Sambos' Now In Vision...
That’s Right These Blacks Are WICKED... !!!
And Really Need DISMISSING... !!!

From Politics CONDITIONED...
By Modern... COLONIALISM... !!!

That Line Is One For THINKING... !!!
NOT For The Ones IMPRISONED... !!!

Because They DO NOT LISTEN... !!!

PAY ATTENTION Or Do READING...
On Those Who Now Are LEADING...
Until Their Position’s WEAKENED... !!!

Because of LIES They’re Feeding...
In All Their Public Speeches... !!!

It’s A DIFFERENT Type of FEATURE...
That Now Needs MORE Than SCREENING... !!!

Their Houses NEED DEEP CLEANING... !!!
Which Is Why This Verse Your Reading...

Is A... Lyrical Algorithm...
That Is Built To Be HARD HITTING... !!!

Because UNLIKE All of These Shape Shifters...
My Words Confirm That I’m A MAJESTIC POETIC...

Wordplay......

..... “ HEAVY HITTER “..... !!!
This thing I now am.
Apricot kernels is the cure for cancer? Au contraire! Apricot kernels abound in hydrocyanic acid! Hydrocyanic acid in its industrial form is prussic acid (a druggist prudently refused to sell prussic acid to Lizzy Borden); prussic acid as a fumigation agent against typhus it was commercially marketed as Zyklon B and used in concentration camps throughout Europe during the second world war. Incidentally, apricot kernels cure sickle cell anemia; apricot kernels moderate blood pressure. AND polystyrene, commercially marketed as Styrofoam, is known as ****** & ****** B when sprayed on the hapless citizens of Vietnam, Laos, Thailand, Japan, Iraq, Afghanistan  & Cambodia.

✪✪✪ ALL Facebook cancer sites are pity parties. People are beat down by a disease that afflicted 3% of the American citizenry in A.D. 1900 to a projected 50% by year 2020. A fact that few people know: a cancer patient who dies from an opportunistic infection during immunologically-suppressive chemico-/radio-/cryo-ablative "therapies" is statistically a cancer-treatment success story. Currently cardiovascular disease & cancer alternate as #1 & #2 in regards to leading causes of death. Unsurprisingly, folks who succumb to heart attacks, aneurysms & strokes had cancer while those who died of cancer were cardiac patients taking prescribed blood thinners & statins. It's a mad dash to the grave between these 2 diseases of malnutrition.
Grey hair is a failing. Grey hair is a sign of trouble. Grey hair, varicose veins, hemorrhoids, crows' feet, aneurysms, hemorrhagic strokes (apoplexy) & sagging skin are signs of copper deficiency. A lack of copper causes the blood vessels to lose elasticity.

— The End —