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
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
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?

Gobbling resources at breakneck speed

You make me feel like vomiting.

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


Leaves a bad taste in your mouth,
did I tell a ***** joke?

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


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
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
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.
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

even in *****

the white swans utterance
dressed in a ****** negligee
her belly a thousand ******* mouths
and i press into her thunder
shattering dawns gravity
a pinhole of empty cups
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.
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.
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
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
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?

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.

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
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
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


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
Ellie Jun 2017
Brian Doyle, who died on May 27, considers the capacity of the heart

Consider the hummingbird for a long moment. A hummingbird’s heart beats ten times a second. A hummingbird’s heart is the size of a pencil eraser. A hummingbird’s heart is a lot of the hummingbird. Joyas voladoras, flying jewels, the first white explorers in the Americas called them, and the white men had never seen such creatures, for hummingbirds came into the world only in the Americas, nowhere else in the universe, more than three hundred species of them whirring and zooming and nectaring in hummer time zones nine times removed from ours, their hearts hammering faster than we could clearly hear if we pressed our elephantine ears to their infinitesimal chests.

Each one visits a thousand flowers a day. They can dive at sixty miles an hour. They can fly backwards. They can fly more than five hundred miles without pausing to rest. But when they rest they come close to death: on frigid nights, or when they are starving, they retreat into torpor, their metabolic rate slowing to a fifteenth of their normal sleep rate, their hearts sludging nearly to a halt, barely beating, and if they are not soon warmed, if they do not soon find that which is sweet, their hearts grow cold, and they cease to be. Consider for a moment those hummingbirds who did not open their eyes again today, this very day, in the Americas: bearded helmet-crests and booted racket-tails, violet-tailed sylphs and violet-capped woodnymphs, crimson topazes and purple-crowned fairies, red-tailed comets and amethyst woodstars, rainbow-bearded thornbills and glittering-bellied emeralds, velvet-purple coronets and golden-bellied star-frontlets, fiery-tailed awlbills and Andean hillstars, spatuletails and pufflegs, each the most amazing thing you have never seen, each thunderous wild heart the size of an infant’s fingernail, each mad heart silent, a brilliant music stilled.

Hummingbirds, like all flying birds but more so, have incredible enormous immense ferocious metabolisms. To drive those metabolisms they have race-car hearts that eat oxygen at an eye-popping rate. Their hearts are built of thinner, leaner fibers than ours. Their arteries are stiffer and more taut. They have more mitochondria in their heart muscles—anything to gulp more oxygen. Their hearts are stripped to the skin for the war against gravity and inertia, the mad search for food, the insane idea of flight. The price of their ambition is a life closer to death; they suffer more heart attacks and aneurysms and ruptures than any other living creature. It’s expensive to fly. You burn out. You fry the machine. You melt the engine. Every creature on earth has approximately two billion heartbeats to spend in a lifetime. You can spend them slowly, like a tortoise and live to be two hundred years old, or you can spend them fast, like a hummingbird, and live to be two years old.

The biggest heart in the world is inside the blue whale. It weighs more than seven tons. It’s as big as a room. It is a room, with four chambers. A child could walk around it, head high, bending only to step through the valves. The valves are as big as the swinging doors in a saloon. This house of a heart drives a creature a hundred feet long. When this creature is born it is twenty feet long and weighs four tons. It is waaaaay bigger than your car. It drinks a hundred gallons of milk from its mama every day and gains two hundred pounds a day, and when it is seven or eight years old it endures an unimaginable puberty and then it essentially disappears from human ken, for next to nothing is known of the the mating habits, travel patterns, diet, social life, language, social structure, diseases, spirituality, wars, stories, despairs and arts of the blue whale. There are perhaps ten thousand blue whales in the world, living in every ocean on earth, and of the largest animal who ever lived we know nearly nothing. But we know this: the animals with the largest hearts in the world generally travel in pairs, and their penetrating moaning cries, their piercing yearning tongue, can be heard underwater for miles and miles.

Mammals and birds have hearts with four chambers. Reptiles and turtles have hearts with three chambers. Fish have hearts with two chambers. Insects and mollusks have hearts with one chamber. Worms have hearts with one chamber, although they may have as many as eleven single-chambered hearts. Unicellular bacteria have no hearts at all; but even they have fluid eternally in motion, washing from one side of the cell to the other, swirling and whirling. No living being is without interior liquid motion. We all churn inside.

So much held in a heart in a lifetime. So much held in a heart in a day, an hour, a moment. We are utterly open with no one in the end—not mother and father, not wife or husband, not lover, not child, not friend. We open windows to each but we live alone in the house of the heart. Perhaps we must. Perhaps we could not bear to be so naked, for fear of a constantly harrowed heart. When young we think there will come one person who will savor and sustain us always; when we are older we know this is the dream of a child, that all hearts finally are bruised and scarred, scored and torn, repaired by time and will, patched by force of character, yet fragile and rickety forevermore, no matter how ferocious the defense and how many bricks you bring to the wall. You can brick up your heart as stout and tight and hard and cold and impregnable as you possibly can and down it comes in an instant, felled by a woman’s second glance, a child’s apple breath, the shatter of glass in the road, the words I have something to tell you, a cat with a broken spine dragging itself into the forest to die, the brush of your mother’s papery ancient hand in the thicket of your hair, the memory of your father’s voice early in the morning echoing from the kitchen where he is making pancakes for his children.
Brian Doyle- 1945-2012. This story was shown to me by my high school lit teacher and it inspired me to write my first short story. Maybe I'll post it one day
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.
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 ****.

— The End —