"anthrax" poems
I need a shot of something strong-
(anthrax?)
'cause I have too much passion for distraction
thought it's probably what I need most,
just a little break from thoughts and selfishness
I do not own anyone, not even myself
it's all variable
it's terrible
this illness of assuming the right to feel a certain way about anything
when you're wrong,
the feelings are wrong
it's possible.
Too much analysis not enough mental paralysis
freeze
let it stand still, we're close enough to the speed of light to halt forward motion of time
slide in a black hole
Helter Skelter, and I'll see you again
a changed man, new person, brain transplant
and I won't care
oceans are forever and round like the universe
citrus smiles mean only positive moments
nothing serious ever again
sight for sore thighs
joy.
Jun 2, 2012
Jun 2, 2012 at 2:42 PM UTC
Ttthee fiirstttt timmee
i was alone with le tele
i got excited
as a kid of 8
i knew tv was fun
my dad
went to work early morning time
i grabbed up my
favorite blanky
and sat down in its presence
the icy cold remote in
my handddddddddddddddddddddddddd,
blood guts and big *****
tv knows about everything
STD results and Wars on Terror
my favorite cartoons
McDonalds has a new sandwich
i am not the father
Lindsay's back in jail
stage collapse smushes ***** couple
scientists report, transfat is a-okay
President's schtupping an intern
moonbase has a ******* epidemic
i think i want to grow up to be a juicehead
45 dead in pakistani drone strike
i figure,
they'll just re-spawn or
I'll wish them back
when I collect the dragonballs
anthrax in the mail and
feet on the beaches
eyes in the sky
eyes from under
bomb threat at my school
mom had me
stay home
and
munch on some chips
watch the tv
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 11:37 PM UTC
Sometimes I watch
the man in the benign pastel shirt
and the drab khakis
with the receding hairline
and the thick glasses
cross the street
with a package in his arms;
And I think to myself,
"There goes a good dad,
mild mannered, loving -
trying to make his way
in this savage world."
Then, almost instantaneously,
the doubt creeps in:
"Or, he could be a monster,
who beats his kids,
or his wife,
or sets fire to homes,
or has adolescent prisoners in his basement."
From then on I question everyone I see.
That lovable looking old lady
with her sun hat
and disabled parking pass
might shout racist obscenities
from her balcony
at poor black kids
playing in the park across the street.
The clean-cut young man
in the shirt and tie
with the papers in his hands
may spend his weekends
filling envelopes with anthrax spores -
one for each name on his list.
I can no longer see
the father whose arrival from work
is anticipated by a loving family,
or the grandmother who delights in
handing out the most Halloween candy
to every kid in the neighborhood,
or the industrious young professional
striving to make a meaningful contribution
to society.
I wonder if the darkness I see in them
is a magnified reflection
of the darkness I know
that lurks inside of me.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 4:30 AM UTC
Ya wonda why I'm filled with so much passion and rage/
But that's what happ'n when ya lessen a man to a cage/
I haven't even unleashed the darkness/
Imagine a soul that's heartless/
Crowley is weak compared to the I beast/
Within me, 'n He I now release/
It in I and we have begun to feast/
Spit it out
Shut ya impudent mouth n listen/
Time ta quit ya fuckin' insolent dissin'/
Check me out I'm hookless/
Reckless/
You follow the text n I'm bookless/
Check this/
Determination look me in my Eyes/
Ya gunna stay in tha gutta, ***** ***** just to watch me rise/
RA!/
I am incomparable/
Can't match me, I'm too lyrical/
I am an assassin/
Breath deep,
I am the heir, with anthrax-in/
How I see it, You nuttin' but fails/
You in a row boat ***** n my ***** got sails/
Ya call me crazy/
Ya vision is hazy/
And ya thinkin is lazy/
What I know would make ya a sage see/
I'm filled with these higher optics/
Shouldn't need a telescope ta spot this/
but you do
What/
Hoss is Down, Livin life like love/
'N neva givin' a ****
I Come here to shut ya ta Hell up/
------------Chorus-----------
Duranged/
It's Dark n Strange/
You askin', "What am I"/
Darkness Fire burnin' opaque, I neva Die/
Strange Set by Ra, Look to tha Sky/
Nothin' weirder than I/
So Dark N Strange
I Am, Cryptic Poetic Hark outta Range/
Who is, Dark n Strange/
Ya frightened of tha commin' age/
Ya too tormented by change/
IT'S NOW
Needa label me "I Am" - The Omnipotent is Dark n Strange!
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 8:42 PM UTC
we are angels
with cathedrals,
prophets, and poems
to prove it
other species
are not endowed
with such gifts:
the ceiling
of the Sistine Chapel
the pyramids, loosing
the bounds of earth
to walk on a moon...
psychoanalysis
the atomic bomb
Anthrax, dioxin
and gunfire
gunfire
we are maggots
on rotting fruit, sated now
looking for a place to hop off,
to escape before the fruit falls fast
to the ground
before the oceans rise
and the skies fill with ash
surely we can fly away
but we are wingless
angels, killer angels
killer angels
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 4:38 PM UTC
a horror of numerous names
a factory stained in infamous shame
warfare brought prisoners to encampment
oh, the atrocities, the torture that the sheep endured under imprisonment
what lack of morality shroud in secrecy
hidden amongst the seat of war
an epidemic prevention, more like chemical warfare testing
victims, heroes of their country mutilated and murdered by their own
men with no compassion, superior to all
no one came to stop you, unit 731
you treated bodies like logs
cutting them up, using them whatever, whichever way you want
observed pathogens you set into the air
to infect so you can dissect men alive to view and share
results, death progression through biological extermination
you gave birth to
towers housing flames that hid countless bodies
planes showering parasites bred with death over villages
chocolates laced with anthrax handed out to children
how much more could you dish out?
how many more ways could you ****
Unit 731,
no one knew you at the time
Unit 731,
they are still blind.
your secrets are in Uncle Sam's hands
Unit 731
your enemies are your friends
you share thrones to rule over the 99 percent
Unit 731
how many more times will you repeat throughout human history?
Unit 731
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 4:22 PM UTC
Happy Halloween
Trick or treats at the front door,
give them candy, but they want more.
I put poison in their candy bar,
razors in their apple will leave a scar.
Tired of hearing, the ringing of my bell,
all these **** kids can go to hell.
Putting tacks in their Milky Way,
don't they know candy causes tooth decay.
Even with the lights off, they still knock,
I hate every kid on this **** block.
I give them lint from my dryer,
their stupid costumes, I light on fire.
I put pennies in their pillow case,
some kids so ugly, don't need masks on face.
I smile at their moms, standing on the sidewalk,
all the hot ones, I can't help but gawk.
When they say trick or treat,
I make them lick my smelly feet.
Putting pins in their Baby Ruth,
no longer will they have a sweet tooth.
Putting nails in their peanut butter Twix,
I have a big bag filled with rotten tricks.
I put Anthrax in their Snickers,
on the Kit Kat i cover with chiggers.
Three Musketeers are filled with staples,
Butterfingers have splinters from wooden tables.
Naughty kids get a bag of my ****
from the toilet, that I often sit.
Maybe next year they will learn,
or I'll give them ashes from their parents urn.
Sometimes I scare them and make them beg,
their so scared, you can see *** running down their leg.
I've even given left overs from the fridge,
all the maggots make their bodies twitch.
Next Halloween, if I'm not in jail,
I will urinate in every candy pail.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 8:17 PM UTC
It’s thought provoking
and emotion evoking
I feel like I’m choking, {Heimlich}
Truer words have never been spoken
by a dancing mime with only one leg.
Minds have reeled
Fates have been sealed
Unknowns become real
It’s a negotiated deal made by some lawyer with a soul.
Tragic, Comedy- Tragicomedy
Shipping-handling. As seen on TV.
What’s the cost of free ?
Nothing comes really, with a money back guarantee.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
Operators standing by- keep your seat.
Stay out of the kitchen if you can’t stand the heat.
And know your victory isn’t over defeat.
Miller time- the best time of year
But I’ll never need another beer,
My life’s so complete when using Tampax.
The latest miracle cure is as safe as anthrax.
Who has time these days for voting, when I feel the blight of bloating ?
There are no important politics or elections.
When I have four plus hour erections
but I bet my doctor won’t be the one I decide to consult.
>>>>>
Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at www.emotionalorphan.net.
Oct 1, 2009
Oct 1, 2009 at 1:49 PM UTC
A vicious attack of that crackling brainiac anthrax
To give back to society
Slack then just grab the heat,
Feed it to the needy who receive it thankfully.
Call it poetry.
Who could see repressed punctuality proceeded
By the kick of a hit or three?
Gimme these retrospective variants
To a counterpoint's last stand,
Or voices
Speaking to a lost cost for freedom
That rips at the rotting veins of humanity-
I stood up for what I believed in,
But the world will too crumble when the sun's light dulls dead.
You can call this rambling for something
To take the brain-scraping ache away-
The pain of the mistaken vacant escape.
Who's to say that we're all just thrown here
To die and to try to believe in something that exists,
And if we can't find it then we're lost and wrong and
Guilty.
Leave me barely breathing if the seeing is now ceasing
To a state of gray monotony,
And melancholy monsters creeping
Out from under the bed where my habits sleep-
And threaten with a scratch, hiss and screetch
To
Wake
Me
Up.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
The static havoc
In my attic
Is automatic
And so emphatic
Excruciating pain
Roosting in rain
Boosting the grain
But flooding my lane
While playing cosmic roulette
I'm charged a clockwise debt
Paid by traveling to my death
Like anthrax on Amtrak
The FBI can't track
So the decay stacks
Turning everything black
Something's amiss
In this blinding abyss
That grabs my wrist
And drains my bliss
So I seek shelter
But get peltered
Helter skelter
By the belters
Tired of lies
Afraid I'll die
I see your eyes
As a sweet surprise
Then watch paint dry
Unlike the tears I cry
From the fear inside
You'll hurt my pride
Honestly
You harvest me
Until you're part of me
Making it hard to see
Where I'll be
If you flee
From my plea
And just leave
So I continue wheeling
To my glass ceiling
In need of timely healing
I forget my frightened feeling
And turn to hope
Until you say nope
A slippery slope
With which I can't cope
I thought I was saved
Instead I feel shame
From this disgraceful game
Called you don't feel the same
Which has gotten me lost
Frozen in frost
The coldest cost
As garbage tossed
You kindly offer your friendship
Unable to kiss my friend's lips
Unable to grab my friend's hips
Unable to let myself slip
I find something profound
Traveling on ground
With you around
Safe and sound
You offer insight
Increasing my might
By seeing the light
When you are right
You help me fight
My perilous plight
By making pain slight
Removing my fright
My perception of you is traveling
On this road that is gravelly
I once desired you madly
Now others have had me
But that doesn't change when I'm lonely
I wish you would hold me
Unable to forsake the old me
I just continue traveling coldly
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 7:22 PM UTC
Our world is hell
We cannot deny
Disease lives amongst us
It thrives within each soul
Popping up with just a sigh
Once upon a time
Our world was much more calm
Our air was clean
Not infiltrated with so much pollution
Our wonderous knowledge
Told us we had to strive
Make it better!
Now look what we have done
Disease popping up
All over this nation
Fibromyalgia metabolic disorders
Cancer of many kinds
Cardiovascular disease
Diabetes, digestive disorders
Liver disease
The importance of nourishing the brain
Anthrax
Diet and recovery seem an impossibility
Osteoporsis
Dem bones: Do high protein diets cause bone loss
This could drive one insane
What is the cost
Insanity some find to be
The gravy train
Human knowledge may have turned
This world into hell
Pray death will bring
A clean slate
To this humanistic spell
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 2:35 PM UTC
tsk tsk asterisk
chk chk clap blam boom
sik click arsonic
grip glap drap gloom
wix wax anthrax
hop leap woosh slam
sip spike archetype
cough crash anagram
hark bark blue monarch
wrapped in a summer's day
tick tack heart attack
passing the cabaret
she used to say words like
bump, beep, buzz
until flutter fizz crunch chirp
fell beams of a truss
and tenderly did hum zap sing
in little vrooms and snags
did she meet unfortunate ends
woof, crack, thud, down crags
shimmer shingles whisper dust
ugh, agh, yawn, sigh!
her eye sockets gathered such beautiful rust
and did crunch clink, flick and eek
to crack the numbing morning moon
but break, snap, bash, sink
into the hyphenated royal lagoon.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 6:31 PM UTC
Send me anthrax send me pain
Send me torture along with shame
Send me chaos fueled with butane
But please don't forget to seal it with flame,
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 1:56 PM UTC
My confusion comes from too much doing. During the news
eating cheese and crackers, drinking wine, thinking the world
needs me.
Or the falling leaves, the days shorter but so much brighter.
How the cloud cover of the canopy has lifted to reveal
maybe God.
The longest continuous democracy may end in another
theocracy.
A bunch of voodooists with their hocus pocus blessings
and understandings.
Bombs and poison. Grief. Chiseled, tearless face.
Chants gregorian. Her sad, clear, soulful missives from
the city.
Unbelievable acorn crop this year! Skate on them
like marbles. Last year was a maple year. The ash crop
significant, too.
But not the cherries. Or a single pear. Blackberries
held back too. Sure the towers were a violation, but they
came to
hold community.
One stands not apart or alone but an individual within
his or her platoon. Committed to the mission and survival of
the platoon.
Fedex leaves a package. There is or is no anthrax
in it. It is our disappointment as Americans that the world
cannot
be trusted.
Yes, New York is the enemy and brother of Kabul. How
does one reconcile those differing communities and be a non-
violent human?
With words. Wendell Berry's words. And service such as
the secretaries of state give, leaving when one's time and work
is done.
Staying in the diatonic. Agreeing first on rules of engagement.
Then engaging. Not stopping the fight or thought or song until
the fight
is done.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 10:56 AM UTC
the world crushes you to pieces
i wanted to be an altoid
because who doesn't love fresh breath
but everyone mistakes my dust for anthrax
and i thought we were way over that phase
but apparently short-term memory loss doesn't work with traumatic experiences
and everyone remembers
the chill in their throats, the cool air in their nostrils
when they saw
mad shoe and mailbox bombers
images on a news screen
hardly even real
i was real
and i was chewed to pieces
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
My security blanket
Is full of anthrax
Not sure when
Or how that happened
Maybe it's always
Been killing me
I wish I hadn't noticed.
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 8:26 PM UTC
Things haunt me
That I have not a right to feel.
********** is the anthrax
To my limited mind.
It knocks on my doors,
Peels back my eyelids.
Scratches ****** paths
Through brick walls of my conscience.
It is the appeal of sugar, to the child
Sick with diabetes.
It is forbidden fruit
That I have not the heart to taste.
Jun 15, 2013
Jun 15, 2013 at 4:30 PM UTC
I measure time in intervals of ten
Ten seconds;
The amount of time it takes for words to leave your lips and hit my ears like they were wrapped up in anthrax, poisonous.
Ten minutes;
The amount of time It took me to convince myself that everything you conditioned me to believe is your truth, not mine.
Ten months;
The amount of time it will take me to feel like you no longer have a hold on me, free.
Ten years;
The amount of time before All of the cracks and pieces you took from me all fine their way back, complete.
I measure time in intervals of ten,
Because ten is a hell of a lot easier than forever.
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 4:25 AM UTC
when the mail came
unmarked
I said I don’t want it- return to sender!
I do not want this **** again.junk mail is for the birds
I read books & letters, I do not open up
unknown packages for fear of ingesting anthrax
like that American did
a few years ago.
but it showed up once more
this time patiently waiting on my doorstep,
**what
admirable
persistence**
I thought to myself this must be a sign
of something good inside
(like the loving people that never give up on anyone else, ever)
intrigued by the beautiful wrapping, I took it inside
& let it sit on my table
for a few weeks,
half expecting something to happen, but
it did not want to make itself at home amongst
my masterpieces
so I moved it about,
looked for its place
it did not fit.
so I threw it on the shelf
Surprised by its lack of weight.
this **** thing must be empty !
why had I not wondered what was inside before?
*(I’ll rip open that ************ & see what it’s made of)*
but instead, into the fire I threw it
& the ashes disappeared shortly afterwards
the shelf remains empty
my hands warm,
the dust still unsettled
but by what ?
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 5:26 AM UTC
I wish my breath was anthrax
So I could **** with just the air.
I wish I didn't feel so much,
I wish my mind was bare.
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 5:09 AM UTC
angels we are,
with cathedrals,
poems and prophets
to prove it
what species
is endowed with such gifts?
the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel
the pyramids, loosing the bounds of earth to walk on a moon...
the atomic bomb, Anthrax,
and gunfire
are we maggots
on rotting fruit, sated now,
looking to escape before the fruit falls fast
to the ground, before the oceans rise
and the skies fill with ash?
can we not fly away?
no, for we are wingless angels,
killer angels
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 4:44 PM UTC
The factory was a dual role one
It was a great division of labour
And of resources making double the profit
On a Monday it made polonium
And on a Tuesday it made baby milk
And on a Wednesday it made anthrax
And on a Thursday it made flour
And on a Friday it made cyanide
And on a Saturday it made sugar
And on a Sunday it made strychnine
This was a factory of war and peace
It depended on the day
It was worked in three shifts
7 days a week
365 days a year
Feeding nation’s civilians
And poisoning the enemies
Dec 10, 2019
Dec 10, 2019 at 9:44 PM UTC
1
‘Sugar Sugar burning bright.’
I will always associate grapes with you,
after romping at bus stops comme hares,
all in a state of disrepair,
paying the multiracial train fare while
tucking up the driver’s cozy, why trans
portability! Half-lloweens to Macy’s,
the dreamy honk fades into the moon,
behind gun cartridges of a Southern neck hair,
of crooning files in gregarious heads bared,
so to meet you there. Despite the polyester
uniform, the detergent-festered skin – ’twas
‘What an old school ***** your plump lips
in slightly cracking slant at half-forty-five
to the Jupiter’s Koran. Would it suffice?
My advice – to always dab your cherry stone,
so the taint of whirling frozen-yogurt
aren’t left for me to sip on.
I’d warn you.
None other than yourself who only invite,
through carefully calculated vortices,
coarse premises for me to fall –
within snuffed up ceiling in starry neon,
heroic chameleons in trompe l’oeil foolery,
as if you knew me to write, to be feathered,
simply within an inch of your maple fullness.
I will not.
run /
/ conundrum
formulaic /
/ sweet ***
anthrax /
/ angelic
acquiesce
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 6:28 AM UTC
I am a console of good despair
And I only want to have you
No matter what the statutes
Bring me a bottle to capture air
But the room is full of sidewalks
I would rather be deadbolt
I wouldn’t ever remorse you just
To be satisfied with my life
I am not so deep in pride
That’s the way I like to think it but
There are all these things that I want
That I have never begot
Ten cigarettes in the atmosphere
There’s a lightbulb in the ballroom
The fixture sprays its values
Focus the times, nothing’s sacred here
Ridiculous, all these steps
It takes to get to world war
Culture is something unique to man
Sometimes I wish we’d go back
Anthropocentric anthrax
Now *** is something you have to learn
There’s no more animal instincts
You better know your manners
There’s this one person I want to see
Everything that I ever do
But forget some things in front of you
The fear, fear, the total fear
Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 2:07 PM UTC