"authorized" poems
*consciously, willfully, I wish it
quietly the Sunday, the sun day, drifts toward,
in its natural game, set, overmatched,
the foregone conclusion, nightfall diminishment
the water songfully swishes,
as the tide departs for places unknown, this then, now
the only natural authorized aural apparition,
the power boats renounce their normal noisy conditioning,
honoring their silenced, under-sail brethren,
as well as admitting their noises disfigure
the fast approaching majesty of the end of
our summer seasoning of humanity
consciously, willfully, I wish it
once again, lush is the quietude,^
now given up, surrendered and surceased to wonder,
how come I to write of these moments so oft,
thenever-ending quest to re-inscribe it on my sensibilities,
in vainglorious hopes that this stamping will last, be the last,
see me through the turgid frigidity of my Lucifer life,
come the fall, the winter, the early dark,
the daylight's brevity, the hurricane season of the mind,
that...need I say more?
consciously, willfully, I wish it
the particular white cloud formation of the moment at hand,
shall stay in place, be the capstone of my summer living vision,
become permanent part and parcel
of the sclera, the white of my eyes, and when
I will write, soon enough,
my vision white weeping clouded,
you will weep knowingly, sympathetically
consciously, willfully,
I wish for that as well*
8/27/17
6:35pm
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 10:38 AM UTC
1745
The mob within the heart
Police cannot suppress
The riot given at the first
Is authorized as peace
Uncertified of scene
Or signified of sound
But growing like a hurricane
In a congenial ground.
6.6k
Pradip is newborn (impossible wisdom)
“a new day, a new chance for my soul... to heed
a small voice ... to give flowers, to plant new seeds.
to not trample on wildflowers and unwanted weeds...” Sally
“Sweet baby
with your head on my shoulder
I'm no more growing older...” Pradip
~
the unpredictability and randomness of the winds,
seed carriers, of small voices, yearning to be heard,
powerless in appearance only, for within are powers superior heroic,
who can grow others who can feed
who can sustain multiple living creatures
each seed unique, a poem composed and complete,
authored by precedents, authorized by predecessors,
utilizing the cocoon of soil and sun,
rainwater from space and deep driven to
the clear milk of underground railroad rivers,
to give nurture to its revisional generational code
these new children of an old mix,
are quiet lifesavers giving proofs positive,
that those who will one day grow old,
with deep gnarled roots, are most capable
of finding ways of manufacturing fresh youth whim within,
to those who give babies homage, in attendance
this then the newborn miracle, the new seed,
wind borne, replants itself in old soil,
taking but more so giving,
injecting bits of vitality into its arterial ancestry,
how can this be?***
*I do not know the why or the how,
but am evidence of the therefore,
and the thereafter, of impossible wisdom*
7:07am 4-5-19 a newborn poem for poetry passing grandparents
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 7:19 AM UTC
Sulking back grinding my teeth is useless
Taking out my ire on boneheaded people is ridiculous
Asking the world to stop using the 'F-word' is pointless as well
Yelling at the top of my voice against the vice is not worthy either
Involving not in policing activities without being authorized
Not caring for you jealous people is best in these circumstances
Gunning them down is impossible any day anyway
Lowly words are your virtue commonly crude language people
Ostentatious skills of yours are no use against the new born rage
Winning your hearts over is better than whining over your malpractice of teaching your kids the F-word earlier than either Papa or Mama.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
Sign here and,here
Authorized personnel only
Exit…
A sign of distress on his face
The normal signs of distress?
No. Signal the white flag high
Suboxone and methadone
Romney and Ryan
The county fairgrounds…
“Lookout for that fox!”
DUI you cant afford it
DUI CRACK you cant afford it
Hand signals communicate
UFO Conference?
No SIGNS of UFO’s tonight
“Where’s your sign?”
What would my sign look like?
Winding road, next 4 miles
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 11:18 PM UTC
***“Who will judge, as many trudge
through mud, mucking up the rug,
a coating of clay formed by God on a particular day.
Yet talent is ingrained, whether sane or insane,
and verse is treasure or a curse, unrehearsed, dispersed for all to see,
will they applaud or disparage, this marriage of mind and rhyme,
by design aligned, a sign of the times...”***
ms. patty m
~~~
once again a thunderbolt command hits between the eyes, on-right
the precise spot where the head aches with desire to fulfill the write!
but to what can I add to this encompassing question already
better answered by the questioner?
who will judge indeed!
all the time and far too often,
the flotsam rises to the surface, when better left ignored,
while the jetsam jets nowhere, buried deep though breathing yet,
on unseen sea bottom of ignorance,
luck of the draw by one who designs, who aligns,
a capricious starscape in the firmament
as well as
the infirmity & ignominy of caskets lying quiet in sea trenches
that the answer herein contained, a supposition,
a poor poets speculation, a soul’s lactation,
the very question is a cyclone bomb by competents
who are blinded+bound+blessed by
incomprehension
the only judge and jury is
your forefingers tip,
if it tremble a-slight
when caressing the key called send,
your cellular fiber
has adjudged worthy,
and no dare disagree
talent and distinction
randomly and irrationally distributed,
but the courageous caress of a send key pressed,
is all that is needed
to impress the only judge and jury
that
authorized you
in advance to
love yourself insanely well enough
to write
and
to send for
a request for sentencing
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 11:31 AM UTC
658
Whole Gulfs—of Red, and Fleets—of Red—
And Crews—of solid Blood—
Did place upon the West—Tonight—
As ’twere specific Ground—
And They—appointed Creatures—
In Authorized Arrays—
Due—promptly—as a Drama—
That bows—and disappears—
1.9k
The Wildest Conclusion
Who are you
To tell me
My thoughts
Aren't worth being heard
I deserve
And demand my rights
I might
Shout amendments
First,
Then commence
To irregular common sense
My stability
Is retained
By the imbalance
In my brain
You see,
I can't enable
These "Cain and Able" angels
That rest on your shoulders
Because
I ain't able
Fables
Fly out the mouth
Of an astounding author
His sound
Is profound
His prowess authorized
By his copy written
Signature
Which is his style
Italicized and laid back
Now,
Crack open
Another pack of pens
And draw out
The wildest conclusions
In deep thought
Then listen...
.The world disapproves.
The extent
Of my intentions
Were wilder than I could imagine
So I didn't know
I would take it this far
The words written
Were forbidden
In the foulest belief system
I wouldn't have wrote them
If my outrageous mind
Wasn't dying
From boredom
Boarding off the monsters
That alter ideas
From beneath the bed
They reach my head
And toy with my
Emotions
Tantalize and
Taint my tender mind
Then morph it
To be the tainter!
To picture death
You'll need help
From this
Morbid painter
Why do I
Write so wickedly
Then spread like pandemics
It's
Pandemonium momentarily
Shared with you
With whatsoever
You should do
With
Evil knowledge
Is truth
Look in your hands
I say
"Vice is right"
Can I persuade?
Like a gun used to
****** a murderer
Some executions
Are executed
At the exact moment
Of redemption
How tempting
Is it for
A wholesome man
To make
A half-hearted attempt
At prosperity
Sparingly
Laying in Evil's bed
But never staying
When he awakes
Will he use the tools
Because he learned the trade
Or teach others
To not
It's hard to reach others
When all they believe
Is a happy ending
I conclude
But
The true ending
You can't imagine
Because it's too wild
For you.
Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 4:03 PM UTC
This week at work I received a Homeland Security form with a terse note that I had filled it out incorrectly - in 2003. But I had not filled it out at all; this was new form (already out of date by its own testimony) predicated on a Department of Justice form which I did complete correctly; it had simply expired.
Altho’ I obediently completed the form, I rendered part of the form (page 7 of 9) into not-really-a-poem, in lines of ten syllables:
I Attest That I Am
employment eligibility
verification department of home
land security u.s. citizen
ship and immigration services u
scis form i-9 omb
no. 1615-0047
expires 03/31/2016
start here. Read instructions carefully be
fore completing this form. The instructions
must be available during completion
of this form anti-discrimination
notice: it is illegal to discrim
inate against work-authorized indi
viduals. Employers cannot specify
which document(s) they will accept from an
employee. The refusal to hire an
individual because the docu
ment presented has a future expi
ration date may also constitute il
legal discrimination. Section 1.
Employee information and attest
ation (employees must complete and sign
section 1 of form i-9 no later than
the first day of employment, but not be
fore accepting a job offer). Last
name (family name) First name (given name) mid
dle initial other names used (if any)
address (street number and name) apt.
number city or town state zip code date
of birth (mm/dd/yyyy)
u.s. social security number
e-mail address telephone number I
am aware that federal law provides
for imprisonment and / or fines for false
statements or use of false documents in
connection with the completion of the
form. I attest, under penalty of
perjury, that I am (check one of the
following)…
I Attest That I Am
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 8:57 PM UTC
Dedicated to the Hard Hats, ..for holding it all together.
**** frost on the green grass
There's a cold moon in the sky
The estuary waters black and calm
Where golden ripples lie.
Dawn's horizon lightens up
Bright stars begin to dim
Hard Hats all arrive for work
And with frozen breath...log in.
Work boots crunching on the stone
The men disperse to trucks,
The diesel motors roar to life
Their departures forming rucks.
Swarming in the morning light
Each to his own job's task,
Bridge building work underway
As dawn's first sunbeams bask.
Amazing the complexity
That building bridges has,
Amazing how voraciously
It eats up time and gas.
The planning and design work
The funding of supply,
Those organizational matters
And the labour standing bye.
Digging, lifting, shoving, shifting
Moving this to there,
A logistical nightmare
For the novice, unaware.
Steel and timber by the ton
Concrete pours en mass,
Gravel, sand and aggregate
And reservoirs of gas.
Procurement of supply ensures
A smooth transitional flow
Of successive small procedures
To make the project mesh and grow.
Day after day the massive trucks
Carting tons of sand
Are authorized by gate men
To unload on to land
Where motorway construction
Is steadfastly taking place
And progressing at
A gradual and steady building pace.
From concept to completion
A million multitasks,
Which involves a caste of thousands
And a schedule which asks,
That the finished installation
Be completed by the time
Of the Rugby World Cup kickoff,
Our global status on the line.
Like ants the Hard Hats swarm about
Each does his little bit
And gradually, over time,
The bridge emerges from the pit.
It emergeth like a phoenix
In a drab and sombre gown
But on completion, shines like fire
To be the nation's most re known.
The Manukau Harbour Crossing
A project for the Gods,
Of massive lengths of concrete
And miles of reinforcing rods.
Of an eternity of effort
From everyone involved
And an asset for New Zealand
And a beauty to behold.
Marshalg
@theGate
MHX
Mangere Bridge
14th March 2009
Please view the following link
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzQZ-M90Zig
Nov 14, 2009
Nov 14, 2009 at 1:07 PM UTC
The structure of pillars are built
left and right Thirteen Thirty One
Terminal tool of the sun
The Moon together as One
The Ownership of the flag and the headdress in the middle of the tent of the one
Constructed and process of this hidden process
Fallen and risen, both hands as they go.
Chains balanced thru the crosses
Past foundations built placed into this process
Linguistics of stages
Past memories of this address in phases
Wheels that protects and repairs its course
Used variables from this source
Spheres reaps from their plantation.
Authorized application
Sensation of this automation
The red bird that flies that sights its location.
Squared into existence that creates manifestation.
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 5:40 AM UTC
Every night,
chosen stars abandon their authorized positions
dancing tantalizingly through a universe;
splashing blues and violets
a fancifully dramatic canvas;
and finally explode
to unknown masses of reds;
showering another vulnerable heart...
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
I said goodbye
she helplessly cried
full of me
for the first time
Teardrops of
the other
by the other
Not to impress
or annoy
the canvas
of the truth of I
remained untouched
but
this uttermost cry was
maybe a cheek warming
Silent expression just
in the conscious presence
of both
embraced by both
Goodbye to this roof that welcomed
our dreams…
Goodbye to this roof that
accommodated our flows
cries
highs
ties
pies
spies
allies skies
I s
Eyes
Aiaiai s ….
All of her dramatized stories
that agonize
are
to be capsized
to emphasize -
harmonize -
energize
so that
I s
are re centralized
re authorized
along the curly hum
For the game!
like the newborn tree
growing inside of me now
of
Me ?
me again?!?
but
I need not much of these anymore
and such are all things
that gave breath to us :
the in/sentient
courageously left behind
for a cry that bore generations
and such is her’s now
A means
that helped me grow
towards this no thing thing
and You
You ?
But you…
…?
An immortalized posture of a shoulder shrug!
Nothing more
and nothing less
You - as love apart
but still with me
by each one of my shoulder shrugs
like the nameless sage of shoulder shrugs
In the western ‘who cares’ style….
We are so good at that!
So …
so ?
Be proud just!
to be commemorated as such
I will Never
pick a wildflower again
to place in my beloved vase
I did it only twice
Shamefully
Watching the truth die
Instantaneously
and no we do not like duality
But there will NOT be a third time
for such sad action
You have my word on that
I walk now alone
content with a song
of a bird welcoming
my accord
Carrying your light
in my heart
Plainness is my courage
I know you now
Your love rains
beads of truth
shaping words
of peace
that I read
incessantly
as us
knowing my duty
I go
go now
Taking nothing
Needing nothing
Leaving all
Things and
Insightful of
no things
I am you
With you
Listening
Just
to these
final
immaculate
droplets
of hers
before she willingly dies
Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 10:35 AM UTC
Who are you
To tell me
My thoughts
Aren't worth being heard
I deserve
And demand my rights
I might
Shout amendments
First,
Then commence
To irregular common sense
My stability
Is retained
By the imbalance
In my brain
You see,
I can't enable
These "Cain and Able"
Angels
That rest on your shoulders
Because
I ain't able
Fable's fly out
The mouth
Of an astounding author
His sound is profound
His prowess authorized
By his copywritten
Signature
Which is his style
Italized
And laid back
Now,
Crack open
Another pack of pens
And draw out
The wildest conclusions
In deep thought
Then listen...
The world dissapproves
The extent
Of my intentions
Were wilder than I could imagine
So I didn't know
I would take this far
The words written
Were forbidden
In the foulest belief system
I wouldn't have
Took it this far
If my outrageous mind
Wasn't dying
From boredom
Boarding off
The monsters
That try to alter ideas
From beneath the bed
They reach my head
And toy with my
Emotions
Tantilize and
Taint my tender mind
Then morph it
To be the tainter!
To picture death
You'll need help
From this
Morbid painter
Why do I
Write so wickedly
Then spread like pandemics
It's
Pandamonion momentarily
Shared with you
With whatsoever
You should do
With
Evil knowledge
Is truth
Look in your hands
I say
"Vice is right"
Can I persuade?
Like a gun used to
****** a murderer
Some executions
Are executed
At the exact moment
Of redemption
How tempting
Is it for
A wholsome man
to make
A half-hearted attempt
At prosperity
Sparingly
Laying in Evil's bed
But never sleeping
When he awakes
Will he use the tools
Because he learned the trade
Or teach others
It's hard to reach others
When all they believe
Is a happy ending
I conclude
But
The true ending
You can't imagine
Because it's too wild
For you
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 12:51 PM UTC
To Be Governed
“To be GOVERNED is to be watched, inspected, spied upon, directed, law-driven, numbered, regulated, enrolled, indoctrinated, preached at, controlled, checked, estimated, valued, censured, commanded, by creatures who have neither the right nor the wisdom nor the virtue to do so. To be GOVERNED is to be at every operation, at every transaction noted, registered, counted, taxed, stamped, measured, numbered, assessed, licensed, authorized, admonished, prevented, forbidden, reformed, corrected, punished. It is, under pretext of public utility, and in the name of the general interest, to be placed under contribution, drilled, fleeced, exploited, monopolized, extorted from, squeezed, hoaxed, robbed; then, at the slightest resistance, the first word of complaint, to be repressed, fined, vilified, harassed, hunted down, abused, clubbed, disarmed, bound, choked, imprisoned, judged, condemned, shot, deported, sacrificed, sold, betrayed; and to crown all, mocked, ridiculed, derided, outraged, dishonored. That is government; that is its justice; that is its morality."
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 3:09 PM UTC
Deep answers to deep.
As I answer my self who pays the mort-gage
theoretical spin off ona mobius strip
from who uses war
on reality as art, thus artificial, officially
authorized use for brainless mortal minds
projecting
re- ah, rhea, lovely
-- in the future, to the reader
-- use these mentally any where these signal
¿:-,? something more is needed --
-- answers must follow preceding quest ions
not sparked piezo wise
Brakes. Sparks, , more than enough.
ok
Flint to steel, steel to towers, to antennae to now.
Kapow. we have always imagined radio and TV.
We think in ways Issac Newton never did imagine.
Jiggle the prism dangling from my partner's ear.
Rhea bhering all the gods, and there, errors
began, gin being spiritually essential
to geth to gather sense
signals sortive
suggestive
-yes, whatifery, we have that, how much do you wush?
One more breath.
Why?
Why do you ask?
We have a rule.
No wasted breath. Make every signal clear.
The next idle word we speak won't wo not
be spoken as once is wont for any unrefined term.
Time out. Selah. Take a thought.
- we have no angst, thus no anxious thoughts
- should you be shopping for such,
- those are outlawed here,
- theives honor, liars pledged allegiance-con carne
-
- aye, ai, no-- we as words in warring times make
- peace, no concarne mind heresy, see your self
-
do a little out of body experience imagining
you can do it,
melt into your chair, that
is the easiest position to begin
facing forward and falling with no fear,
until
something unnamed as yet no words may be
in the beginning of beginning your
agreement to be mindful of me,
in your secret you stash, your hidden power
valued in talents, specie solid real esse state being
omygoooooooooo
djasay I may break into song, as I see
where this is headed headed up to see
from below what an *** hat I am, at times
out of body low
low as a JD Sumner solo.
A drunken god declared there is, as in
so be it
wine that makes glad.
so be it
wine that makes glad the core of man-made
in my image, goodness of happiness in any time
One more breath,
Sep 1, 2021
Sep 1, 2021 at 4:39 PM UTC
I’m running now as fast as I can
Can’t see anyone in view
The scope I can see is within a few feet
I’m choking and turning blue
Others are yelling but I cannot hear them
Is this world real or wax?
Out of control, spinning; no parachute
My disposition, no longer so lax
This free bird’s wings must be clipped soon
For she is not authorized to fly
Hitting every branch on the way down
Maturity, her next coat to try
Dec 11, 2010
Dec 11, 2010 at 9:47 AM UTC
OR: Benchmarks for Bench-Warming
The author, after recently publishing
Working to Frame Approaches Towards Approaching Frameworks: Contextualizing Systemic Interventions as an Interventional System in Context
collaborated with himself and co-wrote
Granting Greater Rights to Grant-Writers:
Turning Down the Echo in an Eco-Downturn.
Both papers were well-received and build on the strength of the author's initial work, published in 2018, entitled:
Speed-Dating the Data: Progressive Measures towards Measurable Progress
The author's third paper examined day-by-day data deterrence as a strategy to enhance documentation of impact towards tracking the implementation of benchmarks. The main thesis of the author's 78-page analysis was that out-dated data, when out on a date, flirts with obsolescence by trying to ford the current affordability when instead, it could be out-sourcing data while invoicing clients in adolescence—rather than dragging the river for dead data. All three publications are recommended and underwritten by overwhelmed authorized ghost writers.
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 12:12 PM UTC
My thoughts are hesitating and this is when I think best
Sometimes it scares me cause I might be possessed
Each sentence gets extracted from my collectiveness
Collecting condolences from everyone for my grandpa's eternal rest
Listening to my head to see what comes next
Be more specific with yours words cause what you want and say are different
Inn at the Hard Rock hotel and I'm on the rock n roll express
I found the stairway to heaven but I took a shortcut at the hermetic dimension
Reading stones about my quest to the questions
Are you a divergent?
Do you not feel like a human?
Don't listen to the author, he is a authorized bipolar civilian
Not again I always tend to exaggerate my imagination
Accidental psychic but I'm very useless
Can't read what your thinking but i sense what your feeling
Counting down to earth's revolution while the earth revolutions
Life is human nature and we surround ourselves with natural disasters
Calculating the physics of metaphysical living
Don't touch this I left it here for a special reason
I'm haunted by my past and it feels like forever
I was only 8 when I held by dads beer and got pulled over
This is the pain of my lifes painting and automatic writing
The ghost is speaking cause this is not logical thinking
A pathological mammal with more than one sorry
This poetry was just an experiment of my experiences
Constantly trying to circumcise the circumference of my bad circumstances
A divided individual on a journey to self transcendence
Take these psychedelics the outcomes are tremendous
Generate the regeneration of our generation
Voids of a paranoid and words to destroy civilized nation
From a time where civilization is more than a billion
You know nothing about the worlds weight on your shoulders
It's more like the world is holding our weight together
I love this new age
It feels like a new page
Humans walking around with a new rage
Lie to the masses and **** each other over specific grasses
I'm just a parasite from false human eugenics
Selective breeding we weren't born from a planned mystery
Because that man prays 5 times a day he's a terrorist
Because I eat five lambs I'm a ****** enthusiast
Because the plane hit the building a war begins with 50 states full of Americans
Reincarnated to a place of incarceration
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 6:11 AM UTC
Intrigued about cremation,
I sought GOOGLE to assuage curiosity
significant questions answered
clicking the following website
https://www.funeralwise.com/plan/
cremation/cremation-process/
though summarizing article
some oven death defying act,
yet summarization satisfactorily completed,
thus herewith briefly describes
kickstarting, mystifying, pulverizing...
tantalizing, yielding, enterprising, lasting,
yelping, holding, surviving dearly departed
1. deceased identified
2. official cremation authorized
affiliated with deceased
3. lifeless body prepared
4. medical devices removed
5. jewelry recovered
6. corpse secured
into burnable cremation receptacle
7. encased entity transferred
to retort i.e. cremation chamber
8. temperature range adjusted
between 1400 degrees -
1800 degrees Fahrenheit
9. 1.5 - 2 hours elapsed
10. magnet applied
residual metal removed
11. remains ground into ashes
12. once process completed
remains secured within urn
13. family representative entrusted
with ashes.
Burnt offerings distributed
ideally according to stated
wishes of beloved,
whose remembrance sustained
as tears expended
necessary to mourn
eventually sorrow lessened,
photographs visited
after crushing grief decreased.
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 2:35 PM UTC
I could not wear pink shirts
I could not wear fuzzy sweaters
I could not talk in my normal voice.
I had to change genders
When talking about my dates.
I could not keep my boyfriend’s picture
On my desk like everyone else did
Around the cluttered desks of others.
I could not talk at work about home;
I could not use the word married
I had to use words like ‘partner’
Even after years of being married.
Close friends and family talked
About him as ‘my little friend’
Even though he was older and
Bigger than a football tight end.
I had to put single on all papers
Including my tax forms in spring.
Being part of a gay household
To institutions didn’t mean a thing.
The bragging rights for gay people
Didn’t exist for anything essential.
The underscript was that gay folks
Were something vile and pestilential.
There was no recompense from god
Because we were called abominations.
Onward Christian Soldiers was a theme
That authorized the invasion of nations.
So, how were we to manage liberation
And pride in who we were as gays?
Some of us were murdered for this
Most of us harassed in ugly ways.
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 4:28 PM UTC
"Call me James," he said.
Neither Jim, nor Jimmy; &
Certainly not: Jimbo.
Simply James, like King James,
The English Bible James,
James who authorized the translation,
James the First, himself;
Not that other James--
The James of Raoul Dahl--,
The James who got involved with a
Gigantic peach.
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 1:09 AM UTC
Gangsters got few friends and more fiends.
Such is the nature of life.
It's rare for a gangster to find someone to confide in.
In the streets, no place for confidence.
Not a trace of the rare innocence.
''Innocence is nonsense, in the streets''
Alliances forged on territorial expedience.
Trust will give you a deadly experience
I survived one madly in all my existence
Only vagabonds and tyrants not saints
Make it here
You watch my back
I watch yours
Till comes time to shoot you in the back
Talk about family....
Your family is the one who takes the bullet for you.
Either dead or wounded alive trust such.
Owe nothing to none and walk without fear.
No justice from the police
Just another authorized gang of enemies
Who don't hesitate to shoot.
So we shoot before they do.
Get caught, if you lucky in prison you will rot.
If not, they will give the electric chair
Life is only fair
Only serves you what you deserve
Pull the trigger first or face the grim ripper first
Death is an invited guest
It's what we use to live
What we all shall use to leave
Live by the bullet
'Shall die by the bullet
Just staying alive today
Only to die someday
My life feeds on blood
My tears are wiped by death
My fears are calmed by death
At the end it will be my death
I won't miss the earth
But I will miss the streets
Guns and ammunition
My way of retribution
In the face of intimidation
Those who intrude can end up dead
In case you didn't know
We ain't rude just avoiding the death bed
It's an insatiable thirst for power
Will do anything to quench it.
If you shoot a man
Make sure he is dead
Or he will return
Saying he rose from the dead
Shoot him in the head
Between the eyes.
To seal his fate
Avoid the deadly surprise.
To be cont'd...
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 9:14 AM UTC
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Mar 13, 2017
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