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Deeee Jun 2017
Sometimes I wish I was a brainless drone

To not be laboured by heavy thoughts
To not be concerned by outer affairs
To do only what I've been programmed to do
Feel only what I've been programmed to feel
*
To live my life with a blank stare
With no smiles, with no tears*
So that everything wasn't so painful
Even if it'd mean I'd feel never joyful

I'd wake up every morning, blink three times
Wash my face, brush three times
Every breakfast, have three bites
Have a cup of coffee, as I begin to sell my soul
To the wheels that would control me, that chain my soul


Sometimes I wish I was a brainless drone
To not get so tired
To not feel so alone
Gary L Aug 2013
I need some kind of protection
protecting me from the pain
painful world with no affection
affecting me and leaving a stain

stained feelings of rejection
reject of the human chain
chaining me to my own direction
directing me more toward insane

insanity seems like perfection
perfect lunacy in my brain
brainless lunatic with no connection
connecting me to this domain
They sway like brainless cretins,
Black of mouth agape
Hungry for flesh or marrow.
But their heads are crowned of gold
And their bodies tell of starvation
And they bear skin a green nearing putrid.

Unable to move out of the cold
They succumb to necrosis
And feed the soil.
Yenson Aug 2018
Commissar Dumbrov of The Red Republican Army at his desk

Grego, Grego , what is happening with the Regal in the Gulag
Is he mad yet, has he hanged himself and committed suicide

No Commissar, he is writing poetry and growing fat like a pig

Are you crazy, this is a ****** Revolution, not ******* poetry class
Did you not put him through the program.

We did Commissar, we hounded and tormented him, we persuaded his wife to break his heart, we fully destroyed his career, we isolated him, we ruined him financially, we made the proletariat hate him,
we taunted him and provoked him everywhere, we scandalized his name and reputation, we bugged him, we oppressed him, we bullied him, we made him friendless, we invaded his privacy, we mocked him and depressed him, we tried to confuse him, we mix him up. we harassed him with noise, we've terrorize him we've done everything and more. he has not been with a woman for 20 years.

AND HE'S WRITING POETRY, what a pack of ******* fools you are, that's the trouble with you ****** Proletariat, you have no brains, must be all the ****** gruel you lot eat, your ******* brains didn't develop properly, all you ******* know is how to be ***** and violent, any wonder these Elitists see you as nothing but animals. that great Leader of the Revolution wrote, I forget his name now, he wrote that the best and only way to deal with these Elitists is to attack their minds, **** up their ****** brains, make them paranoid and fearful. drive them crazy, turn them into jabba labba locos, dribbling at the mouth locos crazy,

We tried Commissar, we did all the things to make this happen, we spent a lot of time and effort on this, we used all the grape-vines and contacts we have, we even threw the Kitchen sink at him. So far, nothing.

You threw the ******* Kitchen sink at him, what's that for, the Kitchen sink belongs to the State, its not meant to be thrown at ******* Elitist Dissidents.

Its a manner of speech, Commissar.

Now you are a Comedian, are you, a ******* Revolution is going on, we are creating a Classless Society and Equality for all and you are making stupid jokes!

No Commissar, I mean we utilized all resources so far, we have continually harassed him, we have created so much disappointments, betrayals, let-downs, frustrations for him, but he still remains calm, stoical, composed, dignified, erudite and sane.
maybe its true that these people are a different breed. Its frustrating for us and quite honestly, embarrassing!.

Shut up, are you saying he's some sort of Regal Rasputin, even that ****** one, we got in the end, now you're saying this one is bullet-proof. Have you tried Advanced Slander, spread the nastiest rumors about him. So bad to make him take his own life. Who was it that said,  “Show me the man and I'll show you the crime”

It was Comrade Beria, Commissar. Yes Commissar, we have framed him many times and made thumped up allegations against him. We have done all that Commissar, we even said he walks like John Wayne or a broken crab.

Who is this John Wayne, are you a time-traveler now?

Have you tried spreading the rumor that he goes to the Cementry at night and sleep with dead women, he digs up.

No Commissar, I don't think even the stupidest Proletariat would believe that one.

Have you tried spreading a rumour he has *** with a dog.

Commissar Natashavo hasn't been anywhere near him, Commissar

Are you being funny again, Grego

No Commissar!

So what is happening right now with our Mr Invincible Elitist Poet Romanov or whatever his name is,  the MAN that you ******* useless Republican comrades, can't drive mad or make commit suicide, a simple thing, that we have done thousands of times. Why is it that when we do these things to those Class-traitor Proletariat, they die or go raving mad loco coo coo  within six months.

The Proletariat are brainless  cowards Commissar, they can dish it out but they can't take it, Commissar, that's why its so easy for us Senior Members of the Po-lit-Bureau to manipulate and control them. As regards our MAN we are still actively harassing him, we are presently mixing him up again, mentally and doing voice to skull tactics with him. We also make sure he remains frozen in a time warp. This is useful in allowing us to demonstrate to the imbecilic Proletariat that we are powerful and can control people and events, this makes sure they realize our capabilities and might and of course, fosters espirit de corps. It keeps them all in line.

Well that's good thinking Grego, yes, that's good, as regards our Poet, why don't we just blast off his *****.

We did Commissar, but he grew bigger ones!

Are you being funny again, Grego, do you want to be sent to the Gulag in Siberia to keep the Poet company.

No, Commissar, I have a date tonight with Commissar Natashavo!
--- Oct 2013
These people need so many explanations
For this complicated math
I don't need this help
It's a college level class
Why am I with the lower level
Higher grade
People?
This is all useless anyway
I don't
Won't
Need this in my life
I can do math
But I don't need to graph anything
In any walk of life that I may end up in
Chitra Nair Mar 2015
There are so many voices,
Telling me about their choices,
Their words echo in my ear,
Only intensifying the future's fear;

I'm reaching the top of the mountain called childhood,
I'm growing up and life,
Begins its own complications;
People start nagging me,
Through their loud voices,
To make my choices;

This or that?
Go to college or stay at school?
Am I really smart or a brainless fool?
Oh God, this is so not cool!

People urge me to choose,
"Darling," they say, "What is there to lose?"
Oh God, I don't want to be forced upon!
Oh God, the childhood days are really far gone!"

There are so many voices,
Telling me about my choices,
I don't listen to them,
Instead, I follow my own voice,
In making my life-changing choice...
I wrote this poem three years ago and somehow, I'm still pretty happy with it because I could somehow write what I genuinely felt strongly about and I could somehow put my emotions into words. Hope you like it! :D
Faith Melton Oct 2011
Maybe I'm a nobody,
and everybody knows you.
Maybe I won't get far,
and you'll be famous
But you wont get there on wit.

Hey captain of the Barbie squad,
Did you bleach your hair?
Seems it comes with stupidity too
Miss know it all, but really doesn't

Brand name clothes?
They look expensive, oh dear
Is that a stain? Money wasted!
Still obsessing over your hair
In the bathroom mirror?

Did you see your boyfriend was cheating?
Oh wait, it was with me wasn't it?
Maybe you're that boring,
Same drama everday
"He said, she said" nonesense

So, miss I can do anything,
What happens when daddy's money fades?
Bills pile up?

So miss I can do anything,
Having fun being Queen now?
In the end you'll still be the same
Queen of the Brainless
Iljano lepelblad Sep 2018
How would you feel, being called brainless.
No feeling behind the thought, no meaning behind every sentence, no heart behind every utter of the words.
Do you have the feeling of lonesomeness, i bet you dont, i know you dont...your an empty shell, and i am the lost soul, foolish enough to stay, the empty soul wishing for more, then just a "wish you the best" and a "you can do it".
Why am i fooling myself.
Hurt, suffer and empty smiles are just a part of everyday life.

Someone tell me, why does a poem belong and why does it seem to fly over your mind and set emotions off?

Brainless and left to suffer and maby grow from an empty soul...
Lonesome hurt reflecting
Genevieve Mar 2017
Dear Principal brain dead
with a hollowed out head !
with tears coming home more often than not!
Your lame dead brain dead excuse to not move my daughter to a
gentle spoken teacher rather than always ready with attack mode 0n teacher!

Dearest Brain deadest one
unfortunately this is you principal Valentine!!!
With rage my volcanic anger stirs the teachers cauldron;
Most likely she hates us by now but I haven't anything to lose
I have to remove her yet another year cause last year you
chose to turn off your F'ing listening ears!!

Dearest Brainless heartless Principal of Errol Hassell
back up your staff 110% don't give in or buckle for last year
I gave them the stiff shoulder and now a 2nd time so lets see
just how far they will go this time around? Well Brainless  itch
you can bet we are not threw, still at work behind the scenes to get her out from under your reigns but your blocking it which I think is insane.

But not a shocker being you love to lie and state one liners to shut a parent down
but what you don't realize I am not the stoppin ' Kind ; So go inside your so called school and run it like the cavalier fool that you have become over time letting down children  repeatedly , Who is clearly having personality clashes with the teacher and it is absurd the words you spoke to us saying Kids talk and this and that for being the reason you will not just simply move her to the teacher~>~~>>>

We know she is comfortable with & this is not a matter of Hide the crime don't do the time !! This is a real legit matter! So take your falseness and leave us alone,
help us to leave it as well , Give us a push to get out of your hair but the truth is you don't want to have to supply a reason so local schools ban together to protect thee other so your @$$3$ are what matters most for you not risking your job for just another parent, Just another Student!!

Brain Dead Fool of a Principal who has zero!
She is cool calm an collected while destroying your hope
for your child's safety and this is no Joke.

So when a fellow teachers who reply or people who love family or friend who are  teachers too or they once had please take a step back and a try a realistic approach to thinking while reading my words as the reality of this grows & that there are Cruel teachers that live inside schools some young some old and weathered all they know now to do is Scold Scold Scold!!! Be gone with you little annoying student of mine' because I am angry at the whole class I will choose to pick on you this time! You have study hall for the millionth time!!!

Holding power whether for good reason or
Just to be a b
*ch to a kid to pay them back for what they did or didn't do!
This school sickens me also allowing kids to label themselves a pack of 4 boys
who go by "The smarties" for me this is repulsive to ignore causing in others a feeling of Less especially since the teacher gives them most of classtime privilege's and lets them boss the students around on what to do or simply they say to others
" Your not a Smartie!!"  already started age 9 is all such a vulnerable age and being let down by adult authoritative figure and choosing not to protect and be wise to show my girl she is cared about and not denied of her experiences??!!

Is this not enough for you to have instilled inferior fear inside my daughter? Cant you see you failed her and now she feels scared and weary of adults
not trusting and this is because of you
                                            Dearest Brain Dead Principal.
My girl is stuck in a rut right now because the principal refuses to simply move her to another class within the school, happened last year too when it was her first male teacher and he is a flippant man who enjoys being mean and on several attempts for things to change he argued with the parents instead of think of a solution!! I caught him in a few lies as well so last year the principal failed her after 3 meetings L8her!! So homeschooling we did attempt but I am not well enough disciplined. She took a chance at getting a very joy filled teacher and unfortunately we are in a Nightmare yet again!! the principal is acting like she is helping us to transfer but after 2 different tries the same line of max class full it feels like the principals are talking then backing them up by trying to force us into a corner but I am not that kind!!!! think twice!! I know the principal has let down other families as well; I just weep for the repeat misery they bring cause it is not just my child suffering in class this is happening too often than not! because this principal chooses to not believe the parents and cast us aside with some cheesy chintzzy lines!! So I wrote with information a poem this time to release my tensions and anxieties of plenty, I am everyday sick to my stomach until this is resolved I've got upset belly. This is truly sad. and they have broken my trust To think my girl gave it a go for the 2nd time and same freakin situation of a screaming teacher who never smiles and is always scowling at some one. anyone would get worn out from that and she is most likely a worn out vet teacher who needs to retire same with her last years brain dead Lawrence.  They need younger spirits to fill their schools!! Younger teachers who still have fresh passion to teach. and can find happiness from being around children!
RaNdOmPoEtRy Oct 2013
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Whenever i see crap in the toilet
I think of you

But there's no need to hurry
And there's no need to worry
Just let this feeling sink
Well, even if you can't think

Don't you dare even make a fess
It's not my fault
That your so freakin brainless
Raj Arumugam Aug 2011
introduction

teeth must be brushed
with neem or miswak
or rubbing chalk or baking soda
or horse-tail hairs fixed to ox-bone
or with your modern toothbrush
with which if you brush too vigorously
you might swallow
especially
if you’re also thinking about ***;
and which you might regurgitate
if your boss comes to memory


and so
come, all ye
with clean teeth:
we shall speak today
of the origins of the toothbrush –
how did this begin,
this long-suffering toothbrush
put into foul mouths
or delicious mouths of maidens
and drowned in water and saliva and paste?
how indeed did it begin?
what is its genesis? its origin?



1
we must start with the stone age
when the best
those Brainless Beasts could do
was to use a fist
and so they punched each other
and broke all their teeth –
and perhaps that was just as well,
and they were clever
as they didn’t have to worry any longer
about brushing their teeth


then some-ape had a brilliant idea
(thanks to evolving intelligence)
and two would stand mouth to mouth
teeth to teeth
and would rub teeth against one another
and sure, they ended up
with lips and faces all cut asunder –
but hey, this was the Stone Age;
what do you expect them to do?
Be refined and all
with soft bristles and golden handles?
at least this way it brought humanity close


But God (He was Stone Age too,
and still is in many ways)
saw all these and He screamed from above:
Hey! Stop that, you Big Apes!
The first commandment I gave you all
was:
“Thou Shalt Not Kiss!”


And so with this First Commandment
God separated humanity forever…

Grunt!Grunt! said one Stone Age Oaf
which translated means: When can humanity kiss?

And God thought about it and said:
You got to evolve!
Wait till the advent
of a man called Voltaire
of the nation of the blue, white and red –
and that nation shall perfect the kiss.
Till then you brutes,
Thou shalt keep thy teeth clean.
Try something else, you imbeciles!


And Stone Age man,
left to their inventions, tried
smashing teeth against boulders instead




2
the dear Chinese
as you know
invented paper
and they also invented a toothbrush of horse-hair
with an ox-bone handle even in 1223
and since 1498 used the bristle toothbrush;
and from China it spread to the West
which Foreign Barbarians
after brushing their teeth
badmouthed the Chinese
and still, it is believed,
continue to do so


so, consider,
(and be grateful)
with the invention of paper
and the toothbrush
the Chinese really took care
of either end of the digestive system,
you know what I mean;
and who can beat that? -
they even give you Chinese takeaway
to eat before you brush;
and it’s worth repeating -
paper to take care of things after,
you know what I mean



conclusion**

and that ends our history
of the toothbrush;
and just remember
before you put it in your mouth,
the cockroach
(that blessed and most useful
of all God’s creatures)
has already cleaned it up
of all food bits and pieces
Classy J Nov 2016
Diving into bath salts, raving flue that is as sicking as math, at least that is what I conclude from my findings presented to the court. Objection, objection, sir I don't see the connection, maybe your rhyme scheme needs perfection. Maybe it does, but ***** it, I'm blessed by God; baby please sit down and take a chill pill and just enjoy this buzz. Busting off, so back off, bout to prove my case like I’m Ace Attorney, oh and I know it’s off topic but if I lived in America, I would’ve voted for Bernie. What the **** am I on? Came to save the digital world you can call me a digimon, you bet I’m a champion! Serendipity dear deputy; I’ll be typically wittingly searching for some tranquility. What is the validity of this vicinity as I only accept notability and won’t let this become a liability!

Pathologically paraplegic hypochondriac with insomniac who be popping poems profusely perfect; while whimsically worm's try to be strategic, but sadly choke and lose it. Miles set apart; it certainly is not a strut in some park, but everyone has to start somewhere before they engrave their mark. Don't reside yourself to just being a silhouette, nor be one to toot your clarinet. Two sides to every person like Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde; be careful to not let your pride turn into carbon monoxide. For pride will always lead to your downfall, so please take off your iron curtain and tear down your Berlin wall. Improvident incongruous incredulous confidence; underwhelming astonishment of such fundaments of these heinous and callous acts of deceitfulness. Trickery of thy decadence; why art though jittery when you are full of benevolence? So used to getting what you want I bet; well this situation can not be fixed by dough, so I see why you are in a cold sweat! Fake confidence won't help you here especially when one lies; you made a mistake and will face the consequences and I am not one quick to forgive no matter how much you apologize.  

Don’t have time to consider your sensibility, because my life is going a twitter with too much hyperactivity for me to deal with your stupidity. Befittingly that I’ll be building up the intensity, to infinity and beyond goes this creativity of this anomaly. Not going to prolong this phenomenon, I’ll be going off like a Molotov over this intercom, yeah you better not ever underestimate this underdog. Lackadaisical are these other rappers; they’re so replaceable and incapable to be educational. Incomprehensible is this loop of hip-hop now a days, why can’t we be inspirational or is it to late because we left morals and substance back in the olden days. Can’t afford to be anchored anymore, I’ve poured in too much time to be just be locked behind some door. I refuse to be ignored and be left ashore; I am not worried about going into the storm; because you are bound to come across some things that need some work like chores. Spinning the wheel, reminiscing of how it felt when I no longer concealed who I was and my self-image had been healed.

Used to be reclusive & convinced myself that I was a duffass, but now I’m exclusive to being a smart ***. This is the new era, this is a new fire; it’s time to spice things up so better pull out the sriracha. Leading the revolution like I’m Che Guevara, I’m light as feather whatever the endeavor even if my life story doesn’t end up as pristine as Cinderella’s. Why so infatuated by worldly wants? Why so decorated when you can't hide the fact that you're the same basic *** font? Trying be something else, striving to be someone else, wanting to be anything else. You are who you are, if you think it will make things better you cucu, because in my eyes you are really a star. You have to expand your interpretation and perspective of life, you have to demand without hesitation a piece of that collective pie; because I believe everyone should be equal in this life.

Calculated bullets that go straight through my cranium; manufactured outlets that show great things but have also turned us into brainless aliens. Complicated hookups that grow irritating and become as unstable as uranium; what was once sacred has become as spontaneous as going to a gymnasium. Confiscated trinkets cast away and leaves those affected very irritate; while also simultaneously making apathetic souls that have gone through the same thing be able to understand, help or relate. Cultivated rebellious culprits that don't take the memo of being cooperative, instead they choose to be provocative and opposite of the other conglomerates. I’m so fascinated by this fabricated segregated supposedly liberated and sophisticated community; where-as some so foolishly stupidly amusingly think that everyone has the same equal chance at opportunity. Moderated, regulated and orchestrated where some are situated; if you don’t think that it has something to do with be affiliated to a certain demographic then maybe you never got educated in the affairs of those discriminated. It’s a good thing then that class is in session; so viewer or listener  please use discretion when taking time to witness or hear my position. Deafening out all ill whims; wrestling with these unsettling menacing fears and guilt from all of my sins.

Yeah no need for hallucinogens, all I need is two hydrogens and one oxygen. Rocking in my moccasins; so you can bet I am not one to drop my promises. Native honour who is also a innovative scholar and who was created not to falter. I may not be good with numbers, but I'm good at making sure you never slumber on my words; because I work on them day and night in my 36 chambers. Beware the pretender, they are manufactured by the vendors to keep us from being together. Defend your heart; be wise who you befriend and who you pick for your counterpart. There will be hurt and affection can be perverted, so know your worth and never ever let yourself be distorted. It is not your fault, it is not my fault, so then who is at fault? Is it just life in general? Is it because of the being who lives eternal? Is it all of the above? I don't know, but we shouldn't judge and instead choose to accept and love!

Pardon me Martin, but if this class were a prison I’d be the warden. I make the rules here and I took the tools given to me to get me here. So listen, please listen to my lesson that I have to present to you as class is still in session. Loading yawl with ammunition to be able to transition to be able to complete your goals or missions. No I’m not tripping, I’m driven  by a higher force to break away the old ways of thinking such as division. This is not the prohibition anymore, so please open your minds and join me on this expedition. Going into the unknown, so here’s to hoping you get through this, as time goes on and be able to look back at it we may feel like this was no more than a tiny but important milestone.  Achieve, believe, conceive, receive, intrigue, and succeed because I think you are unique. You are the only you in the whole galaxy, don’t let agony turn into tragedy; ***** anxiety; yeah and never let your dreams just be some fantasy.

Outro: Sit down class ain't over yet, forfeit those frowns or fake faint or try to jet. Lastly remember what transpired today; don't go hastily and forget about it on December break okay? For though class may be over, more days or years to come until its finally over. Though education ends, one never stops learning even on vacations with family or friends.  I hope you can look back with fondness, I hope you can stay on track in the future if you truly take the time to just focus. Is there truly an end or is this just the beginning to a new bend.
Forth flashed the serpent streak of steel,
Consummate crown of man's device;
Down crashed upon an immobile
And brainless barrier of ice.
Courage!
The grey gods shoot a laughing lip: -
Let not faith founder with the ship!

We reel before the blows of fate;
Our stout souls stagger at the shock.
Oh! there is Something ultimate
Fixed faster than the living rock.
Courage!
Catastrophe beyond belief
Harden our hearts to fear and grief!

The gods upon the Titans shower
Their high intolerable scorn;
But no god knoweth in what hour
A new Prometheus may be born.
Courage!
Man to his doom goes driving down;
A crown of thorns is still a crown!

No power of nature shall withstand
At last the spirit of mankind:
It is not built upon the sand;
It is not wastrel to the wind.
Courage!
Disaster and destruction tend
To taller triumph in the end.
Jocelyn Robinson Mar 2014
In case you haven’t realized,
Our society is constantly teeter-tottering on the border between pure brilliance and tragic defeat.
A constant struggle that has left a sour taste on the tip of common tongues and has left this nation burnt out and lazy.

Somewhere along the line,
The sparks inside of people’s bellies trickled out into a dull roar and America decided to give up.
They gave up on prosperity.
They gave up on life.
They gave up on each other.

Somewhere along the line,
The common man concluded that failure was an option and responsibility was irrelevant.
That the only essence of life lied within an 8x10 cubicle,
And it was ok to conform to a system that led us into debt,
A system that led us into war,
And a system that led us into a borderline depression.

Masses decided that indulgence was greater than integrity.
It wasn’t their responsibility to make.
A
Difference.

But, Somewhere along that same bitter line,
The burning flame that is our generation, pushed through the social sidewalk.
We began to walk,
We began to talk,
And we began to show a greater for the future than anyone could have hoped to imagine.

In the midst of a rocky start, we forgot who were.
We masked themselves in Abercrombie and Hollister
To hide the fact that we are something better then a text message,
A clique,
Or Facebook.

It became “uncool” to actually know what you’re talking about.
We filled our sentences with lots of “likes” and “you knows?”
We tend to attach an upward inflection to the end of every declarative sentence.
You know, even if it’s not like and question, you know??

On our own we learned to speak
With
Conviction.

With that conviction,
Hold your own,
Know your name,
And say what you need to say even if it makes your heart pound,
Your hands sweaty.

Simply, because we are the people of tomorrow.
It is our job to fix brainless society.
But it cannot and will not work,
Unless we know what we stand for.

There is no misconception of the work we have cut out for us.
There will be troubled times, there will be tears,
There will be hard work,
And some of us will be lost along the way.

But our story is just unfolding and we have the power to
Change
The
World.

We’ve all heard the skeptic’s tale.
Skeptical teachers,
Skeptical parents,
And nonbelievers.
Raising doubts that we are too young,
That we are too naïve,
And that we’re utterly indifferent and careless to ever be a part of something bigger than ourselves.

Well, talk is cheap.
Make no mistake that there is beauty and potential in every
Single.
One of us.
Wake up today knowing that we've made it,
Know that the time has come to start living,
Changing,
But keeping true to our hearts.
Anna Jordan Mar 2010
The God of War sat upon his throne
In a wing of the Olympus palace
Under the sun his bloodied-eyes shone
Setting atremble his servants, Discord and Malice.

The wars below, as he viewed
Were hard fought and stalemates, it seemed
He sighed and spat, quite bemused
Why could no winner be deemed?

His bed of flesh from enemies gone
He rested within its dermal folds
The howl of the dying, singing its song
As Apollo’s chariot grew far and cold.

The roaring clamor of vicious scandal
Woke him from a bloodlight dream
And he looked below at victim and vandal
Appalled at the disastrous scene.

And Now, with Eos rise to morn
As the dew mixed with blood and sweat
Discord arrived to comfort her lord
Her company he did not regret.

“You have seen my battles
Look now below and explain
Mankind has become brainless as cattle
Look how they are, vile and maimed,”

“Milord, I see,” she spoke with grace
And her eyes did glint with fire
“Perhaps if you showed another face
The battle would be what you desire.”

And though her words were softly spoken
The answer they did present
And Great God Mars felt, at once, heartbroken
A message had to be sent.

Mercury, the winged messenger
With winged sandals and helmet
Arrived to be the harbinger
And was told to fly beyond the sunset.

“Beyond the sun and stars
There is a palace where a woman sits
Tell her that our Lord, God Mars
Invites her here, if she permits.”

Discord and Malice saw him off
And sweet Hermes, how he did fly
For the sound of war was not far-off
And nightly he heard people die.

The palace beyond the heavenly sky
Was one of silky web and silver
And within its courtyards did lie
A splendid woman that made him quiver.

This woman was Lady Nike
The very Goddess of Victory
Sister to Strength, Force and Rivalry
Who had fought the Titans in day old Glory.

The fair-ankled Nike heard the message
And smiled a fair, rosey smile
“Tell your lord that if he has the courage
to come and woo me here in my exile.”

When Ares heard this, he maddened with rage
and tore through Olympus with sword
and threw rocks down on the world stage
and sent hiding the servants, Malice and Discord.

Soon after saw Mars chariot race
Flying twice the pace of the sun
passing Mycenae and Athens face
to where the wooing would be done.

Aphrodite flew at his side
“God of War you’ll need  Beauty to aid
in wooing the Victory that hides away.”
The God of War grew weary and sore
and by the time he arrived at Nike’s door
his mood had taken a turn for the worse
and he muttered colorful curse.

Lady Nike was patiently waiting
For Victory is always calm
Her soft white dress billowing, baiting
An almond blossom in her palm.

At first Ares was rough and coarse
And Aphrodite grew red in the face
Seizing the reins, she stole his horse
While Nike kept him engaged.

The Goddess of Victory never made answer
Her voice quietly humming to the bloom
And though Ares voice cut like a cleaver
She paid it no heed, fearing no doom.

Ares grew tired and finally rested
Beneath her feet as she sat on the wall
Victory obviously had him bested
This had been a fruitless call.

Finally, Nike climbed down to join him
Her dark hair loosed from its plates
And in the dawns coming, the darkness dimmed
And she motioned beyond her gates.

The battle below was louder still here
And Nike gave him a glance and frowned
“Every night I listen and shed my tears
for no victory can be achieved on this ground.”

At hearing her voice and seeing some hope
Ares let a rough smile play on his lips
Finally she was going to put things in scope
But rather, she moved and gave him a kiss.

“Lie with me and perhaps...”and silence then
Ares agreed and the two made a retreat
And there, in her palace, deep within
Blazed a terrible and passionate heat.

When Ares awoke in the middle of the next day
He found Nike gone from her home
Cold and angry he rose, intent to be on his way
but Goddess Aphrodite had left him stranded, alone.

But then he heard the softest sigh
the sound of a babies voice
and stealing to the sea, there Nike lie
holding the prize of his choice.

Within her arms was the smallest of creations
A child so pale, so weak it might barely survive
But there was Nike, crowning it with starry carnations
Sure, it seemed, that the babe would stay alive.

“This is my daughter and yours”
said Nike of this newborn miracle
And slowly stepped forward the God Mars
And took the child, his rough hands careful.

“Her name is Ireni, Goddess of Peace
she will bring calm to the wars below
and be the most coveted in all of Greece
hair dark eyes brilliant, skin as snow.”

Nike smiled her wise smile and stood
Holding Ireni as gentle and kind as the child
A silence spread under evenings hood
the ****** scene turned serene and mild.

And though Victory was not claimed
The battles ended for the stress and fear
And from nights cloak, Ireni’s tears rained
wiping the blood and sweat and violence clear.

And peace remained upon the land
Until the great War of Troy
When Aphrodite and Zeus would play their hand
With fair Helen their devious ploy....
Epic Poem
Morgan Milligan Feb 2013
With all my heart I wish I could think with just my brain.
I wish emotions were easily controlled,
Like the wind
sometimes.
Harness its raw power and turn it into a type of energy that's pure,
Cleansing to the world.

But I guess there are tornadoes,
Who funnel into one destructive force,
Tearing down everything that was supposed to be permanent and leaving behind nothing
except a trail of desolate bareness littered with broken everything.

And then there's the hurricane.
The power and area it covers is immense, effectively covering everything in a dark shadow
and flooding the area.
In the center is the ebony hearth of the storm, the monster swirling around indefinitely,
whispering promises of catastrophe.
And no one is there to stop it,
Because everyone's already evacuated to somewhere more convenient.
Everyone's already moved on,
before the waters could flow and the hurricane could fully develop...


I hate when my heart starts

sk     ip     pi     ng

At the prospects of idealism, for dreams
Are sometimes not the logical choice but what is life without interest?
Disappointment is something I'm used to
In society,
In everyone's expectations,
in myself.


Why is the heart so painful?
Why is something that is so essential to life so easily ripped apart?
Why is mine always leading me in the direction my brain knows is wrong?
shåi Apr 2014
the mirror
divides where
the partition begins
between broken and free

i touch the glass
it imitates me
copies my every move
i must be confused

i touch the glass again
it still imitates me
showing the contour lines
of my every ****** expression
but then its gone
i must be very confused

i look hard into the glass
i see my face
i look harder
but this time its different

i first see my flaws
my imperfect perfections
what makes me whole
why should i look like a brainless doll?

i look harder once more
into the glass
and i see something
far more different

i see the girl
with the piercing
dark grey eyes
who has everything in
her life just sorted out

but then i see
the girl
with dark black
holes in her sockets
instead of eyes

this girl has
many marks on her body
signifying how many times
she has been hurting

i see a marking
on her forehead
it says LOST
it then begins to
cut a wound
into her scull

i try to forget
all these disturbing images
i have seen in this mirror
forgive and forget

hasn't it always been about forgiving and forgetting?

i'm not sure i want to forget anymore.

i want to remember.

i turn back
and look at the girl
with the deep dark eyes
i then see her mouth move

who are you?

(b.d.s.)
suggestions are always appreciated! :)
btw the title is is the word reflection backwards

chapter 1 of the reflection writing prompt.. chapter 2: Spiritual Death is out now
I am an African,
Just like you are,
Here I am in Africa,
From Africa,
I may speak,
Not your African language,
But a cataclysmic African,
Who speaks my African language,
I am.
An inferior African,
You may as you do,
Regard me,
But still,
African I am,
African I cry,
African I laugh,
African I sing,
African I live.


You have made me feel ashamed,
To be in this part of Africa,
But never,
Will you make me feel ashamed,
To be African,
Whatever derogatory labels,
You may stick on me,
No matter how unAfrican,
Kwerekwere, Grigamba or whatever,
But still,
I will be an African,
Even a much better one.


African,
Like my father,
His fore fathers,
And their forefathers,
African,
Just like I was yesterday,
African,
Just like I am now,
African,
That is what I will always be,
And African,
Forever.


According to the author, we are all foreigners in any country on this earth, more like tenants. No one has any claim to any portion of this earth for it belongs to God. The barbaric, self-centered and intolerant demeanor we have recently witnessed in South Africa tells the story of mindless teaks on a dog that are claiming to own the dog and solidifies the myth that Africa is a dark continent and Africans are still stuck in the animal kingdom. How do we dispute what is becoming more of a fact that “you can take Africans from the bush but you can never take the bush out of Africans”. Fellow South Africans (the perpetrators), you have proved to be more disgusting than ***** and the most befitting place for you is the sewage dump that is far away from Africa. If there was another Africa that is not this Africa, I would have done the obvious and most logical thing – to completely disassociate my dignified African self from the brainless, destructive, inhuman thugs that you are. Today, I am an African who is dead ashamed to be African!
According to the author, we are all foreigners in any country on this earth, more like tenants. No one has any claim to any portion of this earth for it belongs to God. The barbaric, self-centered and intolerant demeanor we have recently witnessed in South Africa tells the story of mindless teaks on a dog that are claiming to own the dog and solidifies the myth that Africa is a dark continent and Africans are still stuck in the animal kingdom. How do we dispute what is becoming more of a fact that “you can take Africans from the bush but you can never take the bush out of Africans”. Fellow South Africans (the perpetrators), you have proved to be more disgusting than ***** and the most befitting place for you is the sewage dump that is far away from Africa. If there was another Africa that is not this Africa, I would have done the obvious and most logical thing – to completely disassociate my dignified African self from the brainless, destructive, inhuman thugs that you are. Today, I am an African who is dead ashamed to be African!
A rest stop outside of Richmond VA.

The sun is bright and annoying as **** as usal the woman pull's up  in a brand new Mustang
cherry red gleams in the parking lot.
She's living the life but hey sometimes when ya stop to take a restroom break ***** happens.

Halfway back to Carolina me and my loyal hetro companion Bone.
Are doing what two full blooded American men would do riding like bats outta hell
going through this womans cd collection Alanis Morrisett dear lord man do they hand these ******* out as soon as they get there periods?

But isnt it ironic dont ya think?
Flying down the interstate music blasting beers gathering on the floor like brainless ***** at a
Justin Bieber concert.
I gaze into the rearview only to come to realize like weirdos in a schoolyard we are not alone.

Looking at from the backseat appeared to be some sort of old ****** in a diper hey ***** but whatever
floats your boat jesus these flashbacks are getting to be hell.

My amigo slash  fellow tripper of the light fantastic was in  a trance already
into track seven you oughta know the brainwashing was a ******* dam lesbian **** front!
Even I was fighting the urge to go to the lilth fair and stop shaving but the fellas
were so against the natural look oh snap.

Bone dear lord snap outta it were not in a movie thearter!
Sorry Gonz what the ***** up ?
Well my mexican amigo I belive theres a little perve dwarf in the backseat that or that acid
crazy Larry sold me really is kicking my ****.

Looking at me like most do with that strange since of hey should i just get out here
or go with the trip he looked for a second.
Silent in a awkward sense like when my prom date caught me masterbaiting in her closet the night befor
hey it looked better on me anyways  yeah dont ask.

Bone finally spoke you crazy ***** it's a ******* kid **** we stole a ******* kid were so ******.
Jesus we had both been so safe how was i gonna explain this i thought deeply then finally
took a detor from my usal insanity to do something i seldom do.
Think.  

Well Bone looks like were gonna have to get a abortion.
It's already born *******.
My deep thinking and total drunk amigo made a good point it would get kinda messy.

Well maybe we can check it's collar or drop it in the post office box or even a dumpster
hey dont knock it thats where momma gonzo misplaced me strippers there so care free
and total ***** im just saying but enough  bout Katy Perry

Dude are you totally ****** nuts?
It was at that moment the little bald man began to cry.
Bone calm down cant you see your upsetting it Jesus wheres my manners give him this.

Gonz dude it's my last one.
Bone had a point but this little hairless doorstop needed to take the edge off so
the beer was his.

Miles passed as we thought what to do but with this little jumping bean
it wasnt gonna be easy getting into the ******* or getting him a fake ID.
course we could always say he was that dwarf from Austin Powers
But hey even I had some morals the poor little ******* had it bad enough let alone to be connected
to Mike Myers im just saying.

The ride to grandma Gonzos chop shop proved to long for my two drunken companions hey it was past Bones bed time after all he starts drinking at 6 am  .
I gazed down apon the little amigo as he slept so peaceful must have just had a ******* ahh memories.

Then Bone finally came to Gonz what the **** dude I told you stop cuddling with me people are gonna talk!
Like they havent already just go with it and yes I am happy to see you.
After a brief fight and some make up hugs and cookies mmm cookies and ****** harassment it goes togather like poetry and misery winning.

Gonz where the hell is the kid?
My friend seemed concerned I wonder did these two have something going on
yeah maybe that was it hmmm never trust a drunk or a bald headed dwarf in a diper
but grandpa wasnt all that bad.

Gonz wheres the baby !
The sound of the car being crushed made it hard to hear yet still I could here jagged little pill
playing ranting bout what true ****** men were amen to that sister.
Jesus that Canadian ***** died hard!

  Gonz !
Finally I snapped outta my trance oh yeah that dwarf dont worry he's in the trunk.
The trunk! The ******* trunk!
Hey dont worry I left him some beer and penuts jesus man calm down must been his time of the month.

Bone was frantic like when he herd there wasa beer truck overturned on the interstate.
Tears rolled down his eye's once like any good friend i did what all true men do when a bro is crying.
Video taped it and put it on you tube to laugh my *** off later.

Gonz how could you ?
Bone he's in a better place now whats wrong?
You killed him how could you destroy such a innocent thing.

Dear lord I know my pinto is old but it's far from a deatn trap well okay it kinda is but relax
see i popped the trunk grapped the little hamster by the leg held him up high
he's fine a little stinky hey if he cant hold his  ***** thats his issue.
Btw where do we get feed for this thing cause im almost outta dog biscuts?

After Bone finally stopped being such a drama queen Jesus that album had some strange powers.
We were off with are little stinky drunken friend brothers bent on sharing experience
and drugs and maybe some strippers hey kids are chick magnets im just saying
I should have stole one ages ego.

We laughed we cried we found out dipers can really get filled up .
He sometimes it's best not to hold everything in.

And as are money flew from us like braincells from a ******* shoot.
I called the smartest most rational person i knew Richard Shepard.
Who after cussing me for waking him up at 3 in the morning finally explained
it all to me Jesus who ever knew thats where babies came from.

So there we parted togatehr the three amigo's
Man what a party hey Bone?
Dam right hey Gonz i got the stamps on his forehead help me get him in the
post office box.

And after a brief moment like my mind are little amigo was gone
Outta are lives.
We stood there silent.
Hey Gonz wanna go back to the *******.
Amigo all i gotta say is **** yeah !

And like that we were off to more adventures that rambled on for hors till ya want to strangle me or take me home and keep me like a demented perverted puppy that although seemed cute
if petted would just **** your leg.

A week later

the woman sat there with little wahtever the hell his name was in his high chair.
Harvey get the camera I think he's gonna say his first word.
The two parent's so excited  come on whatever the hell your name is say it it.

The little rascal grinned from ear to looking at the object of most means thoughts
I belive the proper term is *******.
Building up the strength from somewhere deep inside.
His parent's so excited and happy he was gonna talk also  hahaha im not right.

Finally little whats his name spoke
****!  ****! ****!
His parents stunned I told you frank not to cuss around him.
I didnt and my names not Frank *****!

***** you I told you your family's ****** up side would ***** everything up.
Yeah couldnt be the total ***** side rubbed off either huh?
It was like a scene from the Waltons.
Little whats his name speaking his first word  two parents
cussing each other out it's so holesome reminds me of home.

Untill next time watch your kids cause theres some bad influences out there
unlike my wholesome ****.
Stay crazy Gonzo
At the coldest of all times,
     In the presence of harsh weather,
     I as a grass,
     As helpless as ever;

     Too much cook spoils the broil,
     That's why grazing brings so much boil,
     To the forsaken grasses,
     Who can deliver their spleen to nobody,
Favour! But to themselves!

     The rain flogs the hell,
     The sun scorches the heaven,
     Out of the grasses, as a spell,
     They can deliver their spleen uneven
Favour! But to themselves!

     The brainless bulk of extractive meat,
     Also move to them to cheat,
     And graze until they are tired,
     Mindless of whether the grasses are fired.
     Do they not know that the **** of the fowl aches?
     Or do they pretend that they do not.
     Can they just eat their cakes?
     And continue to keep their font?

     Being a grass,
     For full days of the hours,
    I see our helplessness,
    I feel the harsh treatment we have received,
    And the many ways we have been deceived.
    Erosion comes and sweeps us away!
    Rain falls and saps our nutrients away!
    Sun shines and shrinks our leaves unprunned!
    The brainless bulk of extractive meat graze and
    chew us away!
    Our colours turn to milkless tea!
     At whose mercy are we?

     As a grass, I cry, I weep
    But no help comes...
    I'm short of words...
   Yet no help comes...
Nigeria!
   Where is the future of your people-the grasses!
   As favour is to themselves!
This is a clarion call to all Nigerians;talking about how our leaders cheat us and leave our country in shambles as a result of corruption and their selfish desires. We all need to pray for Nigeria because we all belong here. God bless you.
Kate Apr 2011
No.
It is not ok with me to say that.
Gay is not a synonym for stupid.
Gay is not an insult, and I will not allow you to use it like one.

It is because of people like you
That our society is intolerant, ignorant, and unforgiving.
It is because of people like you
That our society revolves around the chauvinistic cult
That men are not manly if they don’t show preference
For a butts and **** attached
To a brainless body.

It is because of people like you
That hundreds of tormented, depressed teens attempt suicide
Every year.
It is because of people like you
That many succeed.

It is because of you
That one of my best friends is addicted to drugs
Struggling with alcoholism
And self-loathing
Because he can’t admit to himself
That he might be gay.

So no.
It is not ok with me.
That you are openly homophobic.
Because what if I were gay?
With my pretty face and big *****,
Would you treat me differently?
Would you still joke around and flirt?

Because in the end,
Homophobia is the same thing as
Xenophobia
Racism
And sexism.

And the only thing that separates you
And the openly gay boy that you
Hate so much
is that he has strength to go against the
very tide
that has swept you and morals away.
Epic Monkey Jan 2015
Standing there
With a mute stare
Amazed by you
Paralyzed by you
I became a speechless poet
No free-flowing words to inhibit
Stuck in redundant phrases
Running around in silent mazes

My bright poetry is suddenly evanescent
How did you freeze my precious talent?
My fancy lies
and my sincere confessions
My angry cries
and my serene discretions

My skill dies
distorted by your presence
As my voice tries
hardly a single expression
Then my brain denies
your acute aggression
As my fixed eyes
scream my inner passion

Then you left.

You left
But I stayed there
With my mute stare
Speechless because of you
Brainless because of you
My stupidity crystal clear
My creativity in denial
And you left me here
wishing you stayed near
Suffering from your withdrawal

~Epic Monkey
Blu3moth Jun 2017
"Where do you see yourself in five years?"
"Hopefully done with college"
"Married with a couple of kids"
"Buying my own house and starting a business"
"No debt. Everything, student loans and car payments gone"
The typical answers to that question
Want to know mine?
I never saw my future as bright
Hell never thought I'll get this far
I can see the end of my path
Where do I see myself in five years?
Depressed if I'm not already
Homeless because of my pride
Jobless because my stupidity
No one to turn to because of my negativity
Love is no where near me
That's the last thing on my mind
After food
After drink
After a roof over my brainless head
There's too much going on
No one will help me
Why would they?
It's all my own fault
So the answer to your question
In a different world
Hopefully a better one
After this one is behind me
s u r r e a l Jul 2016
one--two--covered streams,
staining palms of the undiscovered,
they have holes in ears--for you--their mouths are wide--wide--open--!
yet they hide 'neath tender shield.

peekaboo, I don't see you.
for the flowers cry not for the see-ers,
but for the cut and tears.

bite into your wrist,
and watch the ache and finished work flow,
into ******* and tired vocab,
as it is merely zilch you're destined to grow.

wide--wide open,
yet you bawl not,
how will you get your food now, O dear?
simply let the ocean run hot.

they will not bother with whiners,
whose lips that starve,
the words now old timers,
and the blood that was carved.

dig deep--dig deep, my love,
and find nothing but ash.
die penniless--die penniless, O dove,
and thrive on the sunken ****.

they drink eulogies,
from soft gray tongues,
and murmur carelessly,
for the young-uns.

the world won't wait--
forever moves it--
**** the weak--the hard workers,
and take up the one shot-ers.

simply how the horse drinks it's water,
and how the earth soaks in rain.
nothing--nothing--nothin' but minor,
and disappointing.

simplicity rings the loudest bell,
and thought sings drooping tunes.
for the world hides not and tells.

and blossoms melt in places anew,
merely brainless--brainless--!
and the shield slips from blue.

for now the world is clear,
and doesn't care for the sanguine ruin in those eyes,
let your work fade--let your work fade, my babe,

play peekaboo a little longer, and drag the sword between the lies.
Even if you feel undiscovered, drag the sword between the lies and bloom them anew.
Do people ever truly lose there mind or were they always ******* bat **** to begin with?
I believe half this earth is run by insane people most of which have way to much power and far to little sense .

The ******* radio is a great example ever listen modern music ?
You know that **** that doesn't require any talent to preform just a record player and some half wit to rap along with so you can have a remix yes country music is vile enough let alone throw in a nerd that would **** if he got his thirty thousand dollar sneakers ***** once are made in some sweatshop for ten cents a pop yeah how ******* fashionable .

And remember when you had to play a ******* instrument to have a record out?
Yeah I'm so old fashioned I mean sure kids wear all the  shirts to half the bands I grew up with and have no ******* clue who the bands are but yes the world is stupid and you wonder why I drink.

Just like people who believe the world really gives a **** there having a bad day # who gives a **** Twitter is for stupid ***** and celebrities who have as  much depth as a public toilet but are far less clean.

People always read me and believe I am this nice easy going goofy drunken ******* who only lives to make them laugh and talk about ******* well who doesn't like ******* there awesome.

Hey Gonz do you like kids ?
No I don't !
Why ?
Cause they always annoy the **** out of me when I'm trying to sleep off a good ****** in the park really whatever happened to letting the TV raise them hey I look at me I didn't turn out so.
Umm well okay so I'm a little ****** up .

Hey do you ever get tired of being funny or find it hard to come up with new things to pick on?
Well just watch the evening news for a second and head down to the local bar or that gate of hell Wal-Mart and look at all those ******'s who believe they have to buy **** just cause its on sale yeah sure why not buy two hundred rolls of toilet paper  cause you never know when the world may end and the zombie apocalypse will begin .

Newsflash when the world does cease to exist you probably will to and when your starving to death or being burned alive I really doubt that wiping your *** is going to be your top priority .

And we already live amongst zombies   there called yuppies and those I phone twitter loving instagram ******* are ******* everywhere and driving while doing all this **** so pick your head up and watch out!!!

I recently was on a little road trip and while in Evansville Indiana as me and my head cheerleader were riding around the city late at night we were ran into by a young and brainless little **** who admitted she was texting and driving and as I sat there waiting for officer fat **** to arrive to give this cyber **** a ticket .

Yes Indiana it's slogan should be hey are you ******* lost?
Yeah I know I'm a real people person .

Anyways as I sat there viewing what looked like babe Ruth in a bullet proof vest hand out a ticket as he sweat out gravy I had to question with  fifty lares of flesh for padding was there really a need for the vest?

They say when you go insane it's hard to truly rejoin society .
But honestly after looking at half the strung out loony toon's that are considered normal why the **** would you ever care to be part of there brain dead **** storm ?

And since when did the news care what was popular on ******* You tube?

Todays top stories the worlds on the verge of self destruction, A man kidnapped a child ***** her for several years has five kids with her but later on that right now let's check out this cute cat video.
yes the worlds obsessed with ***** .
And you thought it was just me.

And why do teachers now all **** there students and where were these horney ******* when I was going to school.
Yeah having to settle for a ******* from the janitor just wasn't the same.
Although he did have a fantastic grip I'm kidding.

And why  do people even own TV's duh cause books are to much like work but hey remember to buy mine cause it has  plenty of pictures  yeah what isn't poetic about ****?

Yes I can imagine what the great writers from the past would think of the new bestsellers.

Who doesn't like books about gay *** wizards and **** vampires that glimmer in the light yeah I didn't read it duh I saw the movie *******
yeah you may laugh but whatever got my sixteen year old girlfriend in the mood was alright by me I'm  kidding again she was twenty one at the time least that's what her fake Id said.

Yeah least I'm not as bad as Micheal Jackson  cause I'm actually alive that is duh.
Yeah he didn't have issues he just a ******* amusement park in his back yard .
Me I'd prefer a ******* or maybe a mall yeah don't ask.

Common sense nowadays it makes people laugh and the key to humor is always truth people are all ****** up hell just look at me I'm truly insane I own my own bar I get paid to write I do stand up for free drinks but honestly would you really want me doing anything else?

Attention this is your captain speaking umm look I really  don't know how to put this but I forgot to gas up before we left so looks like were all going to die as we crash into the earth and burn to death.
Yeah my bad .

But hey I want to thank you all for flying delta and please remember the do not smoking light is on yeah sure your probably going to be busted into a million pieces but heaven forbid the ***** next to you catches a whiff of smoke before he dies.

Loosen the **** up cause your not going to live forever  .
People are so uptight afraid to say **** or disagree with each other cause we all need to think alike like a bunch of ******* lemmings.

I grew up around backwoods rednecks I lived in the city slept in the ******* street okay there's no difference in people except real ******* people aren't scared to **** others off they are who they are and if you like them great and if you don't then ******* life's to dam short to sweat the ******* and this high school mentality needs to truly get ****** the worlds messed up so embrace it .

Like me, Hate me at least you never have to guess what I really think .

Stay crazy kids cause the normal ***** of this life are usually  total closet freaks who **** hookers on the side and make bombs in grandmas kitchen .

It's a shame cause a good ****** is a terrible a terrible thing to waste.

Well hamsters until next time this has been your bartender for life with your friendly perverted public service announcement we now return you to your regular scheduled program right smack in the middle so you wont know what the **** happened cause we can nah nah.

And if I somehow offended you please fell free to write to.

Gonzo's complaint department in care  of .
105 It's called a ******* joke way .

Cheers Gonzo
theres no brain inside a clock
but it can tick and it can tock
keep in rhythm keep in time
on the hour it can chime
fingers move around the face
both together both in place
alarm goes off time to rise
it has no brain but very wise.
Madison Y Sep 2015
He cries, tells her it's the last time.
Cherry lips and violet eyes,
She lies because she's so broken
She can't remember how it felt to be whole.
A boy too small to fight,
Though that doesn't stop him from trying;
A little girl who will never know that love doesn't include bruises and broken bones.
She could leave,
But she knows he'd find her as he has so many times,
Wandering the highway somewhere between the 5th and 9th time
She ponders whether it hurts worse to live or die.
Her baby in her arms and one trailing behind,
A shotgun aimed between her eyes,
She'll climb inside his old blue pickup truck,
Which is somehow colder than the October night.

She hears the whispers—
Illegal. Dependent. Brainless.
Can they not see their own reflection in her tired eyes
And realize that if the stars aligned differently,
They could have been the one wearing sweaters in the summer
And sunglasses in the grocery store?
As she pushes the shopping cart home,
She says a silent prayer that he'll be gone,
But he never is.
When her nose bleeds on the tile
She no longer cries,
Just syncs the pounding in her head with her heartbeat, screaming,
It's over. It's over. It's over. It's—
Ken Pepiton Apr 2019
What are you conserving, I asked my unread conservative friend.
The American Way

he said.
Like
in the songs, like back when Superman
was black and white, but

we knew,
his kryptonic heart
was read pure white and blue

and we still know,
green greed and
black time and chance, if those were never re-
al-ified, he could be,
he could be but,
for that militarial industrial mental complex
which made
Daddy Warbucks
money-ify Kryptonite,

other wise Superman would save us, so
we conserve the idea of America, as a spirit,
Drums and fifes and shots fired round the world

we stand, for the American way. Superman would.
--------

With what deeds are you judged liberal,

I asked my friend whose hero was Fidel,
when he was ten.

My friend, swift to answer, ready, with a bullhorn:

my writing and my speaking and my teaching are liberal.

Those lable you? what is deemed liberality for which
ye are judged?

Oh, I am not judged, I am in the adminstrative side,
I administer social justice by allowing critical
appreciation of the sense under lying
dadaistic community
gardens. which produce liberal reasons for
deeming faith a very low class
exercise in sapient sapience.

Whom teach ye?
Those who are sent to be taught by selection committees,
who sort tests, based on statiscal
weights and measures pre
dicted apriori for the best
social cultural
outcome.

Who pays you? Each of you.
con-server, liberal,
Who weighed your worth
in this fifty-fifty polictic project,

organical and all,

who runs the show? Is it spiracy?

Are elections pre ordained?

Was W. called by Oil and Trump oracled by Konami?
Was Barack Husein simply gas?
A UFO illusion?

Some thing the gut biome of the nation
burped or expelled from other orficees?

How did the assets of the fed expand
4.5 times since 2008,

when all I had conserved melted
with deflation of

the noise, zeitgeistiical,
humm, hear it? Do you?
Brainless axiomatic synaptic static?

Manifest destiny? Google it.

No. I checked. Not preordained. Things change.

This is the way.

Good went, thataway... and william tell
was told that apple held meaning...

cue the overture...
butadump butadump butadumpdumpdump
boomer audio meme keys
the
dream, with wikipedia and etymonline links.

aha, meaning...
the arrow never held, the message vibrated in the oak
at a point
in time. Okay, dress rehearse, masks on.

The point of the story is, good news.
it is finished.  Spaceship earth, nothing broken, nothing missing,

We have crews seeking survivors.

one day at a time. Share the road, share the load,
pay the piper, rule your realm,

make peace the leisure you worked for,
call enough enough

Remind them of the flight they all recall,
ask them if they ever dream
unknown
realisms in the realms of reasons re
cognized
in poetseerprophessor metaphors, in which

no warrior could act

as a liberal conserver re
pairing wind blown circuits.

Our peacemade hero inquisitor
of truth,

the wise king, retires on the dragon's hoard and
laughs at how easy it all became,

after imagining how Poke' mon really works,
in an open state of mind.

"A republic, if you can keep it." that was the dream.
The dream Plato imagined could work,

if we could get past that
neccessary fiction war insisted was traditional.
Intended for the verbatim bookstore open mic, 4-8-2019
Steven McNevets Jun 2015
What is the world turning into?
.....
....
...
..
.
Why are things becoming LESS?
.
..
...
....
.....
Phones are now wireless
People , homeless
Food, tasteless
Children, Fatherless
Wives, Fearless
Husbands, Restless
Love, Priceless
Lovers, Heartless
Graduates, Jobless
Economy, Cashless
Government, Manage less
Friends, Brainless
Drivers, Reckless
Words, Meaningless

All these are just Senseless
.
.
.
In Fact, I am..... Speechless
James Hill Apr 2015
Some people might not accept it
But don't you accept that
Any homophobes are just brainless prats
It's not our fault we are different
And define different anyway
Because it really doesn't matter if your lesbian or gay
Ignore any insults that come your way
Because the hate is a plate and the person is a tray
So knock that tray over and let them clean up the mess
And remember just because you love more doesn't make you any less
I built my soul a lordly pleasure-house,
    Wherein at ease for aye to dwell.
I said, "O Soul, make merry and carouse,
      Dear soul, for all is well."

  A huge crag-platform, smooth as burnish'd brass
    I chose. The ranged ramparts bright
From level meadow-bases of deep grass
      Suddenly scaled the light.

  Thereon I built it firm. Of ledge or shelf
    The rock rose clear, or winding stair.
My soul would live alone unto herself
      In her high palace there.

  And "while the world runs round and round," I said,
    "Reign thou apart, a quiet king,
Still as, while Saturn whirls, his steadfast shade
      Sleeps on his luminous ring."

  To which my soul made answer readily:
    "Trust me, in bliss I shall abide
In this great mansion, that is built for me,
      So royal-rich and wide."

* * * *

  Four courts I made, East, West and South and North,
    In each a squared lawn, wherefrom
The golden gorge of dragons spouted forth
      A flood of fountain-foam.

  And round the cool green courts there ran a row
    Of cloisters, branch'd like mighty woods,
Echoing all night to that sonorous flow
      Of spouted fountain-floods.

  And round the roofs a gilded gallery
    That lent broad verge to distant lands,
Far as the wild swan wings, to where the sky
      Dipt down to sea and sands.

  From those four jets four currents in one swell
    Across the mountain stream'd below
In misty folds, that floating as they fell
      Lit up a torrent-bow.

  And high on every peak a statue seem'd
    To hang on tiptoe, tossing up
A cloud of incense of all odour steam'd
      From out a golden cup.

  So that she thought, "And who shall gaze upon
    My palace with unblinded eyes,
While this great bow will waver in the sun,
      And that sweet incense rise?"

  For that sweet incense rose and never fail'd,
    And, while day sank or mounted higher,
The light aerial gallery, golden-rail'd,
      Burnt like a fringe of fire.

  Likewise the deep-set windows, stain'd and traced,
    Would seem slow-flaming crimson fires
From shadow'd grots of arches interlaced,
      And tipt with frost-like spires.

* * *

  Full of long-sounding corridors it was,
    That over-vaulted grateful gloom,
Thro' which the livelong day my soul did pass,
      Well-pleased, from room to room.

  Full of great rooms and small the palace stood,
    All various, each a perfect whole
From living Nature, fit for every mood
      And change of my still soul.

  For some were hung with arras green and blue,
    Showing a gaudy summer-morn,
Where with puff'd cheek the belted hunter blew
      His wreathed bugle-horn.

  One seem'd all dark and red--a tract of sand,
    And some one pacing there alone,
Who paced for ever in a glimmering land,
      Lit with a low large moon.

  One show'd an iron coast and angry waves.
    You seem'd to hear them climb and fall
And roar rock-thwarted under bellowing caves,
      Beneath the windy wall.

  And one, a full-fed river winding slow
    By herds upon an endless plain,
The ragged rims of thunder brooding low,
      With shadow-streaks of rain.

  And one, the reapers at their sultry toil.
    In front they bound the sheaves. Behind
Were realms of upland, prodigal in oil,
      And hoary to the wind.

  And one a foreground black with stones and slags,
    Beyond, a line of heights, and higher
All barr'd with long white cloud the scornful crags,
      And highest, snow and fire.

  And one, an English home--gray twilight pour'd
    On dewy pastures, dewy trees,
Softer than sleep--all things in order stored,
      A haunt of ancient Peace.

  Nor these alone, but every landscape fair,
    As fit for every mood of mind,
Or gay, or grave, or sweet, or stern, was there,
      Not less than truth design'd.

* * *

  Or the maid-mother by a crucifix,
    In tracts of pasture sunny-warm,
Beneath branch-work of costly sardonyx
      Sat smiling, babe in arm.

  Or in a clear-wall'd city on the sea,
    Near gilded *****-pipes, her hair
Wound with white roses, slept St. Cecily;
      An angel look'd at her.

  Or thronging all one porch of Paradise
    A group of Houris bow'd to see
The dying Islamite, with hands and eyes
      That said, We wait for thee.

  Or mythic Uther's deeply-wounded son
    In some fair space of sloping greens
Lay, dozing in the vale of Avalon,
      And watch'd by weeping queens.

  Or hollowing one hand against his ear,
    To list a foot-fall, ere he saw
The wood-nymph, stay'd the Ausonian king to hear
      Of wisdom and of law.

  Or over hills with peaky tops engrail'd,
    And many a tract of palm and rice,
The throne of Indian Cama slowly sail'd
      A summer fann'd with spice.

  Or sweet Europa's mantle blew unclasp'd,
    From off her shoulder backward borne:
From one hand droop'd a crocus: one hand grasp'd
      The mild bull's golden horn.

  Or else flush'd Ganymede, his rosy thigh
    Half-buried in the Eagle's down,
Sole as a flying star shot thro' the sky
      Above the pillar'd town.

  Nor these alone; but every legend fair
    Which the supreme Caucasian mind
Carved out of Nature for itself, was there,
      Not less than life, design'd.

* * *

  Then in the towers I placed great bells that swung,
    Moved of themselves, with silver sound;
And with choice paintings of wise men I hung
      The royal dais round.

  For there was Milton like a seraph strong,
    Beside him Shakespeare bland and mild;
And there the world-worn Dante grasp'd his song,
      And somewhat grimly smiled.

  And there the Ionian father of the rest;
    A million wrinkles carved his skin;
A hundred winters snow'd upon his breast,
      From cheek and throat and chin.

  Above, the fair hall-ceiling stately-set
    Many an arch high up did lift,
And angels rising and descending met
      With interchange of gift.

  Below was all mosaic choicely plann'd
    With cycles of the human tale
Of this wide world, the times of every land
      So wrought, they will not fail.

  The people here, a beast of burden slow,
    Toil'd onward, *****'d with goads and stings;
Here play'd, a tiger, rolling to and fro
      The heads and crowns of kings;

  Here rose, an athlete, strong to break or bind
    All force in bonds that might endure,
And here once more like some sick man declined,
      And trusted any cure.

  But over these she trod: and those great bells
    Began to chime. She took her throne:
She sat betwixt the shining Oriels,
      To sing her songs alone.

  And thro' the topmost Oriels' coloured flame
    Two godlike faces gazed below;
Plato the wise, and large brow'd Verulam,
      The first of those who know.

  And all those names, that in their motion were
    Full-welling fountain-heads of change,
Betwixt the slender shafts were blazon'd fair
      In diverse raiment strange:

  Thro' which the lights, rose, amber, emerald, blue,
    Flush'd in her temples and her eyes,
And from her lips, as morn from Memnon, drew
      Rivers of melodies.

  No nightingale delighteth to prolong
    Her low preamble all alone,
More than my soul to hear her echo'd song
      Throb thro' the ribbed stone;

  Singing and murmuring in her feastful mirth,
    Joying to feel herself alive,
Lord over Nature, Lord of the visible earth,
      Lord of the senses five;

  Communing with herself: "All these are mine,
    And let the world have peace or wars,
'T is one to me." She--when young night divine
      Crown'd dying day with stars,

  Making sweet close of his delicious toils--
    Lit light in wreaths and anadems,
And pure quintessences of precious oils
      In hollow'd moons of gems,

  To mimic heaven; and clapt her hands and cried,
    "I marvel if my still delight
In this great house so royal-rich, and wide,
      Be flatter'd to the height.

  "O all things fair to sate my various eyes!
    O shapes and hues that please me well!
O silent faces of the Great and Wise,
      My Gods, with whom I dwell!

  "O God-like isolation which art mine,
    I can but count thee perfect gain,
What time I watch the darkening droves of swine
      That range on yonder plain.

  "In filthy sloughs they roll a prurient skin,
    They graze and wallow, breed and sleep;
And oft some brainless devil enters in,
      And drives them to the deep."

  Then of the moral instinct would she prate
    And of the rising from the dead,
As hers by right of full accomplish'd Fate;
      And at the last she said:

  "I take possession of man's mind and deed.
    I care not what the sects may brawl.
I sit as God holding no form of creed,
      But contemplating all."

* * * *

  Full oft the riddle of the painful earth
    Flash'd thro' her as she sat alone,
Yet not the less held she her solemn mirth,
      And intellectual throne.

  And so she throve and prosper'd; so three years
    She prosper'd: on the fourth she fell,
Like Herod, when the shout was in his ears,
      Struck thro' with pangs of hell.

  Lest she should fail and perish utterly,
    God, before whom ever lie bare
The abysmal deeps of Personality,
      Plagued her with sore despair.

  When she would think, where'er she turn'd her sight
    The airy hand confusion wrought,
Wrote, "Mene, mene," and divided quite
      The kingdom of her thought.

  Deep dread and loathing of her solitude
    Fell on her, from which mood was born
Scorn of herself; again, from out that mood
      Laughter at her self-scorn.

  "What! is not this my place of strength," she said,
    "My spacious mansion built for me,
Whereof the strong foundation-stones were laid
      Since my first memory?"

  But in dark corners of her palace stood
    Uncertain shapes; and unawares
On white-eyed phantasms weeping tears of blood,
      And horrible nightmares,

  And hollow shades enclosing hearts of flame,
    And, with dim fretted foreheads all,
On corpses three-months-old at noon she came,
      That stood against the wall.

  A spot of dull stagnation, without light
    Or power of movement, seem'd my soul,
'Mid onward-sloping motions infinite
      Making for one sure goal.

  A still salt pool, lock'd in with bars of sand,
    Left on the shore, that hears all night
The plunging seas draw backward from the land
      Their moon-led waters white.

  A star that with the choral starry dance
    Join'd not, but stood, and standing saw
The hollow orb of moving Circumstance
      Roll'd round by one fix'd law.

  Back on herself her serpent pride had curl'd.
    "No voice," she shriek'd in that lone hall,
"No voice breaks thro' the stillness of this world:
      One deep, deep silence all!"

  She, mouldering with the dull earth's mouldering sod,
    Inwrapt tenfold in slothful shame,
Lay there exiled from eternal God,
      Lost to her place and name;

  And death and life she hated equally,
    And nothing saw, for her despair,
But dreadful time, dreadful eternity,
      No comfort anywhere;

  Remaining utterly confused with fears,
    And ever worse with growing time,
And ever unrelieved by dismal tears,
      And all alone in crime:

  Shut up as in a crumbling tomb, girt round
    With blackness as a solid wall,
Far off she seem'd to hear the dully sound
      Of human footsteps fall.

  As in strange lands a traveller walking slow,
    In doubt and great perplexity,
A little before moon-rise hears the low
      Moan of an unknown sea;

  And knows not if it be thunder, or a sound
    Of rocks thrown down, or one deep cry
Of great wild beasts; then thinketh, "I have found
      A new land, but I die."

  She howl'd aloud, "I am on fire within.
    There comes no murmur of reply.
What is it that will take away my sin,
      And save me lest I die?"

  So when four years were wholly finished,
    She threw her royal robes away.
"Make me a cottage in the vale," she said,
      "Where I may mourn and pray.

  "Yet pull not down my palace towers, that are
    So lightly, beautifully built:
Perchance I may return with othe
Pink Kator Aug 2010
Someday I'll show you,
I'll prove I'm not just some useless ******
who needs to borrow your car, mom.
Someday you'll see
I'm not just a  brainless pothead gettin
      ****** in the backyard
I'll take these working arms
And buy my own **** car
And some drugs on the side
Smoke *** in my own ride
Trip out in my own backyard
       Just wait and see
           I'll go far

I know you're confused and I know
       you don't see
But I figured out which lock goes to
        which key.
I know you're worried
    But, baby, there's no danger
I figured out the universe,
   So life is now a treasure

I want you to stop worrying
that I'm smoking cigarettes
I think those things are nasty
If you don't know that yet

Just stop worrying, stop spazzing
I promise I'll keep the noise down
And soon I'll find my own place
That I can be loud in
Don't you worry my dear,
My mind is clear, my thoughts
    are holy
This smoke helps my depression,
Helps spark my inspiration
So don't worry, ma'am  
I'll stop livin' in your basement
And I promise I'll share my riches
When I stop trippin', starin' at the wall
Cause that's all I'm doin'
There ain't no harm at all

Everything is just as it should be
I'm happy
I'm finally free,
Only light around me
So don't worry mom,
and I'm sorry I keep you up
So late at night
Brent Kincaid Mar 2016
Hush all you voters, don’t say a word
Or you’ll be sued by a great big ****.
He’s loud, obnoxious and has orange hair.
You can hear him lying almost everywhere.

He thinks he’s rich and a moral man
But actually he’s just like the Ku Klux ****.
He has an endless supply of brainless rants
Aimed at non-whites and the immigrants.

He thinks it is time we let morality pass
And started kicking some immigrant ***.
And if that immigrant’s mouth grows fat
Trumpy gonna hit him with a baseball bat.

And if that immigrant acts sad..
Trumpy gonna treat them like Islamabad.
If Mexico gets ****** at all.
Trumpy gonna build up a great big wall.

And if the taxpayers say ‘No!’
Trumpy says he’ll bill it to Mexico.
Trumpy says he can shoot people too
And anything else he wants to do.

Trumpy is counting on the Democrats
To stay home election day and sit on their pratts.
If the voters in this country don’t soon wise up.
There won’t be any peace until Niagara dries up.
Robin Carretti Jan 2019
Orangey so tangy loosely
her words flowery so
rustic fun  ******  
the panic straight
jacket going ginger
snaps her ticket
Pocketful of sunshine
in your pocket

****** the maestro
In the stars of the cosmos

On the edge but earthly
Let's go slow
Did we miss the
whole entire glow
"So Tickle me Pink"
The stardust funds
of the trust
Having a light fuse
The picturesque
Fields so mystique personality
Lights up unique

Your word against mine
In a matter of fact were in
It's your cue waves pull me in

If so the sky does it remain
always blue such a variety
Of cookies no outrageous
Time for Oreos
What's inside its outside
Cleopatra's eyes snap away
Like a masquerade
Don't rain on my parade
Love of Virginia innocently
Love is the drug
insanely

Scrapes on her knees
The western front
Ginger Snaps
Those bottle caps and buzzing
honey bees Tangerine trees
Galavant like General Lee
Ginger the gunslinger
She's the singer
eating Saralees

Whats to boot
But getting closer
To the naked eye
to the surface be wise
"Owl Hoot"
So lovely genuinely
He's husky and ruly
Apps Gingersnaps
Exchanging cat naps

Her lips in higher
states of trips

Trying to get there
Bohemian Rapsody
The Queen of the
economy
Photo editing Unicorn pony
Another brainless wedding
We are the champions
What a snitch like a witch
Bad luck switch the lion's den
Topiary timeless good luck Zen
Loud sirens
Drug trafficker morons
The plastic Surgeons
Backstabber persons

Blue jeans snap taking a
Sniff Shiba Uni howls
To be loved in beauty
My Mom Judy good
earth bounty

Tall and sleek every week
Smells of Ginger
no danger
The earth on her cheeks
Can love be any truer  
Into the Gala the apple
of her eye never goodbye
Sweet baked goods putting food the way love to the end of her fingertips should let go, Ginger, snaps
Loewen S Graves Mar 2013
To choose my own life
meant releasing myself
from his grip. The one
unholy touch I'd ever
known. If he had not
caught my scent, then
maybe his hand would
never have reached me.

To say ****** abuse
is to say I was not quite *****.
There is some dignity
I can still hold onto, a weight
I never felt threatening
to crush my body
into the dirt.

To say I am woman
is to say he is animal,
to deny him the right
of remaining ******
from the stink
of his mother's womb;

to insist on calling myself woman
is to forget the terror of knowing
I was child, I was bone
and I was sacrifice, the flame
on my tongue had scarcely
scorched his teeth before
they closed in on me
to drag me down.

To say I loved him
is to puncture holes
into my pelvis, let the marrow
drip until I was unrecognizable
as human, only a
thoughtless brainless creature
could love the knife
as it ripped them apart,
to save the hawk who grabbed you
from the river by feeding it one
of your young,

to say I was too young
is to say it gets better with age,
as if the signs become easier
to recognize once the baby fat
has shed its protective casing
from his skull.

To say depression
is to say I wasn't born
this way, there was a disease
inside his bloodstream
that erased me, it was
something from his veins
that made the doctors
hover over my wrists
like vultures waiting
to snap me up whole.

To say victim
is to say there was a perpetrator,
is to say our love was crime,
is to say there was nothing holy
until I learned to make it so myself.

To say ****** abuse
is to say *he has taken everything,
there is nothing left of my frame
for anyone else to hold.

— The End —