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Simon Nov 2019
A bullshitter to one’s own heart isn’t factual without statements gone astray. Its practical logic locking natures way of leading you astray, if you’re never opening one’s heart. That someone isn’t contrary to forbid their heart when even attempting to lock it up without *******! ******* is already contrary when it’s the very lock itself to someone’s own heart. Masking the potential when agreeing to focus on the (factual) leading astray away from the practical logic as the key to your own safe of *******! Bullshitting the safe confines logical dumbness. Trying an attempt at even wanting to touch that lock, will ZAP you into another bullshitter of someone else’s very own unique type. Spreading it like a virus. An outright PANDEMIC! Gesturing the practical logic to act as anti bodies when retracting away from the stench that is the opposite to what already makes sense beforehand. Then how did the bullshitter in someone’s own heart spread toward the next one appearing at the same conjunction in time? It’s never that easy to clear out the imperfections from actually ever dealing with the real self importance of it all. The locking bullshitter to someone’s own heart, is in the shape of a slithering snake. One appearing to you in the form that matches practical logic of what a surface area matches with one appearing to see what doesn’t hide itself. Compared to the counterpart diminishing all claims of what it counts as absurdity. The surface area in the form of a snake of practical logic. A snake whose logical way of doing something, is using it’s poisonous, corrupting fangs to influence another bullshitter who never counted on starting like that. ZAPPING them into a newly formed conjecture! Never truly knowing the actual repercussions to how one should act, once infected. Never knowing if there the same choice as the one choosing to obstruct in the form of blinded absurdities. That poison being the lock. While seeing the actual form of practical logic in the form of a key. Alright. Alright! So, by getting this straightened out. Revealing a potential, but an already obvious gap in the margin. The poisonous fangs are the virus. Making someone into a very unique bullshitter of there own design. Heart filling up without truly effecting it yourself. If any molecules are flooding the heart that much. Plugging the brim dry! Then if one doesn’t see the truly defined picture. Every molecule literally flips inside out to control what is never truly obvious to the infective. Dropping continues doubts about something truly being wrong with the bullshitter to someone’s own heart. The infective thinking this is the practical logic one should poke fun into everyone’s else’s business. Now switching over a one-sided debate to which one truly is making some sense as a mere starter kit. The snake itself being the vessel which holds the poison inside itself. Completely unaffected by there own virus. Fate unsealed, which is an illusion to how it controls it’s actions. Nature redefining all practical logic without trying to ask…WHY?! But (WHY) never being the first reaction to knowing (what it’s for)? Simply put it… It’s to hold the poison away from one’s own heart. The body is the key. While the fangs eject the poison as an example to retreating oneself in the process. Snakes free will being judged by a never-ending continues drawback of never being the one who is truly free. Being the one never truly free is always envious of ones being infected. So, it can purposely dive deeper into how one can change the sorting out with the good. While patronizing the evil into its own debated circle. Waiting a judgemental trial of getting out of the *******. Being a bullshitter to someone’s own heart isn’t cheap. Never the less… Neither is one fated to be cramped inside a prison as both lock and key. Supported by the corrupting poison being the snake’s heart itself. A slithering snake offering both nurture and hindrance. Hindrance being the processing ploy of absurdity taking flight under its own pressurising guilt. Slithering molecules to a poisonous heart are overflowing with a bullshitter to another’s very own unique type. Boiling STRONG! Getting ready to ZAP another unsuspecting copy of the original design.
A bullshitter is someone without redefining details in their own virtues plunging margins dry. Heart accepting whatever one deems worthy in the face of pure delusional absurdities.
Spenser Bennett Jun 2016
"I am what I believe"
Cried the crestfallen philosophy
"You are what we tell you to be"
Stated the looming bureaucracy
"But what of free speech, life, and liberty?"
Asked the outraged citizenry
"All fictitious. Now back to Benghazi."

And the world turned on
While our minds turned off
Victims to the Great Entertainment
That silences our voice of dissent

"What a marvelous movie"
"It could have been better"
"That Trump is a no-bullshitter"
"Yeah but he's  the same color as my melted smoothie"

Meanwhile the old wait to die
And prisoners don't have the hope to riot
And the T.V. tells us about Kim's new hair
I see these things and I despair

"Hey man, lemme get a eighth"
"Man, what the ******* gotta celebrate"
"I just got fired on Saturday, tryin' to forget this place"
"Man, you just gotta have a little faith"

But ain't no God in heaven and no savior in the saints
One prayer and all will be forgiven at least that's what they say
But my eyes don't divine a reason to believe 'em
My words are my crimes and I won't deceive 'em

Step back and give your heart your full attention
Listen to the voices of the ones I forgot to mention
Are we really so different
Are we slipping into indifference

If you believe in humanity
If you believe in nature
If you believe in morality
Maybe you'll become someone's savior
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2022
ve bu benim kanım, akşam yemeğim gelenlere ne mutlu.

i really tried my best in learning some Turkish
before our next meeting...
   and here is my blood,
                 happy are those who come to my supper...

well... i already wasted one bottle of wine on Jemminah:
i still have one left, probably the finest of the batch,
so i texted her at 3am in the morning:
i knew she would be up...
   the sun was teasing the sky by just about
raising a desert storm of colour below the ink blue
hue of night when she replied
to my text: are you available tomorrow?
i have a present for you, maybe you do, maybe you don't
but i'm bringing some of my homemade wine
over...

yep... she is... right... time to get ready...
i'm not leaving that brothel without having *******...

strange two days... for all the **** i've been
through since the age of 21 through to about 30...
life... oh it's come back: or rather... i've come back
to life...
    i'm already holding this ram by the horns
and wrestling with it...

    oh right... i came home at 2am... stayed up
until about 5am, woke up at around 11am...
where was i last night?

the times Wednesday June 1, 2022,
is this UK's final glimpse of Messi?
james gheerbrant -
in march 1960, evlis presley stopped over
at the US airbase in Prestwick and spent a
couple of hours mingling with the Ayrshire
locals, in what turned out to be the only
occasion he set foot on British soil.
when Lionel Messi captains Argentina
in the Finalissima against Italy at Wembley
tonight, it will be his 25th game in this
country, yet his appearances still have
the same sense of visiting royalty,
      a brush with something luminous,
a story for the grand-children, laced with
the possibility that this might be the last time...

oh right... that's where i was...
   **** me... by the end of it even through it
i started yawning...

not out of any disrespect for the genius that is Messi,
but... see... i've never seen Argentinian women
before... i probably have but you never truly know
unless they're wearing an Argentina football shirt...
and something hit me...
like it hit me when i was grooming my female
cat and she stuck her *** in my face from pleasure
and something grotesque was woken up
and had to be be immediately translated onto
a woman... or rather: hidden inside a woman...

took me about a whole night trying to find a new
brothel around London... i did... but the price
was too steep... and everything about Stratford
is shady... a whole night cycling towards central
London and back... in between shady places...
second night i was losing my libido
and went to the one i knew by heart near
Goodmayes train station...
     that's when i met Khedra... after a disappointing
hour spent with this timid little Romanian number...
who... no... she shouldn't be into prostitution...
for the love of god i tried to get a hard-on...
i blamed it on myself: maybe i drank too much?
but... i'm already on my second libido-booster:
the first i've already "ingested" - exercise...
cycling toward Upminster and back and around
Upminster towards Rainham...
exercise is an aphrodisiac... mix that with fresh
air... sunlight and nature...
boom... get the blood flowing...
                                the second aphrodisiac?
white wine... not rose, not red... white wine...

so i thought, maybe i drank too much?
   no... she was just a timid creature that...
    had zero skills... and she was "supposedly" a *******...
obviously younger than me...
so... i just lay there with her in my arms
and we exchanged words for body parts
in three languages...
   just leaving Khedra came in... boom!
thank god it's no longer something stupid as:
"love at first sight"... thank god it has become:
lust at thirst-sight
                       because: it's true... it's exactly that...
once you pass your 30s you get this
spectacular... hmm... "magic" of being able to
find compatibility in the right sort of place...
what better place than in a brothel?
    i mean... ha ha: are we there to talk about
Walter Sickert? are we here to talk about...
  geo-politics?! feminism?!
                we're at a butcher's shop and we're getting
some meat... and we're talking to the butcher...
ergo?

mind you: while cycling i really thought about it...
you can't really employ the ad hominem argument
against Marquis de Sade...
   i did read through his biography...
                   he really wasn't such bad of a man as
history lends itself for us to believe...
personally? i think he had some pretty ****** ideas...
but as a person, sure... his imagination was wicked...
but he was imprisoned for... what?
asking a ******* to use a crucifix as a *****?
and these days if you skim through some...
soft-core *******... you'll find what?
well... it's not exactly a crucifix... but Saint Sebastian of
Cucumberia is pretty popular with the nuns
of modern secularism...

     he was imprisoned more of the time than
he could have had the time to fulfill all those whims
of 120 days of *****...
among other works...
                        ****** is a different matter...
that's a stand-alone work that's his pinnacle...
it's a good thing i read him when
my own hormones were pulsating in my teens...
that kind of subdued matters, youthful frustrations...
if anything: his uncle was the real rascal!
because the argument that Slayer or any other
music for that matter incentives anger and
violence is BULL-*****...
                                it subdues it... if anything...
it reduces it to a fantasy land whim-whipped-day-dream

like marquis de sade and the idea of
regular ***...
    eh... turns out it's better to take decent breaks...
sort of live the life of a Konrad von Wallenrode...
after all... the Teutonic Knights
did have a brothel with the walls of their citadel
capital of Ordensburg Marienburg...
    so... let's not pretend what is... and what isn't
happening...
  
thank for that! for what? i just keep hearing these
nightmare stories on the internet...
Tinder this: swipe swipe left left left left...
Tinder that: swipe swipe right right right right...
once i met this guy who laughed about
people who joined Facebook... that got on me...
i was fooled! back in the day?
when Facebook was exclusively for university
students?! yeah... it made sense...
obvious blah blah some years later and it's
a boomer gimmick like e-harmony etc.,
                     but me?
   oh no... not another social media bullshitter
going to **** me in... my use of the internet?
i'm in... i'm out...
    i come here to gush out my thoughts slit the veins
of my imagination, drink... listen to music...
read someone else's suicide notes and *******
to bed...

i don't think i have ever commented on anything
that i otherwise must comment on to get a pass
for something... because...
yeah, right... you buy a book...
and you then what? scribble your opinion on the last
page of the inside of the cover and expect what?
a response?

and this whole, modern, fixation on dating apps?
hook-up apps? it was never my thing,
the whole dating "revolution" passed me by,
shoom! gone! bye bye...
            nothing is ever good when it's easy...
losing 20+kg was never going to be easy...
being falsely diagnosed as a schizophrenic was
never going to be easy...
but... i wriggled out of both of these "percularities"
(yes, i do you mingle the technique of
misnomerism with metaphors)
hence the air-quotes... ambiguity...
   everything for the imagination to unravel: revel in...

in alba vino volo (in white wine: desire)...

i even cut down on my smoking to get a better /
prolonged *******...
obviously i had to check...
   check over... jerking off to almost ****** and then...
o.k., everything's in working order...
now to write something, take a shower,
pamper myself and ******* with that bottle
of wine of mine to **** Khedra...

**** me... if i had to go through all the clumsy
dating advice, even clumsier dates...
eating food... ugh... who the hell wants to **** someone
on a full stomach?
mind you there also that: MAYBE...
because there's no guarantee...
**** first, talk later...

                            easy? easy? what's easy?
first you have to sit through the ante-chamber
interrogation room of about 12 prostitutes...
and they have eyes like the beak of the eagle
that's bound to eating Prometheus' liver, for ****'s sake!

sure... yesterday was fun... i had a chance
to perhaps see Lionel Messi for the last time in England...
but i also managed to see all those
Argentinian women... that was a breaking point
for me... south American women... mmm hmm...
yummy doesn't even cover it...

today? it had to be: i had to go all out...
i had to start the day off by eating two soft-boiled
eggs...
and then? ****** off to my Turkish barber to
get me beard trimmed...
i once remarked it (getting a beard trim)
was better than getting a blow-job...
i'd like to retract that statement:
a beard trim and a hair-cut done by the same barber
feels: just as good...
eh... a beard trim is a beard trim...
my mustache was overgrowing my lips:
drink and random food and snot was getting
stuck in it... how am i going to kiss her?

oh when Cedilla met Caron...
that's
                    when Çedilla
  (soft, although it ought to be hard)
                                 Čaron (there's no "soft" caron -
it's most certainly re-laid as
the Greek Xaron - Kharon - even though...
  chasing chiseled chalk and cheese)...

ah... the enthralling sensation of meeting someone
for some carnal debauchery...
one bottle of white done - check
visit to the barber shop - check
exercise prior - check
a decent amount of protein ingested - check
press-ups - check
pandering... ****... i need to trim my nails scrub
away all the dead skin off the soles of my feet,
wash myself thoroughly... use all the necessary
chemistry to give off whiffs of freshness...
   have i trimmed my "other" beard?
yes, yes i have...
    well then...

    eski kuzgunsaçlar (old raven-hair)...
   here i come!
C Nov 2010
the Exquisite Executioner.

What kind of organic golem
of engrammic man am I,
so cold as to make you quiver.

You ask what hides under
my thin veneer of vernacular?
A bullshitter.

Caressing a mind swollen with Superego
I'd rather be traveling Home if only
I could just let

Me
                    go.

For
I am the ****, leftover from
your irate iron decisions.

I am the sepulcher, wreathed by
your iconoclastic tongue.

I am the maw
trite in humanity
partite in hunger.
erin walts Sep 2016
And the way to get through life
Is to tell them all what they want to hear*

The sweet **** spews out
With rotting apple cores and snow pink freezerburned meats

Starving pigs eat it just the same

Like robots and drones they are drowning themselves

In ****

Mouthful after mouthful they swallow

And after their fat bellys over fill until they explode from gluttony

I will be rich
Harry J Baxter Jan 2014
there is a valley between us
the distance between my was
and you are
my want
versus your need
it's all the same
it's all just one more drink
one more moment spent
between the breaths of our cigarette
shared beneath a waning half moon
at night the monsters pour out of the closets of boys across the land
and maybe they look like you
maybe it doesn't matter
girls are shaving their vaginas in the bathroom mirror
as the tv chuckles wildly
as I meander from dark empty to room
to dark empty room
hossanah on high judging the judges of yahew
as they drive tent stakes into the sternum of evil
I write to write to write to **** to **** to ******* to **** to manipulate this conversation
into a direction which ends with you stroking my pulsing ego
you aren't a muse
you aren't some special being
you are just mine
floating around in a head full
of my selfish thoughts about my selfless need to make you
my selfless thought
I'm a bullshitter
and you are a **** eater
Chloe Chapman Jan 2017
abyss tried left pulling untitled beauty scales heavy chase lies shoulders flew starvation body rough broke veins water crawling beat angel sun slow fly looked morning hear walls wake live touch need blame wasn't looking gave stand whirled planet want way know pair inside hold thousands going gravity friends different universe sparks end help trance million lungs pumped oh hand struggle spine mirror bleeding surely crave suddenly draw rasp clouds face smile rushes pooling feet calls shatter glance circuited risk catch danced seeing eye pieces jumps irresistible false barefoot blow stretching helium hair-trigger deserve near wall trail wish told tip razor requiring staining pure holding un-calculated precarious short health think scare drowned tight light proportioning maybe arm filled hair fight spins centre loose vulnerable lightest balanced noticed step rope stains rot wanting deserved realized bitter connection set instead selfish cast shame blamed aside shut overwhelmed factories ***** stretch roads lattice toxic nations sores polluting cities smog mechanical landscape great guilt affection mistakes forgive ate actions intimacy tsunami given fine tired self-pity free decay came lied signs smiling doubt small fault passion words fell admit default finally true matter wounded cope pride strength burning submit okay best paint hate reading realize listening music eating lonely walking child dreamt heat bystanders wound deaf glassy sunken opened sat hidden knew sneers smoke reflection arched web lovers mother drinking beasts ***** lines rivers blameless spewing sectioning leaving asphalt blistered whilst scattered plagued villages birds peace tea countryside scars machines torn 'civilization' tarmac land etched earth towns war sprawling rip snowed forced symmetry choose changed big flakes flurrie touched shall soul follow hunt new yesterday lasted brothers seconds adapt fluid hard wet state whirling fluffy liquid ground jewles crown adorn suffocating stones ran cloying caught burst silent beneath crept shredding numbness crawled got moss moon wear does soars wingless anguish dark course retreated rushed covered festered decaying princesses lie faeries dance hide mountains 1157 feelings sameness year change forward quite happy roar everyone's lives tall wide river dreams swim cries spirits phoenixes dragons soar conversations minuets savor overwhelming single remember unable devastating mermaids beings humans weak force unmeasurable bold consume makes afar repeating shining existence space comprehend the entities human humanity vivid insignificance infinitesimal embodied edges pressure grow thought jealous inner size weight felt voice downfall thing vast seduced strong galaxy whispered plot artistry belong struggled visible prison make systematic shrunk suns carry captivity constellations lazy rigorous impulsive tons understanding term wants loner unrealistic introverted perpetual personal care-free contradiction long extrovert unhealthy rational bullshitter therapist competitive energetic detached planner burn honest optimist mediator fit hot grating mold grime weighing fingers humid disintegrated rushing faltered sockets scramble chest frantically impenetrable reason disease silence sound gasped closed fled drowning nose faded choked insects stench rationality peals drown couldn't wondrous inspired unsaid settled smaller held expanse hostage began bars lucid sleep open mess sea rest consumes not to afloat darkness little elusive try movements attracted like mind heart stars life eyes world broken just feel time blood screamed pain bring throat nature wrong breath images thoughts apart wanted glass filling anymore hope humanity skin ripping look mouth head fantasy panic hands away human brain ears air saw balance kept pass cold white fall delicate structure
words of significance used in my poetry. Can you see a theme?
Don't pretend to be knowledgeable
about that which you do not understand.

It's really annoying
and it's akin to misinformation.

Plus, anyone who knows a **** thing can see through your *******-
and you can't ******* a bullshitter.
Sit back as I free base the mic
Keep ya *** tight
Like constipation facin’ the nation
One man crew represent
Houston smell my lbs of mints
I get intense leave brain cells pinched
Rhymes lynched clear the bench
When I make a walk around talk around
I get around **** more than bobby brown
Make emcees jump around I get down
Like James Brown
the Black Ceasar
Take over the crowds leave *******
Leaning like the tower of Pisa
I even got Mona Lisa
To Crack a smile biggie with my flow
As well as what sits below
The heavy set hitter no bullshitter
Think twice I’m spittin’ naughty nothing
So come.with it
But I know you ****** bluffin’
Actin’ toughin’
til they see me
They Common Man as David Ruffin
Now the guns got they spirits floatin’
Throw ya ashes in the ocean
**** a notion
I’m shady take notes from.the lyrical.
Oracle now say it im…


Hit up the scene
With pounds of green
& 50 gran sittin’ in between
My Benz six hundred the best class
Showin’ raw ***
Check the state it reads Texas plates
How can I relate ?
To the loot im accumulatin’
Aint no debatin’
jealous critics be hatin’
Im.creatin’
An epitome so forceful the feds can’t get to me
Gettin’ more *** then pimps get
forget
What they sayin’
pay attention to my pipe layin’
******’ beats with no need for sheets
Sneak peak dirtier than a Iraq Sheik
Smooth as an undercover like women of cocoa butter
Skin since the world is sin
I take a shot of gin for the djinn
To settle in
Take control then i menace the mic
Like Mike got the game on lock
6 undefeated makin’ miracles
Not satirical got critics sayin’ he’s Unbelievable! !!
Z Dec 2012
"If you live to be one hundred,
you'll still be a beauty."

"Yeah, and you'll still be a
bullshitter."

Some things never
*change.
biche Aug 2016
No matter how you consider it (who hasn't) -
It's a contract.

Not the same thing as contact
Although one might wish it were so, since
That word gives such hopeful prospects, promising (among other things) -
"An occurrence in which people communicate with each other."

Once you add the "r" the terrain becomes treacherous.  
Agreement is the foundation, but legality is required
And worse, a specific form involves
Cold-blooded ******

How ridiculous that seems in light of the simple fact of our connection.
It does that all on its own.

Contact is so deceptively simple -
So brutally honest in it's being there, or not
As for communication, you fuckwitted glamour queen -
I throw up my hands at you.

Contract is the most intimate of all.
Promising to share *** and death and possibly even birth.
But intimate can be vague and crazy.
A party animal bullshitter who leaves a lot unsaid.

It's not necessary to understand how it works when it works.
In the case of marriage, it might even be fatal.
Love is a given when it's true.
I learned that from you.
*Merriam-Webster Dictionary
Autumn Shayse Dec 2016
whoever said that love is the greatest muse,
was a total bullshitter,
for i have never been happier
in that aspect of my life

and as a result,

the ink has dried in my mind,

i am a writer no more,
just a girl in love with a boy;
how incredibly dull.
i wish i could write things still
Ken Pepiton Apr 2022
Upright, bipedal, con-fi, see, come saw
I saw thee under the mulberry tree,
when the wind stirred
the upper branchings
one who strives with truth in life's wild way,
rests - while watching, waiting for next
if I may, the past-tenseness of guiled, is guilt.
Hold no shame, having to do, and suffering so
painless, once used, patience always workd.
No guile, we waited for the point to go. Dotdotdot
-speak of that daemon and who should appear,
the daysman on duty, Mercutio's nearkin,
- was he one told to come and see?
a stranger in whom is no trick,
a confident man, selling his wares, for worth
to the buyer made ware by chance, lost in thought.

Something seems off when a person
knows with whom he agrees,
but I do not, ah, poorer in knowledge accrual, am I

So I, learn if I am as well agreeable,
does this trek into familiar detail seem allusive,
or useful, universal,
state of un-been-guiled, once too many times.
Bogus Science, and Ponzi Economics,
we climbed the dung hill, and found it comfy, warm.
- some sense from bovine ilk, Rumi-nated
- clover over rye, a pre-ference, cud-wise.
- The after taste, time to think,
- why do we use so many nursing cattle?
- What have we become, now that we can
- drink dead milk.
-back to the quest for a we for today-

Frankfurt determines that ******* is speech intended to persuade without regard for truth. The liar cares about the truth and attempts to hide it; the bullshitter doesn't care if what they say is true or false, but cares only whether the listener is persuaded.[1]

From <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/On_Bullshit>

Where I was reared, nobody tells you
of a tattoo
on their back,
beneath covering clothes.
- but now, the layer of cool, coming on
- after all psy-sci-psi sense converged
Some folks do, for some unspoken reason,
- see, I wish you could see raw me, the art.
- forcing me to keep this skin.
- Possesion first, first right to claim, I know.
- BTDT- an imp experiencing samsara for me.
now, where were we, like like likest…
A person is presenting purpose,
proposing we have lost our links
to recovered tattoos - meaning hidden
not on your face, intending to make you see
Salience, a leaping roe, perhaps, saying see me,
perhaps saying I can leap the hedge row,
or it seems
so so salient, as if coming to attention,
tuned to the whole, boom
- lackachuma-fuma
salience the word is said again, by the fellow
with the deeply meaningful ta-toos
- a silly syllable enabling- bling
to which my attention attracts, salience
catches my at- tension, hooks me,
pulls me in, gnosis whispers know me,
deceive your grip,
accept my hand co-mand-astory manual labor,
I snap my fingers, we
receive my salient happenstance

fool me once, sell me an invisible tattoo,

a tool used to mean something,
meaning- full fashion affectations,
- as when a law is fulfilled -
put it there, where ladies show their spots.

Imagine we know it means something
distracting to the winds in- twisting my senses
sh, shush
shushing soothing, as might a 4-H kid,
nurse a stolen calf, and learn the price of knowing.
Live and learn, grands in a country school.
I am most assuredly an ex- chicken farmer , musician , 'poetician' and renowned front porch bullshitter* ..
Copyright January 22 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Eric the Red Feb 2018
If you can maybe for a moment
Maybe this morning
Think of
The Lonely Soul

Getting up for work
Fighting the Tired
Caring for the Ungrateful
Putting up with the Bullshitter
Loving the Abuser

The Lonely Soul

The Barely Enough Time for Myselfers
The Secrets Piling Uppers
The Fake Accounters of Attention

The Lonely Soul

The Long Way Home Drivers to Hear One More Song
The Terrible Hole of a Relationshippers
The Insecure Hollowed Out
The ‘Im Oks’

The Lonely Soul

Those drinking from the emptiness of wine bottles
Those who can’t write out their thoughts and cares through poetry
Those who know they’re being cheated on
Those with the fake smiles fake lives fake problems fake drama

The Lonely Soul

Maybe we can get a moment of peace today
nivek Aug 2017
its ok to be a joker
a bullshitter

but when you have access to and permission to dial in the codes

your joking is kind of sick
and your ******* outright lies.
Mark Wanless Sep 2017
"Don't Pollute"

Don't pollute the mind stream
       flowing we are what we think
       ****** ecology helps prevent
       communicable diseases through contact
       through what there is no
       scientific name for        yet
Can't you hear me halfway
       round the world?
Brain ***** of perception touching
       and touched fathomed levels down
       needs no i at all the universe exists
       with or without personality traits
       arisen surface foam dross cream
Your hunger pains my stomach
       no lie about it
       can't ******* a bullshitter    me
       who sees the you
       that's spread on my bones naturally
       as multidimensional space
read toreador scream
My best beloved,
I don't know how
to comfort you.
The words
"I love you"
aren't enough
to heal you,
no matter how
deeply they are felt
no matter how often
they are spoken.

I assure you
in this quantum reality
that what you focus on,
what you feed,
what you nurture
will grow, increase
and flourish.
What you starve
will weaken,
shrivel, and die.

What do you really want to experience?
You don't have to be a prisoner
of the idea that you
have been irrevocably damaged
by events in your childhood.
You can, if you choose,
resolve and commit
to choose gratitude
for the goodness
in your life.

Happiness is not pretending
that you don't have
reason for sorrow.
It's choosing to feed your
heart and mind
on that which gives you joy.
We each can dwell on the good until
it becomes us.

There is no reward for
dwelling on the past.
Remember Ovid's words
from your fb page?
"Persist and be resolute.
Someday this sorrow
will serve you"

I got the image of a swimmer
making a turn at the end
of the pool and pushing off
with a strong kick.
Thus you can kick depression hard
and use it to help you
be even clearer about propelling
yourself forward,
creating the life you want,
the inner landscape that delights you.

What if
EVERYthing that has happened to you
has been for your good?
Making you stronger, deeper, wiser,
more compassionate,
empathetic, and kinder?

Maybe you and I
and everyone here
are still in our
spiritual infancy.
We can barely grasp
the concept that
we create our own
reality, filtering
the overwhelming
input of data through
our learned preconceptions,
completely blocking out everything
that "does not compute."

Yogananda, who was no bullshitter, said,
"Circumstances are always neutral.
It is the happy or sad attitude
of the mind that makes them seem
either good or bad."

Perfer et obdura.
Copyright 2020. All rights reserved.
Dawn Jun 2023
crimson black roses
and the kiss of death
been avoiding you for most of my life
how did we get here
I see a blank canvas
But no paints to color with
the void has widen
and black nothingness consumes me
the truth
the lies
all the same to me
you wanted me to get here
I am convinced
to feel the nothingness
and the crimson kiss of death
so now I lie
floating in the abyss
no longer able to lie to myself
you can't fool or convince a bullshitter
all the lies and truths combine
there is no right
no wrong
to exist
is to be
and to be is to know
there is nothing left
the end is death.
And, I'll forever question whyyyy?
You needed me to feel this

— The End —