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Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
.reiteration... em.. you're not internet providers... are you?! the best you'll ever be, is, software *******... you're about as invested in hardware, as the mafia is invigorated by mainstream politics...******* wankers... you what?! huh?! censorship?! who's supplying you with the copper wires?! you?! ha ha ha ha! how about getting leg ***** by a mongrel tongue... and considering your type of companies, as, serious, "mediators"... no hardware... just a software monopoly... ******* **** wasps! you almost want to cannibalize their presence! like... ever taste bone marrow? these "companies"... are teasing a taste of bone marrow! i want to eat something... these, companies, forgot, that, they're, not, service, providers! d'uh! and they're making the dicta?! inch copper **** making all the rules... what rules?! they don't make the rules... they're not hardware enforcers! they block my presence, i subsequently return to over-exemplifying using the scissors, counter the computer! yeah?!

em...
but you're not BT...
British Telecommunications?
the hell is up with these
software nuggets?!
how can google,
facebook,
youtube, ban, someone...
when they pay...
for their hardware provider?
did, said companies,
pay, for the copper wires?!
i'm pretty sure the answer is
no...
    unless you've not been banned
by authentic internet providers,
but, rather,
banned by content creation
mediums?!
       **** 'em!
           **** 'em silly!
         they do not actually
own access to internet
provision, i.e. ACCESS...
they do not own
the armory
of copper wiring....
that connects the dots...
*******!
BT or SKY or ******
pulls the plug,
you're all out!
             you get the
differential "bias" against
the format of software
contra hardware?
no?
            there are,
internet, providers...
there is the hardware of
occupational hardware user basis...
these companies...
censoring...
have a software stature,
without a hardware status...
   want to rephrase the thesaurus
to concern yourself
with legislative phraseology?
      really?
     me? can't be bothered...
do it yourself,
VEGAN dietary requirements
and... whatever.
but you can't deny someone
content provision...
when they're paying for
an internet access...
these software companies
do not have to answer
to governments...
they have to answer
to hardware providers...
   internet access deposits /
access points...
            not governments...
hardware instigators...
    oh, really?
    software censorship?
   if there's no one using
the hardware?!
              good luck...
and a goof ball speeding!

these companies, who are exercising
"depth",
of the parameters of conscription
of legit consent?
   they have this amnesia...
this amnesia...
of...
   not being hardware utilities...
i.e.?
   a comic book...
without the printing press...
   savvy?
             now i'm mowing down
eyed
    claustrophobic eyed -
   horses running,
with shutters on their eyes
for the added advantage
of tunnel vision...
   that Bane scene equivalent...
    with the quote -
  crashing this plane...

"who" are these companies
to dictate,
"correct" internet usage?
they're not internet providers...
to begin with...
   if... a company like SKY...
or BT... or ******...
obstructed internet access
of a person?
  i'd be nodding...
    in a coherent access of
agreement...
    but...
      these websites are not
hardware, they're software...
see the difference?
they're not internet providers...
they're pixel blank bulk anticipating
canvases...

unless there's something
wrong with the original idea,
of an un- investigated
genesis of a pixel blank?!
     can i make this an issue
with your, internet provider?
i don't like you excluding
the content of the content
that is a blank pixel anticipatory
excavation wait...
   sorry...
  
   i don't like you miscarrying my
payment of internet access...
having censored interactive outlet
canvases...
   i pay for one... i pay for all...
   can you please pay
the proper amount of
compensation to the hardware
companies that provide
universal internet access to
the full spectrum of internet users?!

namely?
BT... SKY... ******?
yes?!
robin Mar 2013
her mouth was sandpaper.

her mouth was sandpaper
and she spoke like
a smooth surface,
words scraped into fluidity
like a wooden sphere,
turned over behind teeth ‘til all friction
is lost.
she spoke like the walls of a birdhouse
in the room of a dead carpenter:
pretty unassembled things.

her mouth was sandpaper
and every kiss chafed,
rubbing raw my lips
and tongue
crafting with each touch
drawing blood like
juice from an apple,
like sap
from wood already cut from the tree.

her mouth was sandpaper
and she told me
i bite my lips,
rip at
the inside of my mouth,
cannibalize myself cell
by cell.

bone saws in her mouth.
the only difference between teeth of jaws
and saws
is mercy
(and she swallowed her mercy long ago).

her mouth was sandpaper
and she spoke like a carpenter’s hands:
rough palms,
tough pads,
a utilitarian artist
a crafter of dead flesh.
a mortician for dryads
and kodama.
the art and the artist
in lips
tongue
and teeth.

her mouth was sandpaper
and i brought mine to hers
again and again,
her bitten-rough lips
opening like doors to
purgatory.
less entrapment than addiction -
returning once more to nails and hammers,
hell’s blacksmiths below
heaven’s painters above.
coming back home
to the space between,
to bone saws
and a carpenter’s hands.

her mouth was sandpaper
and her voice was carpentry,
her teeth bone saws
her words
birdhouse walls.
her mouth was purgatory
but her hands
were hands.

her mouth was sandpaper.
i held her hand
and chafed my lips raw.
Derek Yohn Sep 2013
i detoxed myself under this pale sun
     (you stood by and watched the
      unfolding saga all the while
      questioning the meaning of zen)

the original concept was lost
somewhere along the way
when i dropped the ball
on the forty yard line
     (can you recover your own fumbles?)

every time i stand by,
the waiting is eternal
and i become engrossed
in the uselessness of my position,
pondering
     (my love for this is a game of solitaire)

i am the ultimate in
irrational action,
a demagogue of dark
pathways and religious
zealotry, trapped beneath
glass floors watching,
trying desperately to
cannibalize my fingers.

i have smoked your toenails
and wandered away listless
at comments unbecoming
and salivated on the fires
set to displace my vessels
     (i have seen you ignoring me)

in the coming months i will
rend my eyes and pierce
my skull artificially
so you will be able
to see into my soul and
destroy me more efficiently
     (you will know me by the number of the dead)

i will search deep and
long inside this shadow's
shell, extracting this cancer
so i can cook up my
shortcomings and inject
them into a Ken doll
because then at least
i will be pretty.

i will feed my
chilled oatmeal to a
Cantonese family
that will honor me
as the ***** poo-flinger
i am for you.

i will cease to exist
on a plane with your
type, sinking lower
on scale like a rock in
the Mississippi River.

Mom, when i stop
growing up, i will
be the ****** loser
everyone always
thought i would
     (aren't you proud?)
     (isn't he cute?)

i cannot imagine
surviving your intern camp
after the tattooing of arms,
we will eat the testicles of the
fallen gods and dispense
great suffering on the weak
because of our enlightened
prospects and redemptions
     (what do you know about pain?)

i will place my severed head
in a place of prominence, likely
in your bed, right before
i cease to breathe

my eyelids weaken....
flicker, flutter....

i grow tired with the
advent of your indecision,
the totality of abandonment
the lenses fog, fade...
flicker, flutter...

i have run out of things to sacrifice
this is an amalgamation of three individual, and originally unrelated, poems
I dispelled arduous watches tick on laborious appareled macrocosms scatter spitting patter, teeming paved labyrinths searching for something to own orbiting the bench I sit on, envisaging celestial bodies slinging transonic ripples. Ether colliding into clouds masking infinite galaxies from a suffering and crawling universe destined for a hole in the wall, where the rats live; nibble, scratch, deconstruct, and reconstruct, cannibalize, ****, and die.
         Does silence exist amongst the deucedly hot and dense state that incrementally dilutes vociferous dissonance illuming dynamic hurricanes, merciful gases, and asteroidal moats guarding engraved anthropomorphic landscapes?
Probably not; fauna whisper, tear down, and settle, birth exigent infants and zealous appraisals, ***** towers and castles; consciousness capitulates, inundates prisons, cemeteries, and landfills. Silence, in precipitous day dreaming, auspiciously reverberating webs espying arpeggios tomb the suburbs as one navigates in and out of trepidation to avoid being caught like a gnat, a quiet ******* bug with no cigarettes to burn.
The impact flung me from the bench in the commons toward dusk disguising 16 acres with streetlights and homeless asking for squares on the roads to spurs and oaks, scattered acorns crepitating under my soles. Each  compressing sound pulling like gravity, transporting down roads with bouncing winds, subtle aglow, guides from defiant contours of Gods in the clouds, dandelions erupting side walks like tectonic plates seismically tear apart earth, the fog’s mist like ships floating into suns swimming like tadpoles; air undulates as I wave my hands against the wind, molding the space as clay.
This city is mine, I tumultuously grow with it, and I mercurially oscillate with it as a memory inevitably plays. The past as a dream, is mine. The abstract present is mine, and the infinite future is not, yet they are given away for possession.
Inept graffiti cartographically stain bricks providing a simpler search for portals made perfect for laying like a crescent moon near their opening edge, watching dawn lift dust and my eyelids, glaring off windows building and kissing the satellite towers on roofs, waking the mountains in the horizon, painting the sky, one could give a **** about the past, present, and future, the beginning is just as imminent as venturing any further.
Embryonic sun rays mixing fluids and this coffee I nabbed to wake the day, having it enlighten the conversations one has with oneself; consisting of bellicose thoughts filtered, taboos accompanying bleating people, ubiquitous t-shirts, satirical newspapers, and indecorous magazines perpetually feeding me preliminarily eldritch reconnaissance as they dress into strangers.
It could be time for another cup of coffee and cigarette? Or am I just floating off into enigma over the road becoming a sea?
Gypsies contort into seagulls, shingles moving like tsunamis smashing down on metropolitan brick cities, Atlantis generation XYZ resting in an underwater valley, mountains sew gardens on the ocean’s bottom, signs buried, and I’m simply lifting back off into space.
Complaints will suffocate; I’ll be out of town, however, I will miss those whom drowned.
Good riddance.
“Hello,” a soft resonation shaking the atmosphere.
Resuscitation; back to reality…
“Hello”, the voice repeated, “Are you going to be alright?”
“Pardon, what happened?” I slurred.
“You just fell several stories and your head is missing. This is astonishing how you can hear me, how I can hear you, are you in any pain?”
“Um, I apologize, but I’m not really certain of what you are saying. My head is missing?”
“Yup, it detached from your atlas, when you hit the asphalt, what is the last thing you remember?”
“Having my head…well sort of, I remember staring at people on a bench in the commons it was kind of turning my stomach, making my head feel heavy, so I got up and walked. Explains the headaches and visuals, Where am I?”
“You’re in my basement. I could hear your voice when I found you, even with your head, well, skull missing.”
“Why didn’t you call an ambulance?”
“I would have called an ambulance, but you told me not too, you wanted me to hear you, you kept insisting I hear your stories, so, I listened to your stories as I basically dragged you here. You would go in and out, talking then silent the next, and now you seem like you’re in at this moment; without a skull, your heads there.”
“Well…I can’t see you… or the basement… and I am not in any pain… How long has this been going on, why did you listen to my stories, and what did I say?”
“You know what you said.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m the only one who listened.”
In this world,
there are numerous denominations,
split by human hand,
divided by persecution,
as blood spills to the sand.

Genocide,
no,
xenocide,
and by these actions everyday,
we commit patricide.
We feud for who knows what,
killing in the name of our God,
be it Elohim,
Allah,
or the dollar.
Civilization?
Progress?
Humans are far worse than animals,
people are cruel,
we **** with hidden agenda,
we cannibalize our beliefs,
there is no such thing as civility.
I have a dream?
What did that man see,
but the barrel of a gun?

Humans are created equal,
this is espoused by many,
and practiced by none,
even I allow the stitches of the American fabric to show.

I am no poet,
I am the greatest of hypocrites,
and in my futility,
I scream.
A.P. Beckstead (2013)
Dan Feb 2019
I saw the best minds of my generation
Brutally isolated from those around them
Surrounded by series of boxes
Some meant to relay
Some meant to contain
All passively made to control

And past all of these boxes we can see
The place where the grass is greener
Where the trees are taller and stronger
Where the animals live
We call that place wilderness
Some say we used to call it home
Some others say that when we did
Life was nasty
Brutish
Short
Well
Many of these days I would prefer that to
Long
Meaningless
Alienated
But it really depends on ones perspective

See the problem with Civilization is that somewhere down the line someone has to take the full force of the trauma
Whether that’s indigenous people
Robbed of their land
Forced to work in Rare Earth Mineral mines
Or sweatshop factories in foreign countries
Or Facebook content moderators in Arizona
Forced to be subjected to violent murders and graphic *******
Their bathroom breaks are monitored
They are ordered to stop praying if it takes too long
All so your racist uncle can share news articles from PatriotPress.com
And people who haven’t interacted with you in years can wish you a happy birthday
This is the price we pay for our convenience
This is the passive acceptance that our comfort is more valuable than their lives
I heard that the first megamachine was made with human parts
Now we witness that machine cannibalize itself

What is the alternative to this concrete techno-Hell?
I hope that one day we cast off this Leviathan whose tentacles wrap around our necks
To live a life of lower standards but higher meanings and ambitions
To live simply
With nature and not at its expense
It’s not a past to return to
But a future we fight for
Where the grass will be greener
But only because
We let it grow
Siiren Mar 2013
I can turn invisible.
I do it all the time.
You may not even notice that I’ve changed- just that one minute I'm here and then suddenly I'm gone.

It has a price.

I can turn invisible and the world gets vastly larger.
I shrink inside myself until all that’s left are atoms smaller than you can see.
Impalpable.
Insensible.
Compacted super-dense matter.
Dark and malnourished, I cannibalize .
I eat the pieces of me that are brightest and leaden with memory each time becoming smaller but denser;
heavier with the weight of myself but faded.
Stunted.
Fragile.
Small.

I can turn invisible and you wouldn't even notice
because I've been here all this time just lingering and shrinking.

The world keeps getting larger and I keep getting smaller.

It’s a feeling like butterflies.
It’s a feeling like mourning.
It’s a feeling like no other I can describe to you coming from one such as I.
Invisible.

The world gets larger.
I still get smaller.

My tears are hot and tiny. Puny things full of anger and loathing and loneliness.
I consume them.
They make me smaller.
Super-dense matter burning within these half digested bits. It's a feeling like no other.
I've reached the apex.
I've reached the abyss.

I can turn invisible.
I've been doing it all this time
and the world has gotten too big for me and I am too heavy with the world for it.
Compacted.
Super-dense.
It feels like butterflies and mourning and the pieces of me that burn.
It's hot inside my shrunken belly,
too small for you to see,
all the while I grow too fat on my tears and too full on this emptiness.

I may explode with this smallness;
this denseness;
and all that you couldn’t see will come spewing from me and the world will stop getting bigger
and I will birth a new me.

I'm a Super Nova.
I was invisible
but the weight was too great.
Compacted super-dense matter.

You couldn’t even see me.

But now you can.
©2013 Siiren
jeffrey robin Apr 2011
hyperventilating glen beck
and thusly
criminally
insane

the PEEP-HOLE people
roust about

dreaming heroic dreams
of ******* amid the dead
creations
of the unknown god

--------

dead slime patriots
of a non existent feeble world

they cannibalize all decency
and pray for the wealth
that grants them the wished for
power
of total irresponsibility

----------

who will live of die here?
(we know the amounts)

the billions slaughtered
or starved into slavery

for the fun and games
of it all

-----------

nothing can be done

the LINE has been crossed

facing each other with courage

yes!

that

(and only that)

is left to us
now
jeffrey robin Apr 2011
hyperventilating glen beck
and thusly
criminally
insane

the PEEP-HOLE people
roust about

dreaming heroic dreams
of ******* amid the dead
creations
of the unknown god

--------

dead slime patriots
of a non existent feeble world

they cannibalize all decency
and pray for the wealth
that grants them the wished for
power
of total irresponsibility

----------

who will live of die here?
(we know the amounts)

the billions slaughtered
or starved into slavery

for the fun and games
of it all

-----------

nothing can be done

the LINE has been crossed

facing each other with courage

yes!

that

(and only that)

is left to us
now
Nathan MacKrith Sep 2019
God gave us the stars to shoot for
so we would have ***** other
than our sister or brother
eager to reach the shooting range we slammed the shuttle door
on our captain’s silver crown
in a sea spilling from His ichor
sack punctured by our hubris we drown-
memes and cat videos worth dying for

We set fire to the shuttle
gasp as our air begins to leave
Amazon(s) choose to scuttle
trees land and humans need to breathe
a musk most putrid rises as we cannibalize our space ex
who’s so far gone as to not come back
her zombie bridezilla tirade wrecks  
our plan it removes futures from the trajectory track

God gave us the stars to shoot for
so we reduced our target to soot
we revelled in our high score
not feeling the pain in our shot foot
and the cats still in secret revery dance their funny jig
sardonic wit stuffed still in every blank screen -small or large-
on the skeleton of our ghastly ghost space rig
reduced to rubble by a friendly depth charge.

God gave us the stars to shoot for
it was we who chose to use a gun
we chose to ram through the door
not checking if it was open
God gave us the stars to shoot for
leaving the details for us to decide
rockets to be built to make war or explore
as shuttlecraft for a human slingshot ride
an arching advance into the beauties of
our Creator made for us to enjoy in love
~
NM
08/25/19
Danielle Oct 2018
I’m a cannibal.
We’ll let that sink in.
It takes moment to digest that thought.
Sorry I have terrible humor, I know.
Why and who?
Mostly myself, I cannibalize me,
To rearrange my understanding of self.
It doesn’t survive upon contact you see.  
So I slice and dice, chop and whip.
Until nothing irritates and the rot sets in.
Then I have to cut out the bad parts
And try to put myself back together again.
So you see it’s really not easy,
Being a cannibal.
But **** I bet the final product will be delicious.
I hate it when I catch myself doing this, trying to put others so far ahead of myself that I just end up hurting myself. I'll learn how to avoid it eventually. Hopefully.
james nordlund Jun 2018
Still, the Roman Catholic Imperial Church hasn't done all it can to atone for
persecuting humanity with their last inquisition, the global mass-**** of mostly
boys, that while more and more supposed christian al-queda do terrorist acts,
still, serial murderers masquerading as cops genocide mostly men of color,
still, newborns are ****** to death in the crib by the remocrat conspiracy's
psychic terrorism, 'the ****', and are also neutered by them, who have said
"they'll turn out to be dems or non-rems", still infancy, toddlerhood, childhood,
teenage and young adulthood years are filled with mass serial: rapings, ******
assaults, anatomical destructions, assaults, attempted maimings, muggings, beatings,
persecution, discrimination, institutional abuses, etc..  Still, 9 months after
hurricane maria tore through Puerto Rico, etc., they don't have restored electric,
adequate food and water distribution, their death toll, according to a Harvard
study, is over 4600, almost 3 times that of Katrina, and the next hurricane
season's upon us.  Still, women's reproductive rights are under constant attack,
assaults on women's health centers have escalated, as has religiously biggoted
attacks on Muslims, etc., while funding for the people's gov't'l safety net has
been drastically cut across the board, still these draconian legislations, outright
eugenics programs, aren't prosecuted by the U.N. as State Agression against people,
as indicated by the Nuremburg Accords, necessitated by ****** having done the same.  
Still, the intelligence, military, police, prison industrial complexes haven't dealt
with mass-****, inequity in prison sentencing, urgently needed prison reform, severe
lack of education of, and availability of lawyers, funds for prisoner's defenses,
the necessary prosecution of the going on two trillion dollar per year intelligence
community for purposefully not preventing the hacking of the elections of 2016, and
thereby being a part of the invisible coup that installed Trumpler, with dinos,
sinos, ginos, ainos, linos, Bernie or bust bots, Assange, wikileaks, global hackers,
Putin's puppets all.  Still Trumpler regularly attacks, denigrates American people,
institutions, the world, continually tears kids from their parents as a supposed
"disincentive", while that's human atrocity, as he continues to mock, be unfettered
by the continuing revelations, indictments, investigations of him, his campaign and
the executive branch he has installed, E.P.A.'s Pruitt, while he illegally weeds out
dempublicans, all who aren't criminal, even firing remocrats who aren't SS enough.  
His latest, his 'fixer' Cohen, getting over a million from navaritus pharma (of
course Trumpler got his cut), because The Facilitator-In-Chief is following pages
from king george (bush **** heavily invested in pharma) and his ****, cheney's
aborted by the people plan's playbook to diagnose, prescribe to most, especially
those mentally less advantaged teens who've been chosen, trained, triggered by the
remocrat conspiracy's psychic terrorism (with a disparaging wink, nod from dinos,
dempublicans), 'the ****', to do terrorist acts in schools, being on the hot seat
instead of Trumpler, and another example of State extreme hypocrisy as well as the
imploding domestic war against everything, especially nature, next generations
(the corp. structure's convoluion's devoluionarey direction vs. the evolution),
as they, merx for more through to mercs for unending unnecessary worldwide war,
cannibalize the future to replicate their past supposed profits, evermore and in
ever more cyclical, centralizing patterns. Is this also how they're assassinating
the future non-rem leaders before they even become adults?  "...We(e),..." need
everyone to speak out, stand, everyday, if not now, then when, if not here, where?
The first two in the thus far trilogy of twigs of poetree   :)   'Unreal Times Too', and 'Unreal Times'.   reality
B Wasserman Jan 2016
Facts are Poison-
There is nothing as poisonous as ash dead, cold-hearted
facts. When the first Pedantic was brought into the world,
he took with him his axe and his facts, and axed
anything that conspired against him, for he idolized
the rigors of science and wished to emulate scientific method
, so that he may properly pollute the minds of artists by reassuring them
they are constantly misguided- literature is meant to be abstract
and remote. Therefore, it is necessary for the Pedantic to interpret literature. He set artists to be bound in chains and set them to
mine mountains of literature. His purpose is to cannibalize art to shreds, **** the aspirations of artists, so that they may never reach the heights of their own magnificence.
Harry J Baxter Jan 2014
I may not be good for much in this world which seems to have forgotten us
but armed with a handful of words
I am capable of feats
most people couldn't begin to imagine
I talk to a lot of younger kids
and they say
I want to be a writer
like you are trying to be
and I say to them
are you sure?
because every form of art isolates us from humanity
writing especially
and the rejections pile up faster than the bills and calls from collection agencies
and the doubt brings you down to rock bottom
ever held a knife against your own throat?
one slash away from a restful eternity
and if you think you can do it -
more power to you
but just know
that we're in the jungle
and I might be your friend
but it's just as likely that I get hungry
and cannibalize you
because the market is flooded
and I don't need any more competition
not much of a poem, I know. But I'm feeling that good competitive drive which I've been missing lately. It's good to demand what you think is yours, and sometimes you have to knock a lot of people off of the ladder above you to reach the top. All is fair in love and words.
Vlarken Hvyrmtor Jul 2015
I am a babe
suckling milk
from the breast

It is bland
It is benign

With each new experience
it becomes less so
it grows a taste

It is bitter
It is sweet

I grow my teeth and
begin to eat the
meat of it

It is so rich that I ***** it back up

There is none left

I eat the *****
until my body
accustoms itself

I grow strong on it

It twists in my gut:
a white Worm with its
tail in its jaws

My teeth and fingernails
are yellow with it
My eyes and lips
are crusty with it too

I grow my mind and
begin to see the
heart of it

It is vibrant
It is alive

I fear to eat it

I sit at the table
set it with ****** cloth and
cannibalize myself

I realize I am eternal
go to bed weeping and
share me with myself:

My **** is potency
My **** is caprice
I love myself

We lie close and examine
the heart of it

It is grey
It is dead

I eat it without fear
Myrrdin May 2023
Skinwalker lover
Call my name again
My heart a peach in your fist
Dripping
Ever longing
More, more, more
Lapping tongue
Starving dog
Cannibalize me
Again
I'll never notice
My pieces missing
Begging for scraps
While your meal
Grows cold
Melodious crackling infuses, charging static atmosphere
Vibrations penetrate barriers, fragmenting celestial sphere
Rational boundaries disintegrate, chaos emerges schizophrenic
Spliced personalities splinter, psychotic rhythm reflects genetics

Dormant heredity aroused, hysteric deranged homicide
Demoniac tempo intensifies, psychopath's insanity amplified
Demonic possession harnessed, traumatic obsession distorted
Erroneous percussion horrendous, pernicious lunatic contorted

Withering consciousness diminishes, falsified intelligence deformed
Mastermind's scheme commences, cyanotic audience malformed
Quivering frequency pulsates, puncturing deafening performance
Euphoniums circulate methane, calamitous climatic chorus

Instruments composing ballad, narration foreboding demise
Anthem consecrating malice, indulged choirs cannibalize
Virulent orchestra dissipates, convulsions eviscerate harmony
Cavernous melody resonates, cultivating maniacal symphony
Maniacal Symphony [June 7, 2017]
Category: Fiction/Relative
An attempt to re-create the insanity in a disturbed mind.
Jay Varner May 2015
Who knew that decaying
Had such a good feel
One more stab another twist
You have another meal
It feels so natural
Just like a chemical

I want to cannibalize
On my own flesh
Self-sustaining bit by bit
Until I’m no longer fresh
It feels so natural
I’m not a cannibal

But I can consume like one
And destroy myself
We’ll die while we’re young
It just makes sense
I want to **** my own brain cells
Because I can

Who are you to realize that I’m not right?
To everyone to each his own
Pleasures that I can’t fight
It feels so natural
It’s almost rational
H.G. Wells..., ah...now there
without dark shadow of a doubt,
in my (myopic brown) eyes,
a prolific writer hooked hood accessorize
the English language, and captivated

populations, sans "The War Of
The Worlds" to realize,
with an assiduous presentation
convinced listeners, how
aliens did cannibalize

innocent Earthlings strictly via radio,
where rapt audience could actualize
"FAKE subjects" pretended to agonize,
yea of course after receiving
substance that did anesthetize

in an effort to minimize
potential melee erupting,
which feasible outburst,
could tinder, kindle, and antagonize
crowdsourcing masses,

who suddenly became repentant,
and sought to apologize
each to their personal deity, apprise
zing respective comportment, thus
the apprenticed faux presidential Don,

rather than agonize
over farcical shenanigans, where dissension
among rank ken file seems to arise,
could take page from said playbook
visiting storied aforementioned scribe,

whose spirit author might be able to authorize
and conjure creative satisfactory
acceptable non costly deterrent breadthwise
cuz, more anger will materialize,
particularly if monies summarily brutalize

for social services that benefit the 99%
myself and the missus included analogous to...baptize
with gentile invisible knifed incision
or if Semitic tolled uncivil lies,
asper emotional financial, mental...
painless process to circumcise

purportedly for best interests
of citizens at heart, but tummy
essentially acting counterclockwise
to the modus vivendi that underlies
the immigrant experience that peopled

United States Of America, who did colonize
at expense of rightful natives
scattered innocent tribes, whose demise
vis a vis any fact checker, would
clearly recognize as blatant lies!
Diabolical optical ron stoppable
At your ****** scene
Outlining my master scheme
Cause casket raising is a persuasion
Like Asians
No I rather tackle your brain
So me and CTE are kinda the same
I want to bend your sense of reality to insane
And have you drive your Ferrari into flames
Distorting your social norms
And dissolving consequence
Im like the purge but with more confidence
Run away, scream, or fight back
I like all the above
Cause without a outlet
I would need a plug

See thats the headlines media dimes
Oversize to prioritize what we should
Cannibalize in our social lives
Yet I get hate because I’m wise
This owl is putting who on a loop
Like who made bohemian grove?
Who is willie lynch?
Who runs the new slave trade?
Yeah I’m the two of spades
Cutting into your shady grin
Cause these political jokers
Are two faced like a double chin
But nobody sees there’s villainous
To spew venomous at
The innocent to make them descent
While gain they cents all for
There sinful lent
And you say I’m bent
Naw I’m the anti hero you need
Kinda like spawn if dark horse
Didn’t make him take a knee
So I don’t want glee or to live happily
Cause I love all the jeers and boos
I just wonder when Henrietta Lack cells
Will be in the news?
Nathan MacKrith Mar 2020
God gave us the stars to shoot for
so we would have ***** other
than our sister or brother
eager to reach the shooting range we slammed the shuttle door
on our captain’s silver crown
in a sea spilling from His ichor
sack punctured by our hubris we drown-
memes and cat videos worth dying for

We set fire to the shuttle
gasp as our air begins to leave
Amazon(s) choose to scuttle
trees land and humans need to breathe
a musk most putrid rises as we cannibalize our space ex
who’s so far gone as to not come back
her zombie bridezilla tirade wrecks  
our plan it removes futures from the trajectory track

God gave us the stars to shoot for
so we reduced our target to soot
we revelled in our high score
not feeling the pain in our shot foot
and the cats still in secret revery dance their funny jig
sardonic wit stuffed still in every blank screen -small or large-
on the skeleton of our ghastly ghost space rig
reduced to rubble by a friendly depth charge.

God gave us the stars to shoot for
it was we who chose to use a gun
we chose to ram through the door
not checking if it was open
God gave us the stars to shoot for
leaving the details for us to decide
rockets to be built to make war or explore
as shuttlecraft for a human slingshot ride
an arching advance into the beauties of
our Creator made for us to enjoy in love
~
NM
08/25/19
Yggy May 2017
Dead, outdated, old, torn, faded
Shredded like cheese and fried like bacon
This particular cluster of mustered up star junk
Thought he hit rock bottom, then he sunk
What poor luck
Catch him on the breeze, going easy
Like a silent ****
Can't get a start *** he ****** on all the
Fire sparks
A bag of bones, regret, dusty reminiscings
Of things that weren't quite what they seemed
Hear him clearly...
For he is half deaf.
He would have more now
If he had but a fraction of what he left behind.
Look him in the eyes but he won't look back.
He's starting to see knives more like thumb tacks
Post your problem right next to the spine.

Maybe he could feel it but his brain is numb
Strung up and dumbed down,
A real ****** conundrum
...He has no hooks to spit
They tell him the bait choice is sick
But hardly any fish ever bit
So he sits in the sinking pit
Throwing rocks
Timing the bonks with the tick tocks.
Some say he'd really **** time if he had the chance
All the mind's romancin' reminds him of failed plans
He can't stand and see around,
When they told him to break a leg
He broke both just by casually leaning on em.

Seasons plot them uniform catastrophes;
Explosions of flowers weeds bugs trees, all so casually.
Compare that to this extremely sophisticated being
Flailing at every turn, constantly miscommunicating.
It's funny. A divine comedy. He begs the world "try me"
Then sits back n relaxes, crumbling the ivory tower
Just to build another one, then another, then
Cannibalize the next for another, self perpetuating blunder
Satsih Verma Oct 2019
When I ask for
the innovation, you
lob the moon.

Glass and sand
in your eyes, melt into
kisses. There was no
other way.

You cannibalize my
poems, make a statuette
and wear the pendant.

You stone a wall
of paper. Why did it
carry the names of
failed gods?

You watch the stream
of tears feeding the red
poppies about to be
slaughtered.
This fool doth not consider himself wise,
writing paltry poetry difficult
to read and/or actualize
methinks perusers of great literature
snub nose how I miserably advertise,

laughable attempt to aerobicise
fifty plus shades of gray matter
lobbying showy words agonize
zing effort perhaps best to cauterize
near petrified glob - boon

for scientists to analyze
baffling laboratory technicians
unusual crenulations
a profound surprise
pitiful peremptorily doth apologize

unlike verbalization feasible
after webbed whirled fist size
terra incognita reveals numbskull years
wrought yours truly to anesthetize
smelting, squelching,

and suppressing emotions
scored how tree rings annualize
environmental conditions definite
premature imp of the pervert
poe fella lifetime channels,

where bullies did antagonize
upon death requested autopsy authorize
zing eager scalpels to apprize
miniature dried river bed
formerly streams of consciousness

lake never seen before engendering
crowdsource to hypothesize
baffling every expert,
how terrible fate did baptize
ala lemony snicket series

of unfortunate events
multiplied power bajillion times
number only Google could surmise
obvious tell tale signs did brutalize
as if smacked upside the head

one unfortunate gladly apparently
suffered maelstroms of armageddon size
poet chars evidently
succeeded to burglarize
more successful than Watergate

psychological ploys hackers
noninvasively did cannibalize
(perhaps bored furloughed
government employees)
albeit noninvasively deeming

imposible to canonize
resultant cerebral corpus
understandably did capsize
entire body politik (Democrat)
faced, booked on hatred did demonize

verbal assaults indicate
suffering did caramelize
cerebrum, cerebellum and brainstem
resembling burnt offering 
impossible to categorize

glommed hardened integument colleagues
hard pressed to characterize
highly rendered anomaly,
hence unfair to criticize
erratic schizoid personality disorder

quite evident amyloid plaques 
did significantly crystalize
definitely explain aberrant quirks
resultant incessant emasculation 
unquestionably led him to demoralize.
Ike E Davis Feb 2020
Our President assassinated
Beale Airforce base obliterated
This was the main radar station for western
States United
A plague released
Not from nature
It was engineered
and developed
Star force a joke?
It was designed to keep our
Satellites protected.
Yet computer viruse pulled
Them from orbits projected
Now leaderless no communication
I could here jets and bombs go off
At the nearest military installation
Water shut off
Electricity gone
The cities began to devour themselves
No need for a bomb
I hoped my daughter could get home
Just to be safe with me and mom
I had a gun.
Would I use it?
To protect my family
I would save them and not
Lose it
Locals begin to cannibalize other houses and
Resources
when you only have one gun
You learn to hide and use gorilla warfare
Courses
We managed many did not
We wander a bit to keep our enemies
From finding us out.
Boy I wish I hadn't been naive
I would **** for fresh water
And a bit of cheese
We have become like RATS
prettywhnyoucry Sep 2019
will you be sleeping later?
she sent him a seemingly innocent invitation
to something more than she has had.
something far wild and scandalous-
a once in a lifetime experience.
one that could potentially leave both hurt
(but she wanted more).

yes,
he turned down her invitation
but showed up in the end
appearing to not want to hurt her
but deep down wanting to cannibalize her.
when he left her undone, he felt a sort of rue
(but he wanted more).
Bard Aug 2022
I need water thats the nail in the coffin
Missing some screws on those coffers
No future for a buck thats the offer
Indenture your life forever after

Droughts and heat in the room so take a seat
Its about to beat down our tomb and dig up the meat
Watch brothers cannibalize each other we all gotta eat
We all gotta live but the livings run out so take your seat

The perpetrators stacked the bread up real high
But the wheats all gone and I hope that currencys a lie
Traitors among the starved left their children to die
The elephants got itself a long rope and hung us real high

Mouth dry skin cracked the bones will break through skin
To dry to cry wracked with pain all alone we break in sin
Was the high worth the dead planet was it worth the end
The end is nigh is what they said
Said the Mayan
Said the Roman
Said the Babylonian
Said the Akkadian
Said the Persian
Said the Sumerian
Said the American

— The End —