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DJ Thomas May 2010
We each have a voice and life, it is how we use them not how we might!  

Stop glaciers melting
Huge population movements
Death of progeny


The small reductions in carbon emissions being targeted for 2020 or 2050 - are thought to little to late to slow global warming.  The melting polar ice and glaciers together with our changing weather patterns are now fact. The resulting loss of river systems and rising sea levels will mean the desertification or flooding of agricultural lands and famine, then the migration of populations - starting with the skilled and rich seeking safety, to escalate into the terror of armed bands
warring over water, food, women and land.

By 20 20
Lets hope for twenty twenty
A 20 20


There is now the thought that the huge physical change wrought by global warming can be charted by the escalation in earthquake and volcanic activity.  And that this may eventually trigger huge eruptions in the American and Asian continents,
destroying civilisations to create a planetary volcanic winter.

Again fire and cold
The cycle repeats itself
Destroying nature


Was there a civilisation in deep history before the flood, prior to and during the last ice-age?
This has been researched and written about in great detail during the last twenty years
and many now believe it already proven by scientific review of documents and
thousands of archaeological finds, also by scientists having used the exactness
in the astronomical alignments of ancient monuments
to recalculate there greater age.  

Dead sold souls herd us
Lost mindless finger puppets
Vapid witless words


Sadly, the majority put their reliance and faith in
the actions of lawyer-ed politicians, most of whom evidence
a fixation on their own welfare,  selfish self-glorification needs
and an unwillingness to rock-the-boat once in power*

Politicians thwart
Party politics deafen
Propaganda’s herd


Putting off all radical action required until after the next election.  
Many have gifted away the necessary legal control and power to take national radical action
to a political or trade grouping of nations - in effect retaining only national rights
to go to war, put up taxes, borrow and spend monies.

Please no rhetoric
Complete local transition
Forget politics


We each have a voice and life, it is how we use them not how we might!

Living we give voice
So one voice might yet be heard
All being, believe!


We are left holding our eco-inheritance and children’s future in the palm of our hand.
Please let our love and imagination drive us each forward to make change.


Biosphere a greenhouse 
Target the impossible
Please gift some life soon?


So, we each of us have hard personal choices to make, which will encompass both positive and negative
benefits in terms of our time, lifestyle, health and wealth.  I chose to base my choices solely on how it
might benefit the eco-system and the lives of our children.

My choices are grouped under five headings: transport, food, home, lifestyle and further action. They are:
-  

Transport: Rail; Bus; Coach; Bike;
(I pass woods in bud - a Red Kite hunting twisting, unhurried moments).  
To give up ownership of electric / motor vehicles
and to avoid air travel where possible.


Highly vaporous.
Emissions farting -
barrelling vipers
.

Food: To eat meat/fish only once a week at most;
(Slaughteramas greed - industrial carcase-ed meals. Sheep full of cancer)
To study fast methods of vegetarian cooking; buy local organic foodstuffs;
visit local farmers markets and farm shops; grow my own when possible
and help friends establish vegetable/herb gardens.
To not ever feed, cleave and eat!


Fat shopaholics,
a deadly consumerism.
Cancers meat to eat


Home:   A cottage sized for me, friends and neighbours,
overlooking a wooded valley and trout stream.
Like me a little untidy and basic
.

Crossing the shallows
trout fingerling feed at dawn
White dots steep hill path

Dusk - eight painted queue
river paired mare and foal
Foliage lined dark black


Well positioned to capture the morning sun, airy and light.  
Yet insulated to stay cool or warm. With easy access to mountain bike trails
and long distance bus routes, plus several end-of-line train stations
in energetic cycling distance over the mountains


A differing beat
Quickly fading doubled steps -
pulling separate


Life Style:* A thinking poet mountain biker, living organic
not part of the great noisious noxious ribbons of hurtling tired.

Pressured paced life -
impossible  commitments.
Organic living


Further Action: *I intend to give up meat not because of the terrible cruelty involved in ten billion or more animals
being slaughtered every year to feed the human race, but due to
: 1)  animal farming being a major factor in the burning of 50 million year old rainforests at a rate of one and half acres per second to generate huge volumes of greenhouse gases, destroying the richest habitats on Earth and a principal source of oxygen; and 2)  that these billions of farmed animals
are themselves a major source of greenhouse gases
.

Burning rainforests
Feeding to cleave open and eat
Subsistence farming


With ongoing intensive fishing, the world's fisheries already in crisis and climate change,
it could be that we will run out of wild-caught seafood much earlier than 2030!


Conserve energy -
and natural resources
Don’t waste foolishly


Each of us might have a different view of what globalisation is,
for some this word encapsulates the dangers of our global fast food culture, omnipresent brands,
popular culture, changing diets and the growing use of packaged processed foods
.

Freedom to act sought
Globalisation's curses
Octopus suckers!


For many it is the illegal international trade in endangered species of flora and fauna,  
second only in value to the $350 billion a year global drug trafficking trade that now services
perhaps more than 50 million regular users of ******, ******* and synthetic drugs
.

The label 'globalization' can cover the: spread and integration of different cultures;  
industry moving to low per capita income countries; sweatshops supplying this seasons branded goods
to retail outlets worldwide;  complex international interleaved financial trading instruments being developed
by banks and financial institutions to trade worldwide, create profits and pay huge bonuses, without risk to themselves
.

Globalisation -
orchestrated profiteers,
betting our losses


Many see globalisation as being the beneficial spread of free trade, liberty, democracy and capitalism,
involving the efficient allocation of resources and capital through the spread of technology.
Unelected international bodies and institutions such the World Bank actively promulgate globalisation,
a '‘world government’ promoting close economic ties between nations
.

Enculturation
Our sad indoctrination
Globalization
  

The anti-globalisation movements dislike the corporate and political nature of globalisation,
protesting the resultant harm done to the biosphere, a more rapid and extensive deterioration of the environment
and the unintended but very real consequences of globalisation: the erosion of traditional culture
resulting in social disintegration; a breakdown of democracy; the spread of new diseases;
changes in diet; increasing poverty.
.

I view globalisation and it's propagation as leading to the final destruction
of the world's cultures and civilisations by locked us into a
dogmatic world political doctrine secured through
trade and political alliances of states, institutions
and corporations that remain hell bent on
imposing this world governance. Such
that individual countries governments
cannot consider making substantive
radical change to avert the planet
being pushed into a natural cycle
that will end the human race
.

Caged in Fools World
The people hear heroic call  
Each one a hero
!

The peoples and cultures of the world need perhaps just one western country to
break the legal chains of globalisation and adopt a radical economic regeneration program
designed to make the total transition to a dynamic culture of localised
clean communities centred on the individual not competition*  

Only one tool
National taxation for -
economic change.


Here I begin discussing how global, regional and national economies might
be based on the growth of small organic local economies.
not the repeated foolishness involved in chasing lower cost base manufacture -
each time at great cost to the economy it has migrated from!
Then a further culture becoming totally reliant
on the transport of foodstuffs and goods -
I can here you saying
:

"Oh **** this guy is -
talking about change, changing -
the world we live in!"


Yes, I am and do we have a choice?  But such change will be organic and involve business
in the restructuring and regeneration of economies till we share green economies.  
In small part his is already happening slowly!


Unlock taxation,  
survivals powerful tool.  
Needed now for change!


This is why we need to consider doing something that many of today's
plutocrats, economists, bureaucrats and politicians, would dismiss out of hand or
discuss endlessly in terms of perfectly competitive markets, perverse economic incentives etc


Major solution
National taxation change
Human extinction



WORK in HAND

This haiku sequenced eco-haibun is an ongoing project being penned day-by-day by many that care and take action. Your reactions are all welcome, thank you


**Take back control now.  
Cease all squabbling, achieve act - decisively!

Globalisation's, global control cut away.
Diversity sought

Promote well being.  Act with imagination -
for ecology!

Creating employment -
with local utilities, local food and transport

Incentivise tax,  to create local benefits.
Gain prosperity

Income taxation -  value added tax, aged -
dangerous mistake

Local licensing.  Lead don't follow excuses.
Saviour taxation

Imaginative - energy, food and transport -
local licensing

An alternative - energetic strategy,
greening business

Organic foodstuffs - out compete processed food.
Life promoting health

Healthy government - a healthy population. 
Zero income tax!

Locally taxed - by distance it travelled -
and category

Products bar coded.  Point of agreed production -
and category

Local added tax, by distance it travelled -
and category

Local energy, initiatives supplant.  
Replacing at risk

User energy, capture and storage.  
Eco-dwelling plan

Local water works,  supplanting initiative.
Replace the at risk

User water need.  Capturing and storing half.
Securing supply

Communications, local initiatives.
Protecting our needs

Local healthy food, life saving initiative.
Planting guaranteed

Sort unemployment, local work available.
Agriculture base

Radical transport - initiatives needed.
Change made possible

Season’s colours blur - in ageing contemplation
chilling warm breezes

Ganges dried mud - dust
Armed hungry thirsty tide
Generations despair,  lost

Our politicians -
squabble condemn progeny.
Flee panic and die

HAIKU SEQUENCE FINISHED

HAIBUN PROSE BEING ADDED
Day by Day
This haiku sequenced eco-haibun needs prose and additional haiku added day by day.  Contributing comment and reactions considered for inclusion...

copyright©DJThomas@inbox.com 2010
Apore Che Jul 2015
Held in the highest esteem but inept in equality
Unprecedented equality she can never guarantee.
Yet she is dimmed perfect.
Imperfect is aiding the poor at the expense of the bourgeoisie
Yet vice versa of this infamy is dimmed rational.
Rationally speaking, we all can't be rich.
Thus why there would always be tiers.
With the upper tier benefiting at the expense of the proletariat
Yet the humanists are seen as rivals
And stigmatized via false credence.
These men, rooted in selflessness are considered dangerous.
With their movement colloquially synonymous with political abhorrence
As long as we all can't be rich.
Pursuit for Capita is as futile a venture as underwater basket weaving.
Andrew T Hannah Apr 2014
Praeludium in via ...

Vidi heri mane quando ridebam coloribus egregiis,
Eradere auro , trans tabula caeli , tentorium ...
Excelsus super omnes montes mundi mole fratres
Nimborum desertum , ubi non sit humana exsuscitatur .
Et non vidi nobili altitudo futura ...
Bonitas terribilis Vidi , *** indomitus.
Et peregrinare in ea carne existimarem Semel tamen divina ,
Nunc datum est scire , et non confundamur ab eo opus .
Ambulavitque *** Deo, quod nunc facio , et passus est ... accentus
Proditio amor et passionibus , quamvis non recipiat ecclesia ,
Divinitatis naturam , ne occulta omnia confitentur ?
Audis tu solus in universo ab duces ineptum
Ipsos victu pascuntur finguntur mendacii .
Sed ambulavit in vobis, ex ea ipsa mundi redivivi ,
Proelia ante hos annos multos, in carne nostra, amissis vate sacro .
Nos sequi vestigia veterum monumentis, ut ostensum est ;
Quia ex nihilo nati sumus , et adhuc in filiis tuis, ac spatium vivendi ,
Latebunt , quo melius in manifesto , vultus ingenio tegmina.
Ego sum primus , et consilium ... Memini tamen alta urantur
Humanis uti licet , *** aliena michi negotium.
Lorem quid ad ignorantiam et extra ,
Quia vidisti me in tenebris, in ardentem rogum meum .
Si sustinuero , praeire , ubi angeli labuntur ...
Quis autem, si non satis est dedicata piget.
Irrisorie , quoniam ego scio quod salventur , et saepe etiam ,
Post tantum est **** , et sic esset forma in re firmatam ?
Imago Dei , huc ad nos omnes in sanguine ipsius ,
A primis ad ultima, ut alpha et omega, gladius acutus .

Prologus : ( Os meum labitur )

Puer fui servus ad aras tam sacras ,
Hymnis immaculatorum : et absque iniquitate .
Quod *** ipse portabat diadema thons nudus ...
Expositum Spiritus meus, qui intellexi gravitatem.
Quis credit sanctum profanae habitu virtutum
Et illi qui in eo sunt ut carnifices ovis ad occisionem ,
Innocentes cogit induere larvis ad porcellana et operuerunt capita sua ,
Et filii eorum diriperent pueritia , vinctus catenis rudis .
Sicut teenager : ambulans in naturis hominum omnium adprobante ,
Et egressus est a me omnes, qui violatores extiterunt in coinquinatione verebatur .
Angelo fidem reperto cecidi inveni sanctitati
Nomen meum in ea , et curet abluitur dubium inveni .
Venit ad nuptias, et omnes dedi uxorem proditione ,
In solutione huius coniunctionis nostrae et sine intervallo in solitudinem imposuit ?
Traiectus mortalis caro mea reliquit me solum in sanguinem ,
Cor ejus scissum est , absque omni cultu ex ordine funem .
Angelus autem meus et leniat iras mansit dolori
Mea lux, in vigiliis, in nigrum, quod est victa ,
Admonens quia carnis mortalitate ... maxime
Angelus vult me et tremor et durum accepimus.
Et ego factus sum quam ... traumas vitae ac lacrimis
Et dimisit , in specie quae sunt post , veluti a me plagas .
Nox deinde calor intensior saunas percipimus ...
Sicut est mihi in choro , relictum est , nisi ab illo esse extensum ,
Et invicem tradent , et mortalem , ut impunita essent, sed numquam mihi ...
Non tradent ; effundam spiritum meum , et non totum .
FYLACTERIUM creare ex omni me , et oculus innocens ...
Quod amari posco sum ​​ut carbo margarita alba et nigra ;

Section I : Sacrificium Doll

Part I : ( litus sanguinem )

Ne revoces me pupa enim priscis recesserunt cavernam
Sunt inanima appetant , non realis forma in utero ;
A puero bibere rubeam ore exploratores in vastissimam taberna ...
Dum nati psallens FARRATUS agros effusi .
Vadimus ad domum Dei , in plagis , in magna pecunia debetis ...
Hoc non est ad oras Nunc cruore manant strigitu rubra de memoria , polluetur .
Nulla est enim me primus ad ignitionem gloriae ...
Quando autem mens aeterna , in omnibus placentes, causabatur laetitiam .
In stellis ibi verba quae ego volo inauditum revocare,
Quia descendi ita pridem apud venire primum ?
Sollicitus purus fabrica MYSTICUS chaos genitus antiquorum
Mitti expectant limine signa magica.
Interdictum revertatur in carminibus meis , Licinius, ut audacia ,
Quia oblitus est mei fere est: nunc originem , ut tragici.
*** filii bibere, et se abscondunt nati seorsum
*** aquæ in sanguinem, et super triticum, et arefecit fœnum, et humida !
Signum quod venturum est mutare et laboro mentem.
Facies in luna ALLUCINOR in metu torquetur , horror ...
Dumque in fauces manu stare super pectus
Inter ordines diu frumentum umbra nigro ambula
Genus servo meo animas infantium .
Aestas flavescunt, Phoebe caelesti audent .
Mea sola mcestas lupus sonitum audiri potest ,
Et *** feris leo in pontumque moueri relinquere ...
A natura mihi dolet cupio concupivit paradisus reducat .
Vidi terram terror , ut sanguis in sinu
Ater sanguis in terra , quae facit viventia ululare ...
Sicut **** habet stultitia non dicam prava vel !

Part II : ( Crucifixo et Inferorum Animas Excitat)

Nam inertis est gemere pupa altari parato, in sacrificium,
In lapidem calcarium, et in cavernam, ubi sunt wettest fingit arcus !
Un - res sunt, sed etiam *** vivit in vulneribus animae , ut in glaciem ,
In horrore frigoris fictilem , ita *** pedibus non vocavit.
Serpentipedi mucrone subrecto , remittit praecise a pupa in collo ,
Et non potest dici , quia non habet pupa voce clamare.
Puer, et egressus est a tabernam , aspectus eorum quasi a naufragii vile ...
Ut curem hominem a superioribus agentibus , corpus totum mundum.
Infra in concavis locorum asperitate visa petram
Magna voces resonare in tenebras , et vocavit nomen tacuit.
Eripuit animam trahit nauta Multo gregis
Ubi aereum reddet unicuique antiquum signum desideratum .
Et venit ad bibendum aquas illas vitae malis mederi ...
Porcellana , et liberatus a vinculis mortis obscuris sentiat frigore ;
Animas in captivitate , unde nemo mortalium loqui
Sed statim liberavit remotis perforabit clavi ...
Omnis **** , qui dicitur Golgotha ​​, olim in cruce positus .
Omnis autem mulier quoque, ad quod omnes tales sunt tormento
Et facta est , dum consummaretur sacrificium insita primum sic infirma est,
Et intantum ut nisl tot annis perpessi .
Signati post fata diu Quod murus ignis in Terra ,
Stigmatibus ferre posset ita etiam multa futura!
Quod signum erat in manu mea, ut labatur pes meus, et dimittam ...
Tamen adhuc vetera perseverare illusionibus , et non possum excitare multos .
Ego, qui iam tantum conligati Lorem ferrum quid reale,
Factaque est infinita in dolo : Ego sum ​​, et desiderio erat pax.
Nam et ego quod negas , nisi aspera ac rudia mei liberatione ;
Angelus liberavit me , et nunc inter saevus sigillum frangere conantur .

Part III : ( The Return of lux)

Qui a mortuis Surrexit , frigidior , ubi de somno , ultrices in somnis , per
Et obliti sunt intelligentiae invocatum est super sancta miserunt innoxia verba ...
Et inde apud hominem , ut maneat MYSTICUS sequuntur revertamur ,
Ea aetate in inferno commemoratione praeteritorum.
Qui suscitavit eis manum meam , et pugionem eius lumen gloriae,
Relicta meae effercio fluere sanguis subito currere libero.
Ex profundo flamma surgit millennial amisso puella puer ,
Quæ est angeli redivivam sinit luce clarius ostendit .
Et omnis qui non occaecat oculos ad intima ;
Infideles , in momento temporis ponere in obprobrium .
*** stellae ab Diua sacrorum opera voluntatis
Dum coccineum limen transeat , lucem adfert .
Momento enim omnes in caelo et in terris sunt ,
Sicut dies longus tandem inclinatus ante noctem veniat .
In tenebris , claritas multo maiorem et perfectiorem descendit ,
Eorum, qui dum in nomine meo orbata est devium.
Sicut incensum in conspectu angelorum ira animos eorum , occlusum ...
Ferrum IRRETUS texturae talis effugere nequeunt carcerem
Nam quicquid occaecat vidit lucem et scindit
Nisi quia in templis revellens mortalibus irae.
Et , postquam ipsæ fuerint fornicatæ infidelium , ut uoles, petulans ,
Et factum est in excogitando dogma , quod de ratione immemor ?
Horrendum non fides sit , tamen ita fecisse ,
Ante finem exspectent praemia petunt .
*** enim , ut est in paradisum suscipit dereliquerunt ...
Imago autem libertatis quam servitutis et negotio.
Nimia tempus extractam converterat a gladio:
****, ut spectet ad salutem in lucem , caeca lumina sua .

Antiphon alpha :
Quia hoc est ut , barbaris quoque innocentiae gentilitium mendacium vendere ...
Numquid et vos vultis emere , aut aliquam nunc forsitan putas,
Ad sciendum neque rationi consentaneum neque aetate sapientes ...
Quod si non moverent malles *** saltare!
Pleni sunt somnia noctes ; Dies mei tantum ...
Ego ad bis et quem maxime diligebam , in purpura quoque , et aprico occasus .
Ego autem haec imago non ad tangere memoriam tot ,
Qui replet in sanguinem furoris me , et frigidam desiderio finis .
Et considerandum est quod *** in ultima desperatione rerum , in cuius manu mea, equo et pilos in ore gladii ,
Nam ni ita esset, nunquam tamen inde trans familia .
Sed abusus est , ut fuit, et quidem instar caedentes sepem
An ut reliquos omnes transcendunt omnia , amice!
Ego superfui , transfiguravi ascendi in fine est ,
Multo magis quam erat, non plus quam diruere animus .
Sed tamen , quia speravi in solitudinem , ut a somno exsuscitem ancillam meam in flamma ...
Ardet , o superi, ut arbitror , usque uror dissiliunt!
De caelo et magis obscurant vestris, et tridentes, et contritio ,
Audio furorem tympana caelo antiqui gigantes hiemes.
Dii irascantur et ecce valide erutas ,
Uvasque calcantes Angeli hominis Illi autem vinariis ageretur ...
Recordatus sum in omnibus navigantibus battleship galaxies ,
In die ortus nubes inter exaestuans, quod ' vaporem ...
Depopulari Sodomam et Gomorrham, ad contumelias !
Ibi eram: et *** impiis non perire denique gemitu.
Ut illuderet mihi : et populus , quia ego bonus sum male velle ,
A Deo est, quam diu tot mala ferre cogetur .
Ego autem non sum solus , quia multa in eo et detorqueri
Deus remittit, nam adhuc sed non est intellectus ;

Section II : Hostiam de Spider

Part I : ( Rident Primus )

Caelum non egerunt pœnitentiam super ulcus nigrum est furore , et in indignatione, et in iustitia :
Et factus sum caro , quamvis intellectus non mortale .
In antro loca , quæ transivi , et dæmonia multa discurrunt ,
Et locis minus adhuc amor in search of a provocare .
In quo autem in craticiis tectoria atria mea, et thronus fuit stabilis ...
Et super collem , ubi dolorum laborum animae perit labor in mundanis ,
Transcendi vincula et consilio fidelium expectabo laudatur.
Ignis et sulphur et, semper est dextera arderent super altare ?
Ridentem cogo faciem meam : non enim veni , ut velle,
Ut in hora *** iam iuvenem, *** proposito aureum ...
Quæ pro impenso super solidum, pretium quis ,
Qui autem non cognovit , quomodo cupiam sibi solvere ...
Furor solitudinis nascitur ira nascitur ex malitia,
Qui autem contemnunt me , quia sine causa Provocantes me .
Quid est **** , impunitatem , ne quis putaret se excusat ;
Quam sapere , *** culturis tuum: mergi , in balneis , in ardentem .
Loquor de inferno, qui est infidelis nescis ?
Neque enim suis oculis effossis clavorum ...
Loquor cruciatus qui daemonia fecerunt superat .
Primus erit mihi dolor meus *** omnis fera voluntas ut ratio ...
Ut qui me conspui caro quod ambulans ,
Nescis modo larva facies mea , abscondens se.
Attendit ad illa nihil nisi insipientis solis erratur in sonis cantus
Tantum numerus ratus e fratre soror .
Sed in caelestibus quae sine causa nata est incestus est alchemical ?
Habitat in me peccatum occultum compages sǽculo.
Sit mihi vim inter gentes auditus est ABSURDUS musica ...
Spiritus meus qui regit omne simile est genitus.

Part II ( vindicta aurum )

In hortos, in quibus cupiditas sanguis rosaria semina ,
I , in manu eorum , qui esurit Quorum sitit aquam surgit !
In quaerere dilectionis affectum bestiis pavi eget
Quid faciam ut pudeat , habet me non elit .
O **** , quo impune ausu palamque vociferari ,
Quod amor sit ex me credis , et me opus manuum tuarum ,
Ut timidus , et cucurrit ad me latere turba depravari ,
In simulata excellentiam tuam , et ipse te vile animal .
Coniunctio oris linguae quasi telam laqueari
Si fieri potest araneae ; et fugiet a turpis ut octo pedes nidum ...
Et *** jam non calidus humanitatis indignum ,
Cogitans te meliorem quam reliqui descendes !
Ut vitae pretium millies , tibimetipsi .
Creaturam factus sum nocte expectant te aranea heu !
Nolite putare quia ego audirem . utrumque stridens cruris ...
Odium ductor tuus , et equi ejus , et ascensorem ejus .
Et in vestra web Video vos, Quirites immune ungues acuti ,
Ad toxicus venenum , quod oculis non potes, nisi te , octo ...
Ex quo bases Caesios sine timore, et sic primum
Ut dolores tuos comedat vos accendentes ignem caelum ;
Detur paenitentiae venia , quae dicis omnia cogit , ne superare dolores ,
Qui tibi semper, quæ videtur , non est potentia ad non noceat .
Et ascendit ulterius sapere plus pavoris tui ...
Numquam puerile ludibrium ulla facta .
Omnis domus tua dissolutae horologiorum ad socium non est ?
In desertis chaos est gaudium, ut si quod habuerunt.
Surgit in novum ordinem , nemo potest negare chaos genitus locus ,
Dum descendes perdunt, muneribus laesae.

PARS III ( Ultimo Rident)

Et sic videtur quod Angelus se et ante deam
Angelus autem nominis vocare aliquis tenuerit formarum.
Et qui in illis est , maiora sunt, ego saepe ad extraneas ,
Fingunt enim se perfectum , ignorant eorum saevitum ,
Num amor crustacea tam veteri quam in praedam , et mendicum ,
Quod minus quam tuum est , quam sumpsi eaque cibum ...
Est autem tarn coquina sicut clibanus tua vadit et ora
Ipse, ipse est extra te praemium virtutis tuae chores ,
Sicut enim res suo cuidam negotium , qui meretricem ... Lorem ipsum leve,
Putas praemium amaret , et mendicum , falli te .
Quid autem vocatis me alienum **** ... amor est malum , et hoc pudet,
Et similiter anima atque animus , quibus tandem corpus infirmare.
Vides tantum larva ... sub aspectu nisurum
Larva ut me in tenebris tenebris latet .
Circa collum tuum habebis , ut falsae aestimationis pendet a mortuis, et corona ,
Quia sterilis tibi relinquo mundum , Intenta ancillæ.
Consurgitur in excitate de reliquis abire tibi , qui sunt cognati mei
De manibus eorum procul offendant pedes vestri ?
Qui manet in coemeterio quasi mortui
Non tollere incorruptione Nimis tibi dubium .
Hue tacito lachrymis virgines flere ...
Ad mea, et robur , in quo praeda, gregibus rursum super vias hominum ,
Ad eos qui non ineptis metus mutetur ,
Aureus transmutare non magis quam plumbea nocte dies ;
Quod verum est de fine , qui scit ... Alchemist
Magistra rerum artes a me in profundum.
Ágite , quod sum aggressus creatura placet mutare ...
Ut res sunt nostrae demiurgorum lasciva oscula enim calidius ?

Omega Antiphon :
Non est autem in Utopia , non videtur quod ...
Donec ut nosmet ipsos cognoscimus prima quaerimus imaginem .
*** et in sacrificio sui ipsius , a volunt reddi obsequium ...
Qui ad reformandam et divina se , *** Leo renata agnus mitis !
Sicut in Christo, ex parte in qua invocatum est cicatrix, et vulneratus est ...
Sed simplex conversio ad dissimilis vultus nolui .
Memini dolore meo, ut acer et vehemens ...
Donee tantum possum emissus dolor servare sensu caret.
Quomodo potest aedificare paradisum non est, nisi in se mutant ;
Mutare ante mutatum esse non est in medio ; quae est in via .
Qua ad paradisum , et oportet eam, et non deficiunt,
Ne ad caelum, nisi quam nos aedificare illud infernum iniustitiis nos .
Utopia , non ruunt ad genus humanum, nisi a te, tu es qui habitavit ?
Nisi quod est extra omne malum quod in se corrumpunt ,
Manifestum enim est , nisi malum, quod mundatam ab omnibus malis moribus.
Tunc malitia faciatis abstulit senex super pluteo tom .
An non intellegat , quid est salvator ...
*** diceret quod non omne quod simplices filii ingredi
Regnum caelorum , et inde ad delectationem pertinere ...
Et quomodo potes perfrui , si tibi placet , cauillando crudelis ?
*** aurora tempore domini nituntur hominum planeta ...
Numquam imaginandi praecipiet ut discat primum voluntatis.
Non armorum vi , nec inutile mandatum ...
Sed *** modestia , et misericordia ; ergo qui ad cor suum in satietatem,
Gáudii innumerabiles et celebrationibus quae causa ?
Sed animus intendatur dolores peccatum lacus.
Ubi plausus rotundum vt quilibet sensus ?
Modernitatem iocabitur ullum definitum ornare.

Section III : sacrificium sui

Part I : ( hortos perditio )

A ziggurat sublatus est , arenosa in calidum lateres , quos coquetis in igne ...
Septem fabulae in caelum, sicut turris Babel ,
Quod in solitudinem, et in
This is how this poem is meant to be read. In it's original form.
Latin is nothing but the purest form of expression when it comes to language.
In the meantime in the Állos kósmos or Ultramundi, Wonthelimar after hearing the speeches and paragraphs of the speakers saw from paradise how Calypso Lepidoptera appeared, approaching in great magnitudes on the dry land on the banks of the blue and golden stones of Skalá. In torrents of rushing from the water-sky with wind-water, by geomorphological hydraulics of the collapse of the irresistible capacity to harass each other in the ears of Seleuco's dialogues, after they piled up in the sneaking curds of him on the island of his speech. Right there it settled from the koelum or sky of the Lepidoptera from the Orofí or ceiling, on the natural arches of aeolian erosion and its devastating plumage, appearing in the subaerial splendor of Chauvet and its gloomy darkness, changing the morphology of the bank of Skalá turned into enchanted turquoise light also with Calypso nuances. From here Wonthelimar obscures the circumflex arc or circumflexes, which pierced and eroded the surface, piling up the ex-generals of Alexander the Great, to skewer them on the stump that was languidly seen supporting them, after the tides of Lepidoptera that avalanche in destined per capita towards the destined underworld of Wonthelimar.

Wonthelimar was separated from everyone by the moat that was separated from the gods of the surface, but now where the supporters of Seleucus were predestined by imbibing themselves in the bilocated kingdom of Chauvet and its darkness, where they were put into agreements of suitability and clarity of words discursive for the eagerness to persuade his major general. But they all fell into the middle of a dark Ultraworld, judging themselves to be dying in stockpiles of biosystems where no one helped them and gave them some indication or diagnosis of being separated from the canopy that drained them from spectral affairs, speaking as vivid visions of benefits and sovereignties that escaped from themselves without contemplation or quietism of the human race, which procreates xenophobia to kings without throne or nation. Under the Attic, calendar were the months here were only eighth, Anthesterion, received them with the name directly of the main festival celebrated in this month, Anthesteria. In goods of name contests in the semester of Pyanepsia, Thargelia, and Skira where they were relatively significant, in some of the greatest celebrations in the life of a Polis, which is not recognized in the name of the month. Some sparkled in the sound of the Great Dionysia celebrated in Elaphebolion (ninth month), and the Panathenaia in which they are only indirectly recognized in Hekatombaion (month one), named after the hecatomb, of the sacrifice of "one hundred oxen" celebrated at night. End of the Panathenaia. This is where the suspicious fondness of both families of Seleucus and Alexander the Great differed in the accent that marks the written line of the infra Polis, where the leaders of Haides or Hades are lost, for the purposes of Aïdes, as not indivisible, but with the presence of Wonthelimar, who is invisible but epically static on his balustrade in all the rings that chorally wore them for each patronage of the diádocos generals, even so he had betrayed the Hellenic legacy, by a Hellenic-Orthodox one in the disappearance of Alexander the Great in Babylon without knowing that it had been rescued by Wonthelimar, surpassing the limits of the rings of stefánes ibix, or Aros de íbiz, as nano kvantikoí daktýlioi, quantum nano-ring that augured to sensitize the dermis of its carpal phalanges, from the eighth, Anthesterion to Elaphebolion (ninth month), minus the one hundred and twenty days of gestation in a month of the attic of imníbiz, that it was of wise advice to receive him in the new engend rivers of Wonthelimar in the depths and bundles of marrow with gestation forms of an Ibex goat, with their embedded bases of stalagmites, filing the meaning of each life that was lodged in the depths of the caves and its opacity. The Eygues of Valdaine was the Acheron, but with half the deceased who sat in rows and unleashed their laurels that possessed poor aids tormented by mandrake root hands.

The underworld was a swamp that covered the heels of the diádocos in the immense blackness of the cavern that wounded them one and the other with its Kopis, by more than a hundred blows and slashes that covered them with mud and moans in their buried half bodies. That they had been intruded from linear entrances to the underworld of Wonthelimar. In the thick musts of the quagmire where objects with ornaments of fear and cavalier materiality lay, such mangrove deserts satiated with gloomy fibromyalgia and amnesia, refiguring in the wandering bones, that sinned in lights and destinies that were adopted in the sub-world with incorporeal needs., more than the exhaustion that tore the skeletal muscle of each one behind the meager compromise openings, in the strong ligaments of the host Wonthelimar that took them at forced steps towards paradises where there will never be consciousness from a Theseus typology, but from a sub taxonomy - Verthian mythological, for purposes and among others that unleash it by propelling self-infernos that are not those born by a Macedonian force or Satrap into puny kings turned into a servile, mute and decayed.

It is necessary, that solitude of all the entrances from the abyss into which they fell, was titanic and of ultraphobic acquiescent inspiration, and in the acid gestures of search of Persephone or Aerse that in random gestures fled from their persecutors, like females who ended fleeing from themselves falling into the back room where the end of souls is never exceeded or Psyché re emigrating from the punishments of a satire or a static that resulted in a ghostly wandering, or in tendentious spinners that tribulated in belated bundles of repentance. From primitive times, subjugations have been longed for in kings who would never think of leaving their cracks and washing their hands behind the backs of others who stood by, leaving the courage to lose themselves in the perversity of a body deposited in the Tartars, having to give them their prehistoric debts and meadows of carpeted debts and caged rooms.

The generals commanded by Seleucus walked barefoot along with the stump that wounded them in seams for their plantar areas, and in extreme distress, they did not dare to ask mercy from the cave host who transported them through the deep pit of perpetuity, where the frigid bullet of angina of Wothelimar, filled them with memories that protected their survival. In unworthy caprice and watery *****,… it ran frivolously down their legs, even after each impulse to recover the flashes of estimating being scared of oneself, after finding dead fruits subsisted halfway, feeling voices from the origin of the abyss that I quoted them.

Etréstles says: "Mashiach allow me to enter this grave, I do not know if I should go to rescue them, because I know what will happen..., I only ask that if I enter with courage, help me to find the same light of the exit, with the same memory of not to waste arrests, and not to lose myself in my entrustment by those who I know will not return”

Behind some Sabine poplars, it is seen how the elytra of the Lepidoptera were opened for those who crossed from the darkness without the appearance of their fruitful eyes that tickled praises of surrender, and not of ibid in the ibid that surrounded them, as if they were violated that heal at the moment when their faces departed from the miracle of privacy, and from the solitude decreed of non-existent company, companionship calming any dogmatic symptoms and hypoxia that the glimpse of the Eygues and the Acheron left them, further behind in which Saint John the Apostle and Vernarth, Reader and Petrobus to bring Etréstles back.

Saint John the Apostle says: “Vernarth go for your brother,… he wants to protect the souls of Seleucus and his comrades, go soon because there is little left to fill them with darkness which will even besiege in their reasoning and anti homelands that will not be from the din of the campanile, out of tune with joy that runs on the graces of the gift that frees you from the worst virus by not being anti-viral… ”.

Vernarth replies: “Etréstles is the slogan of Erebus, perhaps of Bumodos…, I have to stop him for his profession, since the comrades of Seleuco will not return, the effigies of Wonthelimar have made them of his children in Ultramundi, and what is Solstice of the underworld, it is only a small Sun that fits in the buttonhole of the orthogonal slot that confines it”.

At that time Raeder paraded where he before they reached the omega of the gully pit, running swiftly over the eyelets of Wonthelimar, leaving both completely naked, to tear them away from the contrived spell and bring Etrestles back all the way together and running., but both stripped of lightness and acceleration escaped from the centripetal bodies. After the tortured walls of the pit, they no longer supported themselves in their Skotos or Erebo of Wothelimar in such a primordial deity of this theogonic and fantastic event in the bilocated cavern of Chauvet in Skalá. Here all the densities and units of physical genres, from above and below surrounded them in the thick sulfur atmosphere, Ananké in such a goddess of inevitability ran after all who tried to reverse the situation of the diádocos, for the purpose of consenting their paragraphs Hellenics and to save their lives, but the mother of the Moiras went behind Etréstles and Vernarth along with Rader and Petrobus who were basking in the glow of Persephone that imbued them as they stagnated drinking mead with the Canephores who followed him. From this cryptic moment or from the bombastic insignia of Crete, Kanti's trotting from his Cretan figure was felt united with the Lepidoptera Calypso, redeeming Demeter from her crying on the edge of some Bern olive trees, emptier now that the last gradients of the agonic and venous voices in the hilarious of some diádocos that were completely absorbed by the benevolent illusion of Wonthelimar, snowy in the harrowing tenuity of his gestures and of the great Iberian that took them towards the heights of the hillocks and towards the Ultramundi that It turned them into proles of the mountainous areas, and into super aquatic monsters with thousands of loose eyes in the arches of the generals bleating, which transposed ****** subjugations of primal deities, and philastics of phantasmagorical genres of Hellas that is plucked from the peritoneum of their stomachs, and that guttural eradicated them from the blue adrenaline of Apollo.

This odyssey dispelled the orthogonal lines of the poetic affliction of those who could see the sunset and the Spyché ***** that antagonized Ananké's numinous efforts to extubate them, and perhaps exile them to the Theban plains to graze Achaeans of the first degree alongside Shamash. Lamenting of young afternoons and of the abysmal with beautiful hair of the generous of effects, swampy and of feverish Hadesian or Hade's rounds that crippled their districts, they emanated from some Marie Curie junk and vapors radiating this Parapsychological Quantum to them from their own holy final body., for a virtuous and rout of the Ultramundis of Wonthelimar.
Wonthelimar Ultramundi
Kai P. Feb 2010
I think I've procured myself again
The word 'filth' comes to mind
(For lack of a better word)

Yeah, I'm a *****
Unmetalled in the interface
It took yet another 'kind' word
Or should that be 'false' word
To realize what they think of me

To think
With their mangled good looks
Ubiquitous in psyche
Like they ever gave a chocolate-flavoured ****

Soon they'll all have had a go with me
And i'll become
How do you say? Sui generis?
Numb betwixt the thighs

I 'detest' myself
(For lack of a better word)
And I stare at the periwinkle
To find relief

And that's still no relief
Because I'm jealous of periwinkle
The capita thinks it's 'beautiful'
And of course 'I am no periwinkle'
(For lack of a better understatement)

For lack of a better me.
katewinslet Nov 2015
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Mateuš Conrad Jan 2016
sure sure, forgive & forget, but you can't do both in a one-sided simultaneousness: forgive with anger, but forget with peace, for your own sake.

that comic abstract i wrote about children
and mathematics being first learned in units
and not π, π being akin to the word onomatopoeia
in some pandemonium of reverse
of the novel, well, i know 1 is odd, 2 is even,
but when walking and drinking i went a step further:
0 (left leg forward), 1 (right leg forward),
2 (left), 3 (right), 4 (left), 5 (right),
6 (left), 7 (right), 8 (left), 9 (right)...
10 (right left), 11 (right right), 12 (right left)...
it's like that game children play,
they draw a checkers board with chalk,
squares the size of gifted feet missing tango,
schematic looks something like this:
                            1
                   2               3
                            4
                   5               6
                            7
                            8
   ­                9                10
(almost the tree of kabbalah),
so you throw a pebble onto a number
and then do a one legged kangaroo on
1, 4, 7 and 8... but numbers 2 and 3,
5 and 6, 9 and 10 you do the two-legged stomp,
pick the pebble up, and do the reverse as mentioned...
girls loved playing this game when young,
apart from the indoor game of surgeons with
asexual dolls of artificial *** and third party donors,
very horrid that game of dolls,
hide & seek was the boys' invention,
basically anything with running and camouflage
involved, be it shadow, be it anything...
i did skip like a boxer with the skipping ropes,
didn't become a boxer though...
so girls invented the profession of boxing...
behind every tyrant there's a harem of sadists...
i like this feminism they're shoving at us...
i'm one of the last boys to go to university,
it ended circa 2010... now about 60K more *******
fathom the upper tiers of psychology,
education and what not...
mathematics is still a male orientation,
no bullshitting, just: wrong wrong wrong, remainder.
it was an article in the newspaper, what can i do,
censor myself? along with the new elements
discovered, so unstable they live like *******
***** in a petrie dish the length of a male ******:
funky pumpy did all the work, mission impossible
message reads: DISPOSE OF. husband material?
tick. drinker? no no. it's like al capote's time era,
drink the problem... GUNS DON'T **** PEOPLE,
PEOPLE **** PEOPLE. you trying to make me
supermalt or something? all the black kids drank that;
white boys milked the cow from a pint bottle of milk,
ones turned into sprinters... the others turned
into dolphins. that's what i don't get about evolution
attacking theology and undermining itself
from the realm of humanities... you know black
olympic swimmers sink in the pool... clearly
i didn't bleach my skin in arabia going north...
i was a sea monkey! honest to god... the fat in me
makes me float... origins of non-aquatic monkey
sinks in blue water, a dollop of brown...
or that english post-colonial joke about another
member state of the union... you know any good
californian joke about new englanders?
an uninhibited english man (with poor taste in
tailoring) glorifies this fact: per capita,
poland is the only country with each household
having a toilet for each member of the household...
that's why they exported so many polish plumbers
to england!
when i was only but a child and i seemed to have
forgotten being one, when
i got a shock after my ****** hair / beard envy disappeared
and felt no ***** envy, and when i heard being
described as a man... i didn't write any st. paul
*******... so i delved on it...
and remembered my favourite movie from childhood
and the actors i wanted to speak the truth as:
favourite film - le bossu, swash & buckle, cut & ******
adventure starring jean marais (based on a novel
by paul feval)... and of course the three musketeers,
with richard chamberlain and oliver reed...
i so wanted to be the shogun that was chamberlain,
the philandering priest turned musketeer...
lo and behold... i ended up as athos...
not that i mind... but that time period captured
my imagination, as a child of decaying communism
in a satellite state of the soviets... the rule of louis xiv,
and the intrigue of cardinal richelieu...
i wanted to be there! just sniffing up the gun powder!
alas... not to be.
so today i braced myself for no donning an elaborate
hat with peacock feathers and remembering the yore
days of chivalry... walking the grey pavement and grey
houses with a grey sky above... if only the houses
were coloured like the houses of st. petersburg...
if only... and in the hospital after almost breaking
my index finger i did a bit of solo c.b.t. (cognitive
behavioural therapy), i sat in silence, feet not in turkish
or buddhist akimbo but like nailed to a cross,
hands crossed... in this house of pain and legal morphine
addiction, in the orthopedic ward... just sat...
eyes closed... and couldn't conjure any thought...
just nothing... is that a problem for the c.b.t. practices?
i bet it is... what sort of behavioural problems
can arise from not thinking? running a marathon?
driving a car? flying an aeroplane? exponential
flamboyance of memory brought to the fore in an examination?
loads* of examples!
i walked with this somali woman after someone misdirected her
to get to the hospital...
but the gift of all gifts came to seal the day complete
(after not finding lamb kidneys at the supermarket
for a steak and kidney pie)
was next to an islamic learning centre...
three guys ahead on my path, two talking,
one running from one edge width of the pavement
to the other, jumping on something...
he was about to rush back onto the stone
then he stuck his hand out...
his hand warmer than my heart, my hand colder
than his brain yet to be indoctrinated,
he extended it looking me in the eye and i into his,
this little ****** of about 6 or 7 too shy to talk,
his warm hand no bigger than my pinky, ring and middle
finger did a sort of high-five with me...
i guess one of my paediatric theories came true
came the high five.
SE Reimer Feb 2017
~

as she poses
for the boys
her irony is
on display.
the naked truth
not easily deduced,
it’s not just they
that's being seduced.
her looks they’ve bought,
no heart nor touch,
a stage, a pole,
for them disrobed;
“just leave your
money please!”
mum says, “ladies
don't act that way!”

but mum ain't seen
hard times like these;
“com’on mum,
let’s get along...
you gotta know,
its juxtaposition!”


behind bars,
for driving cars;
stolen sweets
were such a treat;
“com’on Judge,
rich guys got
more cars than sense,
what the difference?
if i take just one,
for just a spin,
the only joy
i'll ever ride...
and besides, he
left his keys inside
my valet shack.
those miles and dents,
that i put on, surely
ain't deserving this.
sweet fruit was
hanging far too low
for my resistance.
not my fault, you know;
it’s juxtaposition!”


he sits high atop
a silver tower,
set beside the ocean fair;
existence storied for
he climbed every floor.
they call them shares,
it's what he sells,
but this brand of
sharing ain’t
what his mamma told.
it's a shell game by
a different name;
for it's more his soul
that he has sold.
you could say,
“for a song his soul
sells short sales
down by the seashore.”

or, you could say
just what he says,
“it's juxtaposition!”

~

*post script.

what prompted this?  the city in which i live has the dubious and insidious distinction of having the greatest number of strip clubs per capita in these United States; not exactly something to be proud of.   and yet i realize there are many ways to sell one's soul.

truth doesn't have many sides; if something does, then we can't call it truth; for truth, like gravity can be called many things, but under any name we still fall...
and come up short!  

but then... that's just-my-position!
Antino Art Aug 2017
On rainy days
I look up poems set in Seattle,
then look back at the rain set against the window

I imagine the water was carried here
from the shores of their bay
across Pike Place, through Belltown,
in buckets they use
to carry Pacific salmon off fishing boats,
or in lidded Styrofoam bowls used
to take out clam chowder

I practice walking in this manner, sans umbrella, through the parking lot of a South Florida strip mall.

When I reach the 24-hour Dunkin Donuts, past the laundromat and the check cashing store, I channel my inner Seattleite: poised in wet socks,
unrushed as the sips they take from their mugs when its **** pouring outside

I renounce sugary accoutrements and have what they're having:
Black coffee with a splash of rain,
A balance perfected on their slanted hill streets
that breed more poets per capita
than anywhere else in the country

Vegas can have its mirages in the desert
San Francisco, its gold bridge

I think I should just have this coffee,
and this rainy day
as the poem it is.
Pearson Bolt Aug 2015
FTP
when i say
**** the police
i do not feel obligated
to justify or quantify an
assertion that seems
fundamentally apparent to me
i do not find it necessary
to recount the endless horrors and
psychological terrors visited upon
ordinary men and women
nor do i deem it essential
to my personal ethos of
mutual dignity and
profound respect to
needlessly revere those
behind the badges
and the guns
i just see pigs dressed in blue
prove me wrong

i'm still waiting

when i say
**** the police
there's just one thing
i hope you understand
i do not detest the finger on the trigger
nor the hamfisted hand shoveling
Krispy Kream donuts
into a bottomless gullet
nor the fist clutching the baton
pummeling the peaceful protestor
who gave a riot-geared narc
a bouquet of flowers
nor the thumb emitting mace into
the unsuspecting face of a teenage girl
with a hot-pink mohawk

i do not mean offense when i remark
officer
your mustache reminds me of a walrus or
officer
were you the high school bully or
officer
can you direct me to nearest KKK meeting
please and thanks

so when i say
unequivocally
**** the police
know that it is because i detest
a racist misogynistic homophobic
apparatus of institutionalized oppression
that harasses the marginalized
as it butchers youth of color
and masks the misdeeds of its privileged elite in
a fraternity that utterly disregards morality

when i say
**** the police
it's 'cause i realize that absolute power
corrupts absolutely but the same
could be said for even a modicum
of power that twists and churns
and transforms the best of us into
vicious caricatures of humanity
the fissures of hegemony are exposed

as hierarchy crumbles we find inside us
the power to extol truth
even when it's unpopular

and say
**** the police
'cause they're too lazy to use
their words when the State gives
them a gun and
a license to ****
all charges will drop
because the only police who police
the police are the police

when i say
**** the police
it's because the State uses fear
to control its subjects
in hopes we won't realize
we don't need them
they keep us scared of one another
of the demons hiding in the dark
focus our terror on the monsters
lurking underneath our beds rather
than the Feds driving down I4 with
firearms strapped to their hips

when i say
**** the police
it's because it has not
escaped my notice
that the U.S. has the largest
prison population per capita of
any nation in the world due
to draconian laws governing
the use and abuse of substances
and i may be straight edge but
i'll be the first to point out
that the State's manufacturing new slaves
with its arbitrary arrests over ***

so i say
**** the police
because i remember
my brothers and sisters
who swine stole from this Earth
though i wager i'd never meet them
i'm certain their so-called criminal behavior
certainly did not merit an execution

and contrary to popular belief
black lives matter
so pull your head out of the sand
with that
all lives matter
hog-wash and open your ears for just a second

brother Michael Brown shot
down in Ferguson for walking
along the middle of the street

Eric Garner
strangled by a narc
accused of selling loose
cigarettes after dark

Sandra Bland failed to use her turn
signal and we discovered her later
hanging from a rope
like Roxanne Gay said
even if she killed herself
white hands are still locked around her throat

Trayvon Martin dared to wear a hoodie
and trespass in an affluent community
for failing to return to the ghetto
a vigilante **** sent him to the morgue

twelve-year-old Tamir Rice
played cops-n-robbers in his lawn  
no one stopped to tell him
its the boys-n-blue
who're robbing young kids of their lives
with bullets packed tight in their 9's

over 860 men women and children
killed by thugs draped in red white and blue
in these first 9 months of 2015 alone

so when i say
**** the police
i say so out of a sincere conviction
that there will be no peace until we get
some ******* justice
and i know the State Department's supplying
our masters with leftover gear from its
exorbitant multi-trillion dollar wars
M-16s tear gas flashbangs,
body armor HumVees tanks
rubber bullets surveillance kits and small arms
to suppress dissent and smash
lawful assembly with violence
but when they order us to cease and disperse
or suffer arrest
we'll have three words poised on our lips
**** the police
For all those whose lives have been interrupted—or terminated—by State-sponsored terror. Rest In Power.
Pearson Bolt Sep 2015
did you know
if you earn $34k a year or more
you're in the top 1% of all the world

if that's the joke then
where's the punch-line
did i miss it somewhere
in the attempt to justify
political suicide

how could that appease
those of us groveling on our knees
living hand-to-mouth
from paycheck to paycheck
as the world's 80 richest billionaires
who control 50% of the world's wealth
do whatever they **** well please

by all means
fact check me if you don't trust my
ridiculously overpriced master's degree
in literary cultural and textual studies
because let's face it
we've all heard the jokes
an English diploma means jack-****
in this morally bankrupt economy
where literacy is literally repressed as a
way of keeping the downtrodden oppressed

a healthy discussion where we ask
critical questions is the natural synthesis
of any democratic debate and
challenging each other is a stellar
way to cultivate the intellectually irate but
let's not divide and instigate after all
unnecessary altercations over
trivial factoids only distract
us from the realists' explanation

we are ******
the world is burning all around us
200 species perish every single day
as we exorcise fossil fuels
and melt the polar ice caps
pumping oil into gas-guzzling SUVs
and CO2 into the air we share as

we poison the wellsprings of hope
with idiosyncratic politicians
who force idiotic semantics
down our throats until
we choke and splutter and mutter
beneath our breath about
how things used to be and how
we'd be happier if we just followed
passively like gentle sheep adhering to
the edicts and decrees of the
corporocratic oligarchy

see
i'm not standing here defaming
or complaining on the contrary
i'm stalwart in proclaiming that
if we don't pause to consider
the way we're fanning
the flames razing this
planet we will no longer
have a globe to call our home

with all due respect
there's no chance in hell
that i'll just sit back and laugh
while the Empire grows and
consumes life liberty and happiness

gorging itself on the apathy of
the well-adjusted privileged white kids
who don't blink twice at the
homeless transgender teenager
hiding out on the stoop of a
fair-trade coffee house to avoid
the Florida rain or the corpse
of a drowned emaciated Syrian toddler
buried face-down in the sand
or the arrest of Sandra Bland for
failing to use a
turn signal or put
out her cigarette
tell me how such
a mundane gesture of
defiance could warrant
the admonishment that
tied a noose around her neck

the 1% is not a people group
it is an idea nurtured at the behest
of capitalist demagogues
that inundate our culture with
fantasies of American exceptionalism
let's face it the only thing exceptional
about this lackluster nation
is the fact that we have the world's
largest prison population per capita
due in no small part
to vindictive laws that target
the poor and clap them in chains

it isn't Us vs. Them
that is the nefarious toxin that
brainwashes and destroys
community and philanthropy
if we would truly call ourselves
lovers of humanity than we must
muster the humility to admit that
we all have certain degrees
of light and dark
each of us on a spectrum
oscillating in stark contrast

it is We the People vs. the State
that three-tiered hydra that
guards the estates of the elite
and leaves others starving out
in the streets
a system predicated on
setting the classes against themselves
a self-perpetuating leviathan
looming god-like overhead
nurtured by the treatises of
outdated 18th century philosophers

the social contract is a lie
i didn't sign my life away
on some dotted line
so that my freedom and
independence could be usurped
by the stupendous guise of
capitalism masquerading as
the harbinger of harmony

we're not demanding economic
equality but fiscal equity
a concept that each man
and woman and child can
live and love in
comfort and in health and
worry not for the future
generations because a system
of slavery no longer exists
to inundate their lives
with shallow labor
'till they perish

if we sit idly and watch our
culture continue to chortle and
spiral into the idolatry of political celebrity
we may forget that the people
have the capacity to
reclaim our stolen dignity
hoarded by the specter of power

Foucault once wrote that dominance
cultivates resistance and i am the
expression of that latter people's movement
one aspect of an anthemic chorus
singing in unilateral unison as
the glass castles of the State come crashing down

equal to each and every sister
brother to seven billion
rebel with a cause
now
tell me
will you join
your voice with ours
'cause trust me we need
all the help that we can get
I write a lot of political poems. This is one of 'em. The other night at an open mic, a comedian—trying to be clever, I presume—pointed out that if you make $34k a year or more, you earn more money than 99% of the world. This is my response.
Claire Waters Dec 2016
I doubt your mother’s ever told you.
The alternative to sanity is losing your mind.

When someone you love is gone they are replaced by an ocean of memories.

Your mind is a swimming pool and you’re just a bug, moving rhythmically, fending off the crushing weight,

and then one day you get so cold you stiffen like a corkscrew and sink like a stone,

driving your screaming body into the concrete.

And when they finally find the bodies of lost divers in the caves beneath our world, they are curled in fetal position, burrowed into the smallest crack they can find in the stalagmites of the cold walls,

hands and feet destroyed from ripping at the rock with blind death instincts,
grappling for a tiny passage back to the light.

Everybody wants to be a model
So her outsides fit how she’s dying on the inside
Everybody wants to be roadkill
Pegged up for examination but mostly for display
I guess it doesn’t matter how the victim felt
It doesn’t matter how wet leaves slipping from under feet feels
It doesn’t matter how cold it is
It doesn’t matter how another cigarette tastes
It doesn’t matter how his eyes looked when he walked past
It doesn’t matter how a cold gun feels
You can’t feel a gun, technically
Is anyone out there? Can you help?
Does your brain
Hesitate too long almost all the time?
Do you need to breathe through your mouth just to keep going when your nose can’t work? Do you feel dizzy? These are deep places with no air, in the future. You need to be able to breath with utmost control
And take up the least amount per capita in your lungs possible
By prepping your lungs for the atmosphere
Of the mask world you are not dying,
They hum in every bright viscous corner
Of Hollywood Blvd and time square
You are not dying
You are winning
And you angle down just to show everyone you can make the illusion of beauty appear sick
I focus on the version of me I see in my mind every time I forget to feel better. You want to be me, I am sick. I want to be better, I forget you. I want to breathe with my lungs again
Daivik May 2021
It flashed on the television screen
The death toll rising
It was just another stat for me
Just an inanimate number
General Knowledge
Before that day

Before that day
It was just a boring news piece
Repeated all the time
Shouting matches on television
No on cared bout the dead
Just numbers to them
To me

Some days less some days more
A minister said deaths per capita were less
Tell that to the widow
Percentages and line graphs and histograms
And vultures and hyenas for trps
So dry no emotion
Before that day

Anchors and politicians
Calculating and comparing
Different countries and classes
By deaths and cases
Like stock market
Humans in flesh and blood
Like shares and indices

These lives these smiles
What destiny held for them
Who knows
Gone away in the icu
To just become another statistic
Another pawn for politicians to fight about

Thousands and thousands of people
Becoming numbers
Meant to be forgotten in days

The magnitude made me numb
I didn't care
It wasn't me
Wasn't my family
It didn't affect me
To me it was a
Just a never ending vacation

Rates of poverty and unemployment
Didn't matter to me as a child
Misery and anguish of people
Millions and millions of people
Just a figure to be momentarily saddened by

While I cursed at the zoom meeting screen
Someone's mother and father passed away gasping for oxygen
Leaving a newborn orphan
And while I ate the same bland food
Someone died walking miles towards his home

Before that day
It didn't matter
It wasn't me
Wasn't my family
Till it was

It's painful
A person becoming a statistic
Just to make it sure
Me and my family are safe
Yeah I took a line from a cranberries song hope you can find
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2015
in english homes the buddha head is replaced by the christmas tree,
but i still prefer the existence of actual angels less popular than gabriel
with his koran, michael with his sword satan with his lie...
than compare men to angels or men to devils
rather than ensuring man remains a man
without comparison a godly comparison
which man discarded as easily weighed on the libra:
knowlesdge of atoms equal weight to the weight of limbs without torso de facto:
you just know there’s a celestial celebrity culture...
that might have survived if it survived on earth
with the span of a century executed as complete...
but since it didn’t... it seemed the lesser of the two reliefs:
one sided the one aim of attainment advertised
the un-attainable was preached by the priests of the ku ku klux clan...
and the latter half was preached by the brigade of social security
forces and other familiars / leeches and the fate of stipends...
capitalism outgrows itself in the realm it’s concerned with,
communism outgrows itself in the realm it’s not concerned with...
capitalism needs export... communism need import...
when a poet mentions money does he become an amateur poet
or a non-existent non-poet? i guess the latter...
given people could defend things that could have remained stones,
or given people could defend things that would have remained
grains of sand...
or that given people could have defended the shadows of
nodding branches of ******' breath dangling off them,
but given the people... not one iota made it into the alphabet
correcting... people spoke and that was the end of the meow...
the end that impregnated the woof...
once money was mentioned in a concerning way
the barbarian tribes merged into a society and societies
merged into capitals with ego per capita...
there was defence... of course... people defended their right...
but the sought nations among the barbaric multi-cultured
hegemonies that became quickly exhausted
learning to tailor many pockets into a one set of jeans:
the kenyan pocket, the slavic pocket, the caribbean pocket,
the irish pocket... but still one pair of english jeans;
the one pair of english jeans worn by a welshman...
the dragon versed lodging in a flag better with st. george moving...
all eyes to the united states, the prime-ministers of england said...
all eyes on the two-thirds of the fifty stars... three eyes on the stripes...
all sanity of language only claimed by the bestseller fiction rubric
none for philosophy, none for poetry... as long as there’s
a clear pronoun vector that narrates... we will have no other
methodology of acumen, other than the acumen of & in
a sequencing logic of one mistake made required
for the perfection of the much desired salivation for the pavlov
into a tango of a lost leg and subsequent limp encored by the crowd
of the proud primates leaving the hydrologic cycle
for the haemologic cycle of war among ourselves:
votes on the badger cull to save the hedgehogs!
260 aye, 201 naye. well, nevermind the redcoats
hunting the ginger furrballs.
Thompson George Feb 2014
I

When the world freezes over,
The soft glow of the computer screens will leak against a sky-black universe
When everything goes on without us,
Stop-lights and streetlamps will light the way
For all the people who don’t look there
The beast in the pit
When the stores will always be empty,
Vegas will ****** no one with her lights,
A blinding light

II

Green-glow and blue-shine will cry out
From their boxes in vain, to
The glowing black-blue swirl of
Cosmic magnificence!
Humanity’s ancient projections will whimper and beg
The interstellar paradise ingentis so unexplored
For desperate affection and faces,
        drooling.

III

When the bottom falls off…
When the bell tolls for thee…
When the plug comes out from the wall….
You will not look,
You will stare.
Eyelids - hanging like abandoned bridges
Skin - blue with the afterglow still clinging to what it caught.
Sweating through your bottom
Until you expire, and – then, we will cower away from the great
For thine…

IV

et misurent pulverem super capita sua et clamaverant flentes et lugantes dicentes vae vae civitas magna in qua divites facti sunt omnes qui habent naves in mari de pretiis eius quoniam una hora desolata est

User error… user error… user error… user error… user error…
From the dark side of the occipital ... galloping come my kind and jubilant comrades, they have been jumping and cutting the atmospheres of physical reality, after cooking my belly and my heart from stubborn wounds of unstoppable wars scary wounded slices.
Very close and dry from the dark side 3 and a half turns comes the cataract wart to the iniquity of its juice over the millions of Centilenials Writing Experiences.

On the white side of the occipital, 3 network crosses intersect with Playright Playwright, towards the hurried signs of the Writer beyond its spectrum. The soberest fear stained with bravery prosapia comes out.

 Metaphysical transfer, a capricious platform of insomniac spirit, walks 300 centuries with its feet dolled up and accommodating its semi-inclined crown sharp on its chipped shoulder of melted marble of Carrara ruin.

Preliminary Empty Transfer

Algorithm Cm, has been debating the hills like the chin of ***** maidens kneeling their outrageous non-eager emotions, neither brief as the fear frightened of releasing the beautiful vibra of the occipital color of the brave piano breaking the 300 imaginary ears of the emotion algorithm without piano of inharmonic skeptic cadaverous.

2nd transfer Preliminary Vacuum

Etrestles looks back at the Altamira wart caryatid cataract ... sees a serpentine hummingbird imbued with its sclera and grazes its feathers and the feathers ...

Later he leans to his ghostly cauliflower spectrum and returns to cross this threshold again, holding feathers in his hands saying: Since 300 centuries I have been navigating the aerial CO2 aerial ditches of the filthy world and now my brother Calamorous cauliflower prosaic ship in front of my eyes telling me If I had a brother like you, I would say come with me to cut wounded airs that I have to slice only in you lodged in the Cm Algorithm of the imagination, dietary anemia udder Holy atmosphere of the archbishop of Calixto and Calipsian blood.
When breaking the chalky limestone capita of its dimension, we will visit in this World Messiah Cauliflower. Brother of Picaflor, nodding his role Saveforest and Savespirit fraternal degeneration SOS.

3rd transverse transfer No Vacuum.
The mischievous eyes of cauliflower flying have to compensate for the world of the Cerebellum that betrays us,
That we have to be preset of spring countryside Tina Moldy.
Holy water in the jaws of ******* incense almost acunpunturial.
 
About living and surviving, of revenge and revenge ...
From Jutland the sour jerjel that shook the great extreme acro of the heraldic court for gathering thousands of restless spirits vitrineating with their hands as gamers, alpha play stationed of the severed but Sane Stoic Hamlet.

to be Continued
under to be a building experimental poetry.
The U.S. has more
Billionaires per capita
Than anywhere else
Plus more millionaires as well
And I ask, at what a cost?
Tanka
StaticNSage Dec 2016
Really tried to run the hardest, like some kind of poor mans Sean Carter,
Until I took a look
Out of body, like a shadow
Stood beside it
Was unwise
That thinking is less savage and all the time more similar to garbage
It's all lies
Some grow but never harvest, humble is best saved or put aside for the modest
More likely, the world will turn you out
I will throw shade like a forest too deep for the garden
Grass fed conundrums fed with a water spout
Like the world was placed below the stars because it's easier to take it
And I am flush with fresh thought, but I am not worth the capita
Haven't lived long enough to make it
I've survived the epic tales of shear wonder, how's a man born of below average beginnings gonna enjoy peaceful slumber?
Sleep belies dying
Or least lays under cover when dreams are the closest relative of success you've ever heard of
You partake to doze numb
Like three fingers and an ambien, that's mine
What's you're sleep number?
(alternately titled: idolizing childhood's end
today April 25th, 2021
generates elusive warm treasured memories).

Akin to significance my eldest sister
felt toward her “*******” –
(totally tubular fuzzy bendable contrivances
analogous to an outsize pipe cleaner)
until she became a tweener
my Matty Mattel Doll (circa mid 1960's)
meant the webbed wide world  
with promise of much greener pastures
on the Apollo space age horizon
where virtual Oculus virtual reality dwelt
amongst Carib ****** indigenous tribes.

No matter yours truly then
fast approaching his decade number seven  
of twentieth century tantalizing
figurative future promises held sway
(namely technologically
Luddite intimations spawned),
I zealously, fervently,
and desperately clung
to battered Matty Mattel doll.

Any child with creative artistic bents
(including this scribe),
whose innate sensibilities and cents
severely limited me drawing
stick figures, more so dense
macabre satisfactorily applying
beard or mustache as stylish elements
applying magic marker to picture printed
faces forged into fences
of famous people popular
within culture club, both gents
or gals, whose retouched photographs
beggared ****** pents
sieve looming hair of men and women,
while simultaneously rents
sing preoccupied to access
excel lent glue, which caricatured outlook
devoid of common sense
I held said goofy looking doll
appeared contrived of household padding material,
and short scraps from circus tents
of yarn for do whit yourself based artisans
into trash bin of history project went.

Even than orange ranked as the new black
charming plaything sophistication did lack
plus batteries not required
to hear voice activated track.

This (think) abhor ridge gin null snippets
red + yellow colored strands
atop kepi twas pseudo hair,
sans manufactured eunuchs
adorned head lands
with avast capita lone linkedin
fingerhut dishabille curls,
could easily construct trolling grandstands
a similar facsimile re: globular molded,
incorporated, glommed,
fragile Ostrich egg shape
contrived head (vis a vis Plaster of Paris
overcovering NON GMO gluten free
partially hydrogenated brands
inflated balloon) to affect trademark
globular fuzzy noggin dry as Acklands.

The simple plain plaything included
a fitbit lifesaver size plastic ring
said small circular loop perfect “O”pening
to get jammed below first knuckle the King
Kong of index finger affixed to a short string
(when pulled to extent tub buckle did bring
taut tether) activated
moon face fixed bug eyed ping
pong blank stare to utter garbled syllables
asper one who nipped viz suckle something.

Despite the drabness, homeliness,
lacquered painted trapped
xyst Yarmulke cheap flatness,
I loved ragged slapped
around, and still iconic schlepped treasure
(uber voiceless with rapt
zealous application bridging elementary
functioning gizmo), initiating mapped
jabbering lock lipped absolute zero prattling.

Sometimes well worn action hero lapped
exhilaration, (got tossed in the air, booted
as football, succor silently accepted flapped
sear sucker punches from robed buck
after favorite fictitious "brother" chapped
accompanied my scrawny body
at bath time) to adapt.

Nonetheless, this adored
billed idol kept me secure,
especially on rare occasions
that found this contemplative lad, a lore
ring dutiful, fun loving kid
under the weather, or hospitalized for
minor adenoids removal,
which entailed post surgical recovery
swallowing quite a chore.

Oh yes, this non gendered plaything
nondescript featureless
sewn seams showed zero differentiation,
no matter to tell this August, cherished, fondled
kiddie piece de resistance lacked ****** identity.

Absent reproductive organs
(eh, nada so significant omission)
cuz, this seemingly resistant
quirky plaything, who unfairly re
ceived punishing physical
indiscriminate treatment, yet still
connection omnipotent bond existed
as if goofy guise happened
to be extended part of mine kempf.

Upon reflection, asper
childhood memento (nary a clue
what triggered remembrance
of things past yesterday comprised
true value), an aha moment awoke
to attempt to cap cha vague
essence about pretend friend designed in 1955,
and based on a concept by Mattel co-founder
Elliot Handler.

The character “Matty”
derived from the name Mattel.

The nom de plume a concatenation of sorts
derived after founders,
Harold Mattson and Elliot Handler.

A brainstorm session
yielded concurrence viz the hybrid name
of Matt + El (short for Elliot).
☹ ☹ ☹ ☹ ☹ ☹ ☹ ☹ ☹ ☹ ☹ ☹ ☹
✔ There's a secret videotape of C.F.R.'s monkey Tom Clancy beggin'
✔ in vain to the Control Group that vaccinates a senile Nancy Reagan
✔ for his life to be spared as before God would whine an antsy pagan
✔Le Nègre Prix de Triomphe goes to Heidi Klum's seal-hung lancer
✔whose skin's a mucopussy mess from discoid lupus not lung cancer
✔as his soul was skinned nights dodging **** as a black-dung dancer
✔trapping weasels while boiling weevils ain't the Ivory Coast answer
☹Tex & Rita (to Memorex): Die you schizogenetic offering by dawn
☹in the dirt-bag opting of a love stymied beneath an undeterred lawn
☹in starving memory to Dutch: a ray-gun-loving Reagan called Ron,
☹that war-dodging acquaintance of stage-dead mummer **** Shawn
☹whose crap-out was viewed by attending audience as a planned con
☹but alas the gray ******* was, medico-legally, dead and gone
☹To negrita ****** & Albanian trulls & stenographers he's just John
✔The ease in which legs are compressed & unfolded at the cat house
✔ makes me hearken for unstuck Tuesdays at ye olde Erin cork house
✔ where fish are skinned like brave men tried in a federal court house
✔ while uncracked minds get cracked up at a ******-town crack house
✔ 'Cause of whitey I'm kidney-listed 7 million _sans_ country club clout
✔ I'm bony, **** & looking for a compatible liver-donor to break out
✔ of this low-immunity strata before there is a liver-disease outbreak
✔ as the runny dog-**** of ******* dogs ******* near me starts to cake
☹ so as to out-stink a South Korean who's really a North Korean fake
☹ The federal government is eugenical: to it we must own up sheeple,
☹ thus maturing emotively into a sovereign, logical, grown-up people
☹ for it stands that the melding of nanny state & citizenry is umbilical
☹ & in confliction with by-gone eras as our illogic's queerly quizzical
☹ because it pits humanoid knowledge against the quasi-metaphysical
☹ that foments hatefulness toward each appointed government radical
☹ who queerly degenerates into deviances paraphrenical and fanatical
☹ whereas whip-lash's suit-seeking, soft-tissue damage that's cervical
✔ requiring an obligatorily-worn orthopedic brace for 2 years farcical
✔ to render pro-rated, per capita lifetime-loss-of-earnings stats logical
✔ for in America breaking a sweat to earn bread has become heretical
✔ as ditzes respire hot air into bean-counting jobs designated clerical,
✔ Occidental monasticism's monasterial intrigue remains monastical
✔ overseas whereat cartographically-globular frontiers chart spherical
☹ Shrill moans of belabored Mexicalis triggers a Marxian mechanism
☹ that deflects absent divers toward proto-Brazilian-styled lesbianism
☹ which remains less evil than Theodore & Franklin D. Rooseveltism
✔ times 13 million ******* blackening white love for nig criminalism
☹ in camps of cramped campers craving crammed communitarianism
☹ Let us bathe in the spittle of homosexuals before we roll over to die
☹ as deviance's eternal, trumping the realm of  The Catcher in the Rye
☹ 'cause my ***** afro reflects nig force to punish whites before I die
☹ as a lard-***, ghetto-happy 'fro bro who digested the E.B.T. food lie
✔ while the Siamese outed glorious Teresa Teng as a Kuomintang spy
✔ No ****** wins awards for the glory of being an award-winning ***
✔ as no strip-mining strip miner burns U.M.W. cards for heaps o' ****
✔ while bagmen trade for what's behind door 2 for what's in their bag
✔ because kids trained in knife-attack'll stab in a childish game of tag
✔ to snub ****** daylight saving time with its pain-in-the-*** time-lag
✔ that denies maiden beauties their beauty sleep long before they hag
✔ & battery-operated boyfriends to prisoners gagged by jailhouse gag
✔ or mothers in the last raggedy stages of monthly ragging on the rag
☹ Back against the wall & indebted to the last lucky 7 vinegar strokes
☹ see no point to cajole unlaid, lay-about chicks for the routine coax
☹ No Christian shall deny an unborn baby's supreme court right to die
☹ 'cause the German zeppelin LZ 129 Hindenburg was too light to fly
✔ There's a secret videotape of C.F.R.'s monkey Tom Clancy beggin'
✔ in vain to the Control Group that vaccinates a senile Nancy Reagan
✔ for his life to be spared as before God would whine an antsy pagan
☹ “I'll tolerate no remark **** Lana Kramer!” Farted the proctologist,
☹ after Marlon Brando snuffed Odnarb Nolram, a Tahitian acarologist
*☹ who toyed in the nefarious world of gynecology like a gynecologist
My historical perspective is nonexistent. There's no such thing as a little federalization. Fewer policemen were murdered (per capita) in 2015 than in 1882. Coal miners die in much higher numbers than cops. My organizational skills prioritize self-congratulatory award ceremonies and executive-pay positions. Poor people are window-dressing to me & mother. The death of Teresa Teng has not been properly investigated. Exhume her to run toxicological tests. The shape of Earth is inconsequential to me. It's the masonic dogma (that's taught as irrefutable, mathematically-verified fact) as to the mind-numbing velocities of heavenly bodies that I question.
labyrinth Dec 2020
Sixty-four thousand eight hundred US Dollars
Is the GDP per capita in the strongest country
A fair distribution among white and blue collars
Still attracts neither government, nor gentry
My historical perspective is nonexistent. There's no such thing as a little federalization. Fewer policemen were murdered (per capita) in 2015 than in 1882. Coal miners die in much higher numbers than cops.
Tom Shields Aug 2020
Every word in your poem must have meaning
the first eight don't, write that way, I don't even live that way, find the purpose in these words, it's scattered with red herrings and recallings of the past, hallmarks and cornerstones, what has and hasn't mattered, madness and hat tricks three times over the top of a shivering rock, quivering locks that hold the mad hattered, sick from the work, their hands all blood splattered, if everything is worth everything then there's no value, it's all filtered and strong, there's only honesty and no stakes, everything is true, the purpose is to discern what has worth and what's worthless, I open my back into a blood eagle/writing desk and translate pulsating raw organs into words for you

Nobody save me, I am in love with what I do

You could easily break my heart, I have a toychest, I pull out verbal audacity to the extent the social responsibility of an author is distant in my mind from what I am, I disavow myself from your ranks so I can give my conscience some REM rest, a mile a minute thoughts all day, benadryl, painkillers, migraine, anxiety a trough for a bi-daily feeding of every pill, I'd be a ricochet away from glass shards showing in my die hard deck of troubled cards, well meaning I'd fall to pieces I've let go over panes it's been nice knowing, the way I treat observations is dastardly, this maladjusted, malcontent, I am an August Breeze because I was a blow hard reject, I don't put respect or take it, I give it and I'll never cross the hard times or same lines this revolution like protests on a boulevard after Malcolm X

Get killed in the streets and people like me watch on the news, horrified
that's *******

I said you could easily break my heart, I've got a toychest, I get plenty of rapid eye movement without any proper rest, I sleep for hours like pennies on the dollar, steep cost but hollow, because I'm exhausted and depressed, I don't have even half a mind for politics, I can't carry a conversation, I'm no champion for the popular opinion, I won't vote in this system, I'm another timeline's anachronism, they say keep your words soft and sweet in case you have to eat them, I say break my jaw backwards and force feed them, open me up to the despair of shattered illusions in this bubble of elitism, I'm over and done, give me defeat, I have action figuratives you can play with until we're all worn out and beat, but this carousel spirals until the whole fair is a circus, along for the ride like Bonnie and Clyde, bullet riddles, not too common some might think, like the Sphinx would bother to curse us

I love you, whoever you are, unconditionally,
because I believe there's peace in that
but I'll fight you to defend that peace if you threaten it

Gender, off by the spring in my notebook I would look, I used to be a lonely kid, I was embarrassed about my body by everything I did, I learned I was supposed to like girls and I never challenged doing what I was told, but casting a glance their way was inviting someone to frostbite my head off while I was trying to keep it down, it got cold, I was a preteen and I felt already twenty-odd years old, I had bought into this portrait of normalcy so much so that I'd been sold, that I'd taken up a paintbrush and put a little fleck of pink blush, to include myself and I welcomed opportunity to destroy my trust, I don't actually care about ***, I loved once, but another warm body isn't what my heart wants, I wouldn't even reproduce by mitosis if I could, not even to declare to the approval of my family and peers a legacy of carnal pleasure, I've been told to go **** myself plenty of times before, why make it about offspring as if I would, no, it has been more than seven years since I felt intimate lust for another person, I don't want to feel that way again even if I should, I have struggled to be content in the label of asexual, even though I can wave a flag to say I don't give a **** and I'd be wrong not to say it feels good

Education traps you in a cycle of economic pressure
squeezing and pushing, draining a person
they become titles and jobs and numbers, lesser and lesser
while their checks hit like save points and you try to focus on that
motivation avoid debt-incurred devastation,
pay it back in backpatting, treated libation
insinuation, improved situation, human batteries
renewed and recycled, capitalism in a state of fluctuation
tuition only in, but never out, competition
hotter degrees, more possibilities, affordable and available at a better institution
depending on your life, you start off at odds or in favor, and that is *******

So, traffic stop, killer cops, commercial backers from corporate hacks, change ad hoc, stuck inside buying and selling stock in slacks, real difference and all talk, allies and all lies, followers and leaders alike, subscribers, likers, listeners lack, christeners in the tide of war and order, ignored poor fodder, a fiery passion can't be extinguished by water, reality in a world so fake it needs to be shook awake sorely lacks, Uncle Sam doesn't want you to enlist, he wants you on a list, but America speaks for itself

The state of things is bad for your mental health
and you can't even book an appointment that you can't afford right now
it's virtually impossible to get help,
unplug the simulation
everything is so much worse outside, put me back under
release a sweet sedative/dopamine injection,
tune out everything bad and just think about what awaits in the wings of production
quarantine will end, markets will open like Christmas morning
and your gains then are your own greedy projection
to quell the rising outrage in this outrageous population
quiet them by letting them scream until they wear themselves out and fall asleep
then turn down the negative attention,
tease the brakes, before the silent minority wakes
more people per capita means nothing to capital capitol, that's ******* *******.
write
please read and enjoy

— The End —