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"capitalistic" poems
Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected]) It is the 30th day of the months in Kenya State and corporate capitalist have now paid their workers Wages or salaries or stipends or emoluments all being remunerations While the rural bourgeoisie and urban bourgeoisie have also paid ex-gratia To relatives come over-aged workers who have declined retiring For the fear of looming starvation if at all they go home, where they were born, Nonetheless; proceed they receive will do nothing whatsoever As it will be stifled by the monster of desperate consumerism; So fat and gullible in this tiger of land in the region called Kenya; The terror peddling rent, courtesy of ruthlessness of the landlord Bills of electric power in their full monopolistic gear Bills of water devoid of quality, indifferent dysentery monger Wages for maid who keep on usurping the food of my child; milk Bills for gas, all of it redolent of comprador bourgeoisie in fashion, Hotel and bar bill - a surreptious one, as the bar girl only knows Airtime and renewal, TV channels and other screen capitalistic ploys Family trip to local resort in a feat of foolish consumerist venture, Money to the old mother at home and, sometimes depraved but patient father ARV’s money to my *** aids stricken sister at the village, my aunt also Tuition fees for my son at the kindergarten, who goes to schools but learns nothing fees balance which my wife has to pay at the tailor to ransom out her dress, M-Pesa and M-Swari loan repayment, this only for Kenyan 30th dayers They know the agony of dealing with Kenyan mega-capitalist safaricom ltd. This consumerism and **** consumerism, It is the menacing bane of the Kenyan poor It is the avaricious tube which siphons back The hard earned money from pockets of the poor Back to despotic account of the pitiless world pigshotry.
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Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 9:35 AM UTC
END MONTHS CONSUMERISM
Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected]) It is the 30th day of the months in Kenya State and corporate capitalist have now paid their workers Wages or salaries or stipends or emoluments all being remunerations While the rural bourgeoisie and urban bourgeoisie have also paid ex-gratia To relatives come over-aged workers who have declined retiring For the fear of looming starvation if at all they go home, where they were born, Nonetheless; proceed they receive will do nothing whatsoever As it will be stifled by the monster of desperate consumerism; So fat and gullible in this tiger of land in the region called Kenya; The terror peddling rent, courtesy of ruthlessness of the landlord Bills of electric power in their full monopolistic gear Bills of water devoid of quality, indifferent dysentery monger Wages for maid who keep on usurping the food of my child; milk Bills for gas, all of it redolent of comprador bourgeoisie in fashion, Hotel and bar bill - a surreptious one, as the bar girl only knows Airtime and renewal, TV channels and other screen capitalistic ploys Family trip to local resort in a feat of foolish consumerist venture, Money to the old mother at home and, sometimes depraved but patient father ARV’s money to my *** aids stricken sister at the village, my aunt also Tuition fees for my son at the kindergarten, who goes to schools but learns nothing fees balance which my wife has to pay at the tailor to ransom out her dress, M-Pesa and M-Swari loan repayment, this only for Kenyan 30th dayers They know the agony of dealing with Kenyan mega-capitalist safaricom ltd. This consumerism and **** consumerism, It is the menacing bane of the Kenyan poor It is the avaricious tube which siphons back The hard earned money from pockets of the poor Back to despotic account of the pitiless world pigshotry.
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30
Blue skies and apple pies Football games and guns to aim 40 hours of work and fireworks Heteronormativity and conformity White tranquility in the midst of police brutality White terrorism claiming nationalism What is the American Dream? Shutdowns and cages and riches for ages Fascism raises from hateful rampages Families taken away from their own These are a few of Trump's favorite things. What is the American dream? A flag always at half-mast In preparation for the next mass shooting Killing the poor with a minimum wage That can't even afford rent Mocking the people we stole this land from. America the land of the free Construct of the patriarchy Thousands of dollars in medical bills Treating our oceans like landfills. Oh say can you see by the dawn's early light A country so broken the end is in sight. Capitalistic ideals that possess the rich Destroying the poor as we're thrown in a ditch Together we must rise above And show Trump's cult what we're made of.
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Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 10:02 PM UTC
The American Dream
What has become of us Amidst the hustle and bustle of city life When did evolution condone us to regress into a state Of uncalculated caucus As we meander our way through the rapids of life Rapid Is hardly a best-fit descriptor For we are past the point of speed We mill around like headless horses Buzzing bees Stinging roaches Fallen leaves Roaring lions Try to lead But fail Like cottons fighting breeze Is this all we are? Is this what we were made for? To quickly climb the climb And await the graceless fall Parachutes prepared for praise But our pride prevents and prevails Till the day I climb the ladder Shall I not attempt to see What the view at the top might be like I fear it enthralls me But then reality strikes like a maddening blaze And suddenly I see That I'm well on my way up the hill As I swing from bridge to bridge Is this the way to live? Uncautious steps with kleptomaniac ease As we take what we desire From our capitalistic divider Though we hate to be the same Not at all do we differ Are we not all blinded mice With a tetra-human vice Spiders apt at spinning lies Banking life on Friday highs All around me boring beasts Lost to whims, to say the least What I fear most is the day I give in and join the race Is the day I eat my heart out Just to enjoy the highest gaze Till then here trapped in the zoo Enclosure encasing truth Finding fault with every human till the day I conform too
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Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 8:12 AM UTC
Speed
People people                          they go around like pigs                          showcasing their fancy suits                          proclamating the biggest trend Jewelry, then food, then them big fast automobiles Those are the priorities by order Getting greedy Getting fat Gettin' Gettin' GETTIN'                                                                   In a monstruous ball of meat!                                  With a monstruous will of plastic!                                  Monstruously stupid!                                               Monstruous,                                               monstruous... I'm gettin' tired But I'm afraid, They are just getting started.
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Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 12:14 PM UTC
Capitalistic will of fools
How much is a soldier’s tears worth Ten yards for a dead heart A thousand dollar pay day For a lost leg College dreams For nightmares and PTSD screams A lost eyes For capitalistic smoke stacked sky One hundred down For a million in profit A billions to come And all that is cost us Was our humanity The movies make it seem noble While keeping the guts, the gore, And the human horror Down to the minimum But for all the men And women We lose over and again And again and again Till the horrors without Shade the horrors within And even those Friends who make it back With unblemished skin Never really come back again How much do you think it’s worth
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Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 3:50 PM UTC
How Much Is It Worth
I'm  a bit like Brett I like my beer,  Senator Feinstein, Ha. Your name has stein in it, thats  like a beer mug, i dont have blackouts from beer drinking. It's the lack of that makes me forget. I don't remember much of this morning. Went to work got some **** done, I Don't think I molested any women, But it's all foggy. I remember going into DG after work. They got 15 packs for 6.95. Cept I vaguely recall creeping out. They were Out. Until i found three of them white boxes with red and blue lettering an A With wings insignia I'd  tucked in A corner of the store behind cases of Heinekens, out of my league drink, For just this situation. ******* patriotic Almost. I think it's doing my part to support this free-market capitalistic Economy. Like paying taxes. Better than voting. So you all can impune Kavanaughs Character all you want. I like beer so do he. So. Back to me. I couldn't wait for one. I'd put six in the freezer. And it had been ten minutes. I drank it lukewarm. And my memory came back. The fog cleared. Oh yeah, his problem Isn't that he loves beer Like I  do, it's that he was a punk upper class white dude who Pushed around young girls, laughed while he felt them up, Thought he was entitled to. That's over the line, even for Republicans. You are not like my justice. I am a justice of peace and integrity. Go drink beer, BRETT, JUST NOT ON THE SUPREME COURT.
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Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 6:20 PM UTC
I like beer, too
Creatively wit, artistically gifted - politically inclined to design any archetype of freedom and how a woman should hold her head up high, like the almighty God she is. Able to disfigure the illusions and misconception that the media and other forms of capitalistic control, teach her fellow sisters and Queen. Prove to them that not only are they more than this 'sex symbol', And being blind to this facts, just helps perpetuate the conditioning of self-hate, that you're not light enough or too dark - you're just something that helps the sun shine on their fare skin. And you're ****** is worth nothing more than it was compensated fo' 450 years ago, to birth being that yet again go through the cycle of supremacy. But you say, **** ALL THAT - I'm a Queen, GOD IS SHE. So kiss my fat *** and my appletree. Because me and my sisters sill no longer accept your misogynistic disrespect and immoral, emotional neglect. Your referendums for ****** favors in exchange what is due me, ****** freedom and freedom to do whatever the **** I please. And ever since I saw those defining characteristics in thee, Since, I've always respected you as my Queen.
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Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
"Queen"
man leisured by the least obliging functioning of what he terms “proper” manual endeavours of the biceps will clearly resolve the matter being his last adventure that’s consumerism, creating as many menial jobs as possible without the freedom to enjoy hardish and the elements; but of course man’s life will become easier, but his adventure seeking will simply become a zoology, a safari, a safety netting - consumerism is hardly an adventure, it’s a bicycle schematic: one wheel produces, another wheel consumes; most of the jobs under the hammer were not menial, they became menial only when heidegger’s hammer was involved and the rebellion came when hammering nails in turned into discussing philosophy; it’s hard to commence an emergence of philosophy window shopping, woman’s new kitchen area: you know how many marriages i have seen fail because of over-cooked pasta? too many. you know how many glass houses i’ve seen constructed by women peering into shop windows at mannequins? too many. i sometimes think about sartre’s c.c.t.v. voyeurism pervasive in english society alongside paedophilia, and i guess the jigsaw parts fit... they do; once dubbed the nation of shopkeepers, now dubbed the nation of integrally ~foreign mortgage lenders (nation of property developers / landlords... indeed, once a nation of shopkeepers, now a nation of landlords): or a nation re-evaluating communism by importing slavs to talk of the ups and lows of communism by trying to curb capitalistic egoism and turn it into a collective without communism’s egoism father stalin:                             or queen bee or queen ant china.
0
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 8:08 PM UTC
nation of shopkeepers turned into a nation of landlords
man leisured by the least obliging functioning of what he terms “proper” manual endeavours of the biceps will clearly resolve the matter being his last adventure that’s consumerism, creating as many menial jobs as possible without the freedom to enjoy hardish and the elements; but of course man’s life will become easier, but his adventure seeking will simply become a zoology, a safari, a safety netting - consumerism is hardly an adventure, it’s a bicycle schematic: one wheel produces, another wheel consumes; most of the jobs under the hammer were not menial, they became menial only when heidegger’s hammer was involved and the rebellion came when hammering nails in turned into discussing philosophy; it’s hard to commence an emergence of philosophy window shopping, woman’s new kitchen area: you know how many marriages i have seen fail because of over-cooked pasta? too many. you know how many glass houses i’ve seen constructed by women peering into shop windows at mannequins? too many. i sometimes think about sartre’s c.c.t.v. voyeurism pervasive in english society alongside paedophilia, and i guess the jigsaw parts fit... they do; once dubbed the nation of shopkeepers, now dubbed the nation of integrally ~foreign mortgage lenders (nation of property developers / landlords... indeed, once a nation of shopkeepers, now a nation of landlords): or a nation re-evaluating communism by importing slavs to talk of the ups and lows of communism by trying to curb capitalistic egoism and turn it into a collective without communism’s egoism father stalin:                             or queen bee or queen ant china.
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34
Alexander K Opicho Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected] when i start by name perhaps in a flap of fault exculpate my soul for maximum rectitude is the true fill of my heart glory to the sons of Russia Kudos to you all and your foremen; Nikolai Gogol the master in the dead souls Alexander Pushkin the effeminate poet Vladimir Lenin who knew what was doable Alexander sholenestysn the Siberian jail bird who was on the poetic phone by five Feodor Dostoyevsky the epileptic Karamazov Maxim Gorky and Antony Chenkoy leave them alone Ayn Rand the woman who shrug the atlas for we the living Vladimir Nabokov the school master who asked for *** from her student the adourous ****** Boris Pasternak the Muzhik like Leo Tolstoy who wanted land beyond the horizon for doctor Zhivago the **** peasant or Vladimir Makayavosky who slapped the public in the face of their capitalistic taste, Glorified be you all you sons of Russia your Muse is beautiful and erotically crazy glory for your humour and your finer threads with which you have woven for me my poems of dystopia glory be to you all in the stark oblivion of Leon Trotsky and his penman Leonid Brezhnev
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Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 12:15 PM UTC
ode to all the Russian Poets
I don’t know what to buy nothing seems to be enough for me I think about all it took to get to that shelf in the supermarket; all it took for them to place that can of soda on a shelf And then I thought to myself that the same applies with everyone and everything How is the twinkle in your left eyeball (the one I’d stare at as you’d fall asleep to the sound of my stories, the ones you didn’t like) any different from the can of sardines at your local supermarket I propose that we are all products in an increasingly capitalistic market No one wants you in the end You end up in someone’s cart for twenty minutes You take a ride; whilst suffocating in a plastic bag You are used and eaten and beaten You are merely an item And then you’re over And then you are to be thrown away Brought to a landfill Buried And finally you are to be forgotten And the worst part is, that you thought that you were special
0
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 7:31 AM UTC
Cynicism at a Supermarket
You cringeworthy, evil pismire; Your father did surely miss-sire This personification of flatulence, The embodiment of self importance Overflowing with abject peccancy Devoid of any sign of respectability Replete with gross odoriferousness Horribly and infamously unscrupulous. You have reveled in misrepresentation And tried to elevate your calumniation Disinformation and deception exists As capitalistic dissembling persists. You’ve collected an evil government Built mostly of human excrement And have such a lack of veracity That you speak in constant mendacity. Sycophantic eructations of dogmatic bile Issue from your unsympathetic smile And your inauthentic glad-handed gropes As if we all of us are unbright gullible dopes That buy your fabrications completely While you pilfer and prevaricate indiscreetly. You are a Vaudevillian villain miscast as star, But most of us know exactly what you are. Deceit, deception, dishonesty; a tragedy But not for you, for us and our country. Distortion, evasion and fabrication the rules; You despair of any other kinds of tools. Falsehoods, fictions and forgery are your tricks. You demand we build with straw-less bricks Your erections that are planned to be palaces Filled with your giant golden carved phalluses. Those monuments, inanotomically correct, Established to celebrate and somehow protect A mountebank on the way to an overseas bank Claiming to eradicate the scoria he creates That decades of privation will not quite alleviate. But you, the Great Prevaricator, will always blame Other players in your sick, unconstitutional game Instead of admitting your complicity and guilt About the disgusting, putrid swamp you built.
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Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 2:32 PM UTC
THE GREAT PREVARICATOR
You cringeworthy, evil pismire; Your father did surely miss-sire This personification of flatulence, The embodiment of self importance Overflowing with abject peccancy Devoid of any sign of respectability Replete with gross odoriferousness Horribly and infamously unscrupulous. You have reveled in misrepresentation And tried to elevate your calumniation Disinformation and deception exists As capitalistic dissembling persists. You’ve collected an evil government Built mostly of human excrement And have such a lack of veracity That you speak in constant mendacity. Sycophantic eructations of dogmatic bile Issue from your unsympathetic smile And your inauthentic glad-handed gropes As if we all of us are unbright gullible dopes That buy your fabrications completely While you pilfer and prevaricate indiscreetly. You are a Vaudevillian villain miscast as star, But most of us know exactly what you are. Deceit, deception, dishonesty; a tragedy But not for you, for us and our country. Distortion, evasion and fabrication the rules; You despair of any other kinds of tools. Falsehoods, fictions and forgery are your tricks. You demand we build with straw-less bricks Your erections that are planned to be palaces Filled with your giant golden carved phalluses. Those monuments, inanotomically correct, Established to celebrate and somehow protect A mountebank on the way to an overseas bank Claiming to eradicate the scoria he creates That decades of privation will not quite alleviate. But you, the Great Prevaricator, will always blame Other players in your sick, unconstitutional game Instead of admitting your complicity and guilt About the disgusting, putrid swamp you built.
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41
My ancestors (i hesitate to even call them such) came to this land centuries ago they came with nothing hoping to start a new life but this is not about my proud heritage not about immigrants following the American Dream (Nightmare would be more accurate) No my ancestors my White Anglo Saxon Protestant ancestors descended upon this pristine landmass like so many parasitic WASPs injecting their prey (the people, the land) with venom laying their eggs that would **** the hosts upon hatching No my ancestors who helped perpetrate an ethnic cleansing the likes of which 20th century fascists could only dream of did so under the title of Manifest Destiny divine right their religion masking opportunistic genocide No my ancestors laid the foundation for the greatest country in the world where ALL (White, English, Heteronormative, Cisnormative, Land-owning, Slave-Owning, Women Hating , Native-American-Murdering, Capitalistic, Perverted) MEN are created equal No my ancestors partook in genocide condoned slavery oppressed women (and every other divergent identity) destroyed the environment and did so with such arrogance such unheard of righteousness No my ancestors were the lifeblood of America the lifeblood of oppression and that blood runs through my veins the screams of American-Indian Warriors of African Slaves of Women labeled Witches and Gays and People of Color and anyone who opposed the hideous behemoth, anyone who dared to be different their screams echo in my head and i am ashamed
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Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 12:11 PM UTC
shame
My ancestors (i hesitate to even call them such) came to this land centuries ago they came with nothing hoping to start a new life but this is not about my proud heritage not about immigrants following the American Dream (Nightmare would be more accurate) No my ancestors my White Anglo Saxon Protestant ancestors descended upon this pristine landmass like so many parasitic WASPs injecting their prey (the people, the land) with venom laying their eggs that would **** the hosts upon hatching No my ancestors who helped perpetrate an ethnic cleansing the likes of which 20th century fascists could only dream of did so under the title of Manifest Destiny divine right their religion masking opportunistic genocide No my ancestors laid the foundation for the greatest country in the world where ALL (White, English, Heteronormative, Cisnormative, Land-owning, Slave-Owning, Women Hating , Native-American-Murdering, Capitalistic, Perverted) MEN are created equal No my ancestors partook in genocide condoned slavery oppressed women (and every other divergent identity) destroyed the environment and did so with such arrogance such unheard of righteousness No my ancestors were the lifeblood of America the lifeblood of oppression and that blood runs through my veins the screams of American-Indian Warriors of African Slaves of Women labeled Witches and Gays and People of Color and anyone who opposed the hideous behemoth, anyone who dared to be different their screams echo in my head and i am ashamed
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44
I suppose you feel threatened huh, Amerika? It must hurt you, pain you deeply, I care not to live by these Idiotic Heteronormative Cis-normative Sexist Anti-feminist Racist (or should I say Rakkkist) Xenophobic Homophobic Doesn’t want to to deal with AIDS crisis Abilist Capitalistic Fascist Doesn't give a **** about the poor or needy Supports **** Culture All Lives Matter except trans women, women, people of color AND Black Lives, Electing Donald Trump society. I hope your founding fathers Choke themselves with the noose they made, in their respective graves.
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Jun 24, 2017
Jun 24, 2017 at 1:20 AM UTC
Bumpticus
It is not the lion or the wolf you should fear. It’s the howling storm that breaks the chains you hold so dear. The attitude that shatters all those sacred matters which add up to nothing but junk food for the human mind. All those restrictions you let others impose, all those pathways they told you were not the right way to go, the ones you knew led to a brighter day. I was not made to devastate the mental state of hearts enslaved by the corporate government that barely pays minimum wage. Destiny, was not laid before me, I just happen to acquire a brain that desires to explore everything. Fear is just the tool used to cower fools. Curiosity is what we all need, to generate unlimited diversity of dreams, scientific discoveries, and great stories. It will give us the power to write new lights of insight into our current reality, opening up unknown possibilities, and better ways to elevate to a higher state of free, instead of the capitalistic prison and religion some love that calls itself democracy.
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Nov 29, 2020
Nov 29, 2020 at 4:14 PM UTC
Untitled 598
I’m… Sitting in my flat, To my couch I am thatched, Kyle’s yelling, He keeps telling, Me to, Get a job, Like walk straight into one, I get slightly indignant, That it’s easier said than done, He points it out, So his main demographic Don’t switch off en-masse, Ending his quasi-infographic Combination of hot air and bad gas Mr. Kyle’s relatable, He makes an effort So unlike certain Eton educated conservative western capitalistic illuminati slaves, He’s not hateable. SO, my now easily distracted mind turns to Mr.C, The way his policies A.K.A BEDROOM TAX negatively impact me The way he forces me into obvious and obnoxious modern day slavery Through way of a work programme How he has decided that I need to experience real life life, Through legislation and universal credit, Credible implication to make the poorest poorer because they have the gall to spend it SO my rhyming thought full of tangents Must now come to end As the tangent I have accomplished Is impossible to defend.
0
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 8:14 AM UTC
JSA blues
Tea and Trumpets Anyone It's time to have some fun
0
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 8:13 AM UTC
The Capitalistic Chant
What if I told you that your god is dead? that supply and demand, economic forces we trust more than the laws of physics are not supplemented by a caring, Invisible hand? That the holy scriptures, thin, green pages in between the folds of a wallet are no more valueable than this gum wrapper blowing in the wind Unless we all BELIEVE otherwise Adam Smith said "Many will enter, but few will win" -cite What will give you a sense of purpose or security when you try to sleep at night? Everyone hope in the American Dream! a capitalistic kushion to save you in your time of need made of vapor to catch you when the stocks are falling its appalling this heaven of prosperity that depends on consuming more and more of the earth Listen to The Economist's sermon Watch how he reads the tea leaves Will the Fed raise the interest rates this year? We throw the dice and say our prayers. All things work together for good For those who love it. Welcome to the worship of Mammon.
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Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
The Faith of Neo-Classical Economics
Is it wrong to feel compassion, for rebellion, for upheaval, for revolution, protests and marches for causes; gone to the psychedelic winds, in place come capitalistic mentions, nominations to the greater things. Is it futile to believe, in the triumphs of the few, against the many, having meaning, mentality. the art of living, of flowing upstream, against wishes of authority, the understand, but duty dictates, otherwise. The people have the right, but not the motivation, to enact and will, through the teeth of, the oppressors. We all feel weak, yet the power struggle cont. (end of page. arrow) Throughout time, Proving ourselves, Making it through the day, Has amounted to the probability, The chance we took, Have we flopped? Are we on the floor? Are we able to recover? Even fatalistically. Has anything changed? Since the works of the older Generation? Do we, Does our are, mean the same as, Their output. It sounds softer, more real, Tangible and timeless. Now our mentality has moved to A lull Our enlightenment has darkented, Our meaning has, diluted, And we feel the numbing venom, of the very real dream, of how the world ought to be. 10/23/13
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Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 9:24 PM UTC
IS IT WRONG TO FEEL COMPASSION?
Crick crack click clap snip snap on the concrete The city is on the move and to stand would be The slapstick comedy of stopping a treadmill. Acceleration animation gravitation from the rotation Apathetic friction that is devil-may-care like your heart Dragged down on the gym floor and the sweaty men laugh. Tick tock nonstop the clock hops and bops away the time Of the day and eternity seems like a fairy tale Because this era is neverneverland faith, we are young. And getting younger, we plan to die naked as we came, Lounging in retirement, the summer that knows no end. But sighing the dying are crying relying upon our move And we move past, this blur of momentum that the city has become, Because stillness is for the hippies and the natives and we are neither. Capitalistic colonial conquering captains of industry we charge Credit or debit because it isn't ours anyways and the bank is moving. Down the street in the heat can't beat the beat of the sweet treat That the homeless remember the memory of the taste of mercy. Like dogs in heat they pant and beg and we shake them off our pantleg Because it is designer and the label buys manhood cheap and sells it high. We split hit and quit and never commit because we spit words like blessing Out when we wash our mouths out every night and every morning Because it is the only way to get the taste out of your mouth when you wake up. As if the jacket I wear can't clothe a man from the cold or sell for more And my closet is lined with the clothes I don't remember to forget about wearing. It is not hate that congregates or abates the rate the weight is pulling me down, But fear of the immensity of impossibility colliding with reality inevitably, Because one man's sacrifice will suffice to pay the price of my vice. Yessir hearts are racing toward the first heart, we are collaborating. That the dying need not remain the dead but know life to the fullest. The poor and the sore need not abhor or war with the rush of the city. Because saints and saviors are not just bedtime stories as long as my life Has the power, no the will, no just the faith, all it needs is faith. The sick have been tricked that their wick runs quick Like crick crack click clack snip snap on the concrete These hearts are moving this city on a hill.
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Mar 24, 2011
Mar 24, 2011 at 6:28 PM UTC
For the Beatniks
Crick crack click clap snip snap on the concrete The city is on the move and to stand would be The slapstick comedy of stopping a treadmill. Acceleration animation gravitation from the rotation Apathetic friction that is devil-may-care like your heart Dragged down on the gym floor and the sweaty men laugh. Tick tock nonstop the clock hops and bops away the time Of the day and eternity seems like a fairy tale Because this era is neverneverland faith, we are young. And getting younger, we plan to die naked as we came, Lounging in retirement, the summer that knows no end. But sighing the dying are crying relying upon our move And we move past, this blur of momentum that the city has become, Because stillness is for the hippies and the natives and we are neither. Capitalistic colonial conquering captains of industry we charge Credit or debit because it isn't ours anyways and the bank is moving. Down the street in the heat can't beat the beat of the sweet treat That the homeless remember the memory of the taste of mercy. Like dogs in heat they pant and beg and we shake them off our pantleg Because it is designer and the label buys manhood cheap and sells it high. We split hit and quit and never commit because we spit words like blessing Out when we wash our mouths out every night and every morning Because it is the only way to get the taste out of your mouth when you wake up. As if the jacket I wear can't clothe a man from the cold or sell for more And my closet is lined with the clothes I don't remember to forget about wearing. It is not hate that congregates or abates the rate the weight is pulling me down, But fear of the immensity of impossibility colliding with reality inevitably, Because one man's sacrifice will suffice to pay the price of my vice. Yessir hearts are racing toward the first heart, we are collaborating. That the dying need not remain the dead but know life to the fullest. The poor and the sore need not abhor or war with the rush of the city. Because saints and saviors are not just bedtime stories as long as my life Has the power, no the will, no just the faith, all it needs is faith. The sick have been tricked that their wick runs quick Like crick crack click clack snip snap on the concrete These hearts are moving this city on a hill.
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36
Jeremy Corbyn has enraged The invisible monster The machine is spun; By pieces of mouth Manipulated by Megalomaniac 'Internationals', Capitalistic global corporations, Arms and petroleum merchants. Surprise, surprise!! It's time to climb Up on the cross The global temple vendors, Precisely placed politicians, And media pharisees Have been plotting For Jeremy Jesus I wonder who will wash their hands? Merry Christmas! Sean Hunt   Windermere Xmas 2015
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Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 4:39 AM UTC
Crusader Corbyn Crucified
Previous eras were motivated by mystical forces such as god or universal structure of being (EXISTENTIALISM) as well as morality and a feeling of putting others before yourself (RELIGION?) and these approaches to life led to advancements in society and man’s relation to nature (TREES) but the problem with capitalistic society is that we have only one motivation prevailing over all others *** that is, the motivation to reproduce the productive forces through monetary exchange. (MONEY) This structure of society will ultimately limit man's aims toward maintaining the status-quo and will stagnate our advancement as a species (MICROWAVE DEVELOPMENT) the only way forward for mankind is to end capitalistic production and free our minds. (POPCORN TUBE)
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Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 10:00 PM UTC
Halicarnassus