"censored" poems
back home in the dire hope where the lens is unclean
but the sky is **** where the numb trust is broken
mostly from the rainfall lately
and the meager tools
are as useless
as a wink.
there. there i toil in the afterbirth
of a previous misadventure. censored and reduced to a miracle
that has no reason. There i plod the chaste road to wanton Elsewhere
and arrive most gone
from my seldom
yes.
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 11:12 AM UTC
I wont be censored and I cant be stopped,
I'll be air brushed out and photoshopped.
Forgotten.
There's an energy in this youth,
Kids with blue and red hair,
The world is up for grabs,
but I wont see it,
I wont be there.
If the revolution came tonight would anybody care.
Feb 10, 2010
Feb 10, 2010 at 5:48 AM UTC
Not near-sighted; not far-sighted
Just blinded by stupidity
By rich inhumanity
Lack of love in society
Absence of insight; omission of outsight
Just censored curiosity
Loss of credibility
Condemned abnormality
Futures foresighted; actions unsighted
The past, no punctuality
Death by immortality
Buried from reality
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 7:33 PM UTC
I'm tired!
I'm tired of everything,
I'm tired of all this world,
I'm tired of everything!
I’m tired of every example,
I'm tired of all the effort,
I'm tired of paying the price,
I'm tired of dying of desire!
I'm tired of being late,
I'm tired of being diagnosed,
I'm tired of being cured,
I'm tired of being censored!
I'm tired of having to explain to me,
I'm tired of having to listen,
I’m tired of all words,
I got tired even of poetry!
I'm tired of still life,
I'm tired of alternative medicine,
I'm tired of rich details,
I'm tired!
I'm tired of daydreaming,
I'm tired of sleeping on the train,
I'm tired of feeling pain,
I'm tired of suffering for love!
I'm tired of everything in this world!
Tired tired!
Tired of living tired,
Tired to exhaustion!
Tired out,
Married…
I married my old coat
With my fatigue.
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 12:57 PM UTC
the artistry in you
snapping bubbles
through your hair
resting feather
the coop
the hibernation
every bit of your work
a statement of
beast and sacrifice
sweet mother
holy sister
undying scientist
like windows
like soil
in which life grows
good earth
good prairie
miles and miles of you
swaying in the wind
inculcated within me
this immortal passion
to watch you sprout life
to watch you work
to watch you love
a blissful void
a simple kiss
a wonderful purple
this incomprehensible galaxy
makes sense
when I see your eyes
scanning billions of blades
of grass
when I witness the tortuous
beauty
of your smile
when I hear you
read your poetry
it’s the gift of nature
unprecedented
unexpected
un-censored
unlike anything I’ve ever
experienced
your love
Jessica
your love
is ineffable
Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 11:31 PM UTC
I hate censorship
if anyone asked me
I'd say
**** CENSORSHIP
Life is raw and gritty and bare
everywhere you look
and this ******* facade we put up
it's just ****
and anyone with a brain
can see right through it
thats why the smart ones
are usually con artists and crooks
because its a ******* joke
its just some game you made
out of living reality
babies see ghosts in mirrors
and demons at the windows
but we convince them they aren't there
and they become like us
they just stop seeing them
those magical things
have been censored from their lives
now dull
now hum drum
now fit to be enslaved
in school
by the rule
by the belt and fist
by the military academy
drum hit drum hit
by war
by tv
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 3:07 PM UTC
Silver screen athletes
quitting soccer teams
to join homophobic friends
(redneck quasi outdoors-men)
who just want to **** animals
angst must be vented
lest it boil inside
and form a much darker concoction.
I beat the horse
'till I couldn't get it wrong
even then
the faceless desks of power
endorse eugenics,
pharmaceuticals,
and high profile lawyers
sentencing me to a life's term
teaching Sophocles
to an uninterested fifteen year old
too busy stroking a Ritalin limp ****
to star censored ladies on Vegas stripper cards.
And he said "Watch your language"
when I said "What the ****
Jan 13, 2011
Jan 13, 2011 at 3:10 PM UTC
From freedom and serenity - forced back,
Within a heavy frame, I twist and turn.
Surrounded by darkness - sunlight lacks
Through peaceful ears, an alarm clock burns.
Feeling like someone once deceased,
I ****** myself from my tranquil sleep...
Stumbling to the kitchen, eyes half open,
I prepare my meal in a weary daze.
I will not dread today - I'm hoping,
As I race through traffic in my malaise.
Drinking in my last few moments,
I do what I must, but never condone it...
My interior seething from stress filled meetings,
These rules defeating - my lifeblood fleeting,
A blunt insanity from this calamity,
Through censored profanity, I scream "barbarity!"
Beneath the boots of automatic overlords,
We're trapped together - anxious and bored...
Our heads hang, our eyes bleed
Their talking styles belie their greed.
Our mouths move - connection we seek,
But we find our language strange and oblique.
Back home, on my couch, lethargic and pale,
Hypnotized by TV, my dreams turning stale…
A once free spirit, now a mindless drone -
My sense of identity is what they dethrone.
I assure myself, my soul will endure,
Friday at five, I’m told is the cure.
But, revolution’s muscle beats in my chest!
So, a simple existence, I imagine, my best.
This is my strife - I hate this way of life!
Words can’t explain the disdain in my veins.
So, I have no choice, but to use my voice,
To tell you all to your face, there’s no time to waste!
Everyday, I pickup my pen and face the end -
To light the fire, that from ashes, we’ll ascend...
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 4:58 PM UTC
my life is beautiful, not realistic.
yesterday, i arrived on neptune
wearing big boots and dignity
the horizon was a nightmare of question marks
and gloomy witches;
i escaped from the religious enema and
pegged a choir boy on my way out.
i am no longer a pygmy goat on a foolish leash,
i take my paranoia seriously.
my journals guide me to a ruptured corpse,
never censored.
i have the ability to be given away on a whim,
but i am becoming a famous soldier, an intoxicating
ghost of dogma.
my dreams are beautiful, not realistic.
hallelujah, the hobos are wearing bathrobes,
the ****** pillheads are anointed with ****** and sewer cleaners.
i see a goblin grave advertised by
luscious lips and fishlike shoulders.
the texture of my dream is kaleidoscope and silver,
haunted by a fat sherriff who cuts the throat of the jukebox queen.
i have a personal god, and on her i bestow this passionate kiss,
i have a favorite enemy, with no goals and without ambition.
im sorry, i don't know any happy songs,
only the movement of her young sensitive thighs and
a nymph with an hourly rate.
i am a buffoon with a blugeoned harmonica and
weapons of sugar.
my life is beautiful, not realistic.
Jan 28, 2012
Jan 28, 2012 at 11:23 PM UTC
Demented bandit
Redundant pundit
Fun time gambit
Screaming "Bomb it!"
Vicious *****
Cannot stand it
Mend it, bend it
Maybe tow it
How it goes
It goes all wrong
It wrongs no more
More than it should
But more it could
I guess it would
But that would hurt
Oh what a ****
The world is burnt
And I feel like a picture blurt
You've censored too much
Ventured too far
Gotten all such
Answers fewer
Violent fever
Violet furor
Volatile gore
Gory tumour
Sep 9, 2019
Sep 9, 2019 at 11:37 AM UTC
Yes, I use violent imagery
Correction: I love using violent imagery
Does that annoy you?
Somehow set you off?
Is it because you wish
That I was a bit more 'normal'
A bit less pronounced, obvious
About who I am?
Are you annoyed because
You wish I'd feel embarrased
Of this part of myself?
Does it **** you off
To see me proudly display
My inner self-
all of it-
Without any of your foolish
Censoring?
Is it perhaps because
I am attempting to accept myself
Whatever I might be, its entirety?
Does it anger you
Because you
You bowed your head
And conformed when
Someone else came
And censored you?
But I
I refuse to do the same
For this is me
And I am not going to
Pick apart and,
Cut out
The bits of me you don't like
The shards
That form the complete picture
I refuse to allow
You to touch them
For this is ME
ME
*Not you
Not your domain*
NOT under your control
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 12:21 AM UTC
You don't love
me;
you love the
tip of the iceberg
that is your idea of me;
the sugar-coated mute
leading herds
of unfinished sentences
down the copious hills
of his insecurity;
the nice little writer
whose constant attempts
at legendary one-liners
are as hit-or-miss
as a sitcom still airing
far past its prime.
I possess three biomes,
or, rather, three networks
of personalities and identities.
I am much more than
the Jack Macfarland archetype
lip-syncing to Cher in the one
gay bar in town, tyrannically
governing your wardrobe,
possessing a razor-sharp wit
cast toward the backs of his community
in the form of an outdated punchline-
my work on that show
lost its Willful relevance
and Graceful naivete
years ago.
I am of the generation
fed media saturation
three four-hour meals a day,
who ingested cardboard cadavers
as if they were mother's milk
and internally mutated their
thoughts and desires
to fit the compact time frame
of 30 minutes
to settle the series' worth
of traumas and neuroses
while making it home for dinner
to stay tuned for what's
next in the lineup.
Speaking as a casualty of this
inevitable chain of events,
I regretfully declare that even
those who have seen
every episode of myself
for the past six seasons
are still light years away
from the room full of faces
unencumbered by euphemism.
Jun 27, 2010
Jun 27, 2010 at 10:59 AM UTC
A voter’s pair of eyes
Must see through the lulling guise of:
Envy, desire, uncontrolled lust.
Greed does not bluff,
Ego’s fueled flames
Burn everyone's trust.
Censored is shame,
Constant the need for more stuff!
Ruining relations, while nations go bust.
Confronted, greed has nothing to say,
Actions from the master of so many slaves
PFL
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 3:38 PM UTC