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johnny solstice Jun 2019
The world's a funny old place
There used to exist wondrous civilisations
in south amerika, north amerika,
afrika, australia and asia

Brown eyes in asia
Brown eyes in afrika
Brown eyes in the amerikas
brown eyes in australia
Brown eyes in asia.......

In europe, old Blue eyes
with holy laws got us tongue-tied
and gave us Blue-eyed apartied
You gnow this lyrik can wright
words come out free-flight
set the "truth" alight
enough of this pirate *****
robbers and looters take fright
I am the holy grail's "white knight"
a rhyming flea-bite
the verbal gun-fight
of a poet's loaded tongue
singing the praises of the unsung
crying the cry of the dumbed-down
dissin' the excommunicated klowns
this is the patriachal showdown
religious apartied must shut down
exorcise these cabbagetowns
time to make the vampires frown

Time to make your blue eyes brown
see through your brothers eyes
read through the lines of lies
recognise the world wide spies

"Apartied is dead?"..."Mandela is free!"
but not for all aboriginees
the nomads of the desert
and the people of the trees
and every kind of refugee
I don't see no Comanche presidency
in the land of the Brave.....
.....or the land of the Free
All I see is economic slavery
and god-fearing hypocricy
a full-on global tragedy
too much HE and not enough SHE
too much US and too much THEM
divide and conquer again and again
Sanity sold by CON-men
Truth dished out by AD-men

"so help me god" AMEN
"with god on our side" AMEN
"in god we trust" AMEN

who burnt the sisters at Salem?
how did it start?...and when...
...........will it end
this truth I defend
I come again and again
check my refrain
to remain LOVE MUST REIGN
feel this and you feel no pain
to remain LOVE MUST REIGN

They've played their game
the more things change
it's always the same
using pens to rob your brain
telling us that we're insane
well here's a lie from the outsane
your system stinks like your house-drains
your blue minds are chemically stained
your self-worth's imprisoned in fear-chains
no kind of killing is humane
all prejudice is ingrained
the vultures are driving the gravy-train
supremacists carry a blood-stain
blue-eyed apartied is soul-shame
the HIStory of victors is all that remains

In the last hour 2,000 people have died of starvation......
2,000 acres of rainforest have been destroyed.....
half a ton of toxic chemicals have been released into the atmosfear
50 plants and animals have become extinct

SO!..what do you think?
does it stink?
are we the weakest link?
are we standing on the brink?
of a precipice, sheer........
......with no bottom
all our gains are ill-gotten
this system is rotten
we've all but forgotten
.......how it was before!
the slamming of your doors
can't keep me out
conscious lyrik I'll spout
we must bail out
sort the wheat from the chaffe
sort the good from the bad

let me ask you.......who's SAD?
McFreudian....Babble-onian...
seasonally  adjusted BAD
Chemi-cooly...orange-juicey....SAD

INTEL-ectual-OTOMY
******­-monotony
Dot-com-fuckology
must catch a fire
dreaming spires......
.......and vampires
Ride the wire
we got to get higher
..............higher
higher than high

Try this for size
the slavemaster's disguise
is the mirror in our eyes
and it should come as no surprise
that life's greatest prize
is the life that you've got

yes life's greatest prize
is the life that you've got
ExtinctionRebellion OneLove aparthied
Jack R Fehlmann Jan 2015
his is my conception flawed
most Patina proned
the imperfects,
                                     they
                     fragment
       become
at its surface
       wanting
life's reasons
                                     cracks
                   chaffe
of this
        creation and eternal question
the layers meaningless therein
the death of sunlight
setting perfected
another day
to feed tomorrows imagination
much
         displayed in each rotten liars face
covered over some past
smothering and building above
and fragrant dreams
should fuel brashness misdirected
purpose that
             for all it is
be it found to be lacking
                 it bears the knowledge gap
famed no known muse
or compostion worthy
notedly proportional whites and
other shades, emotionless
calming,
the sediment settles
to touch the muddy surface
consideringly well intended
another day,
         another to shine
less than
                        perfect
is          
        and those
that demand
a concept placed uncertain
determined and truthfully in the rught
hopefully atleast as to face
forced gazes
                    accusatiions
                              a reflection
my face
              that
looks back
            upon one


                               uwanted.
blah..  don't now what the hell my thoughts had in mnd here,..  oh well...
buzz Apr 2018
If I could write a letter to the girl I used to be
When my friends felt more like paper dolls, and my notebook spilled black ink onto my hands and stained everything I loved
When I met that miracle with crossed eyes and spindle limbs, and decided to hang stars from her eyelashes
When it felt like my furniture had been moved two inches to the left, just enough to feel wrong, just enough to chaffe
I would tell that girl that I found God
And God was nothing like I thought
I would tell her that I met Him when my skin split open, like all the words I swallowed dry had crawled up out of my veins to show me what hurt really felt like
He was my razor, He was my blood, He was the sting of sweat in fresh cuts
That night I thought about you, little girl
I thought about all the reasons I didn't want to die
See, you don't know this yet, but you’re about to meet the family you never had
One lives in Texas but I swear, you’ve never felt so close to someone so far away
She will show you how to have faith in something bigger than yourself, and how warm it is to fill yourself with love
She will be the mother you thought you would never get to meet, and there's not a **** thing you wouldnt do to protect her
And the other one
You're gonna think she's somewhere else entirely, but one by one, the days sitting with her will feel more like home than where you sleep at night
Shes gonna show you how rage can be kind, and how to let the world roll off your back like drops of rain off stained glass windows
She is your brother, and a swiss army knife, and a lucky pair of brass knuckles
The world is gonna kick your ***, kid
You're gonna write it down with a pen fashioned from your bones
and you will never pause to look behind you
Brad J Deering Aug 2015
Sometimes waking up is a smack in the face
Like a whip to a slave of a superior race
I offer my shoes to he who dare try a taste
Like snorting a line of strick nine as long as a shoelace
Or perhaps some *** say 151 proof with a match for the chase
It feels that my eyelids have developed a chaffe
Words only hurt directed at face
Alone and disconnected I slip right by you undetected
But I'm only here with you as expected
Call me nowhere man who stands emotionless
Holding your bible but no revival
You say "to understand to be a man"
While I'm in complete wonderment
That you ask what happened to humanity
It's hung from your vanity the one by the  writings on the wall
Your book of lies leveling its instability
You sit and paint your face of kindness to get beside us
Spreading false hope greed sliding from your forked tongue
And I say to you go away I've got my own problems
Pray the day I do not wake
Circa 1994 Sep 2016
Fragile finger tips
That dip into you.
Dewy eyes because he's sleep deprived.

Filled with helium,
He floats up to the ceiling when he laughs - with a sharp exhale through the nose.
Easily deflated,
But not replaced.

Boy, oh boy
What I would give
To gingerly caress
That bearded face.
That face of a boy,
Hidden behind hair and glass and  others' expectations.

He is the end of a candle wick,
Unexpected and satisfying
He escapes in a spiral of smoke.
But I know his presence
by his smell.
(And cling to it when he vanishes.)
It clings to your clothes.
I inhale until my nostrils chaffe.
Linger and let linger.

It's light for him to be
And heavy when he is not.
But he is just a boy staying up past his bedtime.
A boy to whom my servitude belongs.
A boy in the shoes of the man he is becoming.

A boy in the midst of a growth spurt,
I kid you not
He loves me.
He love me n,
He loves me.
He love me no,
He loves me.
Not as an after thought

— The End —