"conspiracies" poems
There once was a black man... Old at heart, he fought verbally and accordingly with bold words, which abbreviated and arbitrated great art! He spoke of activism. Not just racial, and economic racism. He fought against demonic injustices for you, yes, made me see. He stood for principles of non-violence. Acknowledged corrupt government
mileage, European knowledge and college. A philosopher, teacher
and preacher as well as a civil rights leader. When he spoke his words of fire indeed chiseled and inspired. Causing some to conspire and also perspire! Born January 15th 1929 in Atlanta, Georgia. Named in honor of the German protestant Martin Luther. Bachelor of Arts
degree in sociology. Making a mark in doctoral studies, systematic theology. June 5th 1955 This King married Corretta Scott in Heiberger,
Alabama for many to see. Proceeding with four children: Yolanda, Martin Luther the 3rd to be! Dexter Scott and Bernice to increase the peace. Despite the European police, the movements and stressed
protests, the silence, ****** and racial violence. The segregation and interrogations in force, instead of integration of course. Black mishaps, lack of differences in relapse perhaps! Plagiarized and slandered, demised by some of the wise. Accused of communistic ties. Blinded
by others’ eyes and of our world’s twisted lies. Montgomery, Georgia
bus boycott, 1955 was the year. However, forever in disguise, our fear of tears was apparently adhered. From here to near, also all those dear. Mere letters he wrote, from Birmingham jail I quote! From the slums, some of sums, hail and prevail! A creation prevailing into a deriving and thriving nation. Mr. King’s vision of a dream, mission,
opposition, optimism and truism, on our wars, welfare and more. I suppose this sounds honest and fair. Mr. King’s theories and worries in emotionalism, evangelism, humanitarianism, racism and socialism. Nobel Peace Prize won in 1964. Regretfully, you may have heard of this before. Government conspiracies and indecencies. Assassination
and discrimination, allegedly, by James Earl Ray. On April 4th, I
almost choke, because for him, his blood did soak. Some thought this **** was a thrill or forced by will. Others still procrastinate in hate! However, forever Martin Luther King was and still is one of the late greats.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 12:53 PM UTC
(To my sisters and brother)
I will always miss …
Our sunset ending quarrels
Our never-ending teases
Christmas’ shared carols
Warm hugs
Through sweet gazes
The sarcastic smiling faces
The growing-up races
Revenge taking chases
Greed over goodies to be hidden
In unpredictable places
And I will always miss …
Competitions and crazy bets
Singing hilarious duets
Of made-up songs in the shower
This innocence
Of our childish humor
Screamed from a room to another
That art of tricking eachother
To cleverly stay in control
Or wrestling over the remote control
And I will always miss …
Decades of shared history
Amplified joy and divided misery
Bursts of laughter on old tapes
Creatively imagined games
Of whirlpools in drapes
And goalkeeper leaps
Random costume parties
Daily role-play stories
Sega sagas from dusk to dawn
Alliances and conspiracies
Sisters, my lovely sisters
Wise, you have become
Loving wives, caring mothers
Soon, you will become
Make sure your kids relive
What we used to live
Their uncle will make you proud
Just like you fill him with pride
Brother, dear brother
I secretly looked up to you
As I grew older
I kept resembling you
It doesn’t matter
If you’re a little far
Brotherhood’s a matter
Of unbreakable bond
And I will always admire, respect, love and cherish …
Every single one of you
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
We are renters
Living off leased land
Never land owners
Years of finances poured into revolving doors
and recycled down into intricate designs creeping beyond the
comprehension of the reasonable woman
(or man)
Why do we fear so much the need for one another?
Desperately flattening desire into hardened emotion
We can't even breathe properly anymore
Oozing smoke and conspiracies out of our pores;
anxiety became our lifeblood
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 1:29 AM UTC
Why Do You Always Have To Hurt Me?
Why Do You Always Have To Think So Negatively?
Why Do You Always Look At The Glass Half Empty?
Instead Of Looking What We Have,
I Guess The Ice Cubes In That Drink,
Make It Hard For You To Think,
Always Complaining That It's Not Good,
Yet You Wanna Go To The Party In The Hood,
Mess Up Your Life,
But Saying You're Making Life Right?
You Have A Past,
But Who Am I To Judge?
I Thought This Would Last,
But Now It's A Life Long Grudge,
Saying You Stopped All This Nonsense With Drugs And ****
Yet If I Ask About Your Past You Start To Yell At Me,
Criticizing My Beliefs Because They Have No Cross To Be Nailed To,
But Being In This World I'm Starting To Live That Lifestyle Through,
Criticize The Unknown Because You Are Afraid,
Yet You Love Discriminating Because You Think It's Brave,
Not Thinking Twice About Conspiracies,
You Just Don't Think Critically,
Unlike Me You Think We Are A Match Made In Heaven,
When Truth Is All You Want To Do Is Pop Prescription Medicine,
You Don't Think About You're Long Term Negative Affect On Me,
All You See Is My Glass Half Full,
Never Looking At It Empty,
And You Don't Like That So You Strive For Us To Be Equal,
This Romance Is Like A Never Ending Sequel,
Hands Tighten Around My Throat As You Try To Kiss Me,
But After The Fact You Sit There And Just Try To Diss Me,
Trying To Smother Out The Truth,
Letting Chaos Run Loose,
Your Just Another Hand To Help Tie The Noose,
Waiting To Strangle My Inner Being And Make Me Scream Truce,
First And Foremost I Believe Everybody Lies,
And I Will Relate To That Until The Day I Die,
Black And White Frames Try To Swallow My Color,
Making Me A Copy Just Like Every Other,
You're Like A Bill O'Reily Or Maybe A Mitt Romney,
When I Try To Speak The Truth You Always Interrupt Me,
I Don't Mean To Name Names,
But These Are Few Who Bring Us Shame,
For Trying To Think Outside The Box,
Who Put The Key Inside The Lock,
And You Sit There Telling Me How School And My Belief's Are Bogus,
But Who Are Trying To Act So **** Heroic?
When I Soar On A Natural High You Say Im Crazy,
But At Least I'm Not Sitting There With A Glass Half Empty...
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 9:27 PM UTC
Sneaking in silently,
whispering
secrets and conspiracies.
This is a puzzle,
scattered by
your thoughtless actions.
Voice still as stone,
I am held
prisoner of my mind.
The hands around my throat,
are not your's
but my very own.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 4:37 AM UTC
*
Complicated right and wrong,
human mistakes gone prolong.
hard to stop when truth hides
from many unseen lies.
Corruptions & conspiracies
Mimics love for money.
Population demands increase
and supply decrease.
Shortage of goods from over consumption.
Rare find in a brink of extinction.
*
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 6:24 AM UTC
Insomnia,
Insomnia,
I wish that you would die.
Why is it that you ****** me?
You laugh as you make me cry.
Feelings that help conspire,
My heart to skip a beat.
The pressure of my blood rises higher,
To cure my sadness I continue to eat.
A monster grows inside of me,
His name I do not know.
All of this peculiar controversy,
Conspiracies begin to grow.
Not knowing who or what I am,
I start to lose my head.
While my head forms
it's acidic jam,
It soaks up into my bed.
Deadly forces fight inside,
My brain stops it's function.
Unconventional disfunctions collide,
Like a sentence without conjunction.
Distancing myself from society,
I'll sleep forever lonely.
Friends are like your enemies,
So late to realize they're phony.
Love has been lost,
Some time ago.
I wish I had a companion.
Misery,
Inside of me.
A woman's touch will make,
This loneliness inside of me go.
Questioning the nature of humanity,
I feel I'm betraying the lord.
Constant coexisting insanity,
Starts when one becomes bored.
Boarding up these windows,
The storm rolls in above.
As peers become your hated foes,
Hate transformed from love.
Waking up this very day,
I notice a familiar sensation,
Every dawn is like today,
With no spontaneous creation.
Night comes about,
I fail to sleep,
Instead I start to shout.
Counting sheep,
Is useless,
As my heart fails to grout.
Insomnia,
Insomnia,
Why won't you let me be?
Too many things exhaust my mind.
I'd like to go to sleep.
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 3:06 PM UTC
So, what if I told you
reality is the dream.
Are you prepared for the
NIGHTMARE?
Do you want to wake up?
Yes, the key is to open your mind and wake up and become one of the socially conscious higher ups in the anarchy we call
Society,
But with great power comes great responsibility.
Honestly, do you believe in the prophecy that our generation can
RISE THROUGH ADVERSITY
Become the masterpiece that God envisioned when he created this tapestry of writers and athletes?
Actually, better yet
Do you believe in the ghost of the past that rest uncomfortably in it's sanctuary?
Are we the Golden Age or are we gilded
We're livid, vivid, driven toward a goal that looks more like a sign telling us we're going the wrong way.
A wicked testimony.
So we're faced with these two options
To wake up or remain dormant
To be a pawn or be a king
To live on our knees or die on our feet
And I don't blame you if you choose eternal slumber
Because we all love to sleep and it's ironic because that's what we look forward to to during each and every day we spend in this dream --
I mean, reality
But, if you choose to lay off the benadryl and take a dose of this "real world"
You may find that missing key you've been looking for.
Or, the glass can be empty and you find nothing but misery and insomnia.
Again, the choice is yours and even if it may SCARE you
Dying on your feet means you learned to walk.
Isn't that the first thing we learn to do?
So maybe our parents actually taught a life lesson
(to our extreme disbelief)
And do know a thing or two
But still, we are the iPhone generation
And they have no clue how to tweet anti government conspiracies and
scroll for hours on tumblr
So what do they know
For all we know they may still be asleep and in the same cheap hotel room as us
So is there to trust
When we dream of gamemasters loving torturing the lower classes and pitting them against each other in death matches?!
Take this match and spark the cowards
Bring light to the revolution and set ablaze the darkening towers
Let's have lucid dreams and rebuild the democracy
Dreams and reality become synonymous and merge into each other to form a new entity and we shall call it
GOD? YOUR MASTERPIECE!
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
Life is serene,
Packed with the calamity,tragedy and sorrowness.
Life is serene,
Painted along with blood,hatred and fury.
Life is serene,
Dwells in the delicate,brittle and fragile heart.
Life is serene,
Feeds on atrocities,supremacies and conspiracies.
Life is serene,
If human cares about serenity.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 3:21 PM UTC
I must take note,
of how the people lie,
their dastardly twists and turns,
their shifting and conflicting emotions,
spiraling out of C O N T R O L,
their faces grim, as the enigma is made,
they paradoxed their words and actions, and all I,
and all I am for, it a laughter under my mask.
I must take note,
for if I don't, I won't be able to detect a group's actions,
they could cause the destruction of my dynasty,
I had set up in my mind,
I deliberately made a world of hope for those who need it,
I who is king, I who is God,
I, who is the only citizen,
they must not find out, and corrupt it,
for I will go hysterical.
I must take note,
of the weather,
what makes the spherical mass in space,
and the biodiversity in it continue to go forward,
for the blades of grass that cut me like a knife,
or the indifference of the flowers lovers give to us,
or the emotions, the physical strain,
that is made within the weather,
how my bones ache in the sun,
and how my emotions contrast in the rain.
I must take not,
or I shall parish,
or I shall meet my demise,
whether it be at the hands of the blades of grass,
or the conspiracies made from the liars,
or the people,
for I will meet my expiry,
the storybooks have told me so.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC
as a dreamer, in a particle splits the path of thought,
like mud under my fingernails and crystal shells.
Arkansas is driving me insane
come one come all she's the
fare-st if you fall.
neck burned as a fingerprint, itches sore in trash days,
conspiracies and deputies
looking still more strange.
can determined minds build a staircase of reason?
up to a future, teasing
me out in the open
with your temper words.
Nov 21, 2012
Nov 21, 2012 at 3:04 PM UTC
It is up, to the mind,
to take out thoughts, and divide,
all the truth, from the lies,
we are fed, while alive.
For the truth, it will hide,
behind fear, and its lies,
it becomes, hard to find,
so we must, use our minds.
Over time,
it has changed.
History,
rearranged.
Faults by man,
lost in time.
Cover up,
all our crimes.
Generations,
lied to.
By people,
like me and you.
It is up, to the mind,
to take out thoughts, and divide,
all the truth, from the lies,
we are fed, while alive.
For the truth, it will hide,
behind fear, and its lies,
it becomes, hard to find,
so we must, use our minds.
Conspiracies,
built on lies.
**** the truth,
watch it die.
It's time to,
open our eyes.
It's time to,
realize the lies.
It is up, to the mind,
to take out thoughts, and divide,
all the truth, from the lies,
we are fed, while alive.
For the truth, it will hide,
behind fear, and its lies,
it becomes, hard to find,
so we must, use our minds.
Don't let the lies,
penetrate your mind.
Because over time,
they can hypnotize,
they can hypnotize,
they can hypnotize,
the weak mind.
They can hypnotize,
they can hypnotize,
they can hypnotize,
the weak mind.
Mar 12, 2011
Mar 12, 2011 at 7:52 AM UTC
No matter however many conspiracies life weaves,
Whatever tricks it may have up its sleeve,
All the hardships i will cheerfully heave,
I have and will always believe!.
I believe that walking through storms,
Only makes a person clean.
I believe that starving only reforms,
And makes a person fit and lean.
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 12:01 AM UTC
Chatting cold conspiracies from across the coffee table.
Pangaea on the rocks - sweet, sober, civil silence.
When did the degradation become so severe?
Time ticks down and friendships fade to acquaintances.
Spine tingling tempo of the pitter-patter rain drop percussion.
Galloping triplets trickling down from the temples of thunder.
Hands of the clock clap in celebration of another hour killed.
Two o’ clock Coca-Cola to crown the king of carbonation *****
Naming off artists to impress the drunken temptress.
Taunting the room filled with glimmer-eyed, lovestruck libidos.
All the kids are struggling to remember the horoscope they skimmed.
Brains drained to the point of puking in mouths, poisoning the passion.
With whiskey laced erections, this night chants a swansong.
Illegal lane changes and tiptoe key turning roustabouts.
The Hubble eye can’t detect the silent thoughts left hidden.
Dreams within dreams, lost in a cloud of exhaled acceptance.
Tonight, you fizzled, and tonight, you sleep alone.
These are the danger days. Timber!
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 2:43 PM UTC
Live on.. live long..
against all the conspiracies.
Drive far, dive deep..
escaping all that you hold dear.
Running away from your perpetual fears,
hiding from the gaze of your judgmental peers,
restoring safety by going through anonymity's cloud
into the darkness, the scream chills aloud.
Mirror's eyes behold my shape,
it reflects feelings of other's hate.
Unable to find a place to escape,
doors locked all around but the cemetery gate.
I can feel myself being incomplete,
being nothing but a piece of meat.
Acknowledging the potential in me,
My only wish is for it to break free.
But stuck in my own darkness
I lie crying behind that heavy door
between the cowardly sheep and the lion's roar.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 3:35 AM UTC
I wanted answers but all you did was kiss me.
I know that doesn't seem complex,
yet when the twin towers were hit the
conspiracies rose as the people fell.
Who was really in charge of all of this?
I believe that question belonged to both my
situation and the nation.
I thought to myself that you'll talk
and tell me about what was going on in
your mind and if you felt the same way.
But that was like hoping for a blind man to explain
the fear in the people's eyes as they
ran away from the city's blocks of smoke.
For a blind man wouldn't comment on what he couldn't see,
just how you couldn't see how much I cared about you
therefore you didn't comment
let alone compliment.
While they searched for bodies,
I searched for body language.
The aftermath of the towers falling resulted
with no air traffic for a week above the U.S.,
people reported that
the skies had never looked so blue.
I was told the same after the word
"us" had fallen.
I wanted answers but all you did was leave me
with conspiracies questioning if this end was planned.
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 7:31 PM UTC
Fallen words roll steadily of his tongue,
as he sings and swings upon the strings
of a love song that is about to be sung.
But before this song begins, let me remained you,
it is foiled by the sins of useless hearts,
breaking the strings of the violins
that once seemed so pure and clear.
When will you realise, that love like politics
is nothing but a front.
So forget the conspiracies, tear up the theories
of sonnets, both old and young,
and ones that are yet to be sung.
Because that smile, that you think emulates the sun
and creates emotions of fun, right from day one.
Is a nonentity.
With a slightly snarled pursed lip
Pursuing sweet nothing, yet your heart stays eclipsed
and you lean in to kiss.
Then 10 months down the line, you here a chime
you open your eyes, she’s gone, you’re out of time,
and finally you realise,
Love is like politics, it’s nothing but a front.
Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 5:57 AM UTC
Α♥Ω
GNOSIS, my friends, is alive and well,
corrupting the hearts of the masses.
They fashion a fable to fit their need until their crisis passes.
An idol from here and a text from there – just a little dabble do…
for a do-it-yourself epiphany as the counterfeit passes through.
They lose themselves in names and mantras,
thinking they’re mining gold –
while the god of this world enhances the shine of spiritual lies retold.
So get out your old Santana records, pass the **** to the left.
Listen to Jimi and Marley and worse; it will leave your soul bereft.
It’s the same old trip – the first century
has seen all of it come and go:
such transcendent explosions of heresy
are worth less than the price of the show.
In the local body of Iesous Moshiach our pastor has faithfully showed us:
nonsensical notions of Gnostic obnoxiousness
fail to enlighten – but load us
with half-truths and fantasies, cosmic conspiracies,
spiritually false revelation;
which turn on the blacklight and dazzle the mind
but maroon you in dark desolation.
So I’d like to prepare you for several short poems
exploring the way of the Gnostics.
Though I love Elaine Pagels and Demian‘s Hesse,
they fail to provide diagnostics…
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
lessons of life's sanctity,
clarity of reason
and chastity
elude
the sociopath unglued;
clouded lens
filtering threads
of sense
common from extreme,
relishing shreds of conspiracies
unfounded...
tying the falling dow and twin-towers...
to call of duty and
the man....
in the slick blue suit
with the funny last name
sticking it to us,
stripping us of our inalienable rights,
god-given,
taking our bibles and guns away
to mombasa
spiraling memes of dysfunction
programmed to propagate fallacies
in minds unhinged
on the fringes of reality...
like paranoiacs
sipping green tea
or a.m. fanatics
fueling the frenzy
of sociopaths unglued,
licensed to spill
sacred blood
of the masses
at a crowded school
or movie theater
near you
now previewing:
*~ mass homicide XII
&
~ teenage terrorist in black - the sequel*
home-grown
&
fully-loaded...
~ P (Pablo)
(8/5/2013)
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 11:54 AM UTC
My uncle.
Who I love.
Is a peculiar man.
He once told me of the oddest conspiracy.
He said that the reason major governments of the earth don't fight each other constantly, is because the already do.
In space.
Each country has a ship.
Armed and maned to the teeth.
And they just shoot at each other.
Everyday.
And that's how all of the big national disputes were settled.
Star Trek style.
So when I heard this, I tossed my thoughts into the atmosphere.
Letting them swirl and shine among the satellites.
What did they do, up there?
Sitting in their spaceships.
Thinking of each other.
Wondering why they all were stuck in tin can time bombs.
Surrounded by the icy void.
Waiting for their ships to be shot out of the sky.
The debris to fall through children's dreams and shooting stars.
Spitting sparks like ancient dragons.
And these people wait for that.
Hidden from sight and mind.
Only just to shoot at each other.
Over a border, a mans wish, or a loaf of bread.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 11:31 PM UTC
The mind has gone AWOL
Armageddon in the blood crimson gargantuan sky
Black stars from the depth of vacant eyes
Oil rains down in sightless desert heat
The last cigarette inhaled before the bomb detonates
Fortunate sons in the era of friendly fire
Rivals hunt metropolis streets to acquire a living
Anonymous crypts get lost in the politics
Seen convicted through bludgeoned eyes
Honored my name with a plaque on a wall
Documentation of civil declaration
Conformity inspired figurehead of a homeland
Bricks leading up to the footsteps of the Whitehouse
Apr 24, 2011
Apr 24, 2011 at 10:05 AM UTC
you'll never guess what i heard today
endless narratives
encapsulating pointless encounters
passing judgments
handing out ruthless commentary
life lessons
ridiculing those that are different
infringing on the delicate bounds of insanity
infinite meaningless utterances
thoughtful queries
timeless perceptions and interpretations
brilliant phonetics
postulating conspiracies
comical puns, quips, and jabs
underlying assumptions
fascinatingly deceptive and imaginative theories
i hear you
i hear everything you say
but all i needed
was for you to LISTEN
Jan 17, 2011
Jan 17, 2011 at 12:27 PM UTC
We turn trees upside
down
and sideways with strife,
and the battle for the spotlight -
blowing holes in the earth to prove a point
that the "fortunate" are better than those
with voices tied and bound by conspiracies and political regimes.
So we pollute and dilute our resources
to prove that we can inflict change on the way of life,
and the ways of those with less than those on the other coast,
and what if its just your lens that needs turning upside down
to see that the fortunate may not be you and me.
that wealth may not sit in things
and values measure by monetary means
that wealth may not even be
a measurement of the fortunate and lucky.
But those with toes stuck to the earth
and time told not by ticking and flicking hands
but rather by the dependable rising and setting sun,
that just maybe they're the lucky ones,
and what's luck to do with life anyways
if luck is self contrived and inflicted
why not lend notion to finding value not in something that we can power,
and not in something that we can change
with the next wave of rage and flight for a new craze
but rather something that gives us power to breathe and see
the beauty in a sparkling sea
but no, no we cannot see it that way
because our long led wars
to prove that we can control
have lead the dim of the sparkle and the adjustment of the lens
to be so small
that only a bullet can be sent
through to horizon once blue
but now painted in red
by our greed fed actions.
but what is it that they always said?
You've made your bed,
now you must lie in it,
but why not raise our heads,
and greet this new moment
with a new perspective
of changing the aperture of our lens
to allow for a wider view
that goes beyond the understandable
and opens our eyes, our only real lens
to all the lies we've paved this world in
if you could see what I'm desperately trying to plea
than I strongly believe that you and me,
we...we could be the new key
to the world's long muted positivity
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC
she lived alone
by the little glass window
on the 12th floor
always open
seeing every color and stain
of urban life flashing below
across the courtyard
black, white, yellow, brown
and a redhead going down
the block for a ghetto special
4 chicken wings and fries
and fly uncle johnny
in his trench-coat and superslims
running paper slips to the bodega
on the corner of broadway and 5th
and little blues babies in ponytails
doing the double-dutch hustle
a skip and **** away
from motherhood
and radio raheems
peddling mix tapes, joints and conspiracies
to mis-educated teens
flashing silver grills, c's and black stones
under high-top fades and fro's
closing only for hurricanes
and ricochet bullets
permanently when one
caught miss helen in the eye
she lived alone..
~ P
(7/8/2013)
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 5:25 PM UTC