They are known as the controllers
masters of whips end
they look like you,dress like you
they even act like you, but their not

They have one hand opened
the other clenched into a fist
their smiles are sardonic
and they understand not the premise of love

Cold are their hearts in their soulless bodies
and if you smile it does make them cringe
many are high city rollers
if by meaning the controllers

Their little empires pollute the globe
make misery a pure entity
and they gloat as you choke
on fumes of greed

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

Shopping outfashioned hunting and gathering,
Processed beats fresh,
Groceries replaced fruit trees,
Malls superceded forests,
Churches outnumbered temples,
Countries dissolved to territories,
Places devolved to areas,
Paths broke down into highways,
Commodity converted to currency,
Laborers submit to machinery,
Masters engage in humbug,
Apprentices reduced to students,
Knowledge downgraded to education,
And education is deducted to a show of grades,
While schools are the stages,
And the corporate world is the bigger runway,
With work slumped to employment,
Wisdom demoted to profession,
Where in jobs are the only future,
Careers are the only success,
Clicking and pressing buttons are skills,
Computers are correspondent to brains,
Information refers to news reports,
Intelligence means up-to-dateness,
Browsing is preferable to reading,
Studying is in demand more than learning,
Viewing things flashed on screens yields awareness,
Transportation is to traveling,
As buying is to the three basic needs,
And needs embody worldly possessions,
Worldly possessions define happiness,
Happiness is due to selfishness,
Selfishness is traced to the lack of love,
The lack of love draws from the lack of faith,
Because faith stands for religion,
And religion stands for membership,
Where politicians are the gods,
Celebrities are the preachers,
And the preachers are the enemies,
While networking is equal to friendship,
And connection equates to communication,
Experiences require photos,
Memories necessitate uploading,
Souvenirs can be downloaded,
Smartphones are substitute to pets,
Gadgets are toys,
Holding controllers is playing,
Watching TV is exploring the great outdoors,
Internet is recreation,
And technology is a way of life;
While humans are scientists,
Nature is a guinea pig,
And the earth is a laboratory,
Where prices are misidentified for worth,
Processes are miscalculated as progress,
Impoverishment is confused with improvement,
And getting more is mistaken as getting better;
And then we wonder why
Homes have become houses,
Family members have become boarders,
Nations are separate species
Composed of tired and hungry citizens,
Children are monsters
Who are biochemically rascals,
Teenagers are zombies
Whose adventures lead to delinquency,
Adults are robots
Who just clang when touched,
And life is not so simple
As how it is said to be.

BACKGROUND.

I was working at an international airport as a aircraft cleaner, this ment we went on to the planes to clean them before they went on there next flight.

I was the supervisor of a team of 6 that night, so it was my job to go to the aircraft and talk with the number one, (the number one is the head hostess), she told us when we could board the aircraft.

At the door I could see a young girl and a lady, sitting in the front row, I asked the number one if we could board, she told me they are waiting for a wheel chair for the young girl.

The wheel chair did not turn up until after this story.

This is what happened next.

I will pick the story up after my question to the number one.


THE SHORT STORY, OF A TRUE EVENT IN MY LIFE.

I am standing on the aircraft by the young girl and the number one, when I heard the girl say.

MOM! can I see the controls of the plane.

I am not sure if the number one heard this, so I related to her.
She told me she would ask the captain, and left to do so.

I was alone with the girl and the lady, so I spoke to the lady.

Hi i said, where have you come from?

The lady answered, we have been to disney land.

Wow or something like that I said, that must have been fun, the young girl spoke up.

it was, I saw lot of things, Micky Mouse.

I asked the girl her name.

Samantha she said.


At that the number one came back.

And told us, as soon as the wheel chair is here, the captain say you can look at the flight deck.

The young girl said, can I not go now?


I needed to get my cleaning team on the aircraft!

So I said to the number one.
I will carry her to the flight deck if that is ok.

It was agreed.

So I picked up young Samantha, and carried her forward to the flight deck. number one and Lady behind me.

The number one past me, to ask the captain, if this was ok, and it was.

As we entered the captain said, hi my name is John. the young girl said hi my is Samantha, welcome sammy, said the captain.

The co pilot stood up, to give Samantha his seat.

The captain and Sammy talk about the instruments.

The captain still had his head phones around his neck, What are those?

Sammy asked.

That is my contact with the flight controllers he said, can I have a go?  Sammy said.

The captain put on his head phone and asked the control tower, and she did have a go.

Then the wheel chair turned up, and the captain was told by the number one.

You must go now Sammy, thank you John she said, I picked her up from the co-pilots seat,  thanked the captain, and the co-pilot on the way out, also the number one, and took the girl down the plane, Sammy then asked me.

What is your name?

Paul I said, she then said this to me.

Thank you Paul I will remember that the rest of my life, at this the lady burst into tears, I placed Sammy in the wheel chair and walked with them to the exit.

I asked the lady, why do you cry, she told me that Sammy was dyeing of cancer and he flight was for a cure and a trip to disneyland, but the cure, did not work, and Sammy might be dead within the year.

I cried for about an hour!

So what's it they have, what's it all about
Work for the bossman.
Use your brawn Earn your pittance,
Then eat, Pub, drink, **** and pay the bills
Go footie, shout and scream, at one with your tribe
then  go sit in front of the telly, play at family
Week is done
Till the morrow when you do it all again

How about a soap opera, you direct and act
Gotta a Royal down the road ripe for the taking
Lets go invade, see how the other halves lives
Come, lets all join and become Kingmakers
Under our ***** thumbs he goes, we pull the strings
Entertainment for the masses, beats our mundane cages

For once, we are the bosses and can pull the strings
Knowledge is Power and its all here in Mao's Red Book
Lies, fabrication, distortions and misinformation
Disinformation, half-truths, slander it ain't no matter
Everything he says will be taken down and used against him
This is control at our finger tips, this is power to play with
He's going through the Red mill, drilled and ground into dust

Look we've got him as the puppet, we destroy all his trappings
So gather round and join the fun, this is us like God
Lights, action, now you do this and this and watch us play him
what do you mean puppet ain't moving or re-acting
OK let's do this, you go there and you do this and do this now
Still no action, OK let's try this, if you go there and say ah
You drive here, you stand there, you watch here, you stand
Nothing still, OK you come here, you put this here
Still nothing, This puppet is NUMB, this puppetting is no fun

They had drawn up the master plan, written their ****** script
The puppet looked and laughed, what a bunch of prime morons
No substance, no value system, no morality or basic sense
Infantile, one track minded sociopaths full of flaws and manure
Go back to your drinking and ******* and your mundanity
The united pack of crooks, ****, racists and the vacuous coerced

Go look after the Leading Lady stuck with rehearsals and scripts
The imagined romantic interest paying debts for UK residency
Waiting for the Prince to come running and tomfoolery begins
The bit part actors are still playing, too stupid to realize
The control is on them, their time energy and effort all a sham
Our Directors are directing making it up as they go along
The supporting actress are still hopping and hoping
The new characters are still buying false scripts and playing
Playing with themselves as Puppet stands and watches it all

They wheel out their demented scribes and brain dead peoters
To write dirges, glooms, ******* and negativities galore
Casting their dark fantasies and the rancid spittles of their dregs
Muds from the festered pools of their putrid minds dresses up
Ready to visit nightmares of their making from their darknesses
Areas thankfully unknown to a mind and soul untainted, unsoiled
As is their bitter lives, valueless breeding and hate and prejudices One ignorance and neurotic existence, the depravities of depraves..

Poor, poor imbeciles, they really don't have much in their lives
Illusions and delusions by the bucket loads, anything would do
To remove them from their sad, miserable sorry realities
Hey its Clockwork orange, we are all stars in our *****
Diversions to their mundane, unrewarding and depressing realities
Their frustrations and powerlessness, their insignificance
At last a vent for their frustrated lives, miseries loves company
A release valve for pains of centuries being underdogs and serfs
A safe playground for psychos, control and pain in abundance
Let's call it Revolution and add Republic to make it more palatable

Down at the palace of Attrition, a blameless man sits and muses
Crazed dogs of war at the gates, salivating insanely, bloodthirsty
Watching Controllers tieing chains to masses and jerking them
Into frenzied hysteria, nothing beats permitted wickedness shared
Dropping poisons and acids into hungry jaws, patting heads
Shouting rallying calls, we got the Bastille of the blinds going on
Scientists please take notes, this is Herd mentality and Groupthink
This is how to manipulate the masses and incite Hate unawares
Majority wins here, this is Democracy, this is people power

Do, you are ******, don't, you are ******, Hate abides all.
Puppet sees injustices but better to play dumb and numb
They can't abide a black do well, hate spews from fear
Hate festered by the unique decency of a successful blackman
Who had all they wished for but could never have or be
Riddled with lust and envy they merely went on to steal his
But that wasn't enough, the bullies and cowards had to ruin.
Under the pretext of them and us, blue versus Red they lied
Rabid racists takes another black man down, green bottle falls

Man proposes, God disposes, UK, KKK now play god
Thy will will be done O'Lord, I am but your servant
It's rather flattering being The Real Deal in this production
Confirmation of differences betwixt Gifted and the Depraves
A Travesty full of sound, false images and fury by the loonies
A Red Racist Production by Idiots and psychos for fools and sociopaths.

Lights, camera, action
Yawn.......................

Where I’m From
I am from wires,
from electricity and TV screens.
I am from the dust covering the console.
(Piled high, thick,
It made me sneeze)
I am from the Sega Genesis
the Nintendo
Who has long been forgotten
amongst the shiny new games.

I am from controllers and memory cards,
From Mario and Sonic.
I’m from the ******* gamers,
And the once-in-a-whiles,
From You win! And Game over!
I’m from Thou saveth the princess
With Donkey and Diddy
And 10 cheats I know by heart.

I’m from GameStop and Best Buy,
brand new plastic and overheating console.
From the controller thrown across the room
To the memories,
bonding brother and sister.

In my closet is a box,
filled with old games,
scratched up discs
that will never again work
I am from these games
created before I was born,
born from the tree of electronics.

summer, spring, winter, fall,
it always carried a whiff of cleanliness, like lysol,
bleach and daffodils had made a not so secret love
child.
there were never any marks. no signs of mistakes,
accidents, humanity.
the floors glistened like the sun beaming off a black
convertible.
the windows, you couldn’t even tell they were
windows. not without the panes.
transparent like the shores of the Mediterranean.
I never touched anything.
I held my breath among glass, ornaments, picture frames.
afraid one intake would show up like a smudge that could
never be wiped off, no matter how much one tried.
she fits the house. like those china dolls, polished to perfection.
blonde hair rolled in unison curls. no frizz. never any
fly aways.
face just like those windows, eyes raging in a storm too far away.


his room was the only one i could sink in.
legos scattered
(i always stepped on the yellow ones)
clothes fuming with dirt and almost manhood.
his posters crooked, carrying characters dressed in
armor, or tuxedos, animated, weapons in hand.
his bed, never made, incasing the last impression of his body
(he always slept on his side)
a spot of drool still visible, blankets holding his scent.
soap, laundry detergent and oranges.
game controllers trashed, bite marks, dents, too many battles.
i finally breathed when i walked in.

Player one, player two.
Who will you choose?
You've been switching the controllers,
And leaving us confused.
I load up the game
To find someone else's save.
Are you an NPC or boss monster?
You're so much more depraved

Player one, player two.
Who did you choose?
I don't see any winner.
In the end, both players lose.

ropes so tight and knotted
re- tightened
every hint of freedom detected
The power of the captor
captured inside their own web weaved
and all others who happen that way
unsuspecting caught and dream of freedom
and dream of freedom and dream of freedom
and finally break away

whoever it is that chooses the 'news'
the TV controllers, the deciders of what's worthy but not necessarily 'new'
the rolling banter of newsreaders on repeat

whoever it is who gives everything their OK
before its screened all over the World

I would suggest have a very strange idea of what's important in the lives of most of those on planet Earth.

Everything, and everyone has a price; however, most bills are overdue. I have put myself in every situation necessary to gain opportunities. To those opportunities, I throw in a bid. To those bids, I place an unmeasured but respectable effort. This bill is still due. The ladder will be climbed. The plateau will be reached: Gaining and assigning costs. Sadly, where I cannot help but stumble, and never collect, I tread. As I walk, the soppy mud pulls down at my heals. There is no exit aside from the direction I came.

This is Pursuit.

I can name heroes, such as Alvin C York, who gave up the pen and took up a rifle, leading 100’s of men through respect and fear. I read that he was a teacher that volunteered for the first World War and captured over 130 men single handed. I can work canned equations that will tell me the declining chances as the hours near closing in my office that my phone will ring. I can cite tax regulation in context to a very defined, specialized and rarely referenced subject matter. I can draw on these lessons the way a craftsman draws his tool belt; I cannot explain hours spent or define with any reason one subject matter.

This is Woman.

Far more time is wasted than spent, yet somewhere, somehow, collected. I’ve spent on the perfect screens to distract myself from this fact alone. Most men do not chase a dream they have not experienced; ignorance is bliss. Within men that try, dressing as casual as one can afford and resting their beaten hands on electronic controllers, one may find a survivor. This man will climb blindly, because he has only ever know spending. He will spend blood, sweat, tears and time to never be vulnerable. The act of collecting becomes nothing more than the means to spending, and he will never let be.

This is Myself.

I have turned off the news. I have separated ways with those that need to surpass trivial, arbitrary hurdles. I will spend down on screens no longer. I have stopped broadcasting the news. I can feel myself exiting society. Like many men before me, I have begun to pack my bags for checkout. There is no blame. There is no hate. There is no expectation. Dreams. Goals. Responsibilities. A man cannot live on food and shelter alone. He cannot pick up discarded pieces of society that are not worth their weight. This man cannot die for anyone that would not live for him.

This is My Decree.

Signed,

Without Notoriety

Players,
Upon people’s weaknesses they play.
Tramplers,
Upon people’s happiness they trample upon.

They preach,
Oh they preach,
Preachers of men,
Preaching their manifestos.

Their mass oppressions,
A whipstroke of slavery,
Keeping freedom away,
Allowing unspoken speeches.

Mr. Government!
Your planting of truth,
Yet acting lies,
Like Lucifer upon earth.

Our lost lands,
The cornering of leaders.
Our cherished freedom,
The bounds of greedy mortals.

Their moral compass,
A dumpling for gutters.
The words of restructuring,
A lie they tell to sleep at night.

The revolting of souls,
A bribery round the corner.
The dawn of a new day,
A shutting down of a never casted dye.

The Bantu they throw at us,
An education of their disloyalty.
Equality they preach,
Yet enjoying the fruits of our labour.

Our heroes past,
A burden dropped,
To be forgotten,
Yet remembered for belly sake.

Me, My belly and I,
A stomach infrastructure,
Catering only to the rich,
Yet diminishing the poor.

The controllers of affairs,
Dictating one’s future
Offering obedient slaves,
A slaughtering for their ****** souls.

Their theatre signatory,
A passing for comedy.
Our leaders,
A legacy of betrayal.

The citations of a bad fruit,
Their forever plantings,
Bringing over odour,
Of sadness and slavery.

An act of niceness,
Yet taking my bones at every given chance.
Giving us no choice,
Yet claiming we have no bounds.

Stirring us along
Giving us hope
Talking of a bright light,
Yet sinking in your treacherous torture.

Stealing of freedom from our lips
Pushing us into the dark quarters
Digging our early graves,
Yet cometh like a Redeemer.

Telling us of your democracy,
Yet ripping off our fundamental rights.
Your dictatorship,
Creating our unfree society.

Coming out,
Telling us of our victorious times,
A bribery to generations,
Yet helping to dig out graves.

Giving heart-warming patriotic speeches
Telling us not to be afraid,
Portraying tunnels of hope,
A bribery we didn’t reject.

Your illusion of a god-complex
Crushing everything in your path
Giving false hope
A mockery we carry on our foreheads

Our daily tyrants,
Walking freely,
Taking slaves,
Yet leaving no man to rise.

We envisaged a better tomorrow
Leaving the past behind
Creating new dreams
A dream you cut short

Our pens as placards
Establishing dictatorship
Safeguarding a revolution
Writing hopes of tomorrow

Your speeches
Bringing apathetic graves
Letting out your brutality
Showing life’s forces

You stand on the hill
Shouting your command
We all gather in fear
Singing silently “dictatorship free us now”

Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson

Let us Rise and Rejoice for the Wise Controllers of the Streets
Please give praise for the Keepers of Asinine Righteousness
Who have the power to read our minds easy as giving sweets
Esteemed Professors who are  World Experts with Greatness
In Neuro-linguistic programming and know all the upbeats

For example anybody with working eyes can see with no cheats
The woman's complexions is not Black even without clearness
Alas I make a joke and  lightheartedly say its Black in mirths
Nobel NLP Programmers jump in glee and frenzied eagerness
That is Trigger to void progressive actions with that lady petite

So Professors et vacuous masses devoid of brains go on heats
Sprinkling Blacks all over in project as useless as their dumbness
Tell not dorks I do not see her as black in any way but a tease
Another deluded wasted efforts from the addicted mindlesses
The poor lass graced with honey-gold skin tone is not for meets

Crass semi-illiterates play mind games on levels of bog peats
Psychotic obsessed nonentities with deluded tendentiousness
As if there's a meeting of minds with piffling anodyne greats
Dumbos declaring we are playing with your mind in earness
Show me how a genius compares with Quixotic foolishness

Take control of your fate
Entering the virtual world
You're here for the adventure
And the challenge ahead

Interact with a new place
With the action around
Burning towards your face
Until we shake and break the ground

We shall raise our fists
Onto the air
As we shout it out loud
COME ON!!!!

(Chorus)---

Gamers never play on easy mode
Crank that difficulty and start again
Gamers never play on easy mode
Warriors must strive through the pain
LET'S PLAY THAT GAME ONCE MORE
------------------

Take control of your destiny
Let the fire ride on in the soul
Embark towards the goal
We shall rise and never fall

Together, we become one
As the game lives on
Find another path after we won
Sometimes...
You have to fight alone

Grab your controllers high
The station is running wild
WE SHALL CONTINUE
AFTER WE DIE
LET'S GO!!!

(Chorus)

(Guitar Solo)

Grab your controllers high
The station is running wild
WE SHALL CONTINUE
AFTER WE DIE
LET'S GO!!!

(Chorus)

Gamers never play
Oh yeah!!!
Gamers never play
Oh yeah!!!
GAMERS NEVER PLAY
(ON EASY MODE)
PUT UP THE CHALLENGE!!!!

GAMERS!!!
GAMERS!!!
NEVER
PLAY
ON
EASY MODE
CRANK THAT ****** UP!!!

(Outro Guitar Solo)

I am long an elegant slender queen with
my beautiful pebble ash marble skin.  
And as we rest on the ground lightly
I hold it softly rising like cream and
the finest queen.
As I rise, our eyes become locked welded
together by light we become one.
Together we both look into the world
and into each other.
And I tell you this when this happens I
can be your teacher but I can also be your
pupil.

For I am the Cobra often here as a maintainer as I
rise a thousand soldiers stand to attention.
Cogs are oiled all forgotten becomes remembered
as all souls remember their purpose.
For I am the eyes of GOD.
As I appear all disharmony lifts like an early
morning mist as all slots into place.
All shepherds find their lost sheep and all
the world strays quickly hurry
home.
Attracted to me you maybe but some how
you find you are frozen.   
I may not be your lover but I can protect the
lily flower from which your
love can grow from.

Follow me and you may sometimes not
know if I am GOD or the Devil as all I
can promise is that you will grow.
As it sometimes takes a snake to catch
a snake I can be your hired hand your
mercenary, snake my favorite meal.
For giant economic models, political systems
will all fall as I can land an elephant
if I have to.
So be careful what you stand on because I
rise out nothing to six foot tall.  
And you will have a choice do I become
your antidote or your poison.

The world will give the childish game of
winning and loosing and I give you the
maturity transcending and evolving.
Wrapped and curled on the earth I will
show you how deeper is much higher.
As we let go of the old I will show you
how to find the antidote by diving deeply
into my poison.
A controllers nightmare as I change myself
completely 4 times a year think you have got me
or is it just a mouthful of old skin as you
are so so yesterday.
Maybe cause a revolution help create some
progress teach the working class to rise
like a King Cobra's.

I will take you to the next plane as we
forget the past like an old skin.
As I transport you through space and time
like Doctor who in his Tardis
But move into disorder and you may feel
the striking force of Kali and Shiva

I can take you out of your revolving door
of life and death you are stuck in
and take you onto the
highway up to heaven.
Stick with me and you will ride on the arrow
head of evolution.  
So let my energies flow like a spiraling tornado
and we can move to the next level.


Whether King or Queen there is so much
to learn from the
Beautiful  COBRA

There is power within the people.
Not the politicians.

Witness this political climate.
Federal employees on furlough without pay.

TSA employees calling out.
But it was the airline traffic controllers that could have halted it all.

Not a single plane could take flight.
While the elected fools fight.
No pay, no work.

Even the president protection squad could halted his travel.
With just the phase for your safety sir stay within the White House.

ANOTHER SIGN THAT THE POWER IS WITHIN THE PEOPLE.

The group always proposing walls and segregation camps?
Should be the ones assigned to feel the agony of the hurt and pain.

Waltz of
humanity.
Spinning.
Spinning
out of the
goo. Landing
on our feet.
Look around
then organize.
Organize to
survive.
Organization
requires
hierarchy.
Hierarchy
requires power,
power to
control.
Humanity
controlling
humanity.
Structures
with controls.
Some telling
others what
to do.
Power to
control.
The few
controlling
the many.
Always, controllers
controlling.
Doing, saying
whatever it takes
to control.
Kneel and bow
do as you’re
told.
Flaw, control
going viral
planet wide
technology enhanced.
Subjugate whole
with control.
Sad times ahead.

Marry me,carry me over the
threshold.
Be bold, be strong,be true and I will ask if you will,
will you answer,
'I do'.

The air traffic controllers had gone out on strike
we arrived at the airport
but sadly no flight,
but it's sure to not spoil our honeymoon night,
and tomorrow
we might go to Bognor.

His chest moves
upwards then inwards
as a man
would wave
from left to right,

when every breath he borrows
from the atmosphere
is returned
back to where
it once came from.

His mind presents itself
as a knot
to untie
rather than a melody
to twirl to,

And perhaps, this is why
he snores asleep.
Every ten minutes : A Thunder
striking for a second
or two.

He resembles a glass of water
in which the liquid seems clear
though present,
eventually evaporating
as the tasks
he ticks of the lists
every time
his eyes wake

from the dilemma
of justice
in a city
degrading
the artists and the painters,
the poets and the dreamers,
the physicists and the biologists,

whilst praising
corporations handing titles to
women as
inert particles
flying off a boiling ***,
and men,
as the controllers
in a virtual video game,

He wasn't dreaming.

Why is it so, Oh why is it so
That the owners of capital
Inevitably grow
To be possessors of everything
Strategically placed,
Solidly, tangibly
Gunmetal faced?

Owners of newspapers
Head of TV,
Masters of radio
Commercial and free.
Dispensers of policy
Spreaders of gloss,
Keep movers informed
Keep fools at a loss.

Like a puppeteer General
Manipulate strings
Of artillery thunder
And stratosphere wings.
Subliminal ownership
Military wise
Guarantees power
And fortifies ties.

Holding the cards
In Congressional spheres
Ensures positive influence
To leadership ears.
Holding sway
In the ship of state
Commands control
Of those who rate.

Power to publish,
Power to spin,
Manipulative power
To politically win.
Power to generate
Mountains of wealth,
Marauding powers
Of infinite stealth.

Solidly, tangibly
Gunmetal faced,
Owners of capital
Strategically placed.
Controllers of influence
Puller of strings,
Powerful Anchors
...Societal Kings.


Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
23 March 2009

I am long an elegant slender queen with
my beautiful pebble ash marble skin.  
And as we rest on the ground lightly
I hold it softly rising like cream and
the finest queen.
As I rise, our eyes become locked welded
together by light we become one.
Together we both look into the world
and into each other.
And I tell you this when this happens I
can be your teacher but I can also be your
pupil.

For I am the Cobra often here as a maintainer as I
rise a thousand soldiers stand to attention.
Cogs are oiled all forgotten becomes remembered
as all souls remember their purpose.
For I am the eyes of GOD.
As I appear all disharmony lifts like an early
morning mist as all slots into place.
All shepherds find their lost sheep and all
the world strays quickly hurry
home.
Attracted to me you maybe but some how
you find you are frozen.  
I may not be your lover but I can protect the
lily flower from which your
love can grow from.

Follow me and you may sometimes not
know if I am GOD or the Devil as all I
can promise is that you will grow.
As it sometimes takes a snake to catch
a snake I can be your hired hand your
mercenary, snake my favorite meal.
For giant economic models, political systems
will all fall as I can land an elephant
if I have to.
So be careful what you stand on because I
rise out nothing to six foot tall.  
And you will have a choice do I become
your antidote or your poison.

The world will give the childish game of
winning and loosing and I give you the
maturity transcending and evolving.
Wrapped and curled on the earth I will
show you how deeper is much higher.
As we let go of the old I will show you
how to find the antidote by diving deeply
into my poison.
A controllers nightmare as I change myself
completely 4 times a year think you have got me
or is it just a mouthful of old skin as you
are so so yesterday.
Maybe cause a revolution help create some
progress teach the working class to rise
like a King Cobra's.

I will take you to the next plane as we
forget the past like an old skin.
As I transport you through space and time
like Doctor who in his Tardis
But move into disorder and you may feel
the striking force of Kali and Shiva

I can take you out of your revolving door
of life and death you are stuck in
and take you onto the
highway up to heaven.
Stick with me and you will ride on the arrow
head of evolution.  
So let my energies flow like a spiraling tornado
and we can move to the next level.


Whether King or Queen there is so much
to learn from the
Beautiful  COBRA

(Frederick and Matthew entered the forest. They decided to find all Surah’s secrets.)
For Frederick and Matthew, the time of following Surah and Clayton
Without getting caught started. Wanting their arrows to straighten,
They stopped into the wood. They found some pieces of soapstone.
While making the grooves, they looked for the witch in the zone.

'She's not here,' said Matthew,' let's go to evaluate the mining claim.'
'She's hiding, because her everything, now, is a waiting game.'
On horseback and having hunting dogs as companions, they ventured
Deeply into that forest. ‘Surah is angry, because, she is censured.'

The disciplinary controllers of manners and mores had great powers
In her degradation as a noble from her proper class. In the tower's
Prison must stay those affecting the moral welfare of the kingdom.'
'Excommunication is usually used against those acting without wisdom.'

As they made their way close to the mountain's crest, they observed
A cave tucked behind a waterfall. 'So well these fossils are preserved!'
Said Matthew after entering the cave, and finding two big rooms.
‘I think these two chambers were destined to serve as tombs.

For sure, we're not the first humans who visited this part of the cave....’
'If a rock fractures, and collapses now, can we call ourselves brave?
Frederick smiled, ‘It’s great to be brave, while you're still alive.
We must find all the secrets of this cave; thus, we must contrive.'

While exploring the cave, they realized they couldn't find the way out it.
‘You cannot find the way out, because this passage is not brightly lit.'
They searched for an exit, until their lighting was almost spent,
But the dogs led them to the lake knowing to track by scent.

'Move slowly, keep your eyes open, and stop moving things,    
Before you hear what else might move....’'I need some water wings!
Here is a boat!' 'Look on the walls, huge lamps hang on them!
‘We can see now!’’ Look on the ceiling!' ‘I found a Rubin gem!'

'It’s strange that the cave is situated in-between a lake and a waterfall.
Must be a treasure, or maybe a clue hidden in this cave. Check the wall!’
'I found a steel door. It’s rusted shut, and it will not open for me.'
'You're going to need to oil the hinges. Take oil from the lamp. It's free!’

Frederick climbed up the stairs of the tower to get into a room.
He saw Jezebel laid on her bed while sleeping as waiting for her groom.
He understood, in that moment, Surah’s cruel, dangerous game.
She sold her soul to the demon, and sacrificed her family for fame.

’Frederick, come here to see something you have never seen before!’
‘We found a treasure that Surah needed to hide because of that war!’
In a space between walls were hidden thousands pieces of gold.
They found a treasure-filled tunnel. ‘Her suffering was well consoled!’

(Meanwhile, the archbishop was talking with Clara, and Sarah.)
’Mary is ill, and she thinks that she will die soon’, Sarah told him.
‘We must pray for her life’,’ Day by day, her recovery chances slim.’
‘Surah, her sister, how is she? Does she look for a good way of life?
‘She believes in a good way to die. Her life is a ***** strife.’

’It’s hard to bring back a guilty person to another good sense
Of her spiritual condition. All she is doing is to act in self-defense.’
'Surah's punishment should allow other evil-doers to be deterred.
She was persistent in her criminal course, ‘and his words weren’t slurred.

(The archbishop continued to tell them his opinion.)

'There must be a just proportion between the penalty and the crime
Like excommunication and deprivation of spiritual goods for a long time.'
In addition to seeking the return of its properties and assets, the church
Must find its lost documents and values. It needs new rights of search.'

To be continued..tomorrow

N64 Flow

Controllers Rattling
Mario Battling Bowser
Solar Traveling
Star Foxin for hours

Toy Boxes, Trinkets, and World watches

Sipping Soda fizzing
Eating crunchy Frito Snippets
Watching ***** Wonka
wishing I had a golden ticket

Scraped knees, Bicycle Tracking
Wilds woods equal childhood
Blueberry & cheery picking

Kisses from a girl who was
older are still vivid
No witnesses were present, but presents were still given

In the form of innocence
It's was nothing but child play
Assorted memories
Become a part of my current day

Who's to say that I've changed?

As I reminisce, my past was forged of oddities, deceptions of tall tales and everyday Odyssey's

Pictures of wild women, explicit *******,
Disney diluted story's and fictional prophecies

Depictions that lacked religion
Late night Toonami dreams

Insights from other youth
that didn't make sense logically

Visits to the water fountain periodically

Teacher said there's no such thing as dumb questions

but they never answered honestly

Everything I've learned from life
I've already learned from Monopoly

I'm always landing on GO,
therefore I'm moving with the green

House rules obviously

You can interpret that as currency
in our current state physically

But I just see it as a
constant stream of positivity

To create is a state that is channeled by electricity

Childhood memories is my youths ticket for authenticity

Those days were full of fun and madness

This excitement couldn't have been replicated by a smartphone nor tablet

Sunshine & green grass actual outdoor access

Inhale curiosity, exhale the astonishing

Running at full speed, gunning at high velocity

The excitement was never ending
a continuous lottery

Summer books I would never read

Instead, I drew in the summer breeze

Illustrations of disfigured stick figure's and murderous scenes

I realize that I have no idea, who I'm destined to be
I don't know where my next travels will lead

I am but nomad upon a land with no wagon or steed

**** these contraptions for my actions speak louder then screens

An N64 and one controller is all I need

If i could turn back time,
I want to be the kid who cries over toys,
Not flaws.

If i could turn back time,
I want to laugh until breathing becomes hard,
Not to hide my pain.

If i could turn back time,
I want to turn on the mp3 so i can dance to it,
Not to control my tears.

If i could turn back time,
I want to stay up late using my controllers,
Not pencils.

Empty feelings, hopeless journey.
Invisible existence, slowly fading.
Living in a cruel world,
I'm a dreamer in the darkest reality.

We went from “who loves orange soda?” to take a shot for me.
To waiting in lines at the DMV, from waiting in lines at the school dance like “bruh hold my spot for me”
From N64 controllers to leasing a Toyota Corolla
Dealing with these adult life problems we don’t have no control of

From pillow forts to the rents due
From action figures to hopes of six figures
From razor scooters to shaving with razors
From love letters to car notes
crazy right?

The only losses we worried about were argued through Rock Paper Scissors.
Now we worry about losing jobs, material things and on the news daily we lose our brothers and sisters.

The only pain we felt was scraping our knees on the concrete.
Now we scrape change tryna pay the bills hoping that our ends meet.
I wish I could go back, I close my eyez with my memories and feel gratification.
And the thing I miss most of all at that tender age is my imagination

I can’t believe I couldn’t wait to get big

Most weekends I’d go hang out
with my brother Donte and play
video games on the PlayStation 2,
our hands clutching the controllers
uncontrollably.

And as we sat in front of the big
screen TV playing Grand Theft Auto:
San Andreas, there was a gleaming
glow in our serene faces.

We could feel the exhilarating
excitement soaring through
our veins, bursting hearts alive
in the moment, breathing in every
winning second.

When we grew tired of playing
the game, we’d take a walk down
the city streets and giggle about
the most random subjects.

And when night finally came,
we’d take several snapshots
together, my brother holding
the camera in his hands,
pressing the shutter button
of a lasting memory that
would always stay stamped
on our chests.

there’s a piece of
toilet paper
wedged in the toilet
hole

the music sounds
beautiful and sings
out my
speakers

dusk and dawn
are the same

there is black paper too

trumpets are the answer
to all the troubles in the
world

the internet is failing
and the system is corrupt

when we are not ourselves
but who we are connected to
we have ascended the
individual

the bottle is simple
yet perfect

the laugh is needed

sleep is an inevitability
reading a gateway drug
and family reads like an
autopsy report

the can, the sticker, the
empty pack, the deck of
cards, the plastic shades

there are empty glasses
and empty eyes

the mirror and the rock
are friends now

cough drops are a poison,
it’s written on the box.

keys to a car

doors that shut and lock
and can be opened if you
wiggle the ****

controllers control
nothing

eat your fate young child
the only solution is the fat

jokes in denial
humor in despair
tragedy is useless
comedy a joke

we say lines and
remember blocking
but the meaning is
lost somewhere in
the mist of person

you can hear the piano
but not the voice,
the telephone begs you
not to die

eat your fate,
speak your mind,
there’s a piece of
toilet paper stuck
in the toilet
hole

behind you
(and in front)
is everything,
nothing,
something,
everything,
something,
anything,
­
and

nothing

Friday morning.
Sun shining brightly.
Train jolted to a sudden halt.
Guard announced over tannoy.
Somewhat garbled.
Sorry ladies and gents.
'We have an issue'.
Can go no further.
Moaning morning service users.
Became somewhat foul mouthed abusers.

Hey guard, what's happening'.
Can't open the doors.
Stuck in this spot.
'Okay ladies and gents I'll level'.
There's a swan on the track.
Our path is blocked.
With a concerned voice he announced.
My fat controllers agreed.
These doors can be undone.
Morning commuters all begone.

Stepped from the train.
Peeped to right.
In front of my eyes a magical site.
Cygnet sat.
Greyish brown on the rails.
Waterloo train.
Held to ransom.
A foot away from death he sat.
Not flustered.
Guarded by the queen.

Went to work.
Cared all day
About how swan got taken away that day.
On way home
Asked the staff.
Relieved at last.
Taken away safe and sound.
Now I smile!





By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

In the presence of any hearing ear or seeing eye,
the oldest man in the room stood and said,

I suggest a motion be made that:
This proven means of reaching a realizable samesame state
of peace and freedom, 'mongst beings of all
breeds tested as sapient and unem us augmentedus,

be administered free at any seven one eighty Fibbo equipped
joy ride facility.

The Motion:
All peace negotiations,
all settling negotiations
on earth,
must now be preceded by
a ranked pairing of the parties,
{what if wit life partners, so we have a four wide}

Yeah, pairs of plus ones, two by two

most worthy of admiration and respect and trust
ranked order,

let the first rank step into the car. wait for the message.
YOUR BODY IS LOCKED IN< YOU CANNOT DIE ON THIS RIDE

each rank takes its place, reads and and agreed terms of unbelief release.
combine con questseers haulin
ah questions mistook
for quests... happens, but

that ranked the riders? the waring bros. us the unem
of four are in car one,
Aha, the roller coaster Poke'mon, as Grandpa

suggested, in the entrancment lesson, did you hear that story?g
This is no linked, but generally,

breadcrumb... weak link back... but later

this is the chunk chunk chunk cogged rotation
of gears in gears meshing

chunk, chunk, chunk to the peak the initial
wave on the Fibbonaci ***** with
one eighty per twist time s

seven,
we endure... ah it is not we riding, ha, I for got
virtual reality, by god, i'd say
pretty good, too.

and we, no, they are upside down, which was the intention,
the whole party of peace negotiators

realize
the terms of agreement
and the benefit of proper ranking
{discounting **** in a coriolis sorta swirl, that shall hap, watch}

Before the pen and ink and all our augmented eyes everseeing witness
war is stupid and too costly at this phase to waste any more unexamind lives on,

beacause we can. We agree, we. the people, peacemakers are

and peacekeepers be... we,

the controllers of every mob on earth, we bodies of words in minds.
War now is as useless as smallpox and polio in bubbles
of babies
where peacemaking is set to kick in after terrible twos,
epigenetically, but  set with the polio vaccine, prenatal-mods hapt in the moms with
the Mario plumbing level.

We are getting better results. At five they are inquisitive,
and comprehend portals need means of access
which must be learned while find ing
messages with
synchronus meaning.

Now, then, that means
something real but we don't know what, yet, grandpa, don't

--soto voce', {golf-whisper}
the key to this portal,
long still being a true let be-er,

but meaning is imagined in the games,
my seven grand children all were born after 3g.
these fresh augmented us, mentally, more than we could think or ask.
They find meaning faster than
we found it in **** and Jane, and The Little Red Hen

The future is bright. Not a big bang. Not even a pop. A sigh,
of satisfaction. Believe it or die, eventually, wishing you had examined
life more close-up, earlier.

Fret not. Later is as real as you can realize. Watch and see.

The Rain tried to find its way into the very depth of the souls, sneering at the gloomy faces of people who were walking through water. Unexpectedly a sudden clear laugh of a boy who jumped into a puddle mocked all His aspirations.

With an increased force the Rain turned into a wall of water pushing the pedestrians into the open doors of the shops, blocking the traffic and confusing the air controllers at an airport nearby.

Seizing for a moment almost absolute power over the world, the Rain suddenly felt bored and first burst out into numerous crossing lines, then calmed down and throwing the last blast of wind with water drops at the running boy, He sighed in despair and having banged few open windows He disappeared, staying for a moment in thick eye-lashes of a girl who was adjusting her make up.