"dealers" poems
Dear ****
**** you and your devilish traps
thanks for making my good days go to crap
thanks for separating me from my mother,
for making me look like a **** up to my brother
thanks for the addiction I have to face
you really did take me to another place
thanks for making me into the person I am
at least you never made me slam
thanks for making me stay up for a week or two
you showed me that I got nothing to lose
thanks for putting shadows in front of my eyes
but if it wasn’t for that I wouldn’t have realized my lies
I now put a gat in the side of my lap
cause I can’t even sleep or even take a nap
I’m always moving around , where ever it is you take me
bringing me to my dealers house making me beg on my knees
even if it’s just leftover’s, crumpled up in aluminum foil
Now I pick my arms because I think it begins to boil
I’m known as the black sheep in my family
you made my life a ****** up tragedy
The scars you caused aren’t only visible but mental
Thank god I stopped before I melted my dentals
There’s still a voice in my head telling me not to leave you
but I want to start my actual life, I want to be someone new
I thank you for the **** caused, for the mistakes you made me do
But I’m leaving you now, one last thing, **** you.
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
I take a walk into the parkour graveyard,
looking for Polish dealers and cellphone halos.
I heard Thoth resides in sobriety,
but words fail me
whenever you are near.
I let my tongue run in endless stutters,
disguising 'I love you' as some off-hand request.
I could take you to dinner,
I could show you a longing
without the need for ***
This late-night food has lost its flavour.
This ***** call never picked up.
All that is left is to dial these numbers,
and wait by the window
for any car but yours.
Let's take a walk to the railway bridge.
We'll smoke a joint by the open forest.
You'll push your breath into mine,
make me high,
and forget why I ever
felt so low.
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC
The walls screamed poetry disease & ***
an inner whine like a mad machine -
dropped in a
cave of roaches
or rodents
The Computer
faces of the men
The wall collage
reading matter
The Traders (dealers)
~~~
I am a guide to the labyrinth
Come & see me
in the green hotel
Rm. 32
I will be there after 9:30 p.m.
I will show you the girl of the ghetto
I will show you the burning well
I will show you strange people
haunted, beast-like, on the
verge of evolution
-Fear The Lords who are
secret among us
~~~
Leaving the phone-booth, I was
Struck by a whiff of
the weird.
Insane old country woman
come to nag the haunts
of town
Hairy legs w/open sores.
From what swamp or under-rock
did you crawl to remind
us what we choose
to leave
13.8k
In nineteen hundred forty-nine
China was won by Mao Tse-tung
Chiang Kai-shek's army ran away
They were waiting there in Thailand yesterday
Supported by the CIA
Pushing junk down Thailand way
First they stole from the Meo Tribes
Up in the hills they started taking bribes
Then they sent their soldiers up to Shan
Collecting ***** to send to The Man
Pushing junk in Bangkok yesterday
Supported by the CIA
Brought their jam on mule trains down
To Chiang Rai that's a railroad town
Sold it next to the police chief brain
He took it to town on the choochoo train
Trafficking dope to Bangkok all day
Supported by the CIA
The policeman's name was Mr. Phao
He peddled dope grand scale and how
Chief of border customs paid
By Central Intelligence's U.S. A.I.D.
The whole operation, Newspapers say
Supported by the CIA
He got so sloppy & peddled so loose
He busted himself & cooked his own goose
Took the reward for an ***** load
Seizing his own haul which same he resold
Big time pusher for a decade turned grey
Working for the CIA
Touby Lyfong he worked for the French
A big fat man liked to dine & *****
Prince of the Meos he grew black mud
Till ***** flowed through the land like a flood
Communists came and chased the French away
So Touby took a job with the CIA
The whole operation fell in to chaos
Till U.S. Intelligence came into Laos
I'll tell you no lie I'm a true American
Our big pusher there was Phoumi Nosovan
All them Princes in a power play
But Phoumi was the man for the CIA
And his best friend General Vang Pao
Ran the Meo army like a sacred cow
Helicopter smugglers filled Long Cheng's bars
In Xieng Quang province on the Plain of Jars
It started in secret they were fighting yesterday
Clandestine secret army of the CIA
All through the Sixties the Dope flew free
Thru Tan Son Nhut Saigon to Marshal Ky
Air America followed through
Transporting confiture for President Thieu
All these Dealers were decades and yesterday
The Indochinese mob of the U.S. CIA
Operation Haylift Offisir Wm. Colby
Saw Marshal Ky fly ***** Mr. Mustard told me
Indochina desk he was Chief of ***** Tricks
"Hitchhiking" with dope pushers was how he got his fix
Subsidizing traffickers to drive the Reds away
Till Colby was the head of the CIA
January 1972
10.1k
Wrenches clanging, knuckles banging
A drop of blood
A new part here, and old part… there
A hotrod had been built!
A patchwork, mechanical, quilt
I drove past the banner that said “Welcome Race Fans”
Took a new route, behind the grandstands
And through my chipped window, I thought I could see
Some of the racers were laughing at me
I guess chalky grey primer is not to their taste
But I put my bucks mister in the right place
I chugged-popped past cars that dealers had sold
Swung into a spot, next to something old
Emerging with interest from under his hood
My neighbor said two words, he said “sounds good”
The voice on the loudspeaker tells us we’re up
Pre-staged, staged, then given the green
The line becomes blurred between man and machine
Bones become linkage
Muscle, spring
Fear, excitement
Time distorts ….
Color disappears …
Vision narrows…
Noise --- becomes music
Speed --- satisfaction
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 11:36 AM UTC
I miss the playground as it used to be,
Laughter, fun and frivolity,
Sliding down and spinning 'round,
Chasing the breeze and winning the race,
Hope was written on my face.
I see the playground as i wish it were,
Children playing and running free,
Climbing the trees and smiling,
Collecting the conkers and the dreams,
It's not how it once did seem.
I'm in the playground with my adult eyes,
Dealers, knives and the addiction,
Crashing down and going mad,
With legs of lead and vision so blurred,
If i had screamed...no one heard.
I'm in the playground with my fear and hate,
Shooting up and going under,
Paying but the money's gone,
Needing to slide when i'm feeling high,
I have kissed my past goodbye.
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 3:39 PM UTC
Dr. King said “I have a dream”,
But his dream suffered homicide in the streets of our nightmares.
Murdered by the people who were supposed to protect us.
336 innocent people killed in 2015, because the police saw color instead of people,
I suppose the color of their skin was more important than human rights.
Because someone's melanin pigment spoke more to how people perceived them than did the color of their character.
So much has changed, but we’re not done yet.
There are still racists hiding behind screens, and cops who refuse body cams.
The white man in blue suits killings brown kid’s dreams, murdering their moments and god ****
Dr. King’s dream of peace and harmony dies in the eyes of every American citizen.
You know things ain’t right when you are more worried about your boyfriend with cops than with drug dealers.
You know something is wrong when walking with him at night is more dangerous for him than for me.
You know there’s a problem when there are too many cops, not enough justice,
Too many them and not enough us and....
Dr. King said “I have a dream”,
And.... So much has changed, but we’re not done yet.
When there are still people like Sandra Bland, and Mike Brown, who die for no reason, then we aren't done yet.
Because when people are more comfortable on a street with gun shots than cops, then we aren't done yet.
When I still get looks for having a black boyfriend, then WE AREN'T DONE YET.
We won’t be done until there’s equality, until there’s no more violence, it may not happen in my life time, but we aren’t done yet.
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 2:21 PM UTC
**IMMEDIATELY PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF MY INFORMATION FROM YOUR DATA BASE FORTHWITH. ALSO,
ADVISE ANY AND ALL CONTRACTORS, SUB-CONTRACTORS, AGENTS, SUB-AGENTS, AFFILIATES, PARTNERS, COLLEAGUES, ASSOCIATES, CLIENTS, WEBMASTERS, WEB BASED LINKS, WINKS, TWINKS, COLONEL CLINCKS, BOSSES, CO-WORKERS, EMPLOYEES, VENDORS, SUPPLIERS, SALESMEN, ASCCOUNT REPS/EXCS, ACCOUNTANTS, BROKERS, CO-BROKERS, HACKERS, SLACKERS, WHACKERS, JERKS, PIMPS, HOES, HOBOS, BUMS, DERELICTS, DEGENERATES, DOPERS, DEALERS, TWEEKERS, GAMBLERS, RAMBLERS, SOLICITORS, SIDEKICKS, COHORTS, WINGMEN, WHEELMEN, LOOKOUTS, OUTLAWS, IN-LAWS, RELATIVES, FIANCES, GIRLFRIENDS, BOYFRIENDS, FAMILY, FRIENDS, ENEMIES, EVIL NEMISIS', CANVASSERS, INQUIRERS, QUEERS, QUEENS, COWBOYS, KINGS, **** DRAGS, HAGS, HETEROS, HOMOS, TONY ROMOS, FEMALE IMPERSONATORS, (PRE OR POST) MALE IMPERSONATORS, ***** ***** VAN ***** **** VAN **** LESBIANS, LIARS, BUYERS, CRYERS, CIGAR SMOKERS, CARPET MUNCHERS, RUG RATS, TODDLERS, TEENAGERS, YOUNGSTERS, SENIORS, SUCKERS, TRUCKERS, MOTHER shut yer mouth, LAW MAKERS, LAWYERS, ATTORNEYS, JUDGES, POLITICIANS, PECKERWOODS, LEADERS, FOLLOWERS, DISCIPLES, PROPHETS, EVANGELISTS, SAVIORS, SINNERS, SAINTS, SOOTHSAYERS, MEDICINE MEN, GYPSYS, TRAMPS, AND THIEVES, WITCHES, WARLOCKS, VAMPIRES, LYCANS, ZOMBIES, WAR MONGERS, PROTESTERS, SOLIDERS, GENERALS, GOVERNORS, PRESIDENTS, PATRIOTS, PACKERS, LIONS, BEARS, BROWNS, BLACKHAWKS, REDWINGS, RIGHT WING, LIBERALS, OR LAW BIDING CITIZENS, THEY ARE NOT TO CONTACT ME AND LOOSE MY NUMBER.
BUT IF YOU SEE MY MOM, TELL HER TO CALL ME.
........................................................................BA-ZING....................................................................**
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
BLACKSHEEP
I belong to the thieves the dealers and the pimps no matter what they didn't or did,
I belong to the single young mothers of militant brothers who struggle to feed there kids,
I belong to the assignation of my parents with one suspect to blame,
He walks with the devil his name is *******
So much time has past feeling so wronged greeted with fake smiles and hugs made me feel I belonged,
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
Scenario
"Hey man where did you get this bud at"?
"The guvnah"
Marijuana is federally illegal. Marijuana is illegal in West Virginia.
Unless you go to the local Dr Khan, and get a permission slip from the American Medical Association. $150
CASH ONLY
Then take that permission slip to the West Virginia Department of Health and Human Services, who will give you another permission slip. $75
CASH ONLY
Then you must take that there permission slip to the Government *** dealers. $$$$
You can purchase your Marijuana there $$$$
CASH ONLY
No shirt, no shoes, no service!
Please don't be afraid, the Government *** dealers don't ride Harleys, or have tattoos. These are clean decent people, with actual jobs. We don't even eat pork or smoke cigarettes...or believe in Jesus.
Scenario 2
"Hey man where did you get this bud at"?
"The guvnah"
"I get it cheaper"
Scenario 3
"Hey man where did you get this bud at"?
"The guvnah"
"I get it cheaper"
"How much"?
"$50"
"You are under arrest for conspiracy to sell drugs"!
Jul 30, 2022
Jul 30, 2022 at 1:13 AM UTC
**The allure of everything bad
The allure of vices that nullify circumstances which make living seem sad
The 'Hollywood' cigarette, the hard liquor... ******* crystal ****
All very romanticized but in reality, isn't that really just a self-induced slow death?
We don't talk about it, until we watch from the sidelines
If only for a second
When partaking one repeats quotes like 'it is what it is'
'I am not a quitter'
You've built up a tolerance for one, so you beckon
The bartender to pour you a second
Social trend like a hot topic on twitter
So now you want more
You ignorantly jab the needle inside you like you don't know what your signing up for
In a sense you don't, for you choose not to
Addiction entraps... but who?
Not you
And the moment you decide to go cold turkey
It appears more enticing in another movie, or in the hands of a fellow druggie
Impossible to reject
Relapse... rubber band effect
Yet even he that doesn't use gets a little curious
One day the stress becomes too much to handle, he's peeved
He's furious
He's heard of pills sold over the counter, and also of those available from dusty cobwebbed shelves
By dealers with hollowed out eyes, ghosts of their former selves
In an alternate reality
Where 'it's all good'
It's all about finding solace in one happy, high family... 'It's all hood'
A distorted image of zoned out smiling faces
Floating around in temporary elation
These vices have comforted and haunted many, way before our so called 'X-rated generation'
The druggie, the alcoholic or the *** addict you see... could be your's or someone else's dad
Or it could very well be you or me
Seduced by the allure of everything bad
I write this expecting it to be misunderstood by many...
For a judgement between bad and good
I myself could be affiliated to one of these vices... or many
Someone reading this may have already renamed it 'The allure of everything good'.**
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 4:01 AM UTC
150 down a main road
Ditched the 5'O
****** off, angry
Him running his mouth's
the only music playing
Different dealers on hold
Oh baby, please don't lose control
I've gambled makin money (in not so good ways) lots in my time,
& each time I did it, made myself a pretty dime
But this round fella's
This games gettin old
Drop my cards to the table
I'm out
I fold.
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 12:48 AM UTC
We pass laws about things we don't like.
Or don't want in our community.
But when you look through the microscope you amazed by those you see within the lenses.
Oh, we protest the strip clubs and that environment.
But pay attention to the visitors or clientele.
Always seems to be someone we know so well.
The businessman.
The police officer.
The minister.
Hosts of others
You know, those important fellas
Especially , a few elected ones.
The same ones supporting the bans on things.
People, even protest Walmart cause of the small family's store facing competition.
Oh, forget about the jobs for those unemployed.
Forget about customers to get a slow economy back on the path of recovery.
We, don't want the street walker disturbing visitors going to the store too.
After all, they have secrets to create several havocs to a happy home.
Again, when you look through the microscope or witness the news.
You shocked by their clients too!
Same, with the dealers of drugs.
Who?
When arrested we amazed that his clients might be teachers/ministers/politicians/judges/famers and the hard earn worker.
Looking through the microscope reveals the sinners controlling us.
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 9:06 PM UTC
The natural you and what about him
The Zen gold egg climber Prince
Got his "Godly" rinse of the hen
We always knew their way upon
our thinking "Jumping Jack Flash"
But to be the change the day single
let's be feasible naturally, we mingle
The Holy water medieval drinking
By the night call, something is moving
Like a creature not in human form
We need to meet our expectations
More spoken revelations and terms
Naturally, we were born to be told
we have the fire to move any force
Even when our bones are getting old
That powerful love but someone is
watching us above
With higher hopes will make
it through lovesick she coughs
The Passageway like a click of her heels
Feeling the beauty but climbing high
Naturally being cool with her sigh
Or the carriage day vintage wine
Her lucky wheel
World’s are invitation the engagement,
The sweet words or the terms of endearment
Be the Higher lover up in the Prince bow to her
A need to get higher inside the
Castle what a love hustle like a stampede
The rampage turning the ancient pages
Rock and roll ages or the Gothic pale
Victorian beauty her name Judy
Sir page the Grand Marnier
or change of pace human race
The drink Moet
High Mighty King singing
Her heart shape ring beating
Fresh-cut or worn out smoke put out
Brighten her pleasure the rose repose
To be born not a piece of paper torn
Like a Queen reborn
For love how its spoken not just
City Girl with her token for-God-sake
can you look through her
wing turned up she is curled up
in her new threads of sheets
eyes please she is not ready
to hear goodbyes to your beat
What do you read is she naturally
beautiful than or now
Her naturally glow lights up
The Shakespearian castle
Two nature healers, not the
same as card dealers
Butterflies the fireflies
Her love shape naturally
that's no lie
It comes naturally to be loved __
More like homed bakes muffin ___
Google the nature of things spoken but
they may not come
Please don't wait too long
Perhaps there is always someone
to copy your song
Be the climber love for who she is
Her vegetables her sensuality is quite
organically raw
She loves her side dish coleslaw
How nature made us in the womb
Naturally spoken things like her sub combo
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 10:22 AM UTC
Bang! Bang!
The sounds of gun shots mid-day on Thursday,
Sirens getting closer to the crime scene,
Just two weeks ago a man's life was terminated for a cellphone,
More thugs and more gun fires,
the tragedy so bad it even appeared in the news.
But today i can feel fear creeping in my vains,
Another man shot dead today,
why do i have to live in this community?
For i am afraid.
Few months ago
it was just like an action movie,
people running and rolling
while the loud sounds from the police guns aiming over my
roof top kept on going
Bang! Bang!
I see the police patroling the streets by day,
having picnics in the park
while they watch their horses eroid away the soil.
They feast to some take away outlets
filling their sagging bellies by night.
While they letting the just go unpunished all year long,
Oh! It hurts.
I feel a bullet on my chest,
Oh! It hurts
for i cannot look through the dark
night anymore.
I sit on the side of this wide classroom window,
And i wonder,
What if one bullet comes straight to me. (God forbid)
Oh this township that i loved,
you are not safe anymore.
Where can i run to for i called you home?
There is no distance further gone without any loud sounds;
Bang! Bang!
Oh mam' ngiyalil'
ngililel' labo abangasek'
ikakhulukaz' imphil' yam'
umphefumul' ongenacal'
kungab' sewabayin' wena dolobh' lami.
I called your name,
with so much pride and bragging,
but now i cannot even say your name
for you have groomed thugs,
gangsters,
vindals,
drug addicts and drug dealers,
harlots... And what else that we do not know?
Could it be blood sacrificies,
are these the 'EndTimes' proclaimed in the book of Revelations,
Why should i bother trying to think when all i hear in my head are ecoing sounds
Bang! Bang!
All i need to do is to find a way out,
Nyawozam' ngibeleth' !
Ngob' inhliziy' ayisahlalisekang'
qobo
when will that day be,
when crime will be stopped for good,
and police do justice to the community?
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 8:32 AM UTC
Drugs in sports, teens on drugs,
Does society give them too many hugs?
Bullying and deals,
Dealers are a bunch of heels,
Teen lost to 'the scene'.
Drugs in sports,
Winning's a rort,
Most drugs wins, I thought,
Drugs in sports, teens on drugs,
Who gave them too many hugs?
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 6:25 PM UTC
My problems never cease cuz adversaries try to bury me
But since I'm initiated by the hoods
They gats protect me catastrophe
Been with me since my family tree
Nothing crack dealers and cap peelers
Seen life early wanted to the king
So I chased figures
Lookin' at all the cold cash I was stashin'
Went from a jalopy to fly Benz
Dark tint limo roll up the indo
Cuz a brother gotta stay blitz always on a different **** never let the **** blind me
Its money over ******* fake ******* get stitches
No love bury with five slugs in ya cranium
A young ****** on a war path a
Ain't no tamin' em
Since muthaphukkas jealous I gotta stay strapped
Lookin' at the skies for better days askin' why?
My life is like this why am enticed to this?
**** imagery its the best of me
Can't help if I want to abolish slavery
Punks *** cops always chasin' me
But my mind too strong to be caught up in the wrong
I strategize with actions raw raps keep the Co's packin'
Put out an APB for a **** nigguh livin' in this streets
My heart goes out to the lonely I feel.ya pain
Don't let the burden tare ya down
Get up off ya *** if ya plan to make cash
Cuz the ***** *** government never gone give ya a reprimand of a helping hand
Lean on me and overthrow political rules
I wamt the gold and silver not the fake *** jewels
Paper currency ain't nothing but a advocate to debt
So many lost in this world breakin' a sweat
Tryna be something that's you'll never be
And if a follow the footsteps of revolutionary I'll be a threat
So what?? I'mma keep pushin' limits testin' nerves
As I sip the henney and blunt as a swerve
In my top drop feelin' right and tight
Its the black Sun Tzu
Thinkin' maybe I'll die tonight
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 12:14 PM UTC
Script
Zoom zoom goes the car with drug dealers
Being chased by the cops in a spotted deal
The exchange was spotted by the police
Who gave chase six shooters drawn
Firing at the fleeing BMW that sped away
Bullets zinged into it others were fired back
It was a right cowboys and Indians time
Just like a movie film with John Wayne
Who will win the cops or dealers?
It’s just like a films script but real
Sep 24, 2023
Sep 24, 2023 at 7:32 PM UTC
The weak inherit the Earth
The meek inherit their lead
Unaware of their life's worth
Until after they're dead
We are hopelessly trampled by a bullet stampede
Inflicted upon us for the wealthy man's greed
They sell us death as a commodity
While we can only mourn solemnly
They are arms dealers
We are harm feelers
They are life stealers
When we can't find healers
For the fatal wounds that end our lives so abruptly
And the man with the gun has no need to trust me
He has placed his faith in Ares
His humanity he failed to carry
He sold it urgently to feel secure
But then his thoughts became impure
For whatever reason he cast a death sentence
He felt injustice and wanted to get vengeance
But to the merchants of wrath
He is just math
Numbers on a graph
They must minimize
With blatant lies
Businessmen will try to create a need for their product
But engendering fear for profit seems like misconduct
Because as the bullets are raining
And the militants are training
Their money is stacking
While terrorists are attacking
Their nature seems callous
When they rely on our malice
They see us as a body count
They see us as simple trout
Swimming upstream to die
So they can eat us
Convincing us we'll fly
With minds of a fetus
The bullet burns as it punctures our civilization
It fuels our bitter spiteful incubation
We sit in the chamber
As they utilize our anger
The rich get richer
We don't see the picture
When gunshots scatter crowds
And the echoes scatter our thoughts
They want the volume to be loud
So we'll forget what we're taught
That our lives are the price of a gun and a bullet
Our paranoid lives become hard to live to the fullest
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 6:34 AM UTC
They say it's not safe to walk around here
You'll see women standing on street corners
Few drunk mortals and usual dealers
Still, it has a unique flair that's sincere.
Interesting folks spotted at cafes
Nights and on weekends, the scene is alive
Best galleries in town, boutiques survive
A form of art, nothing close to cliches.
The kind of place that gives someone a fright
A misconception for some who can't stand
The riveting darker side of their mind;
It's here geniuses like Baudelaire saw light.
There is something alluring about them
Those society scorn, the marginalized.
Judgmental souls persist; not so surprised
When below the surface waits a poem.
The people here have no care in the world.
Whether it's where they work or their hangout
Here, free spirits do not need to stand out
They think lightly and none shall be bothered.
They say it's not safe to walk around here
It's the truth, one must be a bit careful
But this area, genuinely soulful;
Rather here, red light district I revere.
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 4:53 PM UTC
Give a Centimeter, taken is a Light-Year.
Ask for an Inch, you're lucky to get a Centimeter.
Buy an Ounce, get a Gram.
Sell a Gram, taken is an Ounce.
Corporations are the ****** dealers of modern society:
Subsidized and Multi-Faced
Financial fronts for the Military-Industrial-Propaganda Complex.
They seek our cognitive tranquilization.
They seek our placification.
They seek our pacification.
They seek our inurement.
They seek our inurnment.
They're in it for their own profit and that of their friends,
as well as the perpetuation of sociopolitical-economic stratification;
not the happiness of the customers, or anything so ******* quaint.
-
"Satisfaction Guaranteed" doesn't mean ****
in this materialistic world.
A corporation saying 'Satisfaction Guaranteed' is like Monsanto saying it's milk is Organic;
A paper thin lie designed to get your money out of your hands and into their coffers forever.
Of course, their "Satisfaction" is "Guaranteed";
they have our money now,
and all we have useless, expensive toxic waste. (Literally and figuratively.)
The Swinepeople love that **** of theirs to roll around in.
The overwhelming nature of our Crapitiolism is underwhelmingly superficial.
-
"Time to bring it down again.
Don't just call me pessimist; try and read between the lines.
I can't imagine why you wouldn't welcome any change, my friend."
-Tool, Aenema
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 5:18 PM UTC
I feel this coming over like a storm again,
kicking, clawing, lashing out for reign,
endure to ensure the leisure's of pain,
through the wheat your voice so distant of grain,
over the heart and through the veins,
discover the righteousness of the truly insane.
What worked that got me in is something I cannot fathom to begin,
the spill from the canvas of your body,
the crunch of the morrow through to sought thee!
Leave me in this field of disbelief,
Leave me be!
Darling, sweet darling throw me out to the sea!
I don't want to be, you see?
The arrows from the heart have now shot me,
they've begin to dig deep down to distraught me,
My mind fought me,
the dealers bought me with a sweet gasly fume,
month after month cascading down in doom,
leave me to whither down in a bitter craving crazed loon.
Society has me tangled in this web,
what's right from wrong,
what should be said,
across the seas who's blood we shed,
but, sooner or later we'll all be dead.
-Tammy Cusick
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 1:27 PM UTC
Under a large, round, yellow
Full November moon
The chill of the cold, dark night
Slips in through my window
It fights against the heating
To send a shuddering shiver down my spine
Under the full November moon
People spill out of noisy pubs
Leaving heat, light, music
A false, inebriated happiness
To stagger, swirling home
To warm beds of love
Or cold, empty houses
And late night T.V.
Under the full November moon
Teenager's breath leaves clouds in the air
Hanging heavy and mingling with smoke
From spliffs secretly held in cupped hands
Hanging around shops, parks
Even the disappearing phone boxes
Feeling the arrogance of youth
Course through their veins
Under the full November moon
The middle aged sit
In armchairs with tea mugs
T.V. droning as they dream of their youth
When they were slim and ****
Or hungry and virile
Before it all slipped so quickly away
Under the full November moon
Swingers swap flesh and fluids
In hotels and motels
With no more passion or emotion
Than passing the salt
Under the full November moon
Prostitutes haul their tired, aching bodies
From car to car for the price of a hit
The dealers swagger, stoked full of *******
With the power and arrogance of mediaeval lords
Under the full November moon
People sweat in police cells
Under grey, itchy blankets
On blue rubber mattresses
In a white - tiled nightmare
Under the full November moon
I think of them all
As I sir writing ideas
In a cheap, lined pad
Then turn off the lights
As the full November moon
Bids goodnight
To us all
Nov 25, 2017
Nov 25, 2017 at 4:06 PM UTC
We bomb
hospitals
schools
police stations
sleeping children
and people
who we call
"collateral damage"
while chasing elusive
"high value targets"
while missing stationary
protected non-targets
oil fields
refineries
banks
arms dealers
and others who profit
from the insanity
they fuel
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 9:33 AM UTC