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Oscar Mann Aug 2016
Silently the social media hero strikes again
The swift and ruthless keyboard warrior
Crushing political correctness
Debunking liberal drivel
Overpowering the opinions of the obsolete

He grows and grows
With every post
And tweets make him feel
Like the torrent of thoroughness
Raging through a landscape
That needs to be cleansed

Outside lies a hostile world
With prying, judging eyes
Online, a world of possibilities
Where virtual battle cries
Are the prelude of a rally
Between the devoid and the deluded

But through his own gaze
Focused on the reflection
On the computer screen
A social media hero rises
While outside, the world passes him by
jake aller Mar 2020
Corona Virus Poems


Index
The virus from hell is amused
End of the World
Every Day I Turn on the New
Irony Meters Blow Gaskets
Chaos
Corona Virus Fears Tanka
My Phobias Overwhelm Me
Fear Fills the Air
Is this the best we can get?
More Trouble Every Day
by pass the alarms spreading across the land
corona cinqku
Taking a Walk in the Corona Era
A lone man stands in an empty parking lot
hell of a world we live in ain’t it?
Pause for a moment amidst the media madness
I feel as if the whole world needs to be cancelled
The Virus King Cried
Bring out your dead
the Virus Came From Hell
The Delivery System of the Virus is Round
the corona virus is testing us all
the call goes out
the horsemen begin to ride
nature spirits revolts against humanity
Last Human on Island
Corona Virus Haiku
the virus came from hell
bring out your dead cries
Be Afraid  haiku
Death Comes Knocking
the virus from Hell haiku



the Virus from Hell is amused
the Virus from Hell is amused
laughing at the world’s panicked reaction
as it marches through the world unabated
infecting everyone in its wake
as the world awaits its fate
the virus smiles he ain’t no fake
he is the real deal
he is death itself
he is the end of the world
the grim reaper is smiling
god is silent as usual
the world’s leaders
dither and rather
as the economy craters
everyone hoping that God
will save them
the virus does not care
insults and orders do not work
the virus simply does its virus thing
infecting everyone it encounters
and thousands will die
equal opportunity offender
killing the rich and the poor alike
but more poor people
just so many more poor people
than the few billionaires
the virus smile
his work is done
and mankind is doomed
so be it the virus thinks




that is the way of the world
and the virus is the new king
of the world

End of the World
end of world
the fears world-wide
soon find us dead
bring out the dead
ll the dead die
death lies here there
there goes here
as death here comes
soon here death comes


Every Day I Turn on the News
debunking the bioweaapon conspiracy theories
every day I turn on the news
nothing but news about the virus
the virus from hell
the world is filled with fear
and my anxiety levels rise
every time I turn on the news
oh my god I say
we are all going to die
and I am so afraid
afraid of everyone
afraid of everything
dreading the latest news
and nothing relieves my fear
I watch the world
loosing its collective mind
wondering how much more of this
can  we all take
I scream out
Dear God save us all
god is silent as usual
and so I realized
we are doomed
perhaps it is the end times
perhaps not
I turn off the TV
try to stay calm
hoping the madness
will not overwhelm us all


Irony Meters Blow Gaskets
the Irony meter gasket
is blown again and again
with every statement
of our chaos president
and his endless surrogates
promoting the latest Presidential
on spot guidance by our great leader
that must be true
because our dear leader
says it is so
The President accuses his democratic rival
of being senile and needs to be in home
and will be run by his radical left allies
and the right wing media
echoes the presidential absurd comments
refusing to acknowledge
that the president himself
is rapidly fading into dementia
and his radical right cronies
are looting the government
driving out expertise
even in the midst of pandemic
Oh  yeah the irony meters
are blowing gaskets
every single day

Chaos
the world descends into chaos
as our world leaders
led by the chaos president
are overwhelmed
by the smallest
enemy of all
a simple virus
straight out of hell
blows through the crumbling
third world public health infrastructure
living proof of the decline of America
and no one is prepared
and panic ensures
with every Presidential tweet
as people don’t believe
a word he says
conspiracy rumors spread
everyone believes their own reality
as the world spins out of control
the chaos king is in his element
convince that only he knows
the deal
and everyone else
is iust a bit player
in the reality show
that he presides over
and so the rest of us
hunker down
just hoping for the best
as the panic and
chaos spreads faster
than the virus
are we doomed
can we survive
will God save us?
he is silent as always

Corona Virus Fears Tanka
Corona virus
lurking fears all around me
we all will die
the TV screaming nonstop
Must be afraid be afraid

My Phobias Overwhelm Me
lately I have become scared
of everything
the news scares me, the corona virus scares me, the presidential race scares me, fears of gun men in the street, terrorism, fears of getting sick, fears of dogs, fears of other people, fear of loosing money, fears of becoming demented old man, lost in his nightmares on the street just another invisible homeless *** in the end of his life
all these phobias overwhelm me
time to walk away from my fears
and realize
it will be alright
everything will be alright
As long as I have you
by my side

Fear Fills the Air

watching the news
CNNMSNBCFOXBBCKOREANNEWSJAPANESENEWSBLOOMBERABCCBSNBCGOOGLEA­PPLEREUTERSAPIRUSSIANTVCHINESTVFRENCHTV
blather on and on
the world is ending
pandemic is coming
we are going to die
and the fear grows
and the restrictions grow
travel comes to stop
the economy comes to  a stop
everyone is so afraid
our leaders fret
say that everything is fine
as the world enters
the second great depression
and we are faced
with the reality
all over the world
idiots in high places
the masters of the universe
are in charge
the internet spreads
the wildest rumors
must be true
I read it on the internet
the truth is lost
in the shuffle
no one believes anyone
everything thinks
that they know
it is all a conspiracy
the thought comes to mind
we are all so ’S….
end of the world
is upon us

is this the best we can get?
watching the news
one wonders
how in this great country
of ours
335 million people
among the most educated
richest people in the world
we can end up
with such idiots in high places
running out country?
these idiots in charge
no disrespect intended
both political parties
all corporations
and our institutions
except maybe the military
has been infected
by this virus
of epic incompetence
greed and indifference
to the general good
who loudly constantly proclaim
that they are Christians
while violating
all of Christ's teachings
Jesus if he came back
would scream out
I am not Christian
it is all about me
and mine
and you can go
to hell
if you dare to disagree
and so we tweet and titter
and watch the news
reading the latest rumors
and I wonder
if there is a god
or if there is a devil
and are we overwhelmed
by the dismal news
why can’t we have better
leaders
better people
in our leaders
around the world
has god abandoned us
are we in hell
or did god ever exist
except in our fevered imagination
will god save us all
or will the world
just go around the sun
indifferent to our pleas?
no answer
must watch the news
consumed by the need
to see the latest news
and so it goes
and I wake up
the sun is up
and the nightmares
fade away
until I watch the news
and the madness consumes
us all again and again
as the corona virus
marches on and on
consuming us all
as the world falls apart
these must be the end times
I hope I will be raptured away
even if I am not a Christian

More Trouble Every Day
The Old Zappa song plays
on in my head
every time I turn on the news
and see more trouble every day
no one can delay
the trouble coming every day
Frank Zappa died too soon
before the horrors of the Trump era
and the corona end of the world plague
that he would have foreseen
if he had lived on
he was truly a prophet
crying in the wildness
while making money
as an over night sensation
as he saw the slime
oozing out of the TV sets
we will do what we are told
for the rights to us have been sold
And Jesus too
has been sold
to the highest bidder
nothing but a business deal
in America
the land of the constant deal
and so I turn off the TV
and realize that
the torture never ends
the torture never ends

Trouble Every Day
more trouble every day  Frank Zappa
Well I'm about to get sick
From watchin' my TV
Been checkin' out the news
Until my eyeballs fail to see
I mean to say that every day
Is just another rotten mess
And when it's gonna change, my friends
Is anybody's guess
So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
Wednesday I watched the riot...
I seen the cops out on the street
Watched 'em throwin' rocks and stuff
And chokin' in the heat
Listened to reports
About the whisky passin' 'round
Seen the smoke & fire
And the market burnin' down
Watched while everybody
On his street would take a turn
To stomp and smash and bash and crash
And slash and bust…

The Torture Never Stops
Frank Zappa
torture never stops
Flies all green and buzzin'
In this dungeon of despair
Prisoners grumblin
**** they clothes
Scratch their matted hair
A tiny light from a window-hole
Hundred yards away
That all they ever get to know
'Bout the regular life in the day
'Bout the regular life in the day
Slime and rot and rats and snuck
***** on the floor
Fifty ugly soldier men
Holdin' spears by the iron door
Stinks so bad, stones are chokin'
Weepin' greenish drops
In the den where
The giant fire puffer works
And the torture never stops
The torture never stops, torture
The torture never stops
The torture never stops
Flies all green and buzzin'
In this dungeon of despair
An evil prince eats a steamin' pig
In a tumbers right near there
In the chambers right near there
He eats de snouts an trotters first!…


by pass the alarms spreading across the land
to bypass the alarms spreading across the land
the circuit breakers are breaking down
as the alarms go on and on
with the end of the world
the end days approaching
spreading the alarm far and wide

corona cinqku
corona
it came from hell
we must be all prepared
meet God


Taking a Walk in the Corona Era
every day I go for a walk
in the spring time woods
near my house
braving the weather
and the dreaded corona virus
wearing masks and gloves
keeping a distance
from anyone we encounter
that is life it seems
in the era of the corona virus
when will it end
no one knows
until then
I will brave the viral threat
and confront my fears
and walk in the park
with the love of my life
my bride my wife
by my side
in these challenging times
that is all we can do

A lone man stands in an empty parking lot

contemplating the new normal
social distancing run amuck
as fears of the corona super plague
plague the land
driving everyone inside
sheltering in place
afraid to go out
afraid of the deadly c virus

It is a hell of a world we live in ain’t it?
It is a hell of a world we live in ain’t it?
said the old man to me
sitting on a bench
in the park in the woods
as we both sought shelter
from the spreading chaos
the pandemic swirling around us
Yes I said
standing up
to enforce the proper distance
between us
don’t want to give the virus a chance
to spread between us
he smiled and said
relax I already went through it
I am fine and you will too

Pause for a moment amidst the media madness
Pause for a moment amidst the media madness
All around us fears and chaos
Unlike the end of the world approaching us
Sadness overcomes us dooming us to our fate
Every we go nothing but death awaits

I feel as if the whole world needs to be cancelled
I feel as if the whole worldneeds to be canceled
due to rough times ahead
due to the corona madness
and the thread of pure craziness
that it inspires in us all

The Virus King Cried

the virus king smiled
as the politicians lied
saying that the end was near
the virus king infected thousands more
and killed hundreds of people
the virus king sneered
as people panicked
and partied on the beach
the virus king infected thousands more
and killed hundreds of people
the virus king laughed
as the markets crashed
millions became unemployed
the virus king infected thousands more
and killed hundreds of people
the virus king roared
as the world slid into chaos
people turning on one another
the virus king infected thousands more
and killed hundreds of people
the virus king smirked
knowing that there was nothing
that they could do to stop
his army from infecting millions
and killing thousands
the virus King begin to realize
that soon there would be no one left
no one for his army to infect
as everyone was dying
the virus King yelled
remaining defiant
as civilization collapsed
billions were infected
millions died
the Virus King at last cried
when he saw that he was defeated
as one by one
people began to recover
and his reign of terror came to an end

Bring out your dead
the call bring out your dead
spreads around the world
as millions die
all over the world
the virus has spread
mutated and killed
all over the world
bring out your dead
the mournful cries
echoing in the wind
of the dying cities
mass starvation
as no is working
in the fields
as more people die
and the world spins
around the sun
with the politicians lying
and the dead still dying
as civilization dies
and humanity flee
into the wilderness
chased by the killer virus
straight down to hell

the Virus Came From Hell
the virus came from hell
straight out of a mad lab
born and raised in China
the virus spread from Dinah
all over to carolina
it spread from the lab
the mad virus of Hell
was mad as hell at humans
who it blamed for everything
seeing itself as cleansing everything
killing the world and everything
revenge against humans
perhaps virus came from God
more likely came from Satan
part of natures’ revenge
all designed to avenge
the damage to Stonehenge
virus came from Satan

The Delivery System of the Virus is Round
the delivery system of the virus is round
very simple system
the virus spreads around
and all must pay the price
death and destruction

the corona virus is testing us all

the corona virus
is testing us all
is it a plague
sent by God

if we have faith
will we recover

or it is beyond our control
the end of the world

does god hear our prayers
does god even exist

the virus from hell
spreads around the world

and test our faith
will god save us all

I have no answer
but perhaps if god exists

we will recover
from this plague
from hell



The call goes out

the call goes out
stay at home
to beat the dreaded c virus

will we live
or all die?

the four horse men ready to ride

the end of the world is upon us
as god unleashes the corona virus
which is spreading across the land

the four horse men are ready
to begin their grim journal
announcing the end of the world

the white horse comes first
offering peace and hope
in the midst of death
and despair

the red horse rides second
ushering in war
throughout the world
as nations turn on each other
and civil war looms

the Black Horse is ready
unleashing famine
on a starving world
as people stay at home
and food rots in the field

no one is able
to work any more
as the virus kills more
and more

the pale horse rides last
bringing death
in his wake

death all around us
as the virus kills us all
and civilization ends

the four horse men
have done their job
the virus finishes its reign of terror
and the few survivors
beging to recover

end of the world
came and went
and they are still alive
thanks to God

who remains silent
as always

nature spirits revolt against humanity

all around the world
nature's spirits
are on the move

the world is changing
as the nature's spirits
rise up
in revolt against humanity

is this the end time
is nature on revolt
against humanity

is this the end for us all
will the virus **** us all
will nature rise up
and **** us all?

Last Human on Island

Last human on an island
in the deep blue sea
nothing there
but death and destruction

virus all around
pandemic plague
Apocalyptic views
end of times
death of civilization




corona virus

corona virus
staying home waiting for death
Afraid everything  
the virus came from hell

the virus came from hell
staying home waiting for death
Afraid everything  
Bring Out Your Dead

bring out your dead cries
break out all over the world
we are waiting death



death comes knocking

death comes knocking
on our doorsteps tonight
will God hear prayers



be afraid afraid

be afraid afraid
Must be afraid every one
Death is at our door


The Virus Came From Hell


the virus came from Hell
ravaging the entire world
all waiting for death
my take on the corona virus pandemic  for more check out my blog, https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com
I almost wrote you a love poem
...but I don't love you.

Your crayola stained lies turned my blue skies to gray
so how could I be happy when there's no sunshine today?
No sunshine today turned to no sunshine to this date
so to this day I'm embodied in the darkness that you made.

I almost wrote you a love poem
but instead I wrote a riddle.

I repose homely in dark spaces
because I've adapted to the dark.
I'm engulfed in darkness
But I'm that gleaming light from afar.

Answer is,
I'm a Star.

Consensus:
Your devious dark deeds attempted to deviate
my direction and detach me from the light leaving me in darkness
but I empowered myself,
debunking your detrimental ways
and becoming the light you tried so hard to take from me.

I almost wrote you a love poem
and if I did,
it'd say I love you.
...but this isn't a love poem!
and the only I love yous I recall,
are the lies you told me
and the truths you told him.

I almost wrote you a love poem,
...and if I did,
If I did write you a love poem..
I bet I'd have nailed it!
...but you ******* it all up
and now,
who's really the fool?

I almost  wrote you a love poem,
and if I did,
it  would have went a little something like
...idk

*because loving you is something I never want to do.
Lungs expand and contract and the diaphragm is pulled and pushed
much the same way that a boat is tugged by the current.
mori Aug 2015
you can't hurt me
you can't hurt me
you can't hurt me
alright ngl this is abt as tru as the statement "i am str8"
mori Aug 2015
time will heal nothing.
time will only teach you how to hide things properly -
RyanMJenkins Apr 2013
Sentimental ******
Academically flunking
Connecting dots and debunking
Seeing past what you see luck in
Black hole my foot's sole is stuck in
Seemingly strategically ducking
Prodding problems and plucking moments,
But losing grip on how to hold it

Encouraging misfit
Brainstorming ******
Monotonous yet intricate
Everyone's just so full of it
Love,
Give it and soak in the showers of despair
The equilibrium storms a new batch of flowers through prayer
The one you always wanted wasn't there
Yet there's always someone with a moment of care to spare

Petty instance through another's glasses could be colossal
A piece of scratch paper to one could be a fossil.
Dare to go against what some deem as impossible
Every individual is a fractal within the kaleidoscope
But even fragments can learn to see the beauty of the whole.

When the music stops sometimes it hurts even more
Melancholy water tides rise and begin to roar
Mental dialogue so active it should be a sport
Fill the report, try not to contort
Sometimes the finish line is reached faster with cohorts
It helps to know when you've gone too far, abort.

A soul alone in a sea full of black
Hard to see past what I lack with this past, there's no going back
Blind to the track, so where am I going?
Hard to invest trust when there's so much not knowing.
Still rowing, but there's a hole in my boat
I question the universe as to why I still stay afloat.

A world of perfection that's full of skewed mirrors
Objects in mind may seem more deviating than they appear
Risks risk regret when not taken due to fear
Let go of misconceptions and substitute a perception that we're meant to be here.

It's nice to believe in something
Whether Allah or the theory of string
Yet holding on too tight can eventually sting
I've been open to the infinite, but what will it bring?

As a patient, if the medicine was patience I may've died already.
The ride's going at lightspeed and is anything but steady.*  
But now I'm unbuckling the seatbelt, to feel every planetary pothole
I will succeed only when I realize my place in the ship,
I am in control.

Parting the waves
See past the grave
There's still love for the depraved
Hell is within us all,
And we all can be saved.

The way will be shown
Remember, There once was a time that you didn't know.
Semi-controversial with the introspective flow,
But this is the method I choose to potentially map out my growth.
Kelly O'Connor Jan 2014
If much of taste is olfactory
And smell my strongest sense
Then I am only remembering the bad taste in my mouth
Whenever I smell your cologne.
Or were those pheromones?
Which someone once told me were a pop science myth
As far as humans are concerned.
But from what I've learned, there's a reason
I remember when your birthday rolls around,
Curse the fact that your phone number's still memorized,
Wonder how we all grew out of our awkwardness but somehow
We never stopped being weird kids who dream about taking over the world without
Wanting anything to do with it,
Convinced somehow we wouldn't know what to do but
Planning every step of development
Developing bad habits to have something to break later
Breaking up frustration with a long handled axe
Asking questions of the ceiling and being ambidextrous
Dexterously clumsy, bursting from cicada skins
Skinning cats and giving catty answers cause we can
Canning ideas, blasting truths, getting reaction shots
Shooting *** and pounding drums and whatever ***** comes along
A long , long way from home.

If there's a method to my madness then my sanity is rhymeless
And sleep gives no more stability than sadness.
Awareness is a legendary goal, but
I'd rather be blind than forgetful, rather
Anxious than regretful, never
Seek salvage from judgment, shelter from justice,
Which someone once told me was a pop culture myth.
And if it's mythology then please, call yourself the hero.
You deserve it after all, you deserve the fall,
To stall till last call, shoot to brawl
It takes all strands of our silk, when you consider it.
Done are the days of self righteous *******,
Gone are the messages you seek,
Long are the nights and low is the sun now
Sunning like lizards in the light from a flare gun
Gunning for a desert road that exists only in memory
Memorizing lines and making them glide smooth like glaciers
Glacial glances but loving deeply every pulse felt or heard
Herding the sheep you count before your childhood sweethearts close their eyes
Eyeing the dreams that glow in a summer sky like faraway missile tests
Testing cold waters, and debunking theological fallacies,
******* fantasies or secrets, slowly losing steam for longing
A long, long way from home.
mori Aug 2015
loving the idea of her
is alright, actually
it really is
Dallas Phoenix Sep 2016
I'm sick of bringing welcoming baskets to my brain-dead neighbors;
They reek of reoccurring favors and fading candle labor;
I mean...
It's to a point I fell asleep by the wishing well;
And woke up counting sheep frolicking piggies playing kiss and tell;
Debunking trumpets of cachet telekinesis;
I'm a hidden sinning villain with chewable junk as his personal Jesus;
Evade gratuitously from all kinds of communication;
Never wanted the attention, but I caught it's contamination;
And my face melted;
But kept a defunct smile just in case;
I need to worm through the dross and cut myself into the chase;
I'm a motley of misinterpreted mayhem;
A clothing shop for a wandering vagrant's cloudy stray phlegm;
Trying to comfort the uncomforted;
My life is just a Death Row inmate's last words with unwanted conjunctions;
But somehow through misery
I pride myself imageless and infinite;
Reeling in the years to blow that last smoke before the finish;
Àŧùl Jun 2017
We were born to different mothers,
But still we are spiritual brothers.
And still indifferent to what bothers,
Fire of hatred either of us smothers.

Blood won't seperate the atoms
Of joy that flows through our veins,
Nor will it break a bond that has been
So atomically connected without chains,
Mud squishes between our toes,
My friend is climbing stairs as he goes.

Debunking the myth of racial differences,
Here we go holding each other's hands,
To mother earth we owe the references,
Tune we will to our lives these bands.*

But we remain sat with our feet against the warm fire that reminds us of home,
Muddy worn out shoes that no longer fit let us know just how much we've grown,
Until the next morning when adventure is to be sought and we sit On our throne.
A "Ryan Holden" and "The Lonely Bard" collaborative poem.
Julian Feb 2023
https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/l8njruxa73yee9b0jzmhd/The-Ultimate-Unabridged-Guide-to-Esoteric-Working-English-2.docx?­rlkey=kunoar7ghpfkb7fjk5xkdgx95&st=i84ornny&dl=0

^Decipher my words by using the above reference material^


DAVERING DIPPYDOS CONCEALED IN THE GELID WAME OF THE WANCHANCY OF SPODOMANCY RETICULATED AROUND QUESTIONS OF INTERRAMIFICATION WE COULD PROVIDE IMMARCESSIBLE CONDITIONS DELIMITED IN THE FORMANT MATHEMATICS OF OPERATIVE DURESS THAT QUANTIFY AND QUALIFY THE INDIVIDUAL CONSTITUTED PREROGATIVES OF CLADOGENESIS ORBITED AROUND CALVOUS CONNIVANCE THAT ITCHES IN YEUKS OF BEADLEDOM THAT THE SURMISED APOTHECARY WEIGHT OF THE SUPERLATIVE DISTILLATION OF BANDOBAST GUARDED IN THE BARRULET WHICH IS SYMBOLIZED MORE CONCRETELY BY THE INTERTESSELATED DETAILS OF THE SATARA OF A FEW KEY PIONEERS IN EVERY ORBITAL FIELD AROUND ORGANITY THAT THE UNSEELED PROXENETES MIGHT DEVOUR THE IGNOVIMOUS DETAILS OF EXTENSIVE BERLINE DIATRIBE EMBOSSED INTO CIRCULAR ACCLAIM. WE FIND THE FISSIONS BETWEEN THE SPORRAN ACCENTS OF INTERDIGITATED SEGUIDILLA THAT EXERT A LOLLOPING MAGNANIMITY IN CECUTIENCY OWING THAT THE OLASIN EPOCH JUST BEGINNING OF THE CELLARERS CAPACITY TO UBIQUITIZE THEIR KNOWLEDGE AT HAND TO EVERY ORPHANED CAUSE THAT WE MIGHT KNOW THE CHEVET AND ECHARD SIMULTANEOUSLY OF ECCLESIOLATRY AND WHEN WE SURMISE FIGURES OF APPROXIMATE RANGE WE AMOUNT TO A PETTY PRIVILEGE OF 7-9% OF CULTURAL CAPITAL. WHEN WE DIAGRAMMATICALLY SEJUGATE THE CASTRAMETATED NOOSPHERE WITH AN ETAMINE PROCLIVITY TO AVOID THE LAZARET OF ELASTANE BROMIDROSIS SURREYED IN THE SELCOUTH BURROLE OF CHAMOIS FILIPENDULUOUS IN CERTAIN DIPPOLDISM OF CURRYCOMBED VENDETTAS OF BOLAR VERSUS BOLTROPE AND THE NEGENTROPY OF AUCUPATION THAT YOU MIGHT ASSIZE A NEW EXPEDITED AREINEDAN ZEITGEIST WHERE FORMULARY EQUATIONS ARE HYPOSTATIZED INSTANTANEOUSLY TO THE LEVERAGE OF SATELLITE SARANGOUSTY EXLEX PROTECTORATES SORDORING THE CATHEDRA ONLY TO THEN CONCEAL IT IN A TACTICAL NOYADE OF DELIBERATE BASCULE FROM WEALTH TO PENURY OFTEN ASSUMED AS THE GOAL OF THE WALLFISH WALLETEER BECAUSE THE SPUTUM OF RADIAL GREAVES OF GRAVID IRONY DEFLECTS VERY NOTICEABLY THE CURVATURE OF KYMATOLOGY IN THE DIRECTION OF PRECISION ONLY IN THE ARBALESK VERNACULAR THAT IS SUBLIMINAL TO THE FUNDAMENTAL RUDIMENTS OF DISCURSIVE PATAVINITY OF ORRERY OROGENS OF ENNOMIC DISCOVERIES THAT HARK THE ELOIG N BETWEEN FAMIGERATED DISTANCE LAVEERED AGAINST THE PROGENY OF PETULANT CONTUMACY THAT FEWER HYPERTROPHIES AVOID IN SIMPERED MANNERS OF RHETORIC. WE BELONG TO A HISTRINKAGE GENERATION WHERE THE BRONCHOS OF NEURYPNOLOGY WAGERED IN NEUTROSOPHY FOR STANNARY NEVES OF NIVELLATION NIDDERING ON BATHOPHOBIA FOR SUCH A PROTENSIVE AND INDUCTIVE RIGOR AND ARDOR THAT THE TIRESOME TRAVAILS OF DEBUNKING THAT WEGOTIST HAUTEUR BECOME EXHAUSTIVELY CONCLUSIVE BY THE EMBROCATION OF THE FLUIDITY MATRIX DESIGN OF A SYNECHIOLOGY SYSTEM DEVISED TO COMPUTE THE PANMIXIA EVEN IN CONDITIONS OF ANTIPANGAMY THAT THE CYBERNETIC TORQUE ON THE SYSTEM IS THEREFORE INHERENTLY BINARY AND GRAVITATED IN SUBLINEATED CARDIOGNOST CAPACITIES IN A STALWART COUNTERCLOCKWISE DIRECTION TOWARDS A HETERONORMATIVITY BECOMING BASELINE RATHER THAN INVERTED. THE PLAGIUM OF AGES IS THE CARNAL QUESTION OF CIVILIZED DISCONTENTS BECOMING PROSTHETIC SPHERES OF PRISMATIC UNITY AMONG THE SIDEREAL ACTORS OF THE ABATJOUR OF THE ESSIVE ABERDEVINE CONSTRAINTS CONTECKING THE CONSTRINGED STRIFE OF MAGNALITIES SPAWNING ROTARY REACTORS OF ABREACTION THAT FUEL A GARBOLOGY THAT BORROWS HEAVILY FROM THE GLAMOUR OF THE PROGENY OF CENTROBARIC ******. WE THEREBY SEIZE WITHIN CARAPACES OF WOOLD SLOWLY IMMERGED BEYOND THE RANCOR OF JERQUED JERKINHEAD JANSKY FOIBLES OF PARASELENIC GERONTOLOGY THAT THE SENICIDE OF THIS AUDIENCE SKEWS CONTRARY TO THE BATHOPHOBIA WHEREBY IT IS BEING SCRUTINIZED IN STRABISMUS AND THEREBY THE BODACHES OF POINTILLISM MISS THE SUBTLE IRONY OF HOW GENIUS IS JUST INTERLOCKING CRACKJAWS WITH GOBSTOPPERS IN A NEVER ENDING TEST OF THE FINESSE OF THE SACCHARINE TRAITS OF THE CREAMERY OF CIVILIZATION. THE BATTALIONS OF STEEVED BOBSTAYS JOGGLING IN SALTUS BETWEEN PERIODIC ORBITS OF ZERO MECHANIZATION BUT FULL AMPHIGORY THE CHURNED COILS OF HYPERTROPHY YIELD A RECTISERIAL STRUMPET ECDYSIAST TYMPANY IF FUNNELED THROUGH THE ALMAGEST OF FORMER IMMARCESIBLE KNOWLEDGE THAN THE INQUIRIES OF MANKIND WILL CONVERGE INTO A CONCLAVE THAT THE SCORIA WILL ENUMERATE MORE THOROUGHLY IN THE WADMALS OF ALL WIDDERSHANCY AND THE INTERRAMIFICATIONS OF PRODIGY INTERPUNCTED BY THE ALBENTURE OF WILDING IMBREVIATION OF THE STRICKLE OF YARNWINDLE OF EXPERIENCE WE DISCOVER A BLETTONISM SO MAGNIFICENT IT INTENSIFIES THE IONIZATION OF THE AURORA AUSTRALIS JUST AS MUCH AS THE BOREALIS BOTH YEUKING FOR THE BETHEL OF ESSIVE ABATJOUR IN THE JURYMAST FOR CONCRETE STEPNEYS STEPWISE IN THEIR SCABERULOUS PLOTS OF DECISIVE INGLENOOKS BURROWED IN THE FIGURATIVE MOULINS VERSATILE IN POSITION AND MERCURIAL IN THE SPRITES OF THEIR TABACOSIS OF AMASTHENIC WISDOM MIGHT WE ENDEAR A GREATER GENERATION OF ARENOIDS THAT EXIST TO ELABORATE AN ARETAICS OF BALANCED ORTHOTOMY AND ORTHOBIOSIS GROUNDED ON BIOTAXY IMPOSED THROUGH THE STRIDULATION OF THE FEW GALVANIZING THE SUNBITTERN MOON AT A GLANCING ANGLE OF PRISOPTOMETRY THAT WE MIGHT FETCH THE DIRIGISME FROM THE DIRIGIBLE. IN A NEW HUMAN AND HUMANE FRONTIER WE ARE IN A SORBILE POSITION ANCILLARY TO THE SUPERPOSITION OF SUPEREROGATORY SEDIGITATED SEDERUNTS OF NEMBUTSU DOVETAILED EVENLY EVEN WHEN DISHEVELED IN CACOPHONY THAT THE BEHEST OF THE ALVEOLATE MELLIFEROUS PLANGOR OF PLANKWISE CORSAIRS IN THEIR SUPREME PRIMACY THAT WE MIGHT EARN THE TITLE OF TEACHERS AMONG THE LITTORAL ALLUVION OF DYVORS OF SUBDICOLOUS CONDITIONS IGNORANT OF THE SCORBUTIC YOUNGSTOCKS TRIGGERED BY YESTERTEMPESTS AND YOUTHQUAKES THAT JOGGLE THE SUBSULTUS OF SALTUS FROM BRITTLE BRICOLAGE OF PRESTIDIGITATION THAT IS INTEGRAL TO THE MACARISM ENVELOPING ALL ENVIED SOULS THAT ONE MIND MIGHT EMERGE AS A MAINPERNOR OF A JURYMAST TO ACQUIT A CORRUPT SYSTEM OF MONGERY FOR ITS MINOR MALVERSATIONS AND MALCONTENTS. WE THEREFORE BELONG TO A NEWER HIERARCHY WHERE THE SUBORNED PREDICATE PROPOSITION OF THE BARYEICOIA IMMANENT ESPECIALLY AMONG TIMES OF ESBAT AND CELLARER WE MIGHT DISCOVER THE FATE OF OLMS OF ELFLOCK THAT THEY MIGHT NOT EVAPORATE FROM THE TURGID ROLLICK OF A UNIVERSAL MAGPIETY THAT ENSURES THAT MACROPICIDE IS AVOIDED SO THAT THE DENATURED TWINGES OF PROPRIETY LIONIZED BY CREDENCE IN REGARD MIGHT ORBIT IN ELLIPSE AROUND THE OBLONG ORBIT OF ITS MOST PRONOUNCED FASCINATIONS AND PERVERSIONS AND LESS AROUND THE SUBROUTINES OF THE MALADROIT FRUSTRANEOUS ECHARD OF LONGEUR SLIPSHOD IN TIME TO EDGE ITSELF FURTHER UNCIALLY IN ANGSTROM AGAINST ANGST. THE CREDENDA OF THE DOCIMASY OF SQUAMATION MANDATED BY MANY URCEOLATE ARCEATE ARBALESK COVVENGERS MIGHT SEEM SUITABLE BY PRESUMPTION BUT THE MALCONTENT INHERENT INTO A SYSTEM OF SOURDINE AND SORBILE SORBEFACIENT INDIVIDUALS INTERRAMIFIED IN CODED LETHOLOGICA DUE TO ABORIGINAL EMOTIVISM SIPHONED FROM THE LAVADERO OF THE IMMARCESIBLE MIGHT BE A DOWNFALL OF STREAMLINED ****** TOWARDS A HEGEMONY CAPABLE OF THE TORQUE NECESSARY TO SURVIVE THE HEYDAY OF HESTERNAL PROCLIVITIES GOVERNED BY A MASSIVE ACYESIS AND ACYANOPSIA WHICH EVENTUALLY MIGHT SUBLIMATE THE GREATER BARASINGHAS OF WHIPSTAFF AND WILLIWAW ABOVE THE BRONTEUM OF BEREAVED COLUMNS BENEATH TORPID SKELETONIZATION OF SEJUGATED SOCIETIES THAT CRUMPLE INTO ABREACTION FASTER THAN THEY CONGEAL INTO SOLIDARITY WHEN THE POLLARCHY IMPETUS IS STRONGER THAN THE SODALITY OF COHESION. WE NEED A SOCIETY GOVERNED BY NOMOTHETIC NOMISTIC LAWS ERECTED BY THE NOMOGRAPHY OF A WORLD WHERE NOMENCLATURE PLAYS A PROMINENT PART IN DISSIPATING NEMBUTSU AND ARRAYING THE NUMBATS TO SURVEY THE GAMUT OF AVAILABLE ENDEAVORS OF ENTERPRISE SUCH THAT THE FINITE ALEATORY PROBABILITIES OF AN ARCEATE ARRECT SOCIETY MIGHT THRIVE EVEN WITH UNEVEN VOLTINISMS THAT THE LIMITLESS RHOMBOS NEVER BECOMES A CURGLAFF BECOMING OF A FAINEANT GENERATION OF ABSTERGED STATISTICS BUOYING A SPATTEE OF SIFFLEURS THAT SUSTAIN SPECULATIVE BONANZAS ABOVE THE PITFALLS OF URMAN PIRANHAS THAT ENCAGE THE DEFT CALCULUS OF IMMISERRATION AMONG THE BAILIVATION OF WROX IN WROTH. WE NOW KNOW A SOCIETY THAT ONCE GOVERNED BY ICONOPLASTY OF VULPECULAR GAVELKIND ALLOYED NEVER BY A SEMPERVIRENCE OF MAN BUT BY A STRIDENT APOTHEGM OF SCIENTIFIC SOTERIOLOGY THAT THE KYMATOLOGY OF INTERTESSELATED SPANDRELS ENVELOPING THE DIMENSIONAL ATROPHY OF SPACETIME PARAMETERS THAT WE MIGHT OBSERVE A CONGENIAL URGE FOR BONHOMIE TO ERUPT NOT INTO A BONFIRE BUT INTO A SOLIDARITY OF PURPOSE FOR GREGARIOUS WEALTH AGAINST THE LEVY OF THE PURPRESTURE OF THE MUNDANE SYNERGIES OF CRYPTODYNAMIC CHRONOBIOLOGY YET DISSATISIFIED BY THE HYPE OF YAFFINGALES OF YARNWINDLE OUTSMARTING THE WOODSHEDDERS OF SHIBBOLETH WHO POACH WITH TAXIDERMY THE ESPALIER OF HUMAN ENDEAVOR MULTIPLIED BY THE CURRENCY OF ALL FAFFLE MEETING THE FRICTION OF ALL RUDIMENTARY REVOLUTIONS AGAINST THE FORWARD PROPULSION OF A SOCIETY OF GRANDEUR GROWING IN PROPORTION TO THE STRENGTH OF ITS MAGNATES THAT IT MIGHT COMMEMORATE THESE HEYDAYS OF THE ZEITGEIST OF ZANYISM AS A ZABERNISM OF GROWTH AND HYPERTROPHY FOR THE SYNECHIOLOGY CONSTRAINED BY MORTMAIN OF KYMATOLOGY AS A FUNCTION OF BIOCENOSIS AND THE FIELD OF MACROBIAN ENDEAVOR VISIBLE TO THE VITRAIL OF ALL LORE AND LEGENDS SPRAWLING THE ANCIENT PAST AND ENUMERATING A PRECISE FUTURE BETTER THAN WE EVER DREAMED.
Liam C Calhoun Jun 2014
Light’s out and star’s absent eyes –
Though I can see the alarm clock,
My blinking red pixels –
        12:00
12:01
Soon to be, 12:02.
.
The sound’s scampered away, leaving only an ear or two –
Debunking a tumble atop vinyl,
A second amongst hours skipping –
“Save me”
“Save me”
“Please save me?”
..
Something to touch is truant, from a once benign hand –
Abandoned so that the scars remain to itch,
And so I scratch –
This one’s from him,
That one’s from her,
But my favorite’s from you.
..
Tasteless pervades a fix, now abandoned, a wind somewhat vacant –
Memories; like our first dinner, tattered and tame,
        Forgotten moments, origins in eclipse
        And the such with no quarter for today,
Let alone something to show for tomorrow.
..
So my nose remains a vestige as I’ve already disemboweled my face –
Leaving all that was, to inhale upon a subtle cognizant;
That certain lucidity in between dreamt and dawn –
As I now divine not the vivid, never flowers,
Not you…but alone,
Finally, alone.
..
Alone, vulnerable and fixed in mistake,
At 12:02, come 12:03.
        …
There might be a couple of formatting issues for this poem on this site, my apologies of course. This piece was published in, "Congruent Spaces."
Innocent Tata Mar 2018
You see Its all about balance
It is why there’s a God
And there’s a devil
Something to love
And something to rebel
The moon and the sun
The summers and the falls
You against the world, right ??

Because while you weren’t feeling pain you were grinning to skylines
While I wasn’t alone, I was hopelessly in love
I sang her name in the mountains
And cursed her in the valleys
Because while I wasn’t here
I was surfing other universes
Conversing with deities
Discussing human pain
The impossibility of world peace
Debunking the weave between creatives and depression
Drinking cocktail to mundane philosophies
And cringing at its inadequacies

Its the fibers that wrestled into pattern
A pigment too much
Hair left in the oven to burn
See I woke up this morning
Reminding myself why I’m nothing less than perfect
A standard for shallow magazines to dissect
My timeless symmetrical face
My poetic jaws
My lustful eyes
My perfectly aligned shoulders
My seductive accent
and my big ****

See I wrote you into a book
In this book, I made sure
I got your chubby cheeks chiseled
For eccentricity, I gave you light freckles
I toned up your skin because you were always so insecure about being black
I, I made your legs bowl, making every path you walk on a runway
I made your accent more American, you never did speak much, I wonder
I made you a hero, a character kids could look up to
Even if all you ever did, was save yourself..
I made you, you

But my x-factor or stand out behavior or artistic finesse was rather cliche
You tore down every shred of confidence before bed
A war fought with tears and muscle clenches
You called yourself ugly, worthless, idiot , you said you weren’t enough,
undeserving of the good life has offer, you dance to the madman’s song,
you danced until the sun came up
And then, what seem to be the residue of a fighting man or woman
You made a menagerie, a collage with the shreds
And you walked out, you walked like you made yourself
Brian Rihlmann Aug 2018
A political meme is posted,
it enters my brain
through my eyes
as I skeptically squint
and grimace
and even groan
when the ******* bell
goes ding-ding-ding!

If the pile is big enough,
and stinks badly enough,
I break out my shovel...

After a bit of digging,
I post my nuanced reply
complete with links
debunking yet another
specious assertion
or one dimensional caricature.

I smile, imagining
how dazzled they will all be
by my obvious insight
and wisdom!

Then I sit, and wait,
as crickets chirp
across thousands of miles
of fiber optic cables

and my friend list
shrinks...
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2023
sensitivity: or the bearing of (a) soul...
i am almost tempted - no, i was:
almost tempted to omit the indefinite article
in that sentence,
it almost "almost" sounds better...
hence a "rephrasing":

    sensitivity: or the bearing of soul...

because it's not unlike the soul is something
either definite or indefinite that requires
some grammatical forensic articulation

say, unlike the Freudian trinity ego egg and ****
that schematic monstrosity of
19th century (late 19th century)
bourgeoise neurotic-sensibilities
fetishised by people with enough
luxury: time, money to evaluate ciphers
in dreams...

no no, oh no... none of that...

i've come to a parallel vision,
by now there have been two focal women in my life:

my life is a tragic echo-chamber realism,
it's like i'm utterly attached to reality
albeit - not however - consummating olden
wordings... hmm... a hmm for every hunchback
ghost-limb scratch...

zahnschleifenliebe:
apostrophes the raised commas...

i've come to a parallel vision,
the women per se but more to the point:
how these women sheltered me from media ingestion,
so much so that i can positively make

Russia and Kauai (Hawaii) synonyms in terms
of how little exposure i had to
the brainwashing fabric / fabrication of
they grey man of reaction - the mob facet, pivot...

a month in Russia (with the language barrier)
and a month on Kauai...
because there's no IN relating to Hawaii...
in Russia implies: a land-locked geography,
you can never be IN Hawaii,
you are always somehow ON Hawaii...
a ship or something, most certainly an island:
and spin-spin-go-go going nowhere...
no one says (i think, therefore probably n00b)
i'm in... no wait...

doesn't matter...
leading articles in the Saturday Times
november 18 2023... the editorial section...
what's not to like?
i.e. defenders of the apostrophe are right
to admire this versatile linguistic device...

elses' sloppy...

         residents of Twyford, Hampshire,
dispossessed by the council's adoption
(i was almost fine with the spelling adoptation,
until i realised... porridge partridge
creases in white shirts, ****)

         St. Mary's Terrace a St. Marys Terrace...
apostrophe as indicator of 's: possessive article
since... the plural article is simple s
and the possessive plural article is s'

      and no S'S... schultzschnoofstafforshire!
brr... coldness of memory reaching as far back
as the finest army uniforms ever on show:
that Hugo Boss brigade: because what good
is the Holy Scripture without the Holy Evil
of the Nazis... admiration...
can't compare: since it's so easily revised and
thrown at opposition by the left... oids...
lefty politics is better than religion in terms
of it being a neo-******...
it's what gets my heart in a flutter
   whenever i feel apathetic...
   can't beat a mythological case for pure evil...

ah... me off on a tangent...
two months in my life i was sheltered from being
influenced by media... all done by women
with the Edenic rapture of ***...
once at 21 with a 19 year old
and once at 37 with a 55 year old...
as a ****** i covered the whole Cold War
dynamic, ****** for both sides
and ****** both sides
and thus still strapped to the Mniema...
Niemy - dumbfounded Germanic
sieve...          third cousin from Saxon
through Dutch to English... wasps...

            so it's almost ridiculous how i made
English a language of choice of how to express
while those sorry sods write about
identity politics and immigration mentality...
i'm just bothered that i can't be exactly
Essex accented because my standard cosmopolitan
London 'ing-leash is just so...
    
oh i got drunk last night... i had to...
never in all the shifts i worked at Wembley
did i manage to get home so quickly...
waited 0.5sec for the Metropolitan line at
Wembley park station,
then waited 2min at Finchley road for the jubilee
line... 4 stops to Bond street
and "waited" / utilised the time to walk
the entire platform for the Elizabeth line...
then 3min waiting for the 499 bus
so i had time to buy myself a bottle of cider
get off the bus and drink it at a bus stop...
pre-drinking... marvelous pouring rain...
like... shattering of a mirror...
a shattering of a mirror into a nth term
eye mandala of Jung... or Tool...

shift finished early by 10:30pm
and i was happily in my garden drinking at 11:50pm
the harder liquor...

but on the train...
hmm... wooden ring deterrent...
so could have thought, but no...
she spotted me coming in at Tottenham Court Rd
stood in the aisle... played with her hair...
fiddled with it at first then pretended to
put it in a bun...
admired herself in the glass...
well... i wasn't having much fun listening
to Wardruna's Fehu or Helvegen...
so by the time she sat down across me
and phoned a friend i had already muted the music
and started listening...

bad date... no... a funny date...
oh jeez the complications... a shorter guy...
same matted hair...
easy conversation and no... over dinner...
no drinking...
but all this flirting...
standing on my feet for 12 hours straight
started to massage my legs...
what the hell does she do?
exposes her knees...
                                     subtle clues and cues...
this whole bonanza of a woman playing
with her hair...
in close proximity...
i know the psychological mantra spewed
into making our behaviours predictably constipated
like we've lost our own mystery...
like philosophy reached a cul de sac
when psychology became mainstream...
i don't want to hear it...
i still want to be mesmerised by...
an ontological perfume... a trace of being:
not a full-blown existential schematic
of / for automatons / zombies...

rule of thumb regurgitation (of) reincarnations,
perhaps it was the age-power dynamic
of i'm older she's younger
i have signs of grey implying wizened
where my beard begins and no sideburns "exist"
and yes: she didn't have a chance to show-off her
dress... and yes... i did notice she had
furry eyebrows or at least she fashioned
them like so...
        by now i'm rekindling the strange commute
because i played along
with the subtleties of flirt
   implying that i was covertly replying to her
almost subliminal messaging tactic...
hell: come to think it... this wasn't subliminal!

next thing i'll hear another doppelganger comparison
that i've stolen the shadow of Brad Pitt
or Chris Hemsworth... pity i have a ******
looking surname like ****** or Stalin...
but i will not be called Matt when i stress to be called
by my name proper...
someone at work once said:
only my mother gets to call me Matthew...
well in my case i'm Mateo... so... debunking Italian
in the Dąbrowski March...

oh yeah... there are only one or two maybe three
decent national anthems...
the French the Polish and the Russians
have the most appealing national anthems...
just like there's a genius to Abba
but hardly any in the Beatles... period...

so much for music:

gladius Rōmae imperī sum,
ubi’st nostrum imperium?
nē plōrā, mater Rōma,
dēnuō flōrēbis

Βελισάριος Βελισάριος - Oₕ        Aₕ
                                                  ₑₔₑₙ'ₛ

                            Eden's Siamese chim'pan'zees...

U turn into (∇) the nebula of Nabla:

(ego): Σ of being....

      Σsum =  fractus + fractus
1/2 + 2/1
ergo              Σsum = -1/2 always...

the half that's constantly missing you...
the power of *** and the dangers of ***...
i should have learned it at the brothel...
but it was all oh so casual like treating meat
in cuts before ensuring that the *******
were saved for the main course on a different
day and the rest of the chicken was used
to make a clear chicken soup
with carrots, leeks, parsley roots, celery,
celeriac...
this emotional investment is...
   a liberation and a project of self-awareness:

how will i try to sound less synthetic less
robotic?

i'm not even trying to be cryptic but my heart
is complicating what i want to say
and i don't want to say what it feels
with my cognitive wants,
notably utilising noun or verb crutches...

which is why i want to conjure "lesser" historical
figures... not that Philip Augustus of France
is a "lesser" figure... not when coupled
to the dynamic of Henry II, John and Richard I...
while Charlemagne stands alone...

by now this piece of writing has become music...
there is no investment in plot...
language can become just that... music or painting...
there's no conveying of direction,
there's no wisdom, wisdom as direction...
to hell with Levant wisdom...
i'll be the last man of the north
to listen to the "wisdom" of the desert...
i will dearly cut off this influence from my psyche...
gladly crucified the ****** and so be done with it:

to the point where, professionally:
we tried to stamp out racism with anti-racism:
i can't be an anti-racist...
i find racists a rather funny breed of people...
racism expressed unintentionally is
so rewarding... because it follows from
the basic principle of colour as meaning:
traffic... red is stop, amber is be ready
and green is flow... even though blue is more associated
with flow... then again... most rivers look green...
well... beside the Thames sun and concrete starved...

not since Ginsberg's poem i heard the word
***** hair coming from... well...
some sort of Arab, given his name was Fawad...
so some ****** version of piglet-pink
not marred by the cold of the north of Europe...
oh hell... we're in this together somehow...
no impeding Mongolian horde yet still
the best horror story i ever heard came
from my father:

i had a childhood friend once...
he committed suicide...
why? he was seeing this girl...
then the girl started to **** my father's friend's father...
epic horror story...
which is sort of me... right now...
i can conjure up this insecurity in
my current relationship...
she could easily take to my father
and usher out my mother into the street...
i like this fetish-fear...
it's a phobia-philia...
    anti-Oedipal and more: Kronos affirming...
just like i like the idea of the ancient Roman
practice of fostering children...
because i have no gene-incentive to speak of
because genes are fractions while
ideas are whole numbers... fetishist par excellence:

fluid French thinking, if thinking is French or was...
oh but it sort of it... since pragmatism is English
and thinking for thinking's sake is
not really pragmatic it therefore must be French
and if anything is to be resolved it has to be resolved
on Greenwich Mean Time terms... blah blah...

for now, just that... an exercise in writing.
Satsih Verma Oct 2016
No it will not work.
The amalgam of arrival
and departure.
Debunking the theme
of reincarnation, you enter into the body of a poem.

Crowned and faded out,
all the icons were diminishing
in stature.A winter bath
tries to hold the halo-
for sometime, and then disappears
in obscurity.

Where the things go wrong
and connectivity snaps?
The tall people, yes very tall,
crumble under the weight of anonymity.
When you climbed down from
the pedestal, light was dim.

Did you ever receive a blast in face?
Michael Marchese Apr 2020
Just a funky punk monkey
Still hunkering down
In a bunker
Like nuclear waste
Underground
In debunking  
Dysfunctional
Government sites
Black as nights
Without stars
Shedding light
On the sighting
Of UFO
Not so reality
Shows
I have seen
Where the wild things go
In a dream
From a nightmare returned
To tell tales
No one cares
To oblige
Even moments in passing
Me by
To describe
What utopia
Really implies
And belies
To the eye
And its peace of mind’s
Cheapest disguise
As a verdant oasis
Of homeostasis
Devoid of all suffering
Heinous disgraces
But parity
Rarely exists
In such forms  
That impurity
Prurient norms
Haven’t borne
The frail weight of the psalm
Before storm
Or the thinly veiled
Heavy crown
Lying adorns
For each rose has its thorn
And despite the new flower
In bloom on the Horn
By the ivory towers
Into
I was torn
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2020
i own
a bed...

          but i rather...

sleep on...

a hardened...
wooden

flooring...

          that there's
an excuse
for a three-some:

soak of two stags...
and two: and a third....

glory hole:
waiting...

        tiny-rubberband,,,
hell-spew: nue-spawn
of the loitering:

third ***** of lesotho...
this... diatribe prince...
blank pawn- and panther...
spawn... best: retort:

a time when racial differences:
where a last:
difference binding
incremental loitering...
lining...

          the rancid "quid"....
copper-flaking...
my most adhered to...
bubble-wrapping...
          my loot and loitering...
skim-reading of erasmus...

      gas-lit...
             incubus...
the last salvaged barber shopping...
that sort of trim...
that rhapsody in...
sub-topic...
*******... debunking measures...
spawn: en vogue...
belitteling meausures...
facing the *****-bank...
basics... and new world conquering...
this great... unfamiliar past
of the bleach panther...

       chain-locket and a mirror of
surprise...
about 4 children later...
some variation of first towed along
"love"... my love my love...
the last lesson...
the first at arrived at grievance...
a bismarck: my last loaded:
sq. hope for a miser:
and some... variation...
a hello... a hello... a hello...

                  as best: heaved...
the last... a remnants of...
                        this a wording...
lost: to the autobiography...
of the U-boat captive...
or the panzer-tank... captive...

                confiscating the captives...
of the lesser man...
of the lesser man...
     confiscating the captives...
for all the time in the world...
and all the world...
was... this... time... most... limiting!
Daniel Albright Sep 2020
A Poem: Perifano ánthropoi.*

It's yeast in a warm water
It makes people dance to the tune of a flatter
It lives in the heart of self lovers and praisers
Not just the Igbos, even the Yorubas are its rearers


They feel they're eagles
Hence, they shouldn't give the hens chick a giggle
Not considering that God has put the answer to Lifes riddle
In the chicks brain needle


They reject rebuke
They believe they've known all the books
Relating with their fellow dreaming eagles
They'll descend into prides *** of stubbles


Honouring the affluent
Debunking their myopic, hungry and foolish desires speaking with a voice that is fluent
They are beside themselves and care less for others
Leaving a bad example for others


Money makes them inflated
Money won't take them beyond the grave that would be engrafted
They live under moneys control and in its school of foolishness
Worshipping it and spending it alone in selfishness


They are the mobile, "notice me" sign post
Speaking of every asset in foolishness toast
They live in yeasts swollen coil
They are Perifano ánthropoi.


© Daniels Pen ™ 2020.

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