Vail tied to a weathering mask
with a child in tow
who grows swollen

And swells like his mother
from which he reluctantly
reared his head

In what was called The Cadaver Twist
A ******* accident, no less

No virtue in a conscience yet to breech
A lesson likely learned early
If only ...

Paternal instinct as the peripheral
responds autonomously to the bottle
with intervals of grease pouring
down the gullet

The rain decimates in torrential strife
Laying in bog known as
What Once Was

we all flow through life like rivers
here and there, crested glimmers
sun shimmered
atop waves once ripples
at last glance of this looking glass..?
men surely shivered

locked in depths of mind
where feral thoughts blind
binded by
"my" mentality


the self is selectively obsessive
malevolent
eloquent
evident
in heaven sent temperament

I.

I..

I...

can do no wrong..

can do no wrong.

can do no wrong!

those with bias
revel in personally pious thought
a myriad of self destruction

pompous contemplation
decimates civilization


we all flow the same way
we all ride the same wave
once a ripple from a stones throw
bound to glimmer when we all flow

I grow weary of crafting words that are spun together
feeling as if there is a beauty spurting from my pain
because the words are still marching from your wellspring
and they're saturated in your sticky intoxication
It forces me to taste the sour fact that
the fire you set to my life still burns
and decimates ties strewn out of feeble love attempts
No matter the count of the condemnations of our life
you still dwell inside of my every word
and all of my metaphors
My vocabulary is limited to you and
you drag me below the pool of new words waiting on the surface
So I rewrite the same sentiments that play between
self loathing
heartbreak
and love

Write where you want me.

Call me stricken
by her
          my favorite color.

I want to fill my ears with static
to give my thoughts some room to move
and my eyes monochromatic
with an artistic side to prove


She writes
like shes giving
Noah Webster a *******,
her labyrinthine constructions
of consonants and vowels,
leading in circles
obliterating disbelief,
and I
          AM

the words.


She tastes like ***
and nostalgia
nauseating my pages,
wearing thin over keystrokes,
repetition,
               the mother of decrepitude
so my muse
               decimates my thoughts
          one in ten
     one in ten
one in ten
*CRACK

Lion-O
his sword raised
cries to the heavens
"THUNDER, THUNDER, THUNDER!"
Mumm-ra laughs and sends his troops
Lion-O decimates them
Thundercats, **!

Sometimes I wonder if we are really all listening
Or just too distracted with the African diamonds glistening
Sold to you by Zales, yet every kiss begins with Kay.  
Fat and lazy fast food crazy
Chasing highs blinded thinking they really have it their way

The devices in our possession finally allow us to progress as one people.  We can connect with others oceans away and together rid the world of evil.  The destructive misuse of power is felt when we see the segregation.  Responsibility has been shed for more tax cuts, when some live unsure they will make it.  Fabricated stories facilitate war - on drugs, ideas, and our collective growth.  
So I must ask
When these tragedies happen, who actually benefits the most?  Making sure to add "terrorist acts" under a potential insurance claim just days before buildings imploded to dust rather than be eaten by flames, or severed with a plane.  The man who did this was named Larry Silverstein.  Interviews after he seemed cold, devoid of soul, and mean.  Arms dealers, oil companies, and bank executives, carry out these plots that are now repetitive.  Play with the heartstrings of one's own people, that think they can veil everything but I know we're not feeble, and in all these other places we're beginning to feel.
Cheney's Halliburton rebuilds nations after war decimates the ground.  Yes, let's let our pockets pay any amount, grind ourselves 45 hours a week so with our taxes they can play around.  Still staying stiff in the position promising your wishes will come true.  But again the scapegoat ***** your hope of political action bringing something new.  
While blowing ourselves away the frame becomes unglued.  This cancer is man made and he wants to redesign you. Analyzes with the force of a brute. Built tall walls with his flaws that only allows the seven deadly sins in.  Will he in his mind ever decide to see the sun again?  Can he really say that to himself he is a friend?  Meanwhile a governor of Flint, Michigan is okaying lead be let in to the water system, 9,000 now are poisoned.  We're talking families complete with children.  Speaking on topics like this, I do not have fun.  But the divine needs to shine wherever necessary.  If we don't speak now we could head into a reality that's only more scary.  No more families buried until they carry out their long lives.  I will honor Mother Nature and the life she provides.  As the Amazon depletes, the air needs more trees.  Less chemicals drifting into our systems as we eat and breathe.  Fearlessly pure we become free.  With eyes on the skies we leave our feet, articulated honest advancement.  Through conscious choice and proper management.  
No one owns you or where the lands currently sit, but you'll probably hear different from the government.  

We are all one, and life will go on.
Sun shines on our land every day at dawn
Balances created keep our hearts in motion
Close your eyes and see the focal point of your devotion.  Music gave me a way to see inside there lies the potion - to take my emotion and share the reflections to other oceans

Anya sings words I would
rather she have not spoken
and decimates what little remained
between us all.

He looks to me and I
pointblank-sawnoffshotgun refuse
to meet sight of sapphire sky eyes
now too singing along
to her song.

My mother always said
you were two sides of the same paper
and you will both slice me the same.

But scissors always win;
laceration's chorus croons to all.

Origami smiles
so carefully cultivated as
I kindle our final swansong,
a celebration in flames -

simultaneous ignition of
friends to lovers
and that irrevocable rendering; razing
lovers to ash.

The line of freedom was drawn,
fortunate passports found
amongst the rubble of Ground Zero.

The future was not a boot,
more, groping hands through
intimate pockets
and blue light that decimates
the privacy of dreams.

No concentration camps,
Bernays fuelled the fire­
in a wolf's disguise
until the crowd would herd itself.

No Aryan prophecy-
hatred more efficient
when its hands are untied.
Small disparities linger
the stem of deception:

the bottom-feeders are sterilised,
benefits withdrawn, foundations exposed
as ******* palms gather the loot
they lifted through the ceiling.

Sensory comfort provides
the leisure of a clouded mind,
a blood sugar spike,
the Soma of our time.
Under halogen lights
they make love in the high-rise

then labour in sleep
for what love cannot afford.

Continents divide.
Africa: the cold shoulder.
Asia: the factory line.

Oceans swell in neoprene heat
as sling-shots are drawn
beneath a dying star.
Old skull of Palestine,
cross-hairs on the White House
and a contusion in Pakistan.

Doors of perception only open to addiction.
Separate from G-d ,
draw more blood from the ground
like a smoker in the inexhaustible
process of quitting.

A belief in infinity
that will last until the world's end.

The line of freedom was drawn.
Everyone believed that they were on the right side.

to be compressed beyond all thought to nothing
singularity
by guilt that pursues all preferences and destroys.
decimates you
when you wake up from the dream
the dawn comes
and you deem
all things as problems
Cause things you try for are destroyed
things you love are void
all passions are forgotten

and nothing
but: pain, torture, derelict,
are left.
a consuming hold strangles you to complete restriction of vein
all weather is told to stop
all your brain begins no calculations
standstill of formal
sis decease

the quandary of feeling just. so much pain
just so much problem
just so much manipulation of self telling you that you will be ok and knowing.

it is a lie

just like the things you've always felt
the things you've always been through
car washes that laser you to nothing
to nothing of worth like dirt. yet lower. demoted
promoted from **** and compiled to none
divided enjoyed and summed to the sum
of nematodic prevalence that ***** with your modesty
we must ****** this feeling of warmth
for if we don't take all the heat then the cold will never come
and we will be like them.

Lightning was never meant to be tamed
Moreso by mortals
Ask the foolish and the brave
Who died trying
She belongs to nature
Her mistress is great and terrible
Who swallows villages on a whim
And decimates cities with a gesture
The tides and hail are hers to command
The very ocean and the earth her lackeys

Lightning is appreciated from a distance
Keep a wide berth if you value your life
It strikes and immolates
With nary a warning
It is beautiful as it is deadly
But why then
Just why
Do I override my instincts
And walk closer and closer to you
Even as the brushfires
Creep closer
Inch by consuming inch

The tree are whispering in hushed silent tones
Their voices carried softly by the wind
Caressing the whole forest with their hymns
Suffused in their cries, the arrogance
And greed, and vanity of men
Men that were tasked to guard creation!

Their chants deafening, echoing, increasing
In brave tumultuous waves
Growing ever louder
Pushing the rivers and tributaries into the seas
Infused in the currents
The laments of the helpless
Trampled, and ravaged, and killed
With violence and impunity!

Be wary of the axeman, the hunter, and the miner
They are lurkers, waiting in the dark canopies
Waiting for a chance to **** and pillage
To **** the forest out of its wits
Until it loses its lushness and vitality
'Til it surrenders its grip from the divine earth!

Be wary of the forest ranger
For they are the ones that orchestrates
The relentless and appalling ******
That decimates lives, hopes, and aspirations
They perpetuate the madness
They are the harbingers of chaos, they are destruction
Their charm, vile and putrid
To ever allow them recite their prose would be death!

But never despair,
The sleepers have woken
Those with quiet ears slowly hears the noise and commotion
The deniers have silenced their self-serving lips
Await that moment, when the silence is fractured
By the forest, howling in raging defiance
Justice will be swift, the wolves will be unraveled as sheep!

And only then says the oldest of the trees
Can the children of the forest roam free.

Heart, roused with blood
you are lively as the sun,
but ever are you small,
and fiendishly are you undone..

You are majestic,
and as important as Night,
but you are destined
to fail amidst this fight..

This fight..
Between Dark and Light,
too cold for the moon,
and too warm for the sun,
you increasingly sway to opposite ends
and ever do you believe to have faith
but your faith is melted upon my will...

Darkness rouses thee,
and in curiosity innocent,
you crack open the closet
that hides the dark commandment
that shall ever bind you in despair
and shall twist you though you were as air..

Light rejuvenates you,
and through the longing days
of evil trodden forth
you complacently design yourself
a structure of immunity
to swell and flee fast
against this growing evil seed..

Together you two,
designed by Love and Hate,
have conspired,
to remove the 3rd; Innate..
For no man on Earth,
nor in Skies, or in Seas,
might chose the middle,
where lies no man to be..

You might protect us,
and you might save us,
but you fuel a pollution strong,
that ever writhes within us,
a dichotomy of song
that ever equivocates us
and ever decimates us..

The Heart is our enemy,
and yet is our savior,
but it is not ours,
nor our being
you decide our fate so idiosyncratically,
and perceptual; to be such a misnomer,
For the Heart is a will, not a being, no, not even a power,
and is tortured by our breathing..

The Heart is a riddle,
no man yet may dare defy,
for within this heart is a circle
of ritual and lie..

The Heart is life,
but at it's own free will,
and it alone decides our strife
that with pain for it we seek to fill,
So how, on Earth, Heaven, or Hell,
does it list us as its friend,
and how does it follow us to the End?
Man may never tell...

DIARY OF A REBEL OUTLAW.


Today our world has been taken by the worst of humanity,
Infected by an incurable insentient of lusting man,
Those of us left are on the run of nonconformity,
hunted down to worship the material plan,
The infected are reduced to sleepwalkers with nightmares of ruin,
Puppets for the faceless that can crush worlds in the palm of their hand,
This threat destroys more than the free thinking human being,
This threat decimates the hope of our children’s children’s homeland,
My god if there is hope, hope there is god,
Hope he comes to where we stand,
Hope she leads us back from the edge of obliteration,
Hope he cuts the chains that bind our ****** hands,
Hope she drives us forward to the gates of revolution.
Hope he forgives our crimes against fellow man.

I am Jimmy.

Some days I wake up
                                                                  Mind torn from    
                                                           stress dreams
                                                                And no desire to breakdown
                                                                             On campus.
                                                                  So I skip class.
                                                        Trapped in my mental jailcell
                                                I dissect my compulsive thoughts
                                                      Only to see they stitched
                                                               Themselves back together
                                                             And are resistant to leave.
                                          On days I can grasp and hold my will
                                                                           I stew in class
                                                     Noticing my classmates
                                        Who speak louder than I do,
                                        Who answer questions more eloquently,
                                        And speak science fluently,
                                                               I am left to boil in my
                                                 Lack of voice, skill, and knowledge.
                                                             At the end of my first class
                                                                   I am already overdone,
                                             A husk goes to the remaining classes
                                                                                 For me.
                                                                     On days I wake up
                                                                                     Already
                                                                                  overwhelmed
                                                                        I skip class
                                                                                  To avoid
                                                                                                   Meltdown
                                                                      Fighting fire with Magma,
                                                                                this technique is
                                                                     purely self-destructive.
                                                                                           And I know it.
                                        Pressure builds like a volatile volcano…
                                                      I FAIL my classes and ERUPT
                                                   The peak that is my self esteem
                                      Shattered by emails from professors,
                                           The lava oozes down the slopes of Mt. Me
                                               “Maybe I don’t Belong  Here”
                                     Starts the a nearby tsunami forming
                                                                      Underneath my scalp
                                                           It gathers speed and force.
                                                           It decimates the cerebrum.
                                                                                       I have to rebuild...
                                              This land is recycled often
                       Tremors with magnitudes that match
                                                        My GPA
                                            Keep me vigilant and mindful
                                                               that collapse is part
                                                                       Of my nature                   The complex societies that are rebuilt within my mind always thrive
                                              ….at the beginning of next semester.

irregular, you came, your best clothes shining.   never mind. the first tune hit the mind, patterns and mathematics.   the kindness that is.



he said. machine you see.   glass reflecting.            slowly it starts repeating.   the walls of differing colours.  we have the dvds.                                          on and on repeating on and on repeating on and on repeating.



back to the counting, how many have there been, how many are left still standing. an issue for some, yet we  amend the figures here and move on. lucky ones,            maths divides and decimates others.



1.2



repeating.



sbm.

A nothingness wrapped
in mediocrity owns this
wall, owns your gaze.
Mere sheets and hints
of printed words pinned
to immensity, slathered
in greater glumps of white,
but the description makes it
less as you learn the painting
somehow represents
the communities fractured
by Eisenhower’s highways.
You look at it, then back
at the description. You step
away and travel to the video-
foot exhibit—a boot decimates
pumpkin pie on a screen,
and all you can do is thank God
that there isn’t a description
for this as well.

Over the exploding starry display of your smile,
Which mirrors diamonds placed in its “brilliance setting”,
I hover but lightly in my epiphany like this,
Praying my worded arrow does not your heart miss,

For as I stand firm and frozen in times great abyss,
dazed by the nebula of your lickerish scented lips,
gazing at all that bounty that there lies,
behind the luminosity of your Onyx puppy eyes,

I scarce but barely recant my ambushed surprise,
Yet only to retreat to my own reticent silence,
With the memory of your mastered image my only sustinence,
Your beauty decimates, defying sentience and sentence.

I want you to scream your lungs out today loud and proud
Bow your head and gesticulate all that you have vowed
Because if that art didn't echo cathartic it wouldn't make a sound
If you didn't chase the highest rungs the path is wayward bound
If life didn't motivate you there would be no drive
And if you weren't in motion then you wouldn't survive
And if you didn't bound from strife you wouldn't thrive
Because staying wound up doesn't allow for any pride
The sedentary life desecrates and decimates and pushes down our dreams
It bottles up and washes up all our clever schemes
It tricks you into thinking that you have no right to believe
That there is no reprieve to compensate a cold reality
Well I have got news to you warriors who fight
Continue on your path and scream singing blues and sharing might
Even if this a dream I don't need to be educated on mirth
It is the split second's impact where I feel it's worth
Remember to revel and celebrate and overcome the mind
Or ask yourself what kind of footsteps you want to leave behind

Certainly there is no such thing as rewind

Now is the time I am grateful to be alive
To prove my worth for my birth
The God that blessed my time
I am given golden hours
That no one can take from me
I am in charge and omnipotent
To hold the key and set me free
I was given the right to learn from my fear
To overcome what's been and yield strength within
And protect those who I hold dear
If I don't get to choose what affects me
Certainly I am given free will to protect me
The power of my mind to regulate what is perplexing and vexing until encountering the next thing
So if the only thing truly naked is my fear
Then maybe next time I'm down and out I'll remember that I was here
I'll remember my calling is so crystal clear and to humble myself
That I am fortunate and I am blessed
And only need to remind someone else

The war has started:
There is no denying that society is
Deteriorating.
All this racism, sexism, hate
Is aggravating
And is now activating
Another war
In which we will have to fight
Yet again
And begin delegating
And advocating
For what is right
And choose our leaders wisely
In this war that is generating
And is just so devastating
To think about and watch people
Suffocating
And separating.
But it's not too late:
We can still fight
And not further activate
This dangerous state
And end up having to put on armor plates to protect ourselves
Or having to relocate
Because it is no longer safe.
So let us concentrate
And focus on having out voices heard
Before it is too late
And the world decimates.

The vacation is done
But I don’t want to come home
Haven’t wrote anything all week
So when the driving starts
I don’t speak
My pen does
The fading suns plays hide and seek sneaking behind
Tall red brick building blinking and blinding me intermittently
The first thing I see
Outside of the frustrating congested city
Is a silver topped silo
Miles more away the world becomes
An infinite sea of green and browning trees
Clearing that cauliflower collective
Orange marked work zone signs pop up every ten miles
Redirecting my tired mind
To the side the favorite part of any ride I watch
Pools of shimmering water refract, reflect, and relax my tense body
As we pass them by
Grey clouds sporadically spit little bits of cleansing rain
Dead dry dragon clouds with a soft pink underbellies
Drift dangerously close to me
Darkness decimates the white light veil
Becoming a star strewn corn moon
Night sky
We still have a long drive
And I still don’t want to go home

Wednesday night drunk,
the sun lays so still
in its gray sarcophagus;
the sandy mid-rise
across the way
spits yellow blandings
into dead clouds;
the Aberlour bottle
raking its way
towards recycling.

O, that casual dismissal,
how it decimates -
"Thanks, Ev. You too."
But what do I know
of the little surgeries
of her evening?  
More whisky spills -
the sun's canopic heart?
I drank it,
it's gone.

Disaster:
A sudden event
An accident
A Catastrophe
Great damage or
Loss of life
A volcano
Decimates
The population
****
One
In ten
Teach them a lesson.
A decimation is punishment for the whole
Make an example out of them
See? It could be your skeleton
Freeze framed in a blanket of ash
Fossilized
An example made of you
for those who come after
Before us there was no disaster
Only event
The earth is that man
Holding the rifle
Righteous in his conviction
But he will not pass out cigarettes before he shoots you
It's all a choice:
End the war
Or we end up
Another fossil on the side of that grey gravel road

The transience
of everyday events.

The fear
that much experience
will pass me by.

These fleeting concerns
disturb my waking hours
and interrupt my sleep.

I lack a strength
of purpose.
I deplore
the weakness of my mind;
the doubts
that happiness will yet return;
that new growth of spirit
will spring from old;
that I will retain the faith
to go on building
from every death
that decimates my world.

And
I owe a debt.
I have a commitment.
I must maintain the will
to go on fighting.
I must retain the hope
that life and love
may yet be won.

And I must accept the fact
that dogmas may vanish,
that temples may fall,
that ikons may crumble,
and credence
may moulder.

But
Earth Abides

Which of these does man have control over? (Choose all that apply)

_ Rainfall deficits trigger biotic crisis
_ Acid rain decimates ecosystems
_ ICBMs rain down destruction
_ None of the above

back to the counting, how many

have there been, how many are left





still standing.



an issue for some, yet

we  amend the figures

here and move on.



lucky ones,  maths

divides and decimates

others.



yet it is the weave that holds

it all together, makes it strong.



be an example.



sbm.

imagination is my best drinking buddy
i’ll always pick up the check
on this prison planet, fantasy is the liberator
it pulls down every cloud
undresses the ladies
expunges adultery
pulverizes the patriarchy
obliterates mommy
flattens fatty tissue
bulldozes boredom
annihilates procrastination
decimates iron-poor literature
gobbles up poverty
overthrows the workplace
abolishes taxation
liquidates profit
exterminates capitalism
confuses the cops
torpedoes certainty
trashes common sense
wrecks mortality
exterminates the divine
fantasy, the one-stop shopping mall
of freedom