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Michelle Lynne Sep 2013
To be a human being is to be riddled with thousands of imperfections.
Full of flaws; scrapes, spots, and scars cover broken and bruised skin.
But robots need not fear and fret about fixable, trivial defections.

Humans perpetually throw themselves at cold, apathetic, greedy clinicians
Only to be given terrible news and told there is no cure for a horrid death.
Meanwhile, robots bask in the glow of love from a passionate technician.

Humans can never agree when it comes to the dealings of the heart.
Always one-sided, they take turns ruthlessly destroying each other.
Robots, oblivious to the issues of any and all feeling, live freely.

Naive humans will work tirelessly, only to see nothing but certain failure,
But life has never once benefited those of us who are currently living.
So, humans crafted robots, to always succeed where they could not.
Claire Ellen Jun 2013
What have these fairy tales made us afraid of?
Step moms and snakes?
there is more to life that living in fear,
And there is more to fear than being afraid.
Fear is a feeling of many natures and forms,
Including step moms and snakes.
Fear isnt only brought on by dark,
fear is in love too,
and fear is in hate.
Fear is in a butterflies first flight,
and fear is in our tummys,
when something is not right.
The Sound of Music showed us more than the sights of Austria,
It showed us how to sing,
Some times the fear is in what we already know.
Fear can control if you let it,
and after you see it,
its hard to forget,
But you can replace your with something bigger.
Bigger than the night time,
I am the stars.
I'm not in heaven, but when i'm
with you i'm
close.
You are faster than the night,
and sneakier than the clock ticking past noon.
On a Saturday, you are the Sunday afternoon.
The fear is less now.
You are ahead of my own thought,.
You know my bed,
You know i have zebra sheets,
and a red stain in the corner.
You know my body,
dimples and scars.
You know all the perfections, and defections.
The fear is less and less now.
Our kisses enable me to hear,
clocks ticking around the world.
you taste like...
words are to meager to describe.
There goes the fear,
There it goes,
out the window,
and into the hearts of those,
Step moms and Snakes.
I'm not dissing on Step moms in the poem, its just... the way I wrote it. Please don't be offended! and enjoy!
Big Virge Sep 2020
Excuses Excuses...
So MANY EXCUSES... !!!

For The Type of Looseness...
That Has Embraced NOOSES... !?!

EXCUSES For THIS...
EXCUSES For THAT...

EXCUSES For Plans...
That Have CORRUPTED Man...

BAD EGGS In The Batch... !!!
Where Policeman Are Hatched... !!!

Oh YES Bad Eggs INDEED... !!!
Is How RACIST Cops Be...
When RACISM Feeds...
Their Motives On Streets...

And In Turn How They Deal...
When They’re Using Their Knees... !!!

And Using Their... GUNS...
Like These Tasers That Stun... !!!

And Choke Holds That DON’T... !!!!!
When They Leave People COLD... !!!

Excuses UNFOLD...
Even When They Are Shown...
To Move... So Much SICKER...
Than Those Known As KILLERS... !!!

Excuses Come QUICKER...
Than Confession Sinners... !!!

Because of Protection...
These Bad Eggs Be Getting...
From Those Who NEED VETTING... !!!
BEFORE They Pass Sentence... !!!!!

These Excuses I Mention...
Are Those With DEFECTIONS... !!!

That Need REAL CORRECTION...
That’s Neutral And... CENTRED... !!!

Like... Natural Selection... !!!

There Are Others That SMOTHER...
...... Historical Blunders...... !!!
Like Those Now UNCOVERED...
About... CERTAIN Brothers...
Who Sold Their Own Mother’s... !?!

For... Colonial Masters...
A... FACTUAL DISASTER...
That’s Been So Well Plastered...
That EXCUSES Run Talk...
That IS STUPID And FLAWED... !!!
When It Comes To The Past...
And YES... Slavery Paths... !!!

You See Some EXCUSES...
Breed... MORE THAN Denial... !!!

They Hold Certain Files...
That Are TRULY OBSCENE...
Within... Black History... !!!

Like Those Now EXPOSED...
About... Certain White Folks...

Who’ve Earned Money For Shows...
With... BLACKFACE Videos...
And RACIST Themed JOKES... !?!

That Are FORCING These Peeps...
To Make... APOLOGIES...

As If They Will CLEAN...
Their Slates With Black Peeps’... ?!?

And Of Course Yes EXCUSES... !!!
For Things They’ve Been Doing...
That Lacked... Racial Prudence...

So Just Like The Others...

These Excuses PROVE LOOSENESS...
Is Something That Humans...
Exude In Their Movements...

And In... CERTAIN CHOICES...
That Have Done MORE Than POISON... !!!

Yes... HUMANITY... !!!

When... ACCOUNTABILITY...
Is What NEEDS To INCREASE... !!!

Because These FALLACIES...
Are What Make Some Heads Feel...
That It’s Best To... "Conceal"...

Themselves Behind LIES...
And... FRAUDULENT Deeds... !!!

And The Need To Keep Choosing...

To AVOID Being TRUTHFUL...
Instead of Indulging...

... In All These...

......... “ EXCUSES “....... !!!
Kind of getting sick of hearing them now....
Installed in the Eclectic Parallel World of the invisible portal of Saint John the Evangelist, everything levitated in his sacred basaltic cavern in Katapausis, in the Patmos archipelago (Koumeterium Messolonghi, Chapter 16 / page 114. Editorial Palibrio-USA). They would find themselves in communion with the clan count, resembling being in their proper ectoplasm; conforming to the only part of masonry ruled to redirect them in the messianic workings of the ascension stages. Vernarth; he besieged in the conscious state of him having to adhere to the cavern, after having finished his labors by waiting three months. He risks being consumed by the myriads and conflagrations, retracting them in parapsychological clouded ways, which subsisted to consecrate themselves in the lavish places divided towards the horizon. The iridescence threatens the primary ultraviolet, lifting the carriage of Apollo Citar, a neighbor of the astronomical cave sketch of the Muse Urania. A lame nuance escapes and dissolves from his mathematical prayer, capturing the spiritual intensity that inspired Saint John to build the temple near his cave of the Apocalypse on the island of Patmos, inserted in the death throes of his embryonic revelation, to pour him into the Megaron to build.

The saint appears only on certain days looking at Vernarth from afar, to encourage him in his progress on the rocky rocks of sharp silica, he is seen as a beautiful adonis dressed in a chlamys with delicate pinkish tones. With such scruples, he redounds a psalm of the angel that normally accompanies the Evangelist around him, with greenish and indigo tones in the perspective quadrinomial of heaven, that he was perishing in his most afterlife redemption in the glory of the empyrean. More convenient than the superlative spiritual intelligence irrigated with the aldehyde, and the condensed water of Skalá, in hecatombs that indicated anarchies of the luminous prophetic men and the habit of the exokarstic soil, endowed with a small perforated Epsilon demon, obtaining its chemical weathering in certain limestone rocks, dolomite, and plaster. Diverting the attention of Etréstles that he glowed overwhelmed and charred. He was not stopped by the currents of splendor and the stormy pollutions of Cymopolea, in his hieratic invocation of the scalded typhoons of the drills of Hephaestus. This demon could be Tytillinus timorous in the defections of the deities of Mnemosyne relegating himself from his precepts, which according to this legend induced protervas inclinations of the clergy during the omitted religious services, he is the one that Saint John the Evangelist feared, that he would not give him the Asfalés Pérasma “license” to enter and be able to commission them in tasks that had been predicted for the Katapausis services after the quarterly. The Travertine silica, with residual sedimentary rocks, was partialized from the extrinsic biogenic that is deposited outside, the travertine predicted the monumental rocky karst of Patmos, for the secretions of calcium carbonate, among so much modest certainty taking you through the Invisible Eclectic Portal, and their Mundis Parallel that crashed with attached carbon molecules that, in disarray, manned them. The chasm was a cascade of weathering that became stalactites in the runes of the travertines, Thermo dynamizing the cavities that were conceived in the invisible caverns, under the parallel caves of the translucent travertine and in the sapwood of the troglodyte ghosts, materializing on the top wind tunnel.

Vernarth; I was with everyone working in the building of the Temple near the outside walls of the Cavern of San Juan, there was Etréstles Eurídice, Raeder, Petrobus, and Alikanto immersed in the Aulos who rang about exciting their ears with the royal denotes, which always had a special quality when he remained in Kalimnos. In good ink, knowing that the entire limen of proximity to the cavern was flooded by the enigmatic revulsive with the presence of Tytillinus, all are reordered towards the poles of tangible etherization with Psalms 120 to 132, thus they would give the antipode disposition with the Divine Mercy, to compensate the crown of the fifteen hours in the afternoon, thus disintegrating the agonizing parallel world that coincides with that of the fifteen hours in the morning. Somehow refraining from the northern paragon with the Tytillinus' shadowing, with the hooks of bewilderment and its scathing thoughts. With precisely this conspicuous shape; Vernarth will allow himself to be swallowed by the beast and reside in his abrasive stomach, making him believe that it will be consumed by him, so that he will soon fall close to it when vomited, thus confusing him, to make him believe that he was the same baby from his conceived womb. Vernarth manages to capture this exotic sinister image near the sinkhole, seeing him depressed in the Tytillinus Prisco; where all attentive listened to the textual vocabularies of the beatific, with the fruit of Karpos, for the benefit of a descendant gained by defeating the devil.

The European Sibilla carried the Gladius in his hand but exchanged it with the Xifos alternately for the death of innocents entrusted by Herod the Great, and for the evasion of the Holy family into Egypt. This confirms the liturgical grouping of the Easter Triduum; alluding to the passion of Christ, and perpetrating the pain of the Devout at his death, and triumphant at his resurrection. The sense of surrealism transports Saint John digging in all the layers and hordes of the Faith, his component of tribulation moved in the Egyptian and Greek cartography, mobilizing the triangular areas of the Palan, which moved in a geometric block reaching the edges of the hypotenuse gradient and the wind tunnel that lifted them, cornering the beast that visited them, pretending to be weak and imprecise. The man will carry the simile of his name, with hyperbole more or less in men who dare not to anticipate the conflicts of the gained space.

Vernarth, plots to continue insinuating with his labors, sees with optimism escape from this calamity, calls everyone to be close to the law ..., once they continued taking the steps towards the cavern. He emerges from convulsions on all edges of the cave, leaving everything dark and with vanities deterred at the end of the temporal Mundis Parallel. In the intermission, Saint John towards the response of Psalm 120 to 132, the fiery roar of the playful roar of the Tytillinus interferes, banishing the shaking of its **** to banish it from the Basilisk's egg, avoiding creating its heavy monarchy over them by prostrating them, as if to dissent. by being repentant or beheaded. Saint John the Evangelist will be an egregious demonologist, compiling thick volumes with the names of the attributions of each of the demons of infernal hierarchy. In this Venusian Aion symmetry, he moves them interconnecting with sublime periods where the intuition of the zafral of the human scale is lost, and of the archetype of Satanism or Satagenesis, with austere precision that includes Leviathan, ruler of the demons, to Ukobach, procurator of keeping the infernal flames alive. So that the manumission of slavery finally reigns according to one's own demonized moral individuality. The amount of an invocation of this type is always the soul of the unconscious individual, who will end up going to be squeezed into the underworld. The demons are invoked and they will invoke themselves in their dawn, to walk in their own darkness of the stagnant past, the mechanized present, and the multidimensional conscious future by means of exclusive enchantments that will be found here in the Mundi Parallel of the Invisible Eclectic Portal.
Codex XXIII - Mundis Parallel Portal Eclectic Invisible
Big Virge Sep 2021
I've Had This Said...
A Couple of Times...

My Cadence Is TIGHT...
When Reciting Rhymes... !!!

The Movement of Sound...
When I... Vocalise...

Which Is Also Known...
As... INTONATION...

If You're Reading This... ?
That's.... Education.... !!!
Cos' Words Like These...
Have Close Relations... !!!

NO NOT Like THAT... !!!
But That's A... FACT... !!!

Intonation And Cadence...
Make For Good Entertainment... !!!
When Done With STYLE... !!!

But You NEED A Good Voice...
That Is... TOP Choice... !!!

And Keeps The Ladies....
Slightly... " MOIST "...

Pay Attention Now Boys... !!!
Cos' A Voice That's SWEET...
Can Help You Get...
Girls In Your Sheets... !!!

YES For... RELATIONS... !!!!!
So We're Back Again...
To... INTONATION...

If You Use It WELL...
You Make Pulses RISE...
Just Like... INFLATION...
Or Just Like England's Taxation... !!!

But KEEP Your Cadence Moving On...
Keep It Slick And NOT TOO Blatant...
Cos' This Can Make Some ...
LOSE Their...................... Patience... !!!

Then Your Message Is LOST...
Like Beds For Patients... !!!

Intonation Is A Wonderful Gift...
So I'm Using Mine For Poetic Scripts...
Cos' When The Two Get Together...

It's A... PERFECT FIT... !!!!!

Like Guns And Clips... !!!
Or Cues And Tips...
Or A Great Pair of Lips...
Around A STIFF... DRINK... !!!!!

Did You Get The Link... ?
See Words I Write...
Make People THINK... !!!

And Leave Some Resting....
On The... BRINK... !!!

Or On The... VIRGE... !!!
Cos' Some of My Words...
Make People... SINK...
Into Leather Chairs...
Talking To... Shrinks... !!!

But Cadence Linked To Intonation...
Makes My Message Seem Less Blatant...

My Message Is Honed...
To... UNIFY Nations...
Through Usage of Prose...
And... INTONATION... !!!

Are You With Me Folks... ?
Can You See The... " Relation "... ?
Or BETTER Still The Slick Connection... !!!

My Message Is STRONG...
And Has... Direction... !!!

But Does Inflection...
DIVERT............ Attention... ?!?

Well THAT's A Subject...
WORTH... Inspection... !!!

Does My Voice Attract... ?
Or Is It Because I'm BIG and Black... ?!?
And Do NOT Run From PAINFUL Facts...
When Using Words To WOUND Infections... !!!
And EXPOSE THOSE Who Have DEFECTIONS... !!!

Sometimes I Laugh...
When I Read This Stuff... !!!

Cos' CLEARLY Some Get In A HUFF... !!!
And Wish That I Would Just SHUT UP... !!!

That's Cool With Me...
But PAY ATTENTION PLEASE... !!!!!

My Poetry Will NEVER Freeze... !!!
And NOBODY Will Stop My Speech...
From Reaching Those It NEEDS To REACH... !!!

Well Someone CAN...
Guess Who... Yes ME... !!!

But That I'm Afraid Is UNLIKELY... !!!
Cos Yoda Has Instilled In Me...

THESE Three words...

… ”It's Your Destiny !" …

I'm FEELING That...
Are You Feeling ME... ?

Feel Free To Applaud...
If You Like My Style of Poetry... !!!

I'll Continue To Read...
While My Mind Runs FREE...
And Want My Words...
To OUTLAST me... !!!

Through Publishing And OTHER Things...
Like TEACHING The Dumb To STOP KILLING... !!!

But THAT Will Be WITHOUT My Voice...
Soothing Mics' With Baritone Noise...

Well That's The FUTURE...
But While i'm Here...
I'll KEEP ON Speaking And Relating...

By Using STRONG...

... " Cadence and Intonation " ...
LISTEN HERE :

https://soundcloud.com/user-16569179/cadence-intonation/s-3p70o
David Rombouts Dec 2014
Do you ever come across that feeling of melancholy?
When you’re going too fast on that midnight trolley
Your head starts spinning in unfamiliar directions
While you’re left there, looking for defections

Do you ever feel like you aren't enough?
Everyone thinks it’s all a big bluff
But deep down inside you know it’s true
The whole world around you starts to turn blue

Do you ever feel that obligation?
When in school you want certification
Gaining the card that classifies you as
That one guy who is cooler than jazz

Do you ever feel pressured to fall?
Into a love in which you can’t call
A pointless relation clouds your mind
Pushing you farther from what you might find

Do you ever feel like you try too hard?
To fit into a jigsaw, but instead bombard
Looking for a clique that suits you best
Coming to feel like you’re better than the rest

Do you ever feel like you can’t be found?
Lost inside your own impound
Deceived by self-inflicting thought
You continue to feel even more distraught

Do you ever just want to run away?
Leave behind your past and go astray
Forget the life you lived at home
And elsewhere discover a new throne

Do you ever feel like life is a game?
A game in which you can’t come to claim
The honorable title as the winner
Settling down for the same old dinner

Do you ever wonder if you’re treated unfair?
You live thinking that you cannot bear
The dreadful thought of being singled out
Making you want to scream and shout

Do you ever feel like nobody understands?
Like you’re the only one stuck within the strands
Trapped inside an ignorant state of mind
Only to come all this way and find…
That you were wrong all along
It was all just a mixed up song
These steps you take throughout high school
Turn you into some kind of rotten fool

One day you will come to see
That it was all part of the journey
You’ll take it in and walk down your path
Knowing that the worst of the wrath—
Is over…

-David Rombouts-
This poem portrays a visualization of the mindset I have as a high school student. Surely you can relate...
Julian Aug 2020
Septuagint prince scribing on scrivello detail
Emerges from the frogmarch grave of revenants sheepish about ghoulish masquerade
The tribes whittle puckered shibboleths and charismatic vengeance evades
The henpeck of roosters harmonizing sand into grassy knolls of carapace cathedral light
Walks beyond the whimsical despair the conniving conservatories of manufactured fright
Spurned by smokestack confusion above a plastered reconnaissance of abundant life flocking between small awakenings curtailed by fulgurant swelters of blistering white
The spectral dance assumes primordial shades to dampen the windowed elegance of betrayal complicit in the haze
Mojo’s rise and fall with moonshot decades flashing intimacy lived twice barking like a squelched gyrovague relishing the kantikoys of burlesque night
And yet among the bemused stars unbuttoned by the prolixity of the Russia ruse the smear indelible flaunts with decadence in the pleonasm of sluggish articles of flight
How long must the messianic age shelter the nebbich halls of crambazzled piety in science to an upbringing of oligochrome
How many dastardly wernaggles of the rusticated elitism flomp with desultory banquets reminiscent of boiling Rome
Incinerated in an ageless day revived only after a historic lapse of barbarity in the ferule exacted such immeasurable despair
That the prejudice of pride is forever shelved as redundant because the filigrees of geometry only permit curvature in flatness
Convex movements captured in still-framed pillories refract nothing but Blazing Saddles of a caricature full-bloom sun
Yet we marvel at storybook ghosts and the isangelous carapace of marauding instincts forever brave and encaged
Erratic by delivery but sciamachy knows no identifiable age
Scrawny fossarians dig entrenched charnels voraginous with skeletons of brackish regelation enthused by immemorial decay
Must we abridge a hearty ocean in a month’s sublime regaled design of trespasses of unsung heyday spaying its weakest defrocked knight
Armed to the Teeth we seek the terminus of apocalyptic capsules destined for gluttons braving annihilation in the vacuum of orbital planes plain only to the ken of the keenest sight
No we make no petitions in prayer for this Soft Parade of vigor verging on flair
We ransack littoral virtues in nexility bronzed with Stayin’ Alive shoes in remission of staircase blight
Beamish in beatitudes of milquetoast pregnancies of salted Matzah brimming in the yeasts of cesspool emergent from scarecrow metaphors flagrant hauteur gliding on air
Witness the spearhead of revolution in the metagnomy of oracular aubades to future brimstone caverns
Lurking like counterstrokes in revision blackguarded by the feisty prowl of outpaced labtebricole whipsaws of timber readied into foisted brown-brick comestion of elegant emerald errors
Dancing with galactic improvidence concealed by the rigor of lurched liars enthroned with prerogatives of stain-glass adumbration
We parcel up parsecs because clairvoyance among titans is a swank in need of 20/08 visions spectral in the clouds of all prominent registries of memory
Lost to faint delicacies of swift serpents outlasting gnats in the tabernacles of ribald ecbolic promontories on the verge of futile tomorrow pastimes spinsters flummox with slimmerback rigmarole flanged by whinks and escorted by the maskirovka of positive bears in absolute value alone
Yet Enola Gay found its destruction profitable to hominist lore enough to attenuate its evaporation of suffrage in the glint of pervasive remedies to stranded gore
Embanked on the sidelines of conquistador flaunts that a Titanic missive of classy regard found the damsel at the steerage slipping on zalkengur irony the anticlimax of lore
Traipsing fellowship of many a ring is a phony artifice for an ostentation that bellows so loudly when isolated perjury must not whimper but sing
The loudest plaudits afforded to a parallax incumbent white horse in the shadow of Dark Horse occultism a barbed flying wing of the West becoming the king of behest
Scurrilous are many jeers because their similes are baseline just as much as the storged conglomerate behind ensnared rapture looming with less ecstasy and blunt fear remains the kilmarge of simple foresight wrinkled behind the sum of many tears
We await our Creator’s Throne insuperable even with the blandishment of piecemeal craters that are superlative bolides of the weirdest attenuated into the spectrum of eldritch weird
Yet the riches of hobohemia found in “invisible lockets” worn by the travesty of jerseys measuring up to Roadhouse beer
The cartels of citadel cascades built on mountebank fortunes reaped from venal psephology collectively embody the unconscious gamut of javelin cloaks of sardonic sneer
Threnodies written long ago in the Hidden Tracks of sophistry welcome the intermissions of antiquity abridging the donnybrooks of charlatans bossed around by facetious gibes of manicured belletrist humid enough that evaporation itself of rarefied tabacosis has few if any peers
Yet the peerless sketch thrombosis in the oxygeusia of deceptive schadenfreude only to topple jengadangles that glabrous gravity muscles to barely if it all steer
In a vacant reality eager for surrealist bounty the sidereal question of moribund placards supplanted by vibrant living semaphores fixates upon figments of acatalepsy rather than ruddy enumerations of partition despite beloved chalky rudiments filibustering with courtesy rather than jeer
Amicable are ravenous betrayals for chieftains cloffined by warm sapwood integral to equated tantamount mountains festooning firmaments in quaffed delights rigid and keen
The most welcomed blasphemy fragrant with jejune originality celluloid enamors splenetic with sprees of perishable profanity lurking ever more obscene
Regaled in the modest jostle is the forsifamiliation of heterodyne dins of honest applause from the blackguarded periphery among which there are no visible beacons no visible stars
Scarred by diacope enumerated in prescient revelry the trollops of tune and attunement magnetize a riveting weld of seamless geometry that is permeable to ineffable lychgates both porous with prowess and ajar against a golfer’s remediable par
Wizened ghosts flirt with tucked bushes in the forlorn deserts jolted by oasis and flagrant with confection torn asunder by wide-eyed gallantry skipping stones on ataraxia from a distraught afar
That lake of goldmines is scattershot with limey limelight squandered on profligate wrikponds of propinquity but not prolixity in scores and bounties of exoticism in glaikery’s fugitive charm
In proximity there is usucaption but the usufruct of sustainable obelisks to liberty must have the forbearance to bear many witnessed eyes to the Right to Bear Arms
Skirmishes of benighted fracking obsolescence ragged with vitriol and poison-ivy nostalgia flaunt the bromides of algedonic flash over consequences that many disregard
Spiraling with vertiginous pain the scowl of obligation is both seamstress of emblazoned effronteries and the proper reflection of seasoned but not seasonable garb
This barbed quandary riddled with rapacious tendency mixed with myopic bonhomie devours a rickety cacophony of diminutive scopes of ******’s glare to prove each atomic indivisible atrocity a carbonated fulmination heavily barbed
This is all why the killjoys monopolize their gangster vices behind tinted windows and chockablock morality are uxorious bridewells for the bridgewater of garbology sketched by vanity in the outrecuidance of gallionic chasms of an absolute value of firebrand regard
No difference does it make if the recoil is whimpered by hordes of sheep in pretenses of authenticity or whether decapitated delopes emerge from visagist dacoitage snuffed like flavors orbiting self-injury by clockwork towers apace to outlast tertiary bribes for secondary bards
The atocia of freckles in recognition of frail pinnacles summited by daily alpine dilettantist dualisms of polarity are a gullywasher to cleanse and launder indelible regrets carved by aboriginal pottery to memorialize primordial penury
As the slick oleaginous tilts of wicked smart Northeasters swarm the hindsight of Southern Weather afflicted by tempests beleaguered first on recapitulations of Calvary and then deposited evidence upon bourgeoisie
Fumes of the modest flambeaus torching sunken apostasies of hungry spasms of the wind meeting the brusque celerity of the ribald waves rarely etch sublime hint in etch-a-sketch lapses of untimely mobility
Instead that perspicacity of conservatory silence bludgeons Lisbon in the fright before the fall of so many a Phoenix in a foreign land can bear the assaults of the heaved seas
Lambent upon a craggy regularity extinguished by sentinels of the tattered womb for a grimace of prestige by primipara seduction we find no justice of known and knowable terminal disease
Figurative in spoken wisps that predate evaporated concepts of precipitous time the triumph of exalted adoration belongs to hubris but vacant of the prideful decline of crime
To each outspoken verve witnessed on sublunary turf the absolution is nearer to fertility than the craggy soil is to dirt as blemished prowess is a furlough to the sensitive pink tucked manifold beneath each authentic skirt
Liberated by ophelimity but flexed by vicarious pomp in serenade only of hauteur for the hottest we slice and dice a cavern of temptations regardless of enumerated patterns of clearly lopsided dice
We think we live and die but You Only Live Twice in ******* to the oriental bolides of meteoric meteorology preeminent in governing plantations of rice
In jubilant proclamation, I graft from venereal skin a renewed girth of purpose that all enchanted fantasia is a birthright of pleasure more than a vapid drawl of purpose
Glitter bores the scintillation of a denuded naked glory of gore because intimacy is antecedent and consequent to immovable revolutionary procreation of service
To conclude this homily the apothecary in persiflage renounces the role of kilns in both poverty and pottery because his shaken dreams are yelps of a disgusted ornery camaraderie
Listless by oracular dreams of titanic parvenus immune to the sway of tentative croons of Suburban Muse because the grisly subversion of vetust honor that honors not verdict but version of ghastly spools of flimsy epitaphs and not the paragon surgeon is the downfall of a diatribe of petty men
Littering their taradiddles on owleries in overclocked jaundice drowning for purpose among hatcheries of the privvy roosters that own the consequence of audacious pens
Dodgy in interrogation, flummoxed with deracination, isolated by time for time’s recapitulation of surrender in katzenjammer vibes it is time for gossamer servant surfers to borrow nine and hang ten
But the noose of the wednongue nun specializes in puritanical Model Ts for DeLoreans trendsetting years ago because listless lethargy benights the glory that cineastes already won
Teeming on the brink of tomorrow is the progeny of hopeless yesteryear engraved on the iconoclasm of the weak after the next debacle because the Earth after Christ has already borne a Ton
Liturgies revised to reflect corsair trigonometry aimed forever at zephyrs of plight bathe in July 3rd infamy doctored by Generators and Generations before and beyond Walter White menacing the saber with imperious might
Flowered in the nuisance of death is the womb of the arena participant to infinite relapses of contention gladiatorial only when the shunamitism of shanachies sheds serpentine grit for the blench of ligonies of redoubled sight
Towering from the knave inferno of a tramontane elusive cordial imitation of captive citizens of attentive sites the illusion is the vanguard of centuries guarded gingerly by Canada Dry sprites
Rollicking in vehement magpiety attuned to machismo if marginally the sultry philander of naked ruse medicates the charmed Apache Indian on his brief encounters with limousine cruise
Stark in sunken destination glimpsing coal-fire recursive ironies the cloned subversion is a golden calf so effete because it never moos about instinctual muse relegated by twin terrors riddled with sparkplug truce
Limited by scopes enlarged by scales mired in funereal pyres to rigmarole sensationalism worthy of nativist coercion and pivoted lyres the riddle of terminus remains an acquiescent scoff, cough and quaff that never expires
It reaches planetary dread of vast distances regaled against gambits of the spread so the richest sourdough appeases the riper vipers of the nested bed
Recalcitrant with frugal uxorious creed the leader of esquivalience is the headless horseman of innumerable tractions but no mouth to feed
He digests the gallop of the gallant interregnum specious in caitiff ploys and the recessive allele of commiserations against the piety of apolaustic joy because rambunctious speed always attracts a resignation professed from the tailspin of a crass voyage of ludic greed
Tricksters boast of passionate lubrications of finessed bread recocted from useless toasts glowering with insipid pallor as heat and humidity reckon billows of hype congregated more in cisterns of apostasy for remark than a marksman headshot of a Head Hunter wed tightly to a pregnable visions of proactive Ghost
Recidivism and time have a vendetta against verdant drolleries coated by waxen plenilune accordions rampant with polyacoustic rhymes
The tridents of mercurial weather bent on the ineffable vacillations of whether are the brazen opponent of Sterling fatherhood of life’s only father the clockwork animation of a living patronage of eternal existence cobbled from immutable time
To the glory of the Father the sun shades its whimpers and the moon alights as the frontispiece of nocturnal revisions to the New York Times but the hues of rocketed ingenuity coax the ingratiated few to the laureates of genius reckoned with both designation and superlative artifacts of pristine design
Haunted by Green-Light Politics for Greener-Eyed Ladies masquerading in star-crossed tomes of existential dread of lollygagged playful mischief tucked in the coach as he leads his team with sophrosyne feel-good invictive treacle we witness the fumiducts of fortune blitzing Hail Mary contrition with earnest specialty in defense of offensive precision
Games won by the squirrel are outnumbered by the stars in the heavens flagrantly devoid of specialized electricity enough to encapsulate the ommateum of collectivized insights found only in the most evolved sequence of cell division
Incarcerated by the scrappy schlep of bad beats and bronzed chariots roiled by the momentum of angular spears we seek oracular transcendence that cements decades into the span of days that portend the deliverance of future years from past and present fears
Presiding as proctor in the redacted exoneration of crash-course pilots glowering with the effluvium of recensed perdition the heyday of one becomes the mayday of anarchy tested only by the alacrity of the summation of its beloved yet maligned cheers
Against a prosperity hard-won by earnest husbandry commandeered by gammerstang notoriety spawning the recrimination of star power into centupled peers negligent of zero-sum opinionation wagered by Country Club fraternities embedded in the taxonomy of wilted hackumber for hegiras minimized by outcry but cemented by Dear Johns’ twinged with sultry pleonexia in taxed tears
So with the whipsaw of the individual between the collective funnel and the idiosyncratic insubordination that amplifies outcry galvanized throes of insemination built on cross-pollination is melliferous to a pretense of alchemy outstretched to sidereal wonder
Hardest to guess is intimacy clothed in Platonic virtues crumbling because puritanical pilgrimage is appraised as a joyous thunder for a abnegation from all potential blunders
To wager such a life is a depredation of the abundance that John breathes as a ceremonial birthright cast aside by latent regrets stampeding the realm of nosocomial reflections of the pallor of a lurid squander
So we are left to bemuse the decrepit bodewash of realism taken to such a virulent extreme it leaves few artifacts of nostalgia to croon about and ponder and fewer abstractions to yield to manicures of elegant troponder
Diminutive sinews in the intertesselations of heft profess a fidelity of notoriety carving life before and after death
Unsung by the beadledom of the usucaption of exotic tailored musician brutes upon my landlocked assault of chryselephantine usufruct I lampoon nescience as it lurks in murky graveyards of anoegenetic zombies covered in thick pigments of piggish soot
Yet this fuliginous bronteum of warped clarity transfixed by the ulterior wednongues of atrocious spans of provenance jilting providence makes betting interests of rivalry outcomes harder to win earnest roots
The trees of the gamboled skittish resignation of checkered blinks obscuring the curtailed discernment of bedizened slogans of future campaigns yet distasteful in ornery churning the bootstrapped tie their tethered laces to their acquired boots
Barnstorming through afflicted spandrels of abeyance shepherded by notions of public dereliction by imperium of centrobaric centripetal philters of concubine rhymes I surge beneath cordial flonky redhibition because of redshorts in estimable traction cemented by supernal design
Weak in luster my potent pollination for synergistic aplomb evades the fringe of corrugated affections mounted upon quixotic escapades of jockeyed statistics flourishing by reticence rather than frazzling the prolix emulation filibustering the mundane ignorance but garnering the harvest of the plevisable sequence from prime to prime indivisible by liberty alone or complicit with cadence sublime
Finishing the sermons of modern apostasy to a gallant cause my laments outnumber the muzzles belonging to the quorum of begrudged applause in the rawest spectacle of unheralded genius clawing insistently at the heart of electric gravity
The nuances of plausible nuisance bicker in emerald harlots of the tantamount nature of derelict frikmag to calculated prosodemic solidarity around insanity because the vein of the golden ore should see ivoride as nullification and inanity
We all stoop on counterfeit stencils of pretense hearkening a clairvoyant sun to droop for closer inspection but detective remonstrance is outmoded by dreary witless defections
Thus the drawl scrawled by the genius flonky in gadzookerie but gilded in rhapsodies of ineffable cadence fighting orthodoxy to a relegated draw sketches the outline of the special talents of lying claws
Because stipulated in the vast oversight that predicates reprisals of retches glazing in obtuse effronteries with eccedentesiast odontoloxia we witness the corrosion of race and gender into pontificating audits of nomadic treason in a fortress militarized by niche applause
Trickling from repcrevel faucets implicit degradation is a casual casualty of an abbreviated motive gestured in ponderous stupidity to distract abiding legislation into the giggled gaggle of tinsellated glitter
Fatuous by vacuums of gaudy prizes worthy only of token motions rather than locomotive strains of virulent and compassionate respect lapsed on vigors of vehement regret is a sing-song ridicule of a still-framed pillory erected as the obstacle that gouges the riddles of impediment and deprives the luxury of preferential emolument siphoned off to lurid jeers of mockery propaganda sizzling in the cauldrons of tilted marginalization
So we witness the faded declension of the hubris of fair-weather camaraderie as a flux dispersal of invidious buoyant bloviated streaks of temporal grit into inverted revelry never shared by the proper ubiquity of streams of personal recompense for plodding fragments of invasion
If I veer away from bickering cackles of denounced preeminence swiveled to face the shadows upon the great cavern of insuperable bounds of fickle human ignorance I deplore the vaunted toadies that shrink my shadow and diminish my viable conceptual and vibrant footprints
Few extinct creatures know the annihilation of petty fame quaffed on Whiskey Bars I never met because the insipid banal pleonasms of restructured irony grimace at my complexion as the scent of the game alerts the foibles of a champion begotten once before as a shark-tank prince
Livid is my grief in the aborning moral quandary of sunken priority overlapping with piebald skeumorphs of retches of blinkered allegiance faltering prior to the primary day of my true awakening because the completion of nesiote subterfuge  rusts on creaky hinges of noncommittal regressions of pointed but pointless deluge
I spar with the augury of irrelevance with a five-pointed star bequeathing rigid but plentiful provision to assist with more than a petty dime of tithe to a 20/20 flash of perfect prescience and hallowed vision
The eve of all destruction is the lollygag of subordinate squawks redacting convenient priorities on the slowpoke walks through teenage immaturity found in the infamous “talk” that the world is governed by evasion in supremacy rather than by the bywords of the perennial stocks in sublime stalks
This nation perishes with my visionary clarity because the bifocal constraints of delimited defenestration remands my custody beneath ****** upheaval documented by useless historians of deliberation in gaffe and ammunition for agitprop flickering away the aubades of praise for the stilted pretense of sclerotic values inflexible to authorship thus scuttled by crowdsourced dictatorship
How sad a spate that the welters of sciamachy hide behind the glaring shadow of immeasurable genius for an unwarranted earwig to steal the echoes of my thunder and poison the servitude of the minions to companionship to highlight aggrieved infamy over walloping feats of refrain found in an isolated rather than protracted celebrity
The guilt of the reproachable beams through the frikmag of tyrannical bouts of circular wernaggle as I carve spherical reckoning that outstretches in all viable directions so that “The Mailman” and the Male Man both succeed in historic insurrection
Flashy benumbed brutish ferules of ferocious dainty dances with an arbitrary cage highlighted among a voiceless heyday for an auditorium which perceives insanity more dangerous than inanity is a profane stipulation by wrinkled mediagenic hubris which scours planetary limitations for excuse to recourse and recourse to excuse
We find marvels in subtlety finicky on the apothegms of heterochrony divergent even further from syndication as the regimented nuances of abuse become plucky daredevils that cozen robust vital sapwood from anglers seizing by seizure the roundabout logic of the innumerable minority characterized forever obtuse
I writhe in delicate contortions of flexed directional bypass surmounting orthodromic velocities capering with the anenometers that spar against spangled enthusiasm only to become an anointed slave of the flagging moral resolve fulminating a huffed crusade with silentiums of false asylum for true achievement brusque against any resourceful tempest scurrying the hidebound illusion of pandemonium for scrappy shenanigans of vergers and emptied pews griping with the dearth of the day-to-day despite the known tomorrow
We cannot affix primary focus upon constellated wasms of puckered abstention borrowed from a maskirovka of secret hedonism wed to many vices among wives but deprived of sacrosanct remuneration for abiding expenses yet an atoll upon a continent decisive in its aborning revolution
Ribald wiseacres of a jovial dismay flanged on rectiserial exaggerations of sebastomania is a stranded frigate of a fugitive escapism wandering with nomadic insistence against cosseted blackguard of assertion without plenipotentiary verdicts against the suborned crater of overstated flimsy truculence in sardonic dissolution
In trespass of a reservation of recoiled tender of tutelage proctoring unseemly haggardly refuse to creak into noisome and noisy cacophony armed by centurions of merciless scorn that lackadaisical winter belies the meteoric riches of autumn mainour fungible with the retches of remorseful decay dangling retreat above entreaty for exasperated wednongues lacking curiosity or the backbite of counterfeit engastrimyths seeding an unknowing complicity to fallacy forked over by chiefs and chefs to an amounted dubiety reserves the armaments of glib sedition for inopportune blacklists by a whitewashed Listerine amenable to launder travestime into oversight rather than belabor banal graft upon the agelasts of a toilsome operose labor to trivialize Herculean monuments to creativity as backwater residence of restive plucky percurrent revivals of infamy as a primary thorn rather than a secondary abreaction
Sentinels swift to the expedited squalor intrepid in sclerotic simpers of renowned defalcation bludgeoned by the tridents of harmonized trauma healing the brayed complaint while regaining the quixotic statute of plevisable mobility belongs to the froward counterpunch to the flippant underminnow of savagery yet among noble personage a blip on furloughs rather than a singed diacope perishing in Wasting Light for denuded darkness to supplant the vacated stage of ironic upbringing bartered from a treasury of obsolete wasms of trivial shadows in the amounted lineage of time.
Elected by the purblind fudged cadge of intransigent solidarity behind unhinged proclamations of lewd lunacy the reset of wibble-wabble and conflagrations of trenchant visibility will cloud the cloudiest tempest with hurricane-force devastation by the healing stripes of the piebald idiosyncrasy of gerrymandered defamation failing where insular regeneration outlasts hamartia and blinkered foibles of girouettism to pillory the excess but not transmogrify the whittled progress of seminal generativity unbounded by harped lyres of discord for secret concords of select femicide
With outstretched hands I point to the tapestry of the Heavens as eternal folksy witness that to endear the temperance of time bullishly roaring on the laureates of prolific servitude to the malleable substance of capered argument the enigmatic punctuation outweighs the baragnosis of miscreant opportune glares at personal prospect for aggrieved sockdolagers of redstrall over the filigrees of innate geometry to cackle above the shouted gnash and the dissoluble squirms of blackened cremation of living memories into insipid fracking of sapwood caitiffs flowing on the motion of discredit rather than honor in valuable endeavor for future genuflection
Totems value me as much as they stalk grazed hinderbaggle of cosmetic devolution of ragged popcorn theatrics in the desuetude of normative ethics beneath the carcass of rotten dastardly cowardice brandishing an ulterior discretion beneath the level of the lowest stoop of any breed founded on loyalty verging into flagrant snipers of integrity for the integral unshakable paragon of broad illumination the guidepost for many spectral truths overshadowed by one miserly fool flummoxing with albatross without the overhang  of pluvious integrity shepherding his hauteur in zig-zagged wallops rather than buoyant serenades
Thus entrenched in juicy poignant barricades against virulent spawn of the katzenjammers of squawking femicide I spout the blossom, bequeath the gift, renounce the delusion and form a formidable bastion against depredated valleys blemished from sight by intolerable patches of darkened verdure hiding from commonwealth perception the pearl of ecumenical salvation swimming in the naked tongues of honest profession dancing with conventional demarcated demerits of Rimbaud ramshackle deracination as a humdrum belittled squander of a prop of craven filibuster rather than beavers outsmarting the delignated destruction of habitat because of outright distaste for plucky individuation above the squalor of relativism in minor octaves of gnashed betrayal rigged by hamsters rather than owned by the men trigger-happy with rat race motivation only to the servitude of degrees rather than plausible recovery embedded into the fabric of fickle society
Hidebound tomes fishing for destruction but grappling with the enormity of the plagued pitfall of ceramic skirmish with brittle conscience emerge with epincion rather than sulk in brooded hyperbole of convenient drapes of flocks postulating irrelevance clearly in the light of the truest day frolicking with gigantic swaddles of curated support etching masterpieces of traipse into the frescades of future calenture beyond the petty misestimation of hemitery politics
Thus the weapon serves two masters of row rather than regatta and the besieged rankles the testy predicament to a teased poetry riveted by years of rhapsody rather than moments of tomfoolery emergent victorious rather than dilapidated by what-could-have-been chary brinkmanship on the precipice of modern sacrilege
To instruct the herds of men to hoard and the wisdom of the wise to circulate that apothegm of reclamation owns superlative traction fundamental to whimsical festivity even forsaken on a churlish masquerade outmantled by frenetic activity famigerated by the true Richter Scale of public fanfaronade because justice is truth and only in germane truth beyond germ scares will decrepit scarecrows demolish their Fear Factor even when the gullible squirm for nexility on bounded continents rather than novantique frontiers
Conscription demarches for assembly beyond relegation and celebrity above frays of discordant rumination feasting advenient rather than cherishing internal and integral the virtuoso wrabble of residue generations churning wheels of acceleration rather than quibbling extinguished vitality as principal complaint exercised in negligent abodes of facetious barnacles to outlandish freckles in the majestic pulchritude of a Titanic salvation beyond and considering the curglaff of sunken resources pitted to my registry by slot-machine audiences incognizant of brittle whittled henpecks of adoring truth and perdurable verve
We sink and die by destructive tongues but abide and live by righteous exemplary prowess capable of scraping the towering canvass of the firmament and the retches of the deepest sea inhabited by any curiosity worthy of emolument
So in token liturgy I decry sidelong cursory squandered affronts that drive the Jehus madcap with fractious celerities of formal destitution rampant on flonky menace rather than modern hypertrophy
In The End, we see triumph in every nuance and bristling concord with every perspiration of ennobled effort truckling into serrated selachostomous and fractious bromides of wrecking-ball fashionistas fumigating cultural pederasty with subtle bailiwick but ragged travesties of taxidermy celluloid
Marvel in-between the serenade and grandstand and cull the turnverein of triumph from banished evasive rundles of the outlasted calculus to neuter the estranged and to estrange the atocia of vibrant surreal vibes no stranger to an alien hand in a desolate world.
SP Blackwell Nov 2013
He
They say I have no shame
but when I am with him
I am ashamed,
He has only to speak one word
to bring me tears.
He has only to give me one glance
to see all my fears.
He quickly sees through my facade
and all the make-up I have on.
He looks deeply into my eyes.
He prys inside my mind.
He quietly creeps through the
complicated corridors of my head.
I am a piece of art painted by dim light.
In the darkness, I am a thing of beauty.
In the light, I am pale and I have poison
running through my veins.
Yet you crave my blood and lust after
me like a dog in search of his favorite bone.
"Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth,"
I am your lie that makes you see your own horror.
You see me reflected in you.
Or do you see yourself reflected in me?
You were the sculptor.
I was merely a piece.
A piece that became reality.
You blindly saw perfection and
denied all of my flaws.
If i was painted in darkness,
what would make you think the light would hit me now?
It's funny how things work out.
It scares you that when you when you see me you see yourself.
That's why you say I love you.
In reality you want to scream I hate you and run away.
Not because it's me but because it is you you hate.
No other betrayal was ever as horrible
as what I see now in you.
You believed I was more than everything.
I was created with the picture of perfection.
I am human, I do have defections.
Here stands the person that you have created.
Excuse me sir.
I never asked to be painted.

Quote by Pablo Picasso
palladia Jun 2013
floss through my hair
banjaxing, rucking my skin
wipe the sweat off my forehead
and let me collapse into you
till i’m folded all in one

you want out
of this machine too
you do

please orchestrate
mutter my low grade
i want to slenderize into you
i want my dripping locks subdued
enough to make me pray
“whisper my name”

you want out
of this machine too
you do

cut into my flesh
and remove my defections
adapt my skin to the crown
agent to my tongue
slipping in and out
of my mouth
flesh-spoken
Hannah Payne Dec 2016
Beneath the mask quivers and shivers weak and fragile flesh
Frigid and frozen with chills of fear.
I am crippling in-security secured, where they countlessly hide and whisper at the endings of each breath
Riddles veiled with gleams of chemicals disposed and recomposed between night and day,
Until the light hits it and the wind gusts it and incessant defections rise from the deepest depths of my horrific broken authenticity.
And they are all staring at me.
But this time not into the toxicity of my rusty razor eyes.

Beneath the mask is where my falling tears secrete
Pouring vacancy as a smile that feels more like a cracking cut that screams, "I do not belong here" , forms and quietly disarrays.
Buried, piercing eternal reminders that what is shrouded is and never will be clean.
Dig far enough and you'll unravel my roaring encrypted codes.
I want to feel the inner me. I want to let go. So please let me go.
I'm sick, surveying perplexed eyebrows and transient smug slugs that pass through me like a hundred and five venomous knives.

Beneath the mask rests squashed hope branded in the never seen.
Examine the clothed truth that's mounting me into a false entity
If only this was an illusion derived from my bitter history.
But the lights begin to flicker as endless passing heads and lifeless expressions come and go. Stop requested.
The laughing fluorescence continues.

Beneath the mask, recycled empty, plasticity.
Carried with titanium, Styrofoam delirium, impalpable veined elasticity.
And if you come close enough you may just see,
From the scabs and scrapes of doom that are bombarded by and masqueraded with false decadence.
Clipping the wings of individuation,
Don't label me innocent.

Beneath the mask are humorous symbols, layered with obscurity and decay residue.
Of shattered dreams and scattered stars drenched in solitude.
Guide me to the darkness so I can feel blended in, meaning comfortable in my own crumbling skin, and once again soak into my unsuccessful fantasies.
Cause I am stifled from a thousand suffocating bandages weighing me down,
I am the under-works of the ground, sleeping in the soil.
Like meds morphed into led, showered with alcohol.

Beneath the mask it is hard for me to breathe
It is hard for me to belong and it's hard for me to believe
Seek and create your deciphers and you will find deception draped in reverie.
But I've been inflicted with a mistaken realism.
Destined for something that will seemingly never ever be.

I am captivated behind nauseating smirks and painful smiles
So today please let me astray so I can remove this mask for just a little while?
I wrote this a few years back.
Gods1son Sep 2018
I once had a flash of inspiration
To birth a new invention
Did a lot of investigation
Gathered a lot of information
Saw positive indications
Boosted my motivation
There was a team formation
People of same dedication
We had brainstorming sessions
Listed all the specifications
Began the implementation
Encountered a few obstructions
Made necessary modifications
Noticed a couple defections
Applied the proper corrections
And we had a successful completion!
This write-up is the actual invention loool
Tom McCone Dec 2012
been this old nearly half a year now, with that dull dragging urge;
you know best of all, it's just life and pointed time,
slow leakings of admissions of weaknesses,
the inevitable hollow rust that forms
on the underside of ribcages,
digging dripping sugary claws into internal organs as
convictions came and left,
patching up like cold drizzle into heavy rain,
finally, leaving me running on empty for this past era.
arrive, arrive, arrive, leave:
is this all we are, anymore?

they say things about the world, today especially;
you're supposed to have opinions on these kind of things,
but, far too indifferent to care now,
having survived so many tragedic spurns already,
ruin, like second watch-hands,
flows like the escape of tepid sinkwater
and

I'm still dreaming,
I'm still all absences, tearing holes in the wallpaper
where, once, we leant and watched smoke rise from
the stark and blind holes in the floor,
dissolving into remnants of conversations ill-spent,
the same and continual pitch clutter of such verdant loss.

I'm still losing,
though.
I'm still learning lessons from the age twenty through -one,
where once dark forests grew, pine needles drying,
habitual corrections, subsequent defections
back into those same straight lines,
and

I'm still wasting time, blood and the will to not give in.
I'm still dying.
Saul Ramiez Jul 2012
Leading the wind in the wrong direction
I'm doing everything wrong
It'd flawless
    More flawless
      If only perfection
        Was all and
      Defections
    Were gone
And the wind will ****
It will torture my lead
   It will **** everything
     Opposite of our greed
  And as so carved in stone
As created to plead
     As created to master
     my soul just to breed
       more bad thoughts
          in my
         head
O' please just go instead
   I don't deserve you;
Perfection ain't dead.
Cassis Myrtille Feb 2014
truthfully
to say
society *****.
imperfect individuals harping on the fact
that their kids grow up and mature
to the idea of perfection
and these kids
become the perfect type of imperfect individuals
each generation to sing the same type of
the perfection song.
sing to the tune, say that nobody is perfect
and they try to be perfect.
and when they reach near perfection,
when they are probably miles and miles away from it,
they preach to the song of perfection
amplify the defections of a crowd
and chaos erupts
it all becomes war and love combined
hence
society *****.
Kaos Strategy Aug 2014
Foundation painted in lies
Existence collapsing without energy
And so time flows by
A landslide in a blink of an eye
I want to avoid any neutral paths
A shining stage
I want to bathe in that place's light
Is that too much to wish?

At the far away shining blue light
Stacking fatigue, Overtaking nervouness
It never disappears
The darkness of sadness
It seems like i'm living with no disabilities
But i was
Hiding them

The engine broke
From knowing too much of this reality
I'm dried of everything except the future
I possible couldn't know about you who are lively
When numerous sadness sweeps in
I held them in white staring at the muddy water that was closing off the path
At that time there was no light

I was nervous after looking at you
Who had bright eyes and spoke of hope
Even though I'm not strong, I wanted what not possible
And lived in vain as the cost of it

Still, this cold mind overflowed
Due to lack of rejections and consent
My poor brain uselessly tried to find the lost time
Black rain, hope that was hidden in the avalanche

The curtain of red blood, not blue, surrounds it
I'm not the one who is crazy, it feels like I can't breathe
Because you who was running towards the light was so bright
I couldn't catch up so easily

The whirwind of the hideous jealousy overlaps with my emotion
I didn't know the truth so I lost without defections the game monster
The only one that can calm this depressed mind is me
I was tired from wandering around so i came to this place
The limit has already broken trough
And is flooding out from my capacity
The identity of the pain that overcame me

The rain of despair ripped apart the silence
I only have to make it throw away the sinister mind
When numerous sadness is sweeping in
If I keep on slowly walking instead of being sweapt away,
I bet the long, long night will one day
Be a little brighter
Big Virge Aug 2019
"Work Politricks" ... A Poem written by Big Virge 26/7/2005

My Works ... Poli - TRICKING ... !!!!!  

They're Tactics Are SICKENING ... !!!  

They're Using Their ... " Power " ...  
To Make People ... "cower" ... !!!  
  
It's ALL ABOUT This ...  
The Usual ... " OLD Tricks " ...  
  
They're PROMOTING WANKERS .... !!!!!  
And YES The Odd ***** ... !!!  
  
The Way That They Do It ..........  
Is Making Me ... SICK ... !!!!  
  
They TRY To Be Smooth ...  
When Making Their Moves ...  
  
They TRY To Make THINKERS ...  
Start Wearing ... "Horse Blinkers" ... !?!  
  
So That They .................................................................­................ "don't see" ..............  
Through Their Work FALLACIES ... !!!  
  
Come ON People PLEASE ... !!!!  
  
Somebody ... AGREE ... !?!  
cos' These Days I'm Thinking ...  
It Can't Just Be ... ME ... ?!?  
  
Maybe It IS ... !?!  
  
Am I ........................... "PARANOID" ............................ ?!!!?  
  
Or Is It That ... " I'm " ...  
Surrounded By BOYS ... ???  
  
BOYS Who ......................................... Avoid ..............  
COMBATTING Their ... " Ploys " ...  
  
And GIRLS Who REALLY ...  
THINK They're SMART ... ?!?  
  
WHY ... ?  
Because They LIKE To LICK *** ... !!!  

From Colleagues To BOSSES ...  
Their Plans Are A FARCE ... !!!  
  
THIS Is THE PROBLEM ...  
Their Card Has Been MARKED ...  
  
They're MOVING ON UP ...  
By Acting Like ... " TARTS " ...  
  
This Is Why I ...  
Now NEED TO ..................................................... Depart .................. !!!!!  
  
Cos' Working With ******* ...  
And STUPID UPSTARTS ...  
Is Making Me FEEL ...  
Like It's Time To IMPART ...  
  
Some PROOF of My Power ...  
And ... TEAR UP Some *** ... !!!!!  
  
By Showing These People ...  
What Lies DEEP WITHIN ...............  
  
A Person Whose Cool ...  
Is BURSTING To SIN ... !!!  
  
They NEED To Be CAREFUL ... !!!  
... Or Be A VICTIM ... !!!!!  
  
Cos' ... WHATEVER Happens ...  
When ANGER Begins ...  
  
The Devil WON'T Stop Me ...  
From ... FLIPPING The Script ... !!!!  
  
I Did It Before ...  
But They NEVER Saw ...  
How Many of Them ...  
I'd Knock To THE FLOOR ... !!!!!!!!!!!  
  
This REALLY Is Stuff ...  
I DON'T Want To ... " Perform " ... !!!!!  
  
But What Can I Do ... ?  
  
When This IS Now The ... " Norm " ... ?!?  
  
Most Days When At Work ...  
I'm Calming MY STORM ......................  
  
Just For THESE PEOPLE ...  
Who ... Like To PLAY GAMES ... ?!?  
  
My Boss Took A YEAR ...  
To Get Used To My NAME ... !!?!!  
  
He's From The Old School ...  
of ... REDNECK Type FOOL ... !!!  
  
Who's Now USING Tactics ...  
That He SHOULD'T Use ... !!!!!  
  
Like USING My Colleague ...  
Cos' She's A ... Young FOOL ... !!!  
  
Who CLEARLY Is STUPID ...  
And NEEDS Some More School ... !!!  
  
SCHOOLING ... On Life ...  
And Doing Things RIGHT ...  
  
Like ... SHUTTING Her Mouth ...  
When Management Types ...  
Are TRYING IT On ...  
And SINGING ... " Old Songs " ...  
  
When They KNOW What They're Doing ...  
Is ... TOTALLY Wrong ... !!!!!  
  
Like DENYING ... " rises " ...  
Because of ... SURPRISES ... !!!  
  
Like People NOT BUYING ...  
Because of ... HIGH PRICES ...  
  
Or Bonus DENIAL ...  
  
SEE These Are The Styles ...  
That Should Make A Manager ...  
Have To ... Stand TRIAL ... !!!!!  
  
Their Actions Are VILE ... !!!  
They FILL With NO TILES ... !?!  
  
They Then Have THE CHEEK ...  
To Sit There and SMILE ... ?!?  
  
They DON'T LIKE ... " My Type " ...  
Cos' What I Say ... RILES ...  
WITHOUT Giving Credence ...  
To BLEMISH My File ... ?!!!?  
  
They DON'T LIKE My Demeanour ...  
Cos' I  Am ............ Laid Back ...................................  
  
But This Is Because ...  
My Work DOESN'T Lack ...  
  
A COMPLETE Inspection ... !!!  
For FAULTS And Defections ...  
I'm ALWAYS Prepared ... !!!!!!  
I Use GOOD PROTECTION ... !!!!!!  
  
Cos' Colleagues These Days ...  
Are FULL OF Deceptions ....  
And MANY Are SPREADING ...  
Some ... HORRID INFECTIONS ... !!!!!!!  
  
It Seems That ... " Their PLAN " ...  
Is To Understand WHY ... ?!?  
  
My Work Is Done SWIFTLY ...  
And I .... " COOL The Fan " .... !!!!!!  
  
The Answer Is Simple ...  
YES ... I AM THE MAN ... !!!!!!!!!  
  
Who DOESN'T Get ... "Caught ......................................................  
In Their Conversations .........  
  
They Are FULL OF ***** ..... !!!  
And ***** ... LOVE A ***** ... !!!!!  
  
These People FOR REAL ...  
Are CLEARLY Quite SICK ... !!!  
Cos People Like THESE ...  
  
Create ...  
  
.... " Work PoliTRICKS " ....
Angry I was.

However, work was a ***** at this time in my life !

In the end though, I managed to do as the poem suggested, and got the Funk OUT ..... !!!
Chuck Kean Aug 2022
Slaves To The Machines

  Don’t look now but Humans are
Already on the edge of  existence
We’re being replaced and there’s
Really no way for resistance

Self checkout is just the beginning
Drones are making delivery
Cars are driving themselves
Making me feel the shivery

Computers thinking for themselves
Giving humans directions
And we’re doing what we’re told
Despite the electronic defections

Close your eyes and see visions
Of A Terminator landscape
With only two choices of survival
Endless war or searching for escape

We’ve got new viruses truth or lie
Being forced to get the vaccines
And more and more each day we’re
Becoming Slaves To The Machines

Written By:Charles Kean
Copyright © 08/04/2022
All rights reserved

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