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MaryJane Doe May 2014
He's in too deep.
He can't seem to think.
Just how low
do you think he will he sink?
Caught in the undertow
of the current flow.
He treads
Slow
It can make or break what you knew
if you ride the rapids threw.
Will they take Scuba Steve too!?
He wont swim for the shore.
to avoid once more
the beauty in store
Only to find...
That he always wants more.
he learned from the past
but his oxygen can't last
and his air
Is depleting fast
high in the speed
and the passing sea ****
I heard Scuba Steve plead
I'm in too deep
and I can't seem to think
Just how low
Do you think
I will sink?
Sy Lilang May 2014
“Being a farmer is like being a priest;
you take a vow of poverty
and make a pact with the Lord
that no typhoon will come
and destroy your crops.”

In the rise of sedentary human civilization,
The nation’s agriculture
Became the key expansion.

Its history dates back thousands of years,
With its development,
Has been driven and defined –
By different climates, cultures, and technologies.

The Filipino farmers:
Are they now a dying breed?

Numbers of small farms has dwindled,
With workers opting for city life.
But this trend could exacerbate food insecurity!
Yes, in an import-dependent country –
Already struggling to meet current food demand.

In the face of growing losses,
And from volatile weather,
To new-fangled farming tech,
Limited education makes them less receptive.

What took such toll on the agricultural sector?
Maybe the farmer themselves,
The investors, the buyers – maybe.
Now, it’s due to the government policies,
Our programs are good, yet so weak.
There’s excessive reliance on agricultural imports,
And corruption on the upper level.

Compounding the problem
Is a younger generation –
Largely, leaving rural areas nationwide,
And depleting the pool of potential agricultural workers.

They say it’s too late to do something;
But the mind-set of the younger generation
Still we can change
And make farming appealing once again.

(9/8/13 @xirlleelang)
Shawn Devassy Nov 2012
My family is a bunch of animals.
My mother is a lioness,
strong, brave, and full of pride,
with claws sharp as knives,
for anyone that harms her cub she will strike.
my father is a hyena,
foolish, never serious, and a lazy scavenger,
that doesn't do anything but eat the crap that he creates.
My grand parents are elephants,
big and strong during the day,
blind and helpless during the night.
My aunts and uncles are the herd of gazelles,
they graze when they can,
but when the lioness comes they silence and run away with fear.
My dogs are the shade that comforts me from the burning sun of life.
The day has come when the lioness shall not roam the tall grasses of the Serengeti.
Without the lioness the gazelles are persistently grazing,
depleting the grass,
grazing and depleting until there was no grass left for me to hide in,
they rammed and bucked at me like I had no right to grieve.
I was a helpless cub on that day and I still am,
wondering when the lioness will show up to be my heroine again.
But as the gazelles buck and ram,
a kangaroo and a zebra rush in,
embrace me,
and take me in,
I now have a second family with:
a savage tiger,
Italian chipmunks,
boxing kangaroos,
kick-*** monkeys,
elderly turtles,
burly bears,
religious zebras,
and untimely rabbits.
My second family is diverse,
but they never do the worst just as my first.
This is a story that I usually don't tell,
but this my past life so I must tell, tell, tell...
This is what God raised me to be,
This for me and only me.
One day the light will show for me,
and me and the lioness will forever again be free,
to roam the plains in the skies above,
just like a dove.
jake aller Mar 2019
World According to Cosmos Updates March 3, 2019

Note: I am taking a two week trip to Vietnam and will update my blog when I return with my reflections on my trip, updated publications etc.

Cosmic Dreams and Nightmares

I don't dream dreams.  I dream movies complete with action, music, food, smells everything.  In this one I had a vision of  a possible future. it was so vivid, almost as if I were watching the hearing take place.

Three stories

Dream Girl (true story)
General Zod (flash fiction
Sam Adams Vs. the Social Cleansing Board
Six Poems
Morphing Images from Hellish Nightmare
Endless Movie
Worlds within Worlds Lost in Hell
Rafting to Hell
Satanic Torture
Micro Stories

Don’t Go Jogging in the Middle of the Night
Don’t touch this button!
Don’t open the door
Don’t go to the theater tonight stay home with me
Don’t go to Dallas I have a bad feeling about the trip


Dream Girl
Cheating Death 100 Times
Guardian Angel
Medical Mystery
SLA Hit List

Dream Girl – A true Story – reprinted from Dreams and the Unexplainable
You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.

Author Unknown

The dreams started when I was a senior at Berkeley High School in 1974. About a month before I graduated, I fell asleep in a physics class after lunch and had the first dream:

A beautiful Asian woman was standing next to me, talking in a strange language. She was stunning—the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She was in her early twenties, with long black hair, and piercing black eyes. She had the look of royalty. She looked at me and then disappeared, beamed out of my dream like in Star Trek. I fell out of my chair screaming, “Who are you?” She did not answer.

About a month went by, and then I started having the dream repeatedly. Always the same pattern.

Early morning, she would stand next to me talking. I would ask who she was, and she would disappear. She was the most beautiful, alluring woman I had ever seen.

I was struck speechless every time I had the dream.

I had the dream every month during the eight years during which I went to college and served in the Peace Corps. In fact, when I joined the Peace Corps, I had to decide whether to go Korea or Thailand. The night before I had to submit my decision, I had the dream again and it made me sure that she was in Korea waiting for me.

After the Peace Corps, I still hadn’t met my dream woman. I got a job working for the U.S. Army as an instructor and stayed in Korea. I kept having the dream, until I had the very last one:
She was standing next to me, speaking to me in Korean, but I finally understood her. She said, “Don’t worry, we will be together soon.”

Why was that the last time I had the dream? Because the very next night, the girl in my dream got off the bus in front of me. She went on to the base with an acquaintance of mine, a fellow teacher, and they went to see a movie. I saw her and found the courage to speak with her.

We exchanged phone numbers and agreed to meet that weekend.

The next night, she was waiting for me as I entered the Army base to teach a class. She told me she was a college senior and she had something to tell me. I signed her on to the base and left her at the library to study while I taught, and then we went out for coffee after class. She told me she was madly in love with me, and that I was the man for her. I told her not to worry as I felt the same.

That weekend, we met Saturday and Sunday and hung out all day. On Sunday night, I proposed to her. It was only three days after we had met, but for me it felt like we had met eight years ago. I had been waiting all my life for her to walk out of my dreams and into my life, and here she was.

Her mother did not want her to marry a foreigner. One day, about a month after we met, she invited me to meet her parents. I brought a bottle of Jack Daniels for her father and drank the entire bottle with him. He approved of me, but her mother still had reservations. After a Buddhist priest told her my future wife and I were a perfect astrological combination, she agreed, and we planned our wedding.

The wedding was a media sensation in South Korea. My wife explained it to me years later. At the time, I was overwhelmed just by the fact that we were getting married and I didn’t fully understand how unusual this was. My wife was of the old royal clan, distant relatives to the former kings of Korea. In the clan’s history, only two people had ever married foreigners: my wife, and Rhee Syngman, who was the first President of South Korea. My father, who was a former Undersecretary of Labor, came out for the wedding, which fueled even more media interest. Our marriage defied the stereotypical Korean-foreign marriage where the women married some hapless GI just to escape poverty and immigrate to the U.S. We were the first foreign/Korean couple to get married at a Korean Army base. Over 1,000 people came to the wedding, and my father was interviewed on the morning news programs.

This all happened thirty-seven years ago, (45 years since the first dream) and I am still married to the girl in my dreams. Now in my dreams she watches over me when we are apart.

General Zod Conquers the World
SETI and the search for extraterrestrial life goes on overdrive when scientists report what appears to be radio and television broadcasts from a planet eight light years from earth, the same planet as the Vulcans came from in the Star Trek universe.  The programs show a world where dinosaur-like creatures are running the world and there appears to be a civil war.  Over the next six months, the world is transfixed watching the alien broadcasts which are translated in English via a supercomputer program.  In the broadcast, a nuclear war has occurred. The surviving party regains absolute control and announces the formation of the Galactic Empire.  General Zod is the First Emperor.  They have discovered Earth as well. The aliens launch a crash project to develop interstellar travel so they can come to earth and conquer the earth.

The revelations that there is an external threat to the planet causes the United Nations to get together with the help of the United States and Russia another space powers, they put together Space defense International organization and also invigorates efforts to make the UN a real Planetary government including finally conquering climate change.

But it was too late. General Zod’s son arrives to take over the earth. He makes a broadcast saying that they were liberating Earth in the name of the Galactic Empire and that resistance would be futile.

They land at the White House and when President Trump comes out to greet them,

General Zod cuts off his head, and then cuts off the heads of all the staffers as they come out White House. After an hour of unimaginable horrors, including mass rapes, blowing up the Pentagon and the CIA,  General Zod announces that he had taken over the world.

Life will continue as before as long as people behave and follow the rules they would be fine Resistance to the new empire will be met with instant death.  Life in the Empire is not a democracy. They would not tolerate Freedom of speech, and Freedom of Press, and Freedom of Assembly And the freedom to oppose the State. The state is everything.  As long as humans remember that they would be just fine. They took over the United States because it was the biggest country in the world. And that his forces will take over the rest of the world but in the next couple weeks. If people on earth accept the new order, their safety would be guaranteed. Companies would be taken over by Galactic Empire companies, and everybody would have to learn Galactic standard. Within one year older languages will be banned.

Sam Adams Vs. the Social Cleansing Board

the summons
Sam Adams was worried. He could not sleep. He got up at 4 am and wrote in his journal and tried to cope with the dread that was overwhelming him. He had received the summons yesterday that he was to report to the social cleansing board for a review on whether he would allow to continue to be on the automatic permit list or would be referred for final status determination. Sam was a retired Federal worker trying to live on dwindling savings.

Sam had Alzheimer’s and was rapidly depleting his life’s savings. Two years before he had been released from prison, one of millions of ex political prisoners. His crime? Authoring anti-government poems just before the beginning of the Christian States of America, right after the second civil war. Unfortunately for him and his millions of ex-prisoners, his side lost the war. He wanted to flee to the United Provinces and settle down in California but lacked money to move. And getting a job at his age, with Alzheimer’s and his political rating was proving difficult at best.

All of which added up to a 90 percent probability his last days were approaching.

Under the new rules imposed by the Christian republican party in the newly established Christian states, all citizens over the age of 18 were on the permitted list if they met all of the following criteria. He tried to think why he was being referred to the board. Perhaps it was because of the recent crackdown on social deviancy. Millions of homosexuals, transgenered people, atheists, drug users, alcoholics, and non-religious people had been rounded up and eliminated according to the rumors. Perhaps someone had fingered him as a possible deviant. He fit the stereotype, no children, known drug user, known alcohol user, suspect politically, atheist and now Alzheimer’s patient. And he was not racially pure having some black blood, some Asian blood and some Jewish blood. And he had married across the racial divide which was now illegal.

The story was that if you flipped and named names you would sometimes be spared for now, and if your info was correct, you could be rewarded. Of course, those whom you flipped were not too fortunate. That was probably the story or someone could have heard that he was an ex political prisoner, or simply that he had Alzheimer’s’.

He had no children. And he was a secret atheist and had been involved with the dissent movement and had spent five years as a political prisoner at the start of the Christian Revolution. He was determined to make a stand and denounce the whole rotten system before the board although that would probably seal his fate.

As an Alzheimer’s patient he could no longer work. His wife had died the year before while he was in prison after she had been deported to her native Korea. She left him some assets but he had little idea how to manage his finances and he was behind in his rent and had received an eviction notice which had probably triggered the visit by the social cleansing staff who recommend a final status determination. But it was just as likely he was on the list because someone flipped on him.

He also did not make it last time when they came for him at midnight. Always at midnight the story goes.

The soldiers came took him away from his wife and locked him up for two years. They deported his wife whom he heard had died shortly afterwards. He spend two years at hard labor in the dessert near Las Vegas and was released into Las Vegas.

Las Vegas was a different town now that the casinos had left town. All that was left were back office operations, and underground ***** and *** operations and underground casinos. It was a hot bed of political dissent and there was an underground railroad to California, which was not part of the Christian states. Sam had been preparing to leave which was a crime and perhaps that is why he was on the list.

The hearing would be at 10 am. He was meeting his lawyer at the hearing board but his lawyer was not too optimistic.
the Permit Criteria
The basic criteria for being on the permit list were:

For Males

Age 18 to age 70
White race
Married to a white woman with children
Must be either working, in school full time, serving in military duty, or working in prison if convicted of a crime.

Homelessness was not allowed. If unemployed and or homeless, would be referred to social cleansing department unless one had a relative who was willing to take care of your needs.

Since there were no pensions or social security anymore and no government provided health care, one must have sufficient assets through one’s work, or savings or through one’s relatives to provide for one ‘s needs. If not you would be sent to the social cleansing board for final status determination.

For Females

Same basic rules applied but if one were married, and had children one would be on the permitted list, if children are older, if spouse’s income is sufficient one would be on the list.
If single or divorced, and homeless one would also be subject to social cleansing unless one’s relatives would willing to sponsor you. Since there were no pensions or social security anymore and no government provided health care, one must have sufficient assets through one’s work, or savings or through one’s relatives to provide for one ‘s needs. If not you would be sent to the social cleansing board for final status determination.

For Aged People

Additional requirements for the age you were expected to take care of your basic needs through employment and savings and the help of relatives. If you were evicted for non-payment of rent, or judged to not have sufficient assets left to sustain your basic needs including medical care, you would be referred for final status determination.

For all people additional requirements applied.

****** deviancy, drug use, alcohol use, gambling, *** outside of marriage, homosexuality would result in immediate referral to the social cleansing board as all were banned conduct that could result in final termination.   Being a member of a prohibited religious class could also be grounds for referral as would a pattern of not attending Christian services. Finally, if one had been arrested for political crimes one would be marked forever.
<h2>Sam's Rating</h2>
One had a government social rating. Sam knew that his rating was a D meaning that the government would be watching him all the time, and it would be difficult to get a job. Only the A’s and B’s were guaranteed to be on the permit list.

To be a A you had be to a true believer, had to be white, had to attend church on a regular basis, and had to be employed naturally.

To be a B same thing but you could be a B if you were a minority, or had engaged in alcohol or drug use under the old rules.

C meant that there was something wrong with your background, you were an atheist, you were a minority etc.

D mean that you were a serious threat to the regime.

E meant that you would be terminated.

F met you were terminated as it met Failure to survive, and family members of F were also labeled F as they were usually terminated at the same time.

Being associated with banned political movements, including reading banned materials could also lead one to being referred to the social cleansing board as all were grounds for either termination or criminal prosecution if under the age of 70.

The board has three choices - granted temporary status extension, referral for termination, or referral to criminal prosecution.

The termination would be carried out quickly. There would be an optional funeral at your Church, then the execution through the method of your choice - firing squad, beheading, electric chair, or gas. The default was gas where you were put in a room with up to ten other people and put to sleep.

Afterwards your body would be cremated in an electricity generating plant with the ashes turned into fertilizer products. There were no burials allowed unless one was rich enough and connected enough to request a burial exception. Most people did not qualify.
the Hearing
The hearing started. The presiding Judge, Judge Miller was a stern face white man in his 70’s and a true believer. He was sent to Las Vegas to clean it up as Las Vegas was the wild west, a hot bed of dissent, illegal drug use, illegal prostitution and illegal casinos. It was also near several political prisons so many ex cons lived there.

The Judge was the chairman of the Nevada state committee that did not exist and was a senior official in the Federal committee that did not exist that brought together government, business and church leaders to coordinate government policies and that secretly ran the Christian States of America.

Probably a score of A thought Sam.

The judge announced that he had reviewed Sam’s file and was shocked that Sam had escaped final termination. He said that the previous board had erred in simply sending him to prison. He should have been eradicated as a social evil, as a cancer that needs to be removed from the pure body politics. Sam and his ilk sickened him. Sam was a free thinker, an atheist, a mix race mongrel, married to a non-white and was therefore guilty of crimes against the white race which was a crime. The Judge was determined to see justice done.

He asked Sam a series of questions. Sam’s answers sealed his fate.

Sam, what is your occupation?

None for now.

You realize that under the law you must be working, in service, in school or in prison?

I can’t find a job due to my age, my Alzheimer’s; and my political record.

That’s irrelevant. You are just a lousy atheist *******. You deserve no sympathy. And have none from me.

Are you white?

No, I am mixed race, part native, part Asian, part black.

I see you were married to a non-white and had no children. Good for you we would not want to see more mongrel children. Such children should be eliminated at birth in my opinion and will be starting next month when we begin enforcing the racial purity laws.

What was your crime? Let’s see reading prohibited writings, keeping a journal, publishing an anti-government blog, authoring anti-government poems and stories. You served two years at hard labor?

Yes

Do you still write?

Yes, everyday but I no longer publish on line.

Good. No one would want to read that trash anyway.

Do you go to church?

No

Do you believe in God?

No, I do not believe in an imaginary man in the sky.

One more anti-religious statement from you will result in an immediate ruling of termination.

Do you drink?

If I can find it yes

Do you gamble

Yes, when I can

Do you support the Christian Republican Party and the Christian States of America?

No, I do not.

Okay, I have enough for a ruling. Sam Adams, you are hereby sentence to termination. Tomorrow morning at 7 am you will be turned into electricity and fertilizer. Take him away.

Next please.

At midnight there was a knock at the door. A black man appeared and said he was a friend and he was being smuggled to California. Sam rejoiced and went with his new friend and reached SF in the morning, escaping death for the 23rd time in his life.

the End

Poetic Nightmares

Morphing Images from a Hellish Nightmare
Note: From a real nightmare End Note

I am in a room
Drinking at a party
And smoking ****

Watching people all around me

Change into hideous creatures
Monsters from the deepest depths of hell

Everyone in the room
Has been transformed except me

The Chief of them all
Wears a Trumpian mask

Complete with orange hair

Half human half pig

His deputy
Wears the face of Putin
But his body
Half human, half horse: if

The other creatures wear masks
Many of them wear
Green Pepe the alt-right
Symbolic frog masks

And have T-shirts
Bearing alt right slogans
And **** symbols

And as they prance about
They chant alt. Right slogans
And neo-**** chants

Jews will not Replace us

And the rest of these creatures
Are hideous ugly beasts
With only a vestige of humanity left

And these monsters are engaged
In all sorts of foul evil deeds
****** violence death

All around
And non-stop
violent drug-fueled ******

As these creatures
Half human half monsters
Half male, half female creatures

Snort coke, *******, speed
Smoke **** and drink ***** shots
Scotch, bourbon and beer

The Trumpian Pig leads the charge
Starts engaging in ****** with Putin
Who chases after people

Cutting off their heads with his sword
They turn on to their fellow creatures
****** and killing each other
and eating their fellow creatures

All night long

Then they attack me
Screaming

Jews will not replace us
And I wake up
Screaming

As the sun comes up
Just another nightmare


The Endless Movie

Watching the TV coverage
Of the great government shut down
Of 2018-2019

I am reminded of a movie
As I fall asleep
Listening to the TV

Blather on and on
About what it all means

Mr. Natural pops up
And screams

"It don’t mean s….

“Dude, the endless movie
Is about to begin”!

A middle-aged white man
Down on his proverbial luck
Just been fired

Replaced by a foreign worker
Or a robot

Or just fired
Because he was no longer
Deemed useful
To the masters of the universe

If he was lucky
He'd  be given a watch
And an IOU worthless pension

And the man wanders into a restaurant
Pulls out a gun

Eats his breakfast
After the official breakfast hour

Puts on a Pepe the green frog mask
Drops acid, Snorts speed
Drinks a shot of *****
And coffee smokes a joint

Snorts ******* for good measure
and smokes a cigarette

And walks outside
steals a bus at gun point
Filled with passengers

He tells them
They are hostages

And he puts on his vest
With the dead man switch
Next to the bomb

He announces
Via tweet

He is going to take the bus
To the proverbial *** of gold

Hidden deep in a cave
And when he got there

He would release the hostages
And disappear into the mine
And never be found again

And as the bus careens around the mountain
At 100 miles an hour
The dude sprouts out

Conspiracy after conspiracy theory
About Obama the Muslim communist

secret gay working with George Soros
the Jewish money people
in league with the shapeshifting lizards

and Mueller is one of them
they are all after him
because he knows the deal

And the passengers are transfixed
Half hoping, he would make it
Half hoping, he would be blown away

And as the bus careens out of control
With the wheels falling off

And the cliff looming ahead
You realize we are all doomed


Worlds Within Worlds Lost in Inner Space
A man woke up one day
Lost in inner space
Went so far down
The proverbial rabbit hole

That he did not know
Where he was
Nor what time it was
Nor when it was

As he stared out
At a bewildering world
A world lost in inner space
Deep down in his dreams

Filled with nightmarishly real
Monsters, demons and ghostly apparitions
He saw them and began running
Running running running

With the hell hounds behind him
Leading him to the edge
of the pits of hell itself

abandon all hope
ye who enter here
the sign read
above the entrance to the pit

and there was a devil standing there
armed with a clipboard
and a computer spreadsheet
Satan was the ultimate bureaucrat

Name barked the devil
Date of Birth ?
Date of Death?
Don’t know? That won’t do at all
Hmm

Car accident due to drunk driving
And you killed a child
Bad on you

But here in hell
The punishment fits the crime
And the devil laughed
Joined in by the hell hounds
And other nightmare creatures

A bell ran out
In the purple crystalline sky
And slowly the worlds receded
And he found himself alive

In his room
And vowed
That today
Was the day

He would quit drinking
Quit taking drugs
And quit chasing strange woman
And having wild libertine ***

He picked up the phone
It was Satan’s aid
Be careful what you vow
We are listening

If you fulfil your vows
You might find yourself
Escaping life in Hell
It is up to you to choose

And the man got dressed
Went to work
Thinking deep thoughts

And drove off a cliff
And back down the endless
Worlds within worlds

Satanic Torture

I find myself
In a dark room
Strapped to a bed

The light turns on
The large TV comes on

A smiling image
Of Satan fills the TV
He is dressed
In a conservative business suit

Looks like he came
Out of a corporate
board meeting

surrounded by demonic aides
who constantly shove papers
at him

He looks up from his lap top
And smiles
A deadly so insincere smile

His voice booms out

Welcome to Hell
My satanic slaves

I am Satan
Your new master

Each of you
Has been sentenced
To an eternity of torture

And the punishment
Must fit the crime

So, for you
Mr. Jake Cosmos Aller
Failed aspiring poet
And novelist

Your torture
Is to be strapped
To that bed

Unable to move
As you are filled
With the need
To **** and ****

But you cannot move
And your skin
Is crawling with bugs

And itchy
as Hell so to speak
and you are so sleepy

but you cannot sleep

the TV will play
endless repeats

Of some of the worst TV
and movie shows
ever produced

Starting with my favorite
A Series of Unfortunate Events

Featuring your favor annoying little girl
Carmetta! Singing for you forever
As you are the ultimate cake sniffer

Welcome to Hell


Rafting Towards Hell
I woke up
To find myself
Rafting down a river

I looked up
At the cliffs
Towering above
the roaring torrent

and see the dark demons
of my terrible nightmares
chasing the boat
firing flaming arrows

and I see werewolves
goblins, ghosts and monsters
running along the river bed
screaming obscenities

as they chase me
to my doom

and I see the waterfall ahead
and see my pending doom

as I rush over the edge
of reason



Micro Stories
53 word stories regarding unheeded warnings
Don’t Go Jogging in the Middle of the Night
It all started with a jog in the middle of the night. Despite my wife’s warning don’t go jogging in the middle of the night.  Broke me heal in a million pieces, 14 operations ensured, mutant MDR Staff almost killed me, almost lost the leg. . should have listened to her warning.

Don’t touch this button!
Don’t touch this button the former President said.  I said, what this button? And that led to the launching of nuclear weapons, going to defon three, and world war 3 with millions of people dead end of civilization moment. Should not have touched the red button.
Don’t open the door
When you find yourself running for your life chased by demons from hell and backed into a corner in a burning house filled with flames and are about to die in a million horrible ways you remembered that they warned you not to open door number three in this crazy reality TV show.
Don’t go to the theater tonight stay home with me
Mary Todd Lincoln had a vicious headache and was not in the mood to go out.  The President though ignored her wishes and told her that he had to go to the theater that night to show the world everything was okay now the war was ending.  Should have listened to her.
Don’t go to Dallas I have a bad feeling about the trip
Jackie was known for her moods and her premonitions. Something the President found both amusing an annoying. She told him that she a vision of death waiting for him in Dallas that day.  The President dismissed her foolishness as he put it and went to Dallas to meet his fate.
true love story.
In 1974 I had the first dream. While sleeping in a boring class, I saw a beautiful Asian woman standing at me speaking a foreign language. I fell out of chair yelling who are you?   I began having the same dream month after month for eight years.  One day I realized she was in Korea so I went there in the Peace Corps to meet her. In 1982 I had the last dream.  She said don’t worry we meet soon. That night she walked off a bus, out of the dream and into my life.  We’ve been married 37 years.
Cheating Death 22 Times
Also, a true story.
I have cheated death 22 times in my life.  I was born a preemie, almost died at birth, and had all the childhood illness at once.  In 1979 I came down with Typhoid  fever in Korea in the Peace Corps.  In 1991 almost got hit by a train. In 1996-1997 had 14 operations due to a mutant drug resistant staph infection, almost died several times.  In 1997 I had an acute stomach ailment that almost killed me, due to excessive antibiotic usage, if I had waited 30 minutes more would have been dead.  And had dengue in 2010.
Guardian Angel Saves My Life
Another true story
In 1990, I was teaching ESL in Korea.  My wife and I drove to the East Coast of Korea for a weekend away. She was in the US Army then.  As we drove towards Sorak mountain, I was filled with the need to get off the road right then. I had a premonition of doom, so did my wife. We got off to drive around another park returned a few minutes later and saw a 25 car pileup. We would have been dead if we had not listened to that inner voice telling us get off now.

Medical Mystery
Another true story
Back in 1996, when I was in the hospital fighting a mutant staph infection after a disastrous jogging accident that led to 14 operations, the internal medicine doctor said that there was something else going on. He finally discovered that I had a rare parasite, a tape worm of sorts that remained inert, its only becomes active if you take steroids then it blows up like a basketball killing you instantly. Six months later I had to take steroids due to frozen shoulder syndrome, and if I had not gotten rid of it, I would have died a medical mystery.

SLA Hit List
True story

Back in 1974 my father was a local politician in Berkeley, California who was on the SLA’***** list as “an enemy of the people, a fascist insect that needed to be killed”.  His crime?  As President of the community college district, he began requiring IDS for students and staff to combat campus crime at the local community colleges.  We had 24/7 police coverage for a while. One morning I saluted my father, “good morning fascist insect”.  My father, being of Germanic stock did not like the joke as jokes are alien to the German DNA.


the End
based on dreams and nightmares
Penguin Poems Sep 2018
If want was water,
I would be drowning, my head under completely
and my oxygen quickly depleting.
If confusion was cold,
My fingers would be numb and I wouldn't even
have a coat to ward off the freezing.
If youth was you,
It would be slipping away by the second,
And I can't get a hold to stop it.
Now,
my air is gone,
I'm shivering to the bone,
and can't keep a hold on.
But, this is only a poem:
I know I'm not suffocating, subzero, or slipping.
But I can't help but feel like the more I write,
the farther I get from reality
and the closer I get to metaphor mortality.
Gods1son Nov 2018
I just want to ask one question
Is the human race obeying the mathematical rule called BODMAS?
Just a refresher...  
Brackets, Orders, Division, Multiplication, Addition and Subtraction

We have created different brackets
where we enclose people like casket
He's black, she's white, they are rich,
those are poor, she's educated, he's religious, he's fat, she's slim... Brackets

People are treated differently
Based on the class that we've put them in
Some are raised to power like exponents
Others are trapped in like square roots...Orders

The segregation has only intensified our division
I don't fit in here, I belong over there
My group is stronger, those ones are losers... Division

Disunity and absence of love has caused
A multiplication of our problems
Threats, deportation, persecution
We don't like them, we'll bomb them
War, insurgency, terrorism, hate speech... Just problems Multiplication

Every second, our population is experiencing several additions
Our population keeps growing while
Our natural resources are being exploited
And depleting at a rate faster than our population growth
Our resources are experiencing severe subtractions

I just want to ask one more time...
Aren't we obeying BODMAS?
My personal opinion...
Timmy Shanti Jun 2012
To smile at the carnation,
So gallantly growing,
At peace with this world.
In silence...
I tune in a short conversation
Between minds and bodies -
Incredibly cold.

My heart has surrendered
To nightingale's song.
I dream of Rhode Island...
I'm leaving! So long!

The winds of Sonora,
My nannies and friends.
My love for Evora -
My tears know no end.

The shadows of Mordor,
With sunrise they fade.
Grace, Kindness and Splendour:
Three Buddhas in jade.

I feed roastede pidgeone
To poor ryebread crumbs.
Avoiding curmudgeons,
I'm playing professional dumb.

Caressing the grass-blades,
I live in a drop.
Arcadian arcade:
There, God has no job.

In hurting the Nature
We drain our souls.
Let’s all at once cease
Being ignorant ghouls.

...To stroke the carnation,
To gently kiss buds.
To eat simple meals
Like lentils and spuds.

To carry some water,
To chop down some trees.
To stop feeling rotten.
My soul is at peace.

The time is forever,
The purpose is now.
No “when” and no “where”,
No “why” and no “how”.

The light effervescent,
The sound circumaural,
The hearts ever-pleasant,
The dreams polynomial.

...Collapsing eternity,
Upheaving humanity,
Rock-bottom fraternity,
Defying the gravity.

Creative destruction
Is staunchly forbidding.
The wisdom of ancients
Is widely-misleading.

Depleting our anger
Is key to survival.
Harnessing the hunger,
Improptu revival.

Combustion of senses,
Precarious laughter.
Incurable sepsis,
Delirious canter.

Regrets are forgotten,
Bright days are all-cherished.
Let’s live unbegotten
Until we all perish.

13.06.2012
Joshleen Kumar Feb 2019
With various Oceans in the world around
And less of land and solid ground
71 % is Ocean and 29 % is land to be exact
That is the reality and the startling fact
Unfathomed are the waters, deep and blue
How does the Ocean matter to me or you?
As a matter of the Earths Biology and Chemistry
The data on Oceans is no longer a mystery
Oceans are the lifeblood of planet earth and mankind
As here is one of the greatest ecosystems we can find
Carbons are removed for the air and buried deep in the Ocean
In turn, the marine plants give back to us the required oxygen
The Ocean is the planet’s most important climate regulator
As it absorbs the ultra-rays from the sun and solar factor
Which in turn gives the atmosphere a cooling effect
Otherwise the world would be too hot to inhabit
The evaporation of vapor from sea is recycled back as rain
Without which our life on earth would be so much in vain
Our Oceans are magnificent and represent a scenic beauty
The breath-taking views serve their tourist attraction duty
The atolls, the lagoons and the white sandy beaches
The crashing huge waves and the dazzling marine creatures
Oceans are a safe and direct route of travel for ships and boats
Which is convenient and cheaper without a need for expansive roads
The Oceans are naturally part of an aquatic sporting arena
Where yachting, sailing, scuba diving and snorkeling are a winner
The Oceans are a hub and powerhouse with various economic activities
Where wealth is derived cheaply and aplenty with little difficulties
In fact the Ocean is like the headquarters of the World Bank
Where all the worlds’ assets are sitting within a large tank
From large scale fishing, pearl and seaweed farming
Gas and oil extraction and as far as minerals from mining
Cooking salt is derived from the oceans and is therefore iodized
Arid nations have sea water purified for drinking after it is de-salinized
The range of economic activities derived from the Ocean is manifold
But with the depleting state of Marine resources, what does our future hold?
Thousands of people have lived without love but none without water
As every drop counts but having an Ocean at your mercy is even better
A healthy Ocean means that we have a healthy, thriving nation
As it is the Ocean that provides us with a chunk of our daily ration



An Ocean is rich and full of resources and is a great asset
Without which the world would be poorer, just like in debt
From the Highlanders, the city folks and the coastal dwellers as such
We all need the Ocean somehow or the other and very, very much
Resources of the Ocean are of course very limited
So use it wisely and just take what is sparingly permitted
Climate change aided by our misguided actions is taking its toll
The smaller island nations are drowning together with the atolls
If offending life on land would vanish, the creatures in the Ocean will flourish
If life in Oceans were to perish, the creatures on land would die malnourished
We need the Ocean more than what the Ocean needs us
We cannot survive alone at the neglect of the Ocean thus
That is why the Ocean matters so dearly to me
Can we all put up our hands for this “me” to become a “we”?
So that the Ocean remains intact and in good health
And we can keep on living off well from the Oceans wealth?
DaSH the Hopeful Sep 2015
You enter
      Riding on a soundtrack of rising blood pressure and self defeat
       Every conversation kills itself at the sight of you;
     A *joke
not quite worth telling, that no one would laugh at anyway
          Every eye stops to stare at you
        *An aging car crash of a human

Wrecked and painted in dried blood
     Seducing onlookers with a rinky-**** smile
     Missing the convenient yellow caution tape that tells you life stops here
          
       You complain to fill the spaces left by your depleting self worth
  That wasn't much there in the first place
In the mirror you see dirt
    And you can't wash it away
, no matter how hard you try
Cause you're ****** in all the wrong ways
Up until you die


     Unintelligently designed
Your stupidity is almost genius
       You blame others for mishaps that you have gained
                            Your sickness a silent auction
                       Anyone could have caught it
       Infectious Anonymous
Attended every week
      And yet you're still so pathetic
you don't accept you're a disease worse than any flare up that could take hold
        You don't know how to recognize the facts that you've been told

       You complain to fill the spaces left by your depleting self worth
  That wasn't much there in the first place
In the mirror you see dirt
    And you can't wash it away
, no matter how hard you try
*Cause you're ****** in all the wrong ways
Up until you die
Restinpiss
NitaAnn Aug 2013
Every day you wake up and you feel it,
There, within you, that implacable ache.
How do you explain the pain?
A shot or pill doesn't make it go away.
You suffer it.
It consumes you, the dark loneliness.
You look in the mirror; run your hands over your body
And are surprised to realize that you can't see or feel the hole you know is right there.
All day long it dogs your steps, mocking you as you try to ignore it and move past it, or around it.

Not understanding how to battle it,
Controlled pain gives you a fleeting sensation of triumph.
When you are dealing with the pain of an empty stomach,
The pain of bruised and lacerated flesh,
The dark ache is forced to the background.
You have triumphed!
You are tough!

You feel invincible
As the shadow has been made small
And been put in its place…all by you.
You begin to feel that if you can sustain the pain,
The silhouette will be forced to retreat forever.
But like any drug,
It begins to take more and more pain to win the battle.

You find yourself losing track.
How long has it been since I last ate?
Where did I put the razor?
People talk to you
And you don't really hear them,
You’re so focused on your own internal battle.
Everything starts to seem far away,
As though it isn’t really happening to you,
but a character on TV.

It has tricked you
And all you are doing is nourishing it.
Feeding, nurturing, encouraging it to grow.
With each of your attempts to erase the darkness from your spirit,
You are giving it the ultimate control.
Each act of self-inflicted pain is fostering the next,
Weakening your spirit and allowing the darkness to fester.
Your technique of starvation doesn't work any longer
Because you can't feel the pain,
So you move to cutting, purging, thinking that it will bring back that sensation.
The darkness cackles with amusement at your foolishness.

Each day, your body grows weaker,
Less able to sustain you.
Your physical power is depleting
Along with the power of your spirit.
The world is losing color and you begin to ignore it.
The battle inside has become all-consuming
And nothing else exists.
You feel sure that the next time you will defeat it.
Everything around you is the darkness, the pain,
The hole in your heart has engulfed your whole being and you need to fill it.
Because of this, because of your knowledge of the battle,
Of the strength it requires,
You stop listening to the weaker individuals around you.
They have no idea and couldn't possibly understand what you are dealing with.
They have no idea that you are failing!
You are losing this battle and nothing else matters.

How could they like someone as incompetent as you,
Let alone love you?
You can't even manage to handle something as simple as this little hole.
Your spirit has weakened.
What's left?
You are physically and spiritually weak,
Possibly dying, and you still have yet to achieve your goal.
The belief that sustained you,
The belief that you could create enough pain to banish the shadow, is fading.
Yet, you continue to hang on to it.
You need to get to that place of perfection…
If you can just get there,
You think you will be whole again
And you will finally be worthy of love,
Worthy of the admiration and respect you crave.
You will wage the battle in silence, never letting anyone know,
So the victory will be that much sweeter,
The love and respect more worthwhile for the extra effort required to earn it.

You keep telling yourself that
Soon you will be able to walk in the light
Not realizing that your resources are depleting quickly.
You have become trapped.
You can't escape.
The light is so small now.
You know that the end is coming.

Do you wait for it?
Do you let go and die?
Do you do the unthinkable and ask for help?
Both options are unpalatable,
As they require an admission of failure,
The admission that you could not conquer the darkness on your own.
An admission of how weak you really are.

The first is the easier option.
You let go and let the darkness wash you away.
You never have to face the ones you have been fighting for.
You never have to see their disappointment in you.
It is the cowardly way.
You have avoided your punishment for failure.
It is the end, the ultimate surrender.

Or, you face them,
The ones you have tried to impress,
And admit to them that you lost.
This is the true test of your determination,
To admit your weakness and ask for help.
This is a true sacrifice.
To face them, knowing that they won't understand or they may not care.
The pain of opening yourself up is more painful than any bruise, cut, or empty stomach.
You have to face all that you fear.
All that you have been fighting and more,
You face the total destruction of your spirit,
A total loss of who you are and the loss of the world as you know it.

Your first true combat with the darkness begins.
You feel alone… you feel stripped and naked.
You feel fear.
You have bared your soul, you have admitted defeat.

The real battle has begun.
Debbie Lydon Feb 2019
I'm told that feeling and love are innate,
So why can't I communicate?
I'm despairing and longing for human connection,
But I'm met with indifference or even rejection.

Internally I harbour thoughts of kindness,
But they wither in the wake of external blindness,
I'm obsessed with truth and authenticity,
And this comes at the detriment of anyone knowing me.

An extreme fear of misunderstanding remains,
Despite me knowing that this is my ball and chain,
A depleting hope lingers on in my dreams,
So fragile and weak, a mere ember it seems.
A poem concerning the difference between the way you are perceived and the way you perceive yourself. A fear of misunderstanding is ever present in a society that is fueled by facades and a cold approach to eachother. It causes pain and this is becoming more and more overt in our day to day lives.
KM Jones Jul 2010
She had given up trying to write stories; her inability to even tell one had frightened away even her most far-fetched of hopes. Her own story consisted of monotony. He was her plot; he was her heart; he made her happy, and then that was the end. Outside of that shallow framework, she contented herself with solitude and sleep deprivation. She spent her life counting seconds, minutes, hours of wasted time.  She had been born a dreamer with two left feet and too much caution to pursue her own dreams. She used to dare to believe herself to be a poet; filled notebook after filled notebook is tucked away in her drawer to prove it. She envied the prose of others, the poetry of life, every piece she could never be creative enough to write. She filled her shelves with half-read classics, pretentiousness at its finest. She admired Hemingway, Nabokov, Vonnegut, but read nothing or no one religiously. Ironically, her deepest fear was not that she was incapable of making a difference but that she would forever be too afraid to try. She was ambitious but without reason and she without reason once she had fallen in love. (However, she would have never changed  the existence of that love for all the world.) He was her every waking and slumbering thought, her beginning and her end, her every muse and very writer's block. She had written in times of adversity; she had written in times of desperation; nevertheless, she found herself incapable of writing in times encompassed by the selflessness of love.

She perceived art to be a reflection of one's own self or perceptions of the world around them. However, he was her entire world, altogether far too familiar to invent and yet far too mysterious to define. He was the dim outline of a dream she couldn't recall, the scent of nostalgia she couldn't place, the familiar face she could have only known in another life. He was the everything of which she could say nothing. A speechless poet is of no value to their audience; she was a poet without even an audience to please. Her father had once called her a brick-layer. She could not move from one sentence to the next without first cementing each and every word unrelentingly into its place. She was not a river, as the best of writers were. She was not a writer, as the most unabashed of dreamers are. She was a failed poet, a feigned intellectual, the uncensored rush of air from a depleting balloon- pure energy- without direction and  inevitably lacking endurance. Perhaps these realities were what kept her from writing her story. Perhaps it was her pursuit of appearing to be an artist that prevented her from actually becoming one. She looked to answer questions of inspiration amidst happiness, after all, shouldn't inspiration spill over in such times, overwhelmingly, uncontrollably, and without end? Additionally, where did inspiration come from anyway, within or without one's own mind? But, surprisingly, the one question she wanted most to ask herself was, if every second not spent moving forward was one more she counted as wasted, why she did not waste one more moment hopelessly trying again?
July 22, 2010 - From third person diary entries
Michael W Noland Aug 2012
a beast
bitterly binding
the broken books
of the benevolence
that be-seats
the thrones of thieves
a binary botulism baby
survived by
the lowest common denominator
lord of may be
the calamity shaker
shaking limbs from trees
he made me
who am i
to be enshrined by
the designs in which
he heaves the storms away
leaves the drones in decay
as of yesterday
in an electrical parfait
of symbiotic energy
******* tempting me
in its tether
as embryonic entities
shutter the flow
to the effects
that no one knows
of the development and growth
of self
and the foes he oppose
as was imposed upon
by force of will
exposed and deloused
of the shrill
cockiness instilled
in his build
aroused
in the post stillness
of his kills
he is i
and i am thrilled
to lower the shields
leveling out the playing field
and yielding
to the technical terminology
of my basic demonologies
of my ****** up philosophies
cloning the technologies
you infuse into the spirituality
of your broken dichotomy
just let me know
how that goes
as corrosive winds blow
through the boroughs
of your haunts
i can almost feel
the taunts
as i hear the boots clomp
turn to stomping through the door
enacting your unholy chores
in that which bares no reward
the price is blood
the cost is love
in which i cannot afford
unfurled upon the hoard
in torn intellect
abhorred in the twirls
of a de-cored vortex
inter-sexed
and robbed of originality
in the result of cultural finality
empty
in a sea of dreams
our heads blown apart
is only the start
as it seems
ill be whispering
from afar
by dark
yet to embark
from under the rage of my darkening heart
but if i hiss cyphers into your charts
ill become safer than the cause
as i shall get the sympathy
of the claws
across my character
in the jaws of the barrier
to non existence
its even scarier
than the persistence
of ignorant citizens
with hard-ons
and night vision
down-loadable intuition
with the precision of the averages
unlocked savages
in the ravages
of synthetic bliss
1.1 happiness
projected in eyelids
emptiness
defectors of the world
gotta free them
beat them
if you have to
defeat them in the bathroom with a knife
rip their chips of deceit
show them life
clip their legs in retreat
until they secrete
the evil from their throats
binary bohemia
pooling into a despondent
pool of blasphemy
drained happily
from the heads of greed
only when willing
to commit to killing
can we fix the dream
and control the lean
of modernized thinking
chromatically depleting
as our chromosomes are shrinking
not one inkling
nor notion
of the ocean sinking
before the rise
and in all that you bitterly despise
forgotten
as the world is washed
before your eyes
yet to realize
the compliance of failed tries
a crashed system of self told lies
yet ...
i still spy the better days
i can smell them in range
estranged
surprised
i muffle the cries
of demise
in reprise
of a new name
a fresh start
summarized
in the surmise
of restraint
the faint
whisper
delivering from here
the elixir of life's experiences
cryptically laid upon the sentences
of my ethereal commencements
the beautiful lessons
entrenched in the blemishes
the scars of the heart
impart
on you
the virtues
of the tried and true
blood sweat and tears
in the blurbs
of yesteryear
obtuse
it be my will
to instill
in you
the
jaded
truth
love yourself
and i shall
love you
too
RAJ NANDY Aug 2018
Dear Friends, this poem was composed many years ago and posted on ‘Poemhunter.com’. Time here is compared to the money lender and miser Shylock in Shakespeare’s ‘Merchant Of Venice’, where Shylock insisted on cutting out a pound of flesh from the merchant Bassanio, for having failed to pay back the loan taken from Shylock! Hope you like it, - Raj


                TIME THE GREAT USURER
      TIME the great usurer, is a great miser too,
      Always knows the cost of things to be paid
      back by you!
      It readily loans you the desired amount in
      number of years.
      Smilingly assures and allays all your doubts
      and fears.
      It makes the loan to appear like a free gratis,
      So you hardly bother to take any notice!

       But with the passage of growing years and
       life depleting with time,
       In paying back your interests, you got to
       default sometime.
       Precisely at that moment, the usurer knocks
       rather loud,
       And through death takes back its’ principal
       amount !
      
       Alas, Time the great Shylock knows the cost
       of everything.
       When will it learn to appreciate the value
       we attach to things?
                                             -Raj Nandy, New Delhi.
Mysidian Bard Jan 2017
It started as a puncture,
but the seam slowly ripped;
a thimble can't protect
from a poison needle tip.

She tried to mend it
by making more holes;
the tear only grew
and grew out of control.

At the spinning wheel
her life would quickly dwindle;
frantic attempts to hem
were depleting the spindle.

What started as a puncture
of seductive sedation
fueled the abuse
of machined perforation.

"Don't mourn a living corpse"
were the last words she said
as she drew the needle
that held the last thread.
The Mellon Oct 2018
People are beautiful,

However.

Pretty people please a perverted industry,
Of powerful men
Preferring **** to passion to progress,

Preferring ******* productions over
#metoo protests
As mr. president likes to grab 'em by the p..

Provoking pain-passing-fists
Pulsating pro-rights protests,
Journalists plee for coverage praying no one pulls a
Knife and produces plumes of blood from the press
All while
Young picassos paint Guernica in America.

A broken people of a nation perpatrating hate-

Where red plus blue can only make purple-
But dark blue and dark red parish and persecuted plee for due process?

Plain racism profoundly perpatrates power and policy because polititions prefer power over people!

A parchment in hand is worth two poor people on the shores of Philippine islands passing pork bones around on plastic forks polluteing ashore to portion a pathetic excuse for super.

Admittedly population proceeding proper capacity depleting the recourse needed per proper production for product based programs-
-tax breaks produce proper rich persons-
Poor penny pedalers paddle street corners prostituting their dinner from someone's porch steps.

Pathetic "Presidential" GOPs
Catapaulting propaganda past press outlets producing media paranoia.

Piranhas perhaps are the least problematic politition ashore.
Petulance is peace right?

Perhaps Palestinian misplacement and
Poor communication produce
A melting *** per pound of C 4
Blasting
Terrarist propaganda pasted
On highways toting plywood posters
Providing hate.

Parasitic politics polluting a proud nation
Patrolled by plastic islands and pay-per-view gun violence.
Police brutality providing protection for
Parkland shooting,
The NRA having premeditated lawsuits against progress

Programs protecting people getting
Passed-

-Sorry blocked,

By political party(s)
Preferring deep pockets to
Public safety

Appocoliptic predictions
Loom in present day policy
As unreputable "science" papers
Preach lies to gospel preachers

Perhaps human problems
Produce paper cuts
Peeling skin to skin
For radical apologies to bleed out,

Perhaps bleeding pools
Poor out filling
Evaporated paradise
With EPA Pruit's preference of
Proper science.

Perhaps penguins and polar bears
Produced proper plans:

Die off before the planet plummets per plume cloud of nuclear power.
Or more likely planetary pestilence
For people.
Inspired by Harry Bakers poem "Paper People"
Hyperventilation
Depleting frustration
Suffocation
A painful sensation
Desperation
Without moderation
Devastation
Eternal damnation
Deprivation
Emotional mutilation
Derealization
Fear escalation
Depersonalization
Self extermination
This kind of sums up my feelings during a panic attack.
Left Foot Poet Jan 2019
"Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!"
                                                          ­Polonius (Hamlet)
~~~
read these words in a past, as a punk teenager,
back in the mid-you-wouldn't-believe-it-flintztone-age
returned to them, nowadays
when I am seven by ten decades squared, older not wiser

three people told me
what a lucky man I am today,


Even before the noon hour dare arrive,
a shocking delivered by an electrocardio telegram,
thus instigating a product recall of Shakespeare’s blessing season,
drawn from a stale teenage memory storage fast depleting

"This above all: to thine ownself be true"
which denies the false escape
of being false to any human

ingesting this thrice lucky man observation
into the internal inward-facing telescoping observatory,
where I map the true course of the
star-stories
well held in the constellations of my life,
never forgetting that this holistic ecosystem that is my
mind~body must evaluate the truth of this claim

its veracity will differ when assayed by
the big toe of my left foot from whence the poetry comes,
as well as those other interfering guys,
body, mind, heart and soul,
then re-evaluated by the internecine warring of those whiny parts,
the tongue, the hands, the eyes saying me, me,
that perforce means a dynamic constant changing
of every thing

in other words,
thine own truths are fluidity ever changing,
the mapping of your blessings,
best done in pencil with room
for expansion, reversal, and misdirection

have I lost you dear reader?

My Left Foot squeals,
fools, you just hammered
three more nails in the coffin of his depression,
where woes and toes know the inevitable repetition of the troubles he has already deemed, and now foreseen are yet,
ladies in waiting to take him to the tower

My Mind says
in obvious aspects people, you are 100% correct,
but the Inquistors are not fooled, patient in their queries;
My Body simply asks, err, does that make me look fat?
My Souls defers with a yada yada, not my problem, deal with it...

The facts tranverse and reverse,
Ah, the truths of my blessings
As much confusing and last defusing

The little drummer boy marches me in reverse retreat,
while shouting out in time a marching refrain:

Luck can be stored, used then, never more,
Its algorithm, a lifetime calculation,
Woe is me, thrice, deemed lucky,
But the map of my blessing reveals my positioning,
At the map-edge I stand, the last border be just ahead,
Seasons, maps, blessings must stop to journey,
What others see upon me outward, outdated,
All maps, all blessings are black-line bounded,
So too, am I, bounded, confused and confounded

The algorithm computes my nine lives are now radium depleted,
The shell, the shell no longer can be fired,
Even the half life has evaporated, used,
Though it looks fit, the luck has eroded, the feet now touching
My map edged in black, its legend, of use, never more


November 2017
Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame!
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
And you are stay’d for.
There; my blessing with thee!

And these few precepts in thy memory
See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means ******.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch’d, unfledged comrade.
Beware Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
Bear’t that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!
Roberta Day May 2014
Exhausted
from feeling
   reeling
peeling away my exoskeleton
of mossy vehemence

Disgusted
from festering
pestering bacteria
leeching my energy
depleting my senses

Desensitized
towards romance
no chance
for me
Sinking
in a swamp
instead of grasping
for relief

Ashamed
for allowing
disavowing
natural instincts
Crying
   dying
internally invaded
by poisonous neglect
  Suicide
by choking on
your spoken words
I kept
Isabelle Jul 2013
What is change?
Well people change,
But dreams can fade away,
Or new wishes can be made.
Where to start,
How about today?
New ideas are explained.
But plans are delayed.
That's change?
Feelings are displayed.
Rejection is portrayed.
That's change?
If you want to change the world
You must start with yourself.
If you're doing nothing then
You're a book on a empty shelf.
You've been thinking, not speaking.
But there's children who aren't eating
You've been bitter and whining,
But the forests they are dying
You've been stubborn and upset
But the trash is making a mess.
Sit down and observe.
The things we've done to a beautiful world.
Is it fair?
You sit mighty in your chair.
All that money and power.
The environments you devour
And that's change!?
Are you satisfied?
Killing innocent lives.
The resources are depleting
But it's you, up on top, we're believing.
Voices are unheard.
But you sit,
You watch,
The crumbling world.
But that one word,
Can move a generation
Can fix the nation
It's change.
Change the way we live
So we can live longer,
So we can be stronger.
A few simple steps,
And it starts with yourself.
Believe that you can help
**To change
Went on a volunteer trip to Costa rica and came back as a new person. We cannot keep over developing countries when the ocean animals and the peoples safety rely on the resources we're destroying. Please make small adjustments in your life to help change
Change pollution save help destroy
Copyright © 2013 Isabelle Tietbohl
Lover of Words Dec 2012
I feel trapped in a tower,
Man, I need a shower,
And my eyes are so very tired,
I wanna go away,
And take another vaca,  Not go back to school as soon,
Oh to have a job where it's not so freezing,
And to have my brain depleting of thoughts that were so precious before,
I wanna rewind and go back in time,
To the days were worry was nevermore,
But on this bleak and dreary *** day,
I can only but complain of my sad and pathetic Christmas blues,
A New year to fail at everything I do,
So sad to say,
But in other words you have a nice day
The taste of copper and abandoned dreams..
The air is stale and dry in the room where
the lonely trumpet man plays.
A broken tune and a broken heart
wails through all hours of the night.
He suddenly stops.
His lips are drawn away from the instrument
and his fingers no longer dance.
A lingering silence seizes every
ounce of his life, depleting his soul.
The nameless, insignificant man collapses,
his faithful trumpet follows him to the floor.
With a struggled last breath, he passes on,
but his music is still ringing in my ears.
Why are people intentionally cruel and malignant?
Are they too blind to mistake their Achilles’s heel for their forte?
Or do they intentionally enjoy obliterating anything that comes their way?
Indubitably, reeling into their self-destruction and collapse as the roof caves.

Repelling any benevolence into their lives,
They will close all doors with their narrow minds.
Atrociousness will prevail and set forth unfathomable tongues of rhyme.
Seeking insatiable supremacy governing in disguise.

Clearly oblivious to the detrimental exploits they expose,
They will lead a life that is solely self-imposed.
Cultivating an environment of animosity is not astute you see,
People will always revolt and eventually be set free.

Unless you morally evolve and realize you have wronged,
You will embark on a journey that will negatively consume your soul.
It begins with your physical state, depleting with every irrational action you make.
Ultimately, deteriorating your body into an anemic vegetable state.

Reeking of insecurities through the infusion of wretchedness and despair,
your life will begin to turn inside out transforming into an eternal torment of misery and hell.
However, it's never too late to change your tyrannical direction.
It's only compassion, empathy, and altruistic love that will be your salvation.

By: Michael M. De La Fuente
"Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend." - Martin Luther King, Jr.
Lover of Words Oct 2012
19 years of boring days,
19 years of tears,
19 years of things drastically falling apart and never making any sense,
that is 19 years of trying to figure things out, like my body, and who the heck am I?
19 years of loving any guy who dare speak to me,
and 19 years of heartache figuring out that they didn't love me back,
19 years of dreaming and reading and wondering,
19 years of thinking, about everything really,
About God, and life, and why in the world am I here,
and 19 years of drawing,
19 years of human pain, like that time I had to get surgery for a broken leg,
Then there is a ton of mental and emotional pain, like heart break,
And other ****,
19 years of loving my family and friends for being there in my desperate times of despair,
And 19 years of not realizing that they were there the whole entire time,
19 years of trying to find my unrealistic and perfect Mr. Darcy,
which of course does not exist, well to my knowledge at least,
19 years of crushes on all the wrong guys,
And 19 years of never acknowledging the prime and proper ones who were gonna treat me right,
19 years of having to schoolwork, and now in college its more work then I have ever imagined,
And sometimes I just break down and cry because the stress of it all is depleting me of all my energy and time,
19 years of not knowing how to function around certain people, like at all sometimes,
And 19 years of having some of the greatest friends in the world to go out with on random nights to smoke hookah,
19 years of happy days,
And 19 years of having your heart ripped out of your chest and beaten on the side of the road until it can barely beat anymore,
19 years of having sucky days that make you want to jump off a cliff and **** yourself, or anybody at all really,
Like the first person you wake up in the morning and dares speak to you,
19 years of feeling tired, like every day,
19 years of eating delicious junk food, drinking water, laughing so hard I can't even breath, spilling coffee, talking so fast I forget what I am even saying and slipping up on everything.
19 years of foul plays and just really bad mistakes that you thought were gonna turn out good, but hit you really hard in the face,
So 19 birthdays to celebrate all these crazy and silly happenings that make me wanna go insane,
But I'm not so sure where I be without it all, without
Christian Reid Oct 2014
Exemplify without try
Each teacher bears the
Burden of account,
But the only way
They carry it is with
The strength of humility
--The emptiness to learn,
The fullness to teach--
And they do it without speaking,
Flowing like a river
Through a fountain
--Ever depleting,
Ever replenishing--
Omar Kawash Jul 2014
Two villages coexisted peacefully, no interactions
maybe some discussion on boundaries, treaties for peace and trade.
An extraneous rumor appeared in one of these villages.
No one was sure where it had started.
Someone mentioned they had seen beastly faces emerge in the night horizon.
The whispers made its way through
soon the town was mortified.

The others, they were observing us.
What could they want that they could not communicate overtly?
The villagers made a decision to protect themselves,
their lives,
their happiness –their status quo
that had been so well kept; now jeopardized by fear.  

Traders continued their interactions,
sharing goods and language.
The ignorant village heard the small-talk,
the covert operations the coinciding people had been ruminating about.

The newly-informed town magnified and mutated
the gossip;
the folk were riddled with anxiety.
If their neighbors were under threat,
what was stopping them from being the next target?  
This xenophobia was to destroy them.

The two ostracized each other;
initial misperception grew
to a common hallucination amongst the people,
they prepared for the worst scenario.

As humanity goes,
somewhere a zero-sum game emerged.

A council was held,
all that they had known was their own home
and the adjacent peoples.
There was nothing else in the known world,
it must be the others.
They are planning on something villainous,
why else the secrecy?

Cut trade, be vigilant, ostracize.
The other village noticed something amiss
Calamity must be in path.
Taking up arms, arranging a force to handle any offenses, and establishing a wall;
they would not fall.

Feud was conceived.
This is the drive of a mind
who incessantly wonders why and how
a devouring morality.

I digress from the story: the villages, armed and defense ready,
see the village that they once knew as peaceful neutrals
once tranquilly existed transformed to potential threats
for they could overthrow the opposing village.
I should be unconquerable
but I know the kisses stealing my breath come with every
inhale,
exhale; my kryptonite is facing life.

I choose to face that fiend
which wouldn’t let me actually give up when there is so much unknown out there.
It’ll haunt me with the damages that I dealt to the allure yet provocation preserves me.

The two villages are within me.
One is the soul depleting, ego-hunting energy ****,
the other is the false hope that I
can change things-
that things are within my control-
that I’ll fake a smile and a real one will appear.

Two hemispheres connected in a skull,
failing to synchronize
a miscalculating rational with a quixotic imaginative vision.

These two villages smoulder;
the clashes zigzag my intentions.
I just wish I knew
what that fictitious, fruit of the grapevine generated monster even was.
It’s been ages since this conflict ignited,
I don’t think any villager knows why they fight each other perpetually,
other than survival.
AAYARA ZAYN Jul 2018
I A WANDERER
VISIT DIFFERENT PLACES
TO BECOME A FOLLOWER
OF THE NATURE
AND IT'S LOVELY ADVENTURE
I SEE HILLS   AND CLIFFS
THAT SAY
"DARE TO TRY ME OUT"
I SEE LAKE AND RIVERS
THAT  SAYS
"I AM LIKE FLOWING TIME"
AND I SEE MOTHER NATURE
CRYING FOR HELP
BECAUSE HER BODY IS DEPLETING
I SEE ANIMALS THAT
NEED MY HELP
LOVE,AFFECTION
I SEE INSECTS
THAT TRY TO HARM ME
AND INSECTS
WHO HELPS  ME
I SEE HUMAN
LARGE CITY PEOPLE
DIFFERENT RACES OF PEOPLE
I SEE SAD AND HOMELESS PEOPLE
BEGGARS AND RICH PEOPLE
THEN I SEE MYSELF
AND
MY LIFE AS
AS A WANDERER
AND I DO NOT KNOW WHAT
I WILL BE IN NEXT LIFE
THEN I SEE
THE CREATOR OF THE WORLD
LOOKING CALM
AND SEEING  ALL OUR  REACTION
BUT HAS NOTHING TO SAY
THEN I  WANDER
AROUND THE WORLD
I SEE PLANTS , FLOWER AND
TREES
BEING DESTROYED
I SEE ANIMALS
VANISHING INTO THIN AIR
AND SLOWLY AS MY WANDERING
PERIOD COMES TO END
I SEE HUMANS
OLD, WEAK
HELPLESS
WITHOUT MOTHER NATURE
AND HER LOVELY  CHILDREN
EVERYONE KILLED BY HUMANS
AND I FEEL THE PEOPLE
THE PEOPLE HAUNTING  ME
LIKE I AM THEIR FOOD
SLOWLY I SEE THEY LOOK EACH OTHER AS
FOODS
AND FINALLY WHEN MY LIFE COMES
TO A END
I FEEL
THE  MOTHER NATURE DYING ALONG SIDE ME
hani aqil Mar 2018
negative b plus/minus square root b² minus 4ac over 2a, the quadratic formula;
the numbers don't lie.

10th June, 2002; my birth.
the numbers don't lie.

when y equals to 0 you can find
the x-intercepts;
the numbers don't lie.

#03-04; my unit.
the numbers don't lie.

I am better than everyone but
1
person in this room;
the numbers don't lie.

when y equals to a times (x-h)² plus k,
(h,k) is the vertex;
the numbers don't lie.

157 cm; my height.
the numbers don't lie.

negative b over 2a,
the axis of symmetry;
the numbers don't lie.

16th April, she told me she would love me forever,
23rd May, we kissed,
14th February, she told me to leave her forever;
glassy-hearted valentine;
the numbers don't lie.

negative b² minus 4 times a times c,
the discriminant;
the numbers don't lie.

43 kg; my weight.
the numbers don't lie.

my value is exponentially depleting but
I am still better than 7 out of 10 of you;
the numbers don't lie.

when x equals to 0 you can find
the y-intercept;
the numbers don't lie.

3 times, my drowning attempts failed;
the numbers don't lie.

I think my days are numbered;
I don't lie.
ughdrey Jun 2013
Gal
Even on the coldest days of winter, there is a much colder creature who lives in the caverns and chambers of the rocky cliffs by the shore line. His name is Palytrus, he resembles what most believe would be a devil. Palytrus is the only of his kind that he knows of. He has searched ocean floors and dug through grains of sand searching for anything that resembled what he sees in the reflection of the water. He feeds recklessly. His darkened emotions drive him to leave his meals soulless, countless, and dead. Palytrus believes by getting rid of others, he'll find what he's looking for. He thinks if he can clear the land, he’s bound to find someone like him. And he does.
While hunting under the waves for the few birds and fish that feed on the bones he leaves, he sees his reflection above him. He knows it is not him though. He has swum this way for as long as he can remember and when he sees this, he panics. He shoots up and startles the other creature. He exclaims he's been so lonely and he's so happy to find another. She speaks, she says her name is Galo and that she came to see if there was any shelter in the area but notices that there is not much food. "Something has been eating everything and the birds and fish are becoming so rare here." Palytrus knows this because he has had a hard time looking for food as well but he cannot tell her he's responsible for the greedy extinction of food he caused because of his anger.
But his anger is lifted, all he wants is for her to live so he spends days and nights hunting. He shows her the cavern he calls home and she stays while he hunts. He brings her as many animals as he can find and every time he watches her with a smile, content that he has found someone relatable.
Galo awakes one morning and finds Palytrus is dead. He starved himself for her, he gave every ounce of food he found to her. She wept by his side as she ate him, not because she was hungry, but because she wanted him to be a part of her forever and not picked off by whatever other animals remained. She left the cavern to find food. She found the place he lived and pried very lonely, much like Palytrus but what she failed to tell him was behind the caves and the ledges he had been living, lied another beach, full of food and others just like him. She was so flattered by his hospitality, she never thought to tell him.
Galo went back to her home and told the others she had found safety from the harshly cold nights they had been familiar with. The others were thrilled to know they had a home and traveled to Palytrus’ cave. Realizing there was no food, they would send packs out to the other side during the day to gather and come back to the cave to feast together at night.
Galo told everyone about Palytrus but told them a slightly different story. Instead of telling them he had starved to death after depleting the food supply for her, she told them he was a selfless being who left his home because he was contagiously and deathly ill. She told them that he wanted the others to survive and grow and for them to live fulfilled and bright lives. This was true, he didn’t want anyone to feel like he felt for so long. Galo, aware of the truth, never told a soul she fed on the one who saved them, but never let anyone forget his name or kindness either.
Devin Weaver Mar 2013
Repeating nightmares
Just to be sure—
Certain I’m this insecure
Depleting patience
Of conscious dead
From whom nature’s love has bled

The leaders of men
Have come to pray
But no gift can greed allay
Yes, no gift at all
From iron gods
Can assuage a soulless fraud

I call thee, War Horse
The time is nigh
Mars is mirrored in our eyes
And our empty hearts
Will beat anew
With blood vengeance shall accrue

Our humanity—
All our prowess
I bend unto your malice

Ego, madness, hubris, anger
Darkness, violence, loathing, doom
Fury, abhorrence, wrath, danger
Desire, frenzy, hatred, black bloom
Jobe David Jul 2013
Creative expressions, examine artistic talents.
Plan it out, count ounces, keep countering the balance.

Distant planets i feel more at place with,
disgraced by the disgusting face human-race-lift.
I'm currently placed here, a pessimistic cynic thinkin
sink or swim, who cares? i'm already ****** dippin in it.

Deep thoughts dropping, with brainstorm droughts often,
countermanding clever cogitation conjured in common;

I'm om nom nom-ing, busting every ****** ******,
endowed well where it counts never gave a ***** a problem.

Now drop that on an album, lay down a simple beat.
Sample the same **** over and over on repeat.
Call it a hype track, make some mixes, overlap.
Over a short duration you can claim to be savior of rap.
It's just that easy. Innovative minds depleting,
stillborn America with its heart still beating.

Patiently waiting..
I'm about to go crazy..
Basically, I better blow up or this hate is gonna take me.
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lX0st Dec 2019
I will dance
And I will spin
Until the room blurs
And the lightless gaps
Between swaying bodies
Absorb my ache
And longing

I will twist
And I will wring
Dizzily releasing
Whatever still clings
To my depleting soul
And replace it with champagne

And I will dance
Zulu Samperfas Jan 2014
Anxiety is at the heart of all that ails me
like my best friend ever, it has always been with me
So familiar, my anchor in the dark
I return to it endlessly to remind me that this is just like the rest
This new thing, this new test
is just the familiar torture you've known all your life

By my side, it destroys my mind, and I can't stop
this addiction, will always be with me,
The lies it tells me, that this turbo spinning depleting energy keeps me safe
That the constant tension that translates into fear and self hate
Is as it should, as it was set up for me
And blocks me, just when I want most to be free and easy

Letting go of my best friend, so scary, and feels so light
and beautiful, like the afternoon sun in a quiet garden
where everything is colorful and peaceful and the air is fresh and warm
and there is the smell of water from a hose...slightly rusty with an aromatic humidity
and little birds flutter about, and a sound of a buzzing insect appears occasionally
All is well, and from here I can do anything
but I catch myself: I am not safe without my best friend
and the ax falls down into the scene and it is now night and I am hungry and cold
and unwelcome and stalked and frightened, as it should be.

Anxiety is my enemy
It keeps me from this delight in life
and I can go on: and when I meet it again
I shouldn't welcome it in like a friend, but finally
be honest about it and say: go away
You have no use anymore in my life
You served me at one time, but that time is over
and you must evaporate
and I must face the fear alone, without you
You stay back, and I go forward, with courage.
r Nov 2013
People on the streets
Parents working second jobs
Trying to make ends meet
Savings depleting as prices rob
Mothers' seek cheapest cuts of meat
Politicians out to make wealthy richer
As if that were the answer to division
Between those that have not a pitcher
Or bowl large enough to catch false vision
Of milk and crumbs that never trickle down
From those who have and care not
For those whose voices have no sound
While criminals get three squares and a cot

r  3 Nov 13
sharpcastuser Jul 2019
This circle must complete
With each of Earth's orbit
It's a cycle that will repeat

But when global warming
Triggers mass glacial melting
From ozone layer's depleting

Where oil spills can ruin an ocean
Being used as garbage collection
Causing every ecosystem's suffocation

More landfills from over-consumption
Still, we opt for deforestation
Resulting in fresh water reduction

In disrupting her delicate cycle,
Can we understand that excess is not natural?
Wounded, it takes her longer to heal!

Like our mother, she has borne us all
Give her love! Must we watch her fall?
Open your eyes! Let's heed her call!

© 2004 - Pres  Hello-Poetry.com - All Rights Reserved
A Poem About Earth Day (Free Verse)
Helena A Ambers Jan 2012
something is happening.
i've been here before.
something is coming.
i've seen it before.
i've done it again, but too afraid to say it aloud.
so i write it here.
where i see no faces of readers.
it doesn't matter. so here i go...

what the **** is going on?
why are you back...
i'm drowning in my tears that don't come out.
instead they stay in.
i'm drowning.
when i'm awake.
when i'm asleep.
drowning from the floods.
drowning from the constant static noise in my head.
drowning from the fears...

yes, fear.
that is what you are.
why are you back?
what the **** do you want.
my soul has been a slave to you for years.
i moved. i changed. i got better.
but now you're back...
and i've done it again.
and again...
and again...

so here i am.
"so beautiful," " so smart..."
but drowning on the inside.
while i'm awake.
while i'm asleep.
Dominating, draining, depleting… me.
And I’m scared.

Won’t somebody help me?
Please...
Unnamed Apr 2014
The days come and go, and the rain follows suit
our empty minds drift on repeat
the oceans waves embrace our ankles,
but our souls are left with no affection

My daughter your life is more important that the air I breathe
your sleep will keep you warm when I am gone
the ocean waves will remind you,
of the land of tears we left behind.

— The End —