Listen to us, immersed in life:
Feel sensation (wipe away strife),
Know experience (and never desensitize).

Let the breeze amble by
touching clothes, flowing robes drifting over
soft air so quiet. Hold it there.

In the name of the wind
that brushes against our face,
Close contact on delicate skin, so
boldly tempting fate;
The words remained traced in the air:

-ALL ALPHA ALBEITT ACE.

Emulsified by dark days,
I used the memories to stay awake.
Keep it clean they say,
But my soul had been stained;
The senses had strayed too far away.

Bent to the will of the chems
they had been rendered slaves;
Surreality does slyly misbehave.

Draw simple oxygen into your being
as an empyreal tidal wave rises again;
The air around me speaks psychedelic zen.

Things are winding down now,
I can see it clearly
I never meant to be like this
It's not who I am, not really.
You told me so many things
That I now see as lies,
But when I try to tell you
You just desensitize.
I'm somehow really good at
Messing everything up,
But I always try to be a good person
Even though I should just shut up.

Forgot what I searched for to find heaven.
But I know that at the age of seven
I seized my mother’s phone and found a god.
He led me to an arresting world with strings.

Strings that swept your hair the way the wind does
when your ego would reach the sparkling skies.
They touched your heart no matter how heartless.

I refused to blink because if I did
I would miss a second of his gentle
fingers gliding across the maple fretboard.
And no sane person would want to miss that!

Strings danced back and forth as he played a chord.
Oh, his fingers grew sore, but calluses
helped desensitize them from aches and pain.

The instrument he mastered was waiting
to call him master cause’ guitars love how
he manipulates and makes them his slave.
Strings begged for his touch, for sounds they could make.

My eyes felt heavier than dense gym weights.
I mustn’t stop gazing if I want to
stay lost in heaven. So **** riveting!

“School is tomorrow.” “******, I forgot.”
“Give the phone back. Hmm, what are you watching?”
“Heaven.” “What did you say?” “I said heaven.”
Mom didn’t say anything afterward.

A few hours came, she asked for the phone.
I gave it to her, prepared my backpack.
Maybe in a different universe.
I would have proclaimed, “Don’t take the phone back.”

Sweltering insurgencies of electric power chords
Tribal reverberations of skin-stretched drum boards
Rolling and filling; syncopating the noise
Of the ***-less toys
The ****-less boys
Enraptured in the music
The anthem
Of invidious phantoms
My eyes hurt inside and
I want to pull them out and
Scrape out the gunk and rust
that’s behind my self-indulgent perseverance
so I can cry
for the first time in years…

Wrapping my hands around his slender torso
Licking away the paint, the dripping ooze; more so
Than hastening my ****** and mordant urges
To bite what emerges
And my mouth purges
The obelisk from underneath
The iron-pierced jester
The voracious molester
My hand tightens as I grip
his throat tighter and
I want to squeeze until his eyes pop
from his sockets and
laugh until I puke against the walls,
watching the ****** fluids mix
like an execrable marinara sauce…

I turned thirty while still being sixteen
The vivid beauty of the world was only in dreams
But none of mine, none that I can recall
Many years have passed since I took the oral fall
Where no one saw
Intransigent need to live
For the snake in my veins hungered for more
So many had their way
until I was limp and sore.
Defamatory fingers of mire and strife
Probing and stretching
My insides
And devilishly comforting
With limpid ambrosia
That’s infected by bilious worms and maggots covered in icing
And fruit

Amatory gauntlets fastened and secured over
Handless limbs that retract under matriculated frictions
That fracture, crack, morph, distort
Emphasize, marginalize
Rationalize, desensitize
Acts of *******, evasion, moral drainage;
Pieces, bits, chunks, sections, portions, servings;
Arms, legs, eyes, tongues, fingers, toes,
Love, lust, infatuation
Adoration
Boys, girls, women, men,
Angels, demons, monsters, humans
Creators, gods, titans, divas
All extended and limited from the minds that worship
Sanctify, mesmerize, glorify, rectify
While humans eat more, love more, **** more
Than the angels, demons, monsters, and titans
We ponder and cherish
Nevermore, for me
Ever lore, for all
Crows surround
And chaos found.

The phrase "collateral damage"
is used so not to cause offense
to desensitize the public
'bout the ****** of innocents

We're spoonfed daily numbers
of those who won't come back
but for innocent civilians killed
we dont bother keeping track

Because they're "collateral damage"
a nameless faceless entity
so easy to ignore
if they don't look like you and me

But when the shoe is on the other foot
and our innocents get killed
we put pictures in the papers
and monuments we build

Have we really sunk so far
as not to comprehend
that "collateral damage" means people,
and that war just has to end.

I love you's
Were for goodbyes
They were paired
With apologies
With excuses
With control
I love you's
Meant "I own you"
And now
They mean nothing to me
Unless they hurt

Thatcher vacuum seals nicotine
Slurps cigarette like mosquito
Ravenous lungs gnaw and grind for the slow pander,
Thatcher’s just another name for the labeling
We plaster and pine for an out,
Stitch that finite lie beneath squeamish child skin,
Thatcher’s the black lung paradise,
******* infancy coddling cigarette stifle,
The caloric crack of his canines fletching out lust and sickly groove
As he’s scopes out fiend and vexed vandals,
Clutches the sick theistic *******
Cuddle those bruise licked hips
Give God the gross percent,
Cause heaven’s in those greenbacks
and God’s in the ******* kick,
Suckling bout the American tip
The Christian capitol,
Seething on shadow puppet ****** and American dream,
Gods got nothing to do with the slickened crinkle of gain and glamour,
Thatcher’s just the candy man give and cult,
Cough the crutch of contagion greed
And clutch the cuff of your porcelain sleeve,
Thatcher gleans your blackest suite tight,
Struts raven blade shoulders perched on American made spine,
Thatcher does as Thatcher please,
Thatcher thinks as Thatcher bleeds,
And Thatcher bleeds venereal blend,
Gout with the American veneer of broken girl and scabbed moral traumatic,
Trauma tastes as the hollow pixies give out the get out,
Bandaged baby girls,
The teenage horror show,
Just another blazoned hit of one two take the hand me down generic give away,
Desensitize the humanize,
Girls got to get the days glossy puff and sniff,
Thatcher’s content to satisfy,
Callous coroner a spectator suckling Marlboro lick,
Lodging thick smoke and toxin between spittle slick lips,
Albino plumes clotting and unfolding,
Thatcher clicks back the cartridge
Filter and cigarette,
Thatcher gulps back the need because brain’s got a favoring kink for the buzz,
Thatcher sings with the screaming in his straggling lungs,
Hums the western creed
Laughs fickle with God at his need,
Thatcher’s the true American dream

What I fear most are not the things that go bump in the night.
The things that frighten me are often times things that at first you can not see.
These things that first start with someone elses thoughts can too often be turned into negative actions. What may start as a passitionate thought, or cause can too quickly turn into a distructive action. This is why I fear insensitivity, crude jokes, apathy.
Other things I fear are people that talk without thinking about what they are saying first, or how others might interpet what they are saying.
I fear selfishness which may lead to uncaring actions.
I fear crude jokes that do not respect ones fellow man or women, because it could subtlely desensitize ones perspection of those around them. They may get defensive and say it is just a joke.
The constant violent images on the news and on television, may further desensitize others to think that volence is normal or okay, or worse still that it is a normal part of life. It don't have to be perseived as normal we can chose to limit our own exposesure to violence on television. We can let others know that we don't condone violence, whether it is on television, or in reality, or in our own community.
I fear all these things that at first hide inside the deepest parts of someones mind, long before it is publically seen. This realization of this hidden darknes,makes me cry, or scream, if I thought about it all before going to bed. I would cover my head and sleep with the lights on, and every noice would make me jumpy.
This is why I fear the things that I can not see the most.

i know there have been moments where you pulled yourself down the stairs just to collapse onto the kitchen floor
i know there have been moments where you repeated,
"i will most certainly not make it out of this alive"
and you wake up the next morning and make it an inch further
my dear dramatic girl
there is no fault in loving with all of your heart
you will grow up and know what each word he presses to your chest means
you will have an Oxfords Dictionary for every time he tells you he was just out late
but if you keep putting pieces of you into everyone who runs their finger over your lips
or tells you "forever" as if it hasn't already lost its meaning
you will lose yourself
do not let the world desensitize you to its contents
theres nothing more tragic than watching a romantic become a cynic
you are full of a quality you cannot let every boy that stops loving you when it's convenient take from you
you are truthful and forgiving
you are trusting
and whats left of your heart is safety-pinned onto your sleeve
your heart belongs to you alone and i know its been a while since you heard this, but
you are full without people miles away telling you that they think you'd look pretty without your clothes on
dust it off,
lie on the kitchen floor and remember what it felt like when you said
"i will most certainly not make it out of this alive"
for when you wake up one morning and forget how it sounds
to be despondent in love
do not let the world take you and spread you over people who push you to fill pieces of them they have lost in others
you are prevailing every time you whisper
"i love you, too"

I'll take whatever comes my way.
No longer happy with myself.
Although you've taken my pride away.
I believe these drugs will help.
The devil's sitting on my shoulder.
Angel's nowhere in sight.
I pray that when I get much older, everything will come to light.
When it comes to the end of day.
My demons will come out to play.
What I thought was happiness isn't true.
Look at the stars, they shine for you.
The storm has come and I can't see them.
Don't want to be here, I'd rather be them.
Do you ever feel like your world's at end?
Desensitize my mind and all that is meant.
How can I believe that my heart is heaven sent?
Repeatedly convinced that I am not who I dreamt.
Wish I could see what I saw when I slept.
My heart in his palm, that he kept.
Optimus Prime on a pretty orange pill.
Swallow my pride and my body stands still.
Numbing every emotion that I could possibly feel.
Seems as if I don't know what's real.

To be abnormal in a normal world, is that so uncool? How about to be unjust in an unjust world? Surely then yes, for I am a fool. Not a fool so cruel, but a fool too cool to abide by societies rules. You see, it is the nature of man to be just as unjust as the unjust world, just as must as it is to be a fool, but not a foolish fool. Now you, you are a tool, for living the just life in an unjust world. You are the tool and I am the Utilitarian, and will use you to my advantage and private interests. That’s just how things go here in this structured place, meant to deface and interface yourself. Desensitize you to yourself; reduce yourself to a cheap exploitative commodity; a means for my planned robbery laid near a veneer of parliament armory. Society rules by the Golden Rule, and that is: Those with the gold are those who rule! Now who is the fool you tool?!

The American dream
Is a Bentley
With some shiny thing
Selfish arrogant human beings
Wanting more and more

While some places could use a doctor
Plumbing of any kind
Would be mighty fine
And something to eat
Well that’s like a treat

The American style
Has us throwing good clothes away
No need to save
Or share
No need to care
For someone else
Only numero uno matters

In other places races just wish
That the police would cut their ****
Stop pointing guns at them
And shooting their children
Or that local warlords
Would leave their children be
Democracy is just a pipe dream

The American way
Strives to separate us
In competitive groups
Desensitize us
And dehumanize the other

In other places people share
Out of love
What little they have
They are glad
To give to another
So who is civilized?

no where near the 24th hour even though
my hand shakes jittery. pen drawing right
to left, hand of the uncertain quivering.
i focus a bit too much and found this self set
unnerved after having been awake far longer
than i tend to make usual.
     (plenty are the unusual in this
          the current long dark)
so much longer than usual that i've resorted
to gin and orange juice, and it's been a long
while since such this encounter. perhaps
my rhythm is lost, perhaps this is my path in
life for the time being, perhaps eternity will
find me answered.
     (and in a new year the days
          grow longer once again)
and losing track of the hours, of the days,
when the greater portion of time is spent in
silence. but, in truth and whole, i never
failed to miss the unexpected moments that
interloped. and i rummage through the past
of yellowing notebooks - those coffee stained
and warped yet the words never bled. words
expressing thinking, drinking, and some
hazy hallucinations. of how a trio was
able to remove the world from me. and it was
fine. no real panic, deifiers only want to trim
a little fat. and these just happen to be my
scrawny days.
     (for the flesh lusteth against
                   the Spirit,
      and the Spirit again the flesh)
and it's awkward to attempt an explanation of
how i watch the static ripple across the ceiling.
after a few days, the eyes begin to desensitize
of the weather. after a few days, there is no
longer a sleep pattern; all that's left is to
become biphasic. and after these few days,
how is better to explain an inexpressible
than with words i don't quite understand?

These are the things that scare me most:
What I fear most are not the things that go bump in the night.
The things that frighten me are often times things that at first you can not see.
These things that first start with someone else thoughts can too often be turned into negative actions. These things can seemly spread faster than any virus,infecting the heart. What may start out as a passionate thought, or cause, can too quickly turn into a destructive action. This is why I fear insensitivity, crude jokes,  and apathy.
Other things I fear, are people that talk without thinking about what they are going to say first, or about how others might interpret what they are saying.
I fear selfishness, which may lead to uncaring actions.
I fear crude jokes that do not respect ones fellow man, or women, because it could subtly desensitize ones perception of those around them. They may get defensive and say it is just a joke.
The constant violent images on the news and on television, may further desensitize others to think that violence is normal or okay, or worse still, that it is a normal part of life. It don't have to be perceived as normal, we can chose to limit our own exposure to violence on television. We can let others know that we don't condone violence, whether it is on television, or in reality, or in our own community.
I fear all these things that at first hide inside the deepest darkest recesses of someones mind, long before it is publicly seen. This realization of this hidden darkness,makes me cry, or scream, if I thought about it all before going to bed. I would cover my head and sleep with the lights on, and every noise would make me jumpy.
This is why I fear those things that I can not see the most.

Strangers; estranged to eachother
desensitize the soul of another
judgement & diversification -
forefront of a bad implication
you feel - so taken out of context
then you hypothesize the mind of the next
& memorize those objectified persons
but realize; these are empty aversions..
for that stranger too - is similar to you
in a complex existence, lost in the blues
faces complications,
the same symptoms of life
same alterations
of both bliss, sadness & strife
though it seems you're the cynosure
& them; the background noise
though they say,"I'm the protagonist"-
& you're just a little voice
Every stranger, every soul of your life-
whatever role-
possesses a mind as intricate as yours
a life as labyrinthine -
although not shown.

Three words uttered
Soft yet bellow
I relinquish into your radiant smile and eye shine
You shout out so I follow you now
My love can’t suffice when I’m so cold and down

For the torture you put me through
What my heart had to go through just being around you
You get an eternity of my everlasting tortured soul

I remember back when I first met you and around the time I was really getting to know you
I thought then, these feelings are just gonna get stronger
Well and they did
And I warned you that you shouldn’t tease a leech like me unless you want me always hanging on
I’ve been waiting here what seems like forever, holding on for a “bi” potential breakthrough
But you held your ground, until this very day straight is what you still proclaim is true
But when I’m gone will you hold on and remember me through all the gifts, poems, and dedicated love songs
The anxiety you intensified,  I claim temporary insanity
Now I’m capable of doing anything
So now I’m coming back undead
Avenging my wounded soul
Taking back the disenchanted life I lead
Taking back the heart you stole

Are connection got a little deeper and I became opened but still we never got that far
Leaving me with apprehensive yet lecherous thoughts all through the nights
But this time around I won’t let the temporary insanity thing **** me now
I gotta find a way to desensitize somehow
Because I’m still feeling like how I felt when I was alive
And I know you and I would never be
So just my lonely, wounded, undead soul remains

And you said the most beautiful thing to me and it eased my pain, semi-healed my wounds
Sometimes it’s just the things you say to me, it was like you saw me, saw through to me
And I’m a sucker for you
And it’s okay that you’re mean to me
And it’s okay that you take advantage of my generosity
And it’s okay that you ignore me some days just as long as you see me when you’re finished going through whatever it was you were going through
And how this passion and love is my everlasting suicide
Because I needed to coincide with my desire to end my emotional pain that seemed to never end
And it wasn’t like some stunt for attention
Just an expression of extreme distress that needed to be addressed
But now coinciding and annihilating an undead soul might be so hard to do
Or maybe not because it’s no fun having these feelings for you
The anger and jealousy
It’s running through all over inside of me
Because I’m just so ******* empty
Sometimes in things I could just lose myself
Even lose myself deep within you
Especially when were connected, you're focused, aware, and for me so there
But just like that, you’re gone
And I have to move on
But not without the intensified anxiety and temporary insanity

I will avenge my soul with every ******* breath and word, a painful story will be told
I’m coming back undead
Avenging my wounded soul
Taking back the disenchanted life I lead
Taking back the heart you stole
This ditch you put me in
I don’t think was deep enough
Well I’m coming out right now
You’re running out of love for me
When I go I just hope you will remember me
Because living was the hardest part
But in the end our deep connection and everything else just falls apart
Oh, I just wanted to be with you
The ******* torture I put myself through
But when I go I just hope you will remember me
Because living was so hard to do
But even when I’m not here my soul would be there to be your savior
Because within our shortcoming my pilfered heart was indebted to you and so pure
When I go will you forget to remember me
I lost my fear of negligence which had caused me great sadness, loneliness, and tenseness
Because it’s so rare unconditional acceptance
And when more distressed I’m empty and depersonalized
Now suddenly realized, I just need to desensitize
Because no one ever sees the soul inside, always worried about the ******* outside
People could be so ******* materialized
But for our shortcoming, you saw through
So for that just know that no matter what, my soul will be with you
Will be with you

Remember when good prevailed
The hero always won & there were
Happy endings?
Well I guess that wasn't real enough
not alot has changed since gladiator days
The innocent are still sacrificed
Fed to the lions so to speak
Or since ***** and Gomorrah
Only difference is now it's televised
As though this entertainment is okay
To desensitize is the goal
And the result?
Children killing parents
Parents killing children
People without love

As I sit here in the dark,
It’s so silent…
But, at the same time, it really isn’t.

What exactly is silence when there is always n o i s e?
Of our minds
SCREAMING…yelling…constantly talking…
Verbally, mentally, and silently vocalizing the numerous, duplicitous details of our waking lives.

The mind never stops. Never shuts up.
And as much as I’d like it to, I can’t make it
As long as the body goes,
the mind reveals,
it revels, in the subconscious awareness of our obliviousness.

Is anything a surprise...
Or, do we always know?
But then again, what exactly is “knowing”?
When with one word, one action, one choice…
It can all be so different.
New. Changed. Non-existent.
And once again, we are left in the Unknown…(1 step forward – 2 steps backwards).
All the while, wandering ….wondering
Constantly searching for answers…
Seeking relief from the never ending “what ifs”,
the heart-piercing, perpetual mental lists of  “I should haves…”

There was a time when I questioned it all….
Repeatedly. Tortuously…to no avail it seemed
Until I somehow managed to create a world….
Founded on doubt, confusion, unfamiliarity, and F E A R.

It all began in my head. Simple enough..
That’s where it all begins, right?
This world throws all types of things at us to distract us…
To deceive us, to desensitize and dehumanize us.
To slowly, but surely, annihilate any bit of the God-given life that was once inside of us…
the original covenant of everlasting life, knowledge, and the desires of our heart.

Money.
Fame.
***.
Status.
Drugs.
Love.

It’s whatever is your particular fancy of ammunition…

You see, that’s the thing…
They let us choose.
….So we think..
Some call it Free Will, some call it Destiny…
or some simply call it, “Living Life”

They tell us we NEED this and we need to look like THAT.
So there we go, on a blind, circuitous pursuit to become something that never existed…
Til we are so completely absorbed in this twisted, delusional mirage of Life

… til it’s as if we, ourselves, never existed.
And the crazy thing is… some people never WAKE UP.

Yes, I said wake up.
As in realize that NONE of this is real.
Yet, it is merely the fictitious illustrations of the repetitious reels of our corrupted minds….
Our perverse and evil hearts.

which are both constantly evolving…steadily revolving.
Tainted by the high and forever-rising demands of this world…
Social media,
Music,
The arts.
Sports.
Friends….
and even family…

Little do we know, we are everyday loading the gun of “self-hatred”
….Filling it with little shiny bullets disguised as likes…views...followers.

Lighting the match and igniting the deadly and all consuming flames of “pride, bigotry, and greed”
Mine, mine, mine….
Destroying anything, or anybody, that tries to extinguish and destroy…

Holding, polishing, and aiming the two-edged knife of “insecurity, disloyalty, and ulterior motives.
Piercing the side of those we love.

When will this battle end?
When will the power of love, overcome the love of power?
They say that then we will know peace…
But to have peace, we have to have calamity…agitation…war.

Oh, the beauty of contradictions…

So far apart on the spectrum of life
Yet so strikingly similar.
Ying and Yang.

It’s a matter of life and death…
The absence of one creates the presence of the other.
and, the presence of the other, exemplifies the absence of the one.

And we know this…
Yet, we still choose to be destructive.
Why is it so much easier, seemingly, to do wrong than right?
Will the world ever know…?
So, with this paradoxical world we live in, how do we find stability?

Some find solace in drugs…
Some in love…
However, some find religion.
No scratch that – A RELATIONSHIP
…with a higher power …
One who is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent.
One who can guide our footsteps,
Eliminate all of the outside deceiving thoughts of “what if…” and “why’s”
“trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding…”
That’s what the Word says, right?

…one who can give us stability of our mind and the desires of our heart.
Jeremiah 33:3 says, “call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and mighty things you do not know”

Sounds too good to be true, huh?
But so does, relief and recovery sold to you in a pill bottle from an institution set up to control…
The populations and masses…
The circulation of currency.
The separation of powers.

So, at the end of the day….it’s up to you whether or not you continue sleeping..
Continue wandering
and wondering,
Continue living this deceptive life created and composed by Those People..

Or you can choose to believe…
To have faith in something, someone….
Whatever it may be…
But, the choice is on you.
…or is it?

dimmed in-candescent trails
streaming through thoughtlessness
grow old in cold knowledge
flutter and waste a shuttered taste
dreaming of wonder, lust
deeming trust a liars blunder

knowing only flowing undertow
bestow a bow upon the tower
lead the weak to seek another
pray for prey to bleed together

cower beneath the power, beseech
teach words that preach not leach
we'll reach the peak of leakage
peel back the streak of team credence

desensitize the lies and compromise
deny the times i tried to feel demise
your eyes guided me, blinded me
snatched vision from decision

pale walls involve crawling, sprawling
drawing proof to unroof this calling
pawning you to the coup of dawning
may we start again, this time, yawning?

The President will start a
nuclear war over twitter
  if he has to.

  White Nationalist is a way
of saying Neo-****. It's re-labeled
  to desensitize us.

  The President sympathizes with
the White Nationalists because
  he can't afford to lose their vote.
My president does not have my
  best interest in mind.
He is a power hungry tyrant--
  and half are too dumb to notice.

You don't worship God. You don't.
  You worship politics infused
with spirituality.
  You dehumanize those who
are different from you because
  you are a scared little *****.

All Nazis must die.
Them dying is the
greater good.
Nazis are inferior.
Die ****. Die.

I've been eating zebra cakes. Partly for the taste [creamed-up skies, maybe a swan or two reflected in a lake] but also for the animal on the package with his confetti and rainbowed smiles. Four days till Good Friday, lord.

In eveningtime, I sit inside myself and bang on the cockleshell walls with my ribs. Given time, the vibrations start to numb-up the cells of my nerves and lose effect -anyways. Sleep is with a machine who touches me through perfectly oiled axles and aching laughters. He doesn't hear me when i tell him I don't want his incisions and leaves knives by my bed to desensitize any qualms.

Last weekend, I didn't go home with the pineapple boys. I climbed through arms and fingers and faces, but my lover (machine) had since ascended - I kept asking which of the walls i could follow to find him, but They laughed and told me i was blind.

A broken maze hides inside my mind;
Revelers rambling round never find
The end - lacking signposts or guides,
They tread eternities while the exit hides

From echoing clatter to blinding roar,
From gentle pitter-patter to take no more,
Crowds mill through in groups and pairs;
The walls vibrate, as do I downstairs

Food trucks ply their bountiful snacks
Feeding frenzy, launching scent attacks;
The noxious steam combines to rise,
Waft out, confound and desensitize

Enclosed in walls impossible to climb
Trapped all together in layered time
The revelers begin to sway and swerve
Blundering on networks of frayed nerve

With no path to success or even escape
The horde begins to push and scrape
The walls - tremble, creak, quiver, quake;
The maze, my mind, my universe - break

NCL August 2019

Who have we become?
You rather record a video
as you watch as I drown!  

What morals do we uphold?
Babies in concentration camps,
The government doesn’t call them that..,
The refugees have no refuge
We refute their rights.
The existence of the indigent
causes an uproar, shelters
can only be housed in poverty
stricken zones plagued
with crimes. On 57th Street
people work too hard, the homeless
will depreciate the value of their skyscrapers
the sight out the window
Will be too dark.
And we depreciate life.

Who have we become?
Who do we care for?
Teenager years are now
forgone, cops shoot children
but keep their jobs.
Cops are scared and shoot too fast.

Priests **** boys but that’s fine
the churches are filled on Sundays
because, they still are the intercessors
between Men and God.  So we have
a faithless generation that doesn’t
value life, they are desensitize,
let’s blame it on Hip-Hop,
yet, if you are not vanilla
your pride melts on sidewalks
and the sprinkles that were on
your chocolate are splattered
in concrete floors.


Who have we become,
Our cellphones are a weapons
Of mass destruction, that
that causes sleepless nights,
We rather record a shooting
than call 9-11.
We rather say “not my problem”
I’ll keep going my Merry way,
but Maria lost her son
because no one cared.

The animals are caged
with freedom they become enraged,
trying to find their way
YouTube becomes their only friend,
because in the sandbox of life they cannot play.

Who have we become?
The real criminals, work at the White house.
A suicide letter doesn’t alarm.
The alarm doesn’t sound off,
the notifications alert is off
While this video…I RECORD

This is the path of the walking dead,
that human connection
we traded for Facebook likes;
So **** happens all around us,
and they only way we think to help
is by pressing the recording button
that lets the world know, I was there.


LeydisProse
6/22/2018
https://m.facebook.com/LeydisProse//

Why does the world conspire against the eccentric?
Unique is wrong, creativity ostracized.
Numb, blind, masses choose to remain.
Being true to oneself, criminalized.
Like candles whiffed one by one, extraordinary is now a scarcity.
Aristocracy calls for the illiterate, not the enlightened.
We’re surrounded by advancements that dull our minds.
When will we realize, herded we are?
When will we realize, we are assumed usufruct by the elite?
Common folk desensitize incessantly at death’s door.
Robbed of creative thought and ingenuity.
Tolerate, embrace, assimilate, so it seems.
Breaking status-quo is just vagrancy.

Four hundred words.

An army equipped for battle.

An arsenal fit for war.

But alas,

That is not what the power of words is for.

Confusion and mayhem are the devil's doing,

The same are the Lord's eschewing.

Yet, for what cause are we using?

As words broil above the bent brow,

An acrid substance is sent down

And spewed from the mouth to destroy.


To destroy.

To destroy.


If words could sprout wings

Would a dove soar from your garden,

Or would a dragon roar from your dark den?

Words could set free, if you hearken;

But would you condemn men, or give pardon?

And if you doubt the depth of this which I write,

Recall the tale of Edmond Dantès' plight.

If you knew words could mold hearts like clay...

What would you say?

Your words can frame a day;

To deplore

Or to enjoy.


To enjoy.


So rare, yet so common.

No other creature on Earth wields words,

While we waste so many so often.

We become hardened,

While our mental fortitude is softened

To the likes of cotton.

Feeding from the bottom,

Surfeiting on forbidden fruit gone rotten.

In a radioactive wasteland

Where toxins blossom.

We harvest poison petals to season food that tastes bland.

With withering, quivering, hand

We feed our neighbor.

We don't sense the flavor,

But still savor.

A cyclical process,

Implementing the secret of conquest:

To desensitize.

Because, all the while, we do not realize

We are blindfolded.


Blindfolded.

Blindfolded.


A spring spouting tainted waters

Sits amidst our town.

We gather around

And guzzle pounds

Till we nearly drown.

You can hear the sound

Of the concoction roiling

In the aching bellies

As people lay sprawled and toiling.

Survive today,

You may.

And thrive nevermore.


Thrive nevermore.

Nevermore.


Begin again,

My friend.

Examine your quiver,

Is your bow for a hero

Or for a killer?

I beseech you,

Enter the palace

And drink of the chalice.

Learn to live in a world

Of goodness and balance.

And forget not,

A word spoken

Set the worlds in motion.

Do you still doubt the power of words?

Whence come your society's norms?

Or know you not how created things gained their forms? ...

If you persist to deny,

If you refuse to be swayed

About the power of words

You will yet believe,

When you've felt its blade.


When you've felt its blade.

Its blade.

but mostly
what makes my mind
veer off track at night
is the fear of you changing
leaving me
dried up mud
crumbling in the cracks
of your sneakers.
i’m so very frightened
of the day
i am no longer enough.


and that’s what f-cking ***** right now.


because I’ve always tried
to push fear back down my throat
like sour bile
in a mini puke.
i’ve always wanted
to desensitize myself
because EMOTION
IS A SYMPTOM
OF WEAKNESS.
And so i’ve aspired
to be quartz
with cracks that don’t break open.


but i’m just here.

i'm watercolor floral patterns
on chipped porcelain.
and there is nothing i can do
to exist more unflinchingly

a product of human error
just like all the rest
tugged along by oxytocin handcuffs
a slave to serotonin
a slave to that which makes me feel.

and it frustrates me that I can be so pathetically human.
and I am grinding my teeth  
with each word of this
cliché.
idiotic.
diluted.
love poem.
i am trembling with the injustice
i am shaking with the question:
why can’t i be the exception?
why can't i be charcoal?
In the herd of sheep
too caught up
in being loved
to save themselves
from being left.

She Fell Into The Abyss

he takes to the tunnel of night
dark at first, but he tiptoes in
and sees the light
he follows a trail
a women's scent that arouses him
he sees her across the bar
seated by herself
hunger on her face
a wallflower
a sheep in a lea to him
weak and pull-able of wool
and he needs wool
a ball of yarn to desensitize
and spins to his satisfaction
and he needs to be sated
... especially
with this ones youth and innocence
her striking blue eyes
and sweet mouth
indifferent to him
but it's her pond of ducks that excites ... him
hidden in his pocket
is a knife of fantasy
a blade of deceit
rope of words to incapacitate
... then
he looks into her blues
as he begins making his move
sweet talking, sweet talking
her socks off
he keeps seeing the ducks in the pond
swimming faster and faster
his heart beating faster and faster
a fruit ripening before his eyes
ready to be eaten
he takes the first dagger from his pocket
two white pills and slips into her drink
laughs to himself
at least this dagger won't hurt
as he chokes on his sadism
she falls into her arms
asleep
so soft and vulnerable
unsuspecting and naive
she walks out with him in slumber
later that night
a shotgun blasts breaks the air
ducks flapping in the night
then ... silence

Logan Robertson

2/18/21