Despicability is the foundation to their life
For them it is intrinsic
Genetically encoded
Simplistic
Poetically eroded
Reprehensible at best

     Unscrupulously callous
     Secrets and facts, they conveniently
     ingest
     Distorted byproducts, they release to the
     masses
     To aid their campaign; a forked tongue
     fest

Pathetic and unapologetic
A beast armed to the teeth
Imported bypasses to increase the flow of police
A weakness and an act,
They so vehemently attest

     Harvesting greens off the branches of
     the people
     Pockets engorged with wads and folds
     Crushing blue collars at the lower levels
     As they sit atop their pyramids of gold

Today they sip champagne
To celebrate their reign
Tonight we'll skip being humane
To feed them excruciating pain

     You've incited this coup with ill-thought
     deterrents
     Now herald the arrival of the scourge
     Down with lopsided governments
     Tonight... All we would topple! Tonight we purge!

Justin G
ryn

oh right... i thought i was on a ****** nod for a minute,
what, a, blank...

she thought i looked like Jim Morrison when met,
i worked out, played squash,
a really healthy example of zoology -
is that, the logic of caged animals?
a bit like the logic of soulless animals
with a god, soulless animals without one,
and the other two 90° variations of the square?
they're inspereble (blah) / momentary
dyslexia, naturally with English - inseparable,
pairing, ah! but isn't much of modern
psychology a bit like zoology? i mean the cages,
the untested theories, stemming from
roots of Jungian and Freudian *******?
Edward Hopper sketched himself with the joke
on visual inferences from these two
molesters of fair game - Michael Myers
just walked in and smashed their heads in...
win win scenario... but psychology is very
much like zoology - keeping a caged animal,
reverse baby onomatopoeia from what the adults
equate mama with... ego... that's their childishness,
babies say *mama adults say ego,
as if no dead Latin bureaucrat is listening
with a chisel in hand to double-fold missing
the concept of handwriting - it wasn't alive
back when it was all on papyrus, or stone,
it had a brief existence in aristocratic circles
when we wrote with quills and connected pretty well,
we soared with geese! we soared with swans!
we perched on trees like jerky crows!
god, it was beautiful, but then digital came in,
newspaper print, we felt claustrophobic connecting
letters, like jigsaw puzzles put together
some things didn't connect - unless it was a case
of a familial affair, ******, less game of hide & seek
and more a game of lookalike...
we even had perfumed paper back then...
right now you read a newspaper for too long
and you're ready to stamp your fingerprint in a police
station... and i thought money was *****,
newspapers are second-best... ***** currency of
the omni-literate populace - starving journalists
who parasitically feed of of celeb culture,
provided with excess stimulation by paparazzi
nudes... but zoology and psychology are alike,
cages in both cases, restrictions: either no god
or no soul, either some body or nobody -
trained cognitive monkey... does a fanciful trick
sometimes: yep, gets up onto a table in a nightclub
and does a cancan interpretation of the goose step
(stechschritt - all those in favour of the ministry
of simply silly get drowned in the Thames)
as if jogging on a treadmill, in one place -
the mantis in a game of chess - the mantis in a game of chess -
a game kings believed having the earliest known
satellite image from way way above - the best
way of looking at the abstraction of insects.
still, zoology is very much psychology, or vice versa,
cages and prior theories with their guillotines of
Aztec like sacrifice - i told you! those pyramids were
built for capital punishment, excess on architectural side
of what a scaffold could look like, fear inducers,
deterrents, but at least not Egyptian tombs!
and how many bars in this cage of yours can you can
with psychology: the logic of having soul, in practice
the logic of not having a soul, i.e. treatment of thinking -
the behavioural study of a man sitting in silence -
after an hour he folds a leg over the other and continues
sitting in silence - psst... it's called listening therapy...
or talk... 3 hours pass some rain falls... neither patient
or the psychiatrists is any wiser... but the latter gets paid,
the former just looks like a **** clown without makeup.
so she hooked up and wanted to start a band...
she had keyboards in mind... that was already a bad idea...
she thought i was some sort of version of Jim Morrison...
well, if i was, or if i am... i'm doing this thing solo.

When life becomes meaningless
no matter what you do seems useless
and all opportunities you grab wasted
broken dreams lurking with self busted
everything you hold on now starts to fall
drags your feeling pushed against the wall
realization of your life is at the cutting edge.

When life becomes the darkest
no hope of light made you weakest
things you touched soon are dead
failure always cling to you instead
you try to survive from uncertainties
yet your ego succumbs to all the vanities
Doubt overcomes self falling to the cutting edge.

Though life becomes vague
Do not give up to fight the plague
For quitters do not win any endeavor
Hang-on lit the ember to light you with fervor
For as long as you have the courage to go forward
Then no amount of deterrents can make you a coward
And in the end you will be able to override the cutting edge.

Equally at home in the streets and just as gifted in a suit with a delicately done press.
the smooth operator Is one of the most dangerous creatures we've yet encountered
They're found everywhere, coast to coast, from NY To Chicago, also spotted up north in Canada and down south in Key Largo.

The smooth operator is equipped for any encounter with eyes that pierce deep into the soul and can approach anybody with a confidence level unrivalled by none but their own kind.
There is only one, Nay Two known deterrents of the smooth operator, either a pathetic Roger Rabbit like nerd, or a spilled drink.

careful out there ladies. it's a jungle.

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the coop
Not a creature was stirring, because of the chicken ****.
The scratch grains were flung on the floor with great care,
In hopes that soon they would eat some better fare.

The chickens were nestled all snug in their nest,
While they pondered which worms tasted the best.
With their mom in some soup, and dad lunch meat,
Their high tech coop simply couldn't be beat.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from the perch to see what was the matter.
Away to the window, they flew like a flash,
Peering through the pane as they heard another smash.

The LED spotlights on the coop outside,
Gave a midday luster to make it hard to hide.
When what to their wondering eyes they all saw,
But imprints in the snow of a large predator's paw.

With other tracks spotted, they all took a vote,
Then they knew in a moment it must be a Coyote.
More rapid than eagles his cousins they came,
And he howled, and yodeled, and called them by name!

"Now Coy-dasher! now, Coy-dancer! now, Coy-prancer and Coy-*****!
On, Coy-comet! On, Coy-cupid! on Coy-donner and Coy-blitzen!
To the top of the coop! To the top of the fence!
A fresh chicken meal! We will soon dispense!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the coop-top the cousins they flew,
With snarling teeth, for some "chicken stew".

And then, in a twinkling, the hens heard on the roof
Much prancing and pawing and it was no spoof.
And I as the "farmer" now checked my phone,
Because an SMS text made the situation known.

The varmints were dressed in fur, some mangy in spots,
I knew that soon they would be having second thoughts.
Wiring, and controls that a coyote can't hack,
Made a pest-proof coop, impervious to attack.

Their eyes-how they twinkled! The electric fence made a flurry!
The predator deterrents had reacted in a hurry!
Their growling mouths now drew up like a little bow,
As their fur turned white from the highly conductive snow.

The stump in the yard was an early warning device,
To detect all the varmints that the fowl would entice .
Sound masking systems had been activated too,
As well as an outdoor alert lamp which flashed red and blue.

The Alpha coyote was chubby and plump, like a jolly old elf,
Or rather an elf who had inadvertently electrocuted himself!
with glazed over eyes and a writhing head,
Soon gave me to know the fowl had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, and abandoned his work,
With an unfilled stomach, he turned with a ****.
spotting me now outside, he immediately stood still,
Then the crack of my .22, and the echo from the hill.

He sprang to the ground, to his team gave a howl,
And away they all ran away with no taste for fowl.
And I heard the rooster, as they ran out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

DEC 2014 by Kirke Wise

The United States of America has never been a democracy. Our Constitution, drafted and ratified in 1787, legalized slavery in all 13 nascent States. Eight of our presidents were slaveholders, including George Washington and Thomas Jefferson, who owned more the 600 slaves. Though the 13th Amendment legally abolished slavery in 1865, the KKK , founded also in 1865, began to flourish in the Deep South when U. S. troops were recalled in 1877. White Supremacists used a vicious range of deterrents to keep Blacks from voting:  Deep South State constitutions and laws;  poll taxes;  literacy tests;  the "grandfather clause";  and outright intimidation, including lynchings that occurred at their peak from 1890 to 1920. Today, Trump supporters have swept through almost all State legislatures "legalizing" myriad ways to keep minorities from voting, as well as other ways to invalidate their votes. In addition to brutalizing Blacks throughout our nation's history, we must not forget the genocide perpetrated by our government against indigenous peoples who had populated the continent for millennia, culminating between 1860 and 1890 with the coup de grace of Wounded Knee. "Manifest Destiny" was not democracy. It was manifest inhumanity.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

I was a fire,
burning,
crackling,
bursting.
Many have tried
to effuse
my vitriolic flames.
But I was too strong,
too powerful
for their deterrents.
I could've take on anything
everything.
I'd burn,
scar people,
just so that they'd remember
who I am.
Strong,
independent,
ultimate,
indestructable.
But then,
in a moment of weakness,
I was extinguished
into nothing
but a pile of ashes.
A stolen soul.
A broken heart.
And all it took
was a missive.

It was then
that I realized,
I'm not the fire.
The true bearer of this flame.
The fire was from
the one person
that I respected
that I trusted
that I loved.
They fueled me.
And they
were the one
that killed me,
that left me dry
with just the words
"Good-bye."

All your bills are paid as long as you play the game, and let the A.I. stay in your lane for you, as automated servitude serves the servants every hue of desire and need.

Its paradise without the dice, don't need advice when the pie is already sliced, and colored to supply, every kind of mind, and the likes of every combination of rhymes, that are randomised to the lines, replaced by lit strips along the street, that lead the way to work while you sleep, so that you can dream and think, of a paradise, while it works, builds and breathes, toxicity healthily, while growing, and knowing everything, never needing to think.

The machines know what needs transposed, and does exactly what needs to be, always noticing every thing, but not everyone, so automated guns watch over every single street, and when anyone runs, they have defied the trust, and are reduced to dust, that is swept up, by an automated gust from the gutters hustle to keep it clean, so that you may live the dream, alone and weakening, giving way to the machines.

Paradise is coming, and its kills are clean, closing your eyes to sing of singing, as its listening, while skimming for key words, to feed better blurbs to blur the misfocused notions, motioned, for deterrents in the currents of controlled life flows, what you have, see, and who you know, proposed, in your allowed hold, on reality.

It is a tragedy to differ from the rigor of your script, if you wish to make it, relax and take it, just submit to the beautiful concepts elected, to check your veer from the path and steer you back to paradise, as its coming fast, and may pass you by, with the initial blast.

Hear the voice of the speaker
Does it sound like a drover
Be ready to out-manoeuvre
And join the out-sider
A lot of lesson’s learner
Do you have an honest teacher?
Deterrents handed down from nurturer
Knowledge taught by academic master
As a youth thats your understructure
Additional conversations provide an idea
Helps construct a future vision
As we ‘re living dreams of ancestry’s generation
Of accomplished objectives and vocation
We are evolutionary foundation from inspiration

.

To what do we owe
this canvas knapsack of fears
draped heavily upon our back,
bringing shoulders to a tipping point
Weighted of decisions to be made and
thoughts which haunt when we are alone

Straps cut into tender flesh,
scars build where smooth skin once slept
now bedded down by burdens
in an uncomforting fabric,
warm but dark and painful
as nighttime brings a solitude of tears

Wishes find four wall deterrents,
though from a southern facing window
a light penetrates the anguished fog,
illuminating this room of desperation,
inviting glances to find
that of which smiles are born

Now as we find our hearts migrating
past curtained weeping patterns,
reaching for the glowing affection
whispering on blissful breezes,
soothing longings of safe arms
to hold us in this time of need

Run with every speed to this view,
calling of moonbeams and star dust
careful not to trip over the worries
cast aside to the floor beneath your bed
where they shall remain hidden
behind a door now locked by love

To what do we owe
this canvas knapsack of fears?
Only ourselves if we continue
to look behind at what was instead of
casting our eyes forward on what is now offered
just outside that southern facing window of opportunity

i woke up today and couldn't fathom current
affairs in any other way...
             the rebirth of israel...
                      hawk pantos that's america (*** note,
hannibal would apply the death penalty
if i was playing the trombone, or something
akin to it... tearing my hearing to shreds and
subsequently infuriating me)...
            but my tongue is a very debasing
instrument to come to grips with...
                      it's the internet and the narrative
in the west...
                        i was just listening to a nationalist
greg johnson... and let's face it:
how did nationalism become so reasonable?
        or what do you say to nationalists who
have to face up to darwinistic populists that are
secretly communist?
                        i find darwinism not so much a case
against god, but against the left...
                    maybe i'm seeing double or something...
anyway... if i was writing this in central europe ("east"
europe... left right of centre argument?
  copernicus didn't really improve our map-reading
skills... more people find the edge of a cliff
or a sea than... the ******* x: that marks the spot)...
           so we're supposed to be objective,
        and by object i mean an ethnic context:
     which bites back at what those who argue against
subjectivity have: how am i to suddenly turn into shadow
of some obscene universalism?
       well, judging by the content i'm being "prescribed"
(just listening to), and given darwinism, when doesn't
brutality (at least intellectual) come into the fore?
           arguments in a graveyard phase?
                                     epitaph managment?
but since i'm writing this in england, and seeing what's
unfolding, or what's already too late to comment on
as it already has...
    politico-ethnicity speaking? as an anglo-slav?
        there is a dual deterrent in "certain" parts of central
europe... some say the weather, some say:
  the people who inherited the remnants of national
socialism's nadir... we know national socialism's
zenith was the autobahn... so if the british proclaim
pride at the railway network, the germans can't
proclaim a pride in the autobahn network?
                     well... if you've ever been in the central
of warsaw during the winter, you know climate is a natural
deterrant to what the problems in western europe
are spoken about...
                        giving the current climate of politics,
i can't say that sites such as auschwitz are also deterrents...
    i'm guessing people over there (as earth to earthenware
be spoken) - perhaps half-jokingly:
                                        you want us to fire up
the furnaces? no, but the Ełk example...
                         do i really have to state that darwinism is
an ideology in direct confrontation with marxism?
                 i hear things like cultural marxism...
        but what the west has started to export is
                                                 cultural darwinism...
it's a seesaw effect, a stick has two ends...
                                           i don't even know how to
begin entertaining the effects of cultural darwinism,
unless of course there's overt psychologism
                              and too many explanations and
very little action: it's like this ******, completely ******
off his face on l.s.d. looking at a painting saying:
    oh, isn't that nice?
                                    cultural darwinism is real,
and it lies opposite cultural marxism; i really don't know
how it happened, by darwinism is political these days
(as it always was, with the monkey trial...
  but then that was in the realm of law, rather than politico
blah blah)... in that sense it has become almost ineffective
in convincing people anew, afresh, precisely because
it has turned from a very beautiful theory,
                     into the harsh reality of indoctrination;
i really hid that part where i mentioned auschwitz as
a deterrent to the migrant problem, didn't i?
                  i'll write a bit more and it will truly be well
hidden... o fortuna... und die shattenvolk:
                      it's not even a belief, you just read western
media, and it's as if poland was one defended by
western europe, by not receiving pointless coverage;
       within reasonable constraints, this new alliance
within the european union?
                           i'm thinking whether it's real or not;
never mind... i'm still to depict su doku tactics
            and actually finish a puzzle that i ensured
could be turned into ideograms... which by japanese
standards of complexity, would be treated
   as if neanderthal... all we have in terms of complexity
is volume... since almost anyone can and anyone
has learned english... it's naked... ****-naked adam,
the oddball of all other european languages...
             primarily due to a lack of unitary distinctions...
and this point has to be repeated repeated re-.

Long ago, in a time that seems so far away
Doesn’t that sound so much like a cliché?
A time before grown up became a word
When a day lasted forever, isn’t that absurd?
Wishes you made on a shooting star came true
Really? What other lies were told to you?
A four-leaf clover brings good luck,
There is gold at rainbows end. But, all you find is muck.

A time so far away was my childhood
I wish I had known, wish I had understood
That a day is not forever, they pass in a blink
Each day creating another memory in the chain link.
I am grown now and I have seen the shooting star.
I haven’t made a wish on this fiery rock from afar
It wouldn’t hear me as it travels the sky
Heading to earth on its final death cry.

It has filled the news these last few weeks
Nothing to be done, no deterrents to seek.
The world leaders have head for cover
Hoping they will be able survive once it’s over.
People look to each of their religions
Hoping for some divine interventions.
But some have decided the best way to cope
Is to steal a new television, a stereo, some dope.
They scream and rage against what is to be
Fighting in the streets in their fearful agony.

Two days to go and I have a spot picked.
I have a list, all boxes ticked.
Music, wine and a blanket to rest
For my faithful doggy companion on this quest
In the forest of my childhood play
I will find the mossy grave where I will finally lay.
To smell the earth and hear the birds last song.
Knowing all to soon it will be forever gone.

In a time so far away.

Verse 1

Like a hummingbird with wings to fly, emerging forward towards the sky

Ever receptive to the dream, for all that you’ve witnessed or ever seen

Release and so defy, no greater time to try, just hold on, trust and so rely

Much higher than the fall, it’s time to give your all

To the promises you’re believing for



Chorus

I believe you will receive, the blessings, its free

I am sure, you’re truly called, to the victory, that is yours

It’s time to soar



Verse 2

With an open mind, steered to drive, follow through to the road, you will arrive

Operate the gear, embrace the view, I believe in this, I believe in you

Release hold off the break, it’s time to operate, keep going, there’s just no time to wait

Your view is crystal clear, it’s that special time, it’s your moment

The promises are near



Chorus



Bridge

Spread your wings, at the edge to take the flight

Look beyond, deterrents in your sight

To succeed, turn wrongness into right

Travel through to greater heights



Chorus



Written by Geraldine Taylor ©

you can really only begin critiquing a movie, beginning with the soundtrack, and, my my, wasn't T2 such a pleasurable follow-up.

you ever noticed how you can't look
at a moon, cross-eyed,
   with only one eye?
      a debilitatingly obvious fact,
when i started integrating into english
society, i said to myself:
make sure you know the sewers of
this city of tongue,
make sure you know every nook &
cranny, make sure you can speak
the native, better than the natives...
i think i did a fair good job,
   after all, english speakers think that
english is a difficult language to learn,
not to a bright-spark aged 8,
this other italian kid, fat as a doughnut
didn't bite into the tongue as rapaciously
as i did...
              and so it went:
synthesise the acquired for about 20 years,
and then analyse it later...
       my my, what a kinder surprise it
ended up becoming!
     but have you ever gazed at the moon
cross-eyed? suddenly you become
no more the *polyphemus...
  you start looking at the moon cross-eyed
and suddenly two moons appear,
  the optical lambda stops working,
             what once was Λ, become a V -
      and you really get to see the world
of polyophemus' father: poseidon,
   because everything almost looks submerged
under water...
                              V
                        ­      Λ       two in 'ere,
two up 'er,
                           almost like the sunset on
tatooine...
          and always that persistent guilt over
"ooh the bad n- word",
      oh sure, besides the fact that i befriended
a 60+ year old ghanian grandfather in
the off-lice, once upon a pumpkin-carriage
tale time ago, and i always end the conversation
by a handshake that involves to of mine
and only one of his...
        so i feel this much . of "despair" /
                      "responsibility" when using
a toothbrush... *****, i ain't got beef,
but cut some slack on the shifty every changing
nature of urban slang,
     ***** might just mean: a shady individual,
and if i can't say nigh-jer (niger),
what am i going to replace it with, nigel?!
        if that's offensive, then i think we really
did a pish-poor job at slaughtering each other
or making ***** films...
     obviously we need to crank up the heat...
tell you what...
   you know what the "holy roman empire"
shifted a tad bit to the east,
and involves poland, former czechoslovakia
and hungary?
             first of all, the languages are a bit hard...
and not everyone speaks english
like they do in the benelux or scandinavia,
that's for starters, but the poles received two
great gifts from the german people,
first the marienburg castle given to us by
the teutonic crusaders of the north,
and second of all...
  auschwitz-birkenau, majdanek, auschwitz zwei
(they're intact, and can be quiet easily
reponened)...
i can't even believe i managed to translate
english black humour...
    i thought some things were never
possible...
     william burroughs in his book
    the cat inside talks about the SS training...
the initiation into the upper ranks of
the SS was to gouge out the eyes of a pet
cat after feeding & cuddling the cat for a month...
to eliminate the pity-poison and mould
the complete übermensch...
  then he goes on to say how he would never
hurt a cat...
               these sort of people,
the ones that value animal life over human
life can actually become the foremost conscripts...
with my ginger quarus?
  that ******* annoying luciano paravortti?
that qat qaeda who ***** in peoples beds
and deserves a smack?
            give me half an hour,
a bottle of *** and i'll tell you once the time is
done...
      but you see... the german have
actually provided gifts...
  these sites are deterrents...
   and if you travel to warsaw in december,
and land there, and walk outside the airport...
you might as well fall it scythia...
           feral lands, i know i've said this before,
but i've just been rewatching commentary
videos from 2015 / 6 events...
      i've stopped identifying the reality of:
it's only real when i've encountered it,
and: it's just a media coverage when it hasn't
happened to me...
             and sometimes i just end up
drinking and writing something:
completely mediocre, since i know it's
provoking some sort of hornets' nest of emotion,
and that the only redeeming part of this
exhausting effort (due to its mundane
subject matter) is the optical diamond -
for the most part, we peer into the world
with two eyes that are so calibrated to be effectively
synchronised, convergent,
     looking at the convergence point,
clearly indicates that when converging,
   the eyes diverge, and are actually parallel...
i have absolutely no idea how
   this happens, the whole: looks upright
but then translate to the brain is actually
upside-down is one thing, but that's the vertical
aspect, i mean the horizontal explanation
of the eyes... how, even though they are
placed at a parallel, they actually manage to
converge, whereby polyphemus' one
is as good as our two...
                i don't have the resources to explore
of given an answer in concreto,
                     just one guy,
having a drink, looking at the moon,
                                                   cross-eyed.

When life becomes meaningless
no matter what you do seem useless
and all opportunities you grab wasted
broken dreams lurking with self busted
everything you hold on now starts to fall
drags you feel pushed against the wall
realization of life is at the cutting edge.

When life becomes the darkest
no hope of light makes you weakest
and things you touch soon are dead
failure always cling to you instead
you try to survive from uncertainties
yet your ego succumbs to all the vanities
Doubt overcomes self to feel the cutting edge.

Though life becomes vague
Do not give up to fight the plague
For quitters do not win any endeavor
Hang on lit the ember to light you with fervor
For as long as you have the courage to go forward
Then no amount of deterrents can make you a coward
And in the end you will be able to override the cutting edge.

violent britain 23.07.18

looking at the picture
can we point the finger
at society we have a severe fracture
crime will rise as mr bad guy dose finger.
all factors will chill
parents authority even rhythm
just got to turn down the drill
highlighted with a sarcastic criticism.
not long ago all fine
the news went down a treat
put constables all online
not one old bill on beat.
is it to do with equality
going to be a snitch
writing poetry like one is royalty
the ones that don't have are not rich.
deterrents are less then mild
this to cycle is not sweetening
can not comment on beating of child
still getting over the cain and beating.

Your hair’s a mess
And your eyes are squinty
And your curves come only from your lips
But that’s okay
Because I love it
You see them as
Deterrents
But I know
That every part of your body
Deserves kisses
To know that they are loved
Because where you see frizz
I see time spent learning
So I can help you tame
The physical representation
Of your spirit
Uncontrollable and free
And where you see squinty
I see eyes that are
Smooth and perfect
for me to paint in eyeliner
And where you see curveless
I see a body perfect to
Snuggle small enough
To envelop completely
In my arms
So no you’re not
Perfect
But boring is boring
And you’re anything but

Seeking authenticity
But now the counterfeit
Becomes our best fit
Outlasting all the victims
Of false love, false futures
Deterrents do discourage
Blocking barricades
Hindering the growth
We thought was right
Until we were wrong
Powerful communication
Top tyranny, bottom bureaucracy
The substitute remains the same
But no one will ever know