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"doublespeak" poems
forced to ask 'is it all bullshit' this field of study just completed this path now flying feet fleet'd I, alumni all outwardly faux alacrity but instead really inside shades drawn hiding shame useless waiting for the sun's forebearant rays to pull dead drunk me off floor again still sick sinning spinning lies on nodal web patterns of activation just a narcissist sociopath-in-training (was I?) being taught how better to manipulate other's fate for personal gain great fat magnificent magnanimous beast loafing on liar's chair o'great victory-defeat doublespeak tho Orwell is long dead and we do mourn him so with eulogy eyes that weep crocodile tears of well hidden liars having long forgotten how to believe in anything aside from own ill-gotten gains, they mean nothing more than bloodstained verses anemic murmurs whispered great whisky hopes and sallow cheeked dreams
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Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 11:04 AM UTC
eulogy eyes
THEY will have the final word. Believe what the PARTY says is true. Even Facecrime gives you away, For BIG BROTHER is watching you. Honesty? Bah, such nonsense! Loyalty is what must sell. State-spread rumors incite the mob In your bleak, dystopian hell. Reject evidence of eyes and ears. That's what THEY say. Watch how hate Turns the unquestioning supporter Against the enemies of the state. The Goodthinkful, unaware How language affects their thoughts and behavior, Show how ignorance is strength And lavish praise upon their savior. Manipulating public opinion, THEY know well-spread lies will last, For that's how THEY'LL control the future, And that's how THEY control the past. Doublethink is what THEY call it: The clever art of reality control. Ignorance is strength, THEY tell you. Controlled insanity is THEIR goal. The more powerful THEY become, The less THEY prove to be your friend. It's NOT about what's good for the people. Power is NOT a means but an end. War is declared on language and memory. Inconvenient facts are rejected. Science is reviled, and THEY Discredit people once respected. Doublespeak narrows the range of thought. By caving in you might survive. Two and two make four, but sometimes THEY'LL say that two and two make five. Opinions are not tolerated. Protective stupidity: that's THEIR plan. You think THEY can't control your thoughts, But, oh, THEY can. THEY really can. Do you look at your screen, or does Your screen look at you? Or Both? Do you know how much THEY know Or if THEY know you've kept your oath? Who's the next to be vaporized? Who's the next to become an unperson? As long as THEY control your "thinking," Everything can only worsen. If only to awaken from the nightmare Where truth becomes a likelihood And we retain humanity! Wouldn't that be "doubleplusgood"? -by Bob B (8-30-18)
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Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 12:21 PM UTC
Orwellian Nightmare
THEY will have the final word. Believe what the PARTY says is true. Even Facecrime gives you away, For BIG BROTHER is watching you. Honesty? Bah, such nonsense! Loyalty is what must sell. State-spread rumors incite the mob In your bleak, dystopian hell. Reject evidence of eyes and ears. That's what THEY say. Watch how hate Turns the unquestioning supporter Against the enemies of the state. The Goodthinkful, unaware How language affects their thoughts and behavior, Show how ignorance is strength And lavish praise upon their savior. Manipulating public opinion, THEY know well-spread lies will last, For that's how THEY'LL control the future, And that's how THEY control the past. Doublethink is what THEY call it: The clever art of reality control. Ignorance is strength, THEY tell you. Controlled insanity is THEIR goal. The more powerful THEY become, The less THEY prove to be your friend. It's NOT about what's good for the people. Power is NOT a means but an end. War is declared on language and memory. Inconvenient facts are rejected. Science is reviled, and THEY Discredit people once respected. Doublespeak narrows the range of thought. By caving in you might survive. Two and two make four, but sometimes THEY'LL say that two and two make five. Opinions are not tolerated. Protective stupidity: that's THEIR plan. You think THEY can't control your thoughts, But, oh, THEY can. THEY really can. Do you look at your screen, or does Your screen look at you? Or Both? Do you know how much THEY know Or if THEY know you've kept your oath? Who's the next to be vaporized? Who's the next to become an unperson? As long as THEY control your "thinking," Everything can only worsen. If only to awaken from the nightmare Where truth becomes a likelihood And we retain humanity! Wouldn't that be "doubleplusgood"? -by Bob B (8-30-18)
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Tax the poor and reward the rich This line should be reversed But, the politicians always use this line It's a line they have rehearsed As soon as they are voted in They give themselves a raise When we question what they did this for They just sit there in a daze They use all sorts of doublespeak To tell us all their reasons For taxing poor and elderly The rich are out of season A few cents here, a nickel there No one will notice that While our old folks sit at home Sharing tinned food with their cat Tax the poor and reward the rich This line should be reversed But, the politicians always use this line It's a line they have rehearsed As soon as they are voted in They give themselves a raise When we question what they did this for They just sit there in a daze The veterans they are targets too Their pensions get rolled back They hit those who can't defend themselves Or are too poor to fight back They give out tax cuts to the rich Big business gets the most While our working poor are stuck at home Finding new ways to serve toast They sell our jobs and tax our lives Until we're better dead But then we can't afford to die We've no place to lay our head They sit in ivory towers Looking down on those below Wondering how to get more money in How to make their pockets grow The parties not in power Try their best to make a change But to do that, we need lots of help Parliament must rearrange The way the parties govern The way they ***** the meek There must be changes at the top To help strengthen the weak There's people on the system Who worked hard and did their part Now they can't afford an apple Let alone the apple cart Tax the poor and reward the rich This line should be reversed But, the politicians always use this line It's a line they have rehearsed As soon as they are voted in They give themselves a raise When we question what they did this for They just sit there in a daze So, at the next election Don't just vote because you should Go and vote for something different Go and vote for something good Because your parents vote one colour And you choose to do that too Is not a true democracy You've a choice in what to do If you're voting for the first time Think real hard before you pick All their promises look tasty Until you give them a good lick Remember how your grandpa Said "It was much better when" "We were treated fair and equally" And it can be done again So if Tax the poor and reward the rich Is the motto that you choose I hope that you'll rememer this When you can't afford new shoes The time to change what's wrong is now Start giving money back To those who can't afford to lose The one's who fall between the crack So tax the rich, reward the poor Take the tax cuts all away And make our seniors equal Don't make them be the ones that pay.
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May 13, 2012
May 13, 2012 at 7:46 PM UTC
Tax the Poor and Reward The Rich
Tax the poor and reward the rich This line should be reversed But, the politicians always use this line It's a line they have rehearsed As soon as they are voted in They give themselves a raise When we question what they did this for They just sit there in a daze They use all sorts of doublespeak To tell us all their reasons For taxing poor and elderly The rich are out of season A few cents here, a nickel there No one will notice that While our old folks sit at home Sharing tinned food with their cat Tax the poor and reward the rich This line should be reversed But, the politicians always use this line It's a line they have rehearsed As soon as they are voted in They give themselves a raise When we question what they did this for They just sit there in a daze The veterans they are targets too Their pensions get rolled back They hit those who can't defend themselves Or are too poor to fight back They give out tax cuts to the rich Big business gets the most While our working poor are stuck at home Finding new ways to serve toast They sell our jobs and tax our lives Until we're better dead But then we can't afford to die We've no place to lay our head They sit in ivory towers Looking down on those below Wondering how to get more money in How to make their pockets grow The parties not in power Try their best to make a change But to do that, we need lots of help Parliament must rearrange The way the parties govern The way they ***** the meek There must be changes at the top To help strengthen the weak There's people on the system Who worked hard and did their part Now they can't afford an apple Let alone the apple cart Tax the poor and reward the rich This line should be reversed But, the politicians always use this line It's a line they have rehearsed As soon as they are voted in They give themselves a raise When we question what they did this for They just sit there in a daze So, at the next election Don't just vote because you should Go and vote for something different Go and vote for something good Because your parents vote one colour And you choose to do that too Is not a true democracy You've a choice in what to do If you're voting for the first time Think real hard before you pick All their promises look tasty Until you give them a good lick Remember how your grandpa Said "It was much better when" "We were treated fair and equally" And it can be done again So if Tax the poor and reward the rich Is the motto that you choose I hope that you'll rememer this When you can't afford new shoes The time to change what's wrong is now Start giving money back To those who can't afford to lose The one's who fall between the crack So tax the rich, reward the poor Take the tax cuts all away And make our seniors equal Don't make them be the ones that pay.
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Indoctrination of the American nation Relocation of native populations Slaves labor, creating plastic toys To distract the little girls and boys With media propaganda saturation To numb your brain from realization That we're living a lie as children die To fill your tank so you can drive To Wal-Mart for some motherfuckin' Cheesy Poofs That scoop the dip in which you **** Lay waste to nature's beauty abundant Political doublespeak redundantly redundant Television's collision with consciousness Has dimmed your awareness to idiocy In an illusion of democracy Where only the rich have control As upon us all they take their toll And we blindly follow, believing as we hear Their scheming lies of security and fear It's time the power structure fell No more this **** to buy and sell Reallocation of the hoarded wealth And power for all people, not oneself Mental stasis, awaken from this hypnosis And avert the coming catastrophic crisis Our leaders are masters who march us to disaster As the clash of our cultures ignites so much faster Than mere cognition, dimmed by television Can comprehend the impending collision Of conflicting interest in collective vision It's time to rise with a battle cry And tell the Feds we won't lay down and die We'll evolve and resolve the situation And bring new meaning to revolution An end to the media's web of confusion Confusing reality with an illusion Conspiratorial governmental parallels A trumpet's blast, as Babylon.... fell.
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Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 4:53 PM UTC
Conspiratorial Governmanetal Parallels
Like Winston Smith, I think it’s time to start a diary. Follow me now:  it’s April in Oceania, The cruelest month, The silly season, printemps, A regular I see London, I see France. I see Winston’s Underpants. If you catch my drift? La Primavera: Vivaldi’s rocking the Juke box and the vote, Botticelli’s painting, A mural on Jerusalem's wailing wall. My diary will be hard evidence of thought crime. Thought crime: one of the more severe varieties of Religious experience & the most psychotic form of mental illness, In a category known as antisocial personality disorders. Thought crime means never getting into any serious trouble, Until you’re caught, can we at least agree on that? So, we'd better add the DSM to our stack of essential literary classics. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Published by the American Psychiatric Association, Providing a common language, A shrink’s Esperanto. DSM-IV codes classify mental disorders. The DSM: a Frommer’s travel guide & User’s manual for life on planet Earth. So, like Orwell's Winston, I start a diary of my own; but Unlike Mr. Smith, I address my message to the here & What’s happening now, not the future, not the past but N-a-zayer, N-a-zither NOW. That's right, I write for the present: “If thought was ever free, it is not free now." If truth exists it is a closely guarded secret, Although McLuhan’s observations hide in plain sight: *“The new electronic interdependence, recreates The world in the image of a global village.”* Which makes us all global village idiots. We are no longer different from one another; The age of groupthink is here. I write to you from an age of security & surveillance, Warrantless search and predator drones, An age where no man is ever truly alone. From an age of standardization, replaceable parts, Whirling dervishes, dabblers in spin control, Newspeak and doublespeak, Atlas shrugged, drugged and fugged, The new world order: All but the faint of heart need apply, … "I send greetings.”
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May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 3:56 PM UTC
"My New Diary"
Like Winston Smith, I think it’s time to start a diary. Follow me now:  it’s April in Oceania, The cruelest month, The silly season, printemps, A regular I see London, I see France. I see Winston’s Underpants. If you catch my drift? La Primavera: Vivaldi’s rocking the Juke box and the vote, Botticelli’s painting, A mural on Jerusalem's wailing wall. My diary will be hard evidence of thought crime. Thought crime: one of the more severe varieties of Religious experience & the most psychotic form of mental illness, In a category known as antisocial personality disorders. Thought crime means never getting into any serious trouble, Until you’re caught, can we at least agree on that? So, we'd better add the DSM to our stack of essential literary classics. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Published by the American Psychiatric Association, Providing a common language, A shrink’s Esperanto. DSM-IV codes classify mental disorders. The DSM: a Frommer’s travel guide & User’s manual for life on planet Earth. So, like Orwell's Winston, I start a diary of my own; but Unlike Mr. Smith, I address my message to the here & What’s happening now, not the future, not the past but N-a-zayer, N-a-zither NOW. That's right, I write for the present: “If thought was ever free, it is not free now." If truth exists it is a closely guarded secret, Although McLuhan’s observations hide in plain sight: *“The new electronic interdependence, recreates The world in the image of a global village.”* Which makes us all global village idiots. We are no longer different from one another; The age of groupthink is here. I write to you from an age of security & surveillance, Warrantless search and predator drones, An age where no man is ever truly alone. From an age of standardization, replaceable parts, Whirling dervishes, dabblers in spin control, Newspeak and doublespeak, Atlas shrugged, drugged and fugged, The new world order: All but the faint of heart need apply, … "I send greetings.”
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All of gods children.                                                     Walk by faith. Not by sight. Blessed is the meek.  Love your enemy I know that sounds weak. It is the context.                                   An eye for an eye. Doublespeak ? I am learning to live and ÷ I live to learn. Learn to forgive or you surely will burn.  I am a skeptic by trade A realist by nature. Deeper still Deeper transcend.deeper. The surface lies deeper and furthur below. To err is human to transcend, devine. So. Seek within . Conjure without. Heal your heart with love. Love. Deeper. Feel.deeper. Give. Deeper. Cast your bread. Furthur and abide. Deeper without and deeper inside.
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Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 1:57 AM UTC
I wish you well
Bill knows all about Black ops; he’s been Involved in many; hush Hush stuff. Knew about The JFK ***** Watch Your back, Bill, old Friends said; now most Are dead, but Bill’s still Around, keeping his nose Clean, his eyes keen, his Brain alert. He knows Things are going on; he Reads the news, hears Politician’s doublespeak, Reads between the lines. His mother bathed his Grazed knees, kissed His bruises, covered up His lies, prayed for him. Never understood him Not even on her last day. He visited her in hospital, But wouldn’t stay; said it Was best for both of them That way. The American Dream; what a laugh, he Muses, standing in the Doorway, watching for The cab, remembering Mexico, the dark ops There, the way it went. Nice place that, except For the reasons sent. He knew headlines Were falsified; lies Were spread. Knew Why Kennedy got it In the head. Years pass By, he sighs, most people Forget. New ops arrive, Word sent, politicians Bought up and out and Spent. Could have been Some one, Bill, his father Often said, could have made The grade, been at the top, Crème de la crème. **** that, Bill said, don’t want to be Part of that sick scene, don’t Want to be a sadshit like them.
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Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 4:18 AM UTC
BLACK OPS.
again, this word retard. my anger loves you. only my anger loves you. a closed pocket mirror in my mother’s purse is on its own. a person is a message. the offer stands; I will ****** you in exchange for sex. this is not where we go when we live.
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Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 4:20 PM UTC
doublespeak
A life of doublespeak, I think you're weak, Never mind, (you're a dipstick), Means 'I don't give a blip', Blip happens, Means, 'You're crapping', Do stop moaning, And all your groaning, Dull contemplation, Of ex manipulation. Yes, doublespeak, Means I think you're weak, 'Have a good day,' so long, Who cares why the ex carries on?
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Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 10:48 PM UTC
DOUBLESPEAK.....
my mother handed out love in admonishments about clean shoes and brushed teeth to try our best and not to bleat about a life hard and oft incomplete....it is only now after years of growing in understand it is not because she was hard, uncaring  but that she was as fragile as spun glass so much already taken stolen by this world...her mother while in her teens first love taken by vietnam war machine, first child, daughter a few days old...and then three live children, later husband taken by gambling and a woman she considered a friend. those simple words became hard to say....to admit love was to have it ripped away. so she taught herself, this terse morse of words imbued with love..take a jumper... have you got your books all double entendre just in care not risque with love bespoke.... as children we learnt to find the deeper meaning to parse conversations for love...sifted by despair... we learnt well, the art of doublespeak....
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Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 7:25 PM UTC
doublespeak
Once there was a nation, which Boasted of its wealth and size. In that nation lies became truth, And truth became known as lies. Thus, the country corroborated An expert's wise and salient prediction That soon the people everywhere Wouldn't know fact from fiction. "Science is irrelevant," The leaders of the land decreed. "Clamp down on critical thinking And we'll maintain control indeed." The people became MORE baffled, MORE confused, MORE perplexed, And wondered what kind of craziness They were going to encounter next. The art of political doublespeak Was praised, encouraged and expanded. If you called it gobbledygook, You were severely reprimanded. Reporters who sought facts were called "Purveyors of mendacity," While those who were irrational Were "pillars of veracity." The general rule was answer a question With a question, or try to deflect Any queries toward dead ends. The tactic was called "Misdirect." The leader was an expert at Duplicity and subterfuge. Ruling without intelligence Can work when a person's ego is HUGE. Sad it was to see such a land Change from what it once had been. Not until people opened their eyes Would things improve. Not until then. - by Bob B (3-21-17)
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Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 1:15 PM UTC
A Place Called Lie Lie Land
I watch the flicker of lights They are clear and steady Blazing out continuously In brilliant letters Huge digital billboards And cold electronic signs Sending signals to the brain Of the latest consumer designs No time to think No time to digest it Keep on working To pay for the transmit I will buy a new car And replace the TV Keep the system rolling As part of the economy Stroll around the mall Listen to the doublespeak Join in with the crowd Buy the same as last week Buy now, buy now Self autonomy Buy it replace it Its good for the economy Goodbye for now But you will be back Customer loyalty With biofeedback
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Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 5:12 PM UTC
Subliminal Girl
Here we are again . sitting at the kitchen table with silverware in hand doing what we do best ; prodding, poking, slicing and cutting. tearing away and chewing Our gazes stray from the mashed potatoes to the steaks bleeding on our plates but never/ to the eyes at the other end of the table ; to the face wanting to be seen we make small talk out of the corner of our mouths as we chew away the fat ; talking of the meaningless/ how the food is of the pointless/ how the day went of the impossible . . how . are . you . It's all the same just as the night before was/ the night before and before/ the table is set the food is placed and we sit ; Far . away . on this our hallowed ground our ritual performed in doublespeak Pass the salt, please/ a dance for rain More peas, dear?/ a primal scream Looks good, honey/ a sacrificial lamb in your name, we dine amen
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Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 9:36 AM UTC
Dinner
Love loves to be Plain, simple and free No hide and seek No doublespeak And word play And no delay In breaking Deadly silence That is humiliating To sit on the fence And sing a song And play along The margin Just imagine Love as a bee That stings And Sings The pain Simple and plain Loves love to be A sweet gain Of sweet loss Of me in we Where love Loves to be!
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Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 2:21 AM UTC
Love to Be
The poet cannot talk about what he already knows. Northrop Frye light splits the world in seen and unseen night accelerates some fascination I contemplate the poverty of words who is doing the autopsy of freedom or something, a requiem for a country that torments its name streets don't smell of winter but of loneliness and oblivion, exhaustion and rage some have already forgotten the meaning of blood we like sweating not weeping, cursing not dreaming, finding the stain not the brain of fog we practice forgetting like the snake charmers dreams look like second hand stores, like the promise of the apocalypse,  a local version of Munch's scream, like an uninvented wheel or the beginning of the world. an old lady sells fir wreaths in disbelief too many drugstores ignore the untethered soul,   a place of redemption they are, unwittingly here there are poets, there are beasts, gentle souls and blind alleys, indifferent smiles and lazy hands and who can hear/bear the echo of that song... better dead than communists, comrades province hates the center, the center forgets its north, the all good sequestred against the all bad, no dialectics in doublespeak truth to be told, there is  no consent for telling the truth ersatz emotions exchanged casually, Hell is other people. always.  some play Russian roulette with reality, we are the heirs of a history disorder if my dreams are full of birds, waters, lonesome deposits of the flow of time, I have to wonder is history a desire machine searching for some mythical proportions this country or a ****** mother with indifferent hands here citizens have no faces, but interrupted gestures, fractured thoughts without containment I fear those who cannot cry without the meaning of blood history has no meaning or maybe it does, look at the speed of some digital thoughts,  the attack of ready made ideas. ideology becomes eulogy no wonder I don't know how to end this poem we need new words that contain their power what is freedom? who knows, who cares. oh, an old adagio, a gangrene of our undiscovered minds
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Jan 8, 2025
Jan 8, 2025 at 4:22 PM UTC
poverty of words
The poet cannot talk about what he already knows. Northrop Frye light splits the world in seen and unseen night accelerates some fascination I contemplate the poverty of words who is doing the autopsy of freedom or something, a requiem for a country that torments its name streets don't smell of winter but of loneliness and oblivion, exhaustion and rage some have already forgotten the meaning of blood we like sweating not weeping, cursing not dreaming, finding the stain not the brain of fog we practice forgetting like the snake charmers dreams look like second hand stores, like the promise of the apocalypse,  a local version of Munch's scream, like an uninvented wheel or the beginning of the world. an old lady sells fir wreaths in disbelief too many drugstores ignore the untethered soul,   a place of redemption they are, unwittingly here there are poets, there are beasts, gentle souls and blind alleys, indifferent smiles and lazy hands and who can hear/bear the echo of that song... better dead than communists, comrades province hates the center, the center forgets its north, the all good sequestred against the all bad, no dialectics in doublespeak truth to be told, there is  no consent for telling the truth ersatz emotions exchanged casually, Hell is other people. always.  some play Russian roulette with reality, we are the heirs of a history disorder if my dreams are full of birds, waters, lonesome deposits of the flow of time, I have to wonder is history a desire machine searching for some mythical proportions this country or a ****** mother with indifferent hands here citizens have no faces, but interrupted gestures, fractured thoughts without containment I fear those who cannot cry without the meaning of blood history has no meaning or maybe it does, look at the speed of some digital thoughts,  the attack of ready made ideas. ideology becomes eulogy no wonder I don't know how to end this poem we need new words that contain their power what is freedom? who knows, who cares. oh, an old adagio, a gangrene of our undiscovered minds
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Halloween night 2015-- A bevy of goblins and ghouls Out there in the dark of the night Met to shape their new rules. "Let us unite! Let us be one In our quest to upset the truth." Their work, they agreed, would come to fruition In a future polling booth. "Stir the cauldron of rampant despair; Throw in confusion and doubt. Add a pinch of oblivion so no one Knows what we're about. Let us deceive with facile duplicity; Let us trick the unwary. Above all, don't let them see our true selves. THAT, fellow ghouls, would be scary!" Their voices rose in the crisp autumn darkness-- A murky, grumbling chant: "Hiss. Hiss. Ignorance is bliss. Woe to them who recant…. "Let us be amorphous and vague; Let them see what we're not. Give us the power of doublespeak To dodge all critical thought." Werewolves howled. Black cats screeched. A haunting moan filled the air. A poor, disoriented bat got tangled In one ghoul's corn-tassel hair. "May we strengthen our power to mislead-- To obliterate those who defy us With vicious attacks based on lies. We'll let nothing get by us. "Let us prolong the witching hour. May it last for a years! Stir the *** of forgetfulness," They all said with sneers. Halloween night 2015-- A frightening night to remember. Beware the ghoul leading the pack In 2016 in November. - by Bob B
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Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 10:52 AM UTC
Halloween Night 2015
*”And everyone has a heart and it’s calling for something And we are all so sick and tired of seeing things as they are Horses are just horses and their manes aren’t full of fire And the fields are just fields and there ain’t no Lord And everyone is hidden and everyone is cruel”* “BRIGHT HORSES,” NICK CAVE & THE BAD SEEDS 2019 <> some of us got a heart, that tries with us to reason, some of us got a mind, that doubles as a hearse, taking away, e-thots that were dead on arrival, electrified by their unacceptable eclectic nature some of us got word games to pass the day, doublespeak, some of us illustrate, words that try to litter the literate, seed the atmosphere, make it rain, confuse our ****** tear railroad tracks,   those without final terminus, mixing them in, as a subterfuge reality ***** even bites, of that the philosophers have no doubt, some say they died for us, never having asked permission, some say they saved us from ourselves, claiming cursed credit that historians will purposely ignore, non-truths worthless what is, is what I got to write down, to remember, to make my Case for saving grace, is my only purpose, to make my Case that a woman needs loving, giving her & man the only Trip-Tik road to living, & children, nothing words, liquor can do May 12th, eyes opened of their own accord, made a treaty with them thoughts and prayers hanging round, needy for a go to place, cause they well aware, their welcome ain’t, so instead wrote these words purposed to give me reasons to rise and try to make sense, a Case, that conversations tween my five senses that can be enCased, that anything I got saying may be worth hearing to one or two, hell, may get lucky and reach ten, socially distant max, forgetting fools, now acquainted with my Case, your Case, calling for something ***that makes real OK, seeing things as they are, **** even passable**^ 9:39AM nyc Tue May 12
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May 12, 2020
May 12, 2020 at 10:02 AM UTC
making my Case (everyone has a heart, and it’s calling for something)
*”And everyone has a heart and it’s calling for something And we are all so sick and tired of seeing things as they are Horses are just horses and their manes aren’t full of fire And the fields are just fields and there ain’t no Lord And everyone is hidden and everyone is cruel”* “BRIGHT HORSES,” NICK CAVE & THE BAD SEEDS 2019 <> some of us got a heart, that tries with us to reason, some of us got a mind, that doubles as a hearse, taking away, e-thots that were dead on arrival, electrified by their unacceptable eclectic nature some of us got word games to pass the day, doublespeak, some of us illustrate, words that try to litter the literate, seed the atmosphere, make it rain, confuse our ****** tear railroad tracks,   those without final terminus, mixing them in, as a subterfuge reality ***** even bites, of that the philosophers have no doubt, some say they died for us, never having asked permission, some say they saved us from ourselves, claiming cursed credit that historians will purposely ignore, non-truths worthless what is, is what I got to write down, to remember, to make my Case for saving grace, is my only purpose, to make my Case that a woman needs loving, giving her & man the only Trip-Tik road to living, & children, nothing words, liquor can do May 12th, eyes opened of their own accord, made a treaty with them thoughts and prayers hanging round, needy for a go to place, cause they well aware, their welcome ain’t, so instead wrote these words purposed to give me reasons to rise and try to make sense, a Case, that conversations tween my five senses that can be enCased, that anything I got saying may be worth hearing to one or two, hell, may get lucky and reach ten, socially distant max, forgetting fools, now acquainted with my Case, your Case, calling for something ***that makes real OK, seeing things as they are, **** even passable**^ 9:39AM nyc Tue May 12
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