All-new
****** lands
(except for the natives)
dying to be properly deflowered and nailed and ******* and erroded
to make way for gun forts and gold mines
(they can be built!)
they're called Zale's and they love money
funny, not to all but to enough
call them crazy call them savage
but maybe they just love their homes
and don't own the kinds of weapons that make the loudest noise
but that **** the slowest and with least dignity.
Color-me a Cosmo girl
fit to be cover material, just look at my hair
look at Pocahontas, you know she was bald?
Hideous, un-English in every way
probably because she wasn't
but gotta give credite where credit is rejected, overdrawn
maybe never even earned just splurged and secreted
but wanna hear a secret?
The land belongs to nobody
not a soul not a body not a mind
they knew this but knew others were destroying it
that's why they were mad,
not because they were children who had their toys stolen
but because a living lifeless matter was being assaulted
catapulted into the future of steam engines and fried chicken
feathers blowing in the winds of convertables
they took scalps to maybe open the minds to the error of ways
not that one's head should be disassembled
but one can't seem so oblivious or wide eyed when shown the  facts
of obvious emotional response
but we are young
dinosaurs were old and we have time to forget.

I was once a castaway
Of an unforgiving sea
I made a castle in the sand
To ease the pain in me

I made the ramparts ten feet tall
The walls were four feet thick
I filled the moat with lots of sharks
I built it brick by brick

I walked the walls most every day
No rescuer about
But I did not want folks to come in
I wished to keep them out!

The sand was cast in hate you see
The mortar my foe's blood
I repaired the walls quite often 'coz
My inner tears would flood

Within the walls, a prisoner,
My anger was my meat
My only water my own tears
They washed about my feet

Finally the water rose,
From weeping, o'r my head
Their waves erroded at the walls
And the SEA was fed!

Whilst the walls were quickly shrinking
A tide, like floods, came in!
All the sharks went out to sea,
My destiny was grim!

I made a fine, tall castle, yes,
Of sand & shells & grout
To shelter me within? Oh no!
To keep my loved ones OUT!

And others unforgiven.
And the ones I hated.
And other prejudices, yes,
That went on unabated...

And so I found a Mighty Rock
Upon which I stood.
I finally found life's meaning, YES!
I finally understood!

Forgiveness? A DECISION.
To put pride on the shelf.
And freeing up your fellow man
You  become FREE YOURSELF.

Though for years, I drank my tears,
My thirst was never slaked.
And hatred's fused & melted sand

Does not a DIAMOND MAKE.



SoulSurvivor
(C) 4/3/2017

You hate life right now
But not with me around you won't
It sounds self conceited
But who cares
You know what I mean
I'm anything but to demean
My soul has been maturing
As your seems to be alluring
But has fallen into the black
I will paint it a new color
Only if you let me
Don't stay corroded
Don't stay erroded
Help me help you
Another life springing into prosperity
Is good enough for me
It's fantastic actually
This is what I live for

You're in trouble
We think its double
And now were going to silently burst the bubble
Were going to reduce your isolation to rubble
I know to some this isn't subtle
But it shouldn't be
No, it shouldn't be
Your life went downhill fast
And you were a victim
I'm so sorry we erroded our common sense and clashed here and there
The fault is mine and for that I'm sorry
I remember the potential you had shown when we were little
Year by year we drifted apart
But I never wanted to see your life fall apart
I haven't treated you the best but I do care
I'm just a ****** sometimes cause I'm mad at myself or something else
No excuses, blame it on me still
Life has stood still
For a few moments
Because we don't know what happened to you
And we're fearing the worst
We hope you didn't do what you think
Please stay strong
You don't deserve any of this
I'm rushed with guilt for the past
But I'm going to make it up now
And were going to get revenge for you somehow
We got your back

A star within itself imploded.
Gravity at its end, erroded.

All light ceases to exist.
Disappearing in some deep abyss.

Nothing found and nothing gained.
No relief, no certainty, not even pain.

Forever yearning to explore your depths.
Time is abandoned with nothing left.

These words hold on
to the last thread
of your existence
in my life

as you persist
in all the planes
of my mind

it is long
almost infinite
dear Elysium
dont forget me

i will strongly grasp
the erroded clasps
of our chain

until roots sprout
from my veins
let us be
soul and air
again and again

i can't stress it enough,
my memory is the most
worthwhile kind of movie
that i'd come and see
most of the time...
one new year's eve...
      an odd gathering of
people you wouldn't
usually see under one room...
and there's me drinking...
then there's me
holding a child by his
legs, upside-down...
swinging him,
         and him laughing...
then i'm on all my fours,
crawling, and two children
jumping on me,
   and asking me to be a pony...
but dangling that boy
by his legs upside-down...
that stuck with me...
perhaps it was just because
of the laughter.
i feel sorry for people who've had
their memory erroded by
something like pythagoras
and trigonometry...
      to have forgotten one's child,
that is oneself...
     and then to bring up children;
what a sad affair,
        never escaping the educational
cycle of events,
        on a carousel of constant
re-         re-        +        -peat...
still, dangling that boy by
his feet, upside down, and swinging
him, and his laughter...
       well... i also could have been
a father.

and i listen and i listen and...

this is the current reality?
and, i am not part of it?

where did i go wrong?!

'you're fringe'

ah...

                "it wouldn't even
matter"...

     because if i were
to mind these arguments...
i wouldn't be
the one walking into
an alley
on a Friday night,
when the best of the jovial
come out like
cysts or zombies...

       if the script of humanity,
backlog,
and books became
akin to bricks...
there wouldn't be
a ******* mud-hut standing
to alleviate
a compensation
for "progress"...

truly:
i've been looking for a ****
for two days...
    holy man looking
for ****:
    that's deliberately
a Hindu tabloid headline...
constipated like
a cat...

i am attempting to make
myself care,
and i care: to attempt to make
myself
burden anything that
requires:

being explained gender
post-science...
          not in "biological"
terms,
but in terms of physics...
via: what reproduction
scuttle-rope implies
for the... non-Olympic
tripple-jump
   competition...
and how pistons work,
or...
the basics of:
a key and a keyhole...

what banana is to mouth
to chew to being
******* out...
i need, i need to relearn
the basics!
i need: caveman talk!
god, i'm gagging for it...

can anyone tell me
what cis is?
i'm missing that branch
of the benzene ring...
i should know the cis-
prefix antonym...
  (oh look,
no possesive "article"
of an ascriptive 's to be added)...

but i need to
reiterated on the basic
difference of
the pork-eaters united...
the criticism of
Islam against pork-eaters
that does not include
the other champions of
pork, the Xin Ching and Chow
dynasties of Cha-Cha'I'N'AH...

can i be ortho-
or meta-
             on this, grand grand,
ferriswheel of applying
vectors to attatchment groups
on a benzene ring?
     can i be meta-******?

but please explain to me
the working of a key
a door and a keyhole...
i'm sure we can settle for...
touching bums
as the only worthy explanation
for the purpose of doors,
or walls...
or houses...
        emotionally orientated
atoms...
oh i feel...
          i too feel...
             i feel like...
i've been looking for a ****
for the past two days...
less contemplative
and more... constipated...
and i can't seem to find it!

great terms...
  i noun-dodo...
                    i wet sheep
under a dry umbrella...
and i'll listen,
and i'll listen...
and i will not say much,
eventuality writing
something akin to this...
and...

              i'll want to entertain
myself with...
             watching a pit of maggots
wriggling...
   or...
remember...
the time i took my pet doberman
for a walk, and he pit into
a pile of ****,
and, unearthed,
was a wriggling
              compound of parasitic
worms inside the ****...
worms...
wriggling in ****...

    come to think of it...
the more i remember a past,
the more i strain my faculty
of memory...
   the more i find myself
at odds of being robotic...

             or at least: having been...
but only via the reference
point of memory,
being extracted and posited
on my now, current, self...

and i live in a time
of the architecture of
the faculty of memory being:
inexhaustible...
         i guess by being mortal,
i have been implanted
with a faulty faculty of
memory...
       whereby memory is also
erosion...
   double erroded by
the rubrics of the education
system...
prior to: world,
made subject to the ambitions
of applying 2 x 2 = 4
in the day-to-day life...

never ******* happens
for serious reasons...

                does it even matter
to have made a point
in the first place?
   it's a blank canvas...
which has to be equivalent
to a punching bag...
so... it requires
   being bashed...
          less by fists
and more by the tips of
fingers...
               such purpose
and the purpose's coincidence,
timed, to a suitable
awareness...
               less deus ex machina...
and more:
           **** in machina.