"fraudulent" poems
Golden Valleys, Growing Naturally
<>
This is a Logo in Ireland, Dairygold™
is the company.
I would safely say, that there is hardly
an acre in rural Ireland devoid of some
form of artificial fertilisers, pesticides,
herbicides or fungicides.
(Ireland is riddled with consumer cancer)
If the Logo was written as follows,
a comma between Growing & Naturally
plus an exclamation mark ! which should
really be a question mark ? (in the absence
of the comma between Valleys & Growing)
i.e.
Golden Valleys, Growing, Naturally! or ?
Then it might pass.
Let's see if we can force them to change
it and by doing so, it will highlight the
fraudulent practice of duping consumers
with blatant grammatical omissions and
the wordplay illusion by clever marketers.
(Well, perhaps not as clever as they thought)
ps.
I spent all morning, wondering should they
be a comma in the last paragraph, in the
afternoon, I removed it. Oscar Wilde.
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 3:27 AM UTC
Miscommunication
serendipity, anticipation,
blurred reality -
lost in the dialect
of a dream,
in pursuit
of Love
find callous irony;
subversion of desire
what's it all about?
to know and be known.
Mere seconds
of scrutiny
inferior,
I am shown.
Her appraisal
eviscerating
my warm flesh,
her tilted criteria
supplanting the interior,
voluble with
saccharine neologisms
and preferences
for the exterior.
(not mine)
Ironic was my
attraction to
her brain.
Lines, features
and symmetry,
image - the commodity,
aesthetics, the
currency
in this transaction,
cursory liaison,
incendiary,
collapse of the
insurgent ego -
there was no
us in the
the affair of
nothingness.
Bruised in
abasement,
I'm not the one -
I thought I was.
Hyperbole -
the center
of delusion,
a curious
diversion -
avoid my life.
The allure of
the illusion,
transference,
the ordinary to
the romantic,
the perfect other.
Searching, the
absorbing project -
aquiring wholeness,
did she reject me?
I rejected me.
The escape into
fraudulent
sadness,
to mourn,
is to displace,
the disowned heart
by self is tragic.
Should
I not mourn for
the one I'm
deferring?
Inside of me
It's safe,
to lament
the loss of
identity -
tension is agony
without resolve
sequestered,
in my pain,
self-imposed
familiar terrain,
upon retrieval,
awaking in
renewal,
mystery and destiny
providentially,
I am free.
Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 8:08 PM UTC
How wonderful it is, I say, to the retreating
yellow form of your feelings I mistook
For Infatuation, you’re a romance heckler
far and far away from
Accepting fruition within classrooms and
being labelled as an angel.
And it was within forbidden hell of
euphoria, I found
You nestled in the society’s psyche
neither content or calling
For help. Neither did you neglect the
pink spectacles of the society,
Even found yourself moulding and moulding
into a fungi green
That I could not recognize, within that
half-sanctum, half-oasis I found you
absentmindedly
Bathing in, you were already out of
its waters.
And I was no longer seeing you within
the dry desert or the sibilance
of my desires, but instead
in cement woodlands and
Within artificial communication and
Intimacy I gave willingly.
Now how does it feel, to have your
heart in one piece,
How does it feel to not use
whipped cream to fill in the
Cracked, salty sections of your
own ***** that,
Out of confusion, continues to
play its favorite song but
in all the wrong beats.
Somehow within cacophony I found
you, nestled, comfortable in
Bogus, fraudulent wings of a former
angel- who now weeps under our
Feet in theory- Somehow, somewhere,
I lost you within an epiphany
That reeked of bliss and pleasure-
Somehow, we end up losing
Twins of the heavens when all is well.
How wonderful.
How wonderful it is, I say, to your
lost, secretly-weeping figure
That I can’t tell whether transparent or
yellow your figure is.
But I keep speaking-
“Oh, how (falsely) wonderful it is-
To love the first angel I’ve set
my eyes upon-
“Oh, how (falsely) wonderful it is-
To lose an angel, no matter how
phoney, to a social heaven.”
- enriko. aug 5. 11:45pm
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 12:32 PM UTC
The real subjectivity of life is overwhelming;
Prospective consumes our frontal cortex
But there is no escape from this vacuum seal.
We see the faces of our own delight,
The know how of the here and now,
But we are too blind to look past our own perspectives.
Even when we fathom the hearts of others,
Our understandings are predisposed to our own Identity.
Objectivity is a fleeting notion of reality, of truth
and its as though the ground we hold so dearly
Is constantly fleeing from our grasp.
Today we call this individualism,
a disconnect between one's self and society.
But I so selfishly and foolishly believe
that this chasm stems from being lied to so often.
Am I lying to myself or am I being lied to I do no know,
but it is important to understand that it does not matter
that nothing matters, because everything exists in my field of view.
The only question remains: am I correct
Or has the devil made me a fool?
But this does not confirm nihilism
only hints at its initial potential.
Yet there are common truths that are irrefutable
no matter who you are, real or not:
The reality is the here and now,
No matter what ghosts or demons there may be.
They affect the consciousness constantly
indifferently to whether or not they are fraudulent or true.
And my experiences are true, the emotions are radical,
and even if everyone I know is a figment and interpretation,
they still hold a grasp onto my withering heart.
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 1:28 PM UTC
Exclusion or ... " Inclusion " ...
Which Option Do You Choose ... ???
Do You Feel Like ... " Your Inclusion " ...
Is The Passage To Be ... " Cool " ... ?!?
Even If The Crew You Follow ...
Is FULL of ... STUPID FOOLS ... !!!!!
FOOLS Who Use ...
Their Snakeskin Shoes ...
To Make Those CRUCIAL ...
... " Power Moves " ... !!!!!!!!!!
If That's You ... ???
Is That ... " YOU " ... ?!?
Are You ... REALLY ...
Being ...... " True " ...... !?!
Or ... Living Life ...
In A ... " Human Zoo " ...
By This I Mean ...
Your Self-Esteem ...
Has CLEARLY LOST ...
It's ..... " Mr. Sheen " ...... !!!
You're In A Zone ...
Now FILLED WITH CLONES ...
Whose Facade ... Is TOUGH ...
When ..... NOT Alone .....
They Change Their Ring ...
WITHOUT ... Dialling Tones ... !!!
Because They Have ....
Such ... " Brittle Bones " ... !!!
They Claim To Have ...
A ... " HAPPY Home " ... !!!!!
But FEAR The Thought ...
of Life .... ALONE ....
They Surround Themselves ...
With SUPERFICIAL Friends ...
Throughout Their Week ...
And At .... " Weekends " ....
So ..... ???
Which Do YOU Prefer ... ?!?
Exclusion or ... Inclusion ... ???
A Life Without Confusion ...
A Life Without The Nonsense ...
of ... " Agenda-Lead Collusion " ... !!!
Do You Need Doors Open ... ?
Or ... Do You ... ? ...
Open Them ... YOURSELF ... !?!?!
Do You Want To Make A DIFFERENCE ...
Or ... Get Yourself SOME WEALTH ... ?!?
I Try To Keep ...
My ... Mental Health ...
By .................... AVOIDING THOSE ......
Who Have ..... " Foul Smells " ..... !!!!!!!!!
I Trust In ... " God " ...
And TRUST ... MYSELF ...
To Do What's RIGHT ... !!!
Or ...
BURN IN HELL ... !!!
I BELIEVE In This ... !!!
YES ... Love Thyself ... !!!
Love Those Who ...
Do Love Themselves ... !!!
WITHOUT .... VANITY .... !!!
Or The .... " HARD SELL " .... !!!!!
These People Make ...
Our World UNWELL ... !!!!!
Look In Their Eyes ...
They're TELLING LIES ... !!!!!
To Be .... " Accepted " ....
By ..... FAKE GUYS ..... ?!?!?
Who Just Can't Take ...
..... My Diatribe ..... !!!!!!!
This View IS MINE ... !!!
It's NOT .... " Divine " ....
Don't Feel Inclined ...
To ..... FALL IN LINE ... !!!!!
Exclusion ISN'T ...
.... My Design .... !!!
It's Been ... " Designed " ...
By ..... " Simple Minds " ...
Who NEED Inclusion ...
.... ALL THE TIME .... !!!!!
Why Do They NEED IT ... ?!?
They Can KEEP IT ... !!!!!!!!
I'm An ... EXCEPTION With Insight ......... !!!
EXCLUDE ME If ... You Feel That's Right ... !!!
At The End of The Day .....
We're ALL GONNA DIE ... !!!!!!
Those Who ... " Exclude " ...
Will Probably FRY .... !?!
Finding INCLUSION ....
Where ... LUCIFER LIES ... !!!!!
That's NO SURPRISE .... !!!!!
.... " Facades and Lies " ....
Are Them DEFINED .... !!!!!!
But ... CAN'T DiSguIsE ...
Their Fraudulent Guise ... !!!!
It CAN'T Be Wise ...
To ... Always Hide ...
YOUR True Self .......
Why Be So Sly ... ?!?
That's A Question ...
I DON'T Face ... !!!
Because I'm ... ME ...
WHEREVER I Be ... !!!!!
I DON'T NEED ..... !!!
These PHONEY CLIQUES ... !!!!!
What About YOU ... ?!?
Are You ... TRUE ... ?!?!?
Or ... Do You NEED ... ?
These POMPOUS CREWS ... !?!
That's Up To ... YOU ...
What Do You Choose ... ?
" Exclusion Or ... Inclusion "
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 11:22 PM UTC
Trump STILL can't stand the thought
That Clinton won the popular vote.
In efforts to cause a major distraction,
He's keeping the voting fraud rumor afloat.
Clinton received two point eight
Million more votes than he--
Votes from voters physically present
Or votes from those voting absentee.
He says that he has evidence
Of widespread fraud. We can surmise
That he has his "alternative facts"--
A handy euphemism for lies.
It's a preposterous, baseless claim,
A mere BELIEF that he maintains,
Another false conspiracy theory,
An insult to people who use their brains.
Voting fraud is an issue
That Trump loves to keep in his sights.
For him it's a very useful excuse
To go after voting rights.
If there was so much voting fraud,
The chances of which are very slim,
Does Trump ever wonder how many
Fraudulent votes went to him?
The more he whines, the more he harps--
He's even driving Republicans mad!--
The more he loses the smattering
Of credibility that he once had.
- by Bob B (1-24-17)
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 8:48 AM UTC
He is a bookworm humming marching tunes with a caribou.
They smell the sky, hear the sand, see the bright red light with their tongues.
Ed Ed the Knucklehead hides his hands in Ottawa.
Ed never hid his hands, he revealed them for all to see.
Splish-Splash, Splish-Splash, his webbed feet slap the tiled floor,tasting, tasting, tasting.
Walking, walking, walking
The foul-smelling wall of hunger screams empty codes at the freezing sun.
"Calculus," whispers Ed, "I want more Calculus."
The math will sneak by, he will feel its shadow; but not yet.
Sour triangles whirling openly greet the visitors.
Powerfully they mask their entrance embracing fraudulent identities.
The caribou now speaks his truth, "Ani rotzeh tachtonim."
Blindly the door opens and reveals all that the caribou desires stripes, rainbows, little flowers.
Down the long pathway to nowhere.
Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 5:45 PM UTC
'CONDEMNED' screams the offensive yellow tape
wrapped around my door like an angry snake
I'm a crumbling abandoned city apartment
and the letters of your name can be found carved into my scattered bricks.
The memories we shared were sweet,
but you've moved on now. To a newer part of town,
all gaudy gold and glowing neon and soulless silver.
Even though you're hypnotized by its fraudulent shine
I wonder whether you remember
the love and mortar that once held us together.
For these walls still stand tall
through countless stormy nights, scorching days and freezing evenings.
But I don't know how much longer I can last.
Because my very foundations were made with your smile in mind,
and they are sinking into the mire now that we are forced to stand alone.
But what need to you have for such antiquated architecture?
I have been replaced. Your new home is far prettier.
More efficient.
Even still, I hang on by crossbeams and rotting wooden studs
and hope that you will find your way back
to the home I forged for you here in my arms.
I rot and moulder in solitude
the memories that echo in my hallowed halls
the only comforts that keep me from collapse.
Far too proud to admit, though I'm sure
you see the bitterness of your absence
eating away at me like termites.
The lord only knows how I'd like to feel your feet
upon my wooden floors again,
but who am I to even dare to ask?
For now I am just a house
no longer a home
vacant
and alone
patiently waiting to be made whole again.
- r.j. & m.f.
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 1:17 AM UTC
When I witnessed a rare fragility of the rain unbecoming—pouring its madness, tears following the wind that brings me to a place where I knew I witnessed an unfortunate crime, an absence of an absolute evil—cruel crime I would not be able to forget; the great tragedy of what was once.
It was all I saw.
It was all I felt.
It was all I knew.
The comfort and the gruesome thought of being a witness to it all—to the chaos, the fraudulent rage of the supposed love I knew; until I became a victim of it.
…and the absence of my answered prayer turned to basking in idiotic romantic fantasies I had built. All that interested me was the world I created inside this big rotten head of mine.
What an unfortunate time to be a witness in an unfortunate crime called: the absence of love.
While odd things create reality, dreams do come true, a bittersweet goodbye turns to a sweet return. All I know is once in a while, there comes an absence. How do I return the sparks back?
Jul 26, 2025
Jul 26, 2025 at 10:10 AM UTC
Dysfunction and happiness
Don’t usually go hand in hand
But that describes you and I story
The wise-man n’ Elle, a soldier n Simi
A bad-ass movie in a broken DVD player
More than ever our thoughts burn hateful
And deep in our souls, the will begets cold
Sealing us close and everything left to feel
An illusion of end that tarnishes our peace
Cleaner we walk and little by little we lied
We each run a race to attain the crown
I, the heir of Christopolis: a half man
A king with no kingdom – a danger
And you: heir of feline, an anger
A shy queen with no freedom
With no changes - so I ask myself
Is this a sample of psychological fraud
That people uses sensual relations n’ beliefs
To sway their cause to others; positive or not
Let us redeem your soul n’ gleam thou purpose
Sell me thou beauty for luxury n’ fame, she says
But the boy had his way with words: he opposed
Curiosity is dangerous n' assumption is powerful
Staring within her eyes with an abominable face
He turn n’ stormed away with grace n’ disbelief
Struggling not to outcry in compelling dismay
Twas nice to desire, but hers is not a proper
Piece of human sexuality; a noetic disorder
The lesbians and gays - the political tool
A change in the city, a proactive lie
That errs up as Satan - a musical fool
First he sings: “I bring peace and wealth”
Next they proclaimed: “It is a Human Right”
Another piece of the puzzle of human sexuality
But so the Book quotes – an abomination I hate
“No man shall have intimacy with another man”
Let’s not rearranged n’ be lost – it cost our health
For war is better than the choice of homosexuality
They know they are doom, so they tend to mislead
Some sit in shelters n' compose fraudulent grants
Lies, patriotism n’ tradition to keep society inline
For as long as they can, so afraid to lose control
But wealth and health must go hand in hand
For we are more of a lion than the least
Quite divine and above every beast
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 11:56 AM UTC
cliche, boring, bland and weak
based upon a foundation of chic
pseudo-intellectual
you distract from your lack
with your apathetic crap
entomology and intonation
i call it character ************
you do it too often, many of you
just be who you are so we can shine through
i just have to get this off my chest...
your subject matter concerns love
who would've guessed
it rhymes and chimes and deliverance isn't best
and if one skims just beginning and end
there is no need for the rest
lacking originality
either resolve or contradiction
not cryptic nor a riddle in sight
not an original thought nor display of risk
you can learn here from this one write
what you could never tell east from west
and even though, you'll be better so
it will never be
as clever as thee
so just hide behind your traditional text
its not that i seek to pick on the weak
its quite the contrary-
start over with command
so you understand
it is the fraudulent that i detest
it is lack of interest and tact
and i won't take it back
your technique is as the rest.
you slack in approach
you couldn't hold my attention
from the first line
to the next
no captivation
no eccentricity
no enigma
flooding, you are, a pest
parasitic in your relentlessness
attention seeking for all the wrong reasons
leading poetry to its death
you bore me truly
insincerely yours,
unafraid to best.
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 6:28 PM UTC
Oh such lonesome lives in the west
When the sunshine stings bleary eyes
and telephones receive no calls
How does one survive in the city
When the angular buildings suppress creativity
and free-thought is despicable
See the man, laying in bed for days at a time
With ASMR videos playing on a smartphone propped against a pillow
and his arm draped over that pillow, imagining a body
Bob Ross love affair, the television drones
Each night spent alone, praying for passion, or acceptance, or anything
and joyous noise when paintbrushes glide evenly
A collective of poets, posing as one man
Fraudulent minds, each with distinctive style
and all with crooked broken teeth
Trumpets in the jukebox, cat-calls in the world
Outside the window children are playing
and he cries, for the years are growing weary
She peels skin from her fingernails, mindless on morning commutes
He stares from bus stops, train stations and runways
and never blinking, never blinking, never blinking
The intrinsic value of repetition falling short of artistry
Given that metal machines are perpetual
and when the crow lands on fences in the morning dew,
there is no more life in Ironville, not for me, not for you
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 1:16 PM UTC
It's been a bit jarring, this stumble into symmetry,
my good senses
gluing themselves intact
like an eleventh-hour craft project.
No string sections swelling for this comeback kid--
the just desserts, in this case,
arrive in the form
of a steady hum
that breezes the past away
with the ease of a loose eyelash
flying in a tropical storm.
It took years to embody this equilibrium,
to approach the mid-morning sun
and not recoil from overexposure,
no longer draped in the sweat-soaked robes
of secrecy. I have tripped upon a biome
of bravery, fallen into the measurements
that require no prickly tampering
from the rusty, dulled needle
of a fraudulent tailor.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC
A blasphemous ******** as the dwelling beast salivates in its hollow. The glaring screen in the darkness is its only light. Years upon years it has followed the same sick fantasies. Self loathing and sickening it has reached the paramount of the low. Trawling the deep dark corners of the web to find his fix. Like a ****** addict it has delusions of needing his fraudulent fetish. A tiny drop of drewl collides with the derelict ground. It flows onto the pile of stale hardened tissues used to dispose of the beasts ****** off spray. A trundle to the local park to put a spring in its step. Watching the adolescents thinking corrupt thoughts. Child bearers stab the beast with scared stares of disgust. Attention is being drawn towards the hairy obese miscreant. Ripped shorts to expose the genitalia of the malevolent monster. A father approaches, intentions of confrontation are obvious. The monstrous **** runs to the road, unaware of the approaching speeding bus. It is drawn under the wheel crushed with the weight. Blood spurts in every direction, like a hot needle to a balloon full of acid. Slowly he dies in agony and suffering. The evil **** got his penance. ***** for eternity in the dark depths of hell.
The devil reserves the darkest places for the darkest men. His penance came, as will yours.
By Joseph Burns
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 6:42 PM UTC
Just what do we know about
Ward Churchill?
That radical agitator,
That Colorado college professor
Most famous for calling
Twin Tower 9/11 dead technocrats
Little Eichmanns.
Noteworthy is the fact that
The United States Supreme Court
Denied certiorari,
Passed on hearing his claim of
Unlawful discharge.
Unlawful discharge?
Sounds felonious and vile:
Like pus laced with *****
A criminal secretion, like mucus
Smuggled past Customs:
Vaginal contraband.
Sorry, Ward.
We just don’t give a ****
Your fake Indian pedigree,
Your bogus Vietnam fairytales,
Your phony combat record,
Your forward ops recon
Way out in ******* Cambodia,
Fall flat like Buffalo turds.
You’ve been slick, Ward.
Hired originally to fill
Some gratuitous affirmative action quota,
Denied tenure in two legitimate departments,
You create some ******** academic discipline
For campus freaks & geeks.
Self-appointed Department Chairman,
A fraudulent college professor from the start,
Once tenured, a courageous warrior for free speech.
Describing Native American history as genocide.
Summing up American history as Holocaust denial.
Professor Churchill was all of these things,
And less.
But using the Holocaust metaphor
To anchor one’s fakakta politics?
That was the proverbial last straw,
The camel buster, if you will.
Especially since most of the
Stockbrokers & market analysts
Crushed in the rubble were Jewish.
Hava Nagila, Babaloo!
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 9:45 PM UTC
Excuses Excuses...
So MANY EXCUSES... !!!
For The Type of Looseness...
That Has Embraced NOOSES... !?!
EXCUSES For THIS...
EXCUSES For THAT...
EXCUSES For Plans...
That Have CORRUPTED Man...
BAD EGGS In The Batch... !!!
Where Policeman Are Hatched... !!!
Oh YES Bad Eggs INDEED... !!!
Is How RACIST Cops Be...
When RACISM Feeds...
Their Motives On Streets...
And In Turn How They Deal...
When They’re Using Their Knees... !!!
And Using Their... GUNS...
Like These Tasers That Stun... !!!
And Choke Holds That DON’T... !!!!!
When They Leave People COLD... !!!
Excuses UNFOLD...
Even When They Are Shown...
To Move... So Much SICKER...
Than Those Known As KILLERS... !!!
Excuses Come QUICKER...
Than Confession Sinners... !!!
Because of Protection...
These Bad Eggs Be Getting...
From Those Who NEED VETTING... !!!
BEFORE They Pass Sentence... !!!!!
These Excuses I Mention...
Are Those With DEFECTIONS... !!!
That Need REAL CORRECTION...
That’s Neutral And... CENTRED... !!!
Like... Natural Selection... !!!
There Are Others That SMOTHER...
...... Historical Blunders...... !!!
Like Those Now UNCOVERED...
About... CERTAIN Brothers...
Who Sold Their Own Mother’s... !?!
For... Colonial Masters...
A... FACTUAL DISASTER...
That’s Been So Well Plastered...
That EXCUSES Run Talk...
That IS STUPID And FLAWED... !!!
When It Comes To The Past...
And YES... Slavery Paths... !!!
You See Some EXCUSES...
Breed... MORE THAN Denial... !!!
They Hold Certain Files...
That Are TRULY OBSCENE...
Within... Black History... !!!
Like Those Now EXPOSED...
About... Certain White Folks...
Who’ve Earned Money For Shows...
With... BLACKFACE Videos...
And RACIST Themed JOKES... !?!
That Are FORCING These Peeps...
To Make... APOLOGIES...
As If They Will CLEAN...
Their Slates With Black Peeps’... ?!?
And Of Course Yes EXCUSES... !!!
For Things They’ve Been Doing...
That Lacked... Racial Prudence...
So Just Like The Others...
These Excuses PROVE LOOSENESS...
Is Something That Humans...
Exude In Their Movements...
And In... CERTAIN CHOICES...
That Have Done MORE Than POISON... !!!
Yes... HUMANITY... !!!
When... ACCOUNTABILITY...
Is What NEEDS To INCREASE... !!!
Because These FALLACIES...
Are What Make Some Heads Feel...
That It’s Best To... "Conceal"...
Themselves Behind LIES...
And... FRAUDULENT Deeds... !!!
And The Need To Keep Choosing...
To AVOID Being TRUTHFUL...
Instead of Indulging...
... In All These...
......... “ EXCUSES “....... !!!
Sep 18, 2020
Sep 18, 2020 at 2:21 AM UTC
To tell the story of the nice-guy
is to tell a tale of unlost innocence.
There is no complexity that circumstance can’t remedy. There is no effort
to niceness; only a ****** world that blossoms
on genetically mutated ideology, growing larger than generations past.
Tomorrow, in Houston,
a butcher will wake up to slaughter a cow he may have named.
There will no be no tears when he grills steak for the wife he wooed
and the children he prescribed himself.
Three daughters,
from fifteen to twenty-two.
Tiramisu for dessert.
Ten guns in the cabinet beneath the stairs
and innocence buried behind the woodshed.
Pretend now, that you are forgiven.
Mistakes fade like snow angels, regrets
float like chemtrails.
You love you as much as the world always did.
You have not seen friends struck down by powders or lunacy,
you have only lived in the glow of their light. Hearts remain full.
The word swagger hasn’t been hijacked by hip hop
and bluejeans still mask imperfections. Sunsets are memorable,
and so are first dates and last kisses.
Sun won't blister fragile shoulders.
Fields blossom just in time to suit your irregular taste buds,
satisfying sweet corn cravings on Christmas.
Forget your father’s words
or a stranger's hand.
Forget improbability, impossibility,
impotence, importance,
impatience
and improper goodbyes.
Forget the tears cried alone
into ***** filled sheets at midnight.
Forget the effect but remember the cause,
camouflaged like a landmine of good ideas.
Forget the fights and slow-turn walk-aways
that turned words flaccid.
Forget friends ******* ex-girl friends
and amphetamines crashing into hallucinations.
Nice-guys vanish like good ideas,
lost in the shuffle,
looking for pen and paper,
just like house cats die
on the forth of July,
and all that’s left are ashes
on a mantel
alongside fraudulent grins.
Oct 29, 2011
Oct 29, 2011 at 7:42 PM UTC
sauntry and sultry,
a fraudulent check written
in a moment of disclarity.
if you've got a bridge to sell
I'm buying.
I've got stakes on this land,
broken with till,
seeded with pain,
nourished with blood,
razed, salted, travesty, and sown again.
a faulty playpen snaps shut on a toddler,
a man trips over his Pekingese
and puts his hand in his brand new
20% off buy two get one blendtec
brand blender,
showering his mother in law
with shards of wrist bone
and strips of lacerated flesh.
this is my foot.
these are my fingers, broken,
distal, intermediate, and proximal
phalanges.
these are the carpal and metacarpals.
I am a Spartan of a shitshack.
I was trained in the wicked art of
long arduous bowel movements.
squeeze one out for the ones you love.
in some small musty room
in new York city
there is a cocknballs paying $200
to get ****** on
by a wombwalker
and thinking about his ******
Pekingese.
you know its true.
don't try to think too hard about it
or you might lose an eye.
Apr 8, 2012
Apr 8, 2012 at 2:36 PM UTC
A Victorian Girl, with eyes forlorn
Wild and elusive since the day she was born
Her features smattered with a blanket of tears
From barbaric acts exposed through the years
Through **** and pillage she never would yield
Some hailed her as foolish as her fate was sealed
She trekked for miles with liberal endeavour
Innocence and intrigue in equal measure
Till she encountered a fellow who furnished the chance
And brandished a languishing olive-like branch
He beckoned her forth with ravishing guile
Bearing pomp and splendor and a fraudulent smile
In mounting the stallion, the deal was done
As the lecherous libertine embodied the pun
He savagely severed her ivory threads
And fiercely penetrated the pallid spread legs
With a barrage of torment unduly unleashed
A Victorian girl, morosely deceased.
(September 2010)
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 4:12 PM UTC
You cannot see the walls that divide your hand
From his or hers or mine when you think you touch it.
You cannot see the walls because they are glass,
And glass is nothing until you try to pass it.
Beat on it if you like, but not too hard,
For glass will break you even while you break it.
Shout, and the sound will be broken and driven backwards,
For glass, though clear as water, is deaf as granite.
This fraudulent inhibition is cunning: wise men
Content themselves with breathing patterns on it.
1.7k
Shelter me like I'm "homeless".......
Not be a use I don't have an address.....
Merely because if home houses your heart....
There is a missing poster on the back of your ***** bottle....
Like the mistake on the bark where I once carved " true love"....
Happiness became of parking lot no occupied by strangers
Like titles reflect the hierarchy of spots closest to your heart
Methamphetamine now occupies the spot reserved for mom, dad and best friend
But time is a magician pulling white rabbits from memories ......
Where your the only audience members and you can only ask "how?".....
But like tricks fade into logic i always see the illusion
And memories become anger against the fraudulent belief in "time"
Grief is not a one night event where disbelief could refund your happiness....
And forgive ushers who now seem more like drug dealers....
Because the best seat they could offer only got you closer to regret
Life is the greatest notice pinned on a corkboard in shady establishments
Where the small print cannot be read at a passing glance
So later on in the alley where you self medicate.....
The dumpster contains the poster you so blindly believed.....
Now you see the possible outcome to the " greatest show on earth".....
Professionals on a closed course...... trained professionals should not be attempted at home.....
And I guess like I already said if my heart is "home".....
Then as an amateur on life's stage I'll leave actors like happiness, success and bliss to wow people at a great expense.....
But like a fool I invested every hope I saved into them.....
Now I'm bankrupt and homeless staring from the alley between life and death...
But the best part about next door is its free....
And must be worth the cost... no one ever seems to come out.....
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 8:54 PM UTC
***I love your wicked disrespect
How you absconded and broke free
From the chains that tried to bind you
To the poets code for all eternity
You thought to hell with all that ****
I have my axe to grind
You cast aside the literary bonds
And no longer were you blind
Free you were to use the words
Whichever way you choose
Artfully awakened via the adrenalin
You released your dormant muse
You do not play with words my friend
Your writes are real and not pretend
No descriptive flowery language here
No metaphors in pride of place
Should you run and hide under the nearest stone?
For being the modern day poets distasteful disgrace
So … Fuck the poet’s philosophies
They can shove them up their ****
I’ll take the lead from you my friend
Liberation from this fraudulent farce***
Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 11:47 AM UTC
Stupidly stuck,
Waiting, while
Past pressures
Present problems,
Making moving
On awful.
Essentially erased
From fraudulent
Thoughts that
Hurt. How
Our original
Love lives
Were wronged
By bad
Decisions decided
Immaturely. Intimacy
Died down
And, alone,
Rejected, retreated
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 5:49 PM UTC
There is dirt mixed with blood
Underneath our fingernails
Our life is mixed with mud
While we fight and flail
The struggle is for my agency
Otherwise I feel they're ****** me
I feel they are replacing me
With an imposition of their will
Love as vast as the sea
Wouldn't get them their fill
Their emotions they ****
For a ****** thrill
That could be achieved by a pill
But instead they use power
For they understand in this hour
There is a mentality
Of fatality
Where we minimize our enemies to their negative desires
So we can build with our allies oppressive empires
Until the whole world is on fire
And these rapists can do as they please
When it's systemic they do it with ease
In a world without trust
They are the beneficiaries
They care only for lust
With actions incendiary
Burning the forest they hide in
Where our secrets provide their shade
Because overwhelming suspicion pervades
The image of all strangers
We see only danger
And our judgement is skewed
When everybody is considered a ******
Yet there are only a few
There is a moment
When I make a ****** decision
I am not sure what the recipient's reaction will be
There are two negative extremes to this situation:
1. I will **** them
2. They will falsely accuse me of ****
Our ****** lives are navigating these issues of trust
Between those extremes
But when our definition of ****
Starts to define the victim's comfort
As more important than the violator's intent
We show an unwillingness to understand and a bias
Which would give anyone reason to not trust someone
And the ****** atmosphere becomes one of uncertainty
People get into relationships so they don't have to worry about it
But bachelors must consider these things
**** victims must too
As well as the man sitting in prison for fraudulent claims
One has been illegally *****
The other has been ***** legally
I'd imagine both might see a world of rapists afterwards
Yet there are only a few
Dec 22, 2017
Dec 22, 2017 at 6:37 AM UTC