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Kagey Sage Aug 2020
Let's pretend we can enjoy the world's decadence
like the oblivious do
Let's do chaos magick
to make our dreams come true
and grow closer together as
the monkey claw closes too soon
and we sit on a pile of
decade old what-if situations
stamped down by unintended consequences
Let's cash in our paltry spoils
and toast to loving fate
Here's to staying together
just for the story
We used to say: predictable, finally
Now we're thinking: routine, help me
The wheel's spinning so fast
it's a blur
Sameness
We're shamans of samsara
cautioning against becoming gods
Fear change
but can you please spare some?
I forestalled enlightenment
just to help you all become
one mushy blob
and now I'm bored

I'm not uptight  
I'm just a bodhisattva
waiting to die so I can leave this world
Wish someone would just give me some spoiled food
so I'll be done for good

When life gives you rotten produce
make banana ***
'Cause it's no use sitting
and ******* about
how our world isn't another one
Drink up
store extra slurp in your tum
Make society so no one's starving
and the kids can have some fun
___________________

­**** your pie factories in the clouds
Bulldoze churches to build parks and playgrounds
Make it illegal for stores to throw food in dumpsters
just so some homeless guy will learn
how to fish in a desert sandstorm
caused by industrial emissions
that our overlords refuse to pick up
themselves or even pay the bill for

You bamboozled fools
just want to watch subliminal *****
on your shiny screens
all to trick you into drinking the
venomous ***** milk from plastic straws
It's all the slaw that the marketers peddle
Indecipherable hacked bits
your mind fractionalized
and trained to keep coming back to bliss
The endorphin kick of these brainwashing clips
Can't read anymore cause I got
a worse attention span than a goldfish
Me and Skipper tried to save the Minnow
but she was no match
for the ocean
Now we're stuck on an island
where we don't even consider
the headhunters human

I forgot what we ought to do
I keep ******* up the signal fires
and coconut powered sonar systems
'Cause I look all around
and all I wanna do is clock the Professor
cause we're fighting over Ginger
It doesn't take a brain surgeon
to season your oil
and if you forget
the vegetarian oyster sauce
can it even still be considered a stir fry, smart guy?

**** it
let's just eat the octogenarian and his wife
'cause I read a study that said
the rich would willingly give up their life
for the economy
Last I checked, sand dollars aren't tasty
so your bone marrow's much more valuable
than your bullion and Nasdaq arrows
Kahara Jones Nov 2012
We've got an old way
of working things out
and an old life
(we are young, sister)
though you say we're young
(I never lie)
but how could we be
since that old dusty memory
is clear…. clear… clear
(ah, yes, you see we're young)

And I didn't say I didn't care
I just want to forget...
and would heaven
be at our door
if it never had happened
(Is that a question?)
well why did it happen?
just to us
(just to us, both of us)

When I am home
I get shivers
and cold feet
as they touch
where he had fallen
and you are out drinking
(I am always here)
as I am sinking
and the fat ugly droplets won't fall
they're weak things tugging at my scalp
if they fall, I can rest
(you sleep better than me)
I want them gone
but my skin is a cage is a desert
(darling, face it.  You have dry eyes and a messed-up conscience-)
and whatever tries to seep out
evaporates into nothingness
why had this happened to me?
(you mean us, you silly girl)

What can come from tragedy-
this is no blessing in disguise
(it was bound to happen)
and your eyes are that of an old man's
(our eyes.  Looked into the mirror recently?  I think not)
yes we are older than him now
headhunters gather strength in their victims
we gather age
(we are young, don't lie to us)
chained together by skin
(bound together is a better word)
invisible to the eyes of others
you sit, ghostlike in the bar
(I haven't had a drink in years!)
Sometimes coming back to the skin we share
you are my sister
my blind spot
(the intelligent side, come to think of it)
the dirt on my tongue
which I haven't found a way to spit out yet
you crunch under my teeth
(you are the dirt, the whiner, the pessimist
the man was a worthless criminal.
I saw him dreaming of us.
and I cannot digest his foul thoughts,
I knew him better than you
I saved our life.)
Kahara Jones Jan 2013
We've got an old way
of working things out
and an old life
(we are young, sister)
though you say we're young
(I never lie)
but how could we be
since that old dusty memory
is clear…. clear… clear
(ah, yes, you see we're young)

And I didn't say I didn't care
I just want to forget...
and would heaven
be at our door
if it never had happened
(Is that a question?)
well why did it happen?
just to us
(just to us, both of us)

When I am home
I get shivers
and cold feet
as they touch
where he had fallen
and you are out drinking
(I am always here)
as I am sinking
and the fat ugly droplets won't fall
they're weak things tugging at my scalp
if they fall, I can rest
(you sleep better than me)
I want them gone
but my skin is a cage is a desert
(darling, face it.  You have dry eyes and a messed-up conscience-)
and whatever tries to seep out
evaporates into nothingness
why had this happened to me?
(you mean us, you silly girl)

What can come from tragedy-
this is no blessing in disguise
(it was bound to happen)
and your eyes are that of an old man's
(our eyes.  Looked into the mirror recently?  I think not)
yes we are older than him now
headhunters gather strength in their victims
we gather age
(we are young, don't lie to us)
chained together by skin
(bound together is a better word)
invisible to the eyes of others
you sit, ghostlike in the bar
(I haven't had a drink in years!)
Sometimes coming back to the skin we share
you are my sister
my blind spot
(the intelligent side, come to think of it)
the dirt on my tongue
which I haven't found a way to spit out yet
you crunch under my teeth
(you are the dirt, the whiner, the pessimist
the man was a worthless criminal.
I saw him dreaming of us.
and I cannot digest his foul thoughts,
I knew him better than you
I saved our life.)
Strangerous Jul 2023
The man who died
in the Bornean jungle
dropped his mind
in a nylon pack.

“Call me mad,
but here I am.
Don’t expect me
home again.”

It carefully drifted
down the river
he’d labored up
a learned explorer.

“Children -- love --
wife too ...
Mud -- bugs --
headhunters --”

He did us honor if
only because
he said what he could
from where he was.
© 1989 by Jack Morris
She was the last of her kind
black carded for the headhunters
it was a race to whom would get the hit
poor Chariot was in deep ****

Most were armed to the nines
for Chariot was a clever monkey
her hit list was of kings and queens
she was a formidable opponent

Faster than light
one of the fighter elite
a killer most complete
trained well in the art of war
I called her Babylons *****

This was going to be ******
killer on killer rules
taking her out
oh my god was a sweet pleasure

Poor Chariot did not have a chance
I took out five others of mine just to get to her first
I wanted that pinned to my rapture
as I hated her more than most to capture

No headshot for her
I took her out classically
hanging on a lamppost
upsidedown naked as born


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Yenson Sep 2020
They are headhunters without heads

mindfuckers with little minds

but most of all

they are thoughtless imbeciles

with invisible thoughts

which only them can see

they are the clowns of clowns

— The End —