"heartlessness" poems
you sowed this **** into my brain...
why do you even "think"
that i want... you?
i, want your children...
the meme-mutation is what i'm
after...
and there are plenty of useful idiots
to allow me to process
the intermediating processes
for: the sigma, "accomplishment";
which is unlike
what infected mushroom's -
trance party track sounds like,
outside of my own head.
why do these people even
think i'm after their genes
of memes?
i want, their infantile
replicas...
i want to craft a
worthwhile curiosity,
on a canvas, that that they call
their gene replicas, children,
and... like why called me...
easy meat..
einfachfleisch...
what?
i'm not here for these news' anchors...
i'm here for their children...
nibble nibble nibble chew chow
cow tow and main...
prawn crackers...
ah... news anchors are
easy targets...
slightly pointless
20x bulls eye honing devices...
it's their children...
i want their children...
i want their cognition
to become replica of wheelchair
bound infirmaries;
why?
oh... you know...
football and wrestling,
given the Qatar investment plan...
the whole sport "thing"
became a tad bit boring...
had to resort to secondary sources
of entertainment;
children of news anchors?
the secondary, "last",
albeit, the best resort;
schindler...
required a list,
to become reincarnated...
and revive a **** a heartlessness
of an reincarnation
anomaly:
i.e.: what, a limited number
of people, to begin with?!
so the rest is primitive "a.i."?
now i'm starting to think...
thank the blue indians
for their culinary innovations...
but when it comes
to their theology?
**** 'em;
did i advocate that?
if i did... within what pronoun
guarantee of advocacy?
playing the grammar card...
which pronoun?
the plural singular,
or the singular plural,
or the gender neutral?
thank you jean-paul sartre,
for the... "i"...
i simply love, this revised concept
of a unit...
the revision clinging
to the royalist affirmation of pronouns...
i.e. 1 would say... so...
and 1... would, so, will, do so.
**** the pronoun debate
in Canadian politics...
if i have to resort to this?
then i will...
like your plain citizen...
may "i" speak within
the confines, of the royal, one,
given the example:
one might suppose...
to be the former, and the current,
highest, etiquette?
gender neutrality of pronouns...
last time i checked...
one was never allowed
pronoun stature...
why not address this
conundrum, to begin with?!
oh, right... too late...
too many loud mouths
without a guillotine...
so, basically, a cow fart's
worth of argumentation.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 11:51 PM UTC
They talk, don't listen
Don't listen, for what they say isn't true
Their heartlessness can't break us
It's not your fault
They don't see
What I see in you
Set petty judgments aside
Your value is insurpassable,
Undeniable.
Your tenderness against my tongue
Tender, but never too sweet,
Almost bitter.
No sugar coated lies
Just fresh and raw.
Honest and genuine,
You provide what I need.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 1:30 AM UTC
Walk with legs that do not buckle ,
not anymore.
Can you stand now ?
Can you stand on two feet , falling through the space between rest stops ,
pavements eating footsteps up , vibrations miss the point...
......that earth already has a floor !
Can you stand now?
Walk with legs that do not buckle.
With loving hands , i float a paper boat down the stream.
Folded from a sheet of thin lined a4 ,
covered in my frustration, in my self hate , in my wishful thinking of stories never come true , smothered in my silent sighs , etched with the tear stained wisdom soaked tale of hearts growing.
Melded together , tied up in past karma , future favors..... we grew ,
in a dance , letting go of hands then drifting , as if we were floating in space , spiraling far from each other , our minds a better solace then those around us.
Sometimes it would spill over , bubble into a brew around my feet , embarrass me with my heart all too feeling. A bad taste lolls on my tongue , from words i wish i had spoken , fear whispering things into my ears, noises of bad deeds imaginary.
I'm not supposed to tell you that someone helped heal me , much more than any others...
I'm supposed to have done it all myself.
But he stays
he stays, after seeing aspects i could barely show to myself they rung with such hollow heartfelt heartlessness.
Misguided identity fraud , is the name of this game.
I've offered plenty of times
"leave when you need to.... i know i can be too much"
shhh he says.
With loving hands , where all experience still sits engraved in skin,
i'll tell you a secret,
the boat never floats away.
But joins all the others , bunched up
on a strand of DNA.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 10:42 PM UTC
There Is Only One Race,
The Race Of Reality
There Is Only One Race,
The Race Of Humanity,
Someone's Color Does Not Bother Me,
It Is There Heart That Matters,
They Could Have Skin White As Can Be,
But A Heart That Is Black And Battered
Race Does Not Exsist,
It Was Made By Humans To Create Control,
I Could Be Racist,
But The Only I Color I Judge Is That Of Ones Soul,
I Don't Mind A Headdress,
It's Simply Just Clothes,
Im Tired Of Peoples Heartlessness,
Over What Someome Else Chose,
If Someone Speaks Another Language,
That Is Fine With Me,
English Is Average,
With Words I Don't Know All I Hear Is Beauty
You Should See The Beams Of Hatred,
Towards Anyone Of A Differnet Color,
Good Friendships Wasted,
Or Maybe Even A Lover,
I Don't See Myself As White,
I Don't See Myself A Caucasian,
I Don't See My Self As Light,
I Dont See Myself As American,
All I See Is Who I Am Inside,
I Wish Other People Could See It Too,
I Wish People Could Confinde,
In The Person Inside Of You,
Behind All The Clothes,
Behind All The Skin,
Or Whatever Comes And Goes,
Just The Person With In,
I'm Not A Hippie I'm Just Saying,
People Should Ignore The Faces,
And See What's So Amazing,
Ignore The Races,
And Stop All This Creating
Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 8:19 PM UTC
The fabric of my life is a tapestry
Woven together with tragedy
There are black threads of loneliness
Blue threads of sadness
Red threads of the angriness
Yellow threads for my minds sickness
Orange threads for craziness
Purple for my madness
Gray threads for deeds of heartlessness
Pink threads for those rare moments of tenderness
Of course there is clear, see through thread for the emptiness
Now look really close, fine little silver threads can be found of happiness
As well as shiny bright golden threads of hopfulness
It's what holds it all togeather
So no matter what storm I must weather
My beautifully tragic tapestry will be wrapped tight around me
The picture in the end will be so wonderfully sad and beautiful, it will make your eye's tear just to see
Your mind will have trouble comprehending how something so sad and tragic
Can create something so darkly beautiful, it seems like magic
It's because I've lived in the dark so long
I've learned to see beauty were it seems to not belong
Out of place and wrong
But in the darkness the silver and gold threads shine so bright
You would of never even seen them in the light
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 2:20 PM UTC
Growing up,
They tell you all about how the world will
surprise you,
as you grow
older and
how cruel life can
be and how heartless
people can be.
What is more important is what they
don’t
tell you; about how you will surprise
yourself-
With the things you do,
incredible things-
the things you make,
but also your ability
to destroy-
and that, though your intentions may be pure,
you will
cause pain to others.
that you,
yes, you,
you yourself,
will have moments of heartlessness
and selfishness
and cruelty.
And that
is what it means
to be
human.
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
this morning I awoke to find little lettered squares imprinted across the side of my face,
then didst I realize, that cyber space had finally done its number on me
slither slather blither blather slobbering cyber chopper
knee-jerk hackneyed pavlovian dog speak of impetuous heartlessness
stereotyping label blasting categorizing pigeon-holing generalizing
multi tasking bifurcating bloviating palaver, ever clingy maudlin inflamed impassioned souls
trolling the myriad disparate windows looking for some misbegotten stimulus
so invested in their hatred and fear that peace is the most threatening thing they can imagine ------ and me?
the sneering cynical maladroit among the masses of averageness and mediocrity...
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 9:34 PM UTC
Oh sister,
growing fiercely from between the cracks of those
big city sidewalks
I know you love the new-found
sparkle on your pointed shoulder,
your shoulder now chiseled by a place
rough and dripping glamor,
you have been gobbled up by
a culture booming and
ravenous for new blood
you have been swept away and intoxicated
by the strangeness and the newness and the heartlessness
of that place.
but don't forget us girl,
we
your family of
patient prairie dwellers
don't forget this humble, ***** city,
this heartsoil
these winters are what
made you so strong
big city baby
don't forget our cold season
the way the winter hems us in
and
forces us to
make art and get real
the way that
our faces grow white,
eyes grow dark and humble,
hands curl and stiffen
clenching at nothing for months
the way these hearts and souls,
nestled in ghost orchid flesh,
nestled in snow,
grow fat and red blooming carelessly
like the open mouths
of winter flowers
Nov 10, 2010
Nov 10, 2010 at 6:22 PM UTC
Sensitivity
I’m a bruise
Not one thing
Could excuse
The pain I’ve felt
The blows you’ve dealt
The heartlessness
That left me crying.
Aug 1, 2011
Aug 1, 2011 at 1:59 PM UTC
shatterproof smiles
like nineteen sixties plastic american sunshine
on the faded walls
if it was something a "la la la la" song could solve
then he wouldn't be up all night
pacing the hall wringing his clammy hands
whispering over and over
that we have come as far as we can hope to
how can i get you that one step further
shatterproof smiles
look great but they have no love
look super-duper on t.v.
but they wont be there in your darkest hour
but he waits for her
a good egg his mom always said
cause thats what they promised him
a perfect girl with a shatterproof smile
a perfect painting of plastic sunshine
a glittering prize
an empty space behind bright blue eyes
she is one of them
her glory ***** scrapbook
is filled with the blood traces of those
she has severed from their loved ones
and it smells of hard dirt
it smells of unquenchable thirst
she is now years behind me
and so is the monster she choose to be
shes a fast song now
feet too swift to spend a maidens moments
tarrying over the bouquets of roses at graveside
too swift to shed a tear for the children left behind
too swift to see the cost of her heartlessness
a fast song to spin the mind from the hearts ache
from the souls vanquish
i am alone on the long empty street
i see her as a wave of destruction approaching
over the miles and years
and nothing looks more lonely to me
nothing looks more void of humanity
than the look in her eye
i left you behind years ago
monster with perfect shatterproof smiles
and you will never never know what my answer was
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 1:13 AM UTC
For wind that shine
And sadist lights
Burning in the cold
Show me where the witch thoughts be
And what the story knows
For wind that shine
For wind that shine
Heart and feeling’s guiding light
Where it blows; from where it goes
Mysterious delight
And sadist lights
And sadist lights
Shimmer pain upon our eyes
Burning through the cold and dark
Smolder Muse and wise
Witch thoughts be
Witch thoughts be
Describe what taunts we note
Harboring blood-hungry thoughts
Leave where no one goes
The story knows
Our story knows
Painting hearty words
Not unaware of heartlessness
Love-wonders in one’s world
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 2:28 PM UTC
Gnawing, that’s what you do
All of you
Dogs teeth on a bone
Mauling
Tearing
Shredding
Razorsharp
Gleam in the eye of the night
Blood stained fangs
Sink into your heart
Rip it apart
Smile
Woman
I am man’s best friend.
Everywhere.
Can’t escape
These Hounds
Fur caked with the blood of
The wounded and dead
***** Depraved Heartless Creature
You live in the shadows
Licking your teeth waiting for prey
Because it is only meat you crave
And the smell of it makes you raw with power
You are not noble, not high, not to be trusted
How many innocents have been betrayed
With your hollow words
The sudden flash of your knife
Your cold vicious stabbing
That says
I will love you over and over
With my dagger buried to its hilt while you cling
To my whisper
Until you trust nothing, believe nothing are nothing
You will be a rag doll of emptiness when I have taken
All from you.
And then my pack will come
pack after pack after pack
each like me
And you will be swallowed in the fury
Of my heartlessness
I am man’s best friend
And you are only
Woman
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 1:51 AM UTC
This is the tale of a girl
Only seven years old
Who came here from Guatemala.
Let her story be told.
Jakelin Caal Maquin
Came here with her dad
With hopes of seeking asylum,
Before everything went bad.
People seeking refuge
Are dangerously exposed
To inhumane conditions
When ports of entry are closed.
Through the desert they wandered
With others of the same mind
Seeking a place of safety
And leaving danger behind.
At least that's what they hoped for.
They hadn't had a clue
That cruelty existed
Here in America, too.
When they turned themselves in,
It's said that father and daughter
For several wearisome days
Hadn't had food or water.
The child started having
Seizures, the records show--
A nightmare for the father
Who suffered this tale of woe.
Possible dehydration,--
Doctors later expressed--
Shock and exhaustion led
To cardiac arrest.
A hospital in El Paso
Was where she took her last breath.
A new life was their goal;
What they encountered was death.
The head of the DHS--
Nielsen--places the blame
All on Jakelin's father.
The woman has no shame.
The callous disrespect
Of international law
Regarding asylum seekers
Reveals her major flaw.
Must we blame the victims?
We must ask ourselves why
There aren't better solutions
So more children won't die.
Sorry, Jakelin.
We must apologize
For our officials who thrive
On heartlessness and lies.
-by Bob B (12-15-18)
Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 11:08 AM UTC
Bed ridden..
Heart broken..
Miss spoken...
I've been through it all
And right now
There will be no more...
"Because I can no longer hold up my walls"
I'll Let my walls c r a c k
And s h a t t e r
and c.l.a.t.t.e.r and b r e a k
And then everyone can see
Who I really am, a total mistake...
Not a word will be said, not a tear shed..
As I let emotions leak through, these old worn down bricks..
And wash me out
Leaking my infectious behavior
Draining these betrayed feelings
None of them will be missed..
Maybe then
People like me.. won't have any doubt
Maybe then I can, yell at the top of my lungs with frustration and shout..
"Maybe then"
"My world will change" you tell me
But maybe then..
My stupid ******* heartlessness will come back into range
And then there will be no love
No morsel of respect..
Meeting me I promise you is something to regret
Maybe it's better to be alone..
Maybe it's better to be unloved
Because when you get to know me well...
Push comes to shove
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 2:39 AM UTC
I hear talk, of the cruelty, and heartlessness of humans,
but I see things on a regular basis that disprove this.
There is no cruelty in a childs kiss, the gently caressed cheek
that puts a smile on your face.
But, today I saw the clincher,
a RIP sticker,
for
A Squirrel...
It hit me like a punch made out of "What the ****
I didn't know whether to smile and break into tears,
or shake my head in curmudgeony disbelief.
A memorial sticker for a road ****
Would an animal do such a thing.
I think not. They'd eat the thing
or just as some leave it to rot.
A Road **** memorial sticker
is about the craziest compassionate thing I've seen...
Animals don't memorialize us when we die...
Of course, that's not true.
I remember my dad's old mangy bloodhound...
and how, after he died, she moaned everyday, at the time he used to come home from work.
For weeks she did it, just sitting by the door
and moaning.
Until the sun set,
then she would slink and lie at the foot of his chair..
She died two months later.
And if that isn't mourning I don't know what is.
Maybe animals and humans aren't all that different,
we just mourn differently.
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
Darkness of the patterned cloth,
Roughness of the sheets,
Wakeful wisping washing dreams,
Needless, needless sleep,
"Awake!" and "Awake!",
Alarm clock cries,
Quick and roll,
Avoid demise,
Bright and vivid bleakness seeps,
A coil to neck and chest,
Lost and losing the way it seems,
The serpents war is best,
"Arise!" and "Arise!",
A savior shouts,
Cast off the snake,
Forget your doubts,
Blackness of the inner eye,
Restlessness, heartlessness drives,
Struggle to the surface so close,
Final, dreaded release arrives,
"Sleep." and "Sleep."
The demon chides,
Hold gets tight,
Time he bides,
Sleep, Awake, Arise
Sleep, Awake, Arise
Sleep,
Awake,
Arise.
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 5:34 PM UTC
Take a look at me.
What do you see?
See these scars?
See the pain?
Do you know me?
Or just know what you see.
Because all I ever wanted was you.
But do you hear a word I'm saying?
See me from the surface just like everyone else.
Please be that one who sees me how I see myself.
I don't need anything but the extra attention.
I need you to help me fix my imperfection.
Say you're there for me but there's nothing at all.
Say you'll catch me but just let me fall.
Say you want me but roll the dice.
I'll say "Hold that thought and watch me slice."
A broken mirror.
Shattered glass.
Just like a mirror shows the outside.
Crimson on glass shows the inside.
I see the disaster living within.
Blood stained sleeves to cover the skin.
A broken mirror shows broken reflection.
Blood stained glass shows broken rejection.
To write "I'm sorry" on the glass with blood,
To have the floors red like a flood.
Reflection shows the blood stained note.
Rejection shows the suicide I wrote.
Look into the glass I broke,
Inside my world in darkened smoke.
Just keep looking. See your name?
All carved out in blood I framed.
Fill the pen with blood from the sink,
Another shot down of the suicide I drink
Crimson turns to darken the night,
The pen falls with life out of sight.
Thanks for acting like you were there.
Thanks for pretending like you care.
You being so heartless.
So careless.
To not even look close enough to save a life.
Heartlessness took a life. It's done
Seeing you was like a hit and run.
You took one look at me.
What did you see?
You saw the scars,
But turned away.
You saw the pain,
But let me fade.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 11:25 PM UTC
There are bags under my eyes as heavy as the loads they carry through the streets (I was designed to help them)
It is easier (always) to carry burdens that are not your own
But the more I ask, the more they cling
To those one dollar bills
Fake reputations
The dead men that can't save.
Children play with dead birds in the street
And their parents roll up cigarettes from torn pages of their book of life
(They don't have time to teach their children why the trees sing sometimes)
People walk with their ribcage wide open
(Unashamed of their heartlessness;
unashamed of the slammed doors in our faces)
Sometimes I see the stars and ask myself how many times the moon had to sneeze in order for them to spatter across the sky like that
(People are moved by fear
But I am moved by lifting my legs)
I think I've forgotten who designed it all in the first place.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 4:15 AM UTC
the dog owner neglected
his so called friend
no sustenance to the dog
did he kindly tend
over a period of time
the poor wretch withered away
he took his last panting breath
on a hot summer's day
twas criminal what the dog owner
did foist upon the dog
for his uncaring actions
he deserves a thumping good flog
his heartlessness
truly unforgivable
the dog seemingly to his eye
twas invisible
everyday dogs die
in a state of distress
their owners perpetrating
undeniable cruelness
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 7:21 PM UTC
Let's say a foreign government
Butcher's a U.S. resident
In Istanbul, Turkey, while
You're the U.S. president.
What's more important to you
Is making more money down the line
By maintaining business ties
That NOT even ****** can undermine.
If greed is your primary motive,
You'll justify your point of view
By asking yourself the following question:
What would the current president do?
Let's say certain autocrats
Make dissenters disappear.
You're entranced by how the despots
Maintain their power that you hold dear.
If power is your primary motive,
You'll justify your point of view
By asking yourself the following question:
What would the current president do?
If people desperate for asylum
Come to your border seeking relief,
And you want to show the heartlessness
Of a xenophobic commander in chief,
Then show them that your heartlessness
Can justify your point of view
By asking yourself the following question:
What would the current president do?
If you want to stop an investigation
That possibly looks bad for you,
You can obstruct justice by asking,
What would the current president do?
If you think your unscrupulousness
Allows you to break every taboo,
You've learned a lot from asking yourself,
What would the current president do?
-by Bob B (11-21-18)
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 9:28 AM UTC
Maybe by luck, By chance maybe,As fast as a duck, to my heart it came to be. Though too much for me to **** I decided to let it be.
Separated by milliometers, divided by ductness. Sought and fought by haters, held stronger by heartlessness. Inside bright as stars, outside dull with hollowness. What it says deters and deprives of happiness.
I ran along by fate, to get it to be my mate. Solemnly my pride I ate, and to it I opened my gate. By luck it ****** my bait, and it I managed to get. Though it said to me wait, my fears to it I let. Because I feared to be late, an early bird myself I met. Thanks to my fearful date, undilligently I made it against its hate.
A wired soul, creased heart, a skinned spirit, playing foul, sins fat, found out about it. Serenity bowl, what a flirt. Did I mind it? Offcourse I did. Gabbered heat and thought myself a *** With a mighty haul, i unhooked my love and away I got swift.
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 4:06 AM UTC
What Can A Muslim Woman Be?
Bobbing
On the misogynistic sea
Of inhumanity
Muffled by
Mandatory muteness
Veiled in artless darkness
Horrified by heartlessness
And tasting
A terrible tartness
A gauntlet of confetti stones awaits
The rule breakers
And mistake makers
Equivocation
Or twisted motivation
Can cause a horrid hail
To happen
At any moment
I wonder
What can a Muslim woman be
Sean Hunt Windermere 2016 May
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 6:24 PM UTC
I am tired of the tears when I should be over you
Dealing with the things you said and tasks you didn't do
And you owe me for the millions of tears you made me cry
But you in all your heartlessness will keep me where I lie
I am sick of the touch that whispered sweeter lies to me
Bu I can't say it's all your fault since I chose to fall so eagerly
I would say some wise thing of love and loss but this, dear, was not love at all
And oh how I despise myself for wanting to answer when you call
I am weary of the faults which you showed my naked eyes
The worthlessness you showed to someone who once shared your bluest skies
Do you fail to see the venom in the lips with which you kiss my skin
The deceit needed for you to find your temporary win
I will dread any love that comes to me this day forth
Wondering and questioning the heavens of my worth
Wretching instead of reaching for the silver lining of the clouds
Knowing the loser's price when they sets their wages down
Now I know the warnings, the hints, the cautions my mind gave
The reluctance in my mind that inevitably would have saved
The mirror that I chose not to look in simply out of stubbornness
And all the issues that we both had which I chose not to address
And I am tired of the tears when I should be over you
The love that will come once again every time you're passing through
The aching for the nicotine-like feeling that only you can quench
And the tissues scattered on the floor with which my tears do drench
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 5:34 PM UTC
She was living in multiple alternated realities
constantly fought solis against luna you know
while experiencing delusions and fighting slavery
...Inside of his domestic kingdom,
she figured out who's characters were for show.
Oh god, the ways in which she revealed her own darkness sometimes was sickening but manipulation had before held her captive.
She became a victim with no strength to respond any other way than being passive.
This so-called king possessed weapons of puppetry and diluted morals, she applied fresh lipstick to her face and got ready to constantly give him oral.
Over & over again she misplaced her caring art, seemed to have mastered her heartlessness into a form of art.
Forever she remained mute, nobody sensed her pain if she sat there playing cute.
She stuttered whenever she tried to use her voice, people judged her for being quiet like if it was her own ******* choice.
...Trauma lingered in her mind and on her face, to whom it did not concern as long as she was cooperative dressed in lace.
She was fully aware this darkness she had endured may have triggered inside of her a personality disorder, as she crawled on her knees & repeatedly gave in to his wretched & violating orders.
She was no longer the same proper creature, she was all over the place and possessed heartless features.
How was she supposed to be sure of what she truly feels?
When she could not even tell apart delusions from what is real.
Developing h.p.p.d
May 15, 2019
May 15, 2019 at 11:40 PM UTC
My heart bleeds watching the world's distressing moments
Shame that no one can help as the world sinks
Stinking around in a mess of heartlessness and lawlessness
How did we get here to be lamed and shamed even by animals
Who can save the world?
Killings and maiming on the loose in a senseless world
A world that is destined to die in the hands of a wicked soul
Why Oh Why Am I hear the dying child cries out in vain
Pain all over him with desperation aggravated by neglect
Who can save the world?
Why save a world that is heartless with no natural affection
The monkey laughs with ego of pity for a people without soul
The lizard pounds its chest with pride of sternness
In a world full of pain without pity for a fellowman
Who can save the world?
Hopelessness in the midst of crime, hatred and selfishness
Wars, hatred, bitterness, jealousy, acrimony and prejudice
And no man cares about the other and crooked to outwit the other
What a shame that goodness and mercy are made to go on holidays
Who can save the world?
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC