"hijacking" poems
Planes crashing
Towers exploding
News covering
Tears forming
Men falling
Videos created
Uprise roaring
The whole world
Watches
Waits
In baited breath
Death all around
It started with a hijacking
Or maybe a bit before
But we are resilient
Brave
We shall NOT be brought down screaming
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
Concrete full of blood
Skies, smoke-filled clouds
Poison, don't you see
INDUCING VOMITING
Of every freedom you hold
Incubators, landfills
For
Food deserts
Soul Scavengers
Bullet and knife showers
Parentless parents
Starving children
Hotbeds for addiction
Metropolises
Harvesting humans like ants
Where democracy manufactures
Oppressed consumers out of the masses
Majority starving for death
Poison, don't you see
INDUCING VOMITING
Of every freedom you hold
Those borders you revere
Hijacking your body and mind
Legislating no burning of the flag
Where they clean their blood-drenched hands on
Can you tell what side your on
When you agree, they hold a different nationality
When can there be actual solidarity?
Profets of freedom, alienating OUR power to be
When in doctrine, legislature, and policy
Hierarchizing who deserves to be free
In contempt, not compliance
In pain, not numb
Reactive, not inactive
Burning, boiling, shivering
Out of injustice
Poison, don't you see
INDUCING VOMITING
Of every freedom you hold
How can you keep suffering,
When you face the truth
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 10:21 PM UTC
Ones and Zeros
In the online digital world
Every boy and every girl
Are villains and heroes
Who knows which?
Son a of a *****
The truth is lies
Wrapped up in disguise
We want to believe
Electronic love we receive
Is not there to deceive
The flirting
The sexting
The online molexting
**** pic rejecting
Encrypted ascii code
Sent through internet nodes
Wireless whispers transmitted
Thoughts of endearment committed
Fact are conveniently omitted
Lies are ruthlessly submitted
Straight jacket
Packet hackers
Hijacking a loving heart
Holding it ransom is their art
Scourge of the community
Harassing
Surpassing
Any level of dignity
Players and haters
And the masturbators
The downright crazies
Acting like timid daisies
The cheaters
Defeaters
And quite possibly
Wife beaters
The losers
The boozers
Mentally abusers
The popular sexter
Who may not be a her
Quite possibly a guy
But will vehemently deny
The whiner
Data miner
The ********* seeking minor
The scammer
The Christian Damner
Super **** grammar
All thrown in together
With the digital picture collector
And still we’re looking all around
For love to be found
In a world of made believe
That anonymously deceives
We are ones seeking zeroes
Running into villains dressed up as heroes
Hearts shredded and deleted
Retreating and defeated
Yet somehow we try again
Hoping for something less than pain
We are all a little bit insane
Playing the online dating game
One’s and Zero’s
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 7:15 AM UTC
Forgetting my name as it slips off your tongue
You Slaughter my soul and leave it for prey
Abandoning my love just another casualty your way
You massacre my mind hijacking my heart
Just another cadaver in your disease
The devastation you have provided me with can’t slip away
I’m immobile I have been through a defeat
Sabotaged all that I once believed
I Surrender I no longer continue to breathe
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 9:41 PM UTC
We hobble along with outrage fatigue
And watch as nothing ever exhausts
Our Machiavellian leaders' use
Of the media to win at all costs.
False story lines prevail.
To hell with accuracy and precision.
Sowing distrust of higher learning
Solidifies their paranoid vision.
Watch how their destructive disdain
For expertise gains vitality
As people's opinions and feelings stomp
On any form of objective reality.
Watch as they rewrite history;
Notice how data can be erased
As they become suspicious of much
Information that's science-based.
Language becomes weaponized:
Hyperbole, salacious lies,
And slippery superlatives
Celebrate truth's demise.
Party loyalty: that is key.
All that matters is the sale.
Hijacking democracy
Becomes the goal: the holy grail.
Mobilized by grievance, they
Inflame fear and anger. They hope
That we will find scapegoats to blame
When we are at the end of our rope.
A general illiteracy
On issues that affect our lives
Keeps us all in doubt while they
Create fake news and sharpen their knives.
Ah, how they want you to fear
Government, which is ironic,
For they themselves are government.
Look at their smiles, cold and sardonic.
Give equal weight to both
Sides of arguments, they say.
That's how they can justify
Bigotry and lead us astray.
While extremist views go mainstream,
Blurred lines make life hazy.
Keep watering narcissism,
And you will see it grow like crazy.
Their careful manipulation of language
Proves how much their rhetoric's swollen.
The people find it hard to accept
That basic freedoms are being stolen.
As we lament the death of truth
And wonder how it came to pass,
Before we cast blame we must
Peer into the looking glass.
-by Bob B (9-28-18)
°Inspired by "The Death of Truth" by Michiko Kakutani
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 11:37 AM UTC
We gather here in the square, for what we believe.
There are shots and bangs but we still remain.
We stand together, all are united.
If death shall come, I will still stand firm.
Until our voices are heard, we shout – we shout!
A place of pride and dignity.
Dealing with the same tools as the one before
We left before it was finished.
“This is a warning! Leave! Go home!”
We will stand as the pyramids strong and forever.
They try to sweep us away like sand,
but firm we will stand.
The battle is in the images.
The battle is in the stories.
The battle is in the scars upon your back.
They want to take back the square
Our backs toward the sun
When we finally bow down,
we all bow together in prayer
but just as suddenly, we turn on one another.
Anger and arrogance –
hijacking our revolution.
They crush us with their wheels
but they cannot crush our souls
The stand becomes a war
The good become traitors,
and traitors become heroes.
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 6:19 PM UTC
*Some poems walk with me,
Some poems simply talk to me,
Some poems reach out to me,
Some poems scream and shout at me,
whilst some poems eventually grow on me.
Some poems slow dance with me,
Some poems enchant me - they are
breathtakingly mesmerising to me,
Some poems captivate me after hijacking me,
Some poems rip my heart out
and break every single piece of me.
Some poems absolutely impress me,
Some poems couldn't care less about me,
Some poems embrace every inch of me,
Some poems share my soul with me.
Some poems inspire me and motivate me,
Some poems **** the very life out of me,
Some poems resonate with every fibre of me,
Some poems switch a little light on for me.
Some poems will forever live inside of me,
Some poems twist themselves and lie to me,
Some poems are open and honest with me,
Some poems...are just like people to me!
By Lady R.F (c)2016*
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 4:22 AM UTC
1991
I realized
We were both born
in rotting soil,
plastic toys fed
by Arabia's oil.
Eyes closed,
ears behest
to broadcasts, we,
could NOT protest.
That was the beginning
of our mass destruction,
but cribs offsides,
we slept soundly,
thanking our stars,
proud to be Americans.
10 years dormant,
the lyrics laid,
enough to stick,
but their irony to fade.
Until grade school,
recess goaded,
as burning buildings
on our side exploded.
The imminent threat preloaded,
in airports we shed shoes,
forever coded.
The broadcast — our center
was the theorem
that planes, oil, and Arabs
risked everyone's freedom.
But when we raised hands,
to ask why, teachers said
hail red, blue,
and especially white.
We forgot our roots,
because the Ellis Island trip
was obviously cancelled.
So we read headlines,
instead of Orwell,
the day 911
called for a police state.
Trusted the government
and ****** Muslims,
the day turbans
meant hijacking planes.
Pledged allegiance
disguised as freedom,
the day war
was declared
on Saddam Insane.
Our flag revealed
a sham feeding flames,
angst-ridden
teenagers
we became.
With raised middle fingers,
instead of hands,
to Green Day lyrics,
**** Amuricans.
Because only idiots
press a red button twice,
when mass destruction is the price.
And only villains
make children orphans,
while victims drown
in New Orleans.
And only gluttons
eat caviar with silver spoons,
tainting forever
a nation's youth.
Entrenched in dunes,
we boarded blind,
to debt,
death, and
jaded minds.
Blamed by perpetrators
in dollars and change,
for a guerrilla war
fought in vain!
Voted Obama,
with Osama slain,
and soldiers withdrawn,
we hoped for change.
PLEASE, we cried,
JUST STOP!
We are CHAINED —
to a bulldozer
that has NO BRAKES!
…
So the broadcast said recently:
We are losing control
of the Middle East. And
Al-Qaeda is far from weak —
ISIS: THE PHOENIX OF HUMAN GREED,
We just turned off our TV's
and looked up,
the kids who gave up,
thanked Musk — our atlas,
not yet shrugged,
whose vessels of stars
will rocket toward Mars,
from this godforsaken
civilization
built on hate.
And when you tell me, ***
"We were both born in 1991,"
I can only sigh,
and breath sympathy,
for our dark history.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC
Girl
I wanna **** you
In your glass house
As we skip rocks
slipping our tongues
into something more comfortable
something less cynical
than the effect
we have on ourselves
in a mirrored conversation
constantly
reflecting back
our insecure subconscious
So come on
let's get physical
Feel the frustration out
It's hijacking your
central nervous system
don't let it control
coax me to the back bedroom
and I'll show you how to ground yourself
Break glass
In case of emergency
We just need a release
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 11:55 PM UTC
Some blades sting
as they slice through skin;
laced with backhanded
compliments, a withering glance,
and the steady hand of
an executioner, they aim
to demolish, stick by stick
of explosive hatred.
Some blades have poisoned tips,
dipped in a brew so wicked
that it lurks from vein to vein
and blacks you out, strikes you
from existence by hijacking your senses
and drowning them with intense,
heady emotions like loneliness, and fear,
and fiery anger.
Some blades are disguised as a handshake,
one that grips and cracks your bones into splinters,
shards of what once was dignity
and pride. A grip that convinces you
to admit that you are nothing, that you are
less than, that you are inferior.
And then there is the blade,
tipped like a pen,
upon which I ****** myself. This
blade, unlike the others,
is choice and stupidity and release.
It is a forfeit, a crushing defeat
that the writers succumb to. It is this
blade, ink pouring from our pumping aortas
to our gnarled, stained fingertips
that dance across a page, that charm
our own minds with the drowsy lullabies
and delusions of omnipotence so that
we can spill the deepest, blackest pits
of our shriveled peach hearts
and spit them out into the universe.
A million voices collide and create the void
where we all end, where we all begin, and
forge the path of self-destruction it takes
to fish out a handful of temperate words,
biblical verses, even historic epics
to release ourselves of our woes
and of every singular thought.
Some blades are caused by the average,
the ones who would not ****** a dagger
through their chest, not even
for the truth.
But our blade, the wicked fiend,
sweeps through every bone and ligament
until she reaps what is due;
the words you're reading,
my thoughts scattered out
for you.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 9:45 PM UTC
You’re hijacking
my dreams and
forcing my reason to
walk the plank and
yet you hide your
jolly roger behind
a beautiful curtain
of handcrafted
self doubt and
insecurities.
It’s almost a cruel
joke that I’ve already
cut my wings to
daydream with the
stars, wishing for
sleep, but never finding
an ounce in this endless
sea of silent background
noise spiced with mint
and sage and bergamot.
I just hope that
my words will keep
me company enough
to not be lost among my
ever shifting thoughts and
anxiety driven panic attacks.
May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 12:00 AM UTC
Oh Donny and Arnie got into a battle,
begun by The Donald who started to prattle
on something so urgent... important... momentous,
which is: Arnie's ratings on this year's "Apprentice".
So Arnie said, "Trump - What's your priority,
a show you produce or the presidency?"
Then Donny said, "I'll show you how much I care"
as he made a dog's breakfast by hijacking prayer.
So Arnie said, "Donny, you ignorant *****
when it comes to careers, perhaps we should switch.
You take on the ratings as job number one,
while I sit in the Oval and get something done!"
Of course, this whole thing's a ridiculous act
on the part of The Donald, so he can distract
all of us and the press and the whole internet
from the seemingly fascist agenda he's set.
So let's make a vow not to speak of this stuff,
and let us not heed this celebrity fluff.
Let's not make muckraking the thing that we do...
But now I have realized... I've just done it too!
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 8:57 PM UTC
It’s Monday afternoon, the first day after Fall Break. Several of my suitemates are here, relaxing a bit before we hit the dining hall and then scatter, like debris from a bomb. There are a zillion things to do on campus, on any given night. Lisa and I are going to a seminar, Anna and Sunny are going to a Uni play and Leong’s going to see a documentary.
Leong was hunched over a cup of dark tea, reading ‘J-14’ magazine. “Do any of you guys think Travis Kelce is hot?” She asked, not looking up. Leong subscribes to several ‘teen’ magazines, like ‘J-14’, ‘Girls' World’ and ‘Girl’s Life.’ She says that Yale is her chance to be the ‘American teenager’ she could never be at home (Macaw, China). We’d make fun of her if we didn’t all read them after she finished, and they were lying around.
“No,” said Lisa and I about the same time as Anna and Sunny said, “Yeah,” to varying degrees.
“Did you think he was hot before he started dating Taylor?” she asked, pushing the enquiry even further. “No,” said Lisa and I repeated in unison - we had this down now.
“He wasn’t on my radar,” Anna admitted. Sunny said, “Yeah, same here.”
“Why do YOU think he’s hot?” Leong asked Sunny (who’s fem-facing).
“I can appreciate a hot guy,” she said, sounding a little defensive, “as someone who could draw hetero interest.”
Then Lisa reported, from head down in her textbook, “Your mouth retains the DNA of everyone you ever kissed.” She looked up and asked me, how many guys have you kissed?
“You mean politely kissed or Deep-kissed,” I asked back, tilting my head, sticking out my tongue and slobbering it around, like a dog eating peanut butter.
“They mean French-kissed,” she replied, rescanning the last paragraphs as I calculated.
“So, the five guys I dated, but we used to play ‘spin the bottle’ at parties too.. so.. 25?” I said.
“You **** she laughed. “I have my truth,” I updogged, “How about you?”
“I’d forgotten ‘spin the bottle,’ Lisa admitted, recalculating.. “Yeah, 25 sounds about right.”
“Leong?” she asked Leong. “Two,” Leong answered instantly.
“Anna?” she asked Anna, so Lisa was going completely around the room with this survey.
“25 sounds right” Anna answered, “including spin,” (the bottle).
“Sunny?” Leong asked Sunny. “A HUNDRED,” I said, hijacking Sunny’s answer, and everyone chuckled. Every Friday night Sunny brings a different girl home to ‘spend the night.’ It’s rather impressive.
“A few,” Sunny answered, shrugging nonchalantly, “A girl doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“I’ve got a calculator,” Anna said, “if you change your mind,” holding her phone up like an offer.
Oct 23, 2023
Oct 23, 2023 at 5:09 PM UTC
~for mark john junior~
the spigot turns counterclockwise,
oft I wondered why,
is it the magic way to make
things rise...
'pon occasion, the water shuts off,
turn left to right or vice versa,
no juice no bath and life starts
to stink, especially under armpits
and you think
how many love poems does one soul
in his lifetime possess,
and can I do better than my last...
if at all
sometimes you stare at a blankenship
ocean adrift, pirate hijacking victim,
no grub, no paddle or map,
but an empty water bottle
baffled you ask it
to point north,
laughs at you, asking,
"am I a compass,
or you,
a complete ***
a seismic groan out loud,
registers on
Florida's hurricane wind watch
how come this to be
meteoric loss of metaphor bridging,
search the Internet for the ******
of poetic inspiration, and an
error message delivered:
"plagiarize, or better luck next time sucker"
patience, football, thy women,
will in time realize the artful truth realized:
"Creativity is allowing oneself to make mistakes; art is knowing which ones to keep"
Scott Adams (creator of Dilbert)
so
go forth,
make mistakes plenty,
keep some good,
the pink ones fyi, my fav,
look that quill in the face,
and give the lazy ******* some lip,
reminding it,
it gets paid and ink drinks,
by the word
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC
Amillion steel pin ****** divine
each day closer to death we climb
crystal shards bejewel the sky
While
The Cities beneath me
Kicking and crying
But all I hear is goodbye
-
Unreason not able
Why are these ****** Not stabled
Just wanderin
Thru this fable
stubbed my toe
on your god of stone
That litters this river
We all flow
So
Let’s dance in this
Technicolor bliss
And never ending showers
of little lead gifts
human disinfectant
for where the slime live
Where the slime live
-
Broken bones remind the soul
of the all violence that’s been sold
All the while racing toward
that ever after
We once called home
No more
boiling jealousy
envious bedroom eyes
hideous tongues beguile
Thick salavatory lies
Lifeless imbeciles
Revolving doors
carnivorous smiles
covetous masturbators
**** Gazing while
Justice is **********
Coming a little premature
Serving our just deserves
oh my libertine
How I loathe to
See you In chains
If their speed is good enough for 6 yr olds
Then it’s safe enough for me
HEY!!!!!
I want my! I want my! I want my
methamphetamine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-
I got too many middle fingers
Shoot straight from the cuff
Humans might lose the race
Oh well, close enough
Outlawed truth and reason
But here, I just took a dump
Never waste a good crisis
My Re-elected incumbents
Gotta Fill Them Prisons
Protest prices ‘cause
Dollars fill the fists
Along the streets uprisen
HEY!!!
Whats the policy on returns?
I’m just not happy with this
Oblivion
-
broadcast opinions
Regimental TV
Coerced confession
global stupidity
Yes, I’d like to report a hijacking
0f another species
Endangered or
Polluted at best
Just Don’t forget to breath
Oh yeah, you’re dead
Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 6:45 AM UTC
There’s moisture in the air
One that speaks of spring
The trees are responding
And I hear the songs of birds
As long as I hear the songs of birds
Then I know
Life is there still
Miraculously
Life is a reflection
Everywhere there are glimpses of the self
Shades of the great universe
Channels carve their way in and out
And dust is deposited
The earth remains
Eroded yet somehow replenished
By the forces of nature
Air becomes matter
To replace death
Materials gathered from the farthest reaches
Of the universe
Make life
We are nothing but children of the universe
Plants rise up from the earth
Filling space
Each and every one
Offering nourishment to thousands upon thousands
Birds fly wisely
Rhythmically
To show the way
Humans stumble
This way and that way
Wishing to be kings and queens
Cowering at fate
Those who have given up on life
Take their lives
And take the lives of others
'Never give up!' said a wise man
'Never give up!'
The future must glow!
The future must resonate
With hope for every young person!
The bloodshed must stop!
Though blood
Escapes from the womb
Of humanity
Ceaselessly
And the fine lines between
Balance, renewal and loss
Widen
Though blood flows too fast
Hijacking days of rest and recovery
Friendship and camaraderie
We must never give up!
We must all fight now
But only
For peace
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 3:01 PM UTC
Money worth stomaching
Boxes folding stacking
Plain clothed cops and
Cars worth hijacking
Annoy me and all they do is pass me
Like i am in a James Hugh's movie
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 2:51 AM UTC
What do I take with me as I walk out that perverbal door?
The butterflies I have kept hidden in my hope.
My disintegrating resilience, slowly chipped away by your verbal thrashings and controlled blaming.
The hijacking of emotions.
I pack away what remains of my self esteem.
Delicately wrap the shattered pieces of my truth.
To be replenished and reconstructed with sober eyes
and a revived mind.
I ask for the lessons yet to be learned.
And the love yet to be unconditional.
Left behind is my forgiveness without expectation.
My resentments without guilt.
My shame without implication.
I no longer need them to define me.
My apology is next to the many things left unsaid.
A silent acknowlegment of my regrets and carelessness.
We can each take the memories that remind us of a happier time.
When ignorance was euphoric and accepted.
Floating above reality in a kismet of our own creation.
Finally, we can each lovingly share the life-force that has made it all worth something.
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 9:17 AM UTC
Please take a seat
In the back of my head
Stop hijacking my thoughts
And wishing me dead
Hand over the reins
I'll take it from here
You will self destruct
And you're insincere
I look to the future
I welcome the new
You served no purpose
And I am stronger than you
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 11:08 AM UTC
Taking my leave, I'll never return
Laugh if you wish, despair or mourn
Either if fine and either is moot
I've broken the rules and dug out my roots
My life was determined in absentee
I'm trashing your world now, so that you see
How dangerous it was to mishandle the Fire
My abused wild mind is like a live wire
Planning a ****** of everything known
Lost seeds of patience you'd carefully sown
Hijacking the towers of social abuse
It went on for centuries as a delayed fuse
I'm taking my leave now,
I've nowhere to go –
But anywhere's better
Than this line toe to toe
Dec 19, 2020
Dec 19, 2020 at 11:32 AM UTC
She keeps hijacking the most pure
Of my metaphors
I wonder if she
Sells them in slavery
To him;
Forced into prostitution
To the ****
Who sells their own children
To their lover/business partner?
My only weapon is now
Saying the truth out loud
She offers him stolen
****** expressions
as sacrifice
but they were mine
I grew and nurtured them
I fostered and guarded them
And she took them away
They were merely thoughts
in my garden with osseous walls
I showed them to her,
gave them her tears
and her smiles,
gave them her names;
She picked them and ran,
claimed them not even
all for herself…
but for him…
the foreign body
This is merely one
in a line of treacheries
and I will no longer
allow her to fall
any further
into this monstrous
scar of transgression.
Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 11:51 AM UTC
Within each gap I pass away eviscerated
Upon the souls of past breath. for I am reborn
Within each gasp that is taken from me.
Consumed each one consumed upon the breeze
Traveling incognito one of many that falls on
Silent breezes. Hijacking a part of an exhaled me.
I am but a breath in the continual cycle of life that
Is torn asunder and consumed with out jest, a moment
Taken never replaced until silent upon death.
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 6:16 PM UTC
No bandage could cover the wounds.
No comforting sounds could loosen the knots.
The world has not technically stopped turning,
But it has, down deep inside of me.
A flame extinguished,
My voice, incapable.
Each muscle.. Lapsed into a numbness so ******
My heart, it beats.
Thump thump
Against the walls that encase it,
Holding it there, steadily, in case it tries to break free.
The throbbing in my veins
and the beats of my heart
Are so powerful they invade my thoughts,
Hijacking the only thing I have control over.
The only thing left.
But they're unceremonious murderers,
Who, entrapped, could defeat.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
No bandage could cover the wounds.
No love could cure this heart.
The world has not technically stopped.
But it has, down deep, inside of me.
A flame has been extinguished,
My voice, left incapable.
Each muscle, each breathe.
Lapsed into a numbness so ******
My heart beats, against the walls encasing it.
Holding it there, steadily,
in case it tries to break free.
Like the caged animal it is.
The throbbing in my veins.
The pounding beats of my heart.
So powerful they invade my thoughts.
Hijacking the only thing I have control over.
The only thing I have left.
But they're unceremonious murderers,
Entrapped, could defeat.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 11:45 PM UTC
Let the radicals go,
it's a bloodthirsty code
we can never understand,
an evil hatred,
masked-fanatics hijacking
Muhammed
will eventually
give them enough rope
to do themselves in.
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 5:21 AM UTC