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Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
.oh yeah... chris isaak's: wiucked game - plenty of "facts" went into taping as many covers as the song spontaneously made replica... so many objective "facts"... too many to count... when will certain subjective taboos be recognized and other, objective "truths" be denied?! how long must humanity be obliged to secure the argument by "confusion" be deemed liberation as necessarily-arguing the case of confiscatory material? what?! my grammar is bad? if my grammar is so ******* bad... ask someone from Rotherham!

.i tend to forget that people have this, collective amnesia regarding subjectivity, somehow they only associate it with news spew... they vaguely recognize an old widow walking from a surgery to a bust stop, stopping my a lavender bush, to pick a few flowers off of it... like some quasi Notre Dame hunchback... joyous that she bypassed all the ghost souls on the "waiting list" of an English doctor, joyous... clearly innocent... there can never be a place in this world for objective truths... objectivity is limited in the realm of aesthetics... whereby objectivity is a truth: whereby two uncorrelated people say the same thing... but  when it comes to a taste in music? what is objectivity that focuses on the differentiated between the sound of Wagner with / without an orchestra... and a traffic jam? objectively? both are sounds... extreme comparisons... but you can't call one black and the other #A, can you? subjectivity is not a 1-dimensional propaganda machine, it is also a truth... and when it comes to aesthetics... within the confines of personal taste(s)... i can say Wagner works better without an orchestra than with one... but... you can't tell the two apart... subjectivity is not a bias... it is a profound truth... in comparison objectivity's claim for truth is a tirade, compensated by the mere excavation deposit of journalism, which is becoming ever more fractured in compensation; it was always the case that life, expired prior to the, death... but now? it appears? death expires prior to a, life. Wagner isn't anemic without the orchestra... Wagner merely hijacks an orchestra to overdo the purpose of the piano... to enrapture a concert hall; nothing more, and i wouldn't expect nothing less.

i'm drunk...

  you're sober...

good luck
reconciling either,

even if either:

invokes:

         none....

   who gave the reigns
to the internet,
under a sober guise?

****! quick!
catch me a moth in a lampshade
and send me off to
a CIA acid camp!

IVANA BELIEVE!
and congregate
like a ******* beehive!

or a termite mount...
whichever...
            what?
i'm drunk... you're sober...
    
unless you have some
fetish for Swedish pop music
akin to Roxette...
  we, have, seriously,
nothing, to, talk, about...

  savvy? is that privy enough
for you?

tell me the difference between:
i have no rank, no lābrador
to mind suite for an orchestra
worth a Wagner...

**** it... i just watched
Apocalypse Now...
   3 and a half hours of what i could
make of the heart of darkness...
prior to the ride of the valkyries...

but to be honest...
i'm with david...
             take of pure piano...
of Wagner's
     the entry of the gods into Valhalla...
sole, piano... it's not anemic...
it's justified interpretation,
it''s... the justified counter
to Chopin...
  a refined honesty...
                 i never liked
Chopin...
   unlike most Polacks...
i never like Jean-Paul II either...
like most Polacks...

i'd envision a Jean-Paul II emeritus...
like all old Polacks lay claim:
it you have been nice to see
an otherwise different,
process of dethroning...

no... the orchestra undermines
Wagner... the piano will do,
for now, for as long as it takes...
the piece doesn't require orchestration...
if the mere piano makes the pieces
anemic...
then the orchestra makes is
gluttonous...
  
people shouldn't expect their children
to be intelligent by merely
listening to classical music...
what they should expect...
is listening to classical music...
elaborating into jazz...
and then coming back into classical music...

why do i hear such horrors...
that the only classical music made pop...
is classical music underscoring
moving image...
why is the only classical music
"worth" listening to...
the music composed for movies,
or at least, incorporated
into them?

            no... Wagner is not anemic
on the sole basis of piano...
     das rheingold: is not anemic...
Chopin might be...
with his intricacies...
a bountiful butterfly in the age
of Bonaparte...
              
               but? listening to the piano?
of Wagner's exclusion of
orchestra?

   Handel is the new Bach...
and Wagner is the new Chopin...

you don't make toddlers listen to classical music
because they might be better
at arithmetic like some prized
monkey who later struggles
with economic biases -
or tax returns...

                     you need a classical
music appreciation,
to hit against jazz...
and if it doesn't return to classical
music?
then the original investment was
worth... zilch!

       orchestra ruins what perfects,
or rather allows Wagner
to stand-out from a Baroque tradition
of Germanic exfoliation...
   and hurts, hurts...
hurts the gentile spirit of a Schubert
or a Schumann...
      
the just Libra interlude hanging
within a composition,
the dangling in the air...
or a dire, interlude, a dire... note...

                   Wagner minus
orchestra...
                      what a fine affair to...
anticipate:

                                              ­    en oeuvre.
K Balachandran Jan 2012
party pooper hijacked the heart throb,
the party progressively got rotten-
till the day break.
Nolan Davis May 2017
We treat our hearts like fighters,
12 rounds trapped in the fear cage inside.
Pride be our fuel, anger our lighters,
Our souls wastelands with nowhere to hide.

Ego hijacks our common sense,
Making shallow love our prize.
Emoting makes our minds go tense,
Until help screams out from our eyes.

The leaps and bounds we **** ourselves for,
Isn't enough to keep our hearts at bay.
Nothing will ever even the score,
There are no words they can simply say.

So why do we put ourselves through hell?
Why can't we just swallow our pride?
Because love is a feeling they just want to sell,
And in debt there's no place to hide.
Donall Dempsey Oct 2015
Last night
I missed you so much

I made love to
your nightdress

... passionately.
        
Now your nightdress
hides from me

slinks under covers and pillows

avoids my eyes.


I can't take another night  without you!

Your nightie can't take another night with me!


I am holding your dresses hostage

threatening them with kisses...caresses

if they make one false move.

Your other clothes
tremble in the wardrobe


...come back to me!
It is the Sabbath, and I am pleased to fulfill this high mitzvah and lead you to Paradise. It is the Sabbath and Shekinah Queen floating over you waiting to take you. It is the Sabbath and your beautiful ******* distil in my mouth honey of your secrets.

Tent of all Mysteries is your magnificent body. Your skin is my scroll and your follicles as the letters that God wrote on your magnificente skin and your belly adorned with my kisses. Hieroglyphs are your tattoos, sphinxes puzzles, the codices of the angelic scribe, the Angel of the Face, keeper of all secrets.

Destil out the liquor of your illuminated Vergel and feeds my world, like dew dripping morning. It is the Shabbat and your river flows now from your Eden to water my spirit. I hijacks thoughts your perfume. It incense aroma of your garden.

It's the Shabbat and already prophesies thy mouth the voices of Celestial Academy, whispering in my ear your high pleasures at the apex of your ******, revealing your messiah, your hidden light, creator of all my miracles.

It is the Sabbath and your Tantra connects the earth and the heavens, as a mystic linhame fabric with your esoteric moans. It's the Shabbat and you are the my highest mitzvah, the most sacred precept.
Esotérika - The Poetry Of Awakening - A verse for Shabbat - By Deepak Sankara Veda
M Seifert M Mar 2013
you are a fractal

in a sea of branches
you are the air between

the dust that spirals in the sun streams


the decimal point in the equation

the dividing line between oblivion and infinity

you are a loose end
fraying
made of left over dry skin








you are the chemical

you poison my drinking water

you are

the secret ingredient
the last place they'd ever look

you are

the dark matter
the imaginary number I can't wrap my head around

you cure my melancholy






we are

alveoli

we breathe fire

seen through telescopes
we believe we are alone

we'll believe anything they tell us




they won't love you
they can't see you

you are too much
they'd never understand


you don't give
what you don't receive

you give life
as you breathe through me



I see you when my eyes close
I trace your shape on frosted windows





you spark the fire that hijacks my biology



you draw upon my skin with ***** fingernails

your handwriting is embedded in my DNA




your name echoes still
unfamiliar voices without faces


your secret's safe with me



hidden in massive outer space places
untraceable
mastermind configuration
takes ages just to give up out of frustration
Senor Negativo Aug 2012
On a smooth cushion of silken air

I stand moderately off kilter.

We are elated and healed

Everyone is astounded.

We stood there like living sculpture,

We fed each other hope and affection.

I will kiss you eternally

I will never treat you like a slug.

On a smooth silken cushion of air,

Standing moderately off kilter

I don't get rude comments,

From adults, strangers, enemies and teenagers.

Everyone greets us with Hello, hello.

And then laughter hijacks my mouth.

You have been unshackled

Their death, my life, our cradle,

Our bodies, our souls unfettered.

On a smooth silken cushion of air

We will lay, moderately off kilter.
s Aug 2016
anxiety is a terrorist
who holds me at gun point
and hijacks the plane that
i should be flying.
i don't know where we're headed
or what i'm going to do.

i am not safe on my own.
If we are puppets,
Then sleepiness
Is a dangerous
Puppeteer.

He creeps up on you
And hijacks your
Mind and body

Your eyes are closing
Your body feels heavy
Your head may drop off
Anytime

Your shoulders are drooping
Your feet are weary
Your back supports you
No more

Your head is swaying
Your body is aching
Oh how you wish you were
In bed

You can’t hear properly
You can’t speak properly
You don’t care
Anymore...

                                                                ­                 ...he whispers in your ear
And this is when
Sleepiness
Slips you onto
His puppet strings
And starts to sway
Your bearings

One, two
One, two
You plod on

Left, right
Left, right
Your vision starts to spin

You can’t hear properly
You can’t speak properly
You don’t care
Anymore...

                                                                ­                 ...he whispers in your ear
Continuing on
Your way
You know what you’re doing
But yet, don’t notice
Anything
Around you

Until that loud beep
Jolts you from your sleep
And brings you out of
The puppeteer's spell

The puppet strings
Are broken
And you are left
To face reality
The fact that you could've                                        should've
Died


You can’t hear properly
You can’t speak properly
You don’t care
Anymore...

                                                                ­                 ...he whispers in your ear
And this is why I need more than 6 hours of sleep...
s Aug 2016
anxiety kicks down the door
and holds you at gunpoint-
he, who is the most unforgiving of all,
does not care where you come from,
what you’re doing, who you’re with.
he hijacks the system. he takes over
the plane you were trained to fly. he
is a terrorist who you cannot escape
from and you cannot imprison.

you are not safe in your body.
first piece, edited
Mike Arms Sep 2015
bat flies out of the night into
my headlights
loops in draculan arc

it is 4 o clock in the
dark in the maze where my
heart knows no clock

the radio is singing a lesson in
lost love where the wires
buzz and intersect

animal notes in the streets

metal on the field of my tongue
hijacks your signal
like a surprise flight of bat
judy smith Dec 2015
Aside from New Year’s Eve specials, it’s a lean week for original programming. Still, there are a few stand-out offerings. Here’s what caught my eye on television this week:

Sunday: “Undercover Boss” 7 p.m., CBS: Yeah, it’s just a reality program, but it’s one of the only new network offerings tonight, so we’ll take it.

Monday: “Happy New Year, Charlie Brown” 7 p.m., ABC: The ol’ blockhead hunkers down with some choice Tolstoy during these Peanuts’ festivities.

“******: Cape Cod, USA” 8 p.m., HBO: This documentary explores the grip of addiction through the stories of eight twenty-somethings.

Tuesday: “The 38th Annual Kennedy Center Honors” 8 p.m., CBS: Host Stephen Colbert pays tribute to Carole King, George Lucas, Rita Moreno, Cicely Tyson and Seiji Ozawa; James Taylor, Janelle Monáe, Yo-Yo Ma and others perform.

“Almost Genius” 9 p.m., truTV: This new reality comedy series looks at folks who fall just short of their goals. They should be knocking on my door any day now.

Wednesday: “The Twilight Zone” 6 p.m., Syfy: The annual marathon features 156 episodes of the acclaimed anthology series and ends on Jan. 3.

“In Defense of Food” 8 p.m., PBS: Michael Pollan trots the globe in search of people who eat for health.

Thursday: “The Simpsons Movie” and New Year’s marathon, 5 p.m., FXX: The animated motion picture kicks off a back-to-back showing of 56 episodes.7 p.m.

“**** Clark’s Primetime New Year’s Rockin’ Eve With Ryan Seacrest 2016” 7 p.m., ABC: Whew! That title was so long that it’s almost 2017. The special breaks for local news and resumes at 10:30 p.m.

“Pitbull’s New Year’s Revolution, Part 1” 7 p.m., Fox: Jussie Smollett, Shawn Mendes and others help the performer ring in 2016 from Miami.

“Live from Lincoln Center” 7 p.m., PBS: Alan Gilbert leads the New York Philharmonic in a Parisian-themed New Year’s Eve special.

“NBC’s New Year’s Eve Game Night With Andy Cohen” 9 p.m., NBC: The Bravo star hijacks the prime time portion of Carson Daly’s annual holiday event.

“NBC’s New Year’s Eve With Carson Daly” 10:30 p.m., NBC: And again, Daly is relegated to late night.

Friday: “Sherlock on Masterpiece” 8 p.m., PBS: It’s practically the only non-rerun programming on tonight, but it’s really the only programming you need. The special finds Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman’s Holmes and Watson solving a case in 1895 London.

Saturday: “Galavant” 7 p.m., ABC: Four episodes of last season’s surprise hit musical comedy air back-to-back-to-back-to-back.

“Austin City Limits” 7 p.m., PBS: Alabama Shakes and Vintage Trouble perform.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses
Donall Dempsey Dec 2023
CRAZY LONELINESS HIJACKS MEMORY OF A BEAUTIFUL GIRL

Last night
I missed you so much

that I made love
to your nightdress

passionately

now your nightdress
hides from me

slinks under covers
and pillows

avoids my eyes.

I can't take
another night

without you.

Your nightie
can't take another night

with me.

I am holding
your dresses

hostage
threatening them with

kisses...caresses

if they make one
false move.

The rest of your clothes
tremble in the wardrobe

...come back to me.

*

Ahhh back in the day when poetry was the new rock'n'roll and we sold poetry in broadsheets from pub to pub and all piled into an auld van and headed down the highway to the southern counties and turn up at a local radio station and proclaim ourselves in poetry so that that night people would be enticed into readings at arts centres and the like...those be de days. A mechanic who" didn't give a toss about poetry" and underneath a car tinkering with its thingymabob heard me reading my "nightdress poem" on the radio and came along to hear me read it...he was very put out when I didn't and then I had to read it then and there on the pavement and he went away satisfied. One of my best performances and one of my best audiences.

This must be '84 or'85 as in '86 I took the boat to Land of the Angles and ensconced me self there for the better or the worst of it.
Homunculus Mar 2015
Nobody reads this ****... so I'm just gonna start typing. Why not? Freudian automatic writing is an old psychological gold standard, though I guess we can't really be sure how useful it is to analysis these days. Oh well, perhaps some illuminating nugget of insight into the complex inner workings of the human psyche will emerge from a later re-visitation of the text laid down here. Probably not... yeah, Freud was a strange one anyhow, he wanted to bone his mom, you know. He also loved *******. He once botched a neurological operation because he was too high, and then the patient came to him in a dream and blamed him. Of course, being the smelly old narcissistic cokehead that he was, he read some sort of esoteric meaning into the dream sequence and ignored his subconscious attempt at intervention. In light of this, it's probably worth asking if Freud is the type of person we really want interpreting our dreams... I always liked Jung better, anyway. That collective unconscious is some heavy ****, man. The thought that there are disembodied essences of character traits called archetypes, living in a panpsychic mental manifold, of which your mind is a small adumbration makes some pretty awesome dinner table conversations... until your dad hijacks the conversation and directs it back to sports.

On that note... why are sports so popular? Baseball is boring as ****, and boxing and football are barbaric. I always figured it had something to do with the human desire to act out our violent impulses, and the social constraints restricting us from doing so. Seems that with contact sports, people get to sublimate those urges by living them vicariously through the athletes. I wonder if revolution would come if we abolished sports. Lord knows, the people would need another hobby in light of that void in their leisure time. Maybe it would be political science, and we would finally realize how backward our government has become... nah, probably not. If sports were abolished, we would just go back to reality TV. ****, there's another rant... **** this, I'm leaving.
Larry B Jan 2011
Paralyzing uncertainty
Of things we haven't seen
Shadows of unknown origins
That invade our very dreams

Sometimes, it's the sounds
That go bump in the night
It hijacks our minds  
And fills our hearts with fright

Imaginations run wild
As we shiver and we shake
Our voice has betrayed us
Not a sound can we make

Our eyes closed so tightly
As we cover up our heads
In fear of the monsters
That live beneath our beds

Imaginary footsteps
Keep timing with our heart
As their beats intertwine
Like two lovers far apart

The things that's in our closets
Scare our minds the most
It's filled with all our nightmares
Our goblins and our ghosts

The shadows then start fading
As the sun begins to rise
The darkness now is gone
And we open up our eyes

The room is suddenly void
Of nighttime's wicked intrusion
This, that's held us hostage,
Was simply an illusion
E Townsend Sep 2015
Nostalgia hijacks unnecessarily
bleeding into a bloodless heart
where I feel peculiar
outside of my puppet body
the force dragging me to the next location
the next goal
the next unfulfilled dream.
I do not feel alive. I do not feel like I am breathing.
My stomach rises, but my hopes crash.
Every lock crunches together when I run into a bad thing
I shut myself off to protect myself
from an inevitable feeling that will not matter
once I'm beyond the earth
once I'm packed in a grave
and shipped off to the next meaningless life.
Andrew Parker Jun 2014
I Want to Hold Your Hand Poem
(6/16/2014)

I heard holding hands is what gives an angel its wings.
Maybe because they want to hold on so tightly,
that they need some help flying away.
They know they must go,
but don't know how to say no.
So does that explain why after we held hands the first time,
you disappeared?

Maybe you wanted to hold on.
Maybe you went to heaven,
because you didn't want the stars to see you cry.
So high above those celestial bodies you could do as you'd please,
and watch over me.

Maybe you felt...
the time, just might...
Maybe you were attracted to some other person's light,
Or maybe you were actually a devil in disguise.

One that rips wings off of angels
and traps them on Earth.
Watching with your hideous eyes,
as they hold hands with humans,
trying their hardest to fly.
While you feed off the fleeting might,
that causes their unstable plight.

Maybe you were a snake charmer,
and I, the instrument you played.
Like you could convince the sneaky shadow inside of me,
to slither out into the surface,
and convey its venomous intent,
ready to strike.
That's how you taught me to hold hands.

Maybe you were a tornado.
One that hijacks airplanes,
ripping apart houses,
and wreaking the most unnatural disaster,
that something so naturally beautiful could bring.

Maybe you held hands to stay on ground,
selfishly motivated to keep king status of your worldly mound
of dirt and keep yourself superior,
with the ability to stay,
due to simple saying "hey"
and seducing my hand to move your way.

So my angel,
Oh yeah, I'll tell you something,
I think you'll understand,
When I'll say that something
I wanna hold your hand.
I wanna hold your hand.
I wanna hold your hand.

Oh please, grow your wings
and fly away from me.
Oh please, please come save me,
I wanna hold your hand.
I wanna hold your hand.
I wanna hold your hand.
and streaks my heart walls inky
intermittently

I don't want to keep
grieving the passed
it hijacks the now

it's all we have

just a string
of fleeting, fragile moments
with zero guarantees
a wildfire Oct 2015
I am not ashamed.
I have survived the long, slow torment,
the only hell that is real,
the one that hijacks your mind,
steals away every thing that you love
and magnifies all of your fears innumerably.
I will not lie or hide myself away to appease you.
But instead, while you are judging me, too afraid to acknowledge your own darkness
I will have the courage to try again tomorrow.
Poetry bother me,
late night,
late in the day ,
does not matter!
.It Is a desire to *****
a new world,
a new thing
that makes me crazy,
Chases in bed ,
rips the mattress ,
I steal the covers,
I hijacks the pajamas.
.all Day bother me,
everyday,
all the time,
does not matter!
.A Poetry ****** me off
all the time,
robs me the second ,
the minutes , the entire clock.
.**** with my calm ,
bare my soul ,
accentuates my anger
and stone me ,
.me Turns inside out ,
disrespects me ,
me frightens ,
***** me ,
.She Takes me
and you receive me as anecdote,
Sometimes you love me
and sometimes I hate me .
Poetry completes me ,
But never satisfy me .
So addiction me
this drug me anesthesia ,
.They Treat me like a *****
And ***** me mercilessly ,
smells all my powder
and leave me in bed , alone.
.Me Separates ,
Alienates me ,
Enslaves me ,
I still buries in life.
.Make me to be
Another toy,
poetry that complete me ,
But never satisfies .
CeilingStar Jul 2017
Lay me down
Unveil my eyes to the world  

Everything is blue
Blue poisons me
Underneath my taut bruised skin
Lies a mosaic of love
For you
Hatred for me

Don't let me breathe
The horizon hijacks your job of whisking my small ragged breaths away

The journey away from you
Burns my every step
Burns a hole in my heart
Hands clammy
Belly churning

Above the clouds
There is nothing but you
Occupying my deprived mind
Gazing down I see you in everything
Every beautiful view is you

On cold sticky dirt
Take a bath
Wash off our sins
Let the water turn black

My despair swirling clockwise
Your longing swirling anti-clockwise
Close but opposite

May nothing but death do us part
May death find you alive
For me

KG
The journey away from them is always the worst
Alan McClure Jul 2019
But he hijacks your mind, you see -
you start thinking
in pithy vignettes
and seeing ancient injustice
in a drunkard's bloodshot eyes

The universal
in the particular -
God, aye! Sheep
as avatars
for all society
and majesty in language
as it's spoken, and heard.

Then you imagine him
hiding other poets' books
behind his own
in Waterstone's in Dumfries,
and remember -
he's as human as you,
thank ****.
Baris MacTavish Jan 2016
she
the real woman
never leaves behind

the real woman
never lies inside

the real woman
never hijacks her eyes

the real woman
never denies

the real woman
it was you..
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2022
did i mention that it was really important for me
to be in a bicycle accident: head split open...
bleeding... plum tattoo bruises on legs...
scabs from skin brushing on concrete on my arms...
boiling crescent crimsons (or rather sort of...) -
less crescents and more Cyprus shaped details...
simply because...
    there needed to be a reality check after i had
my *******...
           a ******* unlike anything in *******...
simply because i needed to see their faces
so i couldn't be used as a tool...
    an Isaiah who was cut in half at the torso...
or anyone that was ever pulled apart in half by
four horses...
            it really did require enough lubrication
and the simulation of ***...
                       via a hand-job... snuggling into her
collarbone and up into her neck and nose
teasing her ear sort of way...
                       while the other one: boisterous
                                                and rather annoying
all duck-lipped fake was only given the *******
to tease and in the end served with her ******* as
imitation ****** to be squirted into...
                               but i needed that bicycle accident
to compensate for the unreality of a *******...
as i lay in bed today contemplating
    fluorescent darkness...
        hand extended toward the ceiling: palm facing
me with the pretty fours of knuckle(s)
                 a quick blink... there!
   fluorescent darkness... the form of the hand imprinted
into the depths of closed eyes...
quickly open... close! there! the fluorescent darkness
imprint of the form of the hand...
    
- (yes, the hyphen can act as a topic breaker,
i can become as fickle as a woman
    in that regard, whichever way the wind
blows)
               Tyskie... although i used to be
a Warka Strong fan... i was even a Żywiec
fan... but i'm settling on Tyskie:
truly, nothing better than a cold cold beer
come noon...
                  still hangover...

and no! i will not do one of these genetic tests
to dabble in my ancestry...
    i heard someone say: whatever you're
attracted to culturally... that's where you're from...

for all the barbarism of the Vikings...
they still treasured poetry...
i can be in my odd proportions: at outlier...
but i can still appreciate art...
        i can't be this stereotypical WASP
(white anglo-saxon protestant) **** and
be into sports... thick-skulled money money money...
neither rich: nor poor... happily minding
my own business...
   if Walt Whitman could sign praises for himself
then... **** it... i'll sing my own praises!

Helvegen...
    St. Cyril and St. Methodius did a really **** poor
job of incorporating the Glagolitic script into
Greek... i look at the Cyrillic script and think:
mein gott! what a monstrosity!

Ⰿ - m:eta
            Ⱁ - o:ko
   Ⱄ - s:ow
                
              to choose but a trident of examples...

Matthew's quill... or... harmonica...
or... a reed of grass split in two and breathed through
to create a musical instrument...
wild grass that is... very much unlike a grasshopper...
but at the same time:
memories of cockchafers in the summer months...
catching them in darkness and putting them
under girls' t-shirts...

throwing marbles into dug holes as a game...
the genocide of mosquitos and their
exponential libido...
    or... for that matter: the exponential libido
of all insects and sea-bound larvae...
the monstrosity of all this abundance of
the variety of life...
                    this funnel of existence of almost
everything while above:
the heavenly aura of blue... and beyond that...
the deafening void
   and within that deafening void an implosion
of reality and the discovery of anti-matter...

- most certainly... two things were absolutely
necessary... that ******* (where i wasn't a tool,
and elevated the hand-job)
and the bicycle accident...
now i see fluorescent darkness of forms...
quickly! upon waking... with a humid sun
and humid air... with the blinds of the bedroom
drawn shut...
                  hand extended toward the ceiling...
all fingers and knuckles exposed...
focus on the hand... eyes closed!
  there! the fluorescent imprint of the hand
in darkness... the form of the hand being
fluorescent!

Matthew's quill?
   you can perform the most menial tasks...
Will Alexander is the pristine example...
    you can have the most menial of jobs...
stewarding mass events...
   yet at the same time practice escapism
within the "confines" of art...
          a bit like Heidegger's hammer,
i.e. two labourers hammering in nails talking
about philosophy...
   yet... and yet! it's so rare to find!
so rare to summon!

    because i love the body (exertions)
as much as the mandible-ness of the mind...
language is neither formal or informal:
it's what i want to make of it...
             however idiosyncratic or however
atypical beginning with a dear sir / madam...

more head traumas... give me 20 more years
of drinking before i switch to hallucinogenic
fungus!
before a mushroom mush hijacks my brain
like the mushroom cloud hijacked
and made Oppenheimer take his ego-trip
into reciting the Upanishads...

               now i've become all that is necessary
to be considered alive...
while retaining the drowning vacuum of
res vanus in my 'ed...
       no narrative except what trickles down
onto paper, into encoded sounds...
   that will never capture the lettering of
the sound a crow makes when crackling
a rattle of imitating the burning of wood...

ah... how dreams are spawned...
this grand architecture of the labyrinths of sleep...
how we capture light and project it
into nothing... and prove: mortality will
not salvage the inevitable path toward
a pressing end...
   the silence of the dead and the silence
of the passing...
    even with the immortal hammer of
                      the pillars of humanity that were names
akin to Alexander, Xerxes...
our fickle demands and our daydreams...
  
  we're to be forever elsewhere...
      forever as such never "here"...
an existential gallery...
                   i fear this will be the best we will
ever receive: whether bound to a heaven
or to a hell: this intermediate nuance of what's vivo per se:
i fear eternity will be a case of:
vivo in vitro.... life inside glass...
a sick joke-aside from what could possibly qualify
as genuine laughter...
if we can't laugh now... i'm afraid we won't
be able to ever laugh again...

consecrate the tree against a canvas of blue
and clots of clouds...
ghoulish bundles of cauliflowers thinning out
into a jellyfish expanse...
Travis Green Apr 2023
He doesn’t know how badly I want him in my life
How hungry I am for his ungovernable rugged hunkiness
The way he gazes at me with his dark sparkling eyes
Seamless pink lips, so tasty and captivating
My badass beardazzling smash

He is so rude and groovy with it
So shrewd and smooth as ****
So lovable and unfuckwithable
So irresistible and kissable
Vivid visions of his vigorous gripping exquisiteness
Haunts the frame of my mind

He makes me touch myself sexually
Dwelling on the freshness and majesticness
Of his infinite supreme masculinity
I feen for him, for a chance to be stranded
In his magnetic web of steamy mind-bending dreams

Feel his mighty hearty grip
Bewitch my great shapely hips
With his exceptionally dextrous hands
Let his wave of ebullient oceanic words
Dance upon the canvas of my heavenly poetic existence

I beg for more of his impressive caresses and sexually lit kisses
Slow stroke my heart and soul
Be my pulchritudinous blooming muse
Embrace me night and day, flex for me
My fragrant breathtaking bae

Show me his expressively ****** dance
His mad hot staggering passionateness
Trace every perimeter of my gayness
Escape into his strikingly immaculate wonderland
Brimming with superabundant amounts
Of rhythmic and intoxicating magicalness

The wildest exciting dreams that render me so frenzied
Clambering for an extra taste
Of his contagious vivacious engagingness
Let him tease me with his wicked sweet dish
Drink him down like mesmerizing red wine

Feel him deep in my system
As he hijacks and ravishes my inner walls
Makes my thoughts and feelings tremble
With his sensual sinuous splendiferousness
Sear my elegant velvet confectionary
Make me so endlessly entranced
By his hypnotic, compelling athleticism
Stevie Feb 2021
In my head runs a million visions,
Never believing a word from television,
Social Media on Race causing collisions,
Showing that they run the stories with precision,
Screaming that Black Lives Matter,
YouTube and FaceBook showing Blood getting splattered,
If you are White then you are nothing but a Supermacist,
Rappers are Overdosing and Killing, Legendary Death Benefits,
Saving my life, Music Artist the master lyricist,
Facts and Truth the Immortal Nemesis,
The Government hijacks and run,
Playing mind games just for fun,
hand everyone a ******* gun,
Another killing of a grandson,
Hitting nothing but a homerun,
Under the midnight sun,
Drunk Driver hit and run,

In my head runs a million visions,
Never believing a word from television,
Governmental war games in collisions,
Show how the run the world with divisions,
Selling us all boxes that we open and divide,
Skin Color, Religion, Sexuality is nothing but diversified,
Attacking each other for everything worldwide,
Everyone should be a mortician, inject ourselves with formaldehyde,
breathe in methyl bromide, eat some potassium cyanide,
A world at war,
Humanity no saviour,
In sight, dreams to far,
We all living with delusions of grandeur.
Travis Green May 2022
I am greatly exhilarated
And infatuated with your captivatingness
His hot showstopping flex
Astonishing marvel sauce
Impassioned tattooed rarity

He keeps me in a delirious state
Blazed and bound to him
A glistening irresistible vision
Thick with ripe rich sultriness

His badass flex hijacks my world
Beckons me to incredible heavenly pleasures
Passionately pure treasures
Deliciously romantic and wet kisses
Strong satisfying superstar

He is all I want, all I need to
Stream in my headspace
All the wholeness that wins my soul
Travis Green Mar 2023
He takes me away to a specially selected location
Where he amazes and tastes me, where he hijacks
And ravishes my gaytasticness, raps with my active, attractive Masterpiece, tackles my thoughts and feelings
Makes me so entranced by his brilliant slinky inventiveness

Face to face with his greatness, in a state of nakedness
He takes me outside of my mind, stimulates my vessel
Flexes his astonishingly enthralling hotness
Opens the walls of my inner world
Where he conquers my warm earthy structure

Make me linger in the adventurous relentless sensualness
Of his stunning heart-pumping thunder
I lapse into his 24-karat strapping masculineness
Hankering to be by his side to allow him
To entice me for hours on end

Let him speak to me with his fervent terms
Of poetically shimmering endearment
Send me in transports of delight
Take me beyond robust hot-blooded Mars
Spark my homoness, make me melt
Into his magically moist magnificence

Manhandle me, regulate me, cause me to be at a stand
Let me feel him inside and outside of me
Wrapped up in his lip-smackingly
Legendary and thrashing magicalness
His grooviness is the smoothest **** that gets to me
That finesses me deeply, makes me so high
On his delightable high-powered invitingness

I am so intoxicated by the way he gazes at me
With his bang-up dangerous fieriness
He is like a shot of whiskey surging through my system
So distinctive, ultra-premium, and mouthfilling
So incredibly sippable, a crazy hot symphony in my throat

All I know is that I wanna smoke his big strong pole
Choke on it, behold its dope growth
Revel in the flavor of its contagiousness
Lick it everywhere, slurp on it, cherish his shiny veiny thickness
Watch him swing it in my eyesight
Guide me in the matrix of his engagingness and tastiness

Carry him deep within my innerness
Feel his broad **** pecs, his killer slick abs
Tongue his long, manly thighs and ankles
Venture into the deep well of his aesthetically
Compelling and flexing impressiveness

Traverse in a circular motion with my yummy lips
All around his brutal bonzer *****
Insert his massive badass ******* in my trap
Permeate me with surrealistic sensualities
Let me seek completion within him

Interchange of new-found desires and powerful smoking poetry
Entwined emotions, solid-gold soulfulness
I **** all over his ferociously mind-blowing bone
Dwell in his mantuary of ****** rhythmic litness
As he forces me down on his solidness
Tells me to take all his **** and spew out
Hot salty juice down the tantalizing trail of my throat
Travis Green Mar 2023
When he gazes at me
With his breathtaking brandy brown eyes
He devours my entireness
Slays my nerve cells
Makes me crave his crazy **** captivation

I salivate for a taste of his blazing-hot sexiness
My top-notch chocolate superstar
I need to feel him in my existence
Behold his unclothed machoness
Stroke his big oiled pole

******* it uncontrollably
Play with his low-hanging coconuts
Taste it from the base to the tip
Embrace his incomparable ***** hairs
Let him swing it in my face

Make me so taken with his deep, poetic engagingness
The way he stands before me
As I look up at him with thrilling, joyous excitement
In my deep-set compelling eyes
Make me so **** spaced out
Encased by his exclusive and transcendent greatness

I travel in his passionate spectacular world
Of praiseworthy paradise
Stick his long thick drumstick down my throat
Talk hot **** to me
Make me lust for his monstrous thundering ruggedness

Put his fat juicy nuts in my mouth
Let them jump against my jaws
Run against my tongue
Make me succumb to his destructive unrelenting thunder
Pry into his extraordinary and legendary delights

Massage him from head to toe
Shower him with the hottest honest love
Let him feel my heavenly naughty kisses
On his fashionably flawless flesh
He permeates me with the most scintillating sensations

He makes me breathe heavily
The more he pulls me into his lusciously lovable slickness
Make me worship his firmness
Relish this showstopping stroke session
Throat **** me again and again

I wanna **** and take turns smoking kush
Remain between his thick glossy thighs
Drown into his ardent top-quality ****
Melt into his formidable flexing freshness
As hot sultry sweat suffuses my face

He has me blown away and discombobulated
He flaunts his ****** macho hotness
Preys on my state of mind
Enthralls and taunts my homoness
Fuels the raging fire that burns
Beyond the depths of my underthreshold soul

He shows me his dangerous untamed power
Makes me respect his desirable spontaneous flex
His banging high-powered game
He sends me into a feverish state
Makes me hot and carried away

I am so infatuated with the captivating sweetness
Of his spicy sumptuous manfulness
I feel him inside of me the more I delight in thee
I blossom boundlessly with his huge black monster meat
Moving magnificently in my throat

He stings my bare brown skin
Like a busy buzzing bumblebee
His penetrating stare put a match to my masterpiece
He tantalizes me with his aggressiveness and impressiveness
Hijacks my nakedness, takes me over

And as I lend a helping hand to his tumescence
Treasuring his marvelous marketable artistic work
He spews out a slew of earthy, sticky glue
On the surface of my lovely lustful lips
And prominent photogenic chin
Travis Green May 2022
I wanted to feel him
Deep in my heart
Hold his divine
And royal masculinity
In my treasure trove

Console his soul
Recite my solid-gold poetry to him
Mesmerize his machoness
Breathe in his stellar sexiness

Take in his deliciously dreamy flex
So bewitched by his hot exotic marvelocity
His dope glowing flowingness

He hijacks my breath
Makes me so spazzed out
Intoxicated by his valiance
His powerful build
His bright shining enchantment
Lucky jellani Jan 2020
The earth is shaking,
Or is it levitating and breaking,
We don't know for sure,
Cause we are sleep walking.

Our lives are in danger,
They say don't trust strangers,
All I ask for is us to stay stronger.

Animals get washed away,
They get hurt in midway,
Trees and houses get blown away,
Our hearts are seen as they break away,
We can't do anything but to hope and pray,
That our world will have peace one day.

People have money for wars,
But no food for the poor,
I know I sound like Tupac Shakur,
Just throw your luxury and open your doors,
Go help others and you'll get some more.

The sky goes orange due to the smoke,
And people out there think this is a joke,
Our families are dying and some are in shock,
Though all we get is biodiversity in docks.

Ordering ****** terror and killing,
I don't think it's ruling it's called over controlling,
We don't have a good greet but just farewelling,
To those who are dead and those who are falling.

Increase of fears,
To those who are dear,
Terrorising everyone who we have near,
We are weak and bearing no gear,
Just like we were yesteryear,

Mercilessly launching attacks,
Increase of hacks and hijacks,
Is this our world where people are stuck,
Some of us are hurt and no one has their backs,
Losing their loved ones and all they get is flashbacks.

This has to stop before it's too late,
And people all around are shutting their gates,
Maybe it's fate but I know hate,
Help one another during every state.
Hope my word goes to every mate.
Help one another and stop destruction.
Travis Green Mar 2022
His entrancing ambiance enamors me
He hijacks me in his visual, sensual vessel
Just to cling to him is ever so sensational
He tempts me with his fantastical flex
His swagger of the highest quality
I want to dance in his bright limelight sight

Revel in his smooth, youthful soothingness
Drown in his suaveness, his commanding, sparkling eyes
His mesmerizing vibrancy entices me
Dreaming of melting in his everlasting spectacularity
I want all of him to flow in my veins
Inhale the freshness and sexiness of his wavy hair

Stream in his flawless golden sweetness
In the shimmering springtime
Where the glorious green trees rise
And shake their thick, lustrous leaves
From side to side, delighting in the great magical breeze
I crave to hold him, let our chest press together

Kiss my soft shining neck
My enthusiastic, passionate lips
Marvel at me like a movie star
With his dark chocolate mocha eyes
Love me for a lifetime
Slide your mouth against my skin so softly

Make me blossom with every
Incredibly immaculate contact
I hanker for him to be in my mind
Take total control over me
Capture me in his infinite exquisiteness
A tall dark allure so astonishingly ardent
He makes me feel like a hyper viper
So undyingly wild on him
Bekah Halle Feb 11
How sad? that my initial thought,
When I saw a man in church,
Lead youth out, was: how creepy!
I’m sure he is lovely, but even his looks
Made me lurch,
within myself, and yell: it’s not safe!
This distorted world robs innocence,
Smashes precious platforms and
Hijacks joy.
How do we restore this;
Elevate hope again?
All I have are questions, no answers.
How can we better love ourselves and one another?
How can we extend compassion?
It starts with ourselves!
This happened this morning and it prompted me to write this to make sense.
Travis Green Aug 2023
He commands me with his aggressive energy
Breaks down the door to my core
Hijacks my voluptuous form
With his untouchable lusciousness
Pull me into his magical realm
Of delectable passion

He consumes me like maple syrup-covered pancakes
Like finger-licking bacon and eggs
He makes me float
In the arms of his machoness
Luxuriate in his invigorating scent

My impeccably lovely dream guy
My virilely appealing heavy-hitter
He has me in an **** of enjoyment
The more I rivet my eyes
On his ripped, vigorous deliciousness

Being with him feels like a bewitching
Expedition to sweet paradise
He makes my mouth water
With the way he touches
The deepest depths of my vessel

Again and again, take me down
Make me feen for his sizzling sting
His top-notch monolithic sausage
Put it in my mouth
Savor his heavenly magnificence

He roots me with his massive
Drool-worthy meat clackers
I can’t contain myself
I am beside myself
Immersing myself in all
His masculine dominance
Travis Green May 2022
I want to be deep
Inside his time and space
Listen to his vibrant
And penetrating voice

Escape into his spicy
Rich, distinct, and pleasing masculineness
Delectable and mouthwatering magicalness

I need every part of his hotness
His ever-growing tenderness
Inhale his fragrant, intoxicating aroma
My temptingly masculine Apollo
Potent macho Romeo

He knows he hijacks my flow
With his dopeness
His suaveness
Holds my soul hostage
In his mancave emanating with ecstasy

I am lost in his exotic earthy allure
So fresh and flexing his smoke
He is the impressive, elegant author
Of my heart

He amplifies my focus
He is where my world flourishes
The only man I will ever love
Travis Green Apr 2023
Sweet, vivid dreams
Of his pristine beaming masculinity
Invade my inner woman
Freaky thoughts of him
Toying with my heavy hot knockers
Running his tongue
On my delectable wet pointers

Explore my gorgeousness
***** my velvet ebony neck
Feel me shudder
Feel me burn with passion
Cause me to become wonderstruck
As he deconstructs my masterpiece

Bewitches and kisses me
Defeats and teases me
Hijacks and smashes me
Has me so head over heels
For his world-class strapping attraction

I revel in his **** head-turning freshness
The way he flexes and smells so **** manly
He turns me on with his hunky superhuman muscles
The way he looks at me
With his warm, gorgeous eyes

He has me beside myself with joy
Craving for him to manhandle me
****** into my toolbox
With his ponderous striking hammer
Enamor me, ram me, take me down

Rock me, slay me, make my body bounce
The more he pummels my tunnel of love
Take me in his firm, loving arms
Let me be his sumptuous premium stunner
His exquisite artistic sweetheart

Let him finesse my delicate poetic figure
Intrigue me with his grand rampant litness
Play no games, drive me insane
Give it to me, deeper and deeper
Make me arch my back

Put my legs in the air
And go crazy, mister splashy Daddy
Spit his sweet talk, grab my *** cheeks passionately
Squeeze my crash-hot double whoppers
Travel deep into my temple

Break me down with every ounce of his virileness
Work me, ****** me, swerve in me
Unravel me, ravish me, drink me up like Robitussin
Eat me up like a succulent walnut *** cake
Nut in me, kiss me, leave me delirious with happiness
Kelsie Aug 2020
Here it comes sitting at the top of her throat
overwhelming pain quickly hijacks her heart and soul
Hesitant and afraid she stares blankly ahead
Hoping and praying eventually the emotion will dissipate  
Kneeling on the ground with her head in her hands
Silently crying
It’s all apart of healing her body
Focusing on connecting to her surroundings
Slowly she finds herself back in her body  
Feeling her soul let go of the pain that has been blocking her energy for so long
She finally allows the emotion to flow freely throughout her body
Igniting her senses to support her through her healing journey
Staying focused and in control
Slowly finding the inner peace her heart has been wanting her to find all along
Travis Green Oct 2023
There’s not a man on earth
That matches up against his
Immaculate spectacular attractiveness
His magically splashy masculineness
Vastly formidable, he has me flying high

Floating on a celestial breeze
Starving for his machoness
His honeyed, succulent loveliness
I wanna probe and take possession
Of his macho pole

Stroke it, ******* it
Compose my name all over it
**** his enormous orbs
Let my hands gently move
Up and down his incredible arms

Kiss his defined chest
His chocolate-arched shoulders
So enraptured by his dark ****** hair
The way he oozes sultry smoothness
So hypnotically handsome

My enchantingly magnetic lover hunk
My invincible dream man
I am addicted to his attention-grabbing tattoos
I look into his seductive, russet eyes
Blend seamlessly with his entireness

Get lost in the depths of his mental universe
Cherish the immersiveness
Of his passionate preeminence
Sip on the glistening canvas
Of his sturdy, manly body
Like tropical exotic concotions
Like a mocha macchiato

Handsome hotness, he stops me in my tracks
He fulfills my thousand and one wishes
Hijacks and unwraps my masterpiece
Have dynamic ******* with me
Treasure every part of his
Sensationally **** sensuality

He shines like a sapphire flower
Like a violet diamond
I wanna fall on my knees
Submit to his devilishly appealing manliness
Fill me up with his rich, tasty load

Lick my lips to show my unfathomable satisfaction
Make me spill over with passion
Devour my entirety
Set me afire throughout the enthralling nights
Make me feel his high-octane flame of desire

Lay in his undraped embrace
Share my gay dreams with him
Cuddle and cheek kiss
Face to face, hands to hands
Lips to lips, he melts me like no other

He has me bound to him
Strung out on his high-quality awesome sauce
Listen to his deep, provocative voice
Live in his unendingly blissful hideaway
Feel his gigantic electric power

— The End —