I don't understand
Why we claim we're human
When we tear each other down
Hurt each others feelings
Because we're too small minded
To accept that we are different
Instead we become hateful
Acting stupid and illiterate
**** the minorities' spirits
Make them feel insignificant

We teach every generation
That being gay is a sin
Then turn around and say
We're all God's children
There are so many thoughts in my mind
I don't even know where to begin
So I'll begin with this thing
That they call sin

God makes us exactly
How we are
The differences we have
Are to set us apart
So we shine brighter than the stars

So I don't know why man
Would turn around
And say on judgement day
All gay men will repent and pray
Cause they won't be allowed
Into heaven
Simply because they loved men and not women

Say the "homos"
Are lost and will never be found
The hate towards gay men
Is a sound too loud
The other day
An innocent man who was gay
Was killed by a homophobic crowd
When I heard of this news
My heart dropped and frowned
I don't understand
How man can be so proud
So send an innocent soul
Six feet into the ground

So tell me
You so called Christians
With your egos so large
Who do you think you are?
God said we should not judge
You walk around like you're perfect
But I see a smudge
From the lack of innocence
You carry on your sleeve
With your head in the clouds
Saying God created
Adam and Eve
Not Adam and Steve

Thinking you see all things
Through God
But really
You're blinded by hate
And all I can do is wait
For the day we stand in heaven
And await our fate
And hear God say
To all the men that are straight
"There is nothing wrong
With being gay
Because in my kingdom
That's how these men were made"

I was alone deep within my thoughts lost in nature.
in other words passed out in the park as usual from a night of deep research and binge drinking hey everyone needs a ******* hobby okay.

I was just about to do some deep sea diving I'm kidding it's more like explore the hot tub with Jennifer Aniston and Lawrence hey I bought those goggles why not put them  to some good perverted use right?

When all the sudden I was pulled from my ******* utopia and brought to reality with some strange hamster dressed like a troll throwing bean bags at my head Jesus Christ this is why I stopped passing out in truck stops.

I banish you strange drunken  wizard with a banishing spell .
he said as he kept throwing his strange little bean bags at me I tell you
you have to worry about a man playing with his bean bags in the park I mean sure that kind of **** flew in third world countries like Canada  
but here in the states we had guns so we could protect  areselves and go hunting cause who doesn't love some male bonding?
Or buying a A-K 47  to  blow the living crap out of everything insight .  

**** the woods it's filled with to many fury hippies to began with and what wall doesn't say high class better than some animals head on it looking like it just got prison *****.
Yeah it looks so natural  and dead that is .

But enough with the foreplay and back to the bean bag throwing troll nerd .
Hey man your supposed to exit the playing field after I hit you with that ******* .

The strange dressed nerd said then snickred to with fellow dork homies.
You got to love newbies they don't even know a level 12 troll God from a ***** cave spider.

They all seemed to be smoking crack for they all busted up laughing at this strange little escaped from the asylum hamster.

I wasn't sure if I should just run or try to speak with these odd nerd folk  they kind of of reminded me of Muppets on acid yeah that was a bad trip don't ask.
Boy I never knew Miss Piggy was such a **** or a gymnast.

Excuse me gaydolf 
So  is there so reason you woke me up or are you just off your meds and looking to throw your bean bags at the first drunken in semi coma person you find sleeping on a bench ?

Your not part of the game?

The strange little troll nerd asked me and from the surprise in his voice I could tell this weird little hamster was on some great ******* drugs once told me two things.
One I needed to dump these ******'s like a truck stop burrito.
And two I had to  find out who his doctor was cause I wanted triple of whatever this kid was having .

No sir I'm not part of a game or show unless it's being the judge of a wet t shirt contest cause I do believe in supporting the *******.
Hey **** the whales save the *******  they look awesome and who cares bout the environment duh there's sharks in there didn't you ever see jaws besides everyone knows I'm allergic to water.
That's why I drink whiskey its much better for you besides ever see flipper hop out the ocean for a bathroom break ?


Hey this dude isn't part of the realm were in he's just some old *** drunk.
Another strange hamster said to his Troll friend.

Oh sir I do beg your pardon here take this .
The troll nerd handed me a bottle .
Now this was more like it I kicked it back and tasted the most foul tasting ***** I'd ever tasted in my life .

Dear lord man what is this ****! ?
Umm its called bottled water dude the troll replied .

I looked at the plastic container in a mix of total disgust and hell these kids were into some weird ****.

Water huh tastes like **** what the hells the proof ?  
Umm it's water ******* it doesn't have a proof .

I tried to grasp what the two headed tall one had said but was lost .
How could anyone drink anything not to catch a buzz what twisted sick little ******* had I run across?

I had enough of these strange garden gnomes **** I reached for my trusty flask a hit of some good old 80 proof trying to rid myself of the taste of this poison called water .

Look I do not even want to know what your nerds are up to but unless it involves some hot stripper elves  a bottle of cooking oil and a twister game count me out.

Looking at me like most people do with that mix of confusion and a feeling like they needed a bath there strange leader spoke up.
Sir you have to understand we are larping and on a quest we simply confused you for another drunken wizard .

Well I can understand that my sexually confused  nerd friend but I think you need to seriously go on a  quest with me .

Your on a quest the troll dork asked lighting up like Taylor Swift after just stealing the soul of yet another misguided hamster and brainwashing millions in to believe she actually had talent or a soul I'm just saying .


Yes Gaydolf I'm on a mighty quest to get my magic  staff  blown by some cheap ****** but enough about my ******* wife.
Yeah the internets filled with perverts and if you search long enough you might just luck out and find your very own ****** with a heart of gold or drunken long winded perverted ******* like myself .

Sir I have you know me and my knights of honor are true gentlemen why we need no pleasures of cheap ******  we have the company of each other songs and campfires to drive are passions who here amongst my circle would like to follow this demented nut on some ****** bag quest for the earthly pleasures of the flesh?

The little troll nerd turned around to see his round table of fellow ******'s gone .

What the ****!

We could here his cries as me and my new crowd  of  odd little dressed hamsters were off to the Hotseat ******* in search of ***** ,Strippers and hopefully trick one of these naughty dancing hamsters into a quest play hide the sword in the well you get the point.
cause hopefully someone with some cheesy name like sparkle or Bambi or Candy would .


Sir Gonzo the strange looking Cyclops of my new entourage asked?
Yeah what is it amigo?
Do you not fear the wrath of the troll gods mom?
I mean she did bring us all here in here minivan and all.

Well my one eyed nerd friend in are quests you will learn many things there are to fear .
But nothing far worse than the river of fire that spews from thy staff after a goodnight with the ***** of the back alley.

Oh no worries Sir Gonzo I have plenty of spell packs of penicillin .
Hey does ***** Debra still do that trick with a ping pong ***** and a picture of Kanye Wests face?

We  can only hope my one eyed friend you know I cant believe you know bout ***** Debra I said with a bit of surprise in my already getting there drunken lets get this ******* ****** **** story over voice.

Duh what do you think I am one of those twilight homos sir Gonzo?
My Cyclops nerd friend replied.

that night was epic we laughed we darnk we watched a Canadian cave troll totally make out with a ****** from the magic kingdom  Minnie mouse is such a freak and I know what your saying like the nut that wrote this ***** isn't?

Thank you hamsters that truly means a lot.

Are quest was epic are night spoke of in nerds who dream only to grasp a ***** strippers ******* let alone snort coke off there arses .

I never saw my socially awkward friends again yeah I bet that troll nerd Billy Gates sits even now wishing he truly had grabbed life by the bean bag and sized the day I wonder what ever happened to him.

Stay Crazy hamster .

Always your Captain of the insane

Gonzo

Intro: You know, I don’t care what you’re saying about me.
For I’m not an insecure ***** like you but I do got to thank thee.
For if it weren’t for thy vile venom spitting I wouldn’t have a reason to enact my lyrical terrorism!
So, you only have yourself to blame for this ****, so don’t say I didn’t warn ya.

Verse 1
Uh, yeah let’s talk about it!
Can’t contemplate, the vicious state that contrary to popular belief I’m not a basket case!
Can’t misuse the time I got so here I go to vanquish these fraudulent thots!
Started an unfocused freight train that charged towards the lucid dream because I couldn’t assimilate!
In that time, I was so focused on changing everyone’s snot ridden hypocrisy about reality being Camelot.
I know I’ve also ****** up a lot but that’s something I had to face!
It’s not any of your business so stop ripping off my skin then rubbing in the salt!
I still have a goal in mind to destroy discrimination that incriminates my people,
by putting em on the hot seat.
So now that every one is up in arms I got my chance to aim at the sweet spot!
Everyone is hungry to be the fittest but not everyone has time to think how to be the smartest.
To strike will the fire’s hot or wait for the embers to spark and settle is the true test for an artist.
Who cares about the lines when it was never rightfully drawn in the first place?
Who cares about what spot or space is for you when it’s all been delegated to the privilege of a certain race?
I can only undergo so much disgrace So, sorry but I’m not willing to have my people’s history erased!
Free speech is going to be a ***** for some and a tool for others, I guess it all depends on that person’s poker face.
Inequality is frequent not just in Canada or The United States but every country, province, and common place.

Verse 2
You want the real, raw, unfiltered Classy J well here you go!
Uh, Tell Trudeau to kiss my *** and stop ******* Trump’s ****!
While you’re at it can you tell your father that he’s a ******* stupid *****!
Also, totally forgot but can you tell Kim Jon un when he’s shafting you that he’s a ******* Buffoon!
But’s that’s enough about ******* politics let’s talk about ******* rap artist’s who think they’re hot but really, they so tacky and obsolete like the Zune.
To mister bi-racial we get it you’re into being superficial but’s honestly with you being so focused on being a ****** your delivery showcases the truth that you’re really a cringy ******.
Just face the fact dude that people will only see ya as a juggaloed Dolph Ziggler.
Uh, Now on to the next!
Dear mister Young moolah imma be front, you look like diseased uvula with the lyrical skill comparative to that of an elementary grade schooler.
Now to address the biggest flacky ***** in the game the not so slim shady.  
Here’s the matter Mr. Mather’s you look like a hobo who ***** guys off around the corner,
maybe that’s why you always diss homos.
Because youse a **** trapped in your mommas’ closet,
and if wasn’t for Dre’s hand up so far up your *** you wouldn’t be as popular of a puppet.
Oh ****, Shady you so focused on Doctor Dre and acclaim to fame that you forgot about Hallie.
****, and speaking of Hallie, I feel for you girl because just like you I also didn’t have a dad there for me.
I’m a man of war so every rapper got to get their **** together and better be prepared to me seriously.
For Imma slit their throats and turn em inside out rigorously, and I make sure those tardy cats will rule the day they ever had curiosity.

Verse 3
Just remember my people were here before you, and will be here after you!
And I’ll be here to destroy any of you who dare to pursue native issues!
Or if I’m just bored and feeling like killing you!
However, if I forget about dealing with you, I’m just to busy to properly give a **** about you!
It’s not just revenge, I see it as using justice by retorting with my wordplay to cleanse ya like shampoo!
But I’ve spent enough time dissing freeloaders, for it gives their ego’s too must **** exposure!
I won’t coaster to these composers, for a chauffeur can’t gain an advantage over a soldier!
I wont lower myself to these grouchy Oscar’s, who hunt for Grammy’s;
or as I refer to these events as pedantic half ***’d statements for excepting grandiose toasters.
Why bother, for it’s so annoyingly stupid that I would rather waste my time watching a movie featuring Adam *******.
So, **** this glass ceiling that defines and dictates what makes up a talented rapper.
I may not be a ******* goat but at least I’m confident enough to go out in my birthday suit and retain my composure for being dapper.
That’s the synopsis of my classy brain, and though it may be insane I’m willing to ride this hurricane!
To make sure you know my name, but yet not let myself get engulfed in the flames.

IMMEDIATELY PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF MY INFORMATION FROM YOUR DATA BASE FORTHWITH.  ALSO,
ADVISE ANY AND ALL CONTRACTORS, SUB-CONTRACTORS, AGENTS, SUB-AGENTS, AFFILIATES, PARTNERS, COLLEAGUES, ASSOCIATES, CLIENTS, WEBMASTERS, WEB BASED LINKS, WINKS, TWINKS, COLONEL CLINCKS, BOSSES, CO-WORKERS, EMPLOYEES, VENDORS, SUPPLIERS, SALESMEN, ASCCOUNT REPS/EXCS, ACCOUNTANTS, BROKERS, CO-BROKERS, HACKERS, SLACKERS, WHACKERS, JERKS, PIMPS, HOES, HOBOS, BUMS, DERELICTS, DEGENERATES, DOPERS, DEALERS, TWEEKERS, GAMBLERS, RAMBLERS, SOLICITORS, SIDEKICKS, COHORTS, WINGMEN, WHEELMEN, LOOKOUTS, OUTLAWS, IN-LAWS, RELATIVES, FIANCES, GIRLFRIENDS, BOYFRIENDS, FAMILY, FRIENDS, ENEMIES, EVIL NEMISIS', CANVASSERS, INQUIRERS, QUEERS, QUEENS, COWBOYS, KINGS, ****, DRAGS, HAGS, HETEROS, HOMOS, TONY ROMOS, FEMALE IMPERSONATORS, (PRE OR POST) MALE IMPERSONATORS, *****, *****, VAN *****, **** VAN ****, LESBIANS, LIARS, BUYERS, CRYERS, CIGAR SMOKERS, CARPET MUNCHERS, RUG RATS, TODDLERS, TEENAGERS, YOUNGSTERS, SENIORS, SUCKERS, TRUCKERS, MOTHER shut yer mouth, LAW MAKERS, LAWYERS, ATTORNEYS, JUDGES, POLITICIANS, PECKERWOODS, LEADERS, FOLLOWERS, DISCIPLES, PROPHETS, EVANGELISTS, SAVIORS, SINNERS, SAINTS, SOOTHSAYERS, MEDICINE MEN, GYPSYS, TRAMPS, AND THIEVES, WITCHES, WARLOCKS, VAMPIRES, LYCANS, ZOMBIES, WAR MONGERS, PROTESTERS, SOLIDERS, GENERALS, GOVERNORS, PRESIDENTS, PATRIOTS, PACKERS, LIONS, BEARS, BROWNS, BLACKHAWKS, REDWINGS, RIGHT WING, LIBERALS, OR LAW BIDING CITIZENS, THEY ARE NOT TO CONTACT ME AND LOOSE MY NUMBER.
BUT IF YOU SEE MY MOM, TELL HER TO CALL ME.

............................................................­............BA-ZING..............................................­......................

the older generation
thinks we're all ****-heads,
ritalin-riddled serial killers,
serious ingesters
of buckets-of-blood thrillers,
they look at me funny
when I sag my pants
look at me funny
when I've got my girl in my arms
and her hands on my zipper
moving slowly
to the biggest dipper, too loud,
they say,
too loud,
too much cursing,
too much blood and gore,
too many games about getting money
and running over grannies to get more;
Ren and Stimpy,
and
Bert and Ernie,
two homos
that need to burn
for their sin,
the world is going
to hell in a handbasket.

History has shown
They will **** their own
Before living with others in peace
Have no doubt
That hatred is as nourishment
Sustenance
Subsistence
A necessity for existence
They can not do without

Burning hot as fire within the wretched souls
Of those
Whose evil knows
No bounds
Would **** you
As soon as kick you
Because your skin is Olive or Brown
Or you pray to a Deity
That your life revolves around
The depravity
The corruption
Never cease to be astounded
By

Those that NEED someone to hate

Who would these mongers hate
If successful in their efforts
To eradicate
Everyone who was, from themselves, different?

If they knifed all the *******,
Burned all the *******,
Chopped up all the chinks
Would this, their hate, augment?

If they tortured the towel heads
Killed the catholics
Hanged the homos
Would this, finally, curb discontent?

Or

Would the haters implode
And begin to feed upon themselves

Would short people
Shoot tall people?

Would merely looking at skinny
Make fatty incensed?

Would brown-eyed people
**** blue-eyed people?

Would red hair and freckles
Be a stoning offense?

Would black-haired people
Break blond-haired people?

This is a hate poem…

And hate seldom makes sense…

But sensical or no…
Seems the real status quo
Matters love that we show
There will always be those
That just plain NEED

Someone to hate

They tried so hard to banish me
To eternal non-entity;
They resented my voice
They denied me a choice;
I had to be the type of soul
Adhering to their own goals.
The don’t care what we suffer
They speechify and don’t stutter.

They haven’t been secretive
About the way they’d have me live.
They bellow and bawl their mind
And little of it is anything kind.
They have no obvious compunction
Behind their every injunction.
They point and label me something odd,
Invoke a two thousand year-old god.

They drape themselves in our flag
And shout names like queer and ***
And tell us we are abominations
Not fit to live in Christian nations
But they forget that we all free
To choose what our religion will be.
In truth, they do not seem to care
About anyone’s opinion but theirs.

The hardest thing of all to bear
Is for all the venom they share
Is that this country has rules
That they ignore by being fools.
They want the right to tell us all
Who we can bring with us to the ball
And who we can love or marry.
What a heinous load for us to carry.

There may be nothing quite as egregious
As a congressman all sanctimonious
Who tells us we must not disparage
The sanctity of heterosexual marriage
Whether is his bride number three or four
That’s exactly what the Christianity is for
Because didn’t Jesus himself say
He didn’t want no homos today?

Please I beg you,
to end my life,
Squash me with a shoe,
Grab the hunting knife,

I haven't lived long, I know that now,
But ahead I see, infinite ways for my life to flow,
It's all just a stones throw from my sacred vow,
The world is unbalanced, her sobs and her woes

Guide us all to the future, with the past still fresh
her whispers of sorrow are blocked from all view
If we cannot change she will *******, refresh,
and a new species like Dinos, homos, next in queue

**** sapiens burning the bones,
of dinosaurs, once feared and renowned,
we rely on their power, the system groans,
when it disappears, the masses will groan,

A collective groan upwards of seven billion,
lives in the sand, in the grand scheme so bland,
they moan a tune of immeasurable trillions,
that rest within this vicious land,

And it all flows from positive to negative,
and it all seems so insensitive,
Or perhaps a cowards views are Introspective,
But a retrospective mindset requires sedative,

Collector that is why I have this sickening plea
Think what you wish, I am only me

I'm me, you, us, I'm them.
I'm the living, the dead, I'm the ever still.
I'm the saint, I'm the wicked, the martyr and the perpetrator.
I'm the Homos, Habilis to Sapiens.
I'm the villain, the savior and victim.
I'm the dictator, the revolution and the people.
I'm anguish and comfort in hearts.
I'm the air, the oxygen, and the carbon dioxide.
I'm the shore, the ocean waves and foam.
I'm the ocean, the depths, the beasts and unknown marvels within.
I'm the ground, the layers of stone, sand and remains.
I'm the earth, the atmosphere, and inner core.
I'm the sun, the explosions, and the ashes of time traveling erupted stars.
I'm the planets, far and near, circulating and in a queue.
I'm the moon, and the dwarf planets.
I'm the pitch black hole, and the morose wormhole.
I'm the solar system, the milky way and its lost siblings.
I'm life in the galaxies.
I'm the universe, and the parallel universe.
I'm the big bang, I'm the end of time.
I am, immortality.

The dark is when I can write.
Words work onto my pages during the night.
I can express the emptiness I feel.
It's the only way I recall on how to deal.
Deal with the pain from past lovers.
Deal with the hate from almost step mothers.
Even I'm not invited to my fathers wedding.
**** it, not like I wanted to see him give her a ring.
She said I must wear heels and a dress.
Smile act a bit impressed.
Well mummy oh my,
How the time flew by.
You really don't know me.
I wouldn't lay a finger on a dress you see.
And love if my girlfriend won't be allowed to accompany me,
I am not sorry to say I'm uninterested in your stupid wedding.
Your homophobic lies.
Look at you bat you beautiful eyes.
Honey it is a sin.
God knows you'll find out when...
When what???
When I burn in hell? You ****?
What is God going to do?
He's more accepting that you.
I go to church twice a week say prays every night.
But still according to you I'm doing nothing right.
I'm an abomination to the holy lord.
Wish you could hit my girlfriend with your ford?
Lay a finger on her you can go through me.
So please excuse me.
No I will not go to your no homos allowed ******* wedding.
Who gives a rats *** if your marrying my father.
He sure as hell never treated me like his daughter.
So why even bother.

Park people are winos and homos and cheaters and thieves.
Park people are ugly, when they walk, they wheeze.
You'll find them 'neath bushes under blankets of leaves.
Park people do as they please.

Park people can stand around naked,
Throw up in public,
And not bat an eye.
Park people pick their noses, scratch their ******, *** in alleys,
And laugh so hard they cry.
Park people remember their mothers and their lovers,
Who they left for a bottle of rye.
Strange way for someone to die.

Park people don't care 'bout nuthin,
Cept MD 20-20,
And how to get plenty,
Pre......fur.....uh......bly,
For free.

Yes, the park people smile at you,
And the strange things you do,
To get away from them.
"Spare change, brother?"

are you from outer space
perhaps a rocketeer named Xeno
a galactic traveler
from a long time ago
who we mistook for god
imbued not with supernatural powers
but technology

did we take your decrees to seriously
not to worry
we failed miserably to abide by them anyway
and apparently you did to
hows the celestial war raging

are we dupes
of a deceptive slaver alien race
from the planet Sirius
looking for a source
of grunt labor
miners and builders

ufo oligists theorists believe
perhaps our god is 4 ft 2 in
with gray opaque paper mache like skin
bulging black ball cat eyes
stick gumby arms
and a cratered moon for a head
or are you a projection
of a terrified humanity
with a thunder stick
and a ray gun ******* finger

they say
have faith or else
love you with all our hearts
or else
is that love under duress
what kind of love is that
are they saying your a tyrant
or are the social engineers
who made you up the tyrants
using coercive confabulations
so that we live a myth of lies
and white knuckle terrors
in dark nights of the soul
under threat of
burning in  hell for all eternity

or are we made in your
human image
all man
well muscled
good looking
well hung
and ****** all the pretty slave girl angels
perhaps self abasing Subs
who get all drools doing what ever you say
you the ultimate Dom
a masochists dream
i have to admit
submission is hot
given it hard
to those baby doll goddess angels
i bet
impregnating them with universes
one hella ******
wow what fun

the church and temples of the day
say you don't like queers
abominations you call them
are we sure a bunch of homophobic sheep herders
didn't make that up about you

well inexplicably
you created legions of homos
creels of **** lovers
especially the priesthood
your very special goody two shows lover boys
of course they did marry a male god
and they thought
we are all woman compared to you
your the one with the biggest *****
and the well hung magical **** wand
apparently they perceive  you in each other
how spiritual
those sheep herders are gona freak
if they find out your bi

could it be
that after all this
you really have a soft spot
for  little ***** *** dump
in her pretty
pleated knit dress
twinkling tiera
jutting adam's apple
party girl eye shadow
and clod hopper sized
come **** me pumps

you where less explicit
about lesbians being abominations
i don't blame you for that
i love ******* girl too
***** to *****
**** licking euphoria
honey soft machines
silky tongues
**** to ****
with pink painted toes
wiggly hips
and shimmering lips

oh god i love it when they slow kiss too
us guys could learn a thing or to
from lesbians
when it comes to *******
ay god
there you go working in mysterious ways again

Feelin' untouchable
Even though my mind is forceful
Telekinesis compellin' my adversaries
They had no choice but to bury
There own grave im far from saved
Since hells on earth I aint got no worth
Now media playin' hard to get
Puttin' every one of us in the caskets
Crooked *** cops cases get dropped
Cant get a job so we slanged rocks
And when they see us come up
They quick to lock us up
Society say we the ones corrupt
But **** that **** !!
Im some rebel what about reparations
For slavery??
Forty acres and a mule
Only thing we got was servin' the tool
With drugs n liqour in the hood
We killin' each for mild goods
Open up your mind with my mental nine
Call me hyprocritical but yall asinine
Still sayin' **** youuu to the churches
They God love us how nigguh?
We was lynched and burn for free nigguh?
Back in the days im throwin' shade
If you dont like it come n raid
Bring the pain to me and ill make yall ******* flee
Instead of being carry by six
Id be judged by twelve of the grand jury
N dont mourn me
Went i depart from this home
America's a ***** but i know yall say im wrong
Retrace back history
They repeatin' the same steps they did to my ancestry
Label me a **** *** outlaw raw
With this tell and when they come for me
My guns will be throwin' up
Got my mind made up word up


What about the homos rights?
****** now goin to come with the fights?
Crime shame community misguided and untamed
**** wish we i could turn back the hands of time no reason or rhyme
Got **** fools is switchin' to female roles
Got these thots takin' control of the household
Where the real men at?
Too busy in tight pants tryna pack a gat
Gay thugs lookin' sweeter than sour patches straws
Since you trick ***** open up yo jaw
Uh i know i might catch alot of hate
But dont give a **** about ****** rate
The enemy to man is thyself
Check yo self before you wreck
No respect
For our elders fools is jackin' for dumb ****
Tryna gain stripes off of weak kills
Why cant we team up and ****** the Capitol Hill
But these so called real nigguhs to scared
To face off but will off
One there own flesh n bones look for the drones
They watchin' our every instinct my eyes dont blink
Cuz if you do you'll miss the truth
They spreading hate and deception
While we headed for a depression
So much aggression
Makes me wanna load my smith n wesson
Now i got them ******* stuck
This is hold up
Robbery is the only way to go
I got my mind made uppppp!!!



By: Cedric McClester

You call ‘em *******,
Sissys, homos
Like it’s the thing to do
But what has any of that
Got to do with you
Why do you feel threatened
By their lifestyle
And what gives you the right
To attack ‘em anyhow

You call ‘em *******
Though it’s derogatory
Now you got me wonderin
What the hell’s your story

You see a gay guy
And you get so upset
Whether or not
He's approached you yet
Now here’s the question
That you ought to ask yourself
What’s inside your closet
Hidden on the shelf

You call ‘em *******
Though it’s derogatory
Now you got me wonderin
What the hell’s your story

See I’m not advocatin'
Either pro or con
But I believe
Discrimination truly is dead wrong
No one should be attacked
Because of who they are
That’s takin one’s hatred
A giant step too far

You call ‘em *******
Though it’s derogatory
Now you got me wonderin
What the hell’s your story

Live and let live
Is my philosophy
All I ask of anyone
Is to let me be
In return I’ll treat ‘em
With utmost respect
Never mind emotion
I’ll use intellect

You call ‘em *******
Though it’s derogatory
Now you got me wonderin
What the hell’s your story

See I’m not advocatin'
Either pro or con
But I believe
Discrimination truly is dead wrong
No one should be attacked
Because of who they are
That’s takin one’s hatred
A step too far

You call ‘em *******
Though it’s derogatory
Now you got me wonderin
What the hell’s your story



(c) Copyright, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.

See sometimes I feel like i'm in a cage , trapped in a cell
I believe in God but whats going on in earth must be hell.
Everyone backstabbing just gain power and money, throwing money at honeys
What goes around comes back around but they think its funny.
The government working against us, thought it was only black
But they don't care about justice a heart they lack.
We suppose to feel safe when cops are around instead we fear because they get away with everything without a sound
Look at the news transgenders and homos has the spotlight
Knowing thats a bunch of bull but everyone acting like its right
See everyone losing sight.
Kids suffering, people dieng of hunger
But whats the story? We don't have much longer
We got a black president allowing residents to manipulate his own race
See I don't need to curse to get my point across, i'm still writing the realest stuff who don't like it its their loss.
Rappers rapping about ****** like they actually **** knowing someone does their ***** work just for a bill.
nah man i'm tired looking around at people playing each other looking down at the real ones they take for clowns
Living in a system where i'm afraid to walk out my house because I'm black
Framing me for crack like i had a sack.
look around do you think anyone really care? We live in a world that's far from fair having everyone living in fear.

-dpk

Wake me up all pretty and neat
Just in time to take our seats
Pretending to be nothing, not even imagination
We blissfully enjoy an overactive stagnation
A parade of novelties passes us by
Provocative gestures masquerading as lies
Let’s play hide and seek while they pause
In the space between these words, I’ll bet there’s a cause
Hopefully we find some strange familiarity
Or at least a lack of sophistication or clarity
“Ladies and gentleman!” he says, with notable affliction
And we all turn and stare, entranced by the addiction
Meanwhile...
The computer desk protests munch greedily on their controls
And the Hybrid driving pseudos’ snort coal up their nose
“Send in the clowns!” he shouts
And the lollygags cheer
Then the homos and sapiens share in a beer

God’s Gifts to Us

I’ve been reading them for days now –
A group of sad or angry, dark or humorous
LGBT poets who – despite the fact that
My middle initial is “G” – outshine me
In every way.

Not because they’re L, G, B or T, mind you,
Nor because they’re Christians.  Because they’re
**** Good!

I’ve described a mentor of mine thus:
She taught me “X,” but she really taught
Me to teach.

So when I read these men and women, I
Could say they’ve taught me to write,
And mean it!  

To borrow the title of another poet,
If Jesus were gay – thank you,
Emanuel Xavier, I think our savior
Would approve.

Since I’ve borrowed from Mr. Xavier,
I guess it’s legal to borrow from a poem
I wrote, Coloring Kids.  Color is a
Favorite theme of mine, be it
Crayons, skin, purple or artist’s blotches.

/Teachers may have red pens which can
Strip away the dreams of a child holding
A bigger-than-life yellow magic wand
In his fingers.  

Priests, exacting confessions prematurely,
Wear collar and stole, no matter the sin,
To blanch milk-chocolate souls, prescribing
Fiddling with rosary beads.

Nuns, black and white, decked out in
Paisley prints these days, follow suit./

My colors and Mister’s crayolas are
Kindred spirits.  When I read many of
The startling poems of these LGBT poets,
I smiled out loud, or giggled softly.
In some of their work I could hear

Them speed up:  Giving a reading,
Perhaps – my heart fluttered hearing
In my mind the words of Mr. Holyoake’s
The Thief  - and I think yours would

Skip a beat or two if you read the poem.
I also recommend the poem of Ms.
Heidenreich, not because she shares her
Name with my Junior High reading teacher,

But because of the awesome words in
I wanna be like Jesus:  then surely Jesus
Loves the little homos or at least is
In touch with “the little gay man in
All of us.”

I suppose one might consider this a
Rave review of my Christian brothers’
And sisters’ work:  I give thanks to Him
For giving it to us.

.poet, or philosopher, it doesn't really matter which is which, or whether the two are indistinguishable, notable in the former scenario, when someone has an eclectic bounty of interest is simply not love-scorned or love-nostalgic, love-idealistic, does it really matter? i was once called a philosopher: a teenage girl said in third person (as if she was a puppet and some-thing was moving her tongue): 'talk to this philosopher'... not in that sarcastic way that philosopher is an misnomer or an abused term of: self-gratifying grandeour, it was quiet genuine, but: imagine my shock... i had an ambition in life, it was to perform a service to thinking: without doing as much as hammering a nail into a plank of wood, that's the ambition of any thinking man: to borderline on telekinesis or telepathy... that was Hegel's modus operandi, his categorical imperative... after all: ego is a metaphysical tool, while thought is its metaphysical canvas... the mere suggestion that a copernican inversion can happen in physics "contra" metaphysics... it's already apparent, any word can behave like a hand touching the sacred object / subject of transfiguration and become something else, even a misnomer can find itself given solace to the user... for now i've forged a belief in the ultimate: away from the absolute in relation to omni in unum - one first has to learn to think, before having to learn to feel... mind you, i don't like the current nietzschean inversion of the cartesian equation: (ego) sum ergo (ego) cogito... esp. among the youtube political commentators, too many examples to give: i'm a classical liberal, i'm a progressive, i'm a liberterian... i don't really like seeing: i am, precede i think... i don't even like the origin-argument of this inversion: i exist for the sole purpose of thinking... after all: i think prior to being, since i can also daydream and not be what my thinking suspects as a possible truth-outcome... that's the nature of the freedom of thought: i don't have to be what i think, i can find thinking to be a pleasure, when the senses do not offer me any pleasure derivative, e.g. eating can sometimes be boring, chewing, chewing, *******... i eat because i need to live: i don't live to eat... i really have under-appreciated Hegel, i should really visit my grandparents for two months and read the phenomenology of the spirit: i'm trying to replicate the saying attributed to him (verbatim), but i doubt that i will, i don't have the patience to sift through all the quotes, but it goes along the lines of: beware oh wordly man, to not be a pawn in a thinking man's game... hence my suggestion of philosophy entering into the realms of telekinesis and telepathy: you get to see things play out and people express the origin story, of your own memetic generation of the original idea... how are poets finally alligned to philosophers? good thing that i studied chemistry at edinburgh university: we return to atoms, words are no longer enough, sure, they are, contrary to the statement...  (why did i under-appreciate Hegel? ah... had my head stuck up heidegger's and kant's *****...

integration? great!
but i'll meet you halfway...
i'll eat your fish & chips,
your englush breakfast,
i won't sing your anthem: god save the queen,
****** anthem, too short,
but i will whistle through:
the british grenadiers' fife & drum...
like i might through la marseillaise...
i'll meet you halfway...
i'm not a former colony member,
commonwealth,
i'm not some ****- paying bribes
to the british powers
to join in on a world cup of cricket...
this is what happens when immigration
turns sour...
they either lesrn the host tongue,
or they don't learn it...
or they can't distinguish the two:
speak polonaise at home,
speak the hosts' sprechen outside of it...

if the ******* aren't suspect:
by not being bilingual...
the arab beatles... jihadi john...
ringo star h'ahmed...
george ali...
paul mecca rashid...
oh i'll settle for integration...
but don't you ******* think i'll give
up my mother tongue
for "c.c.t.v." close-ups back home,
home being my private lodge...
like ******* will...
i'll speak your tongue in public...
but i'm not ******* former commonwealth
****- riddled with a need to play
cricket, "forget" my tongue in order
to compensate for olives
and sun-burnt bananas!

a former colony ****-**** is about
to dictate the rules for fellow
europeans, on the tram-ride from
Birmingham to Nottingham?
seriously?
but of course the englishman
will favor the former colony pet bush-monkey
from sri lanka...
since the brit can't really dictate
to a fellow european his superiority
complex... which he can...
with a petted copper skinned
toy-ting...
who brought 'im a korma curry!
nice one, ol' laddy...
right on the plonker...
i'm not finished!
i'm just getting started!

gehirnablassen:

perfectly respected immigration,
given that so many english girls just love
the attention their **** minders,
sexually abused,
not really making it as nurses
or... ahem... karaoke superstars
worth the while of britain's got talent
or voice of britain,
or...whatever the ****** show was
that gave birth to one direction...

so a.... brain-drain? good immigration?
the best!

i can sit awhile by myself and count...
1. the sparrows,
2. the swallow,
3. the starlings,
4. the crows,
5. the magpies,
6. the pigeons,
7. the woodland pigeons
(fatter, with dog collars),
8. kestrels
(one is enough to begin
the count)...
9. the blackbirds....
10. seagulls... seagulls?! 25 miles from
romford to southend! seagulls?!
this far in-land?! fair enough...
11. a robin...
12. goldfinch...
i just sit and watch these birds
in my garden, i sometimes spot
a darting frog in the garden,
i'm more english than the english...
i actually enjoy owning a garden...
the "english" surrounding me
exemplify a bbq. as a luxury parade...
what's so luxury about marinating
some meat, and then grilling it?!
please! enlightend me!

gehirnablassen...
brain-drain immigration,
the type asiatic tiger-mums brag about
at child olympics...
for the required rubric stature...
******* mothers, basically...

)  notes to preserve completing
what remained: pending...

1. χaron χaos - cha-cha-cha       khaos / chaos...
2. theaetetus - so / ma   letters / syllables:
graphemes: sz phi theta
compound syllables (caron s) - Na (sodium)
3. music choice...
brain damage perturbator ft. noir deco
virga iesse floruit, gradual of eleanor of
britanny...
4. pride / stubborness (not equal to) honour,
tolerating islam is not the same
as respceting islam...
german 19th century fascination
with islam...
θought and φilosophy...
greek in warsaw, giving him directions,
talks: sounds so much like spanish...
5. england a nation of singletons,
idiosyncracy... social pressures in poland
and even in h'america missing in england
to marry...                                         (

1. well, let's begin...
        it has taken me two days to complete
my utterances... i've just spent 40 or so minutes
listening to the last of the youtube
stronghold (dangerfield -
               from hash to ******) -
i can relate on the literature,
i can't relate in taking steps of replica...
i started smoking marijuana
aged 21... i think you should start later...
drinking while being a teenager, fine...
i hanged around with some irish in my teens,
we used to have sleepovers at youth clubs
play pool, buy ***** mags and drink
white lightning: bumb cider...
but given that i was sold chemically
enchanced (negatively, i might add) marijuana
that turned me psychotic...
ah... psychiatric terms, used by the mainstream
like some casual metaphors...
     recently i was at a health scrutiny hour...
yes: my psychosis was made stable in
a schizophrenia: which is a new word to describe
bilingualism... oh the english natives!
what competent people...
  no, it didn't become bipolar: psychotic depression...
lucky me... lucky in that:
           bukowski: isolation is the gift...
the rest are a test of your endurance...
no **** sherlock!

  i just look at all the particular instances
when english (the language) breaks rules...
    heidegger merely pointed out
that there's a difference between chaos
and χαoς: well cheap and cha-cha-cha...
but when it comes to the ferryman?
some would say: χαρoν...
otherwise? do the raj bidding of inserting
a surd H... nibble at the tetragrammaton...
   and call the ferryman κ - αρoν
                                            (h)...
this isn't the only example: cheap, chisel...
        chemistry... it's not chem-ístree...
      it's kem-ístree!

2. poor *******, the english,
   they can't discuss orthoraphy...
hardly, to begin with:
what with i (ι) and j (ȷ) -
you have already cut the diacritical heads
of come the CAPITALS: I & J...
what a simple hydra to vanquish...

2. theaetetus - so / ma   letters / syllables:
graphemes: sz phi theta
compound syllables (caron s) - Na (sodium)

                     i like this one...
   letters, syllables, graphemes,
sodium: Na...
  the key and the door analogy of the keyhole...
feminism: it wants to coagulate...
to group existentialism with
scholastism...
sorry honey... play your footie:
*******!
                    key being inserted:
φought enters θilosoφy....
yes, the graphemes are elevated,
beyond the stature of consonants...
didn't you ask?
oh, you should have asked...
- socrates: can yoy give a rational account
                    of syllables, but not of letters?
- theaetetus: it seems possible.
-socrates: quiet; i think so too. at any rate,
surely you'll have an answer about the first
syllable of 'socrates', if someone asked
'tell me, theaetetus, what is SO'?
- theaetetus: yes, my reply would
be that it is S and O.
- socrates: so there's your account of a syllable,
isn't it?
    - theaetetus: yes.
- socrates: all right then, tell me alao of your account
of S is.

sorry... after this point, for B to be a surd?
bottomless pit... let's ask what is a letter,
what is a syllable... and what is a grapheme...
the greeks bargained on dialectical markers...
which they dind't need, since the latins needed them...
what is a syllable is also: what is a grapheme,
and how to account for "strange" vowels?

the greek thought, they thought,
"thinking" that only the greek language
was correlated to universal thinking...
and that universal thinking was only associated
with greeks speaking... pish-poor choice
if you mind...

         syllables... individual letters...
weren't consonants synonymous to syllables?
esp. with added diacritical markers?
play-tongue-think-tank with the greeks...
sooner or later they fizzle out as
redundant...
         couldn't keep Constantinople...
will not regret or revive the bounties of
reclaiming Istambul...

i once claimed to tolerate islam...
tolerating islam is one thing...
    respecting islam: quiet another...
i can attempt myself at
respecting a cloning device...
which any religion is: a cloning device...
i can tolerate it...
which, doesn't imply i respect it;
i wouldn't eat a meal with a muslim...
and sharing a meal?
is my fullest acknowledgement of
respect, i tolerate islam,
i, tolerate it,
   thank **** i don't respect it.
respect it like some 19th century german
philosopher... hegel or nietzsche....

what is a syllable "compensated" by
a grapheme, esp. with a hidden consonant,
akin to the caron "s"...
      i.e. šeep: look at that...
the first time orthography was introduced
into the englishsprechen...
   hid the H: šeep... sheep...

well we already know where the greek
letter went to: modifying scientific
constants... after all π = 3.14....
    Σ = summation...
            last time i checked...
letter, whether consonant or vowel
orientated,
took up more meaning beyond
translating the optic of encoded
sound into expressed sound...
    they became surds...
          tools to think with,
only secondary sound symbols...
you no longer translated the representation
of the sound,
there was an idea behind the letter...
disguised as a "letter"...
chemistry minded the syllables:
Na: sodium, salt...
   and that was that...
              
  fai(s) çe q'(u)é voudrā(s) -
written, but otherwise a surd...
fwench has the most examples...

3. music choice...
brain damage perturbator ft. noir deco
virga iesse floruit, gradual of eleanor of
britanny...
     mind you, i will gladly whistle about
three songs while walking...
this is the part where i become an arrogant
*******... teaching yourself does
that to a man, there's no pride in being
lectured, ordered to regurgitate...
for all that pomp & circumstance
that makes pride & prejudice shy...
    she should have always been
first choice on the fiver banknote...
jane austen my ***...
            mary shelley was the dog's *******,
through and through...
the three songs i sometimes whistle
while walking, taking a whiskey for a walk
(good thing i don't own a dog)...

a. beethoven's symphony IX
     allegro assai vivace - alla marcia...
b. la marseillaise...
   c. british grenadiers - fife & drum...
shhh...
    (for all the worth of shakespeare's
poetry... robert burn's:
aud lang syne...
        hell... i can't write sing-along poetry...
poetical commentary...
which still beats poetry worthy of
thee theatre...
shakespeare, no shakespeare...
aud lang syne:
   old long gone song, refurbished)...

5. england a nation of singletons,
idiosyncracy... social pressures in poland
and even in h'america missing in england
to marry...

       isn't it obvious? england is a metal
asymlum when you wish to see it as such...
somehow and "suddenly" all the social
pressures disappear when nagging either
a polonaise society or a h'american society...
i'll be critical of applied english,
as a language...
but when it comes to living?
               second to none... when i was younger,
and growing up in poland
the english were know as gaylords...
or the bellybuttons of the world...
now, having grown up among the irish
in the outer east-end of Loondon?
want to talk to a 6ft1 115kg "******" about
his lack of obsession with marital status?
his complete disinterest in dating?
what's a dating app?!
                 the same kind of "******"
obsessed with templar chants?
dabbling in helvegen?

  dating... what a weird concept...
whenever i get a chance, i'll sit with a thai
surprise (bisexual, female)...
manage to take her home, play her some
jazz... **** her in the garden...
                            walk her home...
"date"... when it comes to prostituites...
when it comes to prostitutes...
    britney spears  - criminal,
     rihanna - shut up & drive,
   lady gaga - telephone
                       holly valance - kiss kiss
delta goodrem - innocent eyes.....
gay boy got gay rights...
what a boring time to be alive in...
just when homosexuality was no longer tabooo,
norman stephen "typo" *******...
boring homosexuality...
  antithesis artistic homos...
gays are boring me with their antics,
i'd also love latex love triangles...
but...
  i'm not joining in,
since i haven't been made welcome...
         welcome this:
the rightful pucker of a knuckle count's worth
of a sucker!

    i've experienced only: 3, loves at first sight...
kot... i rememher her surname,
she was the first to kiss me,
aged, roughly 7...
    priya.... my ex-girlfriend's
younger sister...
                          isabella of grenoble...
who took my virginity...
oh, ****...
        there was freckles galore daniella...
at st. augustine's... rabbit to her...
there was... milena...
there was samatha...
                there was jadwiga...
                       there was janina...
i fell in love too many times...
there was ilona of novosibirsk...
   gregoria who licked my face
like a cow...
                 the ukranian *******,
the bulgarian prostitutes who i stole
kisses from,
the serbian strippers...
   packaged boy,
  postcard ****-acto...
                 the australian fling...
half hindu half scouser...
towering beauty with the looks
akin to tweety bird lips (as my irish friend
noted)...

women... ah ha ha...
           i guess 3 months is long enough
for me to be with them...
    last time i checked, she was on her period,
and i was gagging...
last time i checked: ******* a *******
her period alleviates the period pains...
she didn't let me,
instead? i received a week
bound to reading Bulgakov...

           condoms are great when used
to **** a ******* her period...
that's how i started to hate relationships...
*** monopoly..
   and readings from cosmopolitan magazine
about the out-dated
idiosyncracy of relationship statuses...

4. pride / stubborness (not equal to) honour,
tolerating islam is not the same
as respceting islam...
german 19th century fascination
with islam...
θought and φilosophy...
greek in warsaw, giving him directions,
talks: sounds so much like spanish...

     i can tolerate islam,
but, i can't respect it....
    how could i respect it?
           i met a greek in warsaw....
he sounded like a goth,
     how the spanish tongue sounded
much akin to the greek zunge...     

chamaleon tongue,                    shape shifter,
bez akcentu w piśmie - więciej akcentu poza pismem
(trainspotting scottish), welsh, cockney,
east london altogether, pakistani english, etc.
e.g. rather, or raver, i.e. not rayver
(someone who parties at night on an ecstasy pill)
but ra'ver, like verging on a new discovery,
it's not even the = ~v but is actually v...
english is a chamaleon tongue, you say 'nostic
when you write gnostic, i say diagnostic,
therefore say gnostic, you say 'nome, i say gnome,
as cf. with diagnostic;
then there's the case of the per se:
you say chamaleon - no kappa there apperent, eh?
but there's chappie, chap, chuckles,
no kappa in a millionth chance
to also say nough'ledge for knowledge,
a bit like that gnome of yours...
as i said before: a language without
a written insertion of stressors / distinctions
will produce a massive array of diacritical
stressors / distinctions outside the written format,
but it will also become as complex as to
allow adults with learning difficulties e.g. dyslexia,
and that horrid internet slang of shortcuts:
i ate my 8 when i was late for my disco date
with the cha cha cha melon.

          mind you: i always seemed to "mis-pronounce"
words in english... first came puma:
i was laughed at on a primary school bus
heading from st. augustine's (half-way between
gants hill and barkingside) to the barkingside
swimming pool: where i learned to swim
by myself, very much akin to me learning
the english language, by myself,
dropped into the deep end,
i was a complete mute...
my parents were also learning the zunge...
so they couldn't exactly teach me,
i had to learn it myself...
      so it wasn't puma: with that hollowed
out U...
      i.e. pú-mah... it was: pew-mah...
or piu-mah...
           weird...
                   then i found other examples...
i was once more corrected
when it came to the celts...
                       it wasn't cedilla "riddled":
çelts, but Kelts...
    funny that... the football team from glasgow
is dubbed çeltic, not celtic: isn't it?
i loved being corrected about my
pronounciation... get corrected enough times,
and then... light: you get to sprechen such
things as:
   what sort of orthography aesthetic discussion
can i have with an englishman,
when his sole diacritical markers
hover over an ιo: iota: i / ι...
   and that dotless antithesis of java - ȷ -
like in dante's canto XXVIII:
                               Bertrand de Born,
two completely pointless orthographical -
as i would rather call them:
indulgences rather than errors,
otherwise not necessary...
             excess spelling... and particular,
hidden, pronounciation variables...
that's as much of an orthographic debate
you will ever get from an englishman,
given their lack applied diacritical markers...
hey... if the english speaking peoples
love their "reality" chequers...
   their metaphysics...
           i have something as pertinent, ready,
orthography is far more interesting
to me than the grandeour of metaphysics...
so now we have to figure out
the third sister... given the already associated
benzene ring directions of associating
compound groups:
   ortho-,
                      meta-,
                            ­           para-...
  can't just leave it to paranorman / -"normal"...
para- needs to be associated with something
else if we're going to venture
with orthography and metaphysics
and further...

    another decent example?
       gnomes...           gnostics...
why is the g treated as a surd at the beginning
of the word, hence? 'nomes hence 'nostics...
but all the more apparent in a word like
diagnostics?
                               i guess i've found my
new playground: the english vocabulary.

p.s. if there's a hay patch at the beginning, the nasal flute
will ask larry 'the lynx' saxophone to hark it out with rasp
gritting of phlegm... but if it's somewhere else down
the piccadilly line... it will act like a nudist spy and resonate
less than expected; probably mingling with f, i think.

i can just imagine 9 months of explicit oral ***; and a sack of *******, and a foetus; oh, and frogs, loads of frogs... mammalian-amphibian: croc & ostrich in an egg... one ends up with a pretty smile, the other, with a sprinting pair of legs... never mind the penguin complaining about the lack of flight.*

you've had a few, and you're pretending to
be a boa digesting his mustard infused
chicken, you've drank the white wine,
had a headache, you brushed it off by
a blitz plop of **** and a half an hour walk
to the supermarket for the heartier liquor,
you overheard a conversation about
weddings and cultural exchanges
with 14 day weddings with one of them...
you walked back home: huh...
      question mark much latter -
i.e. ! think therefore ? am...
       or is that ? therefore ! am...
never know...  
        so doing the boa, listening to a gay
guy talking with a woman...
now i know why i'm a man...
i could never do so much talking...
          ****? is it **** when you're watching
a pregnant woman ******* and
find it erotically satisfying?
   just saying, talk of god, death or hades
among these fully formed pseudo-amphibians?
yep, that's what evolutionary biology
teaches us: whales are partially dogs,
dolphins are partially cats,
  and men predating monkeys are
partially frogs...
so we emerged from poseidon's bubble...
is it just me or are pregnant women
the most sacred erotica magnet available,
it's almost like the inverted man,
although the inversion is:
  well: ain't no tadpoles in there my darling:
something's brewing...
takes 9 ******* months to brew
that cartilage stew... **** me...
  who said **** was about *******
all the "pretty" ladies?
              hey, i'm just the cul de sac of
what's sent down the trash line,
      see any videos of me jerking off?
so? supply &, demand.
       nonetheless i have to reiterate:
ever watch a civilised conversation
between a homosexual & a woman,
esp. one above the age of 40?
   match-made in heaven...
            you know you're a man
my son (rudyard kipling style) -
    when you realise that:
you can't shut these two ******* down!
don't bother, as a man you will not
ever reach a platonic relationship with
a woman, platonic relationships exist
between men & women, provided that
the man is **-mo'h...
        gays can talk with women,
men can't... it's a simple fact...
            homos can be the girlfriends,
men prefer (in the extreme)
of drinking while looking into a mirror
for company...
believe me when i say:
if you're gonna drink, drink...
  but never, ever, do so before a mirror -
narcissus will rob you, you and all your
cognitive possessions...
only gays can talk to women to
the satisfaction of a woman's "concern"
for conversation...
     hey, if we're reducing it beyond
medieval and into the cave:
       you wanted this sort of shortening of
history, quantum backlash into the present,
then retraction into the seemingly never-ending,
then back into tomorrow...
    i can't be critical of biblical text
being "unfavourable" about homosexuality,
i look at the context and think:
you're right, back then, we had a limitation
on pursuing the continuation of a "species",
last time i checked, the idea of a "species"
was called grandpa...
                   beside the point...
****, can we eject the eunuchs from the harem,
and get a few homosexuals in here
to talk to these concubines?
        they seem to be yawning more
than moaning...
             maybe the tongue-****** will
stimulate them...
             as they say:
the best friend of a woman is... a homosexual;
we should start breeding these men
for this reason alone...
         to talk, with women,
all that phallatio really oils up the vocal
chords it seems...
  who am i to judge...
               given that man best understands
woman in syllables oscillating O and other
respective onomatopoeias.
   ah, lucky girls,
   i remember in school, this one gay guy
had about a harem of 6 girls,
     talked to them,
talked to them sweet, me with my long hair
and braid... surrounded himself with them,
but all he wanted was me...
      likewise, replica...
   7 of us, playing cards during lunch breaks.

you know, cats prefers feathers of crows, to yarn ***** of synthetic wool rolled up into "playthings"... oh wait, i'm white, i have not base in providing knowledge, only copper-skinned people are wise... use whites are a piglet's word short of extinct... go! sinjit! go! turbans plop! go! bunch of queen sheba hoes... the wanking patronage of lahore's preserved existence.

which just shows how many actual cat-ladies
there are out there in the world -
and the mystery of missing cats being
explained:
even the ****** cats go missing
with these women,
me? i can't get rid of my maine ****
male...
****** rapes me, with his presence!
******, please, *******!
****** comes back...
says: your bead, mine...
   what am i, ******* flintstone shortcut...
and yes, i think that whoever "conjured"
up the idea of a yarn ball of wool as
entertainment was wrong,
you pick up a feather of a crow,
dip it into your makeshift dip of ink,
and then give it to your cat..
watch it pretend it's a dog with a bone...
and then see the lullaby...
by the way, how do you get a cat's
respect?
     you either sleep at much as they
do: of you beat them at their sleeping pattern...
i've managed to sleep longer than cats,
which also means i am guardian of
their toiletry pattern -
  the female maine **** prefers to be
petted when she's incubated by
a boa tightening of a hold -
the male? just an empty bed and a crow's
feather, then he snoozes,
and i shed a dear:
listen to some johnny cash,
and feel complete...
        and then i compare that to
the islamic rites of prayer,
the way you wash before making dues -
which is so much against;
******* with the dues of
elevating the necessitated
*******..
              while shaming the actual
efforts, that overshadow both
psychiatrist, & priest...
           i shame the dog-collar
bigots, and the psychiatric ******
insipid conjurers of "hope"...
who deserve as much tuxedo
as a straitjacket...
and a lot of these "doctors" have
a woman lying by their side:
which is always a bad sign...
none of them a dog, or a cat...
     ever heard of a serial killer with
a cat, or a dog as accomplice?
me neither! go fetch!
      aport boy! fetch!
         sing my a *******
johnny cash song you ******* '****.

why is it, that journalists suddenly
think they're the respectable class
of profession?
      no one respects journalism
after the *milly dowler scandal...
   really? the best they can do is do that,
or simply troll?!
       **** it, i'll **** the rest of it...
there's no point in asking, pleading,
regressing, or revising...
    it's like asking for a monkey
to act as a ghost and instead of
stating ooh! stating a boo!
         sure as **** a jew got hurt with
missing H...
oh right... a pole said it...
the vermin class...
      nibbles nibbles...
rats got you nibbles...
      show-as your leggings -
i'll pride a nibble!
    not so proud then...
  what a shame...
      the usual sussex nuns come along:
and state the atypical ENGLAND,
entertaining as about three quarter's
worth of saudi arabia;
retracted in the comment section,
mostly by homos,
         or people who read as much
of a the ideal mention of headlines in newspapers...
then channel four says:
e ain't no ****!
     oh, wight, whites on whites...
**** ju ju juicing for the cumin
and coriander paste...
      finally!
multicultural england!
    i can finally bash a **** without
being called an anglican west ham supporter...
and?
if i don't get away with i?
  applause! manchester 2.0!
  or do i have to remind you, that my ethnicity
was called vermin?
      you know how turban bashers are born,
how these turbanators are born,
and orientate around muslims rather
than sikhs, and how you should have
read the placard, of the polish r.f.a. pilots
who fought in the first world war?
come next ****, i'll make another japatti.

and there was a Fiona,
and me working the Edinburgh
***** nightclub
picking empty glasses
from the parkiet...
emptying ****** into
bottles of beer,
getting cornered by skinhead
homos eager for a blow...
Fiona...
    played her the mandolin,
outside her window like
a ******* twised Romeo...
rod steward's maggie may...
then there was Janina,
a love worthy of a canvas,
and a rose... roses bewilder women...
not ough pearl or oyster shells
on them... come next spring...
like any Dutch tulip addiction...
frivolous scoop...
n'ah... this ***** hit the bull's eye
of the bell tower...
ich troje's song
zawsze z tobą chciabym być...
a commoner party song...
became a critique of my skull...
as she deemed it,
the protruding occipital of Africans...
and the squashed, flat "missing"
protrusion was a sign of degeneracy...
even though we shared the same ancestor...
from a pop song...
toward a flat occipital...
wheat-gob bulging jawline
of African Amricans?
they stick corn cobs in there or what?
come on... even Somalia pirates
know the diffrence between not liking
a pleb song, and making comments
about the ******* cranium...
oh wait... and all of this...
in art class...
   so I sketched an answer for her...
her youth...
   eyes with no pupils and no iris,
pure sclera... looking into a mirror
and a babushka...
                if they **** for a reward
of 72 virgins...
              god give me strength...
anticipating 72 doberman
or alsatians, or rottweiler puppies...
       too much fictive love,
when the reality demands...
  once upon a time,
        when a young couple were
to be married,
the parents of both bride
and groom...
    invested in...
    the rewards of retirement,
and the anticipation of reinvigoration
by youth in the format of
grandchildren...
now?
oh you know the subsequent script...
*******.

Myopic the media swaying the mob,
Sniveling fantasies, coaxing the slob.
Co-opting response from opinion-less types
In fashioning rainbows for homos and *****,
Rampaging racism's silver, sharp teeth
Whilst prodding the vulnerable's spongy beneath.
Slipping the knife deep into the flank
Whilst the loud ostentatious are flaying for rank.
Slaying the leaders why ever they stand,
Assassins deployed in a leaderless land.
Spreading black lies for the diet of fools
In cognitive misuse of our media tools
Then blatant superficiality flares
Causing apathy rule, where nobody cares,
It all resolves to a meaningless blah
Where disinterest abandons all truth, as bizarre,
The narcotic dysfunction in media sway
Is tragically mauling humanity's way.

M
10 December 2021