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Mateuš Conrad Feb 2020
cheap write *******:

i almost wish i was bitter - but as i'm ageing -
it's not so much bitterness - a woman in her 60s
will say about her son:
well he's sorted his life out,
he's in his early 30s, has a job,
a wife, two children...

this man... has "sorted" his "life"...
more like when darwinism meets
existentialism -
hardly a sorted life -
a sorted life by ape standards -
not keikegaard's standards: if any...

it's not about bitterness -
but i would be more inclined to say:
early 30s, wife, kids... mortgage...
the rollercoaster is just about to start...
the kids: oh sure... cute...
until they start having a mind
of their own...
and... they will betray the senile
old fool that will come,
eventually...
and off to broadmoor with 'im!
life sorted... when the children could
almost be treated as pets...
fine! fine...

it's not out of bitterness -
i'm thinking... more on the lines:
i'm getting my years tally too...
i'm getting used to my own "solipsistic" routines...
it's not out of bitterness:
it's out of having my own routines:
my own idiosyncracies -
that i will take two ciders for a walk
(perhaps a dog would be better) -
and my shadow -
and take two home and drink them
with a tease of brandy -
and want to get to that sweet k.o. point
come 12am so i can,
wake up: frisky and fresh like a sparrow
full of song come 8am...
well... that's me...

i can imagine how symbiosis happens when
you shackle up with someone
in your early 20s...
forget doing it in your 30s...
my ship / my train has sailed... a long time ago...
i still can't find anyone i could
speak to about philosophy -
and to be frank? i hope i never will -
not now - when i wanted to talk about it:
no one -
now it doesn't matter -
because i don't want to talk about it...
i might slide in a sly ref. to something -
but... the aspirations for conversation
on these matters are... i would just tell someone
to buy a self-help book and kindly *******...

if women: hit the wall...
i've reached my impasse -
i have dug the trench long enough - deep enough -
i can proudly say it's a labyrinth -
and i'm happy in my labyrinth -
it's not much: but it's not a cage -
and this is not some bitter me:
woe me - blah blah -
i have routines - i like to sit an extra 10
minutes on the toilet - becauase -
i'm automating a massage of my prostate...
apparently... bid on this poker being true:
the fear of over-doing it and...
haemorrhoids... the same fear associated with
sitting on cold stones for too long
(ref. lethal weapon II - sam and martin riggs
sitting at the beach)...

but this is not what i was intending to write...
i've been trying to cut down on watching youtube...
i figured... what i should have been doing
was watching an english soap-opera -
akin to eastenders - religiously -
instead - i would have, at least: plenty more ref.
points...
but as for jokes... i make the odd "mistake"...

it's always like watching a paul joseph watson video...
i'm not a fan but i'm a fan of entertainment -
i must have a really low i.q. because
i find lee evans to be a rare genius of comedy...
old school funny - the body can become
a language for comedy -
you really don't need to over-talk the jokes -
after a while intelligent stand-up monologues just
bore me: humor of the monolingual crowd -
anagrams and... too many ciphers -
nothing wrong with your base crude of:
a ****** expression, the body itself -
the language can take a break -
but i must be really stupid for liking...
universal comedy... for me lee evans is a universal
comedian...

but this one video is likewise...
blackpill jesus - the inequality of the dating market:
it's over for many men...

and i'm like: those pro-life arguments are
just starting to kick in...
no... seriously... those pro-life arguments are
starting to kick in: right about now...
what arguments?
sometime in the distant future
an untouchable ** will come into contact
with an untouchable XY example -
long may they prosper -

but all of this is like... watching delayed...
abortions... walking abortions -
by: when darwinism met feminism:
and the two -isms lived happily ever after...
some people... really don't want to be told
they'll be walking abortions:
well: quasi-abortions... the living-dead:
by all standards of darwinian selection -
again... not bitter... routine baron -
but not in a culture:
we could talk about stendhal -
but we won't...
we could talk about bukowski: of all people!
but we won't...
we could talk kabbalah and gnosticism
and the nag hammadi library...
but we won't...
we could talk about music!
but we won't...
first sucker through the floral gates
of the ******: **** first in... head last out...
but at lucifer dived head-first from
a star...
by comparative images:
caesars were born via the caesarean section...
the rest of us...
let's just say: there's no more ***** envy
after a human head starts to:
appear from a place it never should have...

my 20s are a fog...
i might remember 4 odd *****...
one picked up from a club who decided to
take a taxi with me towing but
forgot she was riding with me
and did her usual: jump from a moving car
and not paying the fare...
which i later paid...
cocoon *** under the bedsheets and:
coffee in the morning with three homosexuals...

that south african: again cocoon *** under
the bedsheets - second time lucky for her...
but... is it technically "****"...
when she wants to ******* but is somehow
not aroused and she hasn't spoken to
any ******* about using some cream
and you little richard in that sort of purse...
sandpaper friction?

the black girl at my birthday party...
the right sort of cocktails...
the right sort of music: cedric 'im' brooks...
and then... proper coccyx ramming
that left me with a plum hue tattoo
in the eden of my ***** the next morning...
finally! a black girl with an *** that allowed
her to ram her coccyx into me...

i'll miss some... other... details from elsewhere...

but of course that thai surprise...
picked her in the park...
random as any lottery jackpot...
beers on the bench... more beers at the house...
some jazz... cigarettes in the garden...
later ****** in the shed...
walked the thai surprise home...
why thai surprise?
i wasn't sure... sports bra -
transgender "issues" were only starting
to come to the fore... "4 out of 10"...
tom boy haircut...
until the hand reached into the underwear
and i found oyster...
but prior to: thai surprise...

those ***** were free...
the brothel ***** are more vivid and... well...
there was always some kissing involved...
for some reason i can remember kissing prostitutes
more than ******* them...
with the "free women of the west":
it's more about... the sort of *** that is comparible
to... when foxes in essex come and mate at
night... you forget whether you kissed...
but oh sure... ******* sure did...

it's not sad it's... visceral...
work with enough raw meat in the kitchen -
curing it - slicing it -
rubbing it with marinade -
after a while you're no longer objectifying
anything: you're being subjected to it...

but i do wonder with regards to:
some people would like to know they're walking
abortions - the abortions pandering to the pro-life
argument... otherwise the pro-life argument is
a bit like: shackling - a safety-net guarantee -
or whatever: because what's the argument when...
there's the coming dissonance
of pairing?

perhaps i haven't said this more often than
i should...
of the books i've read... mostly french and german
and scandinavian existentialism -
with a tease of russian...
darwinism and existentialism can't sleep together...
that's what i originally thought...
how can existentialism reconcile itself
with darwinism: when it can't...
darwinism is existentialism for women...
the quantity: not the quality argument / line of reasoning...

i can't reconcile myself with darwinism -
a weakness or just:
there's just too much borrowed from a plethora
of animals -
so many studies concerning apes
and **** similis -
and even the mantis -
but... the noble swan and the phenomenon
of the widow and the widower swan...

days when you could just listen to
bloodhound gang's hooray for ******* and...
also find falco... you almost desire
to walk away from the sandpit where
the children listen to nothing but
philip glass and penderecki and speak
in sudoku language...
otherwise there's missing the middle ground
and reaching for the ***** and *****
of punk and... the scent of burning leather
wrapped in a ****** of stiched together
foreskins...

and i can't imagine... but i can...
cutting someone's eyelids...
and watching them... endure the subsequent
insomnia while having to plunge their
head into water ever 10 minutes...
******* is no help...
ear: eh... cartilege -
but the eyelids... we could be rid of those:
couldn't we?

because i know the potential sleeping in me...
i decided to arrive face first and meet "him"...
just so i don't miss the jinx:
i grab my ******* with one forcep of index
and thumb of the hand...
with the other forcep i pinch
the eyelid of my left eye -
funny... the skin feels... synonymous!

no, i can't reconcile darwinism with continental
existentialism:
as i can't reconcile the former idealism
of mine - not even after a ******* -
where's jack?! where's the jack in me?
but gym and squash and rock climbing later:
i was dating a crab and scraps were
the vulture's ambrosia -

what became of aphex twin? he slowed down
and that cul de sac became...
something known as burial - album untrue...
darwinism was always going to be impossible
to reconcile with: the role of humanity
beyond - it's almost easy to transcend the pure
animalistic comparison -
there's neither fire, nor the second fire:
electricirty in the nocturnal, feral heart of
the bottomless pit of anima -
currently: curated by over-stretched facts
and sleepwalking statistics...

bound to england for the past 26 years...
the closest i came was an: encounters of the third
kind with an australian oddity...
why would i date an english girl?
i thought they were into their pakistanis?
that's a question that's not a joke...
seek and you will find: mongolian-esque
rummaging...
the tartar "heretic" of crimea...

on repeat on repeat...
climbing over a fence from a darkened park...
came across a 15 year old running to and fro...
in the days when i still owned a phone...
tried to teach her how to roll a cigarette...
cleavage more visible than her neck...
reunited her with disgruntled friend
lying face down at a bus stop...
a black cat befriended me...
and this lass was running away from me
and toward me...
she texted about 20 people with my phone
before contacting her mum and dad...
and her cabbie dad later picked the two
of them up from a bus-stop at the tesco metro...
but of course prior to she had to take
a selfie of the three of us...

in the back of my head... the silent whisper
and the prosecutor simply whispered...
why not ask her to climb over the park fence
with you... and do the nightmarish deeds justice?

in england for the past 26 years: genesis aged 8...
and, well... "no luck"...
mongol attitude no likey-likey-lucky-or-lackey...
reciprocating "hubris"...
i guess i must be lucky...
come and go ******* like a nomad...
and: should i take myself more seriously...
invoke a talk about diacritical marks:
and those non-existent in the english language...
an octopus audience: the tenticles
do not count as 8 x 1...

20s... a complete blur...
and those vivid conversations in the brothel...
when i faked a death and managed to
get my overdraft limit increased...
and spent 4 hours in that ****-warehouse...
and was asked in the "interlude"...
wouldn't you want two at the same time?
i once heard:
the world is divided into men who have
slept with two women...
and those who haven't...

i gladly declined...
with two i'd need a room of mirrors...
hungry leech eyes need mirrors...
one simply can't have the 1st person shooter
experience anymore...
one would require as many mirrors when
*******... as a woman would require toys
to ******* with...
it might as well be called:
the mirror deity that spawned narcissus -
although - the more contorted
nightmare of narcissus -
the faces riddled with onomatopoeias
rather than words -
and faces that truly deserve to hide behind
a niqab...
or if the eyes become too fungus esque...
would require the samuel beckett's not i...
mouth like an intrusive phallus metaphor
of exposure...

in the past decade: well thank god
*** never became boring, routine...
it didn't require dressing up,
using third party limbs... and pieces...
*** was scarce - therefore *** was feral -
*** was never allowed a relationship -
*** never became familiar,
*** could never become mundane words
that would allow themselves
advice from some journo agony aunt column...
*** was a rarity -
and when it wasn't... kissing became more
important... and itchy fingers that
would read in braille the earth and its contorts
of a woman's body...
there was never a whip or a gulag
of infantile barbie imaginings to rule, either...

sometimes i would indefinitely try to catch
the certain days of winter when
spring blossoms prematured with buds...
if i was lucky... the magnolia bushes would also
blush...
and i would become a dog-***** of these perfumes...
walking for miles and miles per night...

the body takes care of itself:
trouble is... the mind doesn't...
better to allow it this sort of cameo cinema -
memory is the most ideal cameo cinema -
nothing i have mentioned is par excellance -
more... on par: per view...
if memory can't become a cinema...
what's left? nostalgia of 20th century cinema?
that can only live for so long...

as a "transgender" moment...
perhaps i can compete...
willingly ingest a tapeworm embryo...
keep it for 9 months...
then... ingest some praziquantel and ****
the little ****** out...
that's... the closest i'll ever come
to uniting myself with: the female ordeal
of giving birth: imagine...
the ego coupled the delusion the size
of the universe...
i really should start looking for a tapeworm
embryo... keeping it for 9 months...
and then... hey presto!
extra-protein pasta!

otherwise: oh sure... the would-be abortions...
only learn much later...
that they are... not the pro-life argument
they heard as embryos of foetuses...
they are... much to their amusement...
the walking-abortions they were to begin with...
while the pro-life arguments sort of...
die off... when... the fully grown...
self-aware specimen is given charge...
the pro-life argument dies...
the mortgage on a engagement ring...
the shackles...
it's only a pro-life argument...
until the incel mushroom pops up...
then it's no longer a pro-life argument...
ha... delayed abortion: slackers' argumentation...
yeah but no but, oh ****...

frankenstein! it talks! it breathes!
it's immune to all those philosophical cul de sacs
of arguments!
the slow death - the lack of gene motivation
tactic to: pass...
ha... to pass...
in the vicinity of the courageous virus...
shockwave reminders of: genesis vivo...

give me the fully formed xenomorph...
but a genesis vivo: akin to the film LIFE?
wouldn't you believe it?
form... a xenomorph has a concrete form -
a rigid square is...
well... it's not an imploded square -
a hyper-geometric revision...

modern anglo-speaking world and...
milan kundera's existentialism:
i will only kiss when i close my eyes -
but nonetheless -
i will open my eyes when kissing...
because i'm bluffing...
and gambling on... the hope that...
even the sofa "architecture" of a woman's
body reclining to entertain the 300 spartans...
eyes always open...
daggers for eyes...

upon the zenith close -
i imagined myself to be more...
buck-tooth antics -
trivia and encyclopedic knowledge -
pub quizes -
*** on wisteria lane -
no mongol horde ever passed the clefts
of pickets and homebugs...
and this... grand sanity project...
people never seem to go, truly mad,
from... gossip.... glibs...
or soap-opera immoralities: of flacid oopses...
perhaps it is true:
most people never go mad...
what horrible lives they must lead...

perhaps that is very true:
so true it deserves the bells of nortre dame
to echo...
inside a can kicked down a street...
kissing a ******* is not a basic immorality...
having toy soldiers and wars of lies -
and soap opera demagogic dramaturges?
wasting other peoples time with:
there's no crease in a sunrise -
when there are no clouds to stage the subtle
detail of diluted hues of seeing:
a giraffe's belly when it's lying on
the ground?

some people never go mad...
and they do require language to be as strict as:
what's precursor formal -
dear sir / madam...
and every time they try an informal: oops...
it's never on paper...
but always in a mouth that's exploring
the fermentation process of a glass of wine...
me?
gods' **** and gods' blood...
cider / beer with a tease mrs. cognac:
that's the elevated status of whiskey via: née:
ms. amber.

could i be a father and an alcoholic?
no... ever time i tried to exfoliate my own language,
my... idiosyncracy, my solipsism,
barriers and people reaching for...
prime navel and crimson as the standard
colour for lipstick...
one can only stomach so much...
before treating oneself to a hermit's adventure...
on the odd chance... giving coordinates
of the day-to-day...

i would have died a decade prior...
if i didn't find voyeurs to look at a language...
that cannot be spoken by someone alive:
among the living... to the future dead!
i was alive once, too! to the future dead!
Hal Loyd Denton Sep 2012
He wore a wide brim hat

That and his other clothes dated him a character was crisscrossing our land was he human or angelic he
Seemed to be changeless it easy to trust someone who remains steady no matter what he will still say
The same thing it is called truth he even wrote it down in his travels he carries a flat leather case he
Hangs it down with a long ******* his side I was honored to read some of what he wrote the title on the
Page it said                                                       I Shall Not Want

He chose here to shift time and place but with the greatest regard and respect he wanted to speak to all
Americans and within the frame work of a people they could identify with and respect in the time of
John Wesley and George Whitfield there were a certain group of people here they are called miners
There they called them colliers of necessity John and George starting preaching in the open fields out in
The country side as George started preaching to a group that was gathered his booming voice carried
Undoubtedly close enough to the open holes that it was easily carried to those laboring below well it
Wasn’t long until the field was full of these blacked faced men and as this firebrand for God poured out
His soul revival fire leapt on all present but this was the sight hard working God fearing men stood
Before this preacher and as he expounded the love of the lamb butchered at Calvary rivulets of tears
made their way down those black faces and made the heart break to see the white tracks left as these
Honorable men found more than just back breaking work and toil with small rewards they found a love
That gave them equality peace a sense of being of unfathomable worth it all so was the greatest need
Of England she was coming apart at the seams because of the curse of Gin it had made its way into the
Church with the priest found lying drunk within its walls the scourge reached this level of contemptible
Behavior a young mother slays her child throws it in a ditch and then went and sold the clothes for Gin
What did righteous loving God do he sent his love into this cesspool it was heavy with his tears it was
Capable because of His awesome power it saved a nation tottering on the brink well what does that
Have to do with America we are not lost in that manner of madness he answers this way drugs alcohol
Deviant behavior in all of our history there hasn’t been such violence against women and children no one
Seems able to stem this tide and then we are financial slaves to a debt that staggers the mind this was in
The near political past but that can be like a soap opera stop watching for weeks and it’s still just the
Next Day and one time when politicians were baring their souls for the better of the country they said it
Takes a spiritual answer the intangibles these powerful entities will laugh and destroy as they were in
England it would have been a reordered world if it weren’t for God’s move in that country we need him
We have dirt and grime on our faces honest hard work but we find ourselves undercut by so much that
Is a travesty to decency it’s not slowing down it only picking up speed read history Rome fell and so many
Other powerful nations as well they perished from immoralities rot our soldiers and military wins
Because of a rear guard of praying people you want a future worth living for your selves your children
And your grand children this nation’s history has been built and succeeded on this bedrock and no other
Family altars at home and in the local church a man or a woman can attain no higher beauty than to
Bow in surrender to majestic love that makes them free and in turn it will free this nation from every
Chain that now has it bound the greatest power is love and you are its radiant recipient go in love and
Be victories the rest of this man’s journal will be decided by you individually that’s what America is
All about anyway what a privilege we have exorcise it!
Lifelong deserted on forsaken isle
Bode alone on Patmos, John in exile
The last of God’s apostles whilst ‘ere on earth
Survived to be banished for professing rebirth
And though secluded to but himself muse
Seclusion to stifle would be of no use
For the One who holds men in the palm of His hand
Can work all His purposes through any man
Either be he at home
Or on isle alone

Visited on island, by God for His work
On sending a message from Him to His Church
A vision received he must send to address
Their troubles and worries God ached to redress
And encourage the faithful who endured so much pain
That they’re not forgotten, and they mustn’t wane
For God does not oft reason missives direct
Unless He saw need to bring retrospect
Of mortal Time’s end
For His Body and all men

“To those in Ephesus, who are ready to test
Many a false prophet has been exposed from the rest
And long you braved such painstaking trial
Unwilling to bend under oppression vile
But though you are strong, shortsighted you remain
You have forgotten why you fight and withstand the bane
For it is I, your greatest Admirer, that came down for you
And did, out of love, only what I could do
Make Me foremost when comes the worst
And remember that I loved you first

“To the faithful in Smyrna, persisting though poor
You labor, heavy laden by the burden I bore
But be not discouraged, for you work not in vain
In spirit you are rich, Heaven’s glory to gain
So be mindful of this, for what lies ahead
For sufferings ‘ave not past, but will worsen instead
Men will confine you and your hands will they bind
But press on ‘til death, and life you will find
Your body, cast down
Will I make your crown

“To Mine in Pergamum, in Satan’s dwelling
You have been loyal, your perseverance telling
To proclaim Me and my name, and Me not deny
Hell and its sons are left to surmise
But there are those of you who hold fast to falsities
Accepting many sin and foul immoralities
Now you must turn away and you must not consent
And of these teachings, refute and repent
‘Else I will come nigh
And level these lies

“Of Thyatira, Mine in My service
Though by no merit, your faith do I cherish
You have grown much and your good work matures
Your deeds have been proof of that Hope which endures
Be wary, though, if I condemn whom you host
For Jezebel is among you, and her sin is her boast
My grace she has scoffed, and repentance she has shunned
So now I will afflict her, and undo all she’s wrung
Brook not her ways
Holdfast all your days

“To the saved in Sardis who are seemingly dead
Slumbering prostrate on your spirit’s bed
For I will come as a thief in the night
And to sleep then is to sleep for all time
Your works, incomplete, will slowly fade
And your deeds are unfinished, which you have made
Awake! Awake now, and strengthen what’s left
Arise! Arise now, this cross you must heft
Teach the lost of Me, to learn
Ever to be vigilant of My return

“To those in Philadelphia, unwavering in truth
A door I have a opened, and set before you
None may close it, and to pass through’s your right
For by your weakness have you shown My might
You kept my Word and in affliction did not cower
And so I will keep you from trials in that hour
For a day will come when the world I will test
To discern between men my disciples from the rest
And you I will set apart
For I already know your heart

“And finally to Laodicea, who is rich in this world
But revealed ‘neath is poverty when the mast is unfurled
You claim need of nothing, satisfied with your state
Instead, I see lacking that destines your fate
You are tepid in spirit and to sip suit Me not
You bear for Me no fervor; neither are you cold nor are you hot
In spite of your lack, know that I love whom I reprove
So be arduous now, be it Me whom you choose
I knock at your door
I desire of you more

“Hear me now, and heed what I say
Overcome this world, break night with your day
For from eternal death will I come and you save
I will clothe you in white and give you a new name
I will confer you the nations to rule with My hand
I will confess your name before God and before man
You will be the pillars that brace up My home
And you will sit down with Me on My throne
For from temporal pain
Springs everlasting gain”

These words in a vision did God, to John, speak
And this message did He will for the churches to reach
Admonishing their triumphs, and where they fell short
Encouraging them to, in Him, always resort
And realizing this may we ever conclude
That without Him we have all there is to lose
For it is by Him that we have come to be
But the choice is ours, where we spend eternity
A choice before us is laid
Whom we will choose to serve this day

This choice, inescapable, either brings death or brings life
And our decision will last beyond the end of all time.
Taken from Revelation 1:4 - 3:22
Safana May 2020
The crown is crowned…
Queens’ skull filled and fit

The crowd yelled and hell…
Long live the great queen

And, the kingdom untied…
Out of scary and harass

It begins a royal customs…
Concert is growing up high

Sunshine, freely moving…
And everyone face is filled

Behold! Queens’ speech…
Is begin spread, to crowd

The crown is a crown…
Not every crown is a crown

Our crown is enormous…
The greatest crown ever

We are inimitable to rule…
This world, stock and barrel

We must proliferate…
Our well prominent desires

We call all to behold…
Our intention, will not free

Our invasion is, for all…
To lead the world wholly

Not for, to enchain again…
But, to design new hope

And, this crown is our…
Shall cross the threshold all

No stallions and horses…
Shall bear our heaviness

Lion and lioness shall sob…
Because of fear and fairness

No elephant will dance…
On any elephantine floor

No monkeys to climb up…
Any tree to chomp a fruit

And, rodents will not free…
For robbing others’ stuff

We may stay in, longer…
Stirring every living on gravel

Some may give in, and…
Other will be tardy to breathe

Lay the blame on no one…
But on someone like thee

We are sentient for that…
Grubby games been in playing

Corruption is a hobby for…
Everyone living on this terrain

It grounds unawareness and…
Uprisings to this living space

Immoralities subjugated all…
Elders and younger living gaps

Bribery awfully deep within…
The hearts and no compassion

Extravagancy and fraud hit…
Every narrow, in this legroom  

Everyone claiming the high…
Possession and supremacy to all

Needy get no crumb of aid…
Because, everyone claim is poor

We call not on behalf but…
To stay in you are and stay safe
This, is a metaphoric to global pandemic season of COVID-19.  The crown means "Corona".
Yhinyhin Tan Dec 2015
Dear my husband to be,
Watch out for those girl who attempts you to be with,
Never let your eyes be blinded because of their sweet kisses.
Never let your body reacted because of their playful touch.
Remind me at all times, be reminded that I am faithfully waiting for you
And keep praying that you may not fall from their beautiful appearance
But yet, they heart and mind is full immoralities.

My husband to be,
I can't wait to see you face to face.
And to meet you in unexpected place.
I hope, we are the same.
Excited to fulfill a thing that is called
Dream wedding.
Pray for me, so I will stay faithful
And I will pray for you,
so that you will remain pure.

That's all!
Sincerely Yours,
So not perfect soon to be wife.
Ano daw? Ewan ko din ba, may maisulat lang eh haha.
Rain falls on the ground. Drizzling water.
Television turned on. Angry rhetoric.
New plans proposed. Armies marching.
Please, please, please
                  pray for peace.

Skies black with hate. Lazy yelling.
Fish swim back and forth. Danger unaware.
Tribes gather and they scold. Malicious vibes.
Please, please, please,
                  pray for peace.

Watching children learn. Violence dominates.
Corporations preach and burn. Insipid parasites.
Grass grows in tones of brown. Dying atmosphere.
Please, please, please,
                  pray for peace.

Water runs fast and slow. Strangers shouting.
Trees shade and have no leaves. Corporate hello.
Moon rises naked in the sky. Sun is empty zero.
Please, please, please,
                  pray for peace.

Churches empty as stores open. Religious tolerance.
Dinosaurs gone but more to come. Media harmony.
Up is downwards and down is up. Confusing immoralities.
Please, please, please,
                  pray for peace.

Let peace be on our lips.
Let peace be in our hearts.
Let peace be our only word.
Please, please, please,
                  pray for peace.
Kìùra Kabiri Mar 2017
Dens, devils dark alleys
Apart from the quiet disco beats
The house-techno-electronics melodic
Or timbres of the naughty riddims rhythmic
And the dim coloured alternating disco-lights
Else, Dens are blurry dark
With all addicts-of ***, narcos or gins

In there no one sees no one
Just the silent talks of sins around
The usual businesses brought them there
In the mixture of multicoloured lights
So no one will talk of anyone once lights returns
Yet they shared something in common
A gal maybe, a cocoa puff or a shisha vapour!
A cigar smoke or a ***** tot and danced it ***** to dawn

In there are naked nudes-
Dames as well as few muscled-dudes
Teasing silent seated decent dressed
Stripping, selling their worth or wealth
To these willingly seriously immerged
In the occults of the immoral ****

Some are seductively rolling with the podium poles
Their greased groins incised on it metallic luster
Grating-grinding-dancing dirtily down
Its silvery smoothness in timed tempting
Slow spicy synchronic, slutty slides  
Watching the salivating seated
Erotically elated shift in their chairs

Some, skimpily skinned are snaking their boneless bodies up-down
In caressing zigzags of mastered dancers ***** arts
Immorally exposing their mostly expensive parts in bits
To tempt and trap these blind corrupted moths in their Lucifer’s lights
Forcing them to dig deeper their posh pockets to pay to be bemused  

Business here is crooked, dark!
Like ***** and her Gomorrah
Or Tyre and her Sidon
It begins with the fall of the night:
The extinguishing of the day's light
And ends with moments to dawn’s bright

In there all night are all dealers of immoralities
Of dark arts, of *** or of drugs  
Goons as well as criminals of government deals
And the corrupt business billionaires sandwiched
Richly enjoying the **** of the sinfulness-
Sharing, wasting, the rapacious richness
Of their easily gained supernormal profits
On these salacious naked nudes, free to feel

In there in the masquerade of these rainbow lights
No one sees no one, no one will say of anyone
Just cash exchanges hands
You got it, you get what you need
All the services you want-its all at your watch
With just a snap of the finger, all easily you acquire
You are the master, everyone else your servant slave-
At your disposal to your utmost attendance

© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.
Babatunde Raimi Sep 2019
Take me back to yesterday
When holiness ******* prosperity
When churches won souls
Not the craze for numbers and money

Take me back to yesterday
When we taught moral instructions
Where teachers were models
Not paedophiles and opportunists
How I so miss yesterday!

Take me back to yesterday
When girls covered up
Knelt to greet Elders
Fetched from the stream
Where *** before marriage was a taboo

Today, celebrities project immoralities
Singers praise corrupt persons
Officers collect bribes
Contracts and admission are for highest bidders
Please take me to yesterday

Take me back to yesterday
When men married women
Women married men
Where we raised respectable boys and girls
Not sadomasochists and sadists

Take me back to yesterday
Where politicians served us
We looked up to them
Today, the table is turned
But from the beginning;
It was not so

Take me back to yesterday
Where we rubbed organic
You call it Coconut oil
I call it "Adi Agbon"
Where we wore "Shuku" in all shades
And adorned in beautiful beads

I miss yesterday
Hence my poetic pen drips
If you miss yesterday
Come ride with me
Let's go back to yesterday
That we may better our tomorrow
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
The Lord spoke of words today
Reminding me of how much He has given me
Caught unaware by the words that He said
Revealing the sins of my broken faith

And as my luminous wings began to fray
He began pulling my feathers, one by one
Until I was naught more than broken man, afraid that
I have faithlessly sought only after His forgiveness

I begged him, “Please, of what sins and immoralities
had brought me so far away from your pathway
towards salvation and your forgiveness?”

And He said, “But you’re the one that slipped away.”

The devil spoke of words today
Reminding me of how much I owed him
Lost in the thoughts of what he had said
Revealing threads of his devious puppetry

By the strings and by a finger’s delay
I danced his twisted show of mockery
Despite how much I struggled to break free
I depended far too much on his malicious guidance

I begged him, “Please, of what uncertainties
had brought me so far down this pathway,
towards misery and your relentless tug?

And he said “You’re the one that’s slipped away.”

©2014
Kat Gonzales Aug 2017
Blessed are the papers
that the poet writes on
for they will be filled
with mind and soul

Pieces of letters
Infinitely watering
the growing lilacs and daisies
planted in broken soils

Of moralities and immoralities
The curious wind hovers
Of fantasies and realities
It lands to the flowers

complex worlds
In the Paper, there it blooms
Unheard words
In the Paper, it unfolds

Covering scars or --
Opening wounds
through tattooed verses
of stories untold

Eyes and ears
in desperate propositions
Weapons and swords
in silent revolutions

A wondrous space.
Perhaps, it's an art exhibition.
of black inks in white textures,
the cheapest I've known.
Bumblesnuf Dec 2016
It is dark and vehement
Thinks in natural immoralities
Devours ideas and ideals
With an insatiable desire

It was the runt of the litter
Yet grew the quickest
By consuming his sibling
To near extinction

Now I feel it's appetite
I yearn for it's cravings
I beg for it's voracity
And it feeds, a little, upon me

You might of met it occasionally
In my eyes or through my touch
I have a favor to ask (?)
Will you feed it when I'm gone
Jon G M Apr 2019
Enter into my world
Enter Into my darkness
The depth of my immoralities
Let me lay you on my altar
Enter your mind
Devour your flesh
Ignite the smoldering fire inside
Freeing your soul of timidness
The delusions of right and wrong
Yenson Dec 2021
Because I refused to ***** Joan
and her one dress wild hair rank mother
because I said its not wise for a sixteen year old
to get pregnant
because I refused to pay extortion money to these crooks
and told them loud and clear to go get jobs
and stop thieving and scrounging welfare
and when because I would not pay extortion and they burgled me
I called them thieving scums and said I would tell all about them
they and their gangs
in murderous rage
labelled me a Tory
said I was a ****
a greedy parasite because my wife and I worked
its greedy to be decent law-abiding employed couple
they said I was a grass and a snitch
I was to be erased and destroyed
it is said
the good die young
I was barely thirty then
doing good and everything going good
I died happy for the values I enshrined
and my clone that lived still eschewed immoralities and wrong doings
and still upholds all the values and inspired qualities I have
Babatunde Raimi Feb 2020
A little bit of cake
A little bit of grape
The sky is red
The temples are set
And the eyes, blurry

The maps shall be drawn
With the greatest ink of all
Pleasures without boarders
As they travel to Paris
Without flying to Paris

It is the season of agape
Not for ****** immoralities
It's just nine months
Cambridge result will be out
Save for those who played safe

The reason for the season is love
That which knows no bound
Dear Valentine
Please be kind
We are already over-populated
In-laws outlaw's crooks not a one of us straight.
We are the ties that bind that's how we all relate.
Do you really need me to demonstrate.
All of our own problems we tend to create.
It's pretty  much our ******* fate. Quietly we contemplate
things that are unchecked and hard for us to regulate.
In our own wake
we leave everything on completely devastate.  
As our situations we continue to simply complicate.
Always the chaos it does tend to elevate
It's  getting harder and harder for me to concentrate
At least it has been as of ******* late  Isn't addiction just ******* great. Please go on and tell me I'm dying to know just how I rate.
Here is my attempt at trying to educate
all my life I did self medicate
so these feelings I could eradicate. If there are any murders you can bet I did so  meditate.
Before I ended up going ahead with the plan to premeditate.
Maybe this is something for you that I can illustrate.
The meeting of the voices in my head I facilitate.
Their murderous ideas I exonerate. That usually  sparks a huge debate. Sometimes like  ticking time bombs these voices prepare to detonate
we do not have enough religion to promote love we have just enough to hold on to hate.
The darkness inside of me I try to illuminate.
I hate to hurry up just so that I can wait.
My ego maybe I should deflate. There are things that to me they  simply irritate.
I dislike being in a state of aggravate my most cherished memories I somehow desecrate.
Myself to a cause I can't seem to dedicate
I probably have too much on my plate
more drama I do not to generate.  Ideas from the days that have already passed I reinstate.
A **** up indeed I am to this very date.

I am trying to be all I can be, all I can be is just simply me. A person so blinded by the light that they just can not see.
All my live long days I have longed to just be free.
I know that the coming of tomorrow holds no guarantee.
I bid a fond farewell to thee.
As to God in heaven I make an urgent plea
while in prayer on bended knee.
I'm getting rather tired of this fractured sense of reality.
I am inclined to violently throw a ******* from this balcony
Is it not just an absolute travesty
that I can so **** tragically
yet quite ******* callously
so *******  casually
create a **** causilty.
Isn't that a hell of a brutality. Principals before personalities
**** all the legalities.
Don't you know that these so called abnormalities
are just  formalities.
You know technicalities
some of the more traditional hospitalities
lay in wait that the eventualities
will soon give way to the  whimsicality  
of such immoralities.

In other words there are many secrets and bodies hidden in the cracks of my very moral  code. Harley crunching gravel on this old dirt road
it's time for me to lock and ******* load
ready I am to ******* explode
my story has already been pretty much been told
like laundry I know when I need to fold.
All that glitters is definitely not ******* gold.
Out of all the questions you've asked me guess how many lies I have sold. When God made me he broke the mold.
the power I have invested in myself I now behold
if we never slow the **** down then perhaps we won't ever ******* grow old.
My ride or die has already died as he rode.
I am not one easily controlled.
I am not at all  outspoken not even close to being bold
but the older I grow I am that much more corrupt I am in fact cold.
I'm off my rocker I'm in fact throwed reaping whatever I have sowed
Only ******* taking what I am actually owed.

Thick clouds I blow just because I tend to smoke pretty strong
Just like you I'm looking for the place I am meant to belong.
I am trying to keep moving right along
but at this impasse I've stood way too long
up all night staring into the Nothing while I am hitting the ****
Whoever I used to be she's already long gone
I'm animated like a cartoon I am ******* drawn
Brains over ******* brawn
I never go down before at least thr break of dawn
I'm so **** high I think I just saw a leprechaun
Would that not be some kind of supernatural phenomenon

I have to admit that I shive a ghit nor do I ******* give a ******* ****
Not in the least little ******* bit
Whatever I have going on I am trying to rise above it
Here in this **** parking lot I ******* sit
Wouldn't you ******* know I am **** sure lit
I doubt that i will ever really ******* quit
I am not a hypocrite
Nor am I counterfeit
I won't tell you not to do as I do while I am taking a hit.
Why is it this life that seems to be only fit.
Explicit

— The End —