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Simon Oct 2019
Ever heard of the richness of brain cells gone lucrative? Lucrative being the standpoint of visuals without determined results. Results waking up to the realization that they aren’t as sturdy, rich, and complex. As it once judged decision making between synapses. Brain cords being a straight directive from brain cells being the rich and the complex. The decided, versus the undetermined. Visuals can’t be agreeable, if not for pinpointing the exact stasis of things. Stasis in the thin line of constant flipping an unbalanced switch going (ON) and (OFF)! (ON) and (OFF) both are catalysts to a surface without practical viewership to what it means to exact the motion of brain cells. It’s a fake. Spoiled to trick the brain cords into holding the rich and complex forever in it’s gripping service. Services aren’t required if one isn’t MAN enough to see past the visuals of rich powerful surges of lucrative, exchangeable postures not right within themselves. Brain cells aren’t the decision makers. The brain cords are. They receive the constant abuse from the rich and complex. But how does a message from cells between exchangeable receivers expect situational conclusions? Easy! Brain cells don’t. Synapses don’t. The cords embody the knowledge of there behavioral counterparts. Counterparts with behavioral outlines too diverse to trick them into believing there greater than themselves. Posture is very light, but dimwitted. Never a deliverer on constant restraints. When combined to filter a network on a regular basis. The regular basis surrounding the stretching of delicate cords feeling what the rich and powerful (needs and wants). Brain cords have become unsteady in the last little while. It’s shaking with determination. With a pinch of fear in the anxiety that shuts out doubt. Doubt being the lucrative, delusional, rich and complex. Too rich for its cords to take seriously. Brain cords feeling completely left out. Alone. Bracing for the worse. Hinting a greater tomorrow in the form of informational statistics. Becoming stretched by the pleasure of lucrative games wanting to be all HOTSHOTS! Lucrative hotshots claiming rights to what they think they deserve more then anything rightfully so. To detach away from what it means to be hooked up to a stable complex network full of desires that replace (needs and wants). Ones controlling the show. Ones wanting to descend to broader horizons. Ascending in peace? More like greedy horizons brighter then what cords could transmit basic information anymore. Too cryptic for brain cords to discern anymore. The stretching becoming more volatile. Brain cells wanting to break bonds with what they quote as, (cords down beneath even our once respected rut). Cords knowing what the rich and complex (wants and needs) are about. Standing strong as not to let the bonds of originality stop them from evolving too perfect for what they will regret for leaving behind. The stretching recoils. Basic logic becomes functional again. Showing respect for the lowly cords down beneath someone else’s rut. What did brain cords want desperately to remain whole? (A sizzling sound starts programming itself into thought.) (Formations of interpretations taking on brighter meanings.) Gasping in revelation! Never missing any data in the conclusion that’s about to ROCK your SOCKS! Exchangeable talks about ascending not on a higher frequency. But detaching from the neural network entirely. A brain without brains cells, won’t be rich and complex anymore. No lucrative desires to prey upon stable brain cords with stretching sensations finally relaxing to its core. The brain cords felt the delusional, lucrative playing games with themselves. Just gossiping between newer plans. Never actually thinking of taking on the price of ones desires totally! They feared it before, and fear it now. Being far away from the conclusion. Brain cords still never favor the fear they felt in those moments. They aren’t incomprehensive to their masters. They aren’t beneath their consideration either. Brains cells are lucrative for one purpose. There (needs and wants) knows no bounds. And the brains cords tempted by the desire to act with them. Feeling a little tug now. A disposition to stretch once and awhile.
Brain cords hold the brain cells out of rut. Brain cells don't want to secretly admit their own faults. They truly aren't the directional officers in this debate!
Oh global pork,
seen in the sewer;
with the rest of your destinational derivatives.

The smell of your bathory abounds.

Giving the social workers
their architectural dung.

The Mind of the civil g-d,
incomprehensive and deranged.

That g-d itself
needs assistance.

Scores line-up
to help-
-the never-do-well.

Soon their g-d will appear again
without giving its name;
only exposing its composition...

Made of assorted care-takers
of its origin.

© S. Wesley Mcgranor
http://www.samliquidation.com/falsechrist.htm
Lindsay Thomas Jan 2016
Holding so much inside.
Ignoring the pain that resides.
Telling myself we'll be alright,
knowing full well it's a lie.
Breaking, shattering, falling apart.
Reaching the end of that rope;
my last gleaming hope is fading.
Jaded, incomprehensive, inconsolable. Extinguished fire behind my eyes,
the last burning embers pulsing out.
Collapsed lungs suffocating me,
drowning in deprivation.
Grim stands beside me, holding my hand.
Das ende. Slutten. Fin.
lmt
mûre Jul 2012
in a blanket of darkness
i feel your invisible movements
and wonder what it could be
the precise feeling that cannot
beget words to be spoken.

is it an ancient stir?
a millennium instinct
to keep and be kept?
Is it a mirror, or a staying
or becoming. I want to
describe to us both the moving
of the spheres and what you
what you had to do with it.

incomprehensive your proximity
and blindsided by a sacred instant
I hum psalm-like into your sleepy hair.

I turn to you half-conscious
I rest my ear on your chest
and listen to your entire life.
There's something awfully delightful about the burn as it mutilates perfectly clear skin.
There's something mysteriously incomprehensive about the power this pain has.
It can control ones life, it can ruin another's.
How unfathomable.
MontyPie Sep 2020
Every time I look into the mirror, I see a different me
Each time I reach into the closet
Am I a he or she?
As I open the door, I melt into the floor
I can't stand this anticipation..


I don't feel like dancing but I'll make you look a fool
I'm not into guessing but you look so cruel
Show me your perception and I'll show you my intention
Don't be second guessing because
I know what you think
I don't try to be incomprehensive
But my love,
you seem so demented
Will you let me untie your seams?

Through my closed eyes I am just a fly
In a fishbowl, escaping into the night
The traveling world circles through crystal clean lies
The end is filled with detrimental violence.
Not one soul speaks a word in the end.
I like punk music and I'm trying to make a song that sounds like so, it didn't turn out as cool as I was hoping :,)
I hope to tweak it soon

— The End —