"interbred" poems
Because it's the way the fire catches the green herb and that almost pumping red flame mixes colors as we started with yellow pain until we interbred all the paints until we got that ashy black tone.
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 4:37 AM UTC
*oh yeah... and i just spotted a crow pecking a pigeon's ***** with a pecker the size of an elephant's trunk... give it a 100,000 years and you'll see a new species... like that saying: when pigs grow wings.*
because the current theory of darwinism teaches
us we interbred with lesser species
and justifies ********** -
the dualism is horrid, i prefer parallelism -
parallelism and our own individual lives,
rather than mediating two extremes...
and indeed i prefer to think we were uniquely
classified from the start... but i guess there's
a fetish going around the joke about the welsh,
sheep and cliffs... i want to ask you:
when did **** insapiens emerge, or rather,
when did he actually manage to integrate
into our species with such subtleness
that we actually proclaimed some men mad
when they weren't, and assured ourselves
that some mad men were actually sane?
how to decipher this conundrum?
he did so... bringing us *** and other presents...
and indeed his identity will never be known;
indeed, who is this unhygienic brat?
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 8:24 PM UTC
Like time flowing nowhere
I find the rejection of life's constant,
Turmoil
Drifting through
Like broken chalices
Each dancing like brilliant oceans,
Interbred and intwined with fire
Desires to breathe outwardly
Like dead birds drinking tea
Together
Evil begone
Forever
The love inside my mind
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 7:37 PM UTC
I love my disjointed blackness
Torn from roots
Manipulated stereotyped
Proud like Africans in Africa
Interbred pillage *****
Beauty on a white template
Scared and overwhelmed
Charging through founders of genocide
The struggle is feeling
Dope cool radical
Normalized heroism
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 11:51 AM UTC
Dear Poets,
We are a wondering bunch of know it-
All's.
We breathe words and phrases
From our upright noses.
No one composes
A song that shows us
Or proposes
That we change the things we've chosen!
We love they way we live,
And we love the blood that pours from our fingertips
On to white paper.
What a hypocritical bunch are we,
Writing about death and life
As if we knew the answers to everything.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
I think they've all been interbred,
the living dead
fed on the drippings from
a million pork scratchings
turned into swine.
I think about it all the time.
The gene pool they've never dipped in,
never stripped off on a whim
for a swim,
how can we trust them,
they are brothers to more men
than we can imagine.
I can imagine a lot but
not that.
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC