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"jacking" poems
Every time people start to rise up, a whole buncha problematic mess gets thrown around regarding VIOLENCE. So, what is "violence" really?... It's the use of force. Plain and simple. What makes folks uncomfortable (who are otherwise comfortable in this system) is that UPRISING IS A SOMETIMES VIOLENT (read: forceful) REACTION TO SYSTEMATIC VIOLENCE: Yes, just like the Hunger Games... Thus, there are many types of violence... The fact that we are paying taxes that are funding the genocide and ****** of people of color (here and abroad) is violence. People with guns (former slave patrols and overseers, now cops) who come from outside our community and treat our folks as criminals on the daily is violence. Capitalism, i.e. wage/property/ecology-based exploitation in the name of profit is violence. The fact that LA County spends more $$ than anywhere in the world on prisons and police is violence. The fact that the US locks up more of its own people than any other country on record is violence. US aiding/funding the genocide of Palestinians at the hands of Israel is genocidal violence. From Congress, to the boardrooms, to the classrooms, from the gaze, to the unwanted touching, to the **** to the pay, Patriarchy everyday, is violence. A few people jacking some **** at Walmart or breaking a window is really minimal violence in comparison. A couple people throwing **** at armed cops is not serious violence. The idea of owning property that other must rent to live is violent. Systemic, chronic, global insecurity in the form of material poverty is violence. Wage slavery is violence. Gentrification is violence. The War On Youth, i.e. the School-to-Prison pipeline, and, thus the War-on-Drugs with its attending 76% recidivism rate in the prison-industrial complex, whose populations are disproportionately black males, is violence. The fact that people can't go to the doctor and dentist, or eat food every day is violence. Deportations are violence. Homophobia is violence. The world's largest global military that vaporizes people without due process in dozens of countries violating their biophysical and national sovereignty is violence. The United States government sanctioning the ****** of non-white, but especially Muslim bodies across the world... is violence. So, when you condemn violence, do you mean resistance? Because there is a whole lot of violence you should be condemning instead. Adapted from Emilio Lacques-Zapien
0
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 11:14 AM UTC
The fire this time
Every time people start to rise up, a whole buncha problematic mess gets thrown around regarding VIOLENCE. So, what is "violence" really?... It's the use of force. Plain and simple. What makes folks uncomfortable (who are otherwise comfortable in this system) is that UPRISING IS A SOMETIMES VIOLENT (read: forceful) REACTION TO SYSTEMATIC VIOLENCE: Yes, just like the Hunger Games... Thus, there are many types of violence... The fact that we are paying taxes that are funding the genocide and ****** of people of color (here and abroad) is violence. People with guns (former slave patrols and overseers, now cops) who come from outside our community and treat our folks as criminals on the daily is violence. Capitalism, i.e. wage/property/ecology-based exploitation in the name of profit is violence. The fact that LA County spends more $$ than anywhere in the world on prisons and police is violence. The fact that the US locks up more of its own people than any other country on record is violence. US aiding/funding the genocide of Palestinians at the hands of Israel is genocidal violence. From Congress, to the boardrooms, to the classrooms, from the gaze, to the unwanted touching, to the **** to the pay, Patriarchy everyday, is violence. A few people jacking some **** at Walmart or breaking a window is really minimal violence in comparison. A couple people throwing **** at armed cops is not serious violence. The idea of owning property that other must rent to live is violent. Systemic, chronic, global insecurity in the form of material poverty is violence. Wage slavery is violence. Gentrification is violence. The War On Youth, i.e. the School-to-Prison pipeline, and, thus the War-on-Drugs with its attending 76% recidivism rate in the prison-industrial complex, whose populations are disproportionately black males, is violence. The fact that people can't go to the doctor and dentist, or eat food every day is violence. Deportations are violence. Homophobia is violence. The world's largest global military that vaporizes people without due process in dozens of countries violating their biophysical and national sovereignty is violence. The United States government sanctioning the ****** of non-white, but especially Muslim bodies across the world... is violence. So, when you condemn violence, do you mean resistance? Because there is a whole lot of violence you should be condemning instead. Adapted from Emilio Lacques-Zapien
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26
Law, All ye termites hacking ants are you without sin? Twisting the law to your greed thus dethroning justice Thou that dis-virgins the law to suit your selfish taste, Did not equity say that none is above the law? Money-thirsty vultures seeking positions to occupy. Law hackers depriving justice and equity of her rights Equity and justice now lives in shame of her virginity, Almighty termite, do not your deeds speak evil of your sins? I weep blood for justice and equity whose daughters you ***** Is there none whose conscience still breathe or lives? Power-driven termites making uncountable promises Yet accomplishing none but your calculated interests. Equity, All ye leaders that preach peace, are you not corrupt minded? En-slaving accounts meant for public welfare Yet you claim to have the peoples interest in mind, Did not the law command you to let equity and justice smile? Parasitic predators hi-jacking the country's economy Filthy termites proclaiming injustice upon powerless ants, Justice hackers, do not your conscience judge your judgments? I wish that you allow justice and equity have her way. Law benders at whose feet equity and justice bow Rippers of the law, at your hands justice is twisted, Is your nature as humans so inhumane? Little wonder the earth lives in fear of your tyranny. Justice, All ye slanders of the law, why not sheath your swords of corruption? Your unchecked power has broken the wings of justice Thereby making equity a widow without a husband, Remember your oaths to serve with justice and equity; Did you deceive the ants that voted you in to serve them? Chameleons occupying seats of filtered ambitions Woe betide your conscience for refusing to judge you, Are you not guilty of molesting the law? I mourn for the shameful death of equity and justice. You that crafts the law to fit your suit of corruption Remember a day comes when justice will laugh again, And you being powerful cannot escape the law of Karma. Karma, Murderers of the law, will you also bribe karma? I doubt if you can buy the law of karma with money. Thou whose gluttony corrupts justice and equity, Don't you feel guilty that you disvirgined the law? Equity and justice now roams about in nakedness, You that preach the law, are you true to yourself? Heartless spiders cob-webbing the law to entangle poor ants Did not equity bid you come to justice with clean hands? Yet with filthy garments you condemn innocent ants; Mind you that someday the law will rise again. All ye scavengers of justice and hackers of the law, Do you think you can **** the law of Karma?
0
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 10:22 AM UTC
Hackers Of The Law
Law, All ye termites hacking ants are you without sin? Twisting the law to your greed thus dethroning justice Thou that dis-virgins the law to suit your selfish taste, Did not equity say that none is above the law? Money-thirsty vultures seeking positions to occupy. Law hackers depriving justice and equity of her rights Equity and justice now lives in shame of her virginity, Almighty termite, do not your deeds speak evil of your sins? I weep blood for justice and equity whose daughters you ***** Is there none whose conscience still breathe or lives? Power-driven termites making uncountable promises Yet accomplishing none but your calculated interests. Equity, All ye leaders that preach peace, are you not corrupt minded? En-slaving accounts meant for public welfare Yet you claim to have the peoples interest in mind, Did not the law command you to let equity and justice smile? Parasitic predators hi-jacking the country's economy Filthy termites proclaiming injustice upon powerless ants, Justice hackers, do not your conscience judge your judgments? I wish that you allow justice and equity have her way. Law benders at whose feet equity and justice bow Rippers of the law, at your hands justice is twisted, Is your nature as humans so inhumane? Little wonder the earth lives in fear of your tyranny. Justice, All ye slanders of the law, why not sheath your swords of corruption? Your unchecked power has broken the wings of justice Thereby making equity a widow without a husband, Remember your oaths to serve with justice and equity; Did you deceive the ants that voted you in to serve them? Chameleons occupying seats of filtered ambitions Woe betide your conscience for refusing to judge you, Are you not guilty of molesting the law? I mourn for the shameful death of equity and justice. You that crafts the law to fit your suit of corruption Remember a day comes when justice will laugh again, And you being powerful cannot escape the law of Karma. Karma, Murderers of the law, will you also bribe karma? I doubt if you can buy the law of karma with money. Thou whose gluttony corrupts justice and equity, Don't you feel guilty that you disvirgined the law? Equity and justice now roams about in nakedness, You that preach the law, are you true to yourself? Heartless spiders cob-webbing the law to entangle poor ants Did not equity bid you come to justice with clean hands? Yet with filthy garments you condemn innocent ants; Mind you that someday the law will rise again. All ye scavengers of justice and hackers of the law, Do you think you can **** the law of Karma?
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52
This is the mountain I'm climbing Due to circumstantial timing The triumphant peaks change over time Just one of this mountain's many crimes The rocks on this mountain are flawed But the mountain is flawless Nature enforces restrictive laws So my life becomes lawless Through this insanity I can't find my humanity It's gagged and bound In the lost and found On this lonely hill Where I get my fill It's an uphill battle Getting above this mountain My conscience rattles My eyes pour like a fountain When I see everything suddenly Like halos hovering Over my past Lying dead in the grass Sometimes I must traverse a log to go over a bog Then I must do the inverse to go under the smog There are countless endeavors Through varying weather That leave me very confused And frantically panicked This mountain provides a view Of the entire planet This mountain made of dust I scale because I must Stillness develops rust When cliffs await us I see dead pioneers on the ground I see weary travelers all around I see fellow climbers as brothers Unless I see them as a lover Then I want to go cave exploring Before my grave ends the story Things should get weird If banality is to be feared In order to make a mark Even if it's in the dark To be perfectly candid This mountain is my canvas I carve my face in it as I go up But my face changes as I grow up So I start swag jacking The backpacking Mirror macking Confidence lacking Mountain attacking Climbers So I can find a crevasse to fit into This mountain is easy to give in to
0
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 12:20 AM UTC
Mountain
This is the mountain I'm climbing Due to circumstantial timing The triumphant peaks change over time Just one of this mountain's many crimes The rocks on this mountain are flawed But the mountain is flawless Nature enforces restrictive laws So my life becomes lawless Through this insanity I can't find my humanity It's gagged and bound In the lost and found On this lonely hill Where I get my fill It's an uphill battle Getting above this mountain My conscience rattles My eyes pour like a fountain When I see everything suddenly Like halos hovering Over my past Lying dead in the grass Sometimes I must traverse a log to go over a bog Then I must do the inverse to go under the smog There are countless endeavors Through varying weather That leave me very confused And frantically panicked This mountain provides a view Of the entire planet This mountain made of dust I scale because I must Stillness develops rust When cliffs await us I see dead pioneers on the ground I see weary travelers all around I see fellow climbers as brothers Unless I see them as a lover Then I want to go cave exploring Before my grave ends the story Things should get weird If banality is to be feared In order to make a mark Even if it's in the dark To be perfectly candid This mountain is my canvas I carve my face in it as I go up But my face changes as I grow up So I start swag jacking The backpacking Mirror macking Confidence lacking Mountain attacking Climbers So I can find a crevasse to fit into This mountain is easy to give in to
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56
Pernicious mind, stop eating me! Incessant head, oh, can’t you sleep? I’ve moved beyond mental Have approached the eternal But god’s still a mystery at times I’m a husk Shrinking back at times from light of open mind Find a spot to fester if I’m feeling like a sore Swaying mendicant head of sweating adolescence Jacking off verbosity Shut me up, Oh Lord! Now all given way to spiritual ************ ********* a smile if I’m too tapped out for joy. ****** slips away, I’m naked in God’s hand— Surrendered to the will of some other spirit’s blood.
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Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 8:23 PM UTC
Spiritual ************
He was a frat guy. he spoke loud at the dinner table across the room and I listened Someone touched him as a young boy And daddy's expectations and denial of homosexuality fueled his sons speech Speaking hypothetically about the colloquial term for jacking off two dudes at once and if that name increased quantitavely what then was the appropriate term for jacking off 100 dudes His friends laughed
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Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
sociopath
Anxiously awaiting atomic assimilation Basing me on belligerent and boorish bastardization Capsizing cargo with careful consideration as to Deciding which day is decay's destination Everyone embrace the elevated expiration Forget my face and follow fabrication Go to the gallows with grace and gravitation He will hold you and hinder alienation I, however, hold insignificance in interest Justifiable jackhammers jacking fighter jets Killing Californians who are kissing canvases Lying without laughing and lighting cigarettes My master makes me move my mundane mind Never knowing next to nothing with nothing else inside Overly offering operating override Practicing patiently pulling peoples' pride Quickly questioning quizzical quietness Rationalizing raging reinventions ridiculous Stapling this summer to my (still) sick subconscious Traveling tunnelers trading tides for tiredness Under the umbrella my undertow untangles Violently vibrating like varying violin angles Waiting with wandering whispers under the table Xylophonist x-rays, excruciating fables You yellow youngling, you who screams in my dreams Zebras zoom by every single night, it seems Let's chant my enchantments, the alliteration song! And untie your tongue So you don't take it wrong.
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Feb 17, 2011
Feb 17, 2011 at 6:59 PM UTC
The Alliteration Song!
It's Like, I don't care about nothin man... sigh I was gonna clean my room, but I'm too depressed... I was gonna get up and find the broom but I'm such a mess... my room is still messed up and I know why why man? because I'm depressed because I'm depressed because I'm depressed... sigh I was gonna go to class but I'm so depressed... I coulda cheated and I coulda passed but I'm such a mess. I am taking it next semester and I know why, why man? because I'm depressed because I'm depressed because I'm depressed... sigh I was gonna go to work but I'm too depressed I just got a new promotion but I'm such a mess now I've got a rope and I know why why man? because I'm depressed because I'm depressed because I'm depressed... sigh I was gonna go to court but I'm so depressed I was gonna pay my child support but I'm such a mess they took my whole paycheck and I know why why man? because I'm depressed because I'm depressed because I'm depressed... sigh I was gonna make love to you but I'm too depressed I was gonna eat yo ***** too but I'm such a mess now I'm jacking off and I know why, why man? because I'm depressed because I'm depressed because I'm depressed... sigh I messed up my entire life because I'm depressed I lost my kids and wife because I'm depressed now I'm sleeping on the sidewalk and I know why why man? because I'm depressed because I'm depressed because I'm depressed... sigh I'm gonna stop singing this song because I'm depressed I'm singing this whole thing wrong because I'm depressed and if I dont sell one copy I know why why man? cause after this verse I'll be in a hearse cause I'm so depressed... sigh
0
Sep 8, 2012
Sep 8, 2012 at 9:19 PM UTC
Remix
It's Like, I don't care about nothin man... sigh I was gonna clean my room, but I'm too depressed... I was gonna get up and find the broom but I'm such a mess... my room is still messed up and I know why why man? because I'm depressed because I'm depressed because I'm depressed... sigh I was gonna go to class but I'm so depressed... I coulda cheated and I coulda passed but I'm such a mess. I am taking it next semester and I know why, why man? because I'm depressed because I'm depressed because I'm depressed... sigh I was gonna go to work but I'm too depressed I just got a new promotion but I'm such a mess now I've got a rope and I know why why man? because I'm depressed because I'm depressed because I'm depressed... sigh I was gonna go to court but I'm so depressed I was gonna pay my child support but I'm such a mess they took my whole paycheck and I know why why man? because I'm depressed because I'm depressed because I'm depressed... sigh I was gonna make love to you but I'm too depressed I was gonna eat yo ***** too but I'm such a mess now I'm jacking off and I know why, why man? because I'm depressed because I'm depressed because I'm depressed... sigh I messed up my entire life because I'm depressed I lost my kids and wife because I'm depressed now I'm sleeping on the sidewalk and I know why why man? because I'm depressed because I'm depressed because I'm depressed... sigh I'm gonna stop singing this song because I'm depressed I'm singing this whole thing wrong because I'm depressed and if I dont sell one copy I know why why man? cause after this verse I'll be in a hearse cause I'm so depressed... sigh
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58
this just in: a needless road rage killing a senseless movie theater killing a pointless middle school shooting a meaningless ****** suicide an irrational child homicide an illogical workplace massacre a specious robbery shooting a mistaken identity ****** an inane ****** for hire plot a random killing of a farm family a worthless gang related ****** a futile car jacking slaughter a crazy serial killing an groundless paperboy shooting an unnecessary police shooting an unfounded revenge ****** a juvenile crime gone wrong a harebrained scheme ending in blood a mad shooting spree more at eleven
0
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 11:45 AM UTC
a small slice of reality
theoretical ************ where the **** does it get you? you're still a bottom feeder entranced by the filthy floor boards of society
0
Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 11:08 AM UTC
jacking off
I wanna Play this trumpet louder than you quicker thank monkeys flinging their poo daylight, nighttime anywhere at all ****** up **** ups drop and crawl for me to blow my horn like you blow **** brass, *** grass and **** that’s sick drunk off beer and question marks evil smirks in trailer parks cigarettes and jacking off hitting bongs until I cough choke i spoke too quick again, *** brass, and **** that’s sick
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Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC
The Trumpet Rant
You and I You And I - I Could drown myself in melted polar ice caps, or illusions of Niagara Falls (or does it?) Could join a nudist colony Could dismember my body parts 'recreationally' Could (or will) document my own downward spiral/lay eggs in vast and immeasurable labyrinths/where the paradox of my self-pity mingles with my bragging/swaggering teen angst and date!-mate!-procreate!- into a thousand descendants of my rotting fleshhhhhh - You Present yourself in - Hallways rambling in front of me with asylums spilling into corridors of confusion Rrrrrrriiipppp of either paper pulling from notebooks or flesh pulling from bone Virtual college applications tabbed over with two different Buy Your Own Russian Wife! websites and ignored by your -loving parents- An arrogant 18-year-old boy standing before the Committee of Elders (pleading insanity) Twenty-four permanent markers with generic names The pseudo-poetic lure of "Call ___ For a GOOD TIME" graffitis on the bathroom wall of a Whole Foods you spend six weeks jacking off in - Look, that's great and all, but I think you are a (beanstalk), no time to (talk), less of a (walk) and more of a climb - to reach your face, and when I lean to kiss it (fee fi fo fum) I smell the blood of a human one (I'm tired of stooping and I'm tired of looking at old people) You And I Could have Been Anyone! But no, Just more of the same.
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Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
Hang Up after Hello (?)
Avenging activity among our society Based behind our bravery, Centered in our controlled community Dances our dimes distantly, Eating the Economy entirely, Freeing some family’s from financial stability Giving the Government full guidance to “Give willingly” Help save history and fix the hired hereby diligently Isolating the problem Indefinitely before another civil war breaks out immobilizing us internally, Jacking up jumping prices to live within our jungle of commonality Killing Kids futures by leaving them in debt for keeps of knowledge to secure their vivacity Living our Lives in stress leniently because we are your servants dwelling down here in the low depths of poverty. Massing out our Money on your table tops feasting morbidly on fattening foods while millions suffer from malnutrion Nobody speaking nervously now On the open opinion’s on our governments greed People pacing the streets for a piece to eat Quiet our questions or riots will quake the streets Rage ripping through our roads radiantly So sustain us all seriously separating the needy from situations of squandering Take hold of our Tantrums and turn them on the ones demanding this tangibility You’re yearning for yesterday’s better life Venom of today’s values vast out over our minds When will they welcome the revolution? Xenophobia exerts exteremremitys on our souls Zero Tolerance for Zaberism and Zolism is the way we go.
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May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 12:23 PM UTC
Life in the corrupt America
Fusing the concepts of diction with the; roll of a puuuup: ill container no brainer; the new name for all,, club bangers the flocking flamers, claiming they flow rain sick, fake **** time to face it like similes to basic subject matter could use a face lift I straight rip, jill jacking me off, cant touch these bars, leading to E.R. cough, cough; Hot sauce her eye, then fry that back side, spliff lit A big hit; leaves dome split                                                                            thoughts. . .              drift To higher places; perceive the cloudy spaces between the jaded hate spit peaceful protest; GRAVITY.. replace it Aliteration altered asinine assumptions Rhetoric to run with;               supplying the dumb-shits my cognition is "meta" there "fore"; fairest way is hitt'n Needing a "fix"; I pop "pre"-scription Sacred living's indifferent; no know's of his vision Firing blindly; we're inquisitive middlemen signing contracts binding booking assurance of purpose vexing questions perplex the messes milk spilt are peoples guesses nose tilt; angling obtuse, obese, feeding upon, the bottom line Most zealous of swine; hideous and hateful, unable, ungrateful better off as bacon plateful The line is fine; The shade is grey I'll ironically state, suggestions to negate your fate upon another's baseless psalms or petty predictions of living on your palms
0
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 4:22 PM UTC
What I Do At Work (no wonder the economy is tanking)
Fusing the concepts of diction with the; roll of a puuuup: ill container no brainer; the new name for all,, club bangers the flocking flamers, claiming they flow rain sick, fake **** time to face it like similes to basic subject matter could use a face lift I straight rip, jill jacking me off, cant touch these bars, leading to E.R. cough, cough; Hot sauce her eye, then fry that back side, spliff lit A big hit; leaves dome split                                                                            thoughts. . .              drift To higher places; perceive the cloudy spaces between the jaded hate spit peaceful protest; GRAVITY.. replace it Aliteration altered asinine assumptions Rhetoric to run with;               supplying the dumb-shits my cognition is "meta" there "fore"; fairest way is hitt'n Needing a "fix"; I pop "pre"-scription Sacred living's indifferent; no know's of his vision Firing blindly; we're inquisitive middlemen signing contracts binding booking assurance of purpose vexing questions perplex the messes milk spilt are peoples guesses nose tilt; angling obtuse, obese, feeding upon, the bottom line Most zealous of swine; hideous and hateful, unable, ungrateful better off as bacon plateful The line is fine; The shade is grey I'll ironically state, suggestions to negate your fate upon another's baseless psalms or petty predictions of living on your palms
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39
sometimes you can't only rent space in your mind to the ones you want to be there this landlord cannot control every tenant's presence but I think if you once leased a suite maybe even penthouse I've got you in a cramped studio jacking up the rent some people even own property but you're on the way out until maybe the last trace of you is a mis-labeled buzzer or a letter that never received your change of address
0
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
this landlord
Is was a long ride home. We were sober. Legal, maybe the best way to describe it. But a 185 kilometer drive, The morning after, On snowy roads Will test you at the core. It wasn't the *** with other people. She'd given a hand job to an eighteen year old, I'd ended up drunk and flaccid, With my head between the legs of a lady from New York City, And ******* Jesus christ, ******* Were never a point of contention between us. God has one gift and we'd never been stingy, jealous, Small minded control freaks or emotional kamikaze suiciders, Dive bombing the happiness out of each other, No way. Nor were we myopic work slaves jacking off to the next tech treat, Nor were we stingy uptight ***** faces, Trading in the allusion of human perfection. No way. We knew love and we knew life and we knew the power of new. But to say Jimi Hendrix wasn't the greatest axe player to ever trip. **** man, that just couldn't stand. So we listened, the windows shaking, The seething poison of artistic disagreement, Like nerve gas, art is serious **** you feel me? All Along the Watchtower, Hey Joe, Crosstown, Voodoo Child, Angel... Some **** just won't stand You dig?
0
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 5:36 PM UTC
Quarrels
Once upon a time flesh was my lover and I was wrapped in its sturdy density held together by the epidermis made mobile by my army of Vertebrates to stand tall and strut when possible. Vain was the brain the cerebrum conspired with the nerves to move me to its bidding to walk, to run, to coit and afterwards do some grocery shopping the heart was worse than the brain in its dramas and insinuations of love that made the poor gastrointestinal tract a home to the alien and willowy creatures such as butterflies tsk and I am shaken to my very core all my molars and incisors grinding itself for its beauty is its pain The brain was betrayed by its own Amygdala he he he Yes, I remember all the mechanisms working In their own tiny kingdoms serving the benign John or Anna or Sarah even if it just a simple task of jacking off if you could picture the neurons stretching elastic to reach that mental part where both ****** and fear reside. Still in the end when the earth eats you whole like the predator it really is all that is left is me bare bones a proof of greatness or mediocrity stark and irrefutable even if vanity denies the meaning of my bareness, by inventing the soul.
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Aug 19, 2011
Aug 19, 2011 at 9:03 PM UTC
Monologue of the Bones
*so here he was stripped naked in his bedroom aloof lost in ****** imagination his mind swimming with thoughts of big **** curvy hips and long legs how they looked without impediment of clothing he pictured his engorged member between a lass thighs his wet tongue swirling around her ****** leaving a trail of warm saliva on the areola occasionally his head would swivel scanning the **** magazine he held on his left hand a cross scrutiny drawn all over the teenage face as if he was admiring Da Vinci's art the right hand lubricated with lotion stroked up and down in a rhythmic motion he was breathing hard as the hand performed self loving there was something about the ****** expression pleasure painted all over the contours of his flame: it was ecstasy but not in religious sense his eyelids would droop from time to time and the lustful smile would camouflage inner conflict the tempo of jacking increased and the magma started rising eyes still glued on the mag his body started to spasm it wasn't just a little twitchy ****** it was a volcano of pleasure that shook every inch of his skin the magazine fell he clutched the blanket and clenched his mouth shut he looked at his sloppy handful junk and thought guiltily what have i done......*
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Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
SOLO TOUCH
It’s getting to be that I gotta get ****** just to go Super market shopping these days. Medication de rigueur, Just to brave the dazed & demolished Faces of forlorn fiends, Those 400 SAT score & scoured souls Stuck all this time in the Lower middle classes. Down for the count, A toothpaste tube-squeezing cohort, Squishing out the last dollop Of Colgate Optic White From their menial, un-redemptive misery; Caught on a crumbling ledge, Soon to fall even lower-- Darwin’s social Ziggurat Still happily-ever-crazy, After-all-these-years. Meanwhile, the rich, The few, that lucky few, Get ever more clever, ever more rich, Devising sinister tricks & subterfuges, To wit: exterminate inflation While simultaneously jacking prices, Higher prices weekly. Double-digit inflation: The Obama Administration’s Best kept Official Secret. Meanwhile the poor know better, Grow more bitter each day. It's not even subtle anymore. Everything costs more. Everything is expensive When you have no money to buy. Roaming the grocery aisles, Predator packs, Reminiscing the good old days, When a job seemed a birthright, Apple pie:  no longer as American as . . . Dazed and ragged like Zombies, They roam the cornucopia, Carnal grins on ravenous lips, “Clean-up on Aisle 5,” Screams the cashier.
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May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 1:18 AM UTC
"Supermarket Sweep"
me n bob dylan won day but night was different we hurt eachother badly and alan was not so gay and stopped jacking kerouacly speaking so we ate our sunflowers and walted away into the sunset but knowing absolutely TRUE GLORY
0
Jul 7, 2010
Jul 7, 2010 at 10:53 AM UTC
the rest is known
By Kuzhur Wilson (trans by Ra Sh) It could be said that I, who should reach the office by 4, reached only at 4.35 because I spent much time jacking off fantasizing about that girl who never got clearly imprinted in my mind despite best efforts. But, that wasn’t the case. It could be said that I, who should reach the office by 4, reached only at 4.35 because of a luxurious bath dissolving in the new brand of Chandrika soap. But, that wasn’t the case. That wasn’t the case at all. May be an incident which you will never accept as true could be the case. That was the case. That indeed was the case. It happened so. It happened approximately so. While driving along granting the police enough cause to book me, by switching on the AC and setting the volume of music high and switching off the AC and lowering the volume of music and looking at the watch and switching on the AC and setting the music at a high volume again and looking at the watch and looking with scorn at the cell phone in the silent mode and again switching on the AC and switching it off and again setting the volume of music high and switching it off, There stood the house of death beyond that curve. I see it every day. A cute house that prompts one to sing how pretty you are today! I didn’t stop the car, folks. It stopped by itself. I have never seen such a house of death looking like a dome of gold. Upon my father, I haven’t, I swear. As I enter the house, a hum on my lips, flower upon flower look at me and smile. They smile at me with a hum that says you scoundrel never have you thrown even a glance at us though we have always been here laughing aloud from the edges of the fence. As if the song how pretty you are to look at has come alive. O flowers in the house of death how pretty you are to look at (like you, I am not bothered that grammar is all twisted here.) How pretty you are to look at! Among the flowers lay the dead man who was as pretty. Don’t have to sing that I sang the how pretty you are song. That house was the chorus of the song how pretty you are. How pretty you are sung the dead man’s wife. How pretty you are sung the dead man’s kids. How pretty you are sung the dead man’s neighbours. How pretty you are sung the dead man’s friends. How pretty you are sung even the dead man’s mom. You may not believe this. My ancient desire, that wish of my life, to give a kiss to the dead man at that precise moment pulled down all barriers. I gave I gave I gave a kiss to that man. The reek of alcohol mixed with the fragrance of Ittar. Mixed with the scent of flowers. Mixed with the scent of burning incense. Oh! I gave him a kiss. Folks, it was not like giving a kiss to an acquaintance dead or not. Honestly no. A kiss given to an unacquainted dead man. No issues whether it was right to give a kiss or receive one. Oh! Even after writing so much I am not satiated. I only remember that, reeking with the smell of liquor and letting out a nasty swear word, he asked me where have you been all these days? Now, I am entering my office at 4.35. You know why I got late today. The dead man too.
0
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 1:49 AM UTC
4.35 PM
By Kuzhur Wilson (trans by Ra Sh) It could be said that I, who should reach the office by 4, reached only at 4.35 because I spent much time jacking off fantasizing about that girl who never got clearly imprinted in my mind despite best efforts. But, that wasn’t the case. It could be said that I, who should reach the office by 4, reached only at 4.35 because of a luxurious bath dissolving in the new brand of Chandrika soap. But, that wasn’t the case. That wasn’t the case at all. May be an incident which you will never accept as true could be the case. That was the case. That indeed was the case. It happened so. It happened approximately so. While driving along granting the police enough cause to book me, by switching on the AC and setting the volume of music high and switching off the AC and lowering the volume of music and looking at the watch and switching on the AC and setting the music at a high volume again and looking at the watch and looking with scorn at the cell phone in the silent mode and again switching on the AC and switching it off and again setting the volume of music high and switching it off, There stood the house of death beyond that curve. I see it every day. A cute house that prompts one to sing how pretty you are today! I didn’t stop the car, folks. It stopped by itself. I have never seen such a house of death looking like a dome of gold. Upon my father, I haven’t, I swear. As I enter the house, a hum on my lips, flower upon flower look at me and smile. They smile at me with a hum that says you scoundrel never have you thrown even a glance at us though we have always been here laughing aloud from the edges of the fence. As if the song how pretty you are to look at has come alive. O flowers in the house of death how pretty you are to look at (like you, I am not bothered that grammar is all twisted here.) How pretty you are to look at! Among the flowers lay the dead man who was as pretty. Don’t have to sing that I sang the how pretty you are song. That house was the chorus of the song how pretty you are. How pretty you are sung the dead man’s wife. How pretty you are sung the dead man’s kids. How pretty you are sung the dead man’s neighbours. How pretty you are sung the dead man’s friends. How pretty you are sung even the dead man’s mom. You may not believe this. My ancient desire, that wish of my life, to give a kiss to the dead man at that precise moment pulled down all barriers. I gave I gave I gave a kiss to that man. The reek of alcohol mixed with the fragrance of Ittar. Mixed with the scent of flowers. Mixed with the scent of burning incense. Oh! I gave him a kiss. Folks, it was not like giving a kiss to an acquaintance dead or not. Honestly no. A kiss given to an unacquainted dead man. No issues whether it was right to give a kiss or receive one. Oh! Even after writing so much I am not satiated. I only remember that, reeking with the smell of liquor and letting out a nasty swear word, he asked me where have you been all these days? Now, I am entering my office at 4.35. You know why I got late today. The dead man too.
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32
Jacking it up to knock it down the sound of collapse perhaps the saddest heard by humanity’s jaded ears Heroes made and defeated by apathetic fools, the unwitting tools of the corporate masses, who bow before well-to-do ***** in the name of capitalism's sanctified gluttony The will of the enlightened frightened into dark corners of degradation awaiting the salvation of one who will deliver them from the chains of society’s unadorned ignorance Bewildered sheep grasping at the tattered remnants of this wasted democracy.
0
Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 5:18 AM UTC
Jacked Up
i wish i could say that making love to you is like jacking off to a wall but when we sleep together **** i ring my heart out raw
0
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 12:19 AM UTC
2
Tap dance on girders, Ben Franklin Bridge Jubilant prepubescent boy making mockery Alpha doggie dodging any common sense Step ball change and windmills free range Little show off teetering on brink of disaster And a dare of unabashed audacity Stare, stare, and stare down his prey Tap a whack tap, double time flick flack Intensity that cannot possibly go away Dared youth’s eyes give all hints to fear Though no tear will come to his pride Other boy steps and glides Reach comes forward, disaster tap mongrel Puppy stepper’s got to be a go-getter Holds his hand out and comes quick the grab Trembles a fright, Speedline in sight This rail from Jersey to Pennsy might bite Shaking and tapping, absurdum jacking The slip; it’s over as you knew it would be Alpha Dog sniffs that bridge to this day Searching permissiveness, lost in foray But if he hears one tap or a click or a clank Jittery twitchiness, on that you can bank
0
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 5:59 PM UTC
A Dare Of Absurdity
Looking at these scribbles right now, Trying to solve this math problem. ahh, its not right ! all of these numbers are just swirling in my head. Lets me just rewrite this one more time you take love and you and subtract the trust and all you get is the one night stands with that cigarettes still burning in that ashtray on that night stand and a bottle of Jack hanging right beside it but you if you take that bottle of Jack. you add it to an average home, it stains the story book of life and now all we see is tales of a broken home. Tales of fear and uncertainty Now if we divide this broken home into our broken world we get a girl in her teens staring into a pregnancy test. She broken like that ****** the broke her dreams. because we try to sweep up all of our broken traits into the dustpan called or minds but we don't get all of the glass in the dust pan if we multiply that shattered glass and divide it into a broken home we see a man sitting with that Jack, jacking around with his family's money because that bar stool is closer than the churches. Lets take that Church and factor it into that teenage girl praying to a god she doesn't believe in because all of her friends aren't really friends. you see, her friends are dealing with their own broken homes and have a mother who is dealing with that bar stool you put it all together and we don't get a math problem we see our problems with coping and our societies biggest fear admitting that we have a problem.
0
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
Do The Math