"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
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 11:14 AM UTC
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?
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 10:22 AM UTC
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
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 12:20 AM UTC
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.
Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 8:23 PM UTC
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
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
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.
Feb 17, 2011
Feb 17, 2011 at 6:59 PM UTC
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
Sep 8, 2012
Sep 8, 2012 at 9:19 PM UTC
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
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 11:45 AM UTC
theoretical ************
where the **** does it get you?
you're still a bottom feeder
entranced by the filthy floor boards
of society
Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 11:08 AM UTC
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
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC
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.
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
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.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 12:23 PM UTC
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
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 4:22 PM UTC
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
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
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?
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 5:36 PM UTC
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.
Aug 19, 2011
Aug 19, 2011 at 9:03 PM UTC
*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......*
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
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.
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 1:18 AM UTC
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
Jul 7, 2010
Jul 7, 2010 at 10:53 AM UTC
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.
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 1:49 AM UTC
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.
Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 5:18 AM UTC
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
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 12:19 AM UTC
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
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 5:59 PM UTC
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.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC