"jonestown" poems
Let out my ego and sense of order this comes from beyond this comes from the me between me if I listen I may hear it speaking, it's sleeping but talking and rocking, not still, and perhaps it awakens, perhaps it will open its eye but we mustn't depend on the idea that once he has opened his eye the whole dream of the world will just fade like my dream tomorrow morning which I already know I'll forget, like specific angles and perspectives of specific places in space and time that have slipped away but once in a while break through to consciousness
Like the sliding breakaway walls of Timber Drive elementary school
Or the rippling pond into which I fell and the old smile and laugh of my flesh and blood rescued me and held my body afloat in the air for a moment; and once I was the proud owner of a wind powered hovercraft, another invention spilling out onto the table of attention like the actual pig intestines the popular girl's parents used in her science fair project, the one that dragged on until the last monkey refusing to be locked up with the windows 98s in the archaic computer lab was tranquilized and convulsed on the gym/cafeteria floor in front of the PTA, who'd peed blood all down the front of their sweatpants; he was firing wildly hoping to commit suicide by zookeeper
Not knowing that humanitarian laws would prevent him from achieving his bliss, for the monkey knew as the Gnostics did that to bring a child into this black iron prison is a sin.
Did the Jonestown Kool-aid free them from the prison? Do they now walk among gods within the kingdom of the heavenly spirit? None shall know until the 13 crystal skulls are re-assembled and total gnosis emanates to the people in globe-spanning shockwaves.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 9:08 PM UTC
Is this electricity real
Or just in our heads?
Your touch is magnetic
But still you're lonely in bed
You take me to places,
I'd never dare tread
When push comes to shove
I'm stuck on the edge
You tell me to jump
So I relent, then mid-descent
your silhouette dissolves
and blows away in the wind ~
Memories haunt me
& I cannot pretend;
Tell me when exactly
did forever after end?
Though I wax poetic
I feign to comprehend
How to be your everything
and not just something I dreamt
You swept me off my feet
And into my grave
In the shadows I’ll lay and wait
And long for your deceased embrace
While someone else crept into place
And a ghost I remain, maybe someday
you’ll come around again
And I’ll see your face
Reanimate my corpse
I'm par for the course
Just paint our perfect life
In my mental frame of sorts
I subject myself to this cycle
Time after time
Soaking in emotion
Hung out to dry
In that moment,
I know you feel the same
But you're so open-minded
Your brain short-circuited in the rain
Am I your personal perverse circus
What's the endgame
You drive me wild and untamed
Toxic and vile, yet I cannot refrain
The signs I ignored
You always wanted more
I split open my soul
and spilled out on the floor
Mythic, this endless bliss
Your poison is venomous
“I taste it and spit in your kiss”
My mistress
Stay forever young my favorite drug
Got me punch drunk
From Jonestown with love,
-Reidums
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 3:17 PM UTC
You leave the apostrophes to someone else, I can't even make it in to 'im', instead I'm writing papers about the Oneida and Jonestown murders.
The television is on, the air purifier
is dying. I can hear the ***** fan belt of my laptop on the fritz or the fizzy bubbles of
The Cranberry Redbull that I'm trying.
I could be a great sport. Ya know, anything you want.
Jump to.
Make the Miso soup, clear off the kitchen table, buy brand new markers with no recent pictures drawn into their nibs.
Throw in comfy pants. I don't know what else I have to offer, a clean bath? Some books? A magazine?
The weather is exciting, we could call get Pneumonia or at least share a drink and catch Hep-C,
Put our children together to catch the gift of Shingles. A motorcycle toy for my Uritis it is better. The roses from the sweater paired with leather, leggings, and a kick *** song. Inside we can talk about his hair cut and going to California. I'm intimidated by you moreover when you tell me you can eat airplanes with only your bare hands. And even if I'm a bore, I still have Streptococcus. So seal and deliver. My cerulean goddess, with the best, thank thank you for the nightmare fever you stole from the words I wrote. And at the end of your book you don't have to cop out and fall along a crippled sky. With crippled words, verbs, and losers. Score cards of different colors. Tunics proud as the walk to the river we voted from Baptism to demon-voter. Stand and deliver, flora and fauna that threatens to eat our home.
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 3:11 AM UTC
I was just thinking how much I would like to make you a cup of coffee.
In the morning, I'll wake up earlier than you and go to splash my face with ice cold water.
I'll put on your Brian Jonestown Massacre Tshirt, or maybe the sweatshirt you bought me last week.
Then i would make us coffee, in your brilliant white kitchen, when no one else is around.
Your coffee maker is foreign, yet strangely familiar.
You will wake to the strong scent, and I'll be waiting, with two cups of smooth black comfort.
Mar 11, 2010
Mar 11, 2010 at 6:47 PM UTC
Come and join the fun
This world has just begun
to get crazy
There's room for everyone
**** your life
It's not worth living
So follow me
Down this road
That No one knows of
Just the moon
And the stars
I'll take you
Far away
From this place
No one
Will find you there.
Once you leave with me
And finally see
What you've been missing
You'll never want to leave
They say that time
Is never ending
So follow me
Down this road
That No one knows of
Just the moon
And the stars
I'll take you
Far away
From this place
No one
Will find you there
As if youve
disappeared
I'll think I'm in the clear
But this is just an ordinary fix
For dealing with a world like this
End this
Is the end
Is the
End this
is the end
Is the
End this
Is the end
Is the
End this
Is the end
Is...
Jonestown.
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 1:05 AM UTC
Senator Bob Corker° refers
To what has become the scary result
Of blind devotion to Donald Trump.
He calls the movement a GOP cult.
It's easy to join the cult if you
Don't mind sacrificing free will.
Getting out of the cult is another
Story; that will take some skill.
Members lose their sense of self
When they join the Cult of Trump.
When Trump says "Bow!" they all bow;
When he says "Jump!" boy they jump!
Cult members in Congress have
Handed legislative power
Over to Trump, their supreme
Leader before whom they cower.
Regarding constitutional
Authority: will it last?
Or will it suffer a slow death
And thus become a thing of the past?
All the Leader has to say
Is "They are wrong and I am right,"
And followers agree en masse.
Not to agree would be impolite.
Effusive praise and allegiance must go
To the Leader who is all-about-me.
He says he knows what's good for you.
Woe to you if you disagree.
It used to be that presidents
Worked for the people, but we have found
That currently with the Cult of Trump,
It's the other way around.
How many more will drink the Kool-Aid?
Who else will fall under Trump's spell?
Remember Jonestown? In the end,
Things did not go very well.
-by Bob B (6-14-18)
°Republican Senator from Tennessee
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 10:24 AM UTC
People died.
Right there in the video.
They lost their lives after cyanide
laced drinks were forced
down their throats
and they choked.
And they died.
After listening to the tape, I researched.
918 people filled that room
many were confused, conflicted
but all addicted
to a drug
a plague
a bug, parasite named
Jim Jones.
He talked about Russia, and murdered congressmen
and how the world would not listen.
but, Jones, I listened.
I heard the voices cheering, I did
but I also heard the voices saying "I'm not ready to die"
I heard children start to cry
I heard them asking if they would to die,
all the while high on this drug you fed them.
Grab their jaws
open their mouths
pour it in.
Drug is defined as
"A medicine or other substance which has a physiological effect when ingested or otherwise introduced into the body, "
while Drank the Kool Aid is defined as
"Someone who has been so bought into their leader's vision or cause they will blindly follow to their own doom."
I WON'T!
So when you say to drank the Kool Aid
I stopped listening.
I watched
I watched as I poured out Kool Aid on the floor.
I imagined 918 people doing the same.
when a voice said, "take some"
I listened.
And I said no.
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 6:35 PM UTC