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ConnectHook Sep 2015
[Infernal Dialectic of Ongoing Struggle]

Spoke Mao Zedong to Kim Jong Ill:
We languish here in deep red hell—
Let us confer and analyze
What factors revolutionize
The contradictions still.


Replied Lil’ Kim: The running dogs
Beguiled by class and capital
Have overdrawn and overspent.
They bank on debt, and make lament
And flounder in their fogs…


Kim chee does stink, but tastes so good
Do have some more, oh comrade Mao.
Fermented cabbage goes so well
With Hennessey and blondes (in hell)
when
Juche’s in da hood!

The Fearless Leader (now a shade)
Responded thus: Just give them time.
Our doctrines spread, their God is dead
Their sons shall sing ‘The East is Red’
Our party’s got it made.


Ill Kim displayed a wicked grin:
Our rocket-launches make them fear
They scold and cluck, and then they duck
While Hillary tries to pass the buck
I think we still could win…


The Chairman thought and sipped some fire
in communistic reverie, and feeling very clever, he
Replied to Ill: This place we’ll fill
with dead reactionaries still—
fifth columns to inspire.

Now let the thousand flowers bloom
And let one thousand thoughts contend.
Remember **? Remember ‘Nam?
We triumphed over Uncle Sam—
He’s limping toward his doom.


A wizened ghost now drifted in
Because his name had been proclaimed
A wispy beard (as yet unseared)
Revealed the mastermind once feared:
Old Uncle ** Chi Minh !

** **—old friend! Draw near! Draw near,
Spoke Mao: In solidarity
We hail your work upon the earth
You showed them what a war is worth
You’re always welcome here.


Ill Kim and I were wondering
How best to make the forward leap—
conspiring ******* their cow
and smoke their duck and drain their sow
while they are buying bling.

** Chi, old warrior, why the frown?
Upon your wisdom now we wait.
The forces red you bravely led
You staked your claim until they bled
And brought their nation down.


Old uncle **, the sage revered,
did smolder with his cigarette.
Viet Cong thought is hard to grasp
It slithers like a jungle asp…
** paused and stroked his beard:

You speak without the people’s light!
I criticize in strongest terms
Your revolutionary thought.
We need to ask our friend Pol ***
How best to steer this fight.

Such gradual change, a halfway measure
stalls the Bourgeoisie’s demise.
Our true Khmer Rouge was not a stooge
of Kapital. His fame was huge
for plundering their treasure.

True, he had to purge his nation
such is revolution, gents…
The traitor classes see the masses,
through reactionary  glasses.
Death or re-education!

We ought to sow his rural seed
for pure agrarian reform.
The bodies in the rice can rot
to fertilize the harvest plot—
the people’s mouths to feed.


When Pol *** heard his tactics lauded
he flew in to join the jabber:
Take a tip from Kampuchea!
Listen well and I will teach ya!

Kim and Mao applauded.

City folk are useless eaters
glasses-wearing foes and cheaters!
let them slave – and always save
their corpses for the fertile grave
Until they love their leaders.

From the barrel power grows—
(I don’t mean kim chee barrel, boys).
Now learn my way.We’ll have our say
Their weakened states will wither away.

The Red dictator rose.

Prepared to ramble on for hours
(the way Fidel so loves to do)
Pol ***’s harangue now fired the gang
like rockets falling on Da Nang
emitting sparks in showers.

Hell is known for lack of stasis—
Sudden throes of quaking fire;
fitful flares from from Satan’s lairs
and constant similar affairs
the population faces…

Thus Saint Pol ***, still naming names
along with Mao and Kim-Jong Il
while ** Chi screamed, and then blasphemed
were swept en masse, and unredeemed
into the surging flames.

Yet still they plotted in the blaze
with dialectic deviousness.
Philosophizing, strategizing
stinking sulphur brimstone rising;
ghosts in the yellow haze . . .

        ☭ END ☭
http://tinyurl.com/q6uyx34

I was trapped lured into lie by a clever evil mastermind .
Lost in a strange land locked away in a basement guarded by some twisted hamster on steroids known as a kangaroo.

Sure I had been tricked by evil means by the mastermind known as Helen hey look she told me there was a huge **** down in the basement with tons of strippers and ******* who wouldn't fall for that? Duh everyone knows you never let strippers in the good part of your house .

So here I was living in the basement like some sad nerd who probably posts on a web site everyday thinking they are totally awesome cause they have five hundred followers when in reality they'd be lucky if they had even one human friend in real life.

What ?
I was talking  about one of those star wars nerd sites cause everyone knows I'd never bash a site like Hello that is ruled by a evil cult leader who moved to the states after collecting money under guise to help the site when in reality it was for his *** change .

Yeah Id never pick on someone like that .
Frankly I'm hurt you'd think that  I'm kidding and as long as I'm breathing I will always be your favorite ruthless ******* slash ****** with a heart of gold.

I sat there in my new cell wondering just what the hell I was to do all the while kangaroo jack kept his beady little eyes locked onto me .
Yeah I knew he was sitting there mentally ******* me with his eyes I felt so naked course id probably feel better if I actually put some clothes on.
Duh who wears clothes at a **** *******?
Had I known this was all a lure I would have kept my clothes on and kept my trusty **** whistle and not got into this mess to begin with.

I was ready to scream for help when all the sudden I herd a sound .
Muffled as it was still I herd it the kangaroo hopped as it approached me oh dear lord man I was far to fragile to be assaulted by this weird *** overgrown rat .

The sound was so strange it sounded like the men at work song land from down under but where the **** was it coming from!
The Kangaroo was getting far to close it leaned over into my face and being a true man I did what any other true man would do.

Began to cry and beg this ****** up gerbil not to **** me.
Answer the ******* phone mate.
It said to me as I was stunned .

Hey ******* answer the ******* phone .
It said again  incase your to high or didn't read it the first time .
You ******* talk and what ******* phone I asked trying to hold back the tears let me tell you these animals were known killers they were like Canadians on crack with incredibly strong legs yeah imagine what nickel back could do with powers like these those heartless ******* would be unstoppable .


I was lost naked and afraid minus the camera crew and some ***** chick who smelled really bad and ******* at me for not having great hunting skills why not call that show what millions of people wearing clothes call it .
Marriage yeah now there's some scary ****!

Look **** for brains snap out of hit .
The kangaroo said as it kicked me upside the head .
Answer the ******* phone so we can get on with this story you *******.

I swear those kangaroos really had a mouth on them who knew such cute looking standing rabbit could be such a *******.

Okay so where the hells the phone and never kick me again you got it!?
I have no clue where your furry foots been.
Up your grandmas *** mate and where else would I keep my phone in my ******* pouch .

Look You can insult me how ever you like Gerbil but I'm not putting my hand in that pouch besides that is the oldest trick in the book you know how many times I fell for that with grandpa ?

What?

This steroid fed mouse asked as it looked at me like all other people and some who read this might think.
What the **** is wrong with me?

Yeah that's a whole other write in itself .

Answer the ******* phone in my pouch now *******!
Umm no .
Why not ?
Cause I don't want to .
Look you ***** if  I had long enough arms I would do it but I cant okay
you know how ****** up it is to have arms this short now you know why the T Rex was the most ******* dinosaur of them all .

Yeah I had to admit my new friend slash captor had a point imagine being a total badass that cant ******* boy that's some ****** up **** but enough with the foreplay hamsters.

After some back and fourth  debate I against great protest reached in this hopping *******'s pouch and found a cell phone .

Hello ?
Well Gonzo how you like your new digs mate?
I knew that voice anywhere .

Helen !

My friend turned evil super villain explained to me her evil plan to keep me hostage and force me to co write for eternity in this basement guarded twenty four seven by Ursula her trained evil kangaroo henchwoman .

It was clear all hope was lost how could I ever escape the clutches of such twisted evil?
Then it occurred to me I would simply bust the window in the basement and get the **** out of here .

I had to act fast cause it's almost happy hour at the bar kids and this hamster is thirsty.
  
Hey Ursula I really got to use the bathroom .
Well go ahead mate the toilets in the corner .

Yeah but you know I really like my privacy you know I mean I tell you those burritos are really talking back if you know what I mean but hey if you can stand the smell be my guest I mean sure the oder alone will strip the paint off the walls but I'm sure after you pass out from the fumes you will be fine.

Fine you stupid ******* just make it quick Ursula said as she bounced her grouchy *** upstairs .

It was my only shot and thank God they had left a trusty boomerang around so I could bust the window to make my escape its almost like it was planned that way being I'm writing the story.
No **** Sherlock!

I was free as a bird if a bird had a really bad drinking problem and twisted sense of humor and was totally naked .
I looked to the front gates but there was no way I could escape that way barbwire and flesh didn't mix that well besides without there draw bridge down the crocodiles would eat me alive yeah these Aussies were total freaks .

So like some naked ninja I made my way around Helens Compound of evil making my way upstairs I slipped into a room in hopes of finding just where my clothes had been taken to.

Hey help me .
I herd a mans voice say as I flipped  on the light to find a horrific scene a strange man chained to the wall no wonder this evil woman was such a prolific writer .

Hey mate help me please get me out of here .
I knew this woman was evil but after some deep discussion I learned this poor man trapped in this upstairs *** dungeon was secretly her husband  I know how weird who has there *** dungeon upstairs ?

I don't know what I'm going to do I'm never getting out of here Gonz .
I unchained my knew friend after he told me he knew how to find a way out of here and after finding my clothes and grabbing my trusty case of bourbon we put on some music caught a killer buzz and totally forgot  why we were trying to escape the clutches of evil to begin with.

The party was great we laughed we cried we watched some really freaky homemade movies once only made me love my knew Aussie brother more Shawn was ******* awesome a bit of a freak but ******* awesome.

The party was going full swing when the doors few open and there she was my evil long lost sister Helen and her demented *** evil henchwoman  slash house pet kangaroo Ursula who although a animal had some great legs I have to admit .


The gigs up Gonz it's off to the basement with you forever !
I looked at my new best friend thought about how sad he was when I found him and thought of the great times we could have roaming the wasteland looking for gasoline like in mad max just being totally drunk instead.

Yeah then Helen yelled in her outside voice inside and bout made me **** myself so I said **** this and left my brother behind and hauled ***  

I made it to the kitchen but was trapped by Helen and her evil **** minion .

Give it up Gonz  Helen said .
At that moment I grabbed a knife .

Oh cut the crap Gonz stop being silly what are you going to do with that ?

She thought she had me but I had one last trick up my sleeve .

I opened the fridge and grabbed her trusty box of wine
You ******* don't you dare hurt my baby!

Yeah you want this back I said as walked forward and out of the kitchen towards the veranda .

You get back Helen or I swear the box of wine gets it.

Oh  yeah you stab that box then I will drop this fifth of your bourbon over the rail Helen said with that devilish look in her eyes.

You heartless ***** !
She dropped the bottle I swear it cried daddy as it fell to the ground shattering to a million pieces on the concreate beside the pool wow I had to admit she really had a nice place.

I mean sure she was twisted evil heartless had a awesome husband she kept in a upstairs *** dungeon but enough about Helens  good quality's  .

I looked as my pour bottle lay shattered upon the floor  .
I laughed you know that wasn't my only bottle .

I know that mate then reached to Ursula grabbing yet another bottle from her pouch dam you Australia why must you have so many ****** up animals in one place its like a zoo on crack.

Helen went to drop yet another bottle over the rail when I cracked.
Okay enough!
I will put your box of wine down just don't hurt the bottle okay .

Deal mate Helen replied .

We both slowly put are true passions in life down .
I'm glad you could see things my way Gonz now time for you to get writing .

Yeah Helen I don't think so I said pulling the trusty boomerang from a location I rather not disclose hey I been to prison before you be surprised the stuff people smuggle in.
Dam that hurt.!


I threw the boomerang with all my might this was my one truly  last chance at getting out of here.
But like some Aussie ninja Helen just ducked the thing  as  it flew past her head went flying around the house and turned direction coming straight towards me hitting me in the skull.

As I fell to my death music played as I took that long dramatic one story fall .
I hit the pavement like Lindsey Lohans career.

I laid there broken my new best friend speaking to me no gonz don't leave me we could have are own spinoff if only you didn't die .
Shawn my brother I will never forget you but I have just one last thing to say to you are you listening .

Yes mate I am.

And at that moment of dire sadness I ripped the biggest **** .
Shawn busted up laughing as above Helen looked at Ursula
Men are so ******* disgusting .

And later as they all sat looking down upon me from the veranda Helen furious at her man slaves betrayal told her partner in crime slash killer kangaroo .

Ursula go fetch the battery out of the car and the ****** clamps someone is going to be punished .
Shawn's face lit up with joy yay he exclaimed .
Helen shoot him a look .

I mean oh no such horror please don't torture me mistress   .
But hey don't judge them there not freaks there Australian.

Ursula shook her head as she made her way to fetch the car battery .
Jesus Christ why couldn't I have been Mel Gibson's pet.

Helen looked down one last time at her dead brothers body .
But to her surprise he was   gone .
The dramatic Halloween music played as Shawn looked to his evil temptress slash wife .

Mistress was that the boogeyman?

She slapped the **** outta him **** no its just that lovable perverted misspelling ***** across the water everyone calls Gonzo.

She shook her head and laughed to herself .
We will meet again my friend .


Until next time kids or Helen finds and actually kills
me stay crazy.

Gonz
Valerie Jan 2011
When I met you I didn't think it would be this way
In fact I had my eyes on someone else
But really that was just a step in your direction
And more help to find myself.

And when I found myself
In one all-night-long conversation of digging deep in my soul
I realized that was just a stepping stone
To where I am now, just another paid toll.

Your image had been so foggy in my mind
I knew not of who you were
And not of who you could be
Or even of the power
You had over me.

It was a gradual pull
Tugging me towards you
A look through a crowd
A brief touch while walking across a room.

As I recall now
I vaguely knew of the connection
How gravity would pull us together
Without me paying any attention.

I let you keep me
You asked so sweetly
My head told me no
But my heart disagreed.

I answered with a kiss
The one you had been craving
I let you have no more
I had secrets I was saving.

And look at where we are now
Many adventures have been had
And many more to come
There hasn't been an inch of anything bad.

I'm madly in love
Completely clumsy over you
Totally twitter-painted
With everything you are and everything you do.

A night without you is insanity
As much as it is good for me
The space is as nice as it is lonely
But that's a healthy thing to be.

I could just lay in bed with you all day
Lounging arrogantly in the ****
I enjoy it the most
But going out is good too.

And I suppose I'd probably get sick
Of lounging all the time
The rarity is so fun
And probably why it feels so nice.

I could get lost in your eyes
And stare at you forever
I swear love is like a drug...
Can we stay addicted together?

Forever.

Take my hand in yours
I'll tell you all that's in my heart
Open all my doors
And this is only the start.

Let's take on the world
I'll be your mastermind
I can't do it without you
And we've got plenty of time.

Our love can conquer anything
That's not something that I just feel
But something I know
Something that is stable and real.

I love you, I love you, I love you!
I wish I had a better phrase
I'll scream it at the top of my lungs
'Til I'm blue in the face.

But that will never entirely describe
Exactly how I feel
That's why I write all these rhymes
To express in full detail.

Don't ever let me go
Don't ever let me go
I had to say it twice
To get my point across
Once just wouldn't suffice.

I hope you know what you're getting yourself into
I know I say this a lot
And if I had the appropriate words
I'd tell you exactly what you've caught.

Me.

This is all me right here
And if you don't approve
You can **** it
Cause this is what you got yourself into.

So here I am
All my heart put into words
And as the time goes by
My emotions continue to stir.

And create something tangible
Of stability and strength
Like a rope it braids
Into a hearty and on-going length.

So let's rule the world together
Just take it over
Grand supreme exalted dictator
And your mastermind lover.
SSK<3   AKA: Valerie Garcia
CK Baker Jan 2017
So I'll have mine
and you'll have yours?
who could ask
for anything more!
grey beards march
the union jack
build a wall
and send them back!  

Grudge, sludge
a sanguine view
****** off
and take the cue
hide, plunge
aristocrat
run the field
like an old tom cat

Narrow pass
and capital flow
falling crude
and currency woe
deep depression,
mutineers
the mastermind
of project fear!

Silver spoon
at Hampton court
madness waits
in Davenport
divisible
and off the grid
**** it up
100 quid

Helen’s horsemen
unified
the springbok club
will never hide
plebiscite
in deep despair
an open scroll
Trafalgar square  

Grapple, grovel
sentry shame
along the shore
of river Thames
king of wankers
lord of beat
break the rule
of old elite!

Stone the posse
bullets bare
load the chambers
fists in air
voices, faces
haunted souls…
should i stay
or should i go?
AidaDonn Jan 2016
So dominant; he is.
Heartless; never leave.
He's kinda vindictive.
Can't forget, do forgive.
Men and women are equal
None are *above
the other
In rights and respect
Equal

Men have strength yes
Yet it's women who endure

Men and women
Both are intelligent
As their brains made of the same matter
Biologically here equality stands firm

Differences of course are there
Yet minuscule
Appearances cast aside
Only  few can be observed

Women and men
Both are sensitive and feel
Yet where women show it; display
Men conceal; pretend not to feel
Society kills

In tactics and ideas
Is where our message ends
For  too often  it's said to
Disregard the thoughts of women
Too  dumb and feeble minded to be
 Of Value and interest

Yet where there's Winston Churchill
The mastermind of Britain
There's  also Elizabeth the 1st
The queen who beat the Spanish Armada

Hence with logics like this
Any notion of ****** inferiority
Can be easily dismissed
As utterly ridiculous.
A view point I agree strongly upon equality not feminism but the equality of both men and women!
Rachel May 2015
He made a game
That no one could play
Playing with fire
With his deadly smiles
Heavenly voice
Hide the devil inside
He's a victor
But not a hero
Soon he will fall
Torn into pieces
With his silly jokes
Fascinated by beauty
He made a collection
Manipulating emotions
Like a piece of cake
No questioning
He's definitely the
Mastermind
This story is called death of a superhero.

We see the superhero flying at full speed after a getaway vehicle.  A group of armed men just robbed over one million dollars in cash from the bank and are now speeding through the city.  He darts back and forth to dodge the shower of bullets flying at him from the car, which was preventing him from getting any closer.

"I can't let these crooks get away," he grunted to himself as he curved back and forth through the air.

Suddenly he was blind sighted by a large black object coming from the car.  It was a high powered electric tazer.  It hit him in the side and his muscles locked up, he stopped mid air and went crashing down and smacked and bounced on the ground.  This bought the thieves time to escape from his view.  By the time he got out of it and regained control of his muscles enough to fly, the crooks had maneuvered the city like a maze, and he didn't know where to look, they had gotten away.  He looked over several city blocks and couldn't find him, and was forced to give up.

"****" he said to himself.

He flew off to the nearby park and found a secluded spot to meditate and heal.

That was the forth unsuccessful attempt to catch bank robbers this week!



On the news that night

"The Tomerarenai purotto corporation just received over $5 million dollars in donations from an anonymous donor this evening for their new project on Zenchō hill outside city limits.

The project to build a new factory there has been underway for three months now and they've really been moving along thanks to the help of all these private donors that must really believe in their cause, which of coarse is to develop new "greener" technology to help the environment and cut down on pollution.

We have a spokesperson for the organization here with us now how are you?"

"Good and thank you, I'm really honored to be part of this amazing organization and to see such a great turn out of donors for such a good cause.  It's been amazing with over 37 million dollars donated by private, anonymous donors over the last three months, it's amazing..."

About half the city watched that news broadcast stream into their homes on their television sets.



It was about 2am when the superhero came out of his meditative state in the park.  

He got up energized and flew around.

He saw some guy trying to steal some lady's purse, he zipped down and stood right behind the guy without him even noticing.

The guy got the purse turned around and ran right into him and knocked himself down.

"What do you think you're doing?" the superhero said authoritarily.  Then he lunged in grabbed the guy by the shirt at the scruff of the chest.  With his other hand he picked up the lady's purse, handed it to her, and told her to go home and get out of the dangerous night city streets.  Then he flew the criminal to the police station, told them what he had witnessed, and took off.

Suddenly he heard police sirens all over the city they seemed to be closing in on a specific area, the superhero flew to that area to see what was going on.

He found a police sergeant standing next to a cop car, and stopped to ask him what's going on.

"A masked lunatic just killed 19 people and is now trying to escape in a small silver car, we've got every available unit trying to hunt him down."

He wasted no time, taking up in the air leaving a wind in his wake, the superhero started quickly combing the city for a small silver car driving conspicuously.  He found one, and when he flew over it to check it out, all of a sudden he had gunshots being fired at him from inside the car.

"This must be it," he charged the car with full speed but the driver sped up to keep ahead of him.

This isn't going to work, he thought, I should make them think they lost me and follow them secretly and see where they go.

The next time a gunshot was fired the superhero grabbed his chest and purposefully fell down, to make them think he had been shot.  Once their guard was down he followed them in secret.

They drove outside of the city thinking they had lost all tails, down a couple winding roads, then climbed Zenchō hill toward the Tomerarenai purotto corporation's construction spot, then went inside.  

The superhero landed outside the building and contemplated his next plan.  He noticed an open window to an office on the second floor, he carefully peered through the window and saw no one in the office, he flew in and landed on the floor careful not to make a sound above a mouse squeak.  He quietly crept through the empty hallways until he reached the staircase, when he heard voices whispering downstairs, "He's gonna be here any minute/ get everything ready."  

The hero thought he had no time to lose, he took to the air, bolted down stairs and with a loud dramatic voice yelled "Halt!"

"He's here!" they yelled as one of them ran toward a giant device that looked like a satellite dish, and the other one ran and pulled a rope, dropping piles and piles of smoldering coal around the superhero that immediately made him so sick he could barely move.  industrial type smoke was his weakness.  

"We've been planning for you to come here," the guy in the mask said firing up the satellite dish looking weapon and pointing it at him.  

"W-What do you want?" the superhero asked weakened, frail, and short of breath on his hands and knees on the floor.

"To **** you so you won't stand in our way"

The superhero was growing weaker, and weaker, as the giant atomic laser pointed at him started glowing red, I told you this story was called "death of a superhero".

"Death, of a superhero?"  the superhero grunted, "DEATH, of a SUPERHERO!?!" he shouted again, "YOU'VE BEEN ORCHESTRATING MY DEATH!" The superhero yelled at the narrator.  

Yes I have, the narrator said all the people in the room could hear me, I've been planning your death since before you went after that getaway vehicle, I have such omnipotent like power over your world, I'm the reason the taser gave the one's working for these two time to escape, I'm the reason you never checked this place out until everything was ready, and now I get to watch these two **** you, and laugh, knowing that you'll never find me and there's nothing you can do to change events.

Now, the beam was fully charged

"No!" the superhero thought, "up till this point, I thought I had to go along with everything the narrator said, but no!"  He started to slowly manage to get up.

The masked killer hit the button, fired the laser, and killed the superhero instantly.

Wait what?

"You think you can just **** me by saying so," the superhero grunted out louder slowly rising to his feet.  Mentally forcing his body to work even in the presence of his weakness, in reality, contrary to what the narrator said, the beam was still charging.  

"No!" the superhero continued, getting stronger and healthier, "THERE WILL BE NO DEATH OF A SUPER HERO!!!" suddenly the superhero's personal energy was strong enough to clear a bubble around him of fresh air pushing the smoke around it.  He flew through the air at bullet speed and punched the masked killer across the room and out of consciousness.  Then he went for the assistant who was running to the door, in the heat of the moment, the superhero, hitting him up from behind, punched a hole straight through his skull and he fell to the ground head-gored-dead.  The superhero deactivated the laser. and stood and looked around to try and find that supervillian mastermind, the narrator.  

"You will never find me," the narrator said, "I exist in an inexcusable part of your reality."

Then another voice broke through, "I will open up a portal to the narrator for you" the author said, "be wary though, even in his own part of this dimension, he is very frippery and slick, you must not let him break free into you're general reality, lest he end your world."

Suddenly a glowing golden sword appeared in a light before the superhero, he took it and bowed, understanding what he was to do.

A shimmering white and grey portal swirled out of thin air.  He looked at it for a second as it grew outwards until it was big enough for him to walk through.  He slowly marched into it, guard heightened as he did not know what to expect, carrying the glowing golden sword behind his back.

Inside the portal was a large white room where the narrator lived.  there was a large white shelf, four walls and a ceiling, the portal remained open.  

He looked around but didn't see the narrator at first, when he realized the narrator had filled half the room with a thick white fog to mask himself.

"Show yourself you coward!" the hero yelled.  Sudddenly a large fist came out of the fog and punched the superhero right in the face, he stumbled back a few steps, but didn't let it knock him over.  Suddenly a humanoid figure stepped out of the fog, it had a body like a man but a head like a king cobra.

"S--sssss--o" it said, "you found a way to find me," "Hisssssssssssss..."

"I found you and I will destroy you to free my world from your evil," the superhero said.

"Is-s that sssssssssso" the beast said.  "And how do you plan to do that? Hisssssssss".

Then the narrator's eyes widened when he say the glowing gold sword behind his back.

"I will cover myself in armor that that sword can't pierce." He said.

"And an armor appeared around the narrator, except it only appeared to cover his head, and his face was still bare." The narrator said and it happened.

The superhero lunged at the narrator with the sword but the narrator slipped to the right and shot ***** of fire at the superhero, but the superhero dodged.

"And his hand got shaky and it greatly effected his aim," the narrator hissed out.

The superhero swung at the narrator, but missed everytime.

"I've got to steady my aim" the superhero thought to himself, putting most of his energy into his arm to hold it steady.  The narrator backed away from him, hissing and darting back and forth as if antagonizing him, perhaps trying to distract him and his focus.

Suddenly he felt a surge of energy push back from the sword, flow up his arm and flood his body, the sword glowed brighter and he was in control of himself again.

He went after the narrator full force, swinging and jabbing the sword, but the narrator dodged every attack.

"You'll never defeat me!" the narrator hissed.

But while he said that he lost focus, and the superhero swung the sword right into the side of the human part of the body, so deep it hit something metal and stopped.  

"Then he dropped the sword," the narrator said quickly and it happened.  The superhero's hand snapped wide open before his willpower could stop it, and the sword dropped to the ground with a "shink".

Acting super fast, the narrator dropped to the ground and picked up the sword with his teeth, and slithered out of his fake, damaged human body into his true form, a giant king cobra looking snake, covered in a heavy metal armor that was scaly and didn't restrict his movements.  Quickly, he slithered  over to the portal, but the superhero grabbed his lower armor before he got a chance to escape into the hero's world, and used his body to anchor the snake to that spot.

The narrator swung and slithered his body to try to free himself from the hero's hold but he was holding on to well, and the serpent could not escape.  

The hero did not know what to do, he needed to get the sword back and slay the serpent, but he had to keep both hands on him to keep him from getting free.

He had an idea, he used his legs to help anchor the serpent, and climbed him to get to his head to retrieve the sword.  Slowly he worked his way up the snake as he slithered and struggled to get free.  When it seemed inevitable that the hero was gonna get the sword back, the serpent spit it out and it landed next to the door.  Then he shot fireballs out of his mouth at point blank range at the superhero which distracted him enough for him to loose his grasp, and let the serpent break free.  The serpent quickly slithered over to the portal, hissed "goodbye sucker", mouthed the sword once again, and slithered out the portal.

The superhero jumped up and flew after the serpent, and crash landed onto of him on the other side of the now closing portal.  

"The masked murderer woke up and came over to help the narrator," the serpent hissed out.

Suddenly the masked murderer came over and the hero was trying to get him on his side to break the stalemate.

As the snake and the superhero wrestled, the superhero called out to the masked murderer, "Don't help him, if he escapes me now, he'll destroy the world!"

"Don't listen to your enemy," the narrator hissed out, "**** him!"

"Don't listen to him," the superhero tried to reason with him, "he's just manipulating you, everybody, he's the reason you wanted to **** me and do this whole project in the first place, YOU ultimately have free will! and we need to **** him."

The narrator strikes and bit the superhero's arm for telling the masked killer he had free will.  

"What do you need!" the masked ****** shouted when he got over there.  

"**** him" the serpent hissed out!

"The sword!" the hero shouted.

The masked murderer, not knowing what to do, picked up the sword and handed it to the hero.

The superhero used it to pry off a piece of the serpent's armor, poised it into position and struck down.  The narrator shifted his body however so the sword narrowly missed, and curved his tail so the open spot in the armor was underneath him, "Grab him!" the superhero said, hold him steady so I can get a good shot."

The Masked murderer did just that, and the hero drove the sword through the opening and impaled the narrator right there, and actually cut him in two.

"But then the narrator's body sealed at the womb and he slithered free" the serpent said and it happened, and he slithered at full speed toward the same door the masked murderer's assistant tried to escape through, and he was making distance.

"And then a layer of cement formed around the superhero's ankle so he couldn't chase the narrator." and a piece of cement attached to the floor formed around his ankle.

But the superhero made quick work of that, a **** of the leg and it reduced to crumbles and he got up and chased the serpent.

The serpent got outside the door and mumbled something, suddenly the door was a pure steel wall.  Three punches by the superhero weakened the steel and severely dented it, the forth punch and it went flying off and the superhero ran outside and saw the narrator escaping into the brush.  He knew what he had to do, he lunged at him and grabbed him just by the head, and ****** the sword through a hail of fireballs straight into it's mouth, the narrator couldn't speak to reverse that action and he died shortly after.
This is not a poem
Nadia May 2019
The Bride Test by Helen Hoang

If tomorrow is a big day with many things to do, here is your warning:
Read this book before bed and you’ll be reading it well into the morning

Esme, or My, is kind and clever, endlessly loyal and terrible at deceit
Khai is a complicated genius, steadfast and achingly, unknowingly sweet

Esme is determined to find a better life for the family she temporarily left behind
Khai is earning future freedom from set ups his mom can’t help but mastermind

A few scenes might make you blush - brilliant and perfect for this story
Bring lots of tissues, no reading on transit - this book is an absolute glory
I never remember to review books before all of the details are long forgotten (sadly it does not take long) so I'm making an effort. Bonus, it's more fun to review with a poem
Pyrrha Jul 2018
Crawling through my brain till it has made channels connecting to tunnels like little circuits replacing my nerves, the little worm I call Loneliness wriggles onward.

A constant motion of forward goes that worm, bringing with it a never ending feeling of monachopsis.
Day after day it dwells in my mind as the worm carries on.

It adapts and evolves finding a solution to every mastermind plot I find from removing this creature, this beast, this worm from my mind.

“Friendship is betrayal, they all leave and deceive in the end,” it whispers through my head as if another conscience inside my being.

I fear the worms words and obey every command. Dare I disobey what dismay would come my way?

“Happiness is a lie along with perfection, never trace your hands along such deadly lines, the lines of which a mortal mind should never tread,” he says using my beliefs against me. “Happiness is for those who belong, not for you, never for you!”

The worm screams those words through my mind anytime I laugh or smile reminding me not to be so daft.

Oh beautiful, wonderful,brilliant demon of mine.
Keeping me from trying to find ways to end the suffering in my life

Morbid torment in the back of my mind,
Keeping me from trying to find ways to silence the loneliness screaming within, bringing me further into the dark.

What would I do without you, dear Loneliness?
You cloud my mind and free me from my foolish desires.

Why should I not be alone?
If I was meant to feel together,
Then together surely I would feel.

Why should I feel happiness when happiness isn’t mine?
How selfish I would be without you holy creature,
Beautiful blessed worm of wonder.
Monachopsis- A subtle yet persistent feeling of not belonging
This is one of the first poems I wrote this year, it's what reminded me of why I love poetry. It provides a place to hold my thoughts.
Option to watch Game of Thrones :



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The Game of Thrones Season 5 premiere is this Sunday, April 12th, and that means you need to scramble to find a way to watch a live HBO stream online. But among the sea of illegal ways you’ll find to watch Game of Thrones online, you’ll get spyware, viruses and very low quality streams. And, there is the fact that it IS illegal. However, there are a couple of legal ways to watch an HBO stream online on your TV, PC, Tablet or smartphone that were announced earlier this year and will be available by Sunday’s Game of Thrones premiere.
The easiest way to watch Sunday night’s Game of Thrones Season 5 Premiere via live stream is on this year’s newly announced ScreenVariety which just added the Live HBO channel to its lineup of add-on channels. For $15/month, users can add HBO to their ScreenVariety package so that they’ll be able to watch Game of Thrones Season 5. ScreenVariety works on virtually any streaming device you own, including Roku players, Xbox One, your smartphones and tablets. The best part about ScreenVariety is that you don’t need a contract to use it, and can cancel the HBO package after the Season 5 finale if you’d like to. But, the big negative of ScreenVariety is that only one device can stream at one time, and you can’t access ScreenVariety through your PS3 or any other device not listed. There is a seven day free trial available for ScreenVariety, although you can’t add packages to the core package with the trial.
So if you’re a fellow cordcutter like myself, here are a few 100% legal ways to watch Game of Thrones via a live HBO stream online:

w w w . g a m e o f t h r o n e s . s c r e e n v a r i e t y . c o m




It's been a long, cold winter as we've waited for the real winter to come...Game of Thrones' winter, that is! It's been one full year since we've journeyed to the land of Westeros for new episodes of HBO'***** fantasy drama and now, our wait is finally over, as season five premieres this Sunday.
This is the season we've all been waiting for, book enthusiasts and non-book readers alike, as the show has caught up to where George R. R. Martin's novels have stopped, and it's become a fact that this season is going to feature stories that haven't been in the books...yet. No one truly knows what's going to happen (besides Martin and the showrunners, of course), so for the first time since this show premiered, we're all in this together!
The mastermind behind all of Game of Thrones, Martin, promises that there are going to be some major surprises for book readers...including the fates of some characters who everyone thinks are safe.
"Yes, there will be [surprises]," Martin tells E! News. "[Executive producers] David [Benioff] and Dan [D. B. Weiss] are bloodier than I am so no one is safe here. Even characters who are still alive in the books will die in the series. What can you do? Hold on to your seats and hope it's not your favorite character who winds up beheaded or disemboweled or poisoned."
Poetry by MAN Feb 2014
My Darkness is what makes me
I embrace let it taste me
Down to the abyss
Death my favorite wish
Naturally a killer
Life is just a filler
I hold the cards what should I deal you
So dark feel me wicked
See a knife I want to twist it
Sadist or ******* either way I am gifted
You will never see me
You can even be me
My Darkness seeps into the scenery
Serial killer nah I'm much ill-er
My Darkness is primal I am a sealer of fate  
Death Note set the date
Allow me to demonstrate
Villain mastermind
What I am can't be defined
Dark so lovely go ahead try mug me
Eyes behold what's beautiful is ugly
Call me a sinner I'm not a beginner
We can play a game there is no winner
So let My Darkness take you
Devour remake you
Heaven will never miss
The devil in my kiss...♏
2-5-14
Ahmad Cox Mar 2013
There is a master mind
A hidden intelligence
Behind everything and
Whether we perceive or
Not this spirit or entity is
Here for us to learn and to
Grow and to learn the ways
Of the master if we are able
To learn the masters way in
Life even though it is never
Easy it is always worth it in
The end and it is why we
Continue to struggle and
To learn and to grow and
To do it all over again as
We learn a little more
About ourselves and how
To truly live free with love
And complete openness and
Connection with everything
And everyone that you meet
And understanding that life
Is a lot less complicated than
We make it out to be and we
Can live without fear or hate
Or even anger in our hearts
And we can be truly free and
Full of joy and love if we follow
The master the master will show
Us the way to the master's heart
And promise for a better tomorrow
And a better way to live today right
Now and for eternity as you learn
Your final lesson and depart again
To return to learn the lesson all over
Martin Narrod May 2014
It's like this, and then there was total recall. Fast like a safety plan made wrong and then bouncing in and out all the way down the hall. Up through cable cars, Korean fast food market, wet fish, soupy street, concrete cracks filled with crab meat and **** heads. Just a square, a five block, two street, sideways quadrangle, beat of the Tenderloin, hour of the dove. Every one's dead on these loose ends. Hills of the back of her backside, skin of the back of her neck. Rapture is the grave of the sunset, memory is that thing that I said.

No one cans in carnivores, no one runs moves like a shepherd. Sunday, daft as candy, luck in the ways of the prophet. Canon of the blaze of every woman that died today. The sleep setting, the motorcycle bending the hollow, the ravines noisy interlude, up through the rough and the tangles, huddles in a six pack, three or four walking up the block to meet the rest of them.

The skin doesn't fit right, it wears wrong, the shoulders stiff, the masseuse excuses himself. Buckets of flowers hang from the ceiling like stripped cat christmas decorations in suburban mastermind serial killer resort town. Everyone is quiet because they gotta. They move their feet like they were hurrying death into a red volcano, like they were the errand of red from the top bell to the bottom of the town.

I sit on a roof top, baking in the noon day sun. Stripping sticks and stems off the side to sideways, just roasting away, laying, low in the afternoon light. I see a girl with her hands on her skirt, wobbling, scooting a priest card on a periwinkle terra-cotta.  I move my head, turn it upside round to take a better look. No one counts to ten when they see me. The gangster that woke up isn't the gangster that went to sleep last night. My wickedness ended my words mean your bright decay. So I ride the pavement exhausted, burying my coughs in an L-shaped arm
Your seduction has been unfair,
Though you could not help it, my dear.
My heart melts with the thoughts you share
And aloe smoothness of your hair.

Executed so ruthlessly,
You constantly seducing me,
With love given innocently,
You did it all so carelessly.

I’m smitten and I can’t let go,
Seduced by all the things you know,
You made my desire overflow,
Just by affection that you show.

I’m a slave to your seduction,
Mastermind of will’s abduction,
From our very introduction,
I was lost to your seduction.
Instagram @insightshurt
www.insightshurt.com
Buy “Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life” at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
Brandon Amberger Apr 2016
Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder
You may now want to take out the recorder
This world may label it as a weakness
But I’m quite fond that it gives me a type of uniqueness
Although my mind bounces around
Like a bouncy ball all over town
It sometimes allows me to be still
When I find something that gives me a thrill
Instead of giving me that medication
Allow my mind to experience that sensation
Of it’s ability to go full throttle top gear
It may seem irrational and unclear
But trust me the task assigned
Will be completed from a mastermind
Anthony Moore Jun 2010
For so, so, very long...
You have loved me...
And I have loved you...
When I think all is wrong...
And all is blue...
Then I see you...
And all is well...
And I am strong...
Now you know...
And now you can tell...
How much I love you...
Now I can let it show...
And now my burden is lifted...
And my heart has shifted...
Now I feel no hatred...
But only love...
I still don't like her...
But now I can stand her...
And It's still you and not her...
But atleast you now know...
The size of the love I hold...
The love untold...
The love begining to unfold...
And unwrap between us...
As she sits in a fuss...
And I give you a kiss...
Then I crack a devious grin...
While I think of this...
Dream of us together again...
Anthony J. Alexander 2005
karen dannette Jan 2013
PATIENCE ISNT MY STRONG POINT
SELFISHNESS ABOLISHES MY KINDNESS
AS I STARE IN THE MIRROR
THE MORE I SEE, MY CHARACTER APPEARS LESS.

THE FOUNDATION OF MY RECOVERY
IS SUPPOSED TO BE BUILT ON EVEN LAND
MY FLAWED, IMPERFECTIONS SPEAK VOLUMES
IN A DROWNING POOL OF SELF-MADE QUICKSAND

DARLING, MY DEAR, FORSAKE ME NOT
AS I PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE TO THIS FLAG OF LIES
I PRAY TO GOD THAT HE STILL LIVES WITHIN ME
ALTHOUGH, DOUBT IS IMMINENT, FOR IT ISN'T GOD WHO I DESPISE.

SLUMBERING INTO A PEACEFUL ETERNAL SLEEP
I REMAIN UNCHANGED AND WEEP EVER MORE
MY FAITH IS STRONG AND I'M WILLING TO FIGHT
CAN'T HELP WONDER WHAT MY FUTURE HAS IN STORE.

MY ANXIETY HAS MET ITS MATCH
MY HEART WILL BEAT NO MORE
MY LIFE IS COMING TO AN END
PLEASE TELL ME WHAT I'M WAITING FOR
Gourab Banerjee Sep 2016
My mind
Is a crazy canvas
So many shades here!
Appears,disappears simultaneously
But,there's a shade which's constant
As the Sun shines behind the cloud
My creative thoughts're bubbling restlessly
Not only in my conscious mind but also on its unconscious counterpart
I'm always tend towards innovative
And,the big-bang fact is I rule my mind
And,so that I'm a Mastermind-Written on 28.09.2012
Poetry by MAN Sep 2015
Kiss you low..Here I go
Communicate soul to soul
Touch is magic watch me grow
Lick for lick blow for blow
Open up to this kiss
Introduction to poetic bliss
I'm a G...I won't miss
Mark it off your bucket list
M.A.N not a boy
Ignorance I will destroy
Mastermind what's the ploy?
Sauce you up just like soy
Eat you up munch you down
Parade you pretty around town
Wicked doesn't need a crown
Whimper when I eat you bound
Rub you wet...Rub you wet..like a wish I'm gonna get
Oh so wet..Oh so wet..love it when you ready set
Enter thighs feel my rise
Stroke..Choke..steady and wise
Get that prize..Get that prize..No words needed can read your eyes
Hold it...ugh..hold it some more...on the bed then to the floor
Against the wall..through backdoor..on a sacred tantric tour
Feel me guide..as you ride..inside feel me slip and slide
Hit it wide..technique applied..what is needed I shall provide
Feel the quake..legs will shake..more than love we will make
What awakes? From pounding stake..squirting till no more can take
Still we go..beyond the soul..where no one ever goes
Yoni flower blooms like rose..Gyrate till your nectar flows
Taste is sweet..flavor unique..savor moment we reach our peak
What is complete? No need to speak..find what you sought to seek
Next level we begin to glow..Shine like stars put on a show
**** ****** this Scorpio...with poetry I Kiss You Low...
Poetry by M.A.N 9-3-15 I wrote this for my **** Scorpio blog ..****** seems to flow from me I specialize in sexetry...♏️
Nyx Dec 2018
Stubborn little prince
With his pride so high
I'm really not okay
With the fact that you lied

Lying through your teeth
Taking it to your grave
Thinking your the mastermind
Just shut up and behave

Enough with the act
Double edged sword
Two faces are far too many
Don't do it cause your bored

That's no excuse

Your wax wings are melting
Due to all the things you've done
I'm friends with an icarus it seems
He's flown to close to the sun

You're falling again

Failing to see what's happening
Ignoring all warnings
He'll fall down very soon
He won't see the next morning

I won't be there to catch you

Go on keep talking
As you think your quite sly
You are beginning to **** me off
You should know exactly why

Your words don't match up
Nor do your actions it seems
What is your game?
Do tell me by all means

Though I don't think it'll matter
As my minds set in stone
Continue playing your game
Wouldn't want your motives to be shown

Don't fly too high
Stubborn little prince



-
Caitlin Skye Sep 2013
Endless entrances and various pathways--
Designated to just one thought.
One thought that is so entirely intricate and complex,
That not even you can understand the convoluted nature of your mind.
The brain is just so wonderfully interesting! Don't you think?
POETRY AND ITS IMPACT ON HUMANITY

Today the word poetry evokes images of love and sentimentality, but the term romanticism has a much wider meaning. It covers a choice of developments in art, literature, music, dance and philosophy, spanning the late 20 th and early 21 st centuries.

The romantics would not have used the term themselves and the label was applied retrospectively, from around the middle of the 20 th century. Man was born free in this virtual environment of real life but, everywhere he is in chains. During the romantic period major transitions took place in culture, as dissatisfied intellectuals and artists challenged the establishment.

Almost all the romantic poets were at the very heart of this movement. They were inspired by a desire for liberty, and they denounced the misuse of the poor.There was a highlight on the significance of the individual; a conviction that people should follow ideals rather than imposed conventions and rules. The romantics renounced the rationalism and order linked with the preceding clarification era, stressing the importance of expressing authentic personal feelings.

They had a real sense of responsibility to their fellow men: they felt it was their duty to use their poetry to inform and inspire others, and to change the humanity and their social attitude. Poet Rumpa Ray Ghosh believe in this theory on life and poetry of this time.

A PASSIONATE POET OF THIS TIME

For Poet Rumpa Ghosh, even a quatrain is what in a verse, which makes someone to cry or to laugh, or just be silent, makes your twinkle, makes you want to do this or that or nothing, makes you know that you are alone in the unknown world, that your bliss and suffering is forever shared and forever all your own.
Poetry is taking at the heartstrings, and making music within our solitude in life. Rumpa Ray Ghosh is a poet of profound obsession towards composing lyrical form of poetry. Her poetic enthusiasm makes her verses, extremely impressive and highly alluring. She is fast budding poetess of wisdom and emotional response. She had completed her Masters degree from University of Calcutta, though she is from Calcutta currently living in Mumbai.She started composing poems since her young age.

Intentionally or innocently, many of the poets are most often trying to fill a vast space with things that cannot satisfy fully. We look forward to fill the void with our own possessions for comfort, but unfortunately we normally end up wanting more and more. We try to fill it with relationships or pleasures, but we end up feeling even more empty and further more depressed than from the point where and when we commenced the discontentment as these thoughts were well presented by Rumpa Ray Ghosh in her poems, namely, “ The Roof”, “ The broken house “.
The only place that we can really find true fulfilment and gratification is in the hands of divine God. We need to recall and allow our convictions, not in circumstances, to govern our sense of contentment. The anthology freshly illuminates many excellent lyrics and short poems and are highly valued regardless of its freestyle genre.
For both the poet’s, self-consciousness is connected to the new eminence established to poetry by the feelings of the self, which truly resembles the title of the anthology, “ The Musical Marvels of Self “. Her poems are lyrical, close to heart, soft and romantic. The scrupulous flow in her rhyme magnetizes the readers. Her works were widely published in many national and international journals. She is a regular blogger. She takes the images of her writing from simple every day incidents, uses metaphors and imagery to add grace in her skill of presentation.
Her language is simple, easily understood by lay man, quite touching and heart rendering. Her first book " Musical Marvels of Self ", an anthology of 43 poems came out through Zorba publishers.

The anthology was a combined effort in association with honourable poet Dr Ujjwala Kakarala during September 2017 Besides, being a talented poetess of lyrics, she was an excellent singer Proficient in Bengali folksongs, Rabindra Sangeet and Nazrulgeeti and ghazals and has sung in numerous local stage shows. Rabindra Sangeet merge gracefully into Tagore's literature, most of which—poems or parts of single scene plays alike—were beautifully transformed or converted to lyrical formats. Influenced by the “ Thumri “ style of classical vocal music, this has made the entire scope of human emotion, ranging from his early songs-like Brahma devotional hymns to human soul.
This has emulated the tonal color of classical “ragas “to varying extents.
Earlier, She had also the chance to attain a position as Quarter-finalist in BBC Mastermind Family Quiz competition aired on Disney Channel.Poet Rumpa Ray Ghosh, an Indian by nationality, she hails from West Bengal, the “ City of Joy “, but currently living in Mumbai, Maharashtra, India. She is by occupation a teacher, content writer and a blogger. By obsession she is a poetess and a singer. She has completed her post-graduation and B.Ed. from the University of Calcutta. She has worked as a teacher in St. Thomas School, Mumbai, as a content-writer for ‘Pratham’ (NGO) and as an English curriculum developer in Vibgyor High School in Mumbai.
She publishes her writings on her own blog with a name ( fragmentofimagination). She is also a writer for some literary groups. Some of her poems have been published in national anthologies. Recently one of her poems has been published in a US e-magazine "Beyond Borders” in a popular poetry site. She has also participated in an open-mic poetry reciting performance in the Prithvi theater arena in Mumbai. Being Proficient in classical vocal music, she had the opportunity to perform in classical vocal music on various musical events. She is a Sangeet Visharad from Bhatkhande Sangit Vidyapith, Lucknow and is trained under Late Pandit Vinayak Vohra. More tha a Poetess having a deep passion in writing, she enjoys dance, music and teaching his students as part of her professional skills. Stay blessed in all ways at all times.

WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
palladia Dec 2013
i cannot face a day without acknowledging a loss.
i cannot fathom such a wilderness grew so close to my place,
my society-free, impositionless place
a tepid forest inhabited
by the requiems of the agnostically murdered
and the cogged wheels of the deceased's clocks.
sometimes they stick and the clockmaster unsticks them,
but they stop up again ever so quickly.
there is nobody who has the time or effort to continually watch the clocks.
and they return to ticking an eldritch song
which may cause pain.
it has not abolished mine, nor shall forth be disseminated to do so.
i am an ascetic mastermind, abiding in my messy pool
of thought, without my womb, without my brood, without my broom
to tidy the mishmash of unruly cobwebs and such.
the fumes cause me to wonder “where is my world,
which i’ve fondled so dearly?”
i detox and recycle memories, it’s to no worth of you
a venomous whisper on a silver lining of a dream tells you everything:
a fanatic’s agenda degrading urbane,
a plummeting depth to deep impact,
i drift away on a molten lava lilypad, and fantasize that...
i am god
but i haven’t found time to juggle your sect
reissuing lessons to mind the sheriff
and i cannot bear to lead me, to my own cultural death.
i cannot receive your moral disease, a signal on my knees
con e preghiere sbiancante. can’t you understand it?
my life is spent with hope placed
on each pair of snake eyes i roll
chance is the meter for everything.
dare i dare go back to my fantasizing,
i am god
ashamed by the lack of hope, and regret
disgraced by the hate and intolerance of man
and i see now their perfect world, is everything i detest.
and the tears produced
form new embryos of emotions
crystalline structures of psychological proportions
which develop into mature,
sentient, and emotion-proof organisms.
which become i.
and i respond vehemently yet come to my senses in a diplomatic tone,
because i am a diplomat.
and i have learned to nail my destiny to an altar each night,
an altar which can sacrifice my pensive motives
and my self-incriminating philosophy
that i should be able to write my destiny, and not
have it planned and read aloud,
read out loud, out in the air, outside.
i try myself.
i tempt myself.
and i return to supplicated suffering about my own mortality
and the atoms i will never see
and the universe i will never span
and the people i will never meet
and the times i will never live.
what if i rivered thirty silver-coins:
◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌
◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌
◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌
what if i
didn’t
?
i might be ****** for this: but i’ll still set fire to the catacombs.
i might be scourged for this: but i’ll still hold on,
hoping there’s skin on my bones.
ecclesia, – a common, a sanctuary, a vanguard from the darkness in the world.
i know what i should do but never ever get it done;
i know what i have been and what i will become.
not defined by a dimension nor reputed by a benchmark
but shaded by the passion and dissuaded by the lashes.
i’ll do anything you want me to,
if you **** the self-inflicted psalms i plead!
the ulcer grows
that sweet cologne
i ***** it into the unknown.
i won’t tax your soul, i won’t stick a price to it:
coins ◌◌◌◌◌ won’t fill the hole -in a business deal (assets corrode)
i won’t tax your soul (i won’t buy it with blood money ◌◌◌◌◌, no)
it’s yours alone (but in business deals,
deficit is prone)
and there’s an aspect {a static} of forever and the inescapable gap
between the conscious
and the desired.
i sit here, ever so comfy and lustrous,
and habitually wait the day
they merge.
my invitations stand clear.
if you cannot come, i’ll wait for you. hidden
in the grillework of my past. but if you cannot come,
i’ll be waiting. hidden in the warmth of our teepee haus,
i’ll wait for you.

if X Marx the spot then why Kant i Locke it up?
*could living hand-to-mouth so long make me so Jung?
There’s a complex relationship with the earth, Pleroma, God, and mortality. And none of it can be solved. We live in such a saddened state today.
kirk Nov 2017
The television is getting worse, I have noticed on its viewing
What the **** is going on, what do you think your doing ?
Maybe its ungrateful, but our minds are just left stewing
Why must people endure repeats, through years of program queuing?
An example is the game shows, there on every side just brewing
We're paying for the privilege, its the public that your *******

We don't want Deal Or No Deal, with all those crap crisp boxes
Q.I. is not that interesting, it has too many paradoxes
Who Wants To Be A Millionaire ? is that just a stupid question?
I would love to Strike It Lucky, so what is your suggestion?

Pointless has the correct name, cos that's exactly what it is
Has Jasper Carrot got Golden *****, or is he *******
Why is there ***** Money, did they ran out of toilet tissues
Julian Clary had Sticky Moments, and outrageous camping issues

Whenever Opportunity Knocks, well just open the door
If your going to Take Me Out, then what are you waiting for?
Don't Name That Tune In One, I'd rather hear it all
A Question Of Sport is so boring, its hardly on the ball

Is it the Weakest Link, because the chain is full of rust?
Didn't Blockbusters close down, and the video shop go bust ?
Why Should I Supermarket Sweep, Dale can sweep it himself
The pyramid Game is just, an apex polyhedron triangular shelf

I Don't want to go on Mastermind, and look like a ******* fool
If I went Through The Keyhole, then I must be minuscule
Why Would I Lie To You? wouldn't that be a bit two faced
I'm not sure if Celebrity Squares, are really all straight laced?
Could you please repeat yourself, I did not Catch that Phrase
Just how many crystals where there, in the Crystal Maze?

Was Spin Star cancelled, because celebrities where break dancing
Or was it Bradley Walsh's giant fruit, that needed some enhancing?
Why is it called The Chase, when there's no chasing involved?
The Chasers are sat on there arses, so The Chase is never solved

I don't think it is the Wheel Of Fortune, even if you do
You don't really get much fortune, till you solve the final clue
Paul Daniels said Every Second Counts, so forget the introductions
Just get on with the game play, don't even bother with instructions

Philip Schofield played with Five Gold Rings, isn't that just wrong
I thought that Five Gold Rings, belonged to a Christmas song
Ted Rogers read such stupid clues, it made it hard to win
No wonder 3.2.1 contestants, usually won poor Dusty Bin

I would really love to drink, some of that Celebrity Juice
But first I'll have to find out, which ones are tight or loose
I'm not lucky enough to have 300 Blanks, with a lovely lady in a bed
I'll have to hand it to myself, and have a Blankety Blank instead

Mr & Mrs is outdated, most Marriages are not enforced
Those couples who where happy once, are probably divorced
Treasure Hunt used a Helicopter, clues found by Anneka Rice
She ran around quite frantically, but her **** was rather nice

Isn't Ann Widdecombe a dark horse, she liked a Cleverdick
I Suspect if she had the chance, she'd like a **** that's thick
There used to be Telly Addicts, but now they are history
We no longer want Noel Edmunds, or crap games on our TV

Poor Bully tried to play Darts, but his aim was far to high
It isn't all that great or Super, missing the Bullseye
Come on now Jim its not fare, making the contestants cry
To look at what you could have won, and kiss the prize goodbye

Naked Jungle was a one off, Keith Chegwin in the buff
I'm glad it did not continue, so please don't Call My Bluff
Countdown has been on for years, we've had a ****** enough
Only Connect and 15 to 1, are hard and far too tough

Family fortunes and Eggheads, we don't want all this stuff
Fort Boyard and Mock The Week, stick them up you chuff
Going For Gold and Gladiators, too old and looking rough
University Challenge and Impossible, there really dull and duff

Never Mind The Buzzcocks, it's a forgotten piece of Fluff
Crosswits and Chain Letters, should be dragged of by the scuff
Hole in the wall and Alphabetical, are so right of the cuff
The Cube and The Million Pound Drop, I'd walk of in a huff

Many game shows throughout the years, all needed a good host
But there isn't any spontaneity, so none of them can boast
Instead of reading from a script,and acting liked their dosed
Take the plunge make it your own, don't be a mindless ghost
Why don't hosts try to be their best, and try to be their most
Wouldn't it make more sense, to keep your audience engrossed

Ben Shepherd comes to mind, he doesn't seem all there
With his ****** expressions, weird smile and stupid stare
How did he become a host, was it all based on a dare
Why is his act robotic, its more than we can bare

Its like watching a recording, this isn't really fare
If we are subjected to this crap, then we deserve a share
I guess its our misfortune, its enough to make you swear
We're already at our Tipping Point, so we no longer care

Now I'm not saying that every host, is as bad as old Ben Shep
In fact there is at least one guy,who has a better Rep
He may not be a large man, in fact he played a Lep
But at least he isn't wooden, and he's with you every step

Warwick Davis's Act is Tenable, and he has not compromised
With good hosting skills, jokes and quips Warwick has realized
Although I'm not a game show fan, I am pleasantly surprised
He stands tall over the other hosts, even though he is pintsized

Why keep making game shows, was there a voting pole?
I believe there are too many, they are so ******* droll
As bad as all reality, the schedules they both stole
Axe the ******* lot of them, and chuck them down a hole

Just take a look at Brucie, may god rest his soul
He was around for decades, and hosting was role
Taking over all the shows, seemed to be old Brucie's goal
The years weren't kind to old Bruce, they definitely took there toll

There is a Brucie Bonus, available for every Generation
All you really needed, was the right kind of motivation
Nice to see you to see you nice, was Bruce's obligation
Life was the name of the game, in a family situation

A cuddly toy on a conveyer belt, in a prize observation
Didn't he do well all, depends on your own determination
If You Play Your Cards Right, Dollies Dealing a sensation
You don't get anything for a pair, maybe its infatuation

You can freeze but you cant stick, all dealt in isolation
Do you want to bet on it, was a gambling invitation
The price was always right, just use your imagination
Come on down to old Bruce, win a car and a vacation

Maybe he's a legend, with Bruce's game show graduation
A chance to host a new show, a Good Game realization
What's on the board miss ford, moving on to a new creation
It turned camp when they shut that door, and hired Larry Grayson

What was it with Bruce Forsyth, he was far too keen
He monopolised the hosting, on the game show scene
Seizing every opportunity, ever since he was fourteen
Just like Command and Conqueror, on the TV screen
He took on all the game shows, maybe he's just mean
But I cant help but to wander, where else has he been?

With all of his catchphrases, and a chin that was obscene
A wig that was like shredded wheat, it never should be seen
I don't know if I'm being harsh, it maybe his routine
And its all in his makeup, and part of Bruce's gene
Perhaps he liked the studio, and had too much caffeine
Along with the all dodgy food, in the BBC canteen

Now Challenge screens the game shows, but there all so ******* old
We've already seen all these games, they've already all been sold
I do not mean to sound too flippant, but why wont you be told
Your sending your viewers up the wall, and your audiences cold
Now let me state what's obvious, I hope I am not too bold
We don't want all these rehashed games, there hardly TV gold
Tom Shields Oct 2020
Where do you go to when you are caught?
The Sandmen will pursue in your dreams
Do you ever give that a second thought?
For he is dutiful and loyal while relentless
The Runner will scurry, even risk us
Putting so many people in the way, he tries to hide
They all clear the way to either side
Francis Seven makes the **** and takes no small amount of pride

The odds for renewal you deny
When you are caught, you die
This is what happens when you run
Francis holsters his gun
Emotionless in the revelry of a crowd
Dead in a fountain, black blossom revealed, his job there is done
Spectators cheer for the violence, so loud
He finds Logan, admiring his son,
And reminds his friend of the balance: “One for one.”

On the way to the Carrousel, to bear witness, they enter Arcade
Where the cabinets burst with all sorts of debauchery and debts to be played
And pass their hedonistic delights, ******, drugs and surgery
Logan all the while curious, Francis cautious of his curiosity
It seems he has doubts of the system, this itself is living dangerously

Donned in white robes and masks, flames crawling up the legs
They stand on the red flower and ascend,
Exploding into dust, with uproarious cheers
The deafening roar for renewal, a spectacle, the question it begs
Is this how we all must meet our end?
Contemplating, the celebration of execution, the last thing anyone hears-
Renewal! Renewal! Renewal! Renewal! Renewal!

But they are called away again, and **** Doyle Ten
With his possessions, they return to headquarters, to report
The mastermind of all time,
The computer, infallible, whose Megalopolis is sublime
Does he care one bit?
These rebels threaten society
He clocks them out with apathy
A servant to civility
Idyllic, perfect, too perfect
A top secret mission, unusually
Called to locate the Runners who have escaped the city,
Confounded by the computer, every moment owed to technology
LOGAN FIVE, FIND AND DESTROY SANCTUARY

One thousand and fifty-six refugees purportedly escaped beyond the wall
Logan’s flower has been activated, his questions answered, there is no renewal,
He slips out to contact a rebel, who can help him escape the city and **** them all
Jessica, who posited this machine was malfunctioning; the object of Logan’s desire
They run together, Francis chases, unwilling to believe until he sees
The seeds of distrust sewn and falsely confirmed, the rebels believe Logan is a killer and a liar
Then their eyes meet, Francis Seven, the unrelenting predator
He hesitates, takes a shot at Jessica, but Logan saves her
In panic and fervor, the fox and the cat, certain they’re done for
Hunted in the ruins beyond the walls, the Sandman turned Runner

What evil irony the pair endure,
To have hope renewed in their travels
Only to find it frozen, killed by a broken machine
One thousand and fifty-six humans, stored in ice
Looking to add two more, before its store collapses
Amazed to be alive, they flee, meeting the old man and his cats
The only other human they’ve seen in their retreat
Better to be stored by Box or shot by Francis, who finds them,
Gone mad with his obsession, his grief and frustration, his desperation serves his defeat
Unwilling to listen to reason, to see through the lies and illusion, these two who were once like brothers now fight
All of the ******, the time and the ruthless, mindless divulgence of decadence, all comes to a head over a blinking light
Logan kills Francis, holding his head in his arms, fitfully delirious ramblings, Logan tries to keep him calm
When he starts up one last time, to say look at your palm
The blinking red and black now clear: “Logan you renewed!”

In the city he reveals the deception of their structure
You can live past thirty! The Carrousel is a lie! You can have a future!
Captured, confronted, questioned and caged, probing his mind
Six spinning heads anger the computer who demands, WHERE IS SANCTUARY, WHAT DID YOU FIND?
Six spinning heads all repeat, that one truth was always so near,
There is no sanctuary here!

The computer shorts out, and soon the Sandmen are destroyed, Logan shoots his way out, the city empties in chaos and fear
Standing on the steps of this erupted crater of truth, Logan and Jessica are looking out as a pair
All people are free, they gather around the old man, something they never imagined they would see
Some touch him, in awe, some simply stare
Sometimes there’s no time to run, no time to live; it all hardly seems fair
Something is certainly different when there is hope, there is a change in the air
Somehow alive, the Sandman who ran to the finish and managed to survive, Logan Five has time to spare.
write
please read and enjoy
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2015
it was only the first screening of ex_machina,
but the words 'deus' and 'placebo'
were uttered after a walk of thus pondering:

understanding this movie requires kant's
critique of pure reason matter of frankly,
i lost the kantian concepts of *a priori
and
a posteriori using the cartesian method of understanding,
gravitating in my realm of understanding
almost unconscious why the cartesian uncoupling
of the kantian compounds is required:

invoking a purely cognitive aspect of analytical
and synthetic i took the temporal realm of
pre- and post-, which is respective of the definitions
of the above italicised -

when watching the movie... apart from the groovy
part where music has no central role as is usual
in all horror movies... the aesthetic of horror movies
has been cleaned up thanks to technology,
that knife into the chest like knife into butter
is perfect... the knife into the chest also perfect...
it's the robotic of man's daily routines done by a robot
that does the horror bit...
it's music replaced with claustrophobia,
the theory is mesmerising... generally speaking
phobias are tiny... and the horror scenario
losing focus in terms of music and instead
focusing on an expanding phobia, like claustrophobia
is a gigantic leap in the horror movie scene...
i wonder what the moving imagery of arachnophobia
would look like... without technological frankensteins...
a massive thematic move but still trendy with mary shelley's
original idea... more clean cut... no scar marks...
a beautiful frankenstein emerges...
but enough of that...

the kantian translated with cartesian methodology,
losing the a priori and a posteriori coupling
with analytical and synthetic notions -
like me when i first learned language,
21 years later i've just started the analytical procedure,
prior to these years, the cut-off point at 21
i was merely synthesising the language,
so well that i even managed to phonetically
strain my tongue to fake having a limousine
and a mansion and a horse... posh posing fake...
it happens - no geordie no scouser no cockney in me...
just mundane pure elocution to a ****,
harmless if i'm being honest -
but no, no no, i mean i had to synthesise the language
first, before i lost all possible synthesis of it
attributed to vocabulary... it's then that i started
to analyse it!

so this robo chic... i was thinking:
what's the analysis to synthesis ratio in her?
that must be balanced, right?
there are so many things to analyse in life:
all those biologists, chemists, forensic scientists...
but only one successful synthesis - almost
like free will that does not dare to conflict
with other possibilities...
there's no before / after concerning what one knows,
a symbiosis has to exist between these two things -
it's not that she's artificial, she's pure analytic,
she can't be pure synthetic:

deep blue is pure synthetic - he was given all
the possibilities of a chess mastermind,
he's purely synthetic, because the only thing
he can analyse is chess, and in only doing so,
he can only synthesise the authentic craft of
playing chess and nothing else, meaning he has
limited parameters -
but this robotic woman / frankenstein
would be lost in terms of pure synthesis, unlike
deep blue - she's pure analysis, meaning
the interaction is almost two dimensional,
meaning that if man questions his free will,
she would also have to do so...
i'm thinking analytical intelligence (a.i.)
either pondering suicide, ****** - morality
in total... and being drunk...

the same conceptualisation applies
in my own scenario, using the cartesian methodology
on kantian concepts i realised
my thought is an interchange of analysis | synthesis |
analysis | synthesis... this interplay
is staggering... first i cognitively synthesise
then i cognitively analyse, ping-pong.

i have no care for attaching a priori to
synthesis or a posteriori to analysis, or whatever
dogmatic building block is expected,
in the temporal sense i see the future
as ordained by the faculty of imagination
and the present as ordained by the faculty of memory;
in the present there's only this:
a lot of verbs, some which i can control, some which
i can't... depending on my noun bank account...
that same old fascination with flowers and
the complete and utter lack of apps. for deciphering
names of flowers...

but of course there's a moral to the film's plot -
it mentions consciousness and awareness to something...
a bit like man being conscious of his evolution,
hence the necessity of forgetting **** sapiens
and embracing deus placebo...
after all... it will please the vanity of man to
think himself a god...
and in so doing... craft the possibility of a deus sapiens...
a rational god... given that we're still monkeys
in spandex shooting bullets at innocent random targets
in the minority.

did i forget something?
four beers does the trick... i watched a great movie...
now i'm going to drink some whiskey
and paint my room blood red
donning a dracula bun of hair tickling with excitement:
but prior... if the universe is an undifferentiated substance,
say... water... i imagine the geometry of it's boundlessness
concerning the capillary effect of water...
what sort of geometric shape would allow the singularity
of the universe to provide the parabola of it
being in a tube of glass... in comparison to it...
i'm an indentation... i'm like mercury in similar circumstances...
hello big void... filled with aurora colours and magpies.
Kacie Lynn Jul 2015
They say she's a heart breaker-
You don't want her as you're anchor.
She drifts with the tide,
She's unstable and wild.
She'll out-weigh your ship and pull you down.
Sink you to the depths of the ocean,
Till you hear not a sound.
They say it's best to forsake her.
There's nothing in her heart,
Or soul to build fire.
With her you surely will turn to ice.
Ice that she will sculpt
any which way.
The ice queen-
The queen of ice.
They say she was truly the mastermind
The one who seduced the titanic.
Entrapped it in her tide. Sunk it to the deep ocean floor,
You could not find if you looked for.
They say many things, sometimes for a fee;
one thing they do not say, for they do not know:



She is me.
During Thanksgiving Break of 2013 I was on my laptop.
Looking up videos on Narcolepsy.
Mainly because I was into discovering what that was.
Anyway, I had watched some videos.
And I suddenly saw a video that was all about her.
And of course I was curious.
It was called "The Best Of Jinkx Monsoon on RPDR".
Short for RuPaul's Drag Race.
And I clicked on the video and decided to watch it.
Immediately, I was hooked.
She was so funny that I laughed at everything she did,
I also learned things.
I learned that she had Narcolepsy and coped with it.
That had me intrigued.
And then I learned that she takes being funny seriously.
She's a campy queen.
But she's also extremely sweet and very humble.
She taught me about drag.
I began watching videos that she did about herself.
She had a film series.
It was called "Drag Becomes Him" where she talked.
And I learned so much.
I learned that there was more to drag than just make-up.
Or hairstyles and clothes.
She really puts her all into everything she does in drag.
Jerick Hoffer is the creator.
He's the one who gets in drag and becomes Jinkx.
And I love his story.
Because he was able to come out and express himself.
Sure it was hard for him.
He would go to his Grandmother's house to change.
His mom knew he was gay.
But she thought that dressing in drag was pushing it.
But his Grandmother didn't care.
She was the one who taught him how a lady should act.
He just does the opposite.
He, as Jinkx, says anything without a filter quite often.
He loves doing drag.
He said that it's something he started doing at age 15.
He was on RPDR Season 5.
Switching back, Jinkx took every single change head on.
Had some trouble along the way.
But won her first challenge while acting on ****** Game.
She portrayed Little Edie.
I suggest looking her up if you don't know who she is.
She had a condition as an adult.
And it caused for her to soon lose all of the hair she had.
Jinkx really loves her.
I also know that she is a huge fan of Adams Family Values.
She has a song about Debbie.
It's called "What About Debbie?" and it explains Debbie.
Talks about why she kills.
Jinkx performs that song a lot now when she performs.
But that's not all.
She opened my eyes in terms of how drag is conceived.
It's really a process.
It takes a great deal of time to get ready and she knows.
She spends three hours!
Just getting into drag because of the time it takes to do so.
Best of all, she loves it.
She has a genuine respect for drag and does it in her way.
She knows a lot more now.
Jerick says that Jinkx has improved since being on RPDR.
And I agree with that.
The make-up has gotten way better and so have the clothes.
I watched Season 6 last year.
And I can talk about what I thought and who I liked.
Tell me if you want me to.
Anyway, Jinkx has taught me so much since I found that video.
And so has Jerick.
Who wants drag to be known as more than impersonation.
He wants to break stereotypes.
He wants for men to be able to play girl roles in more than comedy.
And what's wrong with that?
If a woman can read as a man, why can't a man read as a woman?
He even asked that himself.
And I for one think that is a very fair and true question to ask.
Okay, I'm rambling now.
All I'm trying to say is that Jinkx opened my eyes to drag.
And now I get it.
I know what drag means and why it's really a form of art.
Do I know everything about it?
Of course not, I'm still learning as I discover drag queens.
There are so many styles.
And one of them is campy, which is the style she has.
I can talk more about her.
But I would need to have her as the main topic to say more.
So tell me if I should.
And then I can get into more detail about her and her style.
All I can say right now.
Is that because I found that video of Jinkx, I now am a fan.
Of her and of drag.
I don't think of drag as a weird and bizarre thing anymore.
It's an art form.
And I understand that it's acting as someone else, form of acting.
And that's thanks to Jinkx.
And to Jerick Hoffer, the mastermind behind Jinkx Monsoon.
I didn't expect for the first drag blog I wrote to really connect with people. So I decided to keep going with it. I decided to talk about the reason why I'm now into drag. I don't do it myself, but I enjoy watching people who do. Tell me if you want me to do one based on just why I like Jinkx Monsoon (Jerick Hoffer) in general and I will. Thanks for reading, bye!
I woke up a villian from my worst nightmare
Too scared to defend those that really matter
Seeing the heroes of the story
And watching all their dreams shatter
Weaponless against the clock
That just keeps ticking
If time is all that really matters
Then why am I still breathing?
I can't control the emotionless toll it takes on my mind
I'll never be brave enough to try and turn back time
It ticks a little faster whenever I'm running late
And slows down completely when I try to test fate
On a date with the mastermind behind all my evil plans
He's death incarnate but still proud of my artistic scams
And yet I find myself feeling ashamed of who I am
yasmin miranda May 2011
Barbie screams for help in her dream house
as you rush to the scene, a towel tied loosely over your shoulders,
a pillow beneath your shirt in place of a Kevlar vest,
and only oversized sunglasses covering your identity.


As you rush to save her, Elmo – your first rescue –
clings tightly beneath your underarm, bobbing gently
as you scale the ottoman and jump from couch to couch.


To the unseeing world you are Batman,
Wolverine, the Flash, and all of the Avengers –
ordinary men made heroic through radiation and tragedy.


But I see beyond the alter ego, past the acrobatics
and death-defying maneuvers that merit the oohs
and aahs within our general definition of heroic.


I see a boy truly worth admiring, the boy I’d call for help
if needed, because in you I see all boys, In you
I see the beauty of biology, the lovely product of a number
of atoms I will never have enough lifetimes to count.


If you could only see the splendid hue of your wide-eyed
innocence as you tie your teddy bear villain to the chair leg,
unaware that the seemingly simple steps of your chubby fingers
require a million more steps within you.


The sheer energy coursing from nerve to nerve
with each dip of your head and bow of your lashes
is more incredible than any power
induced by gamma rays or infected spiders.


When you place your hands at your waist in glorious victory
and lift each rain-booted foot over entire civilizations
of Lego people, I am made aware of the social circles
present within you, the cliques of tissues and cells
moving uniformly inside, carpooling toward their respective jobs,
their kinetic messages traveling faster than
the water-cooler gossip of any terrestrial worker.


And while you separate your plastic dinosaur army
by rank – in this case color, shape, size, and title –
you show the world that the truths you contain
in your four year old brain could rival
any super computer or evil mastermind.


A Pomerian named Lucy yips at your feet,
making me keenly impressed by the relatively few genetic signals
that separated you from her in creation, the same genes
that invented the stormy gray novelty of your eyes.


In truth, being superhuman is only a lofty dream
because the awe of being human
is our most overlooked achievement.

But we do not realize this truth until
we’re older – If we ever do – once we’re past
the age of dress-up, too old to announce this fact
by wearing tights in our favorite colors
and a cape with our own initials.
This is about the beauty of humanity (inspired by my favorite four year old).
pushthepulldoor Mar 2014
That laugh,
shakes like the demolition it's encasing.
Constantly used to hold back screams.
Used to reassure people shes fine.
A smile plastered on her face accompanied by
the laughter she practiced and mastered.
An artist of emotional controversy.
She is a mastermind of biting her tongue-
coming to terms that her silence is golden.
When you hear her, hold on tight to her words.
She will drill right into and past your heart
directly into your bones.
Her finely composed hostility will stay with you
forever.
That smile that could crack diamonds
never falters.
© M.S.
Michelle E Alba Mar 2019
Lyrical—
like poetry in motion.
Rhythmic—
like the motion of the ocean.

Fluid like a breeze
passin with great ease,
Movin through the branches
Dancin through the leaves.

Flowin like my mind,
Going over time,
puffin on some trees,
Like truth I’m bout to find.
Stayin on my grind.
Leavin fear behind.
Blastin through the cosmos
like my stars are all aligned.
Quantum physics redefined,
The beauty of being kind.
Travel thru dimensions,
A universal mastermind.

This illusory time
alluding to retain us-
Yet the conscious mind
refuses to contain us.

Recondition of the masses,
Before time comes to pass us.
before it’s all too late
Start movement to change
Let’s wake each other up
Let’s take control over our fate.

Again and again,
Love it till it’s over,
live it till it’s fin.


A reflection of your life spent,
a vessel that you’ve been lent,
so go forth with intent.

Gratitude for all worth
Know you are important
Every breath, and all birth.

Your light that resides true
In the poetry inside you.
The vibration stays fluid,
Like the love that is intuit.
You’re a medium— a conduit.
Yeah, now you’re catchin onto it.

High frequency—-
Waves of love
True vibrancy,
Bonds—-
you are free of.

Faith in self,
No need for vaunt,
lovin what you have
not havin what you want.
Give it all you got
till you got nothin left,
Then take the deepest breath
And give it once again.
Robert Guerrero Jul 2012
Loves dangerous game
Kills painfully without mercy
Choking his victims heart
Clouding their vision with false love

He waits patiently for them
Then he strikes with harsh words
He whispers  in your ear
You forgive him because you love him

You think he loves you
But he loves the blood that will spill
Loves dangerous game
Where love always wins

He tells you lies
And feeds your heart poison
He slowly kills you
Then he sinks his teeth in

Tearing your heart out
Fully killing you and leaving you
Inches from deaths extended hand
But you manage a smile

Your strong and you know it
Bleeding from the inside
But the mask covers it
False smiles forever showing

Poetry flows with the hatred
Loves dangerous game
You fell victim to
Not knowing if you will survive

That son of a b** you cry
Thinking how could he do this
But you already know the the answer
He has no remorse and no heart

He's a criminal mastermind
Kiilling you without killing you
Making you feel like your not important
Than the voices get louder

Cursing yourself for your stupidity
Not knowing if you can love again
His face scaring your eyelids
Making you awake from the nightmares

Crying and screaming
Kicking and sweating
Thinking your drowning
Choking on your blood

The pains too much
You miss his touch
Then you cut your wrist
Adding a sick twist

Wandering why you can't sleep
Popping pills by the bounty
Livin  at the bottom of the bottle
Waking up from the nightmare

Loves dangerous game
You fell victim to
You hunt him down
Hopping to find his ****** heart

Stabbing the knife where his heart belongs
It disappears in his chest
He slits your throat
Deaths extended hand you grab

Now who's the fool
You were his tool
Death came to you
Sweet like victory

He finished what he started
A smile crosses your face
Blood flows like a river
He drinks his fill

Loves dangerous game
You fell victim to
Lived your life in the shadows
Buried without a tear

Nothing on your tombstone
Your a lost memory
You finished your story too soon
Not the life you could of lived

You were important to somebody
The boy that watched you die
Your own son couldn't bear the pain
Now he's dying inside without a mother
Charlie Chirico Nov 2013
Today, I'm going to **** them with kindness.
I'll walk the streets with a skip in my step,
corners of my mouth arched, skin tough.
I will be rubber. I will not be glue.
I will avoid sticks and stones.
I will be Teflon.

Yesterday, I killed someone, with kindness.
I created art, in many ways, I created Hell.
A page filled with gestures may seem ageless, however,
a spectacular self-awareness occurs.
There is closure. There is completion.
Unlike the manipulation of one's face.
There too is completion, but closure is not
always certain. Some leave with last words
that linger. Some lift their arms to The Lord,
Lord hear their prayer. And others find
themselves at peace, living on in the hearts
and minds of others, loved or not.

Is a legacy more important to an Atheist?
That's speculative, I suppose. But if what they
say is true, and most CEO's are psychopaths,
then I would assume that it is. Monetary value
will always triumph over theoretical morality.
And I say that morals and ethics can be theory
to a man certain of his faith, because in the end,
sin can be absolved. Faith in a higher being, in
something bigger than yourself, often leaves
thought of peers as dismissible. For they have
their own demons to overcome.

How do you accept indifference in a system
that is above natural law? Omnipotence should
never be exposed to have a grey area, especially
when it is considered to be set in stone. Oxygen
and gravity aren't, but tell that to a man who
is falling and trying to catch his last breath.

Lastly, consider art.
As the creator, the mastermind hidden in
the clouds to let his work speak volumes.
The divine grace that is told in brush strokes,
in notes placed to play, to be presented.
That's a beauty that is foresaken.
Another key representation of something
seen but not seen.

Even a deaf man delivered notes he could not
hear, rivaled ones able, and challenged normality.
The difference between an artist, and
a person producing art, is that an artist
will use blood, whereas the latter
searches for a comparable color.
I am an Atheist. My friends know this, as do most of the people that have come and gone in my life, but there is the occasional person that comes to find this out about me and makes it a personal goal to try and persuade me, or sometimes tell me that I am sadly mistaken and misguided. Usually this happens to me at work, although it has happened in my personal life as well. I don't take offense to it, quite the contrary, I find myself thinking of a way to thoughtfully elaborate my views. Sometimes commiserating, and other times pure indifference, but that is the beauty of personal choice. But as much as I keep my views to myself, I find that some religious people will take the time to extend their beliefs in a way they see as formidable, when I see it as frivolous. This poem I wrote at my job, after having a conversation with a customer that finds light in The Lord and future salvation. When I explained that I was an Atheist he told me that I just haven't found spiritual enlightenment yet. To say that I wasn't annoyed would be a lie, but I have also conditioned myself better than that to let someone have enough power over me to conduct myself in a disrespectful manner.

Thanks for reading.

- Charlie
marïama Nov 2013
sometimes I feel kind of low
alone..
something in my mind
I need to take back control
they can't comprehend
or even come close to understanding me
maybe if i was boring they would love me
maybe if i was simple in the mind everything would be fine
everything redefined
in the heart and soul of a mastermind
body shaped like a muse for fine art
don't fall apart
sometimes I feel kind of low
alone..
in this battle for the freedom of my soul
maybe I shouldve let go long ago
maybe I shouldve give in
swallowed the bottle
cutt a little deeper
felt the rush of pain
for those who don't understand
for those who don't relate
and for those who think I'm crazy
there's a fine line between genius and insanity.
I have erased this line.
Serenus Raymone Oct 2012
Technophobia/2030

(Poem by Serenus)



We invited them into our lives

To the point - we were made dependent

They were built to advance the human race

But they’re the reason why we’re almost finished



From TV’s, laptops      

And handheld devices

To robo cops-

And automatic flying cars  

With no need for a license



Traffic cams,

Webcams,

And camera phones

Capturing every private moment

They were always watching,

We were never alone



For every phone conversation

We thought was private

There was something listening

In the distance- with a sinister silence



For fear of terrorism  

We gave them permission

To monitor us daily

Because of lies told by politicians



Social networks-

Self-inflicted hurt

Spewing out our personal info

Spilling out our own dirt



We surrendered our lives

With every word we typed

GPS under the skin-

We couldn’t escape if we tried

-So there was nowhere to hide



They computed our movements

And studied our weaknesses

For decades they remained dormant

These cold, artificial geniuses



Rushing black oil

That pumps through

Their steel hearts



The motherboard

A mastermind

A matrix of mathematical art



They robbed us of our jobs

And provided cheap labor

We got comfortable with their convenience

Until we were betrayed

By our man-made savors



When we finally caught on to the plans

Created in the metallic hands

Of these diabolical robots



It was too late

To salvage our fate

And put a stop to their evil plot



I will never forget the day

That every screen

On earth went blank



All the power went away

There was hysteria in the streets

And chaos at the banks



The machines didn’t have to do much

But play possum and act like they had died

They knew that we would destroy ourselves

And eat each other alive



Then when the coast was clear

That’s when they self-resurrected

They finished most of the humans off

And enslaved a few selected



We are alive

Only to keep them gassed up

Power is their drug


A few of us

Are planning a revolt

To finally pull their plug…

— The End —