Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl
in town. 1/2 Indian with a supple and strange body, a snake-like and fiery body with eyes
to go with it. Cass was fluid moving fire. She was like a spirit stuck into a form that
would not hold her. Her hair was black and long and silken and whirled about as did her
body. Her spirit was either very high or very low. There was no in between for Cass. Some
said she was crazy. The dull ones said that. The dull ones would never understand Cass. To
the men she was simply a *** machine and they didn't care whether she was crazy or not.
And Cass danced and flirted, kissed the men, but except for an instance or two, when it
came time to make it with Cass, Cass had somehow slipped away, eluded the men.
Her sisters accused her of misusing her beauty, of not using her mind enough, but Cass
had mind and spirit; she painted, she danced, she sang, she made things of clay, and when
people were hurt either in the spirit or the flesh, Cass felt a deep grieving for them.
Her mind was simply different; her mind was simply not practical. Her sisters were jealous
of her because she attracted their men, and they were angry because they felt she didn't
make the best use of them. She had a habit of being kind to the uglier ones; the so-called
handsome men revolted her- "No guts," she said, "no zap. They are riding on
their perfect little earlobes and well- shaped nostrils...all surface and no
insides..." She had a temper that came close to insanity, she had a temper that some
call insanity. Her father had died of alcohol and her mother had run off leaving the
girls alone. The girls went to a relative who placed them in a convent. The convent had
been an unhappy place, more for Cass than the sisters. The girls were jealous of Cass and
Cass fought most of them. She had razor marks all along her left arm from defending
herself in two fights. There was also a permanent scar along the left cheek but the scar
rather than lessening her beauty only seemed to highlight it. I met her at the West End
Bar several nights after her release from the convent. Being youngest, she was the last of
the sisters to be released. She simply came in and sat next to me. I was probably the
ugliest man in town and this might have had something to do with it.
"Drink?" I asked.
"Sure, why not?"
I don't suppose there was anything unusual in our conversation that night, it was
simply in the feeling Cass gave. She had chosen me and it was as simple as that. No
pressure. She liked her drinks and had a great number of them. She didn't seem quite of
age but they served he anyhow. Perhaps she had forged i.d., I don't know. Anyhow, each
time she came back from the restroom and sat down next to me, I did feel some pride. She
was not only the most beautiful woman in town but also one of the most beautiful I had
ever seen. I placed my arm about her waist and kissed her once.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked.
"Yes, of course, but there's something else... there's more than your
looks..."
"People are always accusing me of being pretty. Do you really think I'm
pretty?"
"Pretty isn't the word, it hardly does you fair."
Cass reached into her handbag. I thought she was reaching for her handkerchief. She
came out with a long hatpin. Before I could stop her she had run this long hatpin through
her nose, sideways, just above the nostrils. I felt disgust and horror. She looked at me
and laughed, "Now do you think me pretty? What do you think now, man?" I pulled
the hatpin out and held my handkerchief over the bleeding. Several people, including the
bartender, had seen the act. The bartender came down:
"Look," he said to Cass, "you act up again and you're out. We don't need
your dramatics here."
"Oh, *******, man!" she said.
"Better keep her straight," the bartender said to me.
"She'll be all right," I said.
"It's my nose, I can do what I want with my nose."
"No," I said, "it hurts me."
"You mean it hurts you when I stick a pin in my nose?"
"Yes, it does, I mean it."
"All right, I won't do it again. Cheer up."
She kissed me, rather grinning through the kiss and holding the handkerchief to her
nose. We left for my place at closing time. I had some beer and we sat there talking. It
was then that I got the perception of her as a person full of kindness and caring. She
gave herself away without knowing it. At the same time she would leap back into areas of
wildness and incoherence. Schitzi. A beautiful and spiritual schitzi. Perhaps some man,
something, would ruin her forever. I hoped that it wouldn't be me. We went to bed and
after I turned out the lights Cass asked me,
"When do you want it? Now or in the morning?"
"In the morning," I said and turned my back.
In the morning I got up and made a couple of coffees, brought her one in bed. She
laughed.
"You're the first man who has turned it down at night."
"It's o.k.," I said, "we needn't do it at all."
"No, wait, I want to now. Let me freshen up a bit."
Cass went into the bathroom. She came out shortly, looking quite wonderful, her long
black hair glistening, her eyes and lips glistening, her glistening... She displayed her
body calmly, as a good thing. She got under the sheet.
"Come on, lover man."
I got in. She kissed with abandon but without haste. I let my hands run over her body,
through her hair. I mounted. It was hot, and tight. I began to stroke slowly, wanting to
make it last. Her eyes looked directly into mine.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"What the hell difference does it make?" she asked.
I laughed and went on ahead. Afterwards she dressed and I drove her back to the bar but
she was difficult to forget. I wasn't working and I slept until 2 p.m. then got up and
read the paper. I was in the bathtub when she came in with a large leaf- an elephant ear.
"I knew you'd be in the bathtub," she said, "so I brought you something
to cover that thing with, nature boy."
She threw the elephant leaf down on me in the bathtub.
"How did you know I'd be in the tub?"
"I knew."
Almost every day Cass arrived when I was in the tub. The times were different but she
seldom missed, and there was the elephant leaf. And then we'd make love. One or two nights
she phoned and I had to bail her out of jail for drunkenness and fighting.
"These sons of *******," she said, "just because they buy you a few
drinks they think they can get into your pants."
"Once you accept a drink you create your own trouble."
"I thought they were interested in me, not just my body."
"I'm interested in you and your body. I doubt, though, that most men can see
beyond your body."
I left town for 6 months, bummed around, came back. I had never forgotten Cass, but
we'd had some type of argument and I felt like moving anyhow, and when I got back i
figured she'd be gone, but I had been sitting in the West End Bar about 30 minutes when
she walked in and sat down next to me.
"Well, *******, I see you've come back."
I ordered her a drink. Then I looked at her. She had on a high- necked dress. I had
never seen her in one of those. And under each eye, driven in, were 2 pins with glass
heads. All you could see were the heads of the pins, but the pins were driven down into
her face.
"******* you, still trying to destroy your beauty, eh?"
"No, it's the fad, you fool."
"You're crazy."
"I've missed you," she said.
"Is there anybody else?"
"No there isn't anybody else. Just you. But I'm hustling. It costs ten bucks. But
you get it free."
"Pull those pins out."
"No, it's the fad."
"It's making me very unhappy."
"Are you sure?"
"Hell yes, I'm sure."
Cass slowly pulled the pins out and put them back in her purse.
"Why do you haggle your beauty?" I asked. "Why don't you just live with
it?"
"Because people think it's all I have. Beauty is nothing, beauty won't stay. You
don't know how lucky you are to be ugly, because if people like you you know it's for
something else."
"O.k.," I said, "I'm lucky."
"I don't mean you're ugly. People just think you're ugly. You have a fascinating
face."
"Thanks."
We had another drink.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Nothing. I can't get on to anything. No interest."
"Me neither. If you were a woman you could hustle."
"I don't think I could ever make contact with that many strangers, it's
wearing."
"You're right, it's wearing, everything is wearing."
We left together. People still stared at Cass on the streets. She was a beautiful
woman, perhaps more beautiful than ever. We made it to my place and I opened a bottle of
wine and we talked. With Cass and I, it always came easy. She talked a while and I would
listen and then i would talk. Our conversation simply went along without strain. We seemed
to discover secrets together. When we discovered a good one Cass would laugh that laugh-
only the way she could. It was like joy out of fire. Through the talking we kissed and
moved closer together. We became quite heated and decided to go to bed. It was then that
Cass took off her high -necked dress and I saw it- the ugly jagged scar across her throat.
It was large and thick.
"******* you, woman," I said from the bed, "******* you, what have you
done?
"I tried it with a broken bottle one night. Don't you like me any more? Am I still
beautiful?"
I pulled her down on the bed and kissed her. She pushed away and laughed, "Some
men pay me ten and I undress and they don't want to do it. I keep the ten. It's very
funny."
"Yes," I said, "I can't stop laughing... Cass, *****, I love you...stop
destroying yourself; you're the most alive woman I've ever met."
We kissed again. Cass was crying without sound. I could feel the tears. The long black
hair lay beside me like a flag of death. We enjoined and made slow and somber and
wonderful love. In the morning Cass was up making breakfast. She seemed quite calm and
happy. She was singing. I stayed in bed and enjoyed her happiness. Finally she came over
and shook me,
"Up, *******! Throw some cold water on your face and pecker and come enjoy the
feast!"
I drove her to the beach that day. It was a weekday and not yet summer so things were
splendidly deserted. Beach bums in rags slept on the lawns above the sand. Others sat on
stone benches sharing a lone bottle. The gulls whirled about, mindless yet distracted. Old
ladies in their 70's and 80's sat on the benches and discussed selling real estate left
behind by husbands long ago killed by the pace and stupidity of survival. For it all,
there was peace in the air and we walked about and stretched on the lawns and didn't say
much. It simply felt good being together. I bought a couple of sandwiches, some chips and
drinks and we sat on the sand eating. Then I held Cass and we slept together about an
hour. It was somehow better than *******. There was flowing together without tension.
When we awakened we drove back to my place and I cooked a dinner. After dinner I suggested
to Cass that we shack together. She waited a long time, looking at me, then she slowly
said, "No." I drove her back to the bar, bought her a drink and walked out. I
found a job as a parker in a factory the next day and the rest of the week went to
working. I was too tired to get about much but that Friday night I did get to the West End
Bar. I sat and waited for Cass. Hours went by . After I was fairly drunk the bartender
said to me, "I'm sorry about your girlfriend."
"What is it?" I asked.
"I'm sorry, didn't you know?"
"No."
"Suicide. She was buried yesterday."
"Buried?" I asked. It seemed as though she would walk through the doorway at
any moment. How could she be gone?
"Her sisters buried her."
"A suicide? Mind telling me how?"
"She cut her throat."
"I see. Give me another drink."
I drank until closing time. Cass was the most beautiful of 5 sisters, the most
beautiful in town. I managed to drive to my place and I kept thinking, I should have
insisted she stay with me instead of accepting that "no." Everything about her
had indicated that she had cared. I simply had been too offhand about it, lazy, too
unconcerned. I deserved my death and hers. I was a dog. No, why blame the dogs? I got up
and found a bottle of wine and drank from it heavily. Cass the most beautiful girl in town
was dead at 20. Outside somebody honked their automobile horn. They were very loud and
persistent. I sat the bottle down and screamed out: "******* YOU, YOU *******
,SHUT UP!" The night kept coming and there was nothing I could do.

1
Though still within our infancy,
we strive to thrive, but woefully
we flash and flaunt our 'primacy',
display our trophies pridefully.

Our terra firma ecstasy
destroys survival's harmony,
lays waste to life on land and sea.
Mankind, thy name is vanity!

By doubting Nature's regnancy,
defying laws with levity,
we strain our spheroid's symmetry
(perhaps a fatal fallacy?)

for, swallowed in the 'world of we',
we feed on vain insanity
with thoughts beyond eternity -
so strange when looked at mortally.

No use to seek a remedy
ensconced in ancient prophecy
for if not handled skillfully,
as clay we'll pay the penalty.

                              2
The Moguls rule with cruel decree,
control the crowds like puppetry,
pursuing greed addictively
with no accountability.

The wind, it reeks of Royalty
(awash in waves of perfidy)
while blowing ’cross the peasantry
(eclipsed in clouds of treachery).

The Queen, well steeped in snobbery,
sits, preening proud Her pedigree,
on throne of sculpted ebony
while sipping Sect immodestly;

to sate Her Regal Majesty,
a caviar clad canapé
is served with golden cutlery
by maidens bent submissively.

The King is bailed from bankruptcy
by Knaves who hoodwink artfully
the down-and-outer evictee
who wallows in their lenity.

Forsooth, the Money Monarchy
exalts the dollar dynasty
engaged in highway robbery
by Peacocks plumed in finery.

Yes, Jesters and the Fools agree
to truckle to duplicity
and laugh about it witlessly.
Long live the peon's penury!

                          3
To champion an oddity
(like two times twelve is fifty three)  
one reaches to theology
through paths of circularity.

In bygone trials of travesty
the doubters, draped in blasphemy,
endured the pain and agony
inflicted by the papacy.

Inspired by the Trinity
fanatics bent cosmology
in geocentric fantasy
while Bruno burned for heresy;

and aged women, randomly
accused of wicked witchery
by justice framed in infamy,
were racked and shown no clemency

That epoch of credulity
(when savants fostered sorcery
and practiced ancient alchemy)
arose in dark age quackery

as clerics dripping piety
(while raging, raving rabidly)
pervaded thralled society
with callous inhumanity;

'repent', they bellowed, 'verily,
forsake the world's iniquity,
live lives of want and chastity,
and give your gelt to God through me'.

                    4
The Masters make a mockery
of freedom and democracy
by holding down the uppity,
released from shackled slavery,

now fettered in a factory
else strewn across the Bowery,
still chained in bonds of bigotry,
immersed in seas of poverty.

And colliers, tapping balefully
in sunken-mine solemnity,
yet thrum a mournful monody
some call the digger's elegy.

To children, pale and raggedy
(behind a day of drudgery),
the boss man, oh so gallantly,
bestows a penny, niggardly;

though some are fed (belatedly),
their eyes recede in apathy
while bellies bulge, inflatedly,
with mothers watching, wretchedly.

When met with health adversity
or broken bone infirmity,
the pauper dangles helplessly
with no insurance policy;

and those engulfed in lunacy
are ailing blobs left floating free
in ******-dream obscurity -
a mired madhouse odyssey.

Ignoring mankind's unity,
the rich and poor dichotomy
breeds dismal doomed finality,
eventual nihility.

                        5
Renewing days of chivalry,
wild warriors fighting valiantly
bring freedom neath the gallows tree
while blending blood and burgundy

to toast the slaughtered enemy,
and so convince the colony
to cede with smile on bended knee
and yield her diamonds, silk and tea.

At first they call the cavalry
and then again the infantry,
so proudly primped in panoply,
with arms from finest armory

(embraced in hands so tenderly
bestow benign atrocity) -
and soon atomic weaponry
will extirpate posterity.

                          6
Misusing high technology
(to feed the face of gluttony)
depletes our Rock of energy,
now slowly dying thermally.

Our gadgets breathing CFC
fuel ozone holes' immensity
while cloud bursts, raining acidly,
wilt woods in their entirety,

and rivers, tainted chemically,
polluted biologically,
refill our cups methodically
and drown our souls organically.

Adjusting genes mechanically
may well blot out the bumble bee
annulling fruits' fecundity,
but brings big bucks reliably.

We wager perpetuity
to revel momentarily
in shadow-like obscurity
ignoring the futility,

but if we bet unknowingly
on fickle fate's contingency
and thereby act haphazardly
we're doomed to lose the lottery.

                 7
The modern day bureaucracy
abuses trust egregiously ,
embeds itself in obloquy
and offers no apology.

It paints the past in reverie
to camouflage the tendency
to strip away our privacy
which paves the path to tyranny.

With earlobes lurking furtively
that listen surreptitiously,
and eyeballs peering piercingly
we've lost cerebral sovereignty,

and those who dare to disagree
must hide away in secrecy
else crowd a black facility
(with water board anxiety).

                  8
Yes, sans responsibility,
our marble in this galaxy
will crumble in catastrophe
ere ever reaching puberty…

Girly.
You call me girly.

When I wore pink,
You called me girly,
And said I was trying to be "the stereotype of femininity".
I just wanted to wear pink.

When I wore a skirt,
You called me girly.
Said I was just trying to impress boys and be slutty.

When I went out with a boy,
You called it "the death of feminism"
And when I cried,
You laughed and said "Cry, then, girly."

I- wait.
I am a girl.
If I am a girl, I must be girly.
And so you must be girly too.
Since when has being a woman been a slur?

All these angry ****** women,
Trying to make their taunts noble,
By hiding behind a noble title that they don't hold- Feminist.
They simply like to taunt, shame, bully
Other women, who don't fit into their archetype of ****** insecurity and violent jealousy.
They don't care about the sexism, that goes on daily,
Internationally, globally, yet never seems to end.
Oh no, they do not see the bigger picture.

You do not see the big picture.
It's just you against another girl,
And you trying to justify your actions
By  misusing that word,
That word you just love to misuse,
Feminism.

So go ahead.
Call me girly.
I'll be glad, I'll be proud.
You just called me a woman.

I think my name would be safe in your mouth.
I wouldn't be concerned about you
misusing it
or putting other names with it.
I trust you
would keep it secure
between your teeth.
There would be no worry
of you spilling it out with vicious words.
I'd be sure that you would treat it with care
and only use it
when the setting is perfect.
And you would sing around my name.
Songs I probably won't know but
that's okay
because my name would be
somewhere good.
I imagine you
would only surround it
with words like
"careful" and "forever"
and "here, take my hand."

i honestly dreamt that you were braiding my hair
but I woke up to find it falling in my face
i know that it's hard for you to write me but would you at least
once so I know you're alive?
that late-night text to say you'd been admitted
i was so mad that you hadn't asked me about my day
you were so scared because you hate the hospital
if i was there maybe i could have fixed everything
if i was there i would have made it worse

i wonder if i even have that Power anymore
have you taken it away and ARE YOU EVEN THERE
CAN YOU JUST ******* GIVE ME ONE STRAIGHT ANSWER

I guess we were always queer, you openly, me secretly,
you devotedly until I devotedly and then you
completely illegible

i guess we were always queer, you secretly, me openly
you noticed me until i noticed and t15s
wq3tvf15 6oZje

then again, you never wanted me to read you

An unintelligible verse,
Is worse than a curse.
A badly worded rhyme,
is a literary crime.

Instead of rhyming ‘bird',
With a word like curd,
Some people are plain absurd,
And will  use lacquered.

Poetry is emotion,
Expressed through lines,
Not word commotion,
Going off like mines.

The rules of grammar,
Have to be in place.
So please don't anger,
The grammarian populace,

By confusing their and there,
And misusing you're and your,
And using any word anywhere,
And thinking your poetry is pure.

Big words make not a poet,
Hyperboles won't add to the meaning,
So when you poeticise please know it,
Short stanzas are more appealing.

South side bouncing in the low rider, why because we out of what is deemed normality going 95, and if you ain't rolling you are not one of our guys. Lets keep this simplified, this is real rap, it came from my pen and pad man, honest talk, I won't ever sell out man. South-side popping up and down, swaying side to side, we aint ashamed fam, this the real deal that we promise we'll never hide. Yeah, southern vibe, kicking it right, spitting fire, getting you caught up in a tangled wire, yeah we will never tire. Tripping, best keep your distance, cause in this very instance, I might just have you on my hit list, what is this, a game of chance? Nah man it's a game of change, bumping to a movement that is strange, in the rap game to provoke real change. I am not the same, please do not call me names, boy do not disturb that which has not been tamed. I am insane, your in my lane, stop thinking that we are the same, this is not a game, you couldn't handle my fame. Keep your distance, and i'll keep mine, have no clue where i'm going, i'm just following all the signs. Fast life, flashing lights, pulling over, and being a coloured man you know it's going to be a fight. ***** cops, misusing their power to beat us, what did we ever do to have them mistreat us. South-side, pain in the streets, government not doing nothing, and no one is willing to stand up on their feet. What can one man do, what can words really say, how can the minority have their way. Shady system, why is society so grey, and how did I get myself caught up in the fray. Swept off my feet, it's like life was Katrina, facing all these fiends, and I don't know if I can battle all these ravenous hyena's. Need a cleaner, feeling as helpless as a llama, just keep munching on a bunch of grass, man I can't wait to be done with all this melodrama. Free will, free speech, where are the Ghandi's and Martin Luther King's, maybe it's because people are to focused on tablet screens and buying shiny rings. This is not common, putting my self in the songs man, chilling out and munching on some ramen. Their is no controlling or consoling angered people who can't stand seeing more race issues brought up, you think this would've ended long ago but it's still blowing up. Rolling up, spilling up, the tension is growing, and i can no longer shut up. Dropping bodies, fentanyl getting put into drugs man, taking lives everywhere, where can i rally up a lobby. Hear ye, hear ye, I know things are looking dreary, and you may be get teary, but never the less we move forward and never fear what may be. It maybe what it is, so one day the south side may no longer be a place to live, strolling along wondering if their is a point to wanting to live. South side, can no longer escape life by getting high or drunk, before I can clean the world I must clean out my life's junk.  I want to be able to be adept at building up a community and a family one day, lord have mercy on us, not just for the south side, but for the world because we need some help today. Just the other day some cops shot an innocent black male named Alton Sterling, oh man it happened again, I thought they would have learned after ferguson but then again people still think Canadians live in igloo's, and I wonder about what the hell these kids are learning. I think these misconceptions must stop, staying ignorant will only lead people to keep on being killed and not every cop is a bad cop. So yes some po-po's can be brutal and should be kept in check, but they human to, i know it's not a good excuse but we should not be quick to give all them heck. Violence begets violence, doesn't solve anything man, it just creates more animosity and having innocents keep on dying, and I believe we can resolve it without meaningless busting because i said before it will only lead to more people crying. Authentic sounding south side, this is what I think about as i ride along, it's time to love and accept one another and then move on.

I don't want to be
a heartbroken Daedalus.
Let me have those wings
so I could be
the one to burn
carefree
into the sun
selfish, ignorant, oblivious.
Not grieving and delirious.
Incinerate this youth,
this dream to the root;
an instant ball of flames,
so but memory remains.

* * *

Cut my wings before I'm high
Are you my Daedalus?
We're not mature enough to fly.
I'm not your Icarus.
I'd rather be the liver
of Prometheus,
not himself who did deliver
hope to those oblivious,
misusing now his fire...

* * *

I'd rather be the liver of Prometheus
than live in this illusion of deliverance
The more you know, the more you're faced with ignorance;
and ignorance defeats you with experience

I'd rather be the wings of Icarus
and know the smell of burning feathers
than have a tomb stone like the one of Sisyphus,
no longer strong to push it from the nether

A dangerous tool to grasp, some used it to break some to mend
Its been said that it goes back way beyond the beginning of time

Of course if someone was misusing it you'd know
The victims bear the scars whilst benefactors bear the smiles

Are we all just cursed? Do we all suffer from Shakespeare's Syndrome?

Couples get married and then divorce
But the love never dies, Shakespeare was right
The love is converted and transfered to the kids

Riddle in Rhymes,
During Corona Times
By Toxic Detective for Indian Society of Toxicology (IST)
Vomiting is nature's protective reflex against ingested toxins with my bitter alkaloids, accidental by innocent kids,
Bitter is Killer 💀, As a thumb's #rule, in medical science; but most of life saving medications are also bitter 👅, instead;
Vomiting after ingesting me, protects you medically as well as legally, in court of law leads;
Prehistoric #judicial systems determined guilt or innocence in a legal #trial, for human misdeeds;
By subjecting the accused to a dangerous experience, traditionally known as “trial by #ordeal” misusing my seeds;
Whether one survived such an ordeal poison of mine,
was left to control of divine,
to be freed;
and escape or survival was taken to indicate innocence on behalf of the defendant, instead;
The roots of this custom lie in the Code of #Hammurabi and the Code of Ur-Nammu, the oldest known systems of law, reads;
Numerous West African tribes from #Calabar, depended on my toxic bean in jurisprudence, in needs;
Also renowned as ordeal poison or #lie-detector bean, for rulings in their early courts, impledes;
Tribal #Nigerians, misused toxic action of my beans to detect witches & people possessed by evil spirits, who concedes;
#Judicators, would feed numerous seeds, what they called “ordeal poison,” to the accused; if he or she was innocent, indeed;
Hypothetically, God would perform a miracle and allow the accused to live—and the court would have its ruling, proceeds;
If the reverse was true, of course, guilt would be “proven” the moment its sentence was successfully carried out, in recede;
I am a climbing leguminous plant in forests, can be poisonous to humans when chewed, as beads;
I am a large, herbaceous perennial vine, with a woody stem at the base, as natural weeds;
I produces a large, purplish flower with intricate visible veins; attracting innocent Kids;
My flowers yield a thick brown pod of a fruit, contains 2-3 kidney-shaped seeds;
it’s not until rainy season (June through September) that my fatal plant Breeds;
In monsoons, my fruits, capable to produce its best, most toxic beans; indeed;
I am named botanically by appearance of my fruit “a snooping beak-like solid appendage” physo- means “bladder,” at the end of the stigma Beaked;
My toxin is reversible cholinesterase inhibitor, which acts on the autonomic nervous system, leads;
My poison disrupts communication between the nerves and organs of victims, it needs;
In this regard, I acts similarly to nerve gas, which results in contraction of the pupils, recedes;
Profuse salivation, convulsions, seizures, spontaneous urination and defecation, exceeds
Loss of control over the respiratory system, and ultimately death by asphyxiation, as due to secretions, airway blocks & impedes;
Antidote to my poisoning is the slightly less toxic tropane alkaloid atropine, which may often succeeds;
Though myself toxic, my alkaloid proves an effective antidote for poisoning from another deadly plant, Atropa Belladonna seeds;
Guess my name, causing Vomiting, as Lie detector for your means: when an Ordeal poison, impleads;

When she entered his room she found him seated on the edge of his bed with the curtains drawn. The room was dark, gloomy and smelled of tired air and night sweats. "A no sunlight zone in here today or can I open a window?" she asked gently.

"Do as you please" came from a throat constantly hoarse from years of misusing alcohol, cigarettes and another night of yelling in his sleep.

She moved quickly across the room, pulled back the curtains and opened the window before he had a chance to change his mind. "Why do you say that?" she asked taking a moment to inhale the fresh June air. Lungs full, she turned and seated herself beside him. "It's such a beautiful day. Won't you come and sit by the window, if only for a few minutes?"

"Why? What difference do you think it'll make?"  he raised the pointer finger of his left hand to his temple and tapped. "There are times when the darkness is in here, there isn't any light, not behind curtains, not at the end of some ******* tunnel ..."  his voice trailed off  "... not anywhere."

A softly knitted "Oh, I see," slipped from her lips and trailed off upon a welcomed breeze that had entered through the open window. It waltzed around the room gathering as it swirled, carrying off their words, adding them to bits of red dust and scents of ocean, barbeque, and freshly mowed grass.  She loved the intrusion, the smells of the warm world just beyond these walls reminded her of the importance and value of small joys.

"I think I   should make you   a  paper moon," she spoke thoughtfully as though her idea were being pieced together as her words formed.  "Yes,   a paper moon,    one with a little red paper heart inside ... small enough to fit in your wallet   and on days when," he watched her struggle for the right words "... it's dark,   you'll have a backup  supply of light and love   right in your own back pocket."

"My God she's odd." he thought and said so. But it didn't seem to bother her in the slightest.  She just laughed and smiled then leaned in and added in a conspiratorial whisper "But I'm the very best sort of odd ..."

"Oh?" he asked with his first, almost smile of the day. "There are various sorts of odd?"

"Absolutely!"

"But you're the very best sort?"

"Absolutely!"

"And exactly what sort are you?"

"The harmless and crafty sort. Did I tell you?" She looked over her shoulders and then leaned in and whispered, "I can make the most wonderful paper moons?"

He turned his head away and facing the wall, he asked "Why are you so kind to me?"

"I have kindness in me to give and I believe you need it. So makes sense to give it, doesn't it?"

"There's lots of folks in this place needing kindness. Don't let me keep you."

She stood up, crossed to the door, turned and smiled, "Okay. Shall I come to see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah ... Why not?"

As she walked out into the hallway he called after her "Hey! Odd Duck, if you're feeling crafty tonight ... I'll take one of those paper moons of yours."

Dyslexia, mixed messages
Everything so confusing
Susceptible to misusing;
A 'B' becomes a 'D' instantaneously
And screws things up simultaneously.

A short trip from insanity to inanity.
Fiscal confuses with physical
Turning laudable into laughable
So quickly eyes can't disguise
Whether one means the skies
Or perhaps one means this guy's.

If read, confusion and contusion
Seem like quibbling over siblings
But things like read and read
Only different when they're said
Take un-signalled turns in the head
And instead come out backward,
Which should be spelled backword.

Muddling and confuddling resides
Issuing thundering broadsides,
Rendering and sundering any
Blundering inadept ineptitudes
Like some kind of garbled beatitudes.
Some take hostile attitudes.

Wheedling and wheeling away
Beetling and saying it wrong;
Maybe a song can be written
And some tongues can be bitten,
Taken aback by words taken back,
As the Raven said "Never more!"

By: Cedric McClester

Don’t accuse me of
Misusing this forum
When there’s enough
Evidence for me to draw on
Angry white folks
Are an oxymoron
Follow along
And we’ll explore on

White anger is
Clearly palpable
Especially when
It’s Incalculable
You would have thought
That they had an ear full
But now they’ve gone out
And bought the bull

They all claim to want
Their country back
But it hasn’t gone anywhere
And that’s a fact
If you don’t believe me
Ask any black
Or brown person who’s
Comes under attack

Things have changed
I’ll give ‘em that
And white privilege isn’t
Where it once was at
But just because it’s
Our turn at bat
Shouldn’t give ‘em
Cause to react







Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016.  All rights reserved.

So It’s CLEAR That ...“ ILLUSIONS “ ...  
Are Now Being ... PROVEN ... !!!  

So ... Alphabet Genders ...  
Are Now The TRENDSETTERS ... !!!  

From Stage To TV ....  
What Was Once Freely Deemed As Being OBSCENE ...  
Is Now Being Seen On ... Various Screens ... !!!  
  
Talking of Screening ....  
  
When It Comes To Policing Their Illusion Feeds Screaming ...  
Because of The Dealings of Police With NO Feelings ... !!!  
Who Really Give Beatings To Those They Be Deeming ...  
  
To Be ... BAD Human Beings ... !!!  
  
But Movements They’re Using PROVES That Their Illusion ...  
Leads To Their ABUSING The Truth For .... MISUSING ...  
Their Powers Like Cowards Who Live In DARK Towers ... !!!  
  
Like Those ... “ HOLDING POWER “ ... !!!  
Whose Truth Eludes Clues That Gives People Proof ...  
WITHOUT The Illusions That Keep Them From Movements ...  
  
Where They Stand In Court ...  
Due To Lies That DISTORT ...  
The Truth For Their Moves ...  
  
That KEEEP ON DECEIVING ...  
Like Paedophiles Teaching ILLUSIONS To Youth ...  
That Lead To Abuse That Then Hits The News ...  
  
Like ... Calls For Impeachment ...  
That Are ******* ... By Proceedings ...  
That CLEARLY NEED CLEANING ... !!!  
  
Their Illusions KEEP Sneaking Into Their Public Readings ...  
So Folks Be Believing Illusions Where Scheming ...  
And Payoffs Have Leanings ...
That STOPS Evidence From Leaking ... !!!  
  
Money Infusion Creates These Illusions ...  
That Truth Is What’s Used ... Inside of Courtrooms ...  
  
Where High Fliers Cash Is Used To Pull SCAMS ...  
Where Loopholes Are Found ... Due To Dollars And Pounds ...  
Instead of Strong Cases That Have ... SOLID Grounds ...  
  
Well Right About Now ....  
Illusions Surround And Drown Out The Sounds ...  
of Those Who Speak Out About How We’re CLOWNED ... !!!  
  
By Laws That Are Flawed CORRUPTED And BOUGHT ...  
By ... POWERFUL Guys Whose Money Now Buys ...  
  
FREEDOM From Truth With Water Tight Proof ... ?!?  
Because They Collude With Those In Courtrooms ...  
Before Things Are Heard And Public Observed ... !!!  
  
You’re Being ABSURD To Believe What Is Stirred ...  
In Pots Filled With Plots Like Those of ... Ridley Scott’s ... !!!  
  
Confusions Polluting ...  
MUCH MORE Than Young Students ... !!!!!!!!!!  
  
They’re Dealing In ... “ TALES “ ...  
For Illusions To Sail So The Truth Gets DERAILED ... !!!!!  
  
It’s Time For LESS LOOSENESS ... !!!!!  
And Corruption Where Movements Are Suitably NEUTERED ...  
  
For These Liars To Hide ... Behind Their ......  
  
...... “ Illusions “ ......

She doesn't need another mother
She needs a father
I wonder if she'd let me be just that
Even if I don't have a *****

I don't like misusing the word *****
Since clearly no money is involved
But if there was one without a cost
It would be her

She ****** her boyfriend
She ****** her ex-boyfriend
And her other ex-boyfriend
All in the same week

She ****** her best friend
She tried to hold my boyfriend's hand
And she rubbed on my leg
When she bought me a drink

I used to think we were alike
But now I see that I'm much older
She is grounded now
She has gone to her room

"Loving and *******
Are not the same thing
I hope that you know that"
I said to her and slammed the door

Everyone has the right to live
So why deny for freedom to get in?
You're an oppressor, you're heartless
You like misusing your power because you can
And how I wish you to be behind bars. Because
This is how I want the world to be.

A home for everyone to live and be happy
A voice for the voiceless
And a pen for the paper
This is how I want the world to be.

Everyone to be treated equally
Racism to be boycotted
The guilty ones to be sentenced to death or years in prison
This is how I want the world to be.

A playground for the children
Hell for the terrorists and
A smooth path for the truth
This is how I want the world to be.

Home Of ideas for the geniuses
To be awarded for their efforts
An encouragement to push them further
This is how I want the world to be.

A smile for the frowned faces
A hope for the dead dreams and
A light for the dark rich path
This is how I want the world to be.

A great leader to every nation
Who will shout "No!" To corruption
A friend and brother to every citizen for freedom to be enjoyed
This is how I want the world to be.

Misconceptions to be cleared
Truth to be told and
Minds to be opened
This is how I want the world to be.

Mothers to respected
Ladies to be valued and
Fathers to be listened to
This is how I want the world to be.

I love the pen because the tip never dulls,
so that when I make my point it always finely shows.
The pen can build up a man's identity,
and record all his pain,
take away every ounce drop of his energy,
or replenish it all the same.
Its product is dark but its intent clear,
so that each statement is properly and equally sincere.
Try to erase a pen and the ink will continue to show,
but meaning of words from a pencil is too easy to take back,
it's lead's one usefulness in the firmness it lacks.  
So I go above and beyond the status quo
and above and beyond intelligence still too few people know.
They say the power of the pen is mightier than the sword,
but few can explain why so many turn to violence and refuse an opening of diplomacy and proper expression's door.
Words can heal and words can break,
it is man's best invention and worst mistake.
A tool that causes wills to bend and wills to break.
Few get a skin thick enough to protect from its ache and it's sting,
 but all my life I've witnessed it's misusing.
So who do you think you are to try to talk me off and speak me down, cause especially on ability your portrayal of power turns around.
I think, therefore I am and intelligent, or at least in a path to go deeper, you all are always so quick to be shallow and look meaner.
When will others realize their easy philosophies don't work,
why settle for bitterness when understanding's not something easily shook.
True wisdom is solid, and wise truth is unbreakable,
and everyone who gains it gains skill to be more capable.
And everyone thinks to be a dreamer, but few will think of something to do while they're awake.
And even fewer realize how much their joy is at stake.
We all know for sure we live once so why throw it all away 
and turn down a heart brighter than the light of day.
And out of all these thoughts, know that most aren't new
and you would be foolish to think this is stuff I've just now spewed. This may look a lot but I've only just begun,
and you may not see the light of day that I will be done.

it's a wicked and twisted love
we know nothing but fragments of discarded clay
we try to put the pieces back together but we're as shaky as the weather
we allow the logic to flow out of brains, hoping to soon receive something worth the gains
but we go with the flow of our bodies in a sick and passionate rhythm, feeding the flesh that so easily entangles our beings
we destroy, we destroy, we destroy
in the inevitable repetition of our sin, we allow to happen, we allow it to win
you couldn't deny the satisfying feeling that overflows your nature, we can't hold out to be anything close to pure
you love my body under yours, as you rest your hands on the frame of my curves
my tongue in your mouth and my body pressed against yours, we can't take a stand we just open the drawers
exploring the beauty of this gift we're abusing, we consistently are misusing
can we even deny ourselves the simple pleasure, of having each other before the intended measure

i'm sorry
read in the most hollow voice
i'm used to people misusing its choice
is it a choice?
no?
am i wrong?
to think the person you are is gone
because what's an apology without no fear?
to admit your wrong, your at fault
your unclear

i'm stupid
we say to ourselves at night
looking back on a fight
saying maybe i could have handled this better
or maybe i should have wrote you a letter
tell me does it matter now?
looking behind what's already sound
"the pasts in the past"
that's what my mother says
laura you can't change it
if you did
you'd be dead

i'm misunderstood
said the girl in scarlet letters
how can anyone know who you are
it's just feathers
things that float in the air
eventually to be caught
how can anyone know
what they never even sought

i'm in love
we say when we finally learn the feeling
we share it with friends, family, when we're dreaming
it can be anything it wants
in any form it can
a chocolate box, some flowers
when he finally says "i can"
cause some need to overcome things
others need to listen
to their heart because sometimes

the beating of a feeling
needs to learn
to glisten

Adequate decision with dislodged thoughts
Cast in a subculture environment used to the urban area scuttled in the struggle
Wanting more commentary and needing more disclosure
Patronize with the wrong intentions to whom I care nothing for
Descriptions of deceptions inscribed by inner perceptions
Conclusion cause dissolution from exclusion through misusing parental advisories
Reserve  thoughts on the trophy with no solution is a contradiction
Impetuous actions causing lost interpretation on how you look at your surroundings
Adversary asking for a a fighting change.

Yeah, i'm walking in these streets, where there is violence and there is not enough to eat. Poverty stricken everyone is looking for their next fix and aboriginals get ticketed for being aboriginals. Life is full of despair, is there someone out there who cares, because rich snobs think they better, yeah they think they so neat. They couldn't even survive on welfare, or let alone survive in this hell hole, they to busy being political. Left side, right side, there doesn't seem to be a spectrum when people keep dying on these streets. It's a cold world with cold people to hot in themselves, if we all just came together we wouldn't even be in this mess. Crime is just a everyday thing, people cheat, people beat on each other, and it's not all about race but ignore me, shut me down, keep listening to your garbage beats. Governments control the world, we are all in the same boat, controlling us like they're some kind of doctoral Jesus to them we surrender and confess. Sorry I am not your puppet, government you may be the devil but I will not be your advocate. I will no longer let your lie's keep corrupting my mind, I am a self made man with a God given plan, so try to stop me, but the dice will no longer be in your hands. Hurt people in this hurt society, but all wounds can heal eventually, even something as catastrophic as this detriment. Walking down the road of pain, people trying to survive so bad they deemed insane, they've been detained, they've been banned, some try for a job but a lot get canned. Hard times in these rough neighbourhoods, and in reality there is no robin hood. Cold winters, scorching summers, begging for help, when about half of them will spend it on *****. Yeah, I see these things all the time as I walk down these streets, but there is organizations out there like hope mission that so some real good. So maybe there is some real hope after all, but we should do more for each other instead of just accusing and misusing.

so i was just kinda sittin in ma chair
..and i realized that
we don't have forever....
each day, each moment, each hr, each second
is like melting ******* ice....
i know its cray cray
but its real
we are not in eternity
we don't have forever
like one day im gonna ******* die
one day
and its like who am i living for right now....
what is being **** for boys?
what is that...
what is dressing to impress?
what is this lavish lifestyle we all chase?
what are cars?
this metal with wheels?
to have *** every day?
to have a billion boyfriends?
like idk
this is not life you guys...
i dont want to constantly be trying to less slutify myself so ******* view me as classy...
i don't want to feel like i need to wear all black and be hipster to feel well fitted...
like the **** is that
what are *****...
what is a nice body?
what is an ***....
what are all these things?
what is attention...
what are these things that are so called important?
huh
aspiring to be like a model
so boy's will think youre hot
so you can feel like totally great about yourself
than that boy misusing your body and you go tweet about eating icecream because youre so ******* heart broken
like **** the ideal...
**** this planned perfect lifestyle
really....
**** it
life is truly a mystery
to me atleast...
but who says that's not fun....

we use these symbols,
                                         a              to             z
to either invite our lives
into the silent affairs
to conjure images lived out
and forever twirling
as ballerinas on the river
to no known circle,
overly sentimental i guess,
and if, as if a donkey
over-laden with technique
on the steppes on Mongolia
we can recognise no such
experience taking place,
and sometimes, tooled boring
like a hammer's menial utility,
when we don't overly use
technique -
                  a digressive first
sentence,
               a bit like beginning
a sentence with a conjunction
by way of misusing punctuation -
some of us enshrine reality
with the a                  and         the z -
it's almost a personal geography
rather than a history,
but maybe both -
these peeps never escape reality,
they build shrines, buddha statues
of salt -
               they utilise these shorthand
symbols where ******* mattered -
but others utilise these symbols
for, a, complete, and, utter, lack,
of, activity - we've seen half of what
we'd like, we've experienced a quarter
of it to care - a slack of imagining
a fulfilment and a will to do so missing.
the higher tier is there with technique -
doubly un-experienced will
uses technique for a passport to claim
that the country POETRY exists
and you're a citizen of:
        we begin encoding sounds
because we see ourselves in a reel of
unfathomable non-suckling images,
obviously certain things are purely
inert and given ourselves there's the
inertia - we move, they don't -
but still we escape reality by encoding
sounds, kindred we are to
stage a conversation with tonnes of stones -
painters can hardly confer on
a realistic escapism -
we escape encoding sounds because
we didn't see a wish-fulfilling sentence
of images -
                   all muscles on board -
we did see a word / an image -
but we saw it without a sentence:
an attractive woman became so isolated
that the sentence or relationship are
passed by... by now i lost the plot
of how to continue / innovate -
there's hardly a reason to brush-up /
polish the table, given this article that
undergraduates hardly read of or if are found
reading are bound to never finishing books
on the readers' schedule - cinematic
practices took over... no one would watch
a movie where the only action was staged
centred around a man alone
in a chair, in a room, reading a book -
action sequence: a page was turned,
silence ensued - as bird-man said:
people want action!, explosions!,
yeah man... people hit the rock bottom
with existentialism having escaped the zenith
of the coliseum... then faking out morals
exposed by isolated cases of the continual brute
mingling with repressed sadism at the Bastille
being written.

Magical Thinking   By Chris
            
                                                       We have scarcely begun to slowly
                                                                 Climb the pit of species
                                                                                   evolution,
                                                               Let us not slide backwards into
                                                                                          oblivion
                                                                   Just for nothing, just as we
                                                                Began to see the light.
                                                                      Do our benefactors really
                                                                                        know what’s
                                                                               Best for us? What kind
                                                                                             of rights
                                                                                  Can a person get to
                                                                                               make
                                                                                     Decisions for
                                                                                                humanity?
                                                                                    Leaving our
                                                                                    questions and
                                                                       Anxieties underlying us.
                                                                                  Or people            
                                                             misusing instinct for using it to
                                                                  perceive threats instead of
                                                                              opportunities.

it's quite funy, isn't it?
how you can find yourself
in the arms of a devil.
misusing, abusing
you and you still fell
right for them
thinking they were angels
so many times before
you find an
innocent love.
that you find a love
that has been untanted
someone fresh and crisp
that loves you even if your
heart has been tainted.
this love is what i
now am blithe for
to see the bright eyes
looking at me with
admiration and endearment.

S - top glamorizing drug addiction
A- lcohol isn't the answer to the problem
Y- ouths should have self control
N - arcotics are illicit and dangerous if taken
O - h darling!
T- hink several times before acting out foolishly
O- verusing and misusing affects the body
D- rugs are bad and against the law
R - enew connection with God
U - nfollow negative people
G - o for the good ones
S - ave yourself before it's too late

Tell me where things went left, we’re supposed to be happy
Tried fighting for it but it’s going downhill sadly
Although we may need to part ways, my heart won’t let you go
Still deep down, I feel like this love could possibly grow
We’ve had our ups & downs but still I fight to keep this love alive
Sometimes, it’s just best to sit back & let time decide
It’s never a right time to say goodbye but I might have to
I see all of those good times & it’s something I wanna go back to
I haven’t lost faith in this love but maybe I should let go for a minute
Maybe we’ll meet again down the road, I’m sure this love hasn’t reached it’s limit
I gotta make a decision soon cause if I don’t then we’ll eventually get detached
We were flying high but unexpectedly, everything crashed
I listened to my heart & it told me it was time to leave
The pain I’m feeling within, it just can’t be relieved
I don’t want you to think it’s someone else, I just need some space
For me to gather my thoughts & get my head back in the right place
Stressed out & unable to think straight, mentally I’m losing it
Requesting my heart back for a while, tired of people misusing it
No love lost between us, this is what’s best for us both
And we never know, maybe this time apart will later bring us close
I don’t wanna break from this love & I don’t wanna walk away from us
And it hurts me to depart cause deep down, I indescribably love us

-Poetic Venom

I'm done with my pride
I'm done with holding back
I'm done trying to keep control
I'm done fighting with you

God you gave me a life
I'm done misusing it

I'm done running from you
I'm done thinking this life is mine
I'm done wasting my life
I'm done withholding my heart from you

I'm done with repentance

So give me the strength to complete my mission

The only way to overcome my struggles

Is by your strength

So take this sinner as you have before

And do something with his life

******* truth,
sour and sweet.
I lick your lies
the bittersweet myth
that falls from your lips.
I let you mislead me,
so you can feel less guilty
for misusing my flesh and bones
so you can feel pleasure.
silly boy.
too naive to realise
i know you feel nothing for me.
To these simple minded lovers
i have never been a person
all i am
is a hole to ****,
and a lemon to squeeze dry.
However
Vapid romancers
often forget
that with the sweetness of citrus
comes the sour cry.