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If they were Mod
they'd be Hip
but they're not
they give Pip.

Ps.

HP Moderators suspended
my account for writing this.
(Can't be tried twice for same crime)
So, here it is again.

\/\/\/\/\/\/
WWW.WicklowWaterfordWexford@ZigZag.Com

I saw the best minds of my generation
Brutally isolated from those around them
Surrounded by series of boxes
Some meant to relay
Some meant to contain
All passively made to control

And past all of these boxes we can see
The place where the grass is greener
Where the trees are taller and stronger
Where the animals live
We call that place wilderness
Some say we used to call it home
Some others say that when we did
Life was nasty
Brutish
Short
Well
Many of these days I would prefer that to
Long
Meaningless
Alienated
But it really depends on ones perspective

See the problem with Civilization is that somewhere down the line someone has to take the full force of the trauma
Whether that’s indigenous people
Robbed of their land
Forced to work in Rare Earth Mineral mines
Or sweatshop factories in foreign countries
Or Facebook content moderators in Arizona
Forced to be subjected to violent murders and graphic *******
Their bathroom breaks are monitored
They are ordered to stop praying if it takes too long
All so your racist uncle can share news articles from PatriotPress.com
And people who haven’t interacted with you in years can wish you a happy birthday
This is the price we pay for our convenience
This is the passive acceptance that our comfort is more valuable than their lives
I heard that the first megamachine was made with human parts
Now we witness that machine cannibalize itself

What is the alternative to this concrete techno-Hell?
I hope that one day we cast off this Leviathan whose tentacles wrap around our necks
To live a life of lower standards but higher meanings and ambitions
To live simply
With nature and not at its expense
It’s not a past to return to
But a future we fight for
Where the grass will be greener
But only because
We let it grow

Iamb, iamb, iamb, I plod along
in verse predicting I could write a song.
To call upon the muse of higher power
pour some wine, kick off your shoes and glower.

While putting best foot forward, don't forget:
cliches are lines that surely **** your wit.
Reality, you say, bears greener grass?
Abstraction always steps across as crass.

It's true you could walk on like this for days.
Your meter's tight, it rarely ever strays.
But what of clever feet and sounds succinct?
If images are dull, your verse will stink,

As blossoms dance upon the redbud tree
and oceans fill your squid with ink of glee,
remember what your mama always said:
mixed metaphors fill readership with dread!

Say: sonics surely sock a swelling swale,
Entwined, the twisted tongues tell not your tale.
Less is always more, the teachers say.
If tricks you train, then please just walk away!

I never knew how hard it really was
to write a poem that might parade a buzz.
I thank you moderators and big brass
for sticking yours so fully up my ***!

There once was a man named Newborn,
whom wandered curiosly across the Earth-torn
grasses, and the rocky roads,
and was henceforth known as the Caveman goes..

These petty caveman with their bronze
constructed wheels and without their brains
had been crushed by wheels without restrain
and learned by wrote and learned to change.

From wicked wheels of stone and mud
came Spartan swords and arrows above;
From wild shields and monstrous blood
bubbiling through these savage doves..

Soon aftarwards began slavery,
whence after the fall of democracy,
learn to make a shape, a Triangle,
in the hardest way a man could handle.

A wild amount of years later
began the mystic age; Far greater,
or therefore known as the Mideveal
whence Magic was; and Poetry primevil...

The skies had Darkened with the age
of the Renaissance, and gunpow'drish stage
had begun the ruins of mankind
when the fair and the bold had intertwined..

The raging fires of agriculture
were then consumed by rage and stupid folklore
of preposterous ideas spoken by man
that have led us to the industrial span..

Soon after this atrocity,
began a most hideous animosity,
for this is Truth, and truth to be,
So listen well, for chanting fell,
but lies not to Earth nor to Man or Sea;

Humanity! Ha! The road you go is vain!
The world you seek
and the powerful peak
will be mashed with Human's refrain!

Humanity! Fools! Interwoven dictators
that have futile power,
yet invoke us every hour
into their moderators..

This path of knowledge and Wisdom
is a lie, for their is no Kingdom
that man may make that is perfection
for we always face things like discretion,
and If man cannot learn to end these cycles wild
then surely our infinite powers will be set at 'Mild'.

Man; The wisest thing I have in my life yet to say
is that you forever will from side to side sway,
and if you cannot open to all
then surely you are destined to fall!

Ugly negroid four eyed shaqila IS the original poem thief.
You think it's safe to post your poems on a site with no one in charge?
Think again you idiots. No site moderators and no administrators.
A Brit camping on twitter and ain't been on this site in months.
Check this link to see how many poems been removed. That would be ZERO!
All poems are still there and good luck with thinking site's deleting any poems.
http://hellopoetry.com/search/?q=****+YOU+POETRY+COMPUTER

The summer sun soars above the sultry sands…
Sorry your computer hit a problem
We will restart it for you
Error code – Gremlins from your latest Update.

Where was I?
The beach beams with delight…
You have Urgent Email
Your Paypal Account has been hacked
We need your bank details again
To protect you from villains.

Still on a standard gas rate?
You must shop around.
Use our fantastic cheap deal tracking
App.

Your internet provider technical department
Here.
Your computer is under attack
From Trojan Horse Maleficent-Ware.
You will lose internet connection in
Five hours unless…

We don’t provide cover for the drains
Under your house
Unless you take out
Our splendid insurance scheme.

Poetry Moderators here:
The word “Delight” is Not
Allowed here
As it has ****** Connotations
And your style breaches our
Community Rules.
Suggest instead:
The finely grained sandstone
Reflects Sol light
Making my mood
More adequate
By psychological standards.

Sorry your computer hit a problem.
I give up.

(NB No Moderators were hurt
During the typing of this poem,
As they usually act
After
It is posted).

Hehe.

Paul Butters

© PB 15\9\2020.

Feb 27


"Dear, complete and total *******, M Vogel:

Your account will be back to normal on Oct 27.
Because our moderators have reviewed and agreed with the members' concerns about your work, this suspension cannot be reconsidered.

Please read FAQs for more information..


Why did this happen?
'on ****, love.. and helping my cute as **** stepsister become relational.' was removed for 'Inappropriate/Obscene'
Jan 18

'on ****, love.. and helping my cute as **** stepsister become relational.' was removed for 'Inappropriate/Obscene'
Jan 18

'on ****, love.. and helping the cute as **** daughter of the woman who likes my father, become relational. (rethemotherfuck,post) [and ex(themotherofthefuck)splicit]' was removed for 'Inappropriate/Obscene'
52 seconds ago

'on ****, love.. and helping the cute as **** daughter of the woman who likes my father, become relational. (rethemotherfuck,post) [and ex(themotherofthefuck)splicit]' was removed for 'Inappropriate/Obscene'
52 seconds ago

'on ****, love.. and helping my cute as **** stepsister become relational. (rethemotherfuck,post)' was removed for 'Inappropriate/Obscene'
45 seconds ago

'on ****, love.. and helping my cute as **** stepsister become relational. (rethemotherfuck,post)' was removed for 'Inappropriate/Obscene'
45 seconds ago


Please try to get in line with the quality and moral character of all our other writers on the site, or kindly ****."

Love,
HP Moderation
(site de-scumbagging division)


"Hmmm..?"
~M Vogel

youtu.be/uXEUW792etk



"umm..
I created this for children;; Children... understand?"
~Elliot

youtu.be/54OYS_mZlBE

*******! *******!
Is there anybody left to recover the grandeur
The anger! The pain!
the lame and dull, the men are the same
The bright thrashing bull
For once I had a dream that there was something in my room
Which impregnated my mind with ferocious alien fauna
That slowly ate the inside of my skull and gave birth to live young
Which then went out and took over the minds of a whole generation
Of acid freaks, hipsters, and all manner of deluded youth
And bore in them more screaming demon like entities
That burn in great lakes and flowering fields
And crack the concrete with lava flow
with electric ecstasy
Rationale sold separately

The moderators saw the end was coming quickly in the gold rush that followed
And the cybernetic wave crashed on them without warning
And double barreled shotguns blasted through the eye sockets
Poking wires through the holes
That god forgot to fill
As we explored and we explored until all the rocks were overturned
And all we had for all our trouble was the fatal irony of life
Now without a purpose we’ve lost the will to fight
all the animals and beasts that come out in the night
For we stand on the pinnacle without glory, without right

In our leisure we become the social experiment
The ticking time bomb to calamity
On the brink of the purest clarity
The painted picture nigh complete
And as we stand on top our kingdom come the crowded throng below
With our hands out stretched as far as we will allow ourselves to go
For if there ever was a thing that history could teach
Is that it will be funny when we find the rotted peach

For as I sat in my room on that fateful night
you were standing there before me
And your narrow frame cast a shadow upon me
But I still loved you any way
As the wind blew the blinds back and they smacked against the frame
And I thought I grasped the essence before I forgot completely about it
And I slipped back blissfully into indifference

I arranged words to make them
massive, like ancient stone columns
that held high murals of creation myths.

Similes explain sensations:
home-like. Faulty, flickering
memory transmits knowledge upon live wires;
singes.

Subdued clickitties that clack across my keyboard
sit upon furniture and rugs brought in from the car as
progress languidly melts into position,

and impurities remain.

Hi everyone. I'd like to say a huge thank you to all who have shown their appreciation for my work so far.

Please would you be so kind as to click 'like' and 'follow' on my new Facebook page? Thank you so much for your continued support.

https://www.facebook.com/BenMerakiMusic

Moderators: All new works will continue to be published here first! But please feel free to tell me if this post is inappropriate.

I am a vegetarian, so, this
chicken from USA has as
much interest to me as a
a Spam/Advert.

Spam is made from ham,
though the HP moderators
accused me of promoting
it, yet, I have no *******!

My account was circumcised,
worse than anti semitism it
was, because they had the cheek
to graft it back on again.


Ps.

The moderators on this site
are typical of what America
has become, there is no freedom
of speech, now ******* and
unsubscribe me.