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Morgan Feb 2014
i like the way the cut on your lip
tells all of your secrets,
before you get a chance
to open your mouth
and i like the way
it looks when it's
peaking through
a sea of cigarette smoke;
blood red and
framed in a mutated purple
that cut on the corner
of your bottom lip
just kind of
makes me wanna drink
RAJ NANDY Jan 2022
Friends, this is a short poem about naming of the mutated forms of Corona virus. So far the names of the variants ‘Delta’ and‘Omicron’ have been taken from the Greek Alphabets which are 24 in number. But the Chinese who gifted the World this deadly Corona virus, have around 20,000 charters for their use. Therefore, they have a wider option to choose from for naming the virus when it mutates  in China in the future. With Prayers For a Corona Free World, - Raj Nandy, New Delhi, 09 JAN. 2022

+NAMING THE CORONA VIRUS VARIANTS +

MY FRIEND ASKED ME ONLY THE OTHER DAY,
DO YOU KNOW THAT OMICORN VIRUS IS ALSO
SHOWING FLASHES OF DELTA VIRUS THESE
DAYS?
I TOLD HIM I ONLY KNOW THAT THE WORD
‘CORONA’ HAS BEEN DERIVED FROM THE
LATIN WORD FOR CROWN WHICH IS ‘CORONAM’,
AND THAT ON 11 FEB 2020 W.H.O. NAMED THIS
NEW DISEASE AS ‘COVID-19’, WHICH IS SAME
AS ‘CORONAM’.
IN THAT CASE HOW ABOUT THIS ‘DELTA’ AND
‘OMICRON’ MY FRIEND HAD ENQUIRED.
I TOLD HIM THAT THEY ARE MUTATED VARIANTS
OF CORONA, USING THE TWO LETTERS OF THE
GREEK ALPHABETS BETWEEN ALPHA AND OMEGA.
NOW MY FRIEND WAS AWARE THAT THERE ARE
24 LETTERS IN THE GREEK ALPHABETS.
SO 22 LETTERS ARE STILL LEFT TO CHOOSE FROM, -
AT A FUTURE DATE;
LETTERS LIKE BETA , GAMA, LAMDA, MU, SIGMA AND
UPSILON, AND SO ON.
BUT THIS VIRUS SHOULD DIE DOWN BY THAT TIME
I HAD HOPEFULLY REPLIED.
BETWEEN ALPHA AND OMEGA THERE WOULD BE
SUFFICIENT  TIME!

BUT IN CHINA THINGS ARE NOW GETTING
OUT OF CONTROL I HAVE HEARD.
EVEN FRUITS THERE ARE GETTING CONTAMINATED
WITH THEIR HOME- MADE VIRUS!
FOR THAT YOU NEED NOT WORRY AT ALL MY LEARNED
FRIEND HAD CONFIDENTLY REPLIED.
THE CHINESE HAVE MORE THAN 20,000 CHARACTERS
INSTEAD OF ALPHABETS, - ON THEIR SIDE!
BUT THE CHINESE HAVE TO KNOW ONLY BETWEEN
3000 AND 4000 CHARATERS FOR THEIR DAILY USAGE.
WITH ENOUGH CHARACTERS TO **** THEM SEVERAL
TIMES OVER, SHOULD THE VIRUS CONTINUE TO
MUTATE AND SPREAD!

WHILE I PRAYED FOR THIS CORONA VIRUS TO
DIE DOWN AND FADE,
WHICH HAS BADLY SHAKEN UP OUR WORLD
AS ON DATE;
BUT AS A POET I ALSO SEEKS ‘POETIC JUSTICE’
FROM THE GODS OVERHEAD, -
TO PUNISH THE COUNTRY RESPONSIBLE FOR
ITS INITIAL SPREAD!  AMEN!
                                    -RAJ NANDY, NEW DELHI.
My intention is to tell of bodies vanished
Or mutated; the "others" who made the mutations,
Will help me-or so I hope so-with a poem
That ceases with the world's ending,
Back to civilized days.

The Destruction

Before the deaths occurred, or vanishings, or mutations,
Civilization was, different, a diverse, organized, so called,
All intelligent and of moderate matter. Everything had its
Place, no creature nor object lay in contradictory conflict.
There was electricity to light dark rooms; clocks to keep
Track of time. The universe, worked well in harmony.
There was land and air and ocean.
Land for every creature to live on, and water
For fish to swim in, air for all the living to breathe,
Societies didn’t fight, a world finally repaired.
Forever at peace: within this utopia.
The gazelle lay beside the lion; the youth respected the elderly,
The strong and rich provided for the weak and poor.
A beings' lowest emotion was simple satisfaction.
Till "The Others" or alien nature,
Settled on earth and spread out.
They took children from their mothers, warriors from their
Towns, and eyeballs from their sockets.
From another planet they brought terrorization.
Beings so evolved, and out of the blatant blue,
Found humans and bound them to trees and poles.
Some forced fire down mortals' throats, and flesh,
Some leaped in air, claiming their human slaves in the
Highest planet.
Some hid their humans below the earth, their last wish
Ungranted, grasping for life, gasping for air.
Some did indescribable, grosser torments, with water as a weapon,
Lowest of all, some mutilated babies, tormented women, and
Ate their limbs for breakfast.

Whoever their god was, he demanded chaos,
First there was disorder on this earth, and then came
Their divisions, laws and uniformities.
In the end, there was no hope.
On every riverside blood discolored the waters,
Alien vegetation spread and rose under their new sun,
Surrounding our homes; alien pawns and their diseases.
Banks and stores where rummaged through and destroyed,
Sea monsters were fed fresh earthlings,
Women were made their ****** and experienced excruciating pains,
Spread apart from their families and friends.
We assembled prisons and torture chambers for our kind,
We were their precious jewels, and earth was their vault.
Our world was divided into three zones,
The north and held prisons and torture chambers,
The south now a feed ground of the growing aliens population
And in the center, a paradise with perfect seasons and organization.
The other zones held contaminated air that darkened
The earth, grease floating atop of waters,
And chemicals that instigated fires and explosions.
Towers and buildings were torn and disassembled,
And fear struck each soul every time
The Destructor called orders of
General *******.
We fought and argued with them but nothing good
Came of it for us, the aliens continued
To tear our universe apart.
     These boundaries taken away,
The stars went dim,
The hazardous mist covered their sparkle,
Fish were depressed of their water,
Beasts from their land, birds from the air.

But something else was decided,
By a man capable of thinking logically,
A man born to a civilized earth and to the middle class,
And now, recently and forever separated
From security, love and even his God-
Such destruction made with unknown forces,
Turned humans back to clay and running water.
All animals slowly expired; one man,
Alone and crazy, rose his face to his lost heaven.
"This is the end", he knew.
A parody of Ovid's Metamorphoses
RJ Days Jan 2017
Oh heroes of our youths, drawn in
splendid colors and panels or flying across
screens for sake of justice, you stars
of infinity and all realities sparing us
from the scourge of boredom while you
saved the day with ease, right vs wrong
clear as the cerulean sky, for you we pine!

Your winsome smiles soothed housewives
and maidens and doe-eyed youngsters
even as your capes became faded
and tattered and no longer were draped
over bedposts of intrepid lady reporters
willing to overlook, like we all did,
the familiarity of your unspectacled faces!

Your somber tongues gravely implored
us to redeem our grimy criminal cities,
lighting our fervor by spotlight against
darkest sky and even in the absence
of grappling hooks or alone with only
the latest fashionable belt, with no
hot young bird in the passenger seat
of your improbable nocturnal sports cars!

Your responsibilities and power came
all woven together, kept you from looking
out of any of your eyes the wrong way
either up or upside down, holding
the universe together with chivalry
and astute entomological acrobatics!

Your master kicks rivaled any other
rat or amphibian, and it was pure art
how you would karate chop through
our mutated melancholy, radical dudes
freeing us in every dimension
from maniacal brains and threats
of shredding our dignity like pizza cheese!

Your ecology was right as rain,
bio-available when we'd ring you up
and always giving back the power after
cleaning up some toxic mess, blowing
our adolescent minds as you flew about
kicking *** and spouting corny puns
long before oddly-dyed hair was trendy
and when Earth was a few degrees cooler!

We mourn you now more than ever,
remembering you with longing
as true villains appear, their green rocks
growing heavier and more radioactive,
their twisted jokes severing us
from one another, spewing venom,
bidding us conquer this land
and scorching the world for spite.

We mourn you now, our heroes, gone
but not forgotten and barely evoking
this nostalgic sense that you never left,
summoning within us the courage
to claim our inheritance, to finally discover
those ancient powers you've bequeathed;
to finally step up and save the world.
The Motherland May 2014
I feel her there sometimes
Sometimes silent, sometimes not

When she is silent the emptiness is
Oppressive
And makes my skull feel heavy and weak
And my thoughts clouded with
The groping fingers of all that ask,
"Are you okay?"

When she screams, I am filled
To the brim with panic and chaos
That spews from her maw in
Tangled, writhing masses

The sound is almost angelic.
Is she heavenly?

I have never seen her but I know what she looks like.
It is a knowing feeling, or an overexcited imagination?
Long, tangled black hair,
Something is caught in the snarls and curls.
A pale face whiter than bone,
Thin and fragile like china.

Hands clawed and twisted,
Feet swollen and scarred.
A white dress long in tatters slipping off the bony shoulder

please take me back,
take me home

I plead but there are no words
Comprehensible to my human
(However extraordinarily mutated)
Brain
That leave her cracked lips.
Nicole Jul 2019
23
If my younger self were still around
I wonder what they'd think of me
I can't help but think that
They'd be confused
They wouldn't recognize me as theirself
I'd be just another burnt out adult
Scary and unable to epathize
Enough to really understand me
I imagine I'd feel alone and anxious
Staring at this strange reflection
A mutated image
Warped in the rings of teardrops
That stain this puddle under my feet
Where did the curiosity go?
What about the intense emotions?
Any emotions really
I think I'd be afraid
To come face to face with
The future that is my present day

I know that there's so many things
Positive features of this life
That I never could have imagined then
I am still living and breathing
Taking care of myself
Loving and being loved so deeply
I didn't think I'd see 18
Let alone 23
And yet
I can't help but believe
That all the experiences that led me here
Would scare younger me
Enough to change my story
Because there were so many times
I wanted to
And sometimes
I still do

But I know I'm still growing
And there's still time for me
To learn who I am
To celebrate my flaws and strengths
To love myself wholeheartedly
To simply be me
It's just hard sometimes
Sam Temple Feb 2015
substantially thicker
media outlets slather
drivel
set to the top 40 hits of the day
over all propaganda
creating a sea of dis or misinformation
rising to just about the knee
forcing the masses to wade through
thick, dark, stinking lies –
perpetrators pretend to punish
philanthropists
in the public square
spouting insults such as
socialist
communist
or worst of all
constitutionalist
undeterred, many once manipulated
stand together
arm in arm
singing songs 65 years old
still under the yoke
of peaceful demonstration –
bent backs of immigrant workers
support affluent Caucasians
simply by being the focal point
of hate
these same well-off pale faces
place enormous strain
on said backs
while digging toes in deeper
stretching to the heavens
for that perfect corporate job –
lasting impressions of mutated idealism
sit battered on a polluted shoreline
tumbling until rounded
shining through the mundane
like a agate
on a black sand beach –
I can't change the way I was raised
But I can change what I believed
Though, it's like pulling away my skin
Because it was always a part of me
Shedding away the belief
That emotions are a burden
Don't tell them you feel this way
It's even worse when you're uncertain
Peeling away the belief
That people weren't meant to stay
If you depend on them more
They'll leave right away
Keep loved ones close
But only close to your walls
Don't let them see
What you've been through, at all
Peeling my skin like mutated armour
That slowly hardened and evolved
Only to expose my sensitive insides
That stings with each resolve
sleeplessnxghts Nov 2013
The sunlight finds a crevice in the blinds to peak through and nudge me as in lay asleep. I am awakened by the gentle touch of warmth resting upon my left eye and cheek. With my eyes still shut, the chirping of the birds is projected in a much more distinct sound. I can feel everything, it is all heightened. Nature rises from its slumber and begins the day's work. Soon enough the sun hits it's peak and I can no longer hide away in my bed, avoiding life. It is time to face the world head on, and show it some kindness. I hear there is such thing as good karma. It's not that I hate life, I just don't show it enough love. And I may tend to despise every person walking over others to climb the social ladder, but I do not neglect the beauty of Earth and it's reflections on a minority of the population. Sometimes, I feel as if nature is the only sense of sanity left in the world which has mutated into a world of insanity and anarchy. The clouds are hovering over my favorite dogwood tree just down below, at my favorite park. I try my best to not let the tight constrictions of my thoughts encumber me in my goal of appreciating all of life's offerings. Once I pass through another fleeting day, the sun disperses underneath the mountains before I get a chance to wave it goodbye. As the luminous moon introduces itself to the stars floating around in the sky, I fall into bed beside a man who shows me no affection. I drift off into a peaceful slumber as my pessimistic thoughts engulf my mind into a state of manic depression, and I hate everything all over again. I cannot wait until the sunlight warms my face the next morning. If I make it that far.
Eleanora Jun 2013
When I look in the mirror and I see nothing,
but they visualize the world in my curves
so I go with it.

I feel degraded, but their satisfaction somehow settles my nerves
more than I’ll ever admit.

There has to be something more than this,
but instead I’m stuck in a mutated bliss
that gives me less than a pinch of confidence,
which I savor as my self-significance...

...is this all I’m worth?
KM Abbott Sep 2016
A moth
        Rorshach
A rat head
        drooping
        seeping
        on
        a
      ­  spit
*******
        sliding off
        a bedpost
A T
A cross
        a convenience store
        back-lit display
        dissolving two-dimensional
        Charlie Brown
feed your dog
Misty
        shaking, dry-ice
        eyes
Find the bed and
        Close and rest on
        pillow lips
Slick black
        gossamer shell
                plastic
Red light
        warning—bleeding—beating
        always on
        always seeing
        always waiting
        But
what do I see?
        Glimpses
        manipulated mutated
I see nothing next
        to nothing.

                **** mirror.
jake aller Mar 2020
Corona Virus Poems


Index
The virus from hell is amused
End of the World
Every Day I Turn on the New
Irony Meters Blow Gaskets
Chaos
Corona Virus Fears Tanka
My Phobias Overwhelm Me
Fear Fills the Air
Is this the best we can get?
More Trouble Every Day
by pass the alarms spreading across the land
corona cinqku
Taking a Walk in the Corona Era
A lone man stands in an empty parking lot
hell of a world we live in ain’t it?
Pause for a moment amidst the media madness
I feel as if the whole world needs to be cancelled
The Virus King Cried
Bring out your dead
the Virus Came From Hell
The Delivery System of the Virus is Round
the corona virus is testing us all
the call goes out
the horsemen begin to ride
nature spirits revolts against humanity
Last Human on Island
Corona Virus Haiku
the virus came from hell
bring out your dead cries
Be Afraid  haiku
Death Comes Knocking
the virus from Hell haiku



the Virus from Hell is amused
the Virus from Hell is amused
laughing at the world’s panicked reaction
as it marches through the world unabated
infecting everyone in its wake
as the world awaits its fate
the virus smiles he ain’t no fake
he is the real deal
he is death itself
he is the end of the world
the grim reaper is smiling
god is silent as usual
the world’s leaders
dither and rather
as the economy craters
everyone hoping that God
will save them
the virus does not care
insults and orders do not work
the virus simply does its virus thing
infecting everyone it encounters
and thousands will die
equal opportunity offender
killing the rich and the poor alike
but more poor people
just so many more poor people
than the few billionaires
the virus smile
his work is done
and mankind is doomed
so be it the virus thinks




that is the way of the world
and the virus is the new king
of the world

End of the World
end of world
the fears world-wide
soon find us dead
bring out the dead
ll the dead die
death lies here there
there goes here
as death here comes
soon here death comes


Every Day I Turn on the News
debunking the bioweaapon conspiracy theories
every day I turn on the news
nothing but news about the virus
the virus from hell
the world is filled with fear
and my anxiety levels rise
every time I turn on the news
oh my god I say
we are all going to die
and I am so afraid
afraid of everyone
afraid of everything
dreading the latest news
and nothing relieves my fear
I watch the world
loosing its collective mind
wondering how much more of this
can  we all take
I scream out
Dear God save us all
god is silent as usual
and so I realized
we are doomed
perhaps it is the end times
perhaps not
I turn off the TV
try to stay calm
hoping the madness
will not overwhelm us all


Irony Meters Blow Gaskets
the Irony meter gasket
is blown again and again
with every statement
of our chaos president
and his endless surrogates
promoting the latest Presidential
on spot guidance by our great leader
that must be true
because our dear leader
says it is so
The President accuses his democratic rival
of being senile and needs to be in home
and will be run by his radical left allies
and the right wing media
echoes the presidential absurd comments
refusing to acknowledge
that the president himself
is rapidly fading into dementia
and his radical right cronies
are looting the government
driving out expertise
even in the midst of pandemic
Oh  yeah the irony meters
are blowing gaskets
every single day

Chaos
the world descends into chaos
as our world leaders
led by the chaos president
are overwhelmed
by the smallest
enemy of all
a simple virus
straight out of hell
blows through the crumbling
third world public health infrastructure
living proof of the decline of America
and no one is prepared
and panic ensures
with every Presidential tweet
as people don’t believe
a word he says
conspiracy rumors spread
everyone believes their own reality
as the world spins out of control
the chaos king is in his element
convince that only he knows
the deal
and everyone else
is iust a bit player
in the reality show
that he presides over
and so the rest of us
hunker down
just hoping for the best
as the panic and
chaos spreads faster
than the virus
are we doomed
can we survive
will God save us?
he is silent as always

Corona Virus Fears Tanka
Corona virus
lurking fears all around me
we all will die
the TV screaming nonstop
Must be afraid be afraid

My Phobias Overwhelm Me
lately I have become scared
of everything
the news scares me, the corona virus scares me, the presidential race scares me, fears of gun men in the street, terrorism, fears of getting sick, fears of dogs, fears of other people, fear of loosing money, fears of becoming demented old man, lost in his nightmares on the street just another invisible homeless *** in the end of his life
all these phobias overwhelm me
time to walk away from my fears
and realize
it will be alright
everything will be alright
As long as I have you
by my side

Fear Fills the Air

watching the news
CNNMSNBCFOXBBCKOREANNEWSJAPANESENEWSBLOOMBERABCCBSNBCGOOGLEA­PPLEREUTERSAPIRUSSIANTVCHINESTVFRENCHTV
blather on and on
the world is ending
pandemic is coming
we are going to die
and the fear grows
and the restrictions grow
travel comes to stop
the economy comes to  a stop
everyone is so afraid
our leaders fret
say that everything is fine
as the world enters
the second great depression
and we are faced
with the reality
all over the world
idiots in high places
the masters of the universe
are in charge
the internet spreads
the wildest rumors
must be true
I read it on the internet
the truth is lost
in the shuffle
no one believes anyone
everything thinks
that they know
it is all a conspiracy
the thought comes to mind
we are all so ’S….
end of the world
is upon us

is this the best we can get?
watching the news
one wonders
how in this great country
of ours
335 million people
among the most educated
richest people in the world
we can end up
with such idiots in high places
running out country?
these idiots in charge
no disrespect intended
both political parties
all corporations
and our institutions
except maybe the military
has been infected
by this virus
of epic incompetence
greed and indifference
to the general good
who loudly constantly proclaim
that they are Christians
while violating
all of Christ's teachings
Jesus if he came back
would scream out
I am not Christian
it is all about me
and mine
and you can go
to hell
if you dare to disagree
and so we tweet and titter
and watch the news
reading the latest rumors
and I wonder
if there is a god
or if there is a devil
and are we overwhelmed
by the dismal news
why can’t we have better
leaders
better people
in our leaders
around the world
has god abandoned us
are we in hell
or did god ever exist
except in our fevered imagination
will god save us all
or will the world
just go around the sun
indifferent to our pleas?
no answer
must watch the news
consumed by the need
to see the latest news
and so it goes
and I wake up
the sun is up
and the nightmares
fade away
until I watch the news
and the madness consumes
us all again and again
as the corona virus
marches on and on
consuming us all
as the world falls apart
these must be the end times
I hope I will be raptured away
even if I am not a Christian

More Trouble Every Day
The Old Zappa song plays
on in my head
every time I turn on the news
and see more trouble every day
no one can delay
the trouble coming every day
Frank Zappa died too soon
before the horrors of the Trump era
and the corona end of the world plague
that he would have foreseen
if he had lived on
he was truly a prophet
crying in the wildness
while making money
as an over night sensation
as he saw the slime
oozing out of the TV sets
we will do what we are told
for the rights to us have been sold
And Jesus too
has been sold
to the highest bidder
nothing but a business deal
in America
the land of the constant deal
and so I turn off the TV
and realize that
the torture never ends
the torture never ends

Trouble Every Day
more trouble every day  Frank Zappa
Well I'm about to get sick
From watchin' my TV
Been checkin' out the news
Until my eyeballs fail to see
I mean to say that every day
Is just another rotten mess
And when it's gonna change, my friends
Is anybody's guess
So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
Wednesday I watched the riot...
I seen the cops out on the street
Watched 'em throwin' rocks and stuff
And chokin' in the heat
Listened to reports
About the whisky passin' 'round
Seen the smoke & fire
And the market burnin' down
Watched while everybody
On his street would take a turn
To stomp and smash and bash and crash
And slash and bust…

The Torture Never Stops
Frank Zappa
torture never stops
Flies all green and buzzin'
In this dungeon of despair
Prisoners grumblin
**** they clothes
Scratch their matted hair
A tiny light from a window-hole
Hundred yards away
That all they ever get to know
'Bout the regular life in the day
'Bout the regular life in the day
Slime and rot and rats and snuck
***** on the floor
Fifty ugly soldier men
Holdin' spears by the iron door
Stinks so bad, stones are chokin'
Weepin' greenish drops
In the den where
The giant fire puffer works
And the torture never stops
The torture never stops, torture
The torture never stops
The torture never stops
Flies all green and buzzin'
In this dungeon of despair
An evil prince eats a steamin' pig
In a tumbers right near there
In the chambers right near there
He eats de snouts an trotters first!…


by pass the alarms spreading across the land
to bypass the alarms spreading across the land
the circuit breakers are breaking down
as the alarms go on and on
with the end of the world
the end days approaching
spreading the alarm far and wide

corona cinqku
corona
it came from hell
we must be all prepared
meet God


Taking a Walk in the Corona Era
every day I go for a walk
in the spring time woods
near my house
braving the weather
and the dreaded corona virus
wearing masks and gloves
keeping a distance
from anyone we encounter
that is life it seems
in the era of the corona virus
when will it end
no one knows
until then
I will brave the viral threat
and confront my fears
and walk in the park
with the love of my life
my bride my wife
by my side
in these challenging times
that is all we can do

A lone man stands in an empty parking lot

contemplating the new normal
social distancing run amuck
as fears of the corona super plague
plague the land
driving everyone inside
sheltering in place
afraid to go out
afraid of the deadly c virus

It is a hell of a world we live in ain’t it?
It is a hell of a world we live in ain’t it?
said the old man to me
sitting on a bench
in the park in the woods
as we both sought shelter
from the spreading chaos
the pandemic swirling around us
Yes I said
standing up
to enforce the proper distance
between us
don’t want to give the virus a chance
to spread between us
he smiled and said
relax I already went through it
I am fine and you will too

Pause for a moment amidst the media madness
Pause for a moment amidst the media madness
All around us fears and chaos
Unlike the end of the world approaching us
Sadness overcomes us dooming us to our fate
Every we go nothing but death awaits

I feel as if the whole world needs to be cancelled
I feel as if the whole worldneeds to be canceled
due to rough times ahead
due to the corona madness
and the thread of pure craziness
that it inspires in us all

The Virus King Cried

the virus king smiled
as the politicians lied
saying that the end was near
the virus king infected thousands more
and killed hundreds of people
the virus king sneered
as people panicked
and partied on the beach
the virus king infected thousands more
and killed hundreds of people
the virus king laughed
as the markets crashed
millions became unemployed
the virus king infected thousands more
and killed hundreds of people
the virus king roared
as the world slid into chaos
people turning on one another
the virus king infected thousands more
and killed hundreds of people
the virus king smirked
knowing that there was nothing
that they could do to stop
his army from infecting millions
and killing thousands
the virus King begin to realize
that soon there would be no one left
no one for his army to infect
as everyone was dying
the virus King yelled
remaining defiant
as civilization collapsed
billions were infected
millions died
the Virus King at last cried
when he saw that he was defeated
as one by one
people began to recover
and his reign of terror came to an end

Bring out your dead
the call bring out your dead
spreads around the world
as millions die
all over the world
the virus has spread
mutated and killed
all over the world
bring out your dead
the mournful cries
echoing in the wind
of the dying cities
mass starvation
as no is working
in the fields
as more people die
and the world spins
around the sun
with the politicians lying
and the dead still dying
as civilization dies
and humanity flee
into the wilderness
chased by the killer virus
straight down to hell

the Virus Came From Hell
the virus came from hell
straight out of a mad lab
born and raised in China
the virus spread from Dinah
all over to carolina
it spread from the lab
the mad virus of Hell
was mad as hell at humans
who it blamed for everything
seeing itself as cleansing everything
killing the world and everything
revenge against humans
perhaps virus came from God
more likely came from Satan
part of natures’ revenge
all designed to avenge
the damage to Stonehenge
virus came from Satan

The Delivery System of the Virus is Round
the delivery system of the virus is round
very simple system
the virus spreads around
and all must pay the price
death and destruction

the corona virus is testing us all

the corona virus
is testing us all
is it a plague
sent by God

if we have faith
will we recover

or it is beyond our control
the end of the world

does god hear our prayers
does god even exist

the virus from hell
spreads around the world

and test our faith
will god save us all

I have no answer
but perhaps if god exists

we will recover
from this plague
from hell



The call goes out

the call goes out
stay at home
to beat the dreaded c virus

will we live
or all die?

the four horse men ready to ride

the end of the world is upon us
as god unleashes the corona virus
which is spreading across the land

the four horse men are ready
to begin their grim journal
announcing the end of the world

the white horse comes first
offering peace and hope
in the midst of death
and despair

the red horse rides second
ushering in war
throughout the world
as nations turn on each other
and civil war looms

the Black Horse is ready
unleashing famine
on a starving world
as people stay at home
and food rots in the field

no one is able
to work any more
as the virus kills more
and more

the pale horse rides last
bringing death
in his wake

death all around us
as the virus kills us all
and civilization ends

the four horse men
have done their job
the virus finishes its reign of terror
and the few survivors
beging to recover

end of the world
came and went
and they are still alive
thanks to God

who remains silent
as always

nature spirits revolt against humanity

all around the world
nature's spirits
are on the move

the world is changing
as the nature's spirits
rise up
in revolt against humanity

is this the end time
is nature on revolt
against humanity

is this the end for us all
will the virus **** us all
will nature rise up
and **** us all?

Last Human on Island

Last human on an island
in the deep blue sea
nothing there
but death and destruction

virus all around
pandemic plague
Apocalyptic views
end of times
death of civilization




corona virus

corona virus
staying home waiting for death
Afraid everything  
the virus came from hell

the virus came from hell
staying home waiting for death
Afraid everything  
Bring Out Your Dead

bring out your dead cries
break out all over the world
we are waiting death



death comes knocking

death comes knocking
on our doorsteps tonight
will God hear prayers



be afraid afraid

be afraid afraid
Must be afraid every one
Death is at our door


The Virus Came From Hell


the virus came from Hell
ravaging the entire world
all waiting for death
my take on the corona virus pandemic  for more check out my blog, https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com
Ali Cronin May 2013
It was a hurricane
Like Katrina or Sandy
Come to spit me upon the shore

It was a tsunami
That shook my world
And mutated my soul

It was flooding rain
Engulfing my brain
And breaking my heart

It was the best and the worst
That I could have wished
It was the storm
That grew a rose
And drew blood
With its thorn
Jeremy Bean Aug 2013
Let us leave
the decaying cities of our forefathers.
Let us take our last steps upon their blood stained streets
and their disease ridden erections.
Let us return to the sunlight of the meadows
free from the shadows of the skyscrapers.
Let us choke down our last fill of chemically tainted drink.
Let us swallow their last mutated nourishment
Let us unclasp our hands from prayer
to the false gods
calling true spirituality fallacy
In a land where all are strangers
let us look into our neighbors eyes again.
Let us become masters of craft
and not jack of all trades
Let us find true happiness
and not substitute it with ignorant bliss
Let us pump blood back into
vacant, desolate hearts.

Let us destroy the voids within our souls
before it swallows humanity whole
STLR Oct 2016
The Future to me is Walking Toasters and Cars that glide and go faster than roller coaster

No more big screens nothing but virtual TVs & invisible gun holsters Art Displays still magnificence in portable posters.

Images and pictures are no longer created by hand
they are simply imagined then transferred to an electrical canvas through the movement of sand.

Homes are bought with credits in the digital lands all types of music played together with the mystical hands Medley's majestically moving the fans  

No more war or hate just peace by command it’s amazing to see the future in conceptual hands, emotional bangs and physical hangs dominated by the extraterrestrial man.

The future is no place for a regular man a scholar must know mathematics and formulas to simply understand love as a feeling and how it stands.

Vagabond walkers on the side of the technological wastelands
everything that's trash is thrown in biological waste cans then mutated among each other to create bands.
Piper Oct 2013
The time set aside for daily rebirth
mutated and reconstructed itself
left you trapped
in a moonless portal that
even microscopic fissures
couldn’t let light penetrate.

Your eyelids sealed with glue
licked shut like an envelope.
You claw at your bed sheets
'till the blood runs from
beneath your fingernails,

imprisoned in semi-consciousness
flooded with reminiscence
you splash about like a child
satin chains wrap you to your bed
in this haunting trance.

You awaken to hail reverberating
off the window panes
with a twinge in your solar plexus
like it is now a vacant chamber
and a bone-chilling perspiration
dripping down your spinal column.

Seems as if it’s been eight years
since your head hit the pillow
but it feels like
the barrel of a revolver pressed
to your temple
thunder cracks like gunshots
for delicate ears.
Trevor Gates Nov 2014
“Lucratively tedious” is what I called him.
That odd-ball collector of street-wise poets
Bulking up the lost devil anthologies while
Drowning black coffee with wordsmith stoics
Ready to deal a winning hand
at a moment’s notice.

The carnal majesty of fever blizzard erotica,
Stories penned with the sweat on oily skins.
The curtains of neon phantasmagoria
showcase psychosexual fiends and harlequins
Sing away raw vocal cord fire while I’m
dancing with Queens of glamorous sins.

He had that red tail swinging in the rain
She watched, the emissary of jaded seduction
With pale skin and leather lips abundant
Stroking hair full of snakes and destruction
With a wardrobe fit for 1980s metal scenes
As he in turn supplemented instruction.

It’s those bedlam vices creeping through the creases
Playing in our heads like a thousand movie reels
Desired fantasies mutated into corrupted realities
Shameful like the artificial chemicals we call meals
Some things need to be ruined to be appreciated
Just Like ol’ Lucy in her stiletto heels.
ET Bayliss Dec 2012
dear god i have seen you allow:
bodies to be blown up into bite sized pieces;
storms that leave people drowning and alone;
bombs that leave nations struggling for generations;
mutated cells to enter the body of a mother, wife, sister, daughter, aunt, cousin that ***** out her life so she cannot watch her daughter give birth to a beautiful boy, she will never be a grandmother.

see god
you are not a god
you are not worth the devotion of the millions that pray to you
god you are a sham
your religion is a sham
because if you were god
all this suffering and sadness in the world would never exist and i would still have my grandmother.
John Stevens Sep 2010
Author:  Kristen Stevens

Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Current mood:  feel like breaking the rules

I have this friend, we'll call her Kat,that insists I be social at least once a month. As per her request she wants all the Sept. birthdays to go have dinner. I think it's an excellent idea. We are fun girls. Although that many of us in a public setting together might make people run for cover. In addition to the social dinner, I went to a Pampered Chef party where Kat was also attending, yet she says it doesn't count as my social event for the month. She won't even count my upcoming trip as "social". Phooey on her! She has said "if I'm not there it doesn't count." I say she was there so it should count but apparently that rule is flexible.  So I will have 3 if not 4 outings in Sept. I don't know about this. I might go into overload.

I should try to make the point that any isolation I'm trying to achieve is merely training for the inevitable day when ___(fill in the blank) happens and we who are left are living in a post-apocalyptic wasteland.
[ASIDE:wow that sentence was long and overly complicated and run-on as well] I wonder if she would accept that response. " But Kat I'm trying to simulate how alone I will be when the majority of the people are dead, mutated, or the walking dead. I need to train, 2012 is fast approaching." Nah, she'll never buy it. sigh

Oh also there's a new training manual at work I think it's next month's staff rec. Everyone needs to supplement their Z.S.G. knowledge.
Brock Kawana Jul 2013
Hi, it's me again.
Craig.
I ask for you, the reader, to hang-out.
As you and your friends read with enjoyment at my miserable life that I have created.
You have read my ad a dozen times,
"Hey! My name is Craig and I just moved to this town and am looking for friends to hang out with.  I am interested in sports, talking about anything and going out at night.  I'm a relaxed guy who is into meeting new people."

The truth is:

I was never very good at sports.
I got one hit in my little league career that my Dad would forcefully take me to each game.
I never understood why reading was, "the stupid choice" as he would say whilst dragging me by the collar of my baseball jersey.
Instead of playing a sport where a young boy with not nearly respectable motor-skills
would proceed to hurl a ball as fast as he could at me.
But, when I got my one hit I stood there in shock and immediately
got thrown out before I even made it half way to first base.
That was stupid.

I do not really talk all that much.
In college they nick-named me, "****** Craig".
As you can tell, I did not go to Creative College University.
I liked studying and would spend most of my nights in the library fixated on chemical engineering.
I always thought if I studied hard enough I would be able to create my own friends through different variable compound genetics.
It did not work out.
And that is the story of how I mutated my gerbil...

I have no friends to go with at night, except Butterball.
She's my eight year-old tabby cat.
I tell her all the gossip in the world when we watch "The Soup" together.
Her personality is rather complacent.  
She does not understand the irony in Kanye West naming his child North.
I know she is just being stubborn.

I often Google search Images for Kate Upton.
She does not know it yet, but we are perfect for one another.
I can tell.
There is this feeling I get when I bring one of her pictures into photoshop
and count all the pixels that make up the perfect woman.
There are seventy-four pixels within the iris of her eye where her soul lies.
Each one unfolds into the life we will soon have one-day...

I order the same pastrami on rye sandwich
from the same deli
at the same time
every Tuesday and Friday of each week in hopes
that they will get excited when I walk in.
I leave them a dollar tip
each time
even though I am picking it up myself.
They still treat me like an average customer.
A simple nobody.

I have the face people want to punch.
I often will get into fights by simply just standing there.
It does not add up or make coherent sense.
It seems as though people revert back to primal instincts when they drink alcohol.
Suddenly this area in line at McDonald's is this guys main priority.
I politely back away and him and his five high-school buddies cut in front of me.

To the entire world:
I am ordinary.
There is nothing worse in this life than being ordinary.
But, to some person at some special point:
I will be extra-ordinary.
And I will have the appreciation for that person that no other one person can ever understand.
Because, that person who finds me will have saved a life.
My life will restart anew with that love.
Thank you.

Sincerely,
Craig-
*********
Location: Everywhere your eyes will judge.
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
JT Apr 2017
1981

They came in like diseased eagles; mutated
forms of those they wore on their chest and
with the change once again in the weather,
the ZOMO swooped in to quell what was
‘wrong’, what would bring them down. They
run in the streets as well as the miners,
running for different reasons and different
aims. I look down, out my window and see
the army helmets littering the street like rats.
            Police.          Rats.
I could no longer see a difference. My father
went to work that morning. I clutch my doll
knowing the chance of seeing him again is
            Miniscule.   Poor.
There is no more cereal in the cupboard;
there is no more cereal in the shop; there is
no more shop. The ZOMO set it on fire when the word

                          Solidarity

appeared in the window.
“We are closing the border for the safety of the People”
            Incorrect.     Unjustified.
For the safety of You, the Elite.
“Nine killed in mine shooting”
Which side?
Only the ZOMO carry guns.
            Fascism.       Communism.
I could no longer see a difference
Calvin Alden Mar 2016
if i knew that whichever way i travelled
i would still come back to this crossroads
would the journey matter at all? No,

unless i was not the same, carrying
the new disease of experience,
wisdom, and enlightened by perspective

then would this crossroads be the same,
if i were different? would i not pass on
this illness, to infect someone else?

if i knew that no matter where i journeyed
i would still return to this crossroads
would my travels matter at all? Perhaps

if i were changed, mutated
by the infection, with imagination,
creativity, and enlightened by relationships

then would this crossroads be the same,
if i were different? would i not pass
this blessing, to better someone else?

at a crossroads i sat, and pondered a syllogism
Madeysin May 2015
Perpetuate flyers, flowers minding their own business. The armed farmer grows his crops, unnaturally, factory wise. Genetically mutated agriculturally roasted. Mitosis, weeds stem cells. Winding blows back & forth. Back peddle into hardwood flooring. The view is great up here, giant machinery pretending to be trees. Hack the life out of bees, pollinated keepers keep secrets cause they're killers. These two eyes, see through me back to you.
Ohhhhhhhh myyyyy
Kari Feb 2015
Speak no more
Utter no more sentences
Vague, and context devoid through
Glass electric fixtures.
Stopped communication via
Frozen gears and halted processes
Dead progress, mutated metals.  
Sing no more, no more notes raised
Upward bound towards fleeting skies
Reigning over all we were.
Love no more, see no more
Begone like the invisible microwaves that
First created and ultimately possess you;
That zapped you full of life and color and now defy you.
Harrison Sim Oct 2011
I thought You were filled with light.
I was just a pathetic,
Unworthy,
Insignificant pupil,
Bathing and ravishing in
Your words,
Your warmth,
And your love.
I believed You to be illuminated from within.
And when I had You,
You were all I needed.
When I ate,
I thanked You.
When I prayed,
I praised You.
When I was miserable,
I would rest on my knees,
And plead, “Why?”
Because, You would know.
Then, one night, deep in prayer,
Exploring You,
Contemplating You,
Learning You,
Knowing You,
I realized that You were a mirror.
And the cracks showed.
My faith’s leaves witnessed winter.
As I birthed sorrow and grief,
I watched tears rain onto you,
And you looked into me, curiously.
I saw you not as a sun,
Not a reaction,
But the reflective plane
Of a false prophet. 
What you knew is what I knew,
Cleverly repackaged,
Recycled,
And chewed into something I had
Always wanted.
Your ideas,
The concepts you shared which I thought
To be yours alone,
Were mine.
I wanted to hear me,
But from someone else.
What do you know?
What you know,
Is what I know,
And I know nothing.
I am infantile in my perceptions,
Primitive in my conjecture,
Handicapped in my understanding.
I wanted to believe I was brilliant,
And you made me think I was,
By being me.
As you expressed concern,
The world trembled.
I tore away,
I realized I was drowning.
I was suffocating in an infinitely reiterating
Record of my own delusions.
The world was as I had seen it from birth,
But you dressed it up in prettier colors.
You saw my void.
You saw what I wanted,
And you acted the part.
I just didn’t realize I was writing your lines.
The euphoria was a hallow can,
And the truth rattled inside like an old penny.
Your smile turned crooked,
Your voice, once a song, was now a snarl.
Your arms, once a meadow, now vines,
Attempted to wrap around me.
The thorns scratched and tore
As the stalks tangled around my limbs,
Tore at my soul,
And attempted to ensnare my love.
I denied you, the vines burned away,
And the sheep’s clothing slipped off.
The banshee wailed,
And the night quivered.
This wolf,
Her mouth frothing with
Panic and anger,
Her fangs gleaming
With the light I now realize
I was emitting,
Her ears laid back,
Her face twisted and mutated
Into some horrifying grimace.
The melancholy turned to fear,
As this delicate,
Intricate flower’s petals fell off,
And the stem became a spear.
You attacked,
The offense of a thousand resentments
Pouring out into a bowl of confessions.
You wanted me dancing in your palm,
And you thought demoralizations
Would provide the beat.
Your claws raked against my ears
With the desperate scratches
Of a predator losing its meal.
I freed myself from the rusty,
Screeching jaws of an old trap
You’ve set before.
My fear,
Now contempt,
Now betrayal,
Now resolved.
I was done,
I was ready to eat my folly,
But, you wanted me to fast.
You wanted me in your future,
I wished you free of my past.
aurorahopes Feb 2015
My blood tastes like copper

Your blood tastes like copper coated lemons

Grown in an infested heart.

You.

Whose life is a broken record,

Playing the same sweet sonnet over and over and over, even

Shakespeare would weep for you.


My heart is a pendulum,

That swings open at the scent of love

But you.

Your heart is a soldier for your self-defeating thoughts,

To feel would be like

trying to scratch through ore with your fingernails.


For me, kindness is my ammunition

Without it, I’m weak

But to you.

Kindness is the mutated cousin of bitterness,

a foreign language you’ve not yet learnt to speak.


So while my heart hums along with the Universe’s old song,

Yours is wailing to breathe-


Because you, are so starved of love

you have forgotten how to eat.
Meka Boyle Apr 2011
My generations at a hold up
Force fed lies by society
We're never gonna grow up
Preoccupied with what we need
We subconsciously become devoured by greed
Insecurity is at the bottom of consumption
"You need __ to succeed"
We're the last of a dying breed
Materialistic makeup
Our genetics have mutated
We're no longer able to wake up
From the nightmare we've created
Identification has taken a new definition
You are what you posess
Unaware the latest trend is only repetition
Sheltered by our ignorant need
Progress is our main goal
Yet we're unsure of how to proceed
So instead we proclaim our need for change
While spending the last of our common sense
On a fee to enter this stage
Which acts as our cage
Locking us into society's game
It's the final act
Our last chance to fame
Marie-Chantal Sep 2014
Sway of a tree, rope hanging down.
Swing, crack, swing, feet graze the ground.
Scruffy old shoes, laces like the rope,
If only you had known that you still had so much hope

Pill Popper, made you feel.
You needed someone to know that this pain was real

Swing, crack, swing, go the branches above you
They called out with the wind and begged you not to
Mutated in the brain, lay the mangled secret
And it whispered to you softly *Keep it, keep it, keep it.
Owen Phillips Apr 2013
And nobody spoke for you
In the sea of tranquility
Only you were there, you didn't do, you didn't think,
You were
You are still
We are all there is
Everything that is
Shines within, shines without
Shines into you
Shines out from you
Spirits give you gifts when you listen for them
Windows play you music, play alive organic movies when you open them
Language clears your path for you
And language builds the world you live in
AM poems, based on dreams, mutated from the PM thoughts,
Which came from all that came to pass
And came to be that day
And all of that originated in the first ideas put forth in
AM poems, closing the loop,
And keeping us in wonder, how does this reality, all unreality, all hyperreality
Come to be and create itself and undo itself all at once?
Emily Jones Nov 2012
I stood there mute
Words harnessed in my throat ragging against the cage of reason
But I could not hurt you
The way you have hurt me

The deep trenches of doubt
The bleeding **** of shame
And the liquid infection of your love

My love
And its mutated form
Eatting away at the insides of my mind
Heart a black mass of rotted feted meat

But I could not hurt you
With the words I wanted to scream
With the torement of my soul
The tearing of scarred
Lightly burned insides

I could not wound you
With the lash of my angered tongue
The righteous injustice I have felt
For my own sake

I could not make you anguish
Over love like I have done
Still do and will do
Until you decide you don't need me

Even with you standing
There on in the gravel lot
Breath a warm cloud
And eyes sincere
Questioning me

Asking me
What you have done wrong
What you deserved to know

But I could not hurt you
With the truth
With the pretty lies
Or with honest half's

So I said nothing
Breathed deep
And tried not to cry
Looking away
Off into the setting sun

I could not hurt you

Warm lips on forehead crown
Hands touching
A face drawn in reluctant tears
A chest
The pleated plaid of button down
Steady rhythm of heart

I could not hurt you

My unpredictable rock
Tearing me down
Building me up
Tripping my tongue
And trapping my thought

I could not hurt you
My weakest spot.

— The End —