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"mutation" poems
# *This coup A new nation Loyal dedication Its classification* ‘Species procreation’ Prevents us from facing A human cessation selective mutation Gestation Creation It may help explaining The reasons Behaving *But not the foundation Or actions We’re basing* A simplification is “continuation” A checkbox left vacant *Fulfillment We’re chasing* We sweat Eyes are gazing A slight palpitation In need of hydration Complete excitation Without hesitation Intense stimulation **Deep urges Heart racing** *Driven By sensations* **Unbounded fixation Pelvic Undulations Clothing Perforations Time no longer wasting** ***This capitulation a Sanctification ****** gyrations Hint of *********** The bedroom Safe haven For what we are craving *Once out and displaying* It all had been taken Before Feeling vacant Freed imagination A resuscitation Indulged depravation A rhythm we’re setting The giving and getting **Destroying the bedding** All else I’m forgetting Entwined with each other Like entangled netting *Both on the same trip In a unified heading* Now comes the summation A true Revelation Final culmination Smash all expectations ***Volcanic eruption*** That lasts the duration **Loud gasp We unlock** Filled with gratification #
0
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 3:19 AM UTC
Undulated Desires
you sowed this **** into my brain... why do you even "think" that i want... you?              i, want your children... the meme-mutation is what i'm after...    and there are plenty of useful idiots to allow me to process the intermediating processes for: the sigma, "accomplishment"; which is unlike what infected mushroom's -   trance party track sounds like, outside of my own head. why do these people even think i'm after their genes of memes?                 i want, their infantile replicas...                  i want to craft a worthwhile curiosity, on a canvas, that that they call their gene replicas, children, and... like why called me... easy meat..                  einfachfleisch... what?     i'm not here for these news' anchors... i'm here for their children... nibble nibble nibble chew chow cow tow and main...             prawn crackers... ah... news anchors are easy targets...     slightly pointless 20x bulls eye honing devices... it's their children...      i want their children...     i want their cognition to become replica of wheelchair bound infirmaries; why?     oh... you know... football and wrestling, given the Qatar investment plan... the whole sport "thing" became a tad bit boring...   had to resort to secondary sources of entertainment; children of news anchors? the secondary, "last", albeit, the best resort;    schindler...   required a list,      to become reincarnated... and revive a **** a heartlessness of an reincarnation     anomaly:   i.e.: what, a limited number of people, to begin with?!      so the rest is primitive "a.i."? now i'm starting to think... thank the blue indians for their culinary innovations... but when it comes to their theology?                            **** 'em; did i advocate that? if i did... within what pronoun guarantee of advocacy? playing the grammar card...         which pronoun? the plural singular, or the singular plural, or the gender neutral?    thank you jean-paul sartre,      for the...  "i"... i simply love, this revised concept of a unit...            the revision clinging to the royalist affirmation of pronouns... i.e. 1 would say... so...          and 1... would, so, will, do so. **** the pronoun debate in Canadian politics...    if i have to resort to this? then i will... like your plain citizen...      may "i" speak within the confines, of the royal, one, given the example:    one might suppose... to be the former, and the current, highest, etiquette? gender neutrality of pronouns... last time i checked... one was never allowed pronoun stature... why not address this conundrum, to begin with?! oh, right... too late... too many loud mouths without a guillotine... so, basically, a cow fart's worth of argumentation.
0
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 11:51 PM UTC
I non Q
you sowed this **** into my brain... why do you even "think" that i want... you?              i, want your children... the meme-mutation is what i'm after...    and there are plenty of useful idiots to allow me to process the intermediating processes for: the sigma, "accomplishment"; which is unlike what infected mushroom's -   trance party track sounds like, outside of my own head. why do these people even think i'm after their genes of memes?                 i want, their infantile replicas...                  i want to craft a worthwhile curiosity, on a canvas, that that they call their gene replicas, children, and... like why called me... easy meat..                  einfachfleisch... what?     i'm not here for these news' anchors... i'm here for their children... nibble nibble nibble chew chow cow tow and main...             prawn crackers... ah... news anchors are easy targets...     slightly pointless 20x bulls eye honing devices... it's their children...      i want their children...     i want their cognition to become replica of wheelchair bound infirmaries; why?     oh... you know... football and wrestling, given the Qatar investment plan... the whole sport "thing" became a tad bit boring...   had to resort to secondary sources of entertainment; children of news anchors? the secondary, "last", albeit, the best resort;    schindler...   required a list,      to become reincarnated... and revive a **** a heartlessness of an reincarnation     anomaly:   i.e.: what, a limited number of people, to begin with?!      so the rest is primitive "a.i."? now i'm starting to think... thank the blue indians for their culinary innovations... but when it comes to their theology?                            **** 'em; did i advocate that? if i did... within what pronoun guarantee of advocacy? playing the grammar card...         which pronoun? the plural singular, or the singular plural, or the gender neutral?    thank you jean-paul sartre,      for the...  "i"... i simply love, this revised concept of a unit...            the revision clinging to the royalist affirmation of pronouns... i.e. 1 would say... so...          and 1... would, so, will, do so. **** the pronoun debate in Canadian politics...    if i have to resort to this? then i will... like your plain citizen...      may "i" speak within the confines, of the royal, one, given the example:    one might suppose... to be the former, and the current, highest, etiquette? gender neutrality of pronouns... last time i checked... one was never allowed pronoun stature... why not address this conundrum, to begin with?! oh, right... too late... too many loud mouths without a guillotine... so, basically, a cow fart's worth of argumentation.
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105
Ebola, coming from the Continent of our roots The WHO is exhausted by your contagion Nurses are leaving their posts, doctors are dying What can contain exponential growth? Not the money and debts of this bankrupt America We print more money and expect The world to stay the same, but it won’t Not after you Ebola, a profit mechanism Vaccines, for each strain and mutation? Ebola, your incubation period is too long Your death-conformity is too high How can you possibly be natural? Man-made, racially biased, targeting The weak, the poor, the masses Ebola, a colonial rampage in your DNA I call your bluff, genocide, Genocide! Obama doesn’t mind Ebola, flights stay open New epicenters for outbreaks arrive The pundits say it’s already too late Fluids or air-droplets, both, who is to say? The CDC seems strangely apathetic The UN is oddly apologetic Ebola, are you ready to decimate The white man, as you have the black?
0
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 10:41 AM UTC
Ebola, Puppet of Propaganda
It's been a month since the illness started, catching like wildfire, the world's departed it started off with the vast mutation of a microbe that struck the nation the pain it's caused, the lives it's destroyed people tried to hide, they just cant avoid that cloud that hovers over, thats the illness
0
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
The illness
She has dated boys before. Boys who beat her Boys who ***** her Boys who did nothing wrong at all But still did not feel "right." One of them made fun of her Told her she must be some kind of lesbian (As if that was an insult) If she did not want to have *** with him. She smiled something sad on the outside To deflect To forget To hide behind. She thought And what if I am? What does that make me? It's a question that wanders into the unexplored ruins Of an unkempt mind. A boy meets boy love story is next on the list. They both play football And think that means they must both be "players." Really, they're falling for each other With one swift and concise movement. Boy A cannot tell his parents As he comes from a rowdy and traditional Italian line. Boy B is getting fed up And yet waits, patiently For his one and only to express this flaring emotion A love, unexpressed. Their families, churches and culture Thinks they can change who they are. They use different, cruel tactics. Beat the gay out of him Excommunication *Force her to have *** and she will turn straight* You tell the world that they are an Abomination Atrocity Mutation And yet, I ask this. If the Bible was a Holy deity's, a God's message of eternal love As any good Christian, as I am supposed to be, would proclaim Then how can it be used to justify Acts of such hate and genocide? "I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak" (Matthew 12:36) I hope you are prepared for your Judgment Day.
0
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 7:27 PM UTC
Love, Unexpressed
She has dated boys before. Boys who beat her Boys who ***** her Boys who did nothing wrong at all But still did not feel "right." One of them made fun of her Told her she must be some kind of lesbian (As if that was an insult) If she did not want to have *** with him. She smiled something sad on the outside To deflect To forget To hide behind. She thought And what if I am? What does that make me? It's a question that wanders into the unexplored ruins Of an unkempt mind. A boy meets boy love story is next on the list. They both play football And think that means they must both be "players." Really, they're falling for each other With one swift and concise movement. Boy A cannot tell his parents As he comes from a rowdy and traditional Italian line. Boy B is getting fed up And yet waits, patiently For his one and only to express this flaring emotion A love, unexpressed. Their families, churches and culture Thinks they can change who they are. They use different, cruel tactics. Beat the gay out of him Excommunication *Force her to have *** and she will turn straight* You tell the world that they are an Abomination Atrocity Mutation And yet, I ask this. If the Bible was a Holy deity's, a God's message of eternal love As any good Christian, as I am supposed to be, would proclaim Then how can it be used to justify Acts of such hate and genocide? "I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak" (Matthew 12:36) I hope you are prepared for your Judgment Day.
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47
Now, what the hell has just happened to me?!, I went to sleep and felt quite human, Alarm goes off, opened my eyes to see, Two mounds where my little chest should be. My ****** armpits have just sprouted some fuzz, There's some hair where my lady garden was, My beautiful blonde hair is all goopy and limp, And my face has a likeness to a spotty chimp. When i went to bed last night, i loved my dear mother, Now, the thought of a cuddle makes me run and take cover, Ant lanky Jimmy Owens used to repulse me, no end, But now all i want is to be his girlfriend?!, I suppose i will need to start wearing a bra, And i'll have to smile through the taunts from grandma, And my father will watch every move that i make, And i'll have to conform, for my sanity's sake. Well, tonight, when i lay down my spotty wee head, I'll lie here and wait for the morning, with dread, All these transformations, all yuk and all grease, O lord, will i make it through in one piece?!. c eileen mcgreevy 2009
0
Nov 20, 2009
Nov 20, 2009 at 5:50 AM UTC
Teen Mutation
If Doraemon is real, I'll use his 'Hopter' to go above the clouds Shout all my pains and get out from the crowd, Wait for the rain and see the lightning strike the ground. If Doraemon is real, I'll use his 'anywhere door' to travel around the world Oh, I'll bring my wardrobe, my lover, my bed and even my dog With one step, I can go anywhere and  write it on my blog. If Doraemon is real, I'll use his 'copying toast' to get different certifications I'll memorize Merriam, Websters, Harry Potter and have an oration I'll be the smartest person alive and wait I can feel the mutation! If Doraemon is real, I'll use his 'dress up camera' to get all all the dress that I want I'm going to wear Gucci, Prada, Channel and even Dolce and Gabbana I'll be more than the Hollywood stars, yeah I don't need Santa. But Doraemon is not real, He's not even mine, he is Nobita's childhood best friend. That show taught me a great lesson - you don't need any gadget to be happy, to have friends, to be satisfied or to feel loved.
0
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 10:29 PM UTC
Doraemon
It's an act of manipulation manipulation of a whole nation nation built on bad foundation foundation of lies and discrimination discrimination that led to creation creation of all this devastation devastation leading to mutation mutation that's based on frustration frustration of those in anticipation anticipation of expiration expiration of our habitation habitation that needs adoration adoration of a dream
0
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
Adoration of a Dream
maybe the reason why I dislike Batman and love the X-Men is because Batman, gifted with money and power, chose his struggle the X-Men were forced- they had mutanthood shoved upon them and had to be crucifed as society pushed them away hiding in fear and hatred of what they must face the X-Men learn to adapt, they take what they have and choose to be the better man, or the worse man, but they take the fight that was given them and the freakery that they were born with, and they adapt. Batman, however, was born normally, did not have to run or hide, for he was privileged, and he walked, walked straight into freakery he took the burden others were throttled with and laid it upon his own shoulders, crying 'woe is me' whilst he went about the noble task of hero-dom he made himself a fancy suit- he had been given normalcy and he invented freakery in order to claim sacrifice he did not need to give himself- he was an ordinary man that laid down his life. The reason why that bothers me so much is that ordinary men do not need to lay down their lives they are not called to that future it is not in their cards he claimed his heroic deeds and choose to throw himself into the furnace flames- while others suffered unwillingly he chose it he took their pain and made it less 'see, I can do it! anyone can do it!' what makes the X-Men special is that their mutation isn't 'deal with pain of superheroism' it's some other power, but they have to learn how to be ostracized not anyone can do that- they had to their survival depended on it Batman walked into the struggle of their lives and declared himself a hero though, for some, the declaration was not in their words or actions, it was written into their DNA, it was marked in their skin by the brands of their oppressors, it was pounded into every heartbeat shocked with electricity they fought and hid their heroism their whole lives for they knew- it was not something to love, it was something to suffer with- and Batman took that, he took the heroism and he projected it across the night sky, declaring, "I am Batman", and it is something he can escape from, he can walk away, he can walk away, he can walk away, and yes, he chooses not to, but what he does is steal from those who cannot walk away his heroism takes the nails in the hands of mutants and orphans and masochistically drives them into his own palms crying whilst doing it. rather than being forced to adapt and look normal, he puts on a suit and prances through the night dramatically he takes everything sufferable about being a hero and tosses it out the window- he takes everything noble about being a hero and growls it in a dramatic voice, posing, in his fancy suit, when he could be safe at home. why would you choose this why would anyone choose this be thankful for your ability to be safe, that is the real superpower- the ability to be normal, to have a home to go back to, to have a normal purpose and a normal life, and Batman is completely, utterly, ungrateful- he wishes there were more, while those born with 'gifts' would be satisfied with even less.
0
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC
batman
maybe the reason why I dislike Batman and love the X-Men is because Batman, gifted with money and power, chose his struggle the X-Men were forced- they had mutanthood shoved upon them and had to be crucifed as society pushed them away hiding in fear and hatred of what they must face the X-Men learn to adapt, they take what they have and choose to be the better man, or the worse man, but they take the fight that was given them and the freakery that they were born with, and they adapt. Batman, however, was born normally, did not have to run or hide, for he was privileged, and he walked, walked straight into freakery he took the burden others were throttled with and laid it upon his own shoulders, crying 'woe is me' whilst he went about the noble task of hero-dom he made himself a fancy suit- he had been given normalcy and he invented freakery in order to claim sacrifice he did not need to give himself- he was an ordinary man that laid down his life. The reason why that bothers me so much is that ordinary men do not need to lay down their lives they are not called to that future it is not in their cards he claimed his heroic deeds and choose to throw himself into the furnace flames- while others suffered unwillingly he chose it he took their pain and made it less 'see, I can do it! anyone can do it!' what makes the X-Men special is that their mutation isn't 'deal with pain of superheroism' it's some other power, but they have to learn how to be ostracized not anyone can do that- they had to their survival depended on it Batman walked into the struggle of their lives and declared himself a hero though, for some, the declaration was not in their words or actions, it was written into their DNA, it was marked in their skin by the brands of their oppressors, it was pounded into every heartbeat shocked with electricity they fought and hid their heroism their whole lives for they knew- it was not something to love, it was something to suffer with- and Batman took that, he took the heroism and he projected it across the night sky, declaring, "I am Batman", and it is something he can escape from, he can walk away, he can walk away, he can walk away, and yes, he chooses not to, but what he does is steal from those who cannot walk away his heroism takes the nails in the hands of mutants and orphans and masochistically drives them into his own palms crying whilst doing it. rather than being forced to adapt and look normal, he puts on a suit and prances through the night dramatically he takes everything sufferable about being a hero and tosses it out the window- he takes everything noble about being a hero and growls it in a dramatic voice, posing, in his fancy suit, when he could be safe at home. why would you choose this why would anyone choose this be thankful for your ability to be safe, that is the real superpower- the ability to be normal, to have a home to go back to, to have a normal purpose and a normal life, and Batman is completely, utterly, ungrateful- he wishes there were more, while those born with 'gifts' would be satisfied with even less.
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70
(a satirical pop at the Illuminati) It's time to slay fatted consumer cows It's time to fumigate the Great Unwashed; To sow mutation's seeds behind the ploughs To see the dullard's dreams forever quashed. How movingly they pray not to be harmed! How doggedly they work to make a wage! How prettily they line up to be farmed, Yet, how they long to be at centre stage! The Useless Eaters eat their pizzas deep, Their double fries and creamy mayonnaise; Produce only some methane while asleep, And fodder for landfill, throughout their days. It's time for the superiors to win; Unleash the virus, let the cull begin.
0
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 10:15 PM UTC
Illuminati Party
my eyes they do wonder more than you will ever know will they always tend to find themeselves in thoughts unpredicted by even myself who could probe so deep, mingle so lightly with touches and sighs not meant to come out they way they do but even more so much more then what ill ever draw with my finger love dipped sand gripped oh autumn summer fall gray September red winter sepia summer under leaves and leaves ocean the ocean never changed where I felt touch as a woman released my first sighs as a woman doing bad so bad under things that were so beautiful that was so beautiful I mix and walk back I must be a woman to walk this way and to look into all of your eyes and feel nothing and then feel everything alcohol white fresh and tastes like spring under the imagination of so many things I can go on forever you know about cups lovers creeps echos and black ******* that helps me flow and I still bend to weak minds and words I still bend to eyes fleeting destruction to eyes who try to lie about everything make believe they are something dieing inside from nothing bleeding tape around mouths with tongues that are too narrow for proper speech i still bend to beauty and love for the sake of -- love or anything of such kind meanings lost mixed and revealed through each other with such discreet difference in between and I feel the difference and the contrast only makes me fall deeper into things that i don't know once discovered I grab my scarf wrap it around my neck with a thin cancer mutation in between my fingers select my watch drape it around my wrist put all belongings where they belong and check out into the next hotel of malicious life tones
0
Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 7:53 PM UTC
Hostel
my eyes they do wonder more than you will ever know will they always tend to find themeselves in thoughts unpredicted by even myself who could probe so deep, mingle so lightly with touches and sighs not meant to come out they way they do but even more so much more then what ill ever draw with my finger love dipped sand gripped oh autumn summer fall gray September red winter sepia summer under leaves and leaves ocean the ocean never changed where I felt touch as a woman released my first sighs as a woman doing bad so bad under things that were so beautiful that was so beautiful I mix and walk back I must be a woman to walk this way and to look into all of your eyes and feel nothing and then feel everything alcohol white fresh and tastes like spring under the imagination of so many things I can go on forever you know about cups lovers creeps echos and black ******* that helps me flow and I still bend to weak minds and words I still bend to eyes fleeting destruction to eyes who try to lie about everything make believe they are something dieing inside from nothing bleeding tape around mouths with tongues that are too narrow for proper speech i still bend to beauty and love for the sake of -- love or anything of such kind meanings lost mixed and revealed through each other with such discreet difference in between and I feel the difference and the contrast only makes me fall deeper into things that i don't know once discovered I grab my scarf wrap it around my neck with a thin cancer mutation in between my fingers select my watch drape it around my wrist put all belongings where they belong and check out into the next hotel of malicious life tones
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55
*Spread love like an infectious disease, To rid malice, strife and negativity with ease, Let your light shine like the summers rays, Embracing your fellow man creating better days, For starters pay it forward without acknowledgement or compensation, Spread this germ generously and watch the loving mutation.* Love Wins…..
0
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 10:02 AM UTC
Spread Love
they say we are all made up of stardust; an evolved specie from the distant galaxies. but I think you're a genetic mutation, an incomplete evolution for I could still see the stars reflected on your skin dancing through your fingertips and swimming in your eyes.
0
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 3:11 AM UTC
incomplete evolution
My worst enemy and tireless companion finally came to my door last night. As I slept away the time of day And killed my poor friend Time He traveled closer to my home. As I slowly cowered in the face of fear And realized my mistake too late As I chose to make a silly choice He quietly opened the door. Shame came in but didn't stop And with every tear that welled up inside He crawled in hot into my cheeks. As the salty drops burned away my skin He then moved on down to my throat And choked me up till air was gone. I gagged and shook, begging him to go Openly admitting my sin But Shame knew he could do more And as I watched my world crumble He eagerly attacked my heart. As he dripped down to the hearth He triumphed with his final mutation. The pain of Shame is nothing Next to that of his brother Humiliation. There, in the privacy of my soul He slaughtered my Pride with a blunted blade As Sloth cowered in the corner. When the room was red he finally paused With a smile on his face at the lesson he left. As he exited Responsibility came in instead And from the door watched with sad eyes Waiting for me to rise and finally apologise.
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Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC
Shame
*Elemental Metamorphosis & Transcendental Milestones, Sempiternal Origamis Of Her Temperamental Clones, Spiraling Perpetuities & Her Sacrosanct Fortitude, Procreating Tipsy Ruptures In Her Permeating Solitude, Perplexed Momentum & Her Outlandish Constellations, Nuclear Decay Of Her Masked Radiations, Verbal Shadows & Her Tranquil Ascendance, Encasing Her Tears In Liquefied Transcendence, Yearning Oddities & Entropic Oceans, Vitalizing Inexorable Emotions Into Phosphorescent Potions, An Hourglass Existence Of Her Fabricated Virility, Dwelling In Quantum Ascents Of Ardent Agility, Silver Ghosts Of Her Prismatic Abyss, Convicting Glass Houses In Her Ecstatic Bliss, Telepathic Shades & Hollow Palisades, Detrimental Novelists On Uncharted Crusades, Pernicious Scars In Her Profound Gaze, Erupting Genesis Inside Her Dimensional Maze, Perplexed Periphery & Digital Fictions, Annexed By Her Hourglass Depictions, Breakdown Sanity & Her Concealed Screams, Lifelike Dewdrops In Her Visionary Dreams, Satellite Searchlights & Love//Less Progenic Mutation, Paralyzed Sunlight Sparking Genetic Alteration, Monochromatic Streams & Cinematic Realms, Static Screams Of Her Toxic Schemes. - 05:43 AM -*
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Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 11:18 PM UTC
Elemental Metamorphosis & Transcendental Milestones
we always have perception open mindedness an idea us humans created to feel as if theres some hope in becoming pure but theres no pure people if theres still earth beneath my feet to remind me of the dirt of our past and present and pupils differently sized to remind me of our future and blood that pulses off beat to trigger a genetic passover to remind me of the nature of it all that imperfection and mutation drive evolution that we are essentially ****** up
0
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
openminded
lack of motivation no inspiration not even an ambition no room for admiration nothing but frustration pure pain and isolation not enough justification or a single explanation heck I'm just 'nother genetic mutation with no feelings and no emotions so how do you expect me to write poetry of pure perfection? -djs
0
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 7:15 PM UTC
imperfections
It happened, once only, on an African plain. A subtle mutation and everything changed. On Chromosome Seven A new protein emerged. A peripatic primate Spoke her first word. There were apes that were stronger or had larger brains. But it was **** sapiens who gave all things names. The mutation of speech, an advantage unknown,. soon reduced competition to a mere pile of bones. Our forebears surged forth From the African plains Some wandered to China, others summered in Spain. As elders died off, Their knowledge survived Through oral transmission til the advent of scribes. Now each human mother awaits baby’s first word It’s the price of admission to the tribe of the verb.
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Jan 27, 2012
Jan 27, 2012 at 10:57 PM UTC
The Tribe of the Verb
Again life cycles to a clutter, ideas thought through don't anymore seem as though, even when expressed aloud and not within. Maybe they're right, my ignorance is only withholding wonders I struggle to actually see. Hypocritically, I find importance in self enrichment and observing from afar. and yet even from a distance you feel so close. Is this an evolution or is it just another mutation. Obscure out of any cultural norm, I resonate impairing those who hear my words. This constant metamorphosis has left me staring in the mirror for hours, searching for the presence of my subjected form. Yet, while I peer into the interworkings of my reflection to observe what I actually see... With all truth, it holds a boy, an awkwardly timid boy. Insecurely gazing back into the pupils of his reality. He's bellowing inside his submerged mind. Subconsciously Blurting: "Do not turn back, their are cyclones that await. And all that is required to overcome this task is to go forth without pondering times long gone... So here I am, engaulphed in tidal winds. I must break loose; grow, starting from below.
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Jul 18, 2011
Jul 18, 2011 at 10:55 PM UTC
Reflections of a Cyclone.
I would like say thank you to the freaks Thank you to those who chose the road not taken. You are the leaders, the trendsetters. Even with fear your curiosity was stronger. It is them that have brought us into the future It is the mutants that have evolved us. Through a random mutation we are **** Sapiens So I say thank you to the freaks
0
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
Thank you to the Freaks
They talk of short-lived pleasure--be it so-- Pain dies as quickly; stern, hard-featured pain Expires, and lets her weary prisoner go. The fiercest agonies have shortest reign; And after dreams of horror, comes again The welcome morning with its rays of peace. Oblivion, softly wiping out the stain, Makes the strong secret pangs of pain to cease: Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase Are fruits of innocence and blessedness; Thus joy, o'erborne and bound, doth still release His young limbs from the chains that round him press. Weep not that the world changes--did it keep A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep.
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2.3k
Mutation
The heat of the tequila sunrise On the seashore of Cape Creus Melts flaccid pocket watches, Soft as overripe cheese; The dreamscape's permanence dissolves Before distant amber cliffs; On sweet, rotting flesh termites sup; A time fly lands. The monstrous fleshy mutation Across the seascape draped - Deformed, distorted, Disfigured with decay; Centipede shades lash alien flesh And sluggish tongue oozes From the snout of the surreal Self-spectre of Salvador's craft; Persistence of Memory.
0
Jun 24, 2010
Jun 24, 2010 at 8:32 AM UTC
Camembert Time
We are born in times of Herod, but never flee, From Holy to sin mutation erupted in our mist, Consumed by **** screen to scream in addiction cage, We set our bodies free, let them hunt hormones. We created a Universe in our nakedness, Exposed twinkling stars, Empty Souls. A relationship with darkness Lights off, Incubus and succubus collided. And He said, "Who told you that you were naked? Genesis 3:11 Things we learn when our parents close Eyes praying for us are poisonous, We kissed dead bodies sacking their venoms Slowly we carry souls in our backs. We are lost.
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Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 2:42 AM UTC
Wounded private parts
They keep throwing things at my face Running away from this toxic place. I plead and ask for a confrontation... Nothing to do but accept this mutation. They've been away now, for far too long Maybe it's me, that they see is wrong. I never deserved this kind of treatment, but it's what they do for their own entertainment. I know I'm human, not a toy nor a pet, but it's all the cruelty and the insults I get; Snickering and bickering at my every detriment Always saying: I'm just a failed experiment. They won't come near me, never again. The terror in their eyes, they'll forever retain Seeing the beast that I've now become The wrath I've held in, I finally succumbed.
0
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 1:52 AM UTC
In This Toxic Wasteland
Nightfall, through the door, Bedsprawl, a ritualistic bore. Movements, they're oppressive. Actions, they're aggressive but his eyes, they're depressive. Our synthetic connection and self-hatred is created with projection and misplaced indignation. There is no love in our heads, no lust in our beds. The fear of emasculation and eternal damnation hides all self-loathing with boasting and congruent clothing. My Y was castrated. I'm a ****** from the womb. I'm Female, for unsated gloom  my X is berated. I'm named a disgusting mutation as he projects his deveation onto the population. When his shameful "pride" has diminished, I know our joyless formality has finished. He doesn't sit in the pew, yet he stands in the aisle, locked in a prison of denial. Tough and brisant, trying to be what he isn't. He walks out like a ragdoll, his steps aneurysmal with alcohol. Beside myself, salty tears act as an anaesthetic, the antonym of emotion. An apathetic ocean. I clutch my centre, the daunting tormentor. Impregnation is a STD, an infection, an infestation. Glue for our miseries to undo our joys. Merriment induced torment, fidelity induced gaiety
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Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 8:03 AM UTC
An (Ex)-Friend of Dorothy.