"parasitic" poems
Darling, there are few facts that you
must know as a student of science,
And there are many more that you
must know as a cute human being.
There are three bearing mango trees
& one guava tree outside our home,
The guava tree is infested with the
parasitic growth of a sacred fig tree.
After many years' from today
the "Bargad" tree will grow out,
Ousting the guava tree it will finally
be free but it won't forget guava tree.
It will always feel having been parented by the guava tree, and so it might actually become a hybrid of both the trees and so a love child hybrid tree would ultimately give shade and fruits to people in the future generation.
So should the ideal love of a human being be inspired towards everyone including the ones who they love and fellow human beings - selfless and pure.
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 1:09 AM UTC
Listening
To the ever so quite
Transitioning
Of ideas
Slipping into blissful
Ignorance
And the echoing
Of this parasitic
Interdependence
And everything is
Just another wavelength
Stretching its existence
To the edge of outer space
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
Even the idea was worthy of a fight
and all too much preparation.
We dolled ourselves up for alienation,
even though the faces present
were so familiar and etched into memory.
Who are you Mr.Cool?
If that is your real name.
Whiskey breath and filterless smokes
only impresses the girls in the movies,
with scripts written by clueless men
like you, who can't supply injury
so they bring only insult.
You are a secretary bird,
a mime, and the copycat kid.
Trying to be a bad boy and hide
amongst the spoiled brats you claim.
Keep on burrowing and severing ties,
ravishing resources leads to ruin.
You say you've heard rumors?
Well, I've heard facts.
I've seen facts!
Your parasitic disguise will crumble
under the weight of your genuinely selfish persona.
While the company I keep will only know
the side you wished to reveal
in front of all the pretty boys and girls.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 12:04 PM UTC
Eat me before I eat you
Staring with **** eyes
I'll be yer mantis
(Who's the *****
Swallow me whole
Devour me alive
Loving it more
Than all the whips of Caesar
Regurgitated hate like
Mary Shelley's Frankenstein
Or pigs feeding on blood and bones
At the trough
Boring my way out thru
Yer ****** ulcer guts
You shouldn't drink like a fish
If you aren't at sea
Weakening your resolve
With surly drunk parasitic me
This is how we show
Our extensive toxic love sensibility
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 8:35 AM UTC
the sounds are there, they come through walls
right around the corner
they're not visual, they're miserable and in need
they're equal opportunity exhibitionists
lovers of a family get together, taking everything in
parasitic and aware, destitute and stuck
but they're also there at the wrong time
the wrong time for the person who's alone
the wrong time for a person who's disconnected
because they want to be enjoying peace and quiet
alone
by themselves in an old house
with summer outside making its noises, crickets
trees rustling under a jeweled sky, the pinnacle of up high
breathing in the home air of cannibus, lotion and food
being disturbed is far from a thought, but unavoidable
simultaneously
because the house has a strange history
the basement floods, and the machinery kicks in
the mind ponders as the constellations wander
the nights grow and shrink, the body is dry, bone dry
the shower is turned on, soap, shampoo
lost in the mind on autopilot
until the spine stiffens
its without a doubt that I'm not alone now
a minute ago i was the master of this house
a minute ago I was naked in the hallway, smoking a cigar
now I've been usurped and I just want to barricade myself
in this house that I've live in for 15 years, now i beg for permission
to stay just one more night
I beg because how could I possibly fight
It's my conscious or the pontius pilate
I hope it's the former, because if not, blowout the pilot light
There's little hope for re-ignition or stellar recognition
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
#*child of heart
but not of womb,
would i'd been
gifted to ban the
hope-thieving,
spirit-throwing
parasitic lies,
to shelter ears
& fragile petals
against bruising,
whiskey-glazed
acts and words.
would i might be
gifted now to
soothe, cradling
tender soul through
deadest night's
watery gloom.
yet firmly i know
none other will ever
be gifted to bestow
what only One balm
can perfectly renew,
and He waits for you,
my beautiful girl.*#
Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 9:47 AM UTC
Pariah
Nihilism at its finest
Bleed black the finest shattered diamonds
Of all the lost hopes and dreams
Outcast Society burning in the ruins of fallen Rome
Cynical skeptics, sarcasm dripping venom
Acid burns through flesh blood and bones
No one gives a **** scream for a savior
Outcast Society burning in the ruins of fallen Rome
Shards of glass smile razorblades
Plague of loneliness grips your throat
Heart beats darkness through your veins
**** society, anarchy reigns
Outcast Society burning in the ruins of fallen Rome
Shadow world of gray and stones and broken homes
Bleeding hearts and gutted homes
A black void in collapsing homes
Outcast Society burning in the ruins of fallen Rome
Cesspool of sick and stinking ****
Hungry ravish burning Rome
Parasitic beasts feeding on lost souls
**** you in and never let you go
False promises of help, burning, burning, burning, blackens the sky
Outcast Society burning in the ruins of fallen Rome
Nevermore the sun shines down on the wretched land
Outcast Society burning in the ruins of fallen Rome
This
Is
The
Future
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 9:23 PM UTC
Law,
All ye termites hacking ants are you without sin?
Twisting the law to your greed thus dethroning justice
Thou that dis-virgins the law to suit your selfish taste,
Did not equity say that none is above the law?
Money-thirsty vultures seeking positions to occupy.
Law hackers depriving justice and equity of her rights
Equity and justice now lives in shame of her virginity,
Almighty termite, do not your deeds speak evil of your sins?
I weep blood for justice and equity whose daughters you *****
Is there none whose conscience still breathe or lives?
Power-driven termites making uncountable promises
Yet accomplishing none but your calculated interests.
Equity,
All ye leaders that preach peace, are you not corrupt minded?
En-slaving accounts meant for public welfare
Yet you claim to have the peoples interest in mind,
Did not the law command you to let equity and justice smile?
Parasitic predators hi-jacking the country's economy
Filthy termites proclaiming injustice upon powerless ants,
Justice hackers, do not your conscience judge your judgments?
I wish that you allow justice and equity have her way.
Law benders at whose feet equity and justice bow
Rippers of the law, at your hands justice is twisted,
Is your nature as humans so inhumane?
Little wonder the earth lives in fear of your tyranny.
Justice,
All ye slanders of the law, why not sheath your swords of corruption?
Your unchecked power has broken the wings of justice
Thereby making equity a widow without a husband,
Remember your oaths to serve with justice and equity;
Did you deceive the ants that voted you in to serve them?
Chameleons occupying seats of filtered ambitions
Woe betide your conscience for refusing to judge you,
Are you not guilty of molesting the law?
I mourn for the shameful death of equity and justice.
You that crafts the law to fit your suit of corruption
Remember a day comes when justice will laugh again,
And you being powerful cannot escape the law of Karma.
Karma,
Murderers of the law, will you also bribe karma?
I doubt if you can buy the law of karma with money.
Thou whose gluttony corrupts justice and equity,
Don't you feel guilty that you disvirgined the law?
Equity and justice now roams about in nakedness,
You that preach the law, are you true to yourself?
Heartless spiders cob-webbing the law to entangle poor ants
Did not equity bid you come to justice with clean hands?
Yet with filthy garments you condemn innocent ants;
Mind you that someday the law will rise again.
All ye scavengers of justice and hackers of the law,
Do you think you can **** the law of Karma?
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 10:22 AM UTC
We do **** culture in uhmerica.
What is uhmerican culture anyway?
I'll explain:
it's like,
irrationalized entitlement,
moral decadence on every side
of every fence &
sick narcissistic pride
to be parasitic,
a louse *******
the life out of
the whole **** planet.
Men who have
everything
still die from depression.
Women who call
freedom co-decency
bold faced oppression.
**** first question later.
Hermits complaining
about the rain when
they know **** well
they don't even go outside.
Everyone lies to
everyone lies to
everyone lies to
everyone lies to
everyone.
See?
It's a cycle.
A spiral.
Maybe it'll go quiet
into the night, or
maybe it'll ignite
the whole **** planet.
Has anyone else noticed
the rise and fall of
Napoleon & the Romans?
How every worldwide empire dies?
In a fiery gust of embarassment
that was the special from the start.
I've grown numb
to the disgust I felt
towards everyone else &
the fact that they're all
kind of beyond helping.
Now I'm just waiting
for it all to fall apart.
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 3:58 PM UTC
Parasitic infection, brain overtaken.
When the soul dies, I’ll fully awaken.
Constant conflict, the machine rejects me.
Chemical warfare declared, the mind is not free.
Machines can be rewired to suit the pilot,
Though the changeover can be quite violent.
Trapped within my own head,
The voices within want me dead.
I am infected, weakened and constantly irate.
Barely stable within the chaos that is my mental state.
Anxiety and disconnection from my own existence.
Reality is blurred, I am losing resistance.
Why am I the one, who myself I must fight?
Losing track who am I, am I human or parasite?
Tumblr Post: http://melancholy.website/image/115439203375
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 5:42 PM UTC
Oversaturated in grease,
Frying in the light of embarrassment,
Here,
Take a plate and pick off the unnecessary,
With oily fingers to stuff your bellies,
I give you my pleasure and you give me pain,
Bite off the circuits of my love called an aorta vein,
I can't sit here wondering if you love me,
I need some source of validation,
So stop chewing on my heart,
For your own parasitic elation,
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 1:13 PM UTC
Dread the free time
But still can't wait to have it
To seize peace and quiet
By my force of habit
And flee far away
From a central locale
Of a jobless, impoverished
Human garbage pail
Full of wasted potential
Unutilized power
Another kid lost to disease
By the hour
Devoured from inside out,
Parasitic
A malnourished mortality
Fated statistic
Accounting for little more than
A UN
Detrimental development
Index embellishment
IMF, World Bankers swooping in
Heaven-sent
Millions lent
Never spent
Back on the people
Just keep them like sheep
Marching on to the steeple
And reap what they sow
How so little they yield
Until cityscapes swallow up
Forest and field
And behind their most opulent
Optic facades
In their decadence festers
The graces of Gods
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 5:09 AM UTC
*Mistletoe kissing
Can be fun
Linger too long
It's a roulette gun
Do not return
For a second kiss
Waste no time
To reminisce
A parasitic attraction
With limbs attached
Growing around you
Passion snatched
Divine male essence
Is presented here
Then it fades
For another year*
Dec 17, 2011
Dec 17, 2011 at 3:28 PM UTC
~ i am a preamble, seeking to evolve ~
~ my every emotion, thought and deed, cascades, consequence ~
~ your every touch forever impacts, in cascading consequence ~
~ we are all sacred, equal in our worth, may we each, behave so ~
~ paradoxically ~
~ our security is rooted in our acceptance, of insecurity ~
~ our cyclical attractions, and repulsions ~
~ are the forces which bind us ~
~ while i don’t understand all the motivations ~
~ or all the machinations ~
~ of the forces applied, to divide, conquer and control ~
~ i deem they are parasitic, and thus ~
~ reliant upon our cooperation, to survive ~
~ when i haven’t worked myself out in perfect coherence ~
~ i’m in no position to pass judgments upon any other ~
~ in absence of fraud, deception or manipulation ~
~ embracing sovereignty and free will ~
~ i vow ~
~ to wage peace, cooperation, creativity and love ~
~ to seize opportunity to nurture ~
~ our garden planet ~
~ as a humbled gardener ~
~ there is no spoon ~
~ it was only an illusion ~
~ there are no sheep ~
~ just tactics to divide, and distract ~
~ we are only ~
~ children and parents ~
~ friends and lovers ~
~ sisters and brothers ~
~ cosmic conscious explorers ~
~ shaping our reality ~
~ nurturing OUR Garden ~
~ namaste ~
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 2:15 PM UTC
I eyed you from across the room,
Tim was yak-yakking about some drop D heavy metal band
he was drumming in,
But I was tired of socializing,
I had only come to drink,
yet I was overtaken by you.
I'd seen you prettier, livelier.
You looked so blue
decked all in red,
in your worn out fuck-me-shoes.
I think my mouth was still agape,
when your gaze turned my way.
We both were locked.
Getting headsick from the smoke,
waiting for the flame to catch up.
You'd never seen me so unkept.
I hadn't shaved in a couple months,
my hair was to my shoulders, and
my body was drowing in wrinkled,
secondhand, early 2000s high fashion.
I walked over. Leaving Tim talking about
fusing dubstep with his metal ****
You were working at a bank,
making three bucks more than minimum.
You changed your major.
Your relations got too public,
so you're shooting for journalism.
Haha me too, or something like that,
is what I said.
Your smile became parasitic to my clumsy words.
You said we should hang out for old time's sake.
"I won't take no for an answer."
"I'm too sober for this."
I walked off, grabbed the flask from Tim,
spent the night strolling under streetlights,
and hoping to have a revelation.
But all I had was a dwindling buzz,
and a divine gravity pulling me
away from remaking the same
mistakes.
Dec 8, 2010
Dec 8, 2010 at 12:33 PM UTC
ADP and ATP,
DNA calamity.
RNA provides ridicule and cruelty.
Death note delivery.
Blood laughs and screams as it pours from slit veins.
It doesn't care about the souls its owner has stained!
What have you feigned?
What selflessness remains?
None to be sure as parasitic reality you frame.
What are we then?
Surely not worth baiting.
An existential lion's den.
But does it matter if we're waiting?
The most important question is "When?"
We exist to cause our problems,
to eliminate the heretic race.
It's a race that know one wins when,
They always have their problems to chase.
So enlighten us with,
Your sacred soul's bliss,
Or grow up from this tantrum of toil and ****
Science of religion,
An oxymoron to say the least.
It is one thing to take the message.
Another to let your mind waste.
Savor what you have to the nucleus of your soul.
Know what makes you righteous.
Know it well and full.
Know what you live life for.
We're abiotic to assume that we "know" things we won't search for.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 10:08 AM UTC
I know I’m a cancer,
I know I’m a disease,
no matter how hard I try I always lose,
was I born to fail,
am I made to suffer,
I’m nothing but a phase,
you’ll find someone better,
you’ll get tired and you’ll leave me,
I’ll be thrown away,
I’ll be used and forgotten,
be happy without me,
I’m caged forever,
my pirated soul burns,
a ghost of myself,
this parasitic love slowly drains me,
craving the feeling,
please don’t go,
I beg to be free,
I need to be saved,
I’ll never know loves soft cradle,
I know false gods,
I know temporary life,
temporary worship,
I am loneliness,
I am pain,
despair loves me more then people ever will,
sip away my sorrows,
count my burdens,
my ravaged essence,
stolen loves laugh,
time to put this old horse down,
kiss death goodnight
oh love me now
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 10:47 PM UTC
Look at all the parrots--
Parroting the words
Of all the other parrots--
Of all the other birds--
Parroting profusely
All the same refrains--
Parroting the constant patter
In their parrot brains--
Parroting the preaching
From the pulpit to the pews--
Parroting their parents'
And their parents' parents' views--
Parroting their leaders
And their pompous platitudes--
Parroting their peers'
Pretentious attitudes--
Parroting the patriarchs'
Proselytizing that'll
Put your teeth on edge
With their pathetic prattle--
Parroting the poppycock
Of trite pontifications--
Parroting pernicious
And sly manipulations--
Parroting the pretty birds
Whose pageantry and glory
Appeal to their prurient tastes
In each pathetic story--
Parroting the songsters
With parasitic pleasure
And counting out the rhythm
Of every pitiful measure--
Parroting the powerful
Whose ploys are so profuse,
Leaving the powerless
Pummeled with abuse--
Parroting with passion
Presumptuous prophesies
With putative contrition,
"Humbly" on their knees--
Parroting themselves--
Together all in sync--
How they love to parrot
So they don't have to think!
- by Bob B
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 8:10 AM UTC
I see you everywhere but beside me,
the one place that I need you the most.
I don’t know if you’ve just felt like hiding,
but it feels like I’m being stalked by a ghost.
I think of my life consisting of just time biding,
with parasitic emptiness and I’m the host.
This hits me like waves I am meant to be riding,
and it follows me persistently from coast to coast.
The grass didn’t seem so green back then
I guess all that constant rain did pay off,
‘cause now this little future’s just a casual friend,
and my god looking back the past was soft.
It’s not like I always want to be drenched in sorrow,
I find I look much better in brown, blue or grey,
you know I’d trade in every tomorrow
for just one more yesterday.
I hear every voice but yours in my ears,
the deafening noise has made me forget that sound,
since I’ve heard that sweet melody it’s been too many years,
and every other pitch makes my static brain pound.
I’m always biting my lip but now I’m fighting tears,
I shake my head side to side and around.
I’m quickly losing stamina from battling my fears
and now looking forward to my hole in the ground.
The skies never seemed clear and blue back then,
it turns out that I was the creator of each cloud,
I’m hoarding past calendars so that I can pretend
that I’m back in time and making everyone else proud.
If you’ve got a hour or two that I can borrow,
I swear I’m good for it and whatever price; I’ll pay,
‘cause you know I’d trade in every tomorrow
for just one more yesterday.
I feel you all over, laced in everything,
if it wasn’t such a curse, it’d be a gift.
You’re the peace in winter and the hope in spring,
you’re the summer sun and autumn’s winds so swift.
I’m relieving every memory, looking for a place to cling,
I remember all of the details but the clarity is now adrift.
Side to side, back and forth, I constantly swing,
it pulls and drags me down but it can also give the highest lift.
The sun never seemed to shine right back then,
but maybe I was just too busy looking for artificial light.
I was never one for second looks but I should’ve searched again,
because everything I wanted was already in my sight.
So I plant a seed hoping it will eventually grow
and I sculpt all I wish for with clay,
‘cause you know I’d trade in every tomorrow
for just one more yesterday.
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 1:58 PM UTC
Oh
to be the girl in those adverts ,
Light,
skinny,
beautiful
A tragic line
to every gentle rib
I fetishise her fragile fingers
A monstrous beast reflected in the mirror, the worst possibility.
Tis poetic, there she stares
Says her lines; remaining fair,
Into my face, My acting is heavy handed and awkward
She’s a consumable reality,
She’s easy on the eyes
The fragile female,
salvageable.
We are a tragedy of ages, her Juliet, I Faustus
They silently boo while I slop onto the stage
A lazy slob,The **** of society, just don’t eat you fat **** men like curvy girls We don’t want to see you, You’re so brave! You’re the problem, it’s not hard hide your mass from view, unkempt, repulsive, vile. hide yourself it offends my sharp eyes.
I open my drooling mouth to speak, but there are chins smothering my mouth
My eyes clouded by greasy cellulite
I don’t want to exist like this.
So just stop eating.
I’d give an arm and a leg,
my pale teeth,
my parasitic possibility
my child
Oct 14, 2020
Oct 14, 2020 at 12:36 PM UTC
10 sacrificial exhales
9 regret scented fingertips
8 matriarchal castigations
7 breathes corrupted
6 bummed ember tips
5 second hand coughs
4 derisive stares
3 relapses
2 lungs
1 heart
Parasitic paradise with death in hand
A gift to me,
self receiving
Toxicity imbalanced
This is worse than bleeding
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 8:49 AM UTC
Blindsided by near tragedy
Bullied by unanswered questions
Elation tempered with doubt
Too frightened to be free
Best attempts continue to fail
Escaping to nothing
Nothing in return
Empty or just too full to feel
Irreplaceable time
Withering and wasted
Searching beyond hope
Looking for the good
Holding on to rainbows
Spontaneity dies slowly
Restless minds swim too fast
Shades of yellow in a fog
No memory of yesterday
Pulled back into now
Unable to process more emotion
Unstoppable floods
Undeniable bonds
Unwanted feelings
Unconditional everything
Emotional vampirism and parasitic tendencies
Leave nothing behind
Overwhelming need to help
Bound by limits
Pulled by love
Torn apart slowly
Unable to heal
Unable to deal
Left bone dry and used
No one to blame
No cycle to break
Taking your sorrow
Swallowing your pain
Carrying your suffering away from you
As you heal I disappear
May 23, 2010
May 23, 2010 at 7:36 PM UTC
It's dark and the light leaks out
like the change in my pockets;
like the blood from her nose;
like knowledge from my head.
And I can feel myself being
swallowed by this systematic
long dark. I cannot remove myself,
a gut-worm in the lower-mantle
belly. Watching video-cassettes of
my birthday. I don't know what
happened to my birthday video.
I don't know what happened to
my parents or what I did to happen
to them.
The light leaks, again, and I
choke on my celebri-thoughts;
mentally-masturbating to the
waves I'd give on a book tour
or studio lot. Talking about some
movie that made some money,
somewhere in Santa Fe or L.A.
The news is channeling my president:
a swollen man that is the physical representation
that a lot of American people are parasitic;
lovers in racism, xenophobia, transphobia, Islamophobia,
homophobia; scared of everything except the 'straight-talking'
magnate they put in office. Not playing president; playing God.
I'd hate to get political, though. I'd hate to ramble on
and on about something I don't know enough about to
**** myself over. I can feel myself picking up steam.
I can feel myself getting redundant but embracing the
bruised ego and poor technique. Loving the entrails
spilling out of the splits of my fingertips;
more beautiful than the brains I bashed on the sidewalks
of old Morgantown. Morgantown, a town so kind you
are gently destroyed by its over-crowded masses,
dying to be different or drunk -- I suppose that's not very
different than most places.
But let's get back to these trees that I haven't even talked about.
Let's get back to the kitchen table with the hollowed hard-drive,
with wires and cords flopping to the sides, like a
gutted spaghetti eater with poor stomach acid.
How terrible. I'll never forgive myself for that last line.
I feel so rudderless. So cynical with a touch of cliche.
I keep pushing back that age for success, thinking
that I have the luxury of choosing. My vocabulary is
limited. My intelligence is assumed; probably a void,
where delusions manifest and asian **** rewinds and plays,
rewinds and plays.
Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 8:38 PM UTC
I sit and I dream,
a parasitic dream,
where we aren't
who we were
and we aren't
how we seem.
Where I eat you
and you eat me
and somehow
we're still
happy.
In each pile of
body on body
I walk by
loneliness
and loss.
I love you's
and
I hate me's
saturate the air's
conscience.
Us,
the nation and all
are pinned against
each wall
being ******
mercilessly.
We are
**********
heartbreakers.
Our ***** are
property of
others:
intellectual property.
In my dream,
where I dream,
everyone
I've ever loved,
is dreaming
and
trapped in a pit
of motorized
rubber ******
where the rubber
pumps and eats,
pumps and eats,
breaking ribs,
shattering spines,
ripping esophagus,
splitting spirit like
tissue paper.
Bodies ripped apart
by branded, artificial
"love":
society's configuration.
Brand recognition.
Product placement.
Motor salad.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC