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Classy J Nov 2016
Diving into bath salts, raving flue that is as sicking as math, at least that is what I conclude from my findings presented to the court. Objection, objection, sir I don't see the connection, maybe your rhyme scheme needs perfection. Maybe it does, but ***** it, I'm blessed by God; baby please sit down and take a chill pill and just enjoy this buzz. Busting off, so back off, bout to prove my case like I’m Ace Attorney, oh and I know it’s off topic but if I lived in America, I would’ve voted for Bernie. What the **** am I on? Came to save the digital world you can call me a digimon, you bet I’m a champion! Serendipity dear deputy; I’ll be typically wittingly searching for some tranquility. What is the validity of this vicinity as I only accept notability and won’t let this become a liability!

Pathologically paraplegic hypochondriac with insomniac who be popping poems profusely perfect; while whimsically worm's try to be strategic, but sadly choke and lose it. Miles set apart; it certainly is not a strut in some park, but everyone has to start somewhere before they engrave their mark. Don't reside yourself to just being a silhouette, nor be one to toot your clarinet. Two sides to every person like Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde; be careful to not let your pride turn into carbon monoxide. For pride will always lead to your downfall, so please take off your iron curtain and tear down your Berlin wall. Improvident incongruous incredulous confidence; underwhelming astonishment of such fundaments of these heinous and callous acts of deceitfulness. Trickery of thy decadence; why art though jittery when you are full of benevolence? So used to getting what you want I bet; well this situation can not be fixed by dough, so I see why you are in a cold sweat! Fake confidence won't help you here especially when one lies; you made a mistake and will face the consequences and I am not one quick to forgive no matter how much you apologize.  

Don’t have time to consider your sensibility, because my life is going a twitter with too much hyperactivity for me to deal with your stupidity. Befittingly that I’ll be building up the intensity, to infinity and beyond goes this creativity of this anomaly. Not going to prolong this phenomenon, I’ll be going off like a Molotov over this intercom, yeah you better not ever underestimate this underdog. Lackadaisical are these other rappers; they’re so replaceable and incapable to be educational. Incomprehensible is this loop of hip-hop now a days, why can’t we be inspirational or is it to late because we left morals and substance back in the olden days. Can’t afford to be anchored anymore, I’ve poured in too much time to be just be locked behind some door. I refuse to be ignored and be left ashore; I am not worried about going into the storm; because you are bound to come across some things that need some work like chores. Spinning the wheel, reminiscing of how it felt when I no longer concealed who I was and my self-image had been healed.

Used to be reclusive & convinced myself that I was a duffass, but now I’m exclusive to being a smart ***. This is the new era, this is a new fire; it’s time to spice things up so better pull out the sriracha. Leading the revolution like I’m Che Guevara, I’m light as feather whatever the endeavor even if my life story doesn’t end up as pristine as Cinderella’s. Why so infatuated by worldly wants? Why so decorated when you can't hide the fact that you're the same basic *** font? Trying be something else, striving to be someone else, wanting to be anything else. You are who you are, if you think it will make things better you cucu, because in my eyes you are really a star. You have to expand your interpretation and perspective of life, you have to demand without hesitation a piece of that collective pie; because I believe everyone should be equal in this life.

Calculated bullets that go straight through my cranium; manufactured outlets that show great things but have also turned us into brainless aliens. Complicated hookups that grow irritating and become as unstable as uranium; what was once sacred has become as spontaneous as going to a gymnasium. Confiscated trinkets cast away and leaves those affected very irritate; while also simultaneously making apathetic souls that have gone through the same thing be able to understand, help or relate. Cultivated rebellious culprits that don't take the memo of being cooperative, instead they choose to be provocative and opposite of the other conglomerates. I’m so fascinated by this fabricated segregated supposedly liberated and sophisticated community; where-as some so foolishly stupidly amusingly think that everyone has the same equal chance at opportunity. Moderated, regulated and orchestrated where some are situated; if you don’t think that it has something to do with be affiliated to a certain demographic then maybe you never got educated in the affairs of those discriminated. It’s a good thing then that class is in session; so viewer or listener  please use discretion when taking time to witness or hear my position. Deafening out all ill whims; wrestling with these unsettling menacing fears and guilt from all of my sins.

Yeah no need for hallucinogens, all I need is two hydrogens and one oxygen. Rocking in my moccasins; so you can bet I am not one to drop my promises. Native honour who is also a innovative scholar and who was created not to falter. I may not be good with numbers, but I'm good at making sure you never slumber on my words; because I work on them day and night in my 36 chambers. Beware the pretender, they are manufactured by the vendors to keep us from being together. Defend your heart; be wise who you befriend and who you pick for your counterpart. There will be hurt and affection can be perverted, so know your worth and never ever let yourself be distorted. It is not your fault, it is not my fault, so then who is at fault? Is it just life in general? Is it because of the being who lives eternal? Is it all of the above? I don't know, but we shouldn't judge and instead choose to accept and love!

Pardon me Martin, but if this class were a prison I’d be the warden. I make the rules here and I took the tools given to me to get me here. So listen, please listen to my lesson that I have to present to you as class is still in session. Loading yawl with ammunition to be able to transition to be able to complete your goals or missions. No I’m not tripping, I’m driven  by a higher force to break away the old ways of thinking such as division. This is not the prohibition anymore, so please open your minds and join me on this expedition. Going into the unknown, so here’s to hoping you get through this, as time goes on and be able to look back at it we may feel like this was no more than a tiny but important milestone.  Achieve, believe, conceive, receive, intrigue, and succeed because I think you are unique. You are the only you in the whole galaxy, don’t let agony turn into tragedy; ***** anxiety; yeah and never let your dreams just be some fantasy.

Outro: Sit down class ain't over yet, forfeit those frowns or fake faint or try to jet. Lastly remember what transpired today; don't go hastily and forget about it on December break okay? For though class may be over, more days or years to come until its finally over. Though education ends, one never stops learning even on vacations with family or friends.  I hope you can look back with fondness, I hope you can stay on track in the future if you truly take the time to just focus. Is there truly an end or is this just the beginning to a new bend.
GfS Jul 2015
Back then, I was once told that I was
"Pathologically Nice"
She said that, my past love
She said that despite how I look
(I was told that I look scary)
despite my "overwhelming height" she said
despite my "overwhelming size" she still said
and yet that was the same reason
why it became a past love
because I was that
"Pathologically Nice"

I promised her that I will do what I do
No drugs. No alcohol. No curse words.
Up to this day, I still couldn't do them
Can't do drugs. Can't drink. Can't curse.

She made me promise her
and yet she told me it was because of that
that she doesn't feel the same way

There were inevitable times though
that I question myself
Should I be flattered? Should I believe her?
That I was called "Pathologically Nice"?
up to this day, I'm still questioning it
because..
If I were that kind of nice
why do the people I love
get hurt because of me?
I'm sorry, but at this point in time
I cannot believe
that I am
"Pathologically Nice"
because the people I love
get hurt because of me
I cannot believe you
at this point in time
I mean, I want to
but I can't

A compliment like that is
only for angels and saints
Alliesaurus Feb 2010
Maybe we’ve moved past
The jazz dancing nights
Baby brownie bites into freedom
Now
A pathology of pathologically pathetic patterns
Day in, day out
Wax on, wax off
One of these days:
I’ll learn the piano
Beethoven, bach, ben folds
One of these days
Handstands, happiness, hope
Will string through the summer loving
Hooligans
One of these days
We robo-people will wind down,
Slow,
Stop,
Need oil for our rusted bits
Head, shoulders, knees, and even toes
But, mr. tin man, what if Dorothy
Never comes along?
We won’t blink for centuries
And maybe the world will finally come alive
Akela Santana Oct 2014
Romantically tragic,
I am your Opheliac,
So emotionally pelagic,
My obsession is magic,
For I'm beautifully a maniac.

Madness is a virtue,
So I constantly panic,
You know it's true,
This depression is manic,
But it's all for you.

In love, I'm insane,
It's unbearably nostalgic,
My eyes red from rain,
Pathologically neurologic.
It's a disease in my brain,

And you know what, I love it!
I wrote this last year after the end of a 3 year relationship. I don't really think it's all that good but I thought I'd post it anyway.
Keith Wilson Jun 2019
I like being on time
but I am usually early
and have a boring wait
Being late isn't an option
I always end up early
Ghost Walk Aug 2013
Hey hey it's common as parlance
to the pathos of the rain
and hey it's often as sympathy
to the elation in this state

Hey it's disconnection
to the people in their place
and hey it's not often
that permanence relates

each bead is a lens
magnifies the sincere
I'm rainbows for water droplets
give hail to storms my dear

Oh oh it's gone as defiance
to the pathologically ingrained
and oh it's not rotten
to the habitually irate

oh oh It's introspection
to the narcissists plate
and oh it's boughten
with gentic smiles by trait

each born is a bed frame
ridgid and affixed
her bedsheets to boredom
in covered models of make

Hey hey it's common as parlance
to the pathos of the rain
and hey it's often as sympathy
to the elation in this state

Hey it's disconnection
to the people in their place
and hey it's not often
that permanence relates
Zachary Oct 2013
the rhythm makes me feel low,
eyes wondering which way to go,
lifes a precious smoker to blow,
the questioning of you is two, or the lesson of two is you.
dont forget the second word before the last.
make every minute tick and past.
moth on a light bulb,
stone fit for rings,
rings fit for stones,
we probably pathologically on the same thing. thinking
is feeling
only for the in tell her gents.
but if you arent working for her then its intelligence.
if you bring assets to liable for rhythm that intelligence
james nordlund Oct 2020
Before corona, nursing homes residents were being killed,
naked elderly lying in hallways unattended to for hours,
staff watching as resident says they will get out of bed,
can't and does anyway only to fall straight to the floor,
medications being placed on the floor before being put into
resident pill caddy dispensers, medications being put into
resident drinks then those drinks given to other patients,
food trays delivered on he laps of residents, so staff can do
two things at once, for other residents, food trays dispensed
from a few inches off the ground food tray carriers so
pestilence must get into food, staff continually not doing
their jobs or abusing, lying about residents in any way they
can think of, medical staff purposely lying to and not
treating residents, on and on, residents not being allowed to
see outside doctors in order to actually get treated, staff
physically abusing residents during medical treatments as
retaliation for complaining, medical treatments and drugs
ordered by doctors not administered.  For the N.H. makes
most it's $ on intake and when the resident leaves, so staff's
job, to **** them as quickly as possible to increase turnover.

So covid's also a cover-up of that.  Like before pandemic,
Nursing Home residents, and now staff, are genocided,
42 % of all virus fatalities occur there.  This is also a
Hitlerian eugenics program.  Also healthcare facilities, meat,
poultry packing plants, prisons, densely packed businesses,
are concentration camps, workers are forced to work, catch
covid, give it to others, die, our schools are the same now,
genocide of kids and staff, all for ****'s re-election effort.
For, still, the purposeful non-use of the DPA by **** of
Utin, not nationalizing the manufacture, distribution of PPEs,
good testing, which would save taxpayers 100's of billions of
dollars overspent now on gouged prices, 100's of thousands
of their lives, continues, as he preaches his 'covid schmovid'
policies at his super-spreader of disease rallies, murdering
repubs.  Yet, again, ****'s Admin. is trying to steal food
from the mouths of babes and give it to billionaires, cutting
food-stamps, S.S., giving handouts to wealthy.  Now, Utin's
****, head of the republican bi-polar global conspiracy of
unpowers that unbe, is paying Utin, head of the totalitarian
conspiracy and the global oligarchy, with Russia's inclusion

in the G7, etc., for Utin's paying bounties to Taliban to ****
our military.  Grandpa, dad, brother, son, all military except
me, a military family, can't believe ****'s such a traitor,
instead of a Commander-In-Chief.  Every minute another
citizen perishes from pandemic needlessly, why? Why in this
land of American dreaming, where we put men on the moon,
have Space Forces, are we not able to mass-manufacture,
distribute masks and to accurate testing to limit the spread
of virus?  How can our businessmen, politicians not solve
this now?  "...We(e),...", can't beg, must we in 2020?  Also,
the 'Bob Woodward interviews' with **** prove he knew
about how serious covid-19 would be in 2-20, and said the
opposite to staff, country. He calls our military "suckers",
"losers", he called John McCain "not a hero".  Recent reports
by our intelligence community, FBI, reveal that Heir Mueller
should've declared that the **** international crime family
"had colluded in the Russian conspiracy to steal the election
of 2016 for him", that, "Heir Mueller failed to follow the $
trail of ****'s, which would have proven him and his crime
family did many more crimes than were investigated", that

"Russia's doing the same, and will worse, now, during the
rest of the election cycle and the **** Admin. is not just
doing nothing to stop Russia, they're actually aiding the
hacking of this election".  His niece, Mary Trump has stated
that, "all of what the public knows about him and his
failings is accurate, and he's even much worse".  He's been
keeping security, other Gov't staff at his hotels for months
straight, even when he's not there at the cost of 100's of
millions of your tax dollars.  More victims of his **** and
****** assault history are coming forward to report those
crimes against them.  He invited the Taliban to have a Gov't
Summit at Camp David right before the 18 th anniversary of
the attacks on 9-11-01, that were purposely not prevented by
king george and his ****, cheney, like **** purposely didn't
prevent the corona virus from becoming a pandemic here, it
was canceled by his staff at the last minute.  He just said,
upon hearing we've over 200,000 dead from covid, and over
6 million cases, that, "we should test less, then we'd have
less cases, we're doing fine, the end of corona's just around
the corner.", while he effectively does little to less.

Now, the deaths top 230,000 and over 7 million cases, we've
4 % of the world's population, yet, 25 % of virus cases, why?
**** just told the country a week ago, he "may not accept
the outcome of our elections in a month, 'cause mail in ballots
are a scam, if he losses, election was rigged by democrats".
His admin. are already talking to States where republicans
control the State Legislature and can choose to dispense with
the popular vote by replacing it with a set of electors they've
chosen in advance, and will say "they represent the will of
the people, instead of the elections results".  He also has
threatened that "there will be violence in the streets if he
doesn't win", etc..  The candidates for President just had their
first debate, a one ring circus, made so by the carnival barker,
****.  He refused to follow rules, continually interrupted
Biden, pathologically lied as usual.  'Time is longer than twine',
and 'to err is human, to forgive, divine'.  It's unforgiveable,
n'er forgettable.  Joe's not only persisting in reminding our
nation who "..we(e),.." are and can be, also that we're citizens
of a great Union. Inspiring, Biden's campaign rises, uplifts.
We all can, must stop this madness now, vote early, GOTV.
Thanx for reading my twig of poetree, commenting and all you All do.  Have a cool 'noon   :)   reality
JcF Oct 2020
Do we heal with time or does time fluctuate the essence of our healing - A window into a world explored opens and yet, before reaching our first step, well silence the anticipation of falling - Time - Was it too long or not enough - Missed opportunities are gathered - What might be open space to some is crowded by others. Forged from the beginning first breaths associated in rhythm - Pathologically divided in silence negotiations provided
-
Life's mystery
-
Time
mike dm Aug 2016
Procrastination is the fundamental definition of what it means to be human.

Reality isn't patterns of phenomena perceived as such in accurate fashion; it's a collection of loosely coupled mind hacks that cut corners around certain blargh redundancies that need not apply. why? in order to create create create.

This is true fitness, in evolutionary terms:

to out-lazy Neanderthal, and in doing so grow an imagination which could then - by simply lying down in the grass and gazing up at that lingering monochrome blue sky, with cicadas thrumming, smells of summer bursting saccharine - engage the senses at a glance; and without even knowing it, effortlessly bring about the very notion of the wheel, or fire or propulsion systems of rocketry that will bring us home, from scar to star again.

Luxuriating in the elimination of the quotidian reasserts the ability to imagine something other, something stranger, something so utterly complex that it squares itself and leaps exponentially forward like weird origami in pirouetted flux.. You know that feeling when you surprise yourself and do something epic? That. This is novelty at its finest. This is not just another life living. This is worth rolling out of bed for. That is worth the thousands small paper cuts wielded by -their- ordinary.

.. Of course, this hypothesis is completely bias, because I am almost pathologically procrastinatory. I'd rather write or space out or listen to a YouTube lecture on tree consciousness or supersymmetry or whatever..

The usual day without hiccup bores me to death; no, it scares me to the point of whispering death wishes out into the ether. I fear it like nothing else. Tasks? No. Obligations? Noooope. Running errands? How about I melodramatically run this sword through me first? I'm exaggerating of course, but kinda not really that much.

I'm horribly afraid of being known through and through, made simple, like an amoeba microscoped or a god put in a book. I'd rather not be reduced to maintaining widgets for the financial suits who rock cuff links which eclipse the GDP of Somalia, thanks.

I feel like bliss -is- somewhere out there in the void, like a blank white page with a blinking indigo cursor, full of potential, just waiting to be written on; rather than some subject of some religion or some subject of some state, waiting to be written down.

I feel like there's so much work to be undone, and so little infinity.
J McDevitt Jun 2013
Plucking petals she pathologically pulls
While walking where nighttime once had skies filled
And drowns deep her sorrow unto her mind fixed
And picks up a rabbit whose neck she does twist.

Drains his blood which drips down her throat
And feels free from her fix for fear and woe.
So plants her a seed and prays silent for growth
Til seasons pass by and from ground flower shows;

Where she plucks all the petals and kills once again
To add to her list all the sins she has sinned.
derelictmemory Jun 2014
My Mother once told me that the pain will burn your lies until all that you leave behind with every step you take
is the smoke of the cigarettes you once held dear but I was pathologically just imagining her saying things to me with her back turned and her eyes closed.
The soles of my shoes are as worn as my eyes when midday reaches its peak
and the last time she spoke to me it was only to tell me that she'd return the favour
by playing the games I never meant to put in place just to spite my severe apathy towards the ways of living in her world.
I'm still only a pebble on a stretch of sand I won't live long enough to see
and parallel lines that were perpendicular to the fragile vein of life were the only things I bothered to pay attention to
but she'll never know that.
I'm still the only ceramic mug on the shelf and eyes pass over me quicker than dust gathers on my shoulders.
I'll never be able to compare the flames in my lungs to the crackle of firewood of lost travellers
for the only blazes I start are the ones that dry my throat and leave my eyes bloodshot.
My Mother talks about love like it's the remedy to every illness but my Father's eyes gaze fleetingly at her soul
and she still claims that their love was the most powerful thing in the world.
RebeccaSian May 2014
I want you secret
I want you night-time
I want you in-between
I want you mine

I want you eyes wide
I want you six o'clock (and seven o'clock and eight o'clock)
I want you with the radio low
I want you in dusty sunlight
I want you with cracks on the ceiling
I want you Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays.
I want you leap frogged and running with feeling

I want you long and drawn out, and short and frenzied
I want you asleep and in transit
I want you awake and drunk and dancing
I want you whiskey and moët and brandy

I want you electronically
Pathologically
Dynamically
Chronically
Ironically
­
I want you silent
I want you wild eyed and raving
I want you hating and spitting
I want you lost and needing

I want you without regret
I want you argued and making up
I want you ***** dishes and rain against the windows
I want you July blue sky, November harvest moon

I want you 'I do'
I want you first kiss and last
I want you babies and children and promises
I want you future I want you past

I want you secret
I want you night-time
I want you in-between
I want you mine
james nordlund Mar 2020
Whilst there is no 'Devil', which the Roman Catholic Empire needs to, and projects, exists,
while that's just them dictating their notsee/totalitarian control over the world, there is
the closest thing that has ever existed to it, the united **** of assassin's gov't's '****',
as it's called on the street, specifically the republikan conspiracy's psychic-terrorism.
This 'devil', which is dictating their 'final solution' for humanity is the only game in town,
like ******'s was (though they did a slower blitzkrieg by dividing and conquering the country
into a baskin 'n robbins of 23 flavors of supremacy), as well as a plethora of conspiracies,
which 'gotherdone', all feeding on the genocide of heterosexual, Caucasian, non-republican
newborns to men, this notsee dictatorship's 'Jews', which includes some of them too, ends all.

Climate crisis and our king-kong sized terrible-two, ****'s playing his keystone President
act for two months has determined his, the republikan conspiracy's, global oligarchy's
agenda, which they couldn't get done politically for the last 2 decades, the stealing of
social security from the elderly, infirm.  Instead of privatizing S.S. they're exterminating
recipients through the purposeful spread of corona virus, which kills the elderly, infirm,
predominantly.  Also, daily domestic notsee attacks by the republikan party has numbed the
populace to them, so their doing terrorist attacks before the election won't have the same
effects of determining a polity vote more right-wing, ergo, plausibly deniable extermination
by pandemic, incompetence, is happening instead.  Will dreamers awaken before their ******?  

This is nothing new, the republikan conspiracy led Gov't, it's **** and millions of minions,
Neuter newborns, anatomically destroy toddlers, kids, teens, adults constantly, also doing
all crime, spreading all disease, pestilence against and to them, shoving it down their
throats to further their ****** of those non-republikans.  How could you not know their the
devil.  Every republikan uses their jobs they supposedly do to exterminate non-republikans
instead.  That's the same as ******'s minions did, for it wasn't generals, admirals, etc.,
who realized his and his ***** rise, it was the file-clerks, receptionists, cab drivers all
destroying, committing treason every moment, instead of doing their jobs, like the serial
murderers who masquerade as cops, exterminators ..., as doctors, judges ..., as justices.  

**** and his admin. were informed by 17 intelligence agencies about corona in january, he
lied about it extremely, pathologically and still is, as recently as March he was saying
"we have 5 cases and by the end of the week we'll have one, then it'll disappear", in order
to determine as many people were infected as possible before the states jumped in to try to
stop it, the highest of treason.  Simply because the quickest spread will be in the largest
metropolitan areas, specifically Cali and NY, where most voters are democrat or too sane to
vote ****.  Also, the predominance of infections and mortality will be in the lower-middle-
class to poor, 60 % of the nation, who can't defend themselves as well, and will die from
it more, price of living skyrocketing, people have less $ than ever, class war by pandemic.  

His latest, "the cure's worse than the pandemic", everyone should die by criminally insanely
putting them all back to work 'til death, to get Utin's **** more $ sooner from his corps.
I told you during the campaign that if he won we'd be lucky if he doesn't pull a Caligula,
that's only three steps from his current hitlerian positions.  The "Stimulus bills", the
Dems are pushing back but the Repubs are getting the edge as ever, 1/2 a trill to bail out
big businesses and they kept his criminal cuts to food stamps, still stealing food from the
mouths of babes and handing it to billionaires.  Pharma, medical supplies corps making hand
over fist from bidding war between States, federal agencies, Bush, **** klans kafknchinging.  
The 'big fix' is in, if it ain't fixed don't break it, stop criminal insanity, vote Bernie.
It's a twig of poetree in progress.  CLIA = central lack of intelligence agency.  The 'big fix is in', stop criminal insanity, vote Bernie; please.  Thanx for all you All do; have a good day   :)   reality
mike dm Apr 2016
i've the mien of a human,
alien among his own.
gross animal urges, brackish greengold flits, uncrushable surge; then,
demispoonfuls of Other emerge, light like photons
barely reaching, then lapping,
at my fatigued bare feet, toes curling up
in the sand of someone else's time.

i don't let people in,
because i
myself am
outside of me,
full of blocked ways,
full of rationalizations.

i am all hallways
without any room.

--- it's ******* weird, i know that.

i am not
altogether
normal.
i am out
there, but
still here.
please please, understand
this. it's key.

like, the other day..
while taking out the trash (that i pathologically neglect to do),
as i approached the dumpster,
that old-as-the-hills
tall, ornately carved double door glinted
into my space
- yet again -
out of nowhere;

made of an ancienter wood hailing from
a lost time and a lost space,
whose two adjacent hatch windows were lithely guarded
by some bizarre crisscross adamantine sentient metal -
this precise door, which
i have never been able to open up, let alone fully approach -
laughed and widened its grasp:

and, with a confusing series of heavy deadbolts  
receding from its nook with a resonant boom,
the left door,
ajar,

beckoned my
being,

as i
am,

and i crossed its threshold
into a velvety grooved room, remembered again
as a toward flesh warm and sliprune.
Daan Mar 2017
Damaged goods, baggage lugging,
in desperate need of comfortable hugging,
every night, every time until she knows,
any way it goes, it will all be just right.

Socks mixed with pants and shirts everywhere,
she needed structure, someone to care
for her and her impeccable disorders,
with a mindset that borders
on pathologically obeying to any kind of order.

I tore myself away back then,
three years ago, when
all you had to do was say hello,
when all your wishes were granted,
movements were enchanted,
ideas implanted
in a dream, an idea,
never what it had to seem.

Gone you were so proud,
apart you were so happy,
when you chose, even more than when not,
it resided in knowing what you've got.
It always seemed so terrifying,
to stop trying,
to struggle with lying
to yourself about her purity
when all you want is clarity.

You want it, don't need it,
so be it.
Prevarication permits pretend perception, presenting
piquantly piqued, pimply pimping *******, plucky
pulchritudinous previously pusillanimous, prevalently
puckish, psychic packman, pokemon playing proletarian

puppeteer pygmy, peevishly *****, plummy, plumy,
pompously pushy, pampered, prefabricated pinchbeck,
pokily plying plowshear, plodding peregrination, pied
piper pitifully peppy pornographic potato pealing,

parsimonious paradoxical protagonist, proposing
preposterous panicky pacification plots, prioritization
pertinent penultimate peroration, perhaps perceiving
perjuring, perplexing, perverting puzzling pronouncements

projecting pulsating pixelated pulpy pinball pinging
packets prompting pacific, poetic, phlegmatic purplish
psoriasis plagued, plumbum pallor pallid, Paleolithic
protuberance pronounced, psychosomatic prohibitionist,

polarizing perfunctory peculiarly progressive, patriotic
postmodern pathologically proud paternal panache,
peripatetic panaceas portraying prescient perfidious
puerile president, predominantly proposing parochial

principles, plenty public parking, purposefully
promoting pharisee phalanxes, pilates practicing
paragons, perennially peaceably proficient protesters,
profitable polygamy, pugnacious pitbull powerball

players, pandering polyandry, propagating professional
palindrome pensive peeping people, peddling,
proselytizing predicating prostitution, proliferating
phenomenally, populist persona promulgated peyote

phased physicians pioneering prescription promoting
paradisiacal pricey photographic pictures, placating
phrenetic physical perturbation partaking place
purchased (paid paltry pennies) por palatial piazza.
Michael Ryan Dec 2015
In stories
monsters are always
underneath our bed
in our closets
or behind the curtains
to our windows and showers.

Reaping shadowy complexions
fleshy exposed eyes
gleaming ill intent
for our fawns, the children.

Creatures that exist
beyond what we can comprehend
as they watch our sneakers
slip by the edge
where they lie in wait.

Be weary to those
who seek flesh by the pound
carnivorous beings
who slather the fresh
essence of youth
in-between their teeth.

They are not hiding
but living with you
as the anger and fear
that pathologically anchors
its self into your existence.
I'm just bored, Delete it when I wake up.
M Vogel Jan 2021
PaunSN

A tangibility of thought
the cost of loss(ed)--
fought, then bought;

the   p a s s i o n   beyond

fashion.

A tap in to
the forever
everything said--  bread fed.
Crumbs, that come  from
the drum.. the strum

of a million distant
spirits--
none to succumb

to the emptiness

the meaninglessness

of words from the numb--
the pathologically-saturated
mundane numb

Overcome, my love

overcome


Sky of blackness and sorrow
Sky of love, sky of tears
Sky of glory and sadness
Sky of mercy, sky of fear
Sky of memory and shadow
Your burning wind
fills my arms tonight
Sky of longing and emptiness

Sky of fullness..
sky of blessed life.

Come on up for the rising
youtu.be/NBWEr7yB1CA?t=507
Traveler Jan 2021
So you claim you're highly
"intelligent"
In which category would that be?
There's "cognitive" and "emotive" intelligents,
I'm sure your in the driver seat!

Or perhaps your
crystallise intel
is crystallised
Somewhere
Between heaven and hell
We can be
Influentials when fluency dwells


Surely
"Kinaesthetics" is poetical flow
This intelligence come and goes.

But obviously "linguistic"
is our intellectual clutch
Along with high "aesthetics"
But you may still be out to lunch!
Because
"Spiritual" intelligence
can leave us drunk!

"Interpersonally" where are you
That and "artistical" intelligence rules!

"Spatially" we navigate
this "mathematical" understanding
of our universe.

No one possess all
11 intelligents I have mention
So if you believe your above
You've pathologically decended!
Traveler Tim

Part of the lecture I give to a think tank society in my area

Humans have up to a dozen intelligence
Some of yours are higher then mine!
Today marks fourth anniversary of tragic deaths
an aching breaking heart – mine
remembers four extinguished breaths.

(dashed – not while riding off
in a white horse open sleigh,
but upon learning untimely demise
regarding prosperous family, whose small
plane crashed August 8, 2019.

They lived ~ three doors down from us
farther than one can toss a Buffalo nickelback.)

The victims included;
Jasbir Khurana, 60
(a professor of pathology
and laboratory medicine
at Temple University's
Lewis Katz School of Medicine);
Divya Khurana, 54 (a professor
of pediatrics and neurology
at the Drexel University
College of Medicine,
specializing in pediatrics, sleep) ;
and the couple's youngest daughter
Kiran Khurana 19 years old.

No words can assuage the deep sorrow,
this once upon a time neighbor
(I lived at 1148 Greentree Lane) experienced
disbelief, numbness, shock...
attendant by an irreparable loss of beloved,
and vacillated how to communicate
heartfelt (I cannot ex spleen) sympathy,
where words superfluous,
yet... if for that challenge alone,
an affinity with language

spurred impulse to focus upon
bountiness of joie de vivre
imbibed years gone by,
when every now and
again chance encounters
found yours truly (me)
in delightful company
regarding persons whose presence
imbued benevolence, kindness, warmth...
facilitating emotional philanthropy

influenced long term positive memories
to one experienced being
outcast, ostracized, offensive...
courtesy unfortunate series
of circumstances beyond my control,
which voiced unwelcome tension
sabotaged reaching quality politeness
displeased at unfriendly reactions
reflexively, maliciously, impetuously...
did little or no justice

toward conflict resolution
which altercations nearly,
quickly did segway profoundly
into unpleasant standoffs,
yes bias, bigotry, bitterness
begat bisel meshuga
acutely aware I loathe
uncouth actions regarding myself
and strive to remain
affable, cordial, friendly...,

hence an object lesson,
(albeit ex post facto)
to abide by my inner integrity,
ethos, dogma politesse...,
especially when pitted against
unsavory electric acid kool aid test
tis then urgently vital to remain
steadfast, and figuratively
turn the other cheek
particularly when populace

under severe duress
re: instigated by pathologically
belligerent, ill mannered, rude...
former president whose
set abhorrent precedence,
whereby people of nation follow suit,
yet this nonconformist only hopes
to affect positive within
webbed wide world at large.
(dashed off upon learning untimely demise regarding prosperous family, whose small plane  crashed. about half dozen years ago, they lived ~ three doors down from us.)  

No words can assuage the deep sorrow,
this once upon a time neighbor
(I lived at 1148 Greentree Lane) experiences
disbelief, numbness, shock...
attendant by an irreparable loss of beloved,

and vacillated how to communicate
heartfelt sympathy,
where words superfluous,
yet... if for that challenge alone,
an affinity with language

spurred impulse to focus upon
bountiness of joie de vivre
imbibed years gone by,
when every now and
again chance encounters

found yours truly (me)
in delightful company
regarding persons whose presence
imbued benevolence, kindness, warmth...
facilitating emotional philanthropy

influenced long term positive memories
to one experienced being
outcast, ostracized, offensive...
courtesy unfortunate series
of circumstances beyond my control,

which voiced unwelcome tension
sabotaged reaching quality politeness
displeased at unfriendly reactions
reflexively, maliciously, impetuously...
did little or no justice

toward conflict resolution
which altercations nearly,
quickly did segway profoundly
into unpleasant standoffs,
yes bias, bigotry, bitterness

begat bisel meshuga
acutely aware I loathe
uncouth actions regarding myself
and strive to remain
affable, cordial, friendly...,
hence an object lesson,
(albeit ex post facto)
to abide by my inner integrity,
ethos, doga politesse...,

especially when pitted against
unsavory electric acid kool aid test
tis then urgently vital to remain
steadfast, and figuratively
turn the other cheek

particularly when populace
under severe duress
re: instigated by pathologically
belligerent, ill mannered, rude...

president whose sets abhorrent precedence,
whereby people of nation follow suit,
yet this concomformist only hopes
to affect positive within world at large.
Steve Page Nov 2020
None of my best friends
are poets

They live different
They walk faster
They're more organised
They have more friends

They are readers
occasionally
And writers
spasmodically
- never pathologically

My best friends
are breakers of silence
and I need them more
than they need me
True
Gypsy Oct 2022
Pathetically inadequate  
at being - Humanity
Idiotically primitive
In our destructive urges
Pathologically incapable
Of simply getting along -

We are - Humanity
The Doomsday Machine
JP Goss Sep 2019
What is this ring I find in my skin?
The mark of attaching when your head latched on—
Getting lost in the weeds of a romantic impulse
I must have picked you up on the edge of my sole
And I didn’t quite notice where you staked your claim;
And exempted me from social sins.
I stared in the mirror to practice your grin
Emoting “Us” as you use me for food
And bemoan my expressions as unromantic or cruel,
Pointed attention to you is too much
But, I panicked anyway and pulled away fast
Your body may be gone, but your head’s
Still attached, embedded in my calf;
Oh, I want you back to parasitize my safety
Once more, drink the vital stuff of my life away
So I would not be so coldly infected
Pathologically obsessed—
Do I run, once more, through the sun-kissed fen?
For food to some other I shall become
As my joints lock into place
Around the last known curve to their bent.
And finally take one last breath
where hands of Seth
Thomas no longer clock
freed at last from cataclysmic aftershock
reverberating thru every baited cell
after quaking mine flinty bedrock
well nigh since birth zapping bloodstock,

an existence fraught with chronic anxiety/
panic attacks convulsing lovely bones,
where anorexic buttock
evinced ****** need dulled deadlock
cramping puberty averse
to let young manhood defrock
childhood's end aghast

(as would Alfred J. Prufrock)
assisting administering electroshock
coursed across every marrow
buzzfeeding mine famished
emaciated skeletal feedstock
self starvation jamming body electric
grave situation forced hand,

where mother intervened
to break-fast gridlock
i.e. pathologically hell bent
to render null and void yours truly
vanishing into black hole
(son) disappearing mock
curry of pathetic existence,

an arrow escape,
when grim reaper did nock
bowed, deplored, vied
against innate willpower
deadbolted with padlock
suffocating lifeforce pitted
with devastating indelible pock
marks still evident as I schlep

along cratered, gutted, pulverized...
impassable singular stairway to heaven
resembling bombed roadblock
finds me tethered, suspended,
roped... hanging lock
stock and barrel atop gaping abyss
mull echo chamber,
where sounds of silence tick tock.
ghost queen May 2020
the siege is lifting,  the viral apocalypse fading. i am a lucky one, weary, ready to move on, wanting normal, of days gone by.

everything i knew, every belief i had, is about to change, i am not ready, for the brave new world of animal farm.

i am tuned in, nothing is important, time a blur, sober is depressing, nothing turns me on, leave me alone, so i can drop out.

living the nightmare of behavioral sink, pathologically withdrawn, suffering the indifference of the beautiful ones, how do i survive, the asocial haze of universe 25.
Aldous Huxley, George Orwell, Timothy Leary, John Calhoun
Patrick Harrison May 2020
Walking over the ash,
teetering the line between love and death.
There comes a crying from a stack,
hands and feet and heads staring up,
reflecting on the murky water.

Smoke is still spilling in the air, tumbling and
turning like a bride and groom dancing. But there
are no people here. You can see their eyes, without
the same refraction of light that made them human.
You can hear cries from the debris as your father leads you away.

Don't worry, he tells us all. It will be over soon.
The bombs will stop soon.
The sun will shine soon.
But soon was so far away; he had lied to his children.
Not in the way you would lie randomly though, pathologically.

He lied to them because he loved them. Because the bombs brought
back memories from his own childhood, where he already knew
from a young age they would never stop falling like glass shattered
from a bottle. Like the towels thrown over the bodies, flickering in the wind every which way.
☒ The truest of dead-tested-death-testing proves Robin's dead for sure
☒ By 26 August 2014: Robin F. Williams doesn't **** & doesn't snore
☒ Showing that his rotting *** is dead because it cannot **** anymore
☒ To distance Italians from Sicilian mobsters is a Neapolitan goal,
☒ so Italia: inter mummy Rosalia Lombardo to instate her timeless role
☒ as the raking gnaw of unholy museum worship exacts a Karmic toll
☒ La Repubblica italiana, bury Rosellina Lombardo to honor her soul
☒ Meanwhile a counterfeit woman lives as Michelle Obama the man
☒ Reeling in big fish, retiring with his husband and living on the land
☒ This Michelle Obama's of a neo-femininity heftily counter-manned
☒ Wail over the blubber of mercurial fish shrink-wrapped and canned
☒ Michelle's ribs are the Chesapeake Bridge over oily water spanned
☒ It's worse than what the immigration department doesn't require as
☒ the bureaucratic class charges a **** cop grid with a 240 live wire
☒ because accordingly Vatican City is the descendant Roman Empire
☒ where-from incorporated elites throw Christians on a funereal pyre
☒ 1 door-to-door monkey salesman Jim Jones of Jonestown, Guyana
☒ Died for the C.I.A. as M.I.5 murdered ex-princess ******* Diana
☒ Eerily hear '97's semi auditory disturbance: Tyson bites Holyfield
☒ No man in sox denies comforting knowledge of wearing 'em milled
☒ Patients scared sacred is the verdict on cells C.D.C.-certified killed
☒ set upon para-nucleic structures acidic pathologically-thunk sealed
☒ Mercifully a fattened Elvis crapped-out from a bloated heart stilled
☒ 2 farmers flea volcanic plains before furrowed meadows are tilled
☒ The Acámbaro Figures and Kensington Runestone aren't canonical
☒ As they're deliberately omitted from all Apocryphal books Biblical
☒ Skirts barely below mons veneris calculate lust & lure systematical
☒ Seems the totality of items round coax contraband flicks cylindrical
☒ Dirt & smudges & wrecks the sea causes, rounded to what's conical
☒ The beautiful Teresa Teng sang of “Another rainy day in Nagasaki”
☒  I have seen films of her on bikes, on skates but not playing hockey
☒ The ease in which legs are compressed & unfolded at the cat house
☒ makes me hearken for unstuck Tuesdays at ye olde Erin cork house
☒ where fish are skinned like brave men tried in a federal court house
☒ while uncracked minds get cracked up at a ****** town crack house
☒ Tex & Rita (to Memorex): Die you schizogenetic offering by dawn
☒ in the dirt-bag opting of a love stymied beneath an undeterred lawn
☒ in starving memory to Dutch: a ray-gun-loving Reagan called Ron,
☒ that war-dodging acquaintance of stage-dead mummer **** Shawn
☒ whose crap-out was viewed by attending audience as a planned con
☒ but alas the gray ******* was, medico-legally, dead and gone
☒ To negrita ****** & Albanian trulls & stenographers he's just John
☒ Lewis Mumford wasn't motherly as now Mum is his name or 'cause
☒ The Myth of the Machine Vol II: The Pentagon of Power was tame
☒ Mumford's keen intellect is marginalized and therein lies the shame
☒ Finding competent help for a homosexual brain defect ain't so easy
☒ with local brain doctors buggering sailors till they're both as queasy
☒ as allergists with red noses because allergy tests make them sneezy
☒ Many 62-year-olds get a kick out of bowel surgery when it's breezy
☒ beneath palms labeled alphabetically: tree w, tree x, tree y & tree z
☒ When you date first a date-****** you expect date-**** on first date
☒ To love profoundly we must possess an inalienable, intractable hate
☒ while a chaste Chaz hefts gobs of food from fridge to stove to plate
☒ faster than down hill on oily rails screams a train obese with freight
☒ that'll whip mufflers Oprah & Gayle at their queerest galloping gait
☒ Without toilet paper, ****** rags would be gay Clint Eastwood's fate
☒ as his ***-lovin'-Bohemian-Grove-attending *** needs an **** mate
☒ with a deep ****** receptive to bath-house Clint's masochistic trait
☒ enhanced by a brutal sadism borne of a splintered Korean War pate
☒ he got from a bumpy flight aboard an Army Air Force bomber crate
☒ dropping him into Richard E. Byrd's North Pole hollow-Earth state
☒ Viceroy Mountbatten was in tall grass fooling with his swollen ****
☒ when ****** India emerged from her foreign-imposed-grave-pit rut
☒ to absorb a parting partition shot with a death by the thousandth cut
☒ in '47 while King George VI could not keep his blabber-mouth shut

— The End —