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"pharmaceuticals" poems
vanishing hope for consumption as a way of life obese children shovel pharmaceuticals down the throats of the infirm internally developing low-tone hymns relating to slow death by corporate greed – albino judicators pass melanin laws felonizing the populace perpetuating the proletariat while pontificating on the post 9/11 society – isolated rabble-rousers screaming at eggshell walls dislodge tacks holding together the fabric of American culture with ingrown and chewed fingernails flailing armies think back to trench warfare – robust midwives mediate heated discussions as the United Nations blindly support U.S. imperialism looking for kickbacks from energy companies globalization giving all humanity incurable S.T.D.’s – the last free house mouse bounds betwixt the ruins energetically sniffing the rubble seeking some small morsel to satisfy its hunger –
0
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 12:49 PM UTC
dinner bell
We are born unto a crown of thorns. Our tender skin rendered vulnerable to self-made deities, rambling idols. Our minds are roped and tied, binding our thoughts with punishments. Punishments disguised as pathways of love. What love is brought into this world, when love is taught by the bloodshed of others. What people are created with love made from threats of searing flesh? When did love become less about acceptance and more about separating those deemed worth and unworthy? Gods of fear curse our world with tainted versions of love. We are forced to our knees before the power of an almighty being unknown to mankind. In searching for purpose, we have forsaken our freedom. We fall victim to the fears that numb our brains liked "Grade A"  pharmaceuticals. If your god is almighty, all loving, and all seeing, why does he rule without mercy? Why does he require full and complete submission as the only pathway to him? We go to war under the guise of bringing freedom. Our politicians preach out from mountains our right to freedom and free will. But when the votes are cast, and the campaigns are run, we scuttle home to spread the single most imprisoning ideological mindset to others. Why fight for freedom, when we give it away so willing to a man behind smoke and mirrors?
0
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 2:51 AM UTC
Almighty Hypocrites
Silver screen athletes quitting soccer teams to join homophobic friends (redneck quasi outdoors-men) who just want to **** animals angst must be vented lest it boil inside and form a much darker concoction. I beat the horse 'till I couldn't get it wrong even then the faceless desks of power endorse eugenics, pharmaceuticals, and high profile lawyers sentencing me to a life's term teaching Sophocles to an uninterested fifteen year old too busy stroking a Ritalin limp **** to star censored ladies on Vegas stripper cards. And he said "Watch your language" when I said "What the ****
0
Jan 13, 2011
Jan 13, 2011 at 3:10 PM UTC
The Man
We sped along the highway, Faster than two hundred year old clouds; All at once a yellow blur of sunflowers Filled the only view we had. Fields and fields of sunflowers Facing the south sun like a choir; And ready for harvest. Denise remarked she liked the seeds, And the oil is good for pharmaceuticals, etc. We use them a lot, I quipped. But we were in a rush to see Stratford's As You Like It, So they never got a second thought. Til now, you see, For I'm feeling somewhat vacant.
0
Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 7:06 AM UTC
Sunflowers
Generations pass as autonomy eludes us denying us the opportunity to reach for liberality. Indifference, being a predecessor, digs shallow graves in so many ways, Watching heritage that once was become something uncanny, Unrecognizably lingering; lifeless. Racial force fields, forces fields of incarcerated thoughts to take root, Keeping us from seeing beyond ourselves, and The barriers built to keep those out, only keep us, from letting us, to allow others in, and trust is placed on trial, looking at a life sentence of death, unaware of its opportunity to freely avail or elude it’s predicament. If only it would appeal to the counsel of the majority. Stubbornness sometimes refuses to embrace what we know needs to be confronted in order to bring about change, unifying an outside world where life is not always fair and those around us calculate thoughts to hinder our progression. We live in a place of democracy and disdain where street corner pharmaceuticals ****** the weary, where adolescent girls are forced to become teenage mothers or prostitutes, where empty baseball diamonds and dugouts are replaced by thick scaling barb wired walls and gray barred cells, where young men and women trade their age multiplied for the number they will where in a system for life, and where the sound of a crying disappointed child is exchanged for anger and abuse, in the absence of a father or mother figure, figuratively disfigured and lost in translation; an abandonment of generations past. Who will lead and guide us? Who will plead and advocate on our behalf? Who will stand in the gap? Who will lead us past the captive mind to captivate hearts? Who will provide the keys to unlock and break us free? Free from the broken barriers that divide us? ~
0
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
Dividing Barriers
Generations pass as autonomy eludes us denying us the opportunity to reach for liberality. Indifference, being a predecessor, digs shallow graves in so many ways, Watching heritage that once was become something uncanny, Unrecognizably lingering; lifeless. Racial force fields, forces fields of incarcerated thoughts to take root, Keeping us from seeing beyond ourselves, and The barriers built to keep those out, only keep us, from letting us, to allow others in, and trust is placed on trial, looking at a life sentence of death, unaware of its opportunity to freely avail or elude it’s predicament. If only it would appeal to the counsel of the majority. Stubbornness sometimes refuses to embrace what we know needs to be confronted in order to bring about change, unifying an outside world where life is not always fair and those around us calculate thoughts to hinder our progression. We live in a place of democracy and disdain where street corner pharmaceuticals ****** the weary, where adolescent girls are forced to become teenage mothers or prostitutes, where empty baseball diamonds and dugouts are replaced by thick scaling barb wired walls and gray barred cells, where young men and women trade their age multiplied for the number they will where in a system for life, and where the sound of a crying disappointed child is exchanged for anger and abuse, in the absence of a father or mother figure, figuratively disfigured and lost in translation; an abandonment of generations past. Who will lead and guide us? Who will plead and advocate on our behalf? Who will stand in the gap? Who will lead us past the captive mind to captivate hearts? Who will provide the keys to unlock and break us free? Free from the broken barriers that divide us? ~
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37
A touch of Synthetic Blue drips down our tear battered frames before it catches on a match made in hell Becomes an oily twisting saffron cold flame Redefines love as a pact to collectively fall apart Redefines hate as a pop cultural norm As it smolders strife imitates art Another massacre Another overdose Another malignant mass media circus and maybe now you understand inevitability Synthetic Blue is a registered trademark of White Spider Pharmaceuticals, a division of the White Spider Corporation, and is used without permission.
0
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 7:17 PM UTC
Dystopia NOW! (Synthetic Blue)
I've always thought of you But the thought of loosing you, Has driven me to pharmaceuticals. Quit, I know I oughta to, But I just feel the benzos pulling through, What the Hell shall I do? So I try to play it down, Even though its only opie It still aint half as bad as brown. Lets lighten it up, Don't wanna be no dope fiend But like a pent up bull to red I head straight for the shop bought codeine Oh cody, you don't make me swell, If anything man, you make my being well, For that small amount of time I feel I can take on the world Until I get to tomorrow and I feel I've created Hell! All the things we do, Just so we can feel the warmth, Finding our little cliques, Just by the way we talk. Have you tried this, This ones hit and miss, Mix it in with this, For eternal bliss. Now I've heard it all before Nothing improves and nothing changes, But there's something in the brain That promises you can catch that Dragon once again. The Dragon flies high With the fire in his belly, But you haven't any, So why you trying to catch him. (So why do you even try).
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Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 7:19 AM UTC
Dragons
My family doctor suggested bed rest. If that was a statement rather than a suggestion, I wouldn't know, because the redundancy of those two words was enough to keep me idle, awake, agitated for days. It was around the time he carefully scribbled his script onto the blue pad that I began to chuckle. This prefixed prescript was only a temporary solution that was barely legible. Whether or not a scribe in this profession is meant to be as erratic as nomadic cavern canvas, it speaks volumes that the DSM IV considers substantial. Until a once thought preconceived notion becomes precedent in the ongoing sought after expansion of knowledge. A continuation of disorder and disease, the facts and fallacies, all become testing. The standard practice is only as strong as its weakest hypothesis. More so when it becomes general practice. I would like to believe this to be an emergency, but the white-coat before me felt the need to sidetrack, and thought it appropriate to mention youth in Asia. The deadpan humor was disconcerting. But not as unnerving as the redundancies that were given to me as a solution for my sporadic sleep. Some insurance! Reassure me, doctor! So, he did, through his proclivity for pharmaceuticals.
0
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 8:54 AM UTC
The Medical Doctor
when I go it will be impossibly late and I’ll leave you not multi-talented bars or pairs of randy ingots itching to procreate in a splendid explosion of golden delight what I’ll leave you is a stale-air larder filled just this once by dully packaged thoughts and duller feelings when I have them they could only couple if enlivened with musical prodding or the sigh effecting benefits from hands full of mood-altering pharmaceuticals so please yourself instead and don’t put them to any use bury them deep better yet pile them high on Pyrrhic pyres where the gathering scorch will send down leaden puddles while precious platinum curls rise up to trickle trickster tears my greatest possible reward
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Sep 3, 2010
Sep 3, 2010 at 8:54 AM UTC
Parable of incomparable talents
My future Is a retro black and white you can have the hear to eternity Romance can be created did beauty destroy the beast the clicks exist in your mind it's so sad and beautiful that in death we find understanding blue and resting under the moon light let the moment exist or make it happen is there a right or a wrong tread lightly on your ancestors A throw back to the future nomadic minds laid to rest with the modern pharmaceuticals take it back to a place we know a warm comfort  to wrap yourself in but with the knowledge we have let us search for the truth again even if it crushes us
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Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 5:42 AM UTC
Retro
6 sides Latent enabler Counterpoint to truth, amorphic Dada to life Callous Birth Islands dripped in collagen Mystic, effortless life Tempests laden iota in tune Riven Licked flat, obtuse Crescent stench Pagan cells Hazard the thought Pick the Atlantic cherry Reach further than comfort Pushed & consumed Spirited paste Jesuit told in spheres Lament interest, matted quill Totem, Saxon tribe Inflections of hearsay And Swastikas on parade Guilt of the blacksmith, undecided The arms of tablets Ashtrays & tropospheric light Another page turned Capsules filled with perfume Loose skin lost in relics Temporal lobe Cautioned indignant Pardon the prose Sonnets dissolved in ethanol Caricatures of the fleeting Of our cities last broadcast Absorbed by times gone Glittered pestilence Canceling subordinates, powdered Semtex Soup of the sewer Lift the butcher above your head Nazca lines Suborbital Silk screen with ***** Horizontal qualm toward revulsion Incursion Calm, cued and cubed Lab coats coated in pharmaceuticals Base compound, ionic bond Covalent CNS Sympathetic vibration Default to nature To theorise movement Agitate intolerance, turbulence Beautiful thought Calculate causality Passenger of licked lips Token to latex Croft in ear, to taste Unlaced tips, rings of halothane Bliss Intrigued with obscurity
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
Boerdijk–Coxeter helix
Drooling from pharmaceuticals, and being told what's beautiful. Recklessly using our mandibles, and idolizing party animals. No time to get personal, Cuz I must go out and buy the product being scammed on this commercial. Back. Intelligence being blinded by fear, So many don't pay mind, too full of beer and confused why they can't see clear, or even eye to eye with their closest peer. Time spent pointing fingers and wondering why "bad luck" lingers. A society high on measurements and value measured by possessions. The "Iwant" society diseased with obsessions. Sold opinions with television and magazines, Never realizing the atrocities behind the scenes.   More psych evaluations and pills to swallow, Or open love connections and spirituality to follow? Many homeless, while uninhabited homes shows a higher amount.   Pop-culture won't show ya, can the counter-culture even count?   Fatty fast food paired with fast athletes, just to get a meager billion some dollars.  There's still time to change though, which is why we need to bother.   Too cheap to buy selfless items, well then at least pay attention.   See me for clarity, there's a wealth of info I didn't mention.
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Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 6:14 PM UTC
A taste of the Amurican't Dream
The rotten fruit shall be shaken --- W. H. Auden Do they somehow envision sainthood in the homeless or extol the virtue of the millions toiling for minimum wage; see themselves as the feudal overlords of trickle-down, their enormous profits banquet omelets for the common good? You know the politics whereof I speak, the Me, Myself and I of anachronistic yesterdays, the concave years of soup-kitchens supporting high-rise condos and batshit crazy presidential candidates admiring selfies.   I wonder if it's all because they can't reach ****** impotence and pharmaceuticals which fuel our economy? A nation moans from the exhaustion of despair with forgotten cityscapes of odorous blacks and blues.
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Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 6:22 AM UTC
As the Days Decay
Ice Tinkles in Cocktail Glasses, At a Washington Hotel Lobby A Senator Brags about his Hobby It costs a lot of Upkeep to Maintain Racing Stock, Ah but Bridled & Reined Its Worth It, says the Chair of the FDA Committee Over Sight to the Rep From The  Pharmaceuticals Association As they Head to the Corner to whisper The Engineer At Major Automotive Tells them what he Sees for new Parts They are off tolerance But in the Chart It Shows only 3% Fatality, and It saves cash After the Discussion to table it for Now They break out the Bonuses for saving Money Dark Souls Cast Dark Shadows in Life With No Respect For Honesty or Right Can't they see in a Flash, they fly into the Abyss For all their Money..... On a Carpet of Cash
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Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 6:33 PM UTC
Tricked into The Abyss
hallucinating whiteness with pharmaceuticals and weapons tripping on false pretense drunk off indulgence in assumption shooting up black people into police veins morphine government numb to the people America the anesthesiologist of the world apathy is whiteness complacency is getting frustrated about this whiteness is the synthetic LSD that too many people are used to
0
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 11:26 PM UTC
hallucinating whiteness...bad trip
thy kingdom come thy will take place selling health at a premium to the human race forgive us our debts from thy mighty hand or at least allow us an installment plan give us our daily meds but deliver us from evil by providing generic instead
0
Jul 27, 2020
Jul 27, 2020 at 1:56 PM UTC
Lord of Pharmaceuticals
The pilgrim's pull ashore.... Strange glass waves smash their feeble ships... In the meanwhile upon land In the distant abyss..... The wildmen dance in song singing.... Ya ha ha-way! Ya ha ha-way! Ya ha ha-way! Ha ha ** ha ha ha-way Ha ha ** ha ha ha-way........... Connecting to the creator Hellion's to sojourner men Outlandish semblance Blush maroon colored skin... Pinna's stitched into costume As bead's wrap their neck Efflorescence garbs their smiles As sage smokes their chest's Trace bouquet Smell's as oak As the Willow's they do gather Pinecones and nut's the both Are used, eaten, and slathered Tis Their friends with the forest Watchmen of Cimmerian adumbration Not thy average native Not found on t.v stations They follow not the world Nor the things of material crud They gallop exposed All unclothed painted in by the mud Their mundunugu's and isangoma's Their healer's of sickened loma's Their future reader's And old time Greeter's They hash up balm pharmaceuticals And mix in remedy anesthetics Antibiotic doctors Believer's in angelic medic The pioneers come in Scratching their heads Bearing babies of far distance Bringing disease with no end They park their Vessels on edge Of those wild men they call beasts They plant their flag of hatred And the redskin's are forgiving treat's The ivory men draws gun Whilst the natives draw their god The pale man doth run This is native land didst the whitened did trod The natal men's Architect was stronger Against the real true brutes As the shaman sent home those foreigners Back to England and Europe's coupé As when the bleached beau's had left them They went into different song It goes like this Please don't miss These are the original's of the law!!!! They Carol in fire hot dance... Wee hee nah wee hee nah hee nah Wee hee nah hee nah Wee hee nah Wee hee nah hee nah Wee hee nah hee nah Hey **
0
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC
Gado usdi detsadov ( what is your name) native indian dialect!!!
The pilgrim's pull ashore.... Strange glass waves smash their feeble ships... In the meanwhile upon land In the distant abyss..... The wildmen dance in song singing.... Ya ha ha-way! Ya ha ha-way! Ya ha ha-way! Ha ha ** ha ha ha-way Ha ha ** ha ha ha-way........... Connecting to the creator Hellion's to sojourner men Outlandish semblance Blush maroon colored skin... Pinna's stitched into costume As bead's wrap their neck Efflorescence garbs their smiles As sage smokes their chest's Trace bouquet Smell's as oak As the Willow's they do gather Pinecones and nut's the both Are used, eaten, and slathered Tis Their friends with the forest Watchmen of Cimmerian adumbration Not thy average native Not found on t.v stations They follow not the world Nor the things of material crud They gallop exposed All unclothed painted in by the mud Their mundunugu's and isangoma's Their healer's of sickened loma's Their future reader's And old time Greeter's They hash up balm pharmaceuticals And mix in remedy anesthetics Antibiotic doctors Believer's in angelic medic The pioneers come in Scratching their heads Bearing babies of far distance Bringing disease with no end They park their Vessels on edge Of those wild men they call beasts They plant their flag of hatred And the redskin's are forgiving treat's The ivory men draws gun Whilst the natives draw their god The pale man doth run This is native land didst the whitened did trod The natal men's Architect was stronger Against the real true brutes As the shaman sent home those foreigners Back to England and Europe's coupé As when the bleached beau's had left them They went into different song It goes like this Please don't miss These are the original's of the law!!!! They Carol in fire hot dance... Wee hee nah wee hee nah hee nah Wee hee nah hee nah Wee hee nah Wee hee nah hee nah Wee hee nah hee nah Hey **
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67
One hundred and fifty travelers each day Arrive from West African climes. While its clearly insane to let them board planes They can travel on scheduled airlines. If they’re asymptomatic, they enter our ports. Is the government out of its mind? With dishwashers and Laundries our first line of defense Ebola will spread over time. Airline and hotel stocks are selling off big Pharmaceuticals ought to do fine. A nurse who watched Duncan as he sickened and died Flies to Cleveland and back to big D Her temperature was merely ninety nine point five. “.Oh, you’re fine.” said the C-D-C.
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Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 8:31 AM UTC
This Plague could have been prevented
Middle class tragicomedy turning darker everyday breaching past the line of typical dysfunctional with every dark blue bottle of ***** and orange plastic pharmaceuticals fraudlently prescribed black swollen bruises on mom's face ****** up you asleep drink in hand with the tv still on drink while mom cried in the youngest's child's bed the eldest kicked out for doing drugs me on the bathroom floor learning how to disembowl a razor and carve it into my flesh. West Texas camping trip when you bought a motorcycle and said have fun and I crashed into a ditch and snapped my leg in half and the helmet flew off did you know that if you hit your head hard enough everything before and after will feel like a dream? and that's when it all got darker as a 15 year kid dying in West Texas having lost his will to live 1 year earlier on a plane leaving California waking up in an ambulance remembering nothing but knowing two things. My name is Kyle, something bad has happened. Born again in a hospital bed surrounded by strangers claiming to be family. Leg bones snapped in half then drilled with titanium and the pain never went away not for a second you took all of my pain pills you held the medical bills over my head you told me that it was my fault that I crashed and yes it was my fault but I didn't buy the ******* bike and I didn't want to ride the ******* bike and you can say whatever you want because I'm crippled now and my memory is broken and I have a headache that doesn't go away but deep in this broken body of mine there's a silence that speaks for itself there's a sadness that doesn't hate itself anymore there's a tear that refuses to fall there's a hatred reserved only for you there's a love born out of spite a beautiful tortured brilliant love with room for everyone but you my loving father my loving oblivious father sick brained hateful father and me your victim limping away from the scene of your crime that was my childhood.
0
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 11:43 PM UTC
Father of the Year Award
Middle class tragicomedy turning darker everyday breaching past the line of typical dysfunctional with every dark blue bottle of ***** and orange plastic pharmaceuticals fraudlently prescribed black swollen bruises on mom's face ****** up you asleep drink in hand with the tv still on drink while mom cried in the youngest's child's bed the eldest kicked out for doing drugs me on the bathroom floor learning how to disembowl a razor and carve it into my flesh. West Texas camping trip when you bought a motorcycle and said have fun and I crashed into a ditch and snapped my leg in half and the helmet flew off did you know that if you hit your head hard enough everything before and after will feel like a dream? and that's when it all got darker as a 15 year kid dying in West Texas having lost his will to live 1 year earlier on a plane leaving California waking up in an ambulance remembering nothing but knowing two things. My name is Kyle, something bad has happened. Born again in a hospital bed surrounded by strangers claiming to be family. Leg bones snapped in half then drilled with titanium and the pain never went away not for a second you took all of my pain pills you held the medical bills over my head you told me that it was my fault that I crashed and yes it was my fault but I didn't buy the ******* bike and I didn't want to ride the ******* bike and you can say whatever you want because I'm crippled now and my memory is broken and I have a headache that doesn't go away but deep in this broken body of mine there's a silence that speaks for itself there's a sadness that doesn't hate itself anymore there's a tear that refuses to fall there's a hatred reserved only for you there's a love born out of spite a beautiful tortured brilliant love with room for everyone but you my loving father my loving oblivious father sick brained hateful father and me your victim limping away from the scene of your crime that was my childhood.
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53
I am lost under ten feet of hurt Thrown in the deep end, to learn how to swim Or more likely, how to drown With the last sigh of my tired life Now sliding between my teeth Those shiny molars that never did me any good That drop of blood stuck permanently to my lower lip Trembling Under the weight of it's own existence I taste the salt and it's familiar Like sunburns and childhood Like beach sand and mounting anxiety All blooming now before my eyes This skin I wear, this face I adorn Crack at the first sign of tremors Fault lines rip down my spine And rubies run down my skin What destruction has been caused, what hell has been raised All by some omniscient force hiding just over the skyline Blame those smiling pharmaceuticals Who in seventeen years, did not once print a warning label, a DO NOT ENTER, a DEAD END ROAD Who in seventeen years were happy to lend me a life jacket with one hand while tying me to an anchor with the other But when I look down at my hands, The evidence is evident, The facts are gory, the proof is red: Fingernails are stained with my own blood.
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Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 1:13 AM UTC
Fingernails
I am having a hard time. It's my mind, and the world it defines. Blinded by rules and regulations written by those that don't know us, and don't care. The only vulnerability most of us know is when our body's bare.. I too almost forgot how to share. What you see in the mirror is nothin meant to be compared. Weeks are consumed $pending time, for the acquisition of wealth. Months fly by and you start to wonder about the deterioration of your health. These toxic chemicals are cheap, ever flowing addictions resulting in dependencies.  Simple actions can turn into deadly tendencies.  Pharmaceuticals outweigh compassion by a number I can't fathom. Instead of knee-jerk reactions, let's seek to satisfy our passions.  I finally got a mic to record, but I am sick, and my voice is hoarse. I wonder about these humans and their senseless wars. We've been conditioned to unlearn the natural laws of love. It's so easy to think we are singular separate entities from the sky that shines above. We are not alone, and beyond our shells we are always home. We see the world not for what it is, but how we are. When you look up tonight, remember you are that bright, beautiful star. Upon writing this I felt so low. My dear sister hit me up and a smile started to show. I want to cry, and exercise my body to maximize this plane's time. This is just another example of how I release and thrive through the art of rhyme.  So I call this, the illusion of pain and isolation; because initially I was only focused on my frustrations - self-projected hallucinations with no sense of destination.  Breathe your dreams into contemplation within every moment you're facing.  Words enter the frame that can maintain a state of hypnotic paralysis.  Rocks ripple our waters but we can calm our reflective surface.  Blow a kiss, feel the bliss and see purpose in your skit.  Think of the universe when you hurt, because without you, this doesn't exist.
0
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 10:15 PM UTC
The illusion of pain and isolation
I am having a hard time. It's my mind, and the world it defines. Blinded by rules and regulations written by those that don't know us, and don't care. The only vulnerability most of us know is when our body's bare.. I too almost forgot how to share. What you see in the mirror is nothin meant to be compared. Weeks are consumed $pending time, for the acquisition of wealth. Months fly by and you start to wonder about the deterioration of your health. These toxic chemicals are cheap, ever flowing addictions resulting in dependencies.  Simple actions can turn into deadly tendencies.  Pharmaceuticals outweigh compassion by a number I can't fathom. Instead of knee-jerk reactions, let's seek to satisfy our passions.  I finally got a mic to record, but I am sick, and my voice is hoarse. I wonder about these humans and their senseless wars. We've been conditioned to unlearn the natural laws of love. It's so easy to think we are singular separate entities from the sky that shines above. We are not alone, and beyond our shells we are always home. We see the world not for what it is, but how we are. When you look up tonight, remember you are that bright, beautiful star. Upon writing this I felt so low. My dear sister hit me up and a smile started to show. I want to cry, and exercise my body to maximize this plane's time. This is just another example of how I release and thrive through the art of rhyme.  So I call this, the illusion of pain and isolation; because initially I was only focused on my frustrations - self-projected hallucinations with no sense of destination.  Breathe your dreams into contemplation within every moment you're facing.  Words enter the frame that can maintain a state of hypnotic paralysis.  Rocks ripple our waters but we can calm our reflective surface.  Blow a kiss, feel the bliss and see purpose in your skit.  Think of the universe when you hurt, because without you, this doesn't exist.
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1
So I got caught up in life like so many other stiffs. So I work two jobs. So I'm twenty-three. Halfway dead, quarter-way dead - Percentages and figures surmised by a fictional statistician in some far off laboratory wearing a handsome tweed sweater despite the heat, helping to contain his paunch. So doctors have told me beer will **** me. So they advise that I not indulge in any illegal substances. We do not debate the validity of law. The role of fear in today's culture. Hysteria. So I'm on antidepressants. So I'm a candidate for pharmaceuticals. So I drink when I can, which is just about every day. So I had a problem in the past, so I spent a month locked away. So I'm not taking a class. So I'm just about white. So I share a room with Phil and a house with five other young men. So I had *** with a girl I pretty much just met. So my drugs are right next to my bed. So my urine's ***** So I'm a brother and a son. So I'm my own man.
0
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 3:40 PM UTC
To be decided
When I look into the mirror Each morning after dawn To peruse the wrinkled skin And slack musculature drawn, When I snore upon the couch Before flashing TV screen To be woken by my sweetheart For a dinner yet unseen. There’s an overriding likelihood That achievements made to date Will be my lot for evermore.... An admission that I hate! And the scent of hot seduction Though a feature of my youth, Shall be confined to flash of fantasy Amidst pains in nagging tooth. Enduring twinge of aching joints To the whistling in the ears And the apnoea of sleeplessness Which just consolidates the fears. Homeopathy has promise To the happy road to health But pharmaceuticals are farming For my meagre worldly wealth. Though the promise of the afterlife Which held aloft on high, Presents a gaggle of good churches Who will proffer you the sky. Best to form your own religion With philosophy of POW! To say" IT’S ALL ABOUT ME, BROTHER" AND I WANT MY YOUTH BACK NOW!! Marshalg Wielding the Gold Card with an impotent flourish AUCKLAND 25 January 2012
0
Jan 24, 2012
Jan 24, 2012 at 8:14 PM UTC
Prayer of the Baby Boomers