Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Michael Marchese Apr 2017
Prometheus ignites to spark this
Molotov to make his Marxist
On swine Fuhrer's Faux News tweet
Hashtag it #GorbachevWallStreet
'Cuz Putin's puppet Pinochet's
Whipped Creme de Kremlin's CIA  
From JFK to Allende
Like Russian roulette ricochet
I'll Trotsky through McCarthy's brains
Leave slain these ****** sugar Keynes   
Discred' the Fed’s six-figureheads
With strikes at dawn more red than Debs  
Still breakin' breads with Mulan Bouges
Makin' men of Khmer Stooges
Seein’ Rouge when Al Spans Greens
Potemkin loan wolf ponzi schemes
Who count the sheep like Philippines
Then Black Pearl Harbor GRANMA’s dreams...

Of Marilyn Monroes in store
Just off-shore ****** who **** the poor
A Glass of Steagall's broken trust
Half emptier than bowls of dust
In rust beltways still spewin’ fumes
As factories become Khartoums
No carbon footprint tax the hint
Of Amazon decays in Flint
Just pop the caps and drown in debt
Like Kent State drinkin' to forget
That cuttin’ class engenders race
Leaves glory, gold and God's disgrace
To slaughter Moor than Reconquista  
From Marti to Sandinista     
With Zapata sharin’ crops  
Till my Mexica heartbeat stops

I'm Pancho infiltratin’ villas
The Magilla of guerillas
In the midst of Congolese  
Same colonies, just different thieves
To me, my breed’s of landless deeds
So how you like ‘dem Appleseeds?
FReeducatin’ caves of youth
Fed Citizen’s United Fruit
‘Cuz now my open eye of Horus
Battle cries Grito de Lares
Che is centered in these veins
So my Ashoka takes the reigns
These Iron paci-Fists pack hits
Like Jimi on some Malcolm ****
Still Hajj mirages I barrage
The Raj with sheer Cong camouflage

Deployin' Sepoys on viceroys
And pol desPots’ in the employs
Of Tweedledums who run the slums
With country clubs of loaded guns
These Betsy Deez bear arms to school
Till no kids fly kites in Kabul
So gas-mask your Sharia flaw
I'll Genghis Khan Sheikoun it raw  
'Cuz refugees are rising
And we're anti-socializing
Subsidizing private party plans
Who take commands from ***** hands
These grand old klans coup klux control
Your diamond minds with mines of coal
An oil Standardized existence
Solar powers my resistance

******* sun of Liberty  
My fear itself is history  
Rewriting wrongs of Leo’s creed
In culture’s blood and vulture’s greed
An alt-right/all-white cockpile   
Stockpilin' human capital
In tricklin’ contests over spoils
Of the cotton-ceded soils
Jingos chained to Cruci-fictions
Swallowin' good Christian dictions
I spit Spanish Inquisition
Trippin' Socrates sedition
Droppin' Oppen's fission quest
For "now I am become death"
'Cuz G-bay pigs in-Fidel's sites
Flew U-2's into my last rights

These Saddamites, I smite Assad
Then spread 'em like Islamabad
Convert for-profit prison tsars
From Escobars to Bolivars 
Like currency in Venezuela
Current police-state favela
Where 9/10th's of your possession's
Worth less than your Great Depression’s
Upscale bail ‘em outs of jail
With Dodd-Frank banks too big to fail
Your FDA-approved psychosis
From Campos’ daily dose of
More defense? Here’s my two cents
These slave wages ain’t excrements
So just say no to Reaganomics    
Got us hooked, but not on phonics

Just that Noriega strain
Of Contras stackin' crack contain
Like MAD dogs who trade weapons-grades  
For Ayatollah hate tirades
On “don’t ask, don’t tell” plague ebonics
Drug crusAID Jim Crow narcotics     
Warsaw rats injected, tested,
Quarantined, and then arrested
Guess the J. Arbenz' lens
Still Tet offends their ethnic cleanse
Still Wounding Knees of Standing Sioux
Till Crazy Horses stampede you   
For Mother Nature’s common ground
My Martin Luther’s gather ‘round
Is hellbound sounds of Nero’s crown  
Let's burn this Third World Reichstag down

Vox populyin’ to remove ‘ya
Like Lumumba then Nkrumah
So some Pumbaa kleptocrat
Declares himself the next Sadat
To hide supply-side Apartheid
Increase demand for genocide
So check your factions in Uganda  
Tune into Hotel Rwanda
Come play pirates with Somalis
Then desert ‘em like Benghazis
Thirst for blood so French Algiers  
It boils mine in Trails of Tears  
My destiny unManifest-
Oppressive Adam-Smitten West
So pay your overdues to Mao
I’ll Mussolini Chairman Dow

Then flood this 9th ward Watergate
With killing fields of glyphosate
I'll redistribute IMF’s
With Left so deft you’d think it’s theft
I’ll My Lai massacre these lines
With sweet Satsuma samurhymes
I'll make these Madoff Hitlers squeal
With that Bastille New Deal cold steel
Now feel that Shining Pathos wrath
Drop Nagasaki aftermath
On Nanjing kings and dragon’s Diems
With ****** bodhisattva zens
To show you how I pledge allegiance
With razed flags still rapt in Jesus  
Laosy liars pogrom psalms
Can’t Uncle Phnom my Penh’s truth bombs

On heroes shootin' ******
My fix is un-American
Tiananmen democracies
To Syngman Rhee hypocrisies  
Theocracies drive me Hussein
With Bush league’s mass destruction claim
So I dig laissez pharaohs graves
With pyramids of Abu Ghraibs
Then nail their coffers closed like Vlad
I AM THE GHOST OF STALINGRAD
My hammer forged in winters past
My sickle reaps the shadows caste
By pantheons of penta-cons
Whose Exxons lead to autobahns
When liberal Arts of War and Peace in
Free speech teach my voice of treason
“Fascism will come to America wrapped in a flag and carrying a cross”
-Sinclair Lewis
Terry O'Leary Jul 2015
As dawn unfolds today beyond my fractured windowpane,
a breeze beguiles the ashen drapes. Like snakes they slip aside,
revealing wanton worlds that race and run aground, insane,
immersed in scenes obscene that savants strive to mask and hide.

Outside, the twisted streets retreat. Last night they seemed so cruel.
While lamps illumed lithe demons dancing neath the gallows tree,
their lurking shadows shuddered as they breached the vestibule.
Within the gloom strange things abound, I sense and sometimes see.

Perdu in darkened doorways (those which soothe the ones who weep)
men hide their shame in crevices in search of cloaked relief.
The ladies of the evening leave, it’s soon their time to sleep!
The alleyways are silent now but taste of untold grief.

Distraught nomadic drifters (dregs who stray from street to street)
abandon bedtime benches, squat on curbs they call a home,
appeal to passing strangers for a coin or bite to eat.
Rebuffed, they gaze with icy eyes that chill the morning gloam.

Observe with me once more, beyond my fractured windowpane,
the broken boy with crooked smile, the one who's seen the beast.
With tears, he kneels and clasps the cross to exorcise the stain.
The abbey door along the lane enshrouds a pious priest.

At nearby mall, Mike needs a cig, and stealth'ly steals a pack.
The Man, observing, thinks ‘Hey Boy, this caper calls for blood’,
takes aim, then shoots the fated stripling six times in the back.
Come, mourn for Mike and brother Justice, facedown in the mud.

The shanty town has hunkered down engaged in mortal sports
while shattered bodies' broken bones at last repose supine,
and mama (now bereft of child) in anguished pain contorts,
her eyes drip drops of bitter wrath which wither on a vine.

Fatigued and bored, some kids harass the crowded alley now.
To pass the time, Joe smokes a joint and Lizzy snorts a line.
The NRA (which deals with doom) can sometimes help somehow,
though Eric died with Dylan in ‘The Curse of Columbine’.

Marauders scam the marketplace (with billions guaranteed)  
while babes with bloated bellies beg with barren sunken eyes,
and (cut to naught) the down-and-out (like trodden beet roots) bleed.
Life's carousel confronts us all, though few can ring the prize.

Yes, Mr Madoff, private bankster (cruising down the road,
with other Ponzi pushers, waving magic mushroom wands),
adores addiction to the bailout (coffers overflowed),
and jests with all the junkies, while they’re bilking us with bonds.

A timeworn washerwoman totters, stumbling from a tram -
she shuffles to her hovel on a dismal distant hill,
despondent, shuts the shutters, prays then downs her final dram -
a raven quickly picks at crumbs forsaken on her sill.

Jihadist and Crusader warders faithfully guard the gates,
behead impious infidels, else burn them at the stake
(yes, God adores the faithful side, the heathen sides He hates),
with saintly satisfaction reaped begetting pagan ache.

All day the watchers skulk around our fractured windowpanes
inspecting all our secret thoughts, our realms of privacy,
controlling every point of view opinion entertains,
forbidding thoughts one mustn't think, with which they don’t agree.

Our rulers (kings and other things) have often made demands
of populations breathing air on near or distant shores
and when they didn’t yield and kneel, we conquered all their lands
with sticks and stones, then bullets, bombs and battleships in wars.

Come, cast just once a furtive glance… there's something in the far…
from towns to dunes in deserts dry, the welkin belches death
by dint of soulless drones that stalk beneath a straying star
erasing life in random ways with freedom’s dying breath.

But closer lies an island, where the keepers grill their wards.
Impartial trials? A travesty, indeed quite Kafkaesque.
The guiltless gush confessions, born and bred on waterboards.
No sense, no charges nor defense. A verdict? Yes, grotesque!

Now dusk is drawing near outside my fractured windowpane
while mankind wanes like burnt-out suns in fading lurid light;
and scarlet clots of grim deceit and ebon beads of bane
flow, deified, within a corpse, the fruit of human blight.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2015
.english black humour is peppered with sarcasm,
english humour is sarcasm...
watching the gaelic version
is like watchings the irish try to be subtle by being rude,
doesn’t work... normas proved it defeating the saxons...
and subsequently the celtic brides roared in encore!
it really doesn’t work... the polish fraction of me still intact
to remind me of the biology that still works served
the reminder: polish history is still orientated
on the european continent, eastern europe
is not a segregated "continent" that might contend
with england and france being ante-antarctica...
never engage a celt with british humour for guy fawkes or anyone
else in the missing ditto;
celtish or cultish... i never quiet know...
enter the celtish brides... encouraging the advent of copulation
and the excesses of tax to build linear ceramic imprints
of broken bricks, that made it into ratio of
the chiseled brick worth a heavyweight contention with
heated mortar dough; oh right, pooh bear you're offended...
deal with it! unless your uncle is denoted as
adolf ****** and you want him resurrected!
shakespeare never wrote the play: the merchant of mecca,
did he? poor shylock... i was almost caught in admiration
of what english students at 16 thought of that national pride...
known as the *****-bride to **** for an A at a-level.


they still sound out of breath,
out of anything,
esp. words...
they all sound to totem no animal
rather than an ****
which in ceramic wilderness
sounds like wild ****...
where’s the monochromatic monotone
of the drunken sailor going by the name
of st. peter?
fisherman turned sailor... that’s a first...
why didn’t jesus pick barabbas rather than judas?
was it cain that got in the way?
i bet it was. well nox awaits both thief and murderer...
those engaged with rabbanic arts
tend to treat dreams less seriously...
and those that don’t tend to treat dreams more seriously...
those that treat dreams seriously endear the sole
escapism of reality quite seriously...
and for those that don’t... well... there’s the zodiac algebra
and that’s right for a mummified expression
that was bandaged into a circumcised *******.

p.s.
rhyming poetry has spawned the most pointless
ibhibitions of rhythm poetics,
all the current poets sound
    verärgert... exasperated...
    is everyone seriously a ******* goldfish
catching their breath a second time?!
you want to know the most fun thing
i've ever did, today?
i started to tickle my maine ****'s
inner ear with a chicken's egg...
he raised his paw,
he tried to scratch himself...
"something" there was a schizophrenic
violing playing in his cranium,
rather: the temple of his ear...
i was lucky in having to: kitzteln (titillate)
him with an egg...
a chicken abortion i'd probably
consume come tomorrow's breakfast
hour...

             he felt it, the giggles...
the giggles from annoyance being rubbed
the "wrong way"...
so much to say about a woman
whom i attempted to pick a nose
in earning affection of seeing:
the "green fairy" take a ****,
take to farting, breaking the magic of
the feminine persona of "unfathomable" /
unfailable...

            genius: an egg inserted
into a cat's ear to tickle... eating an abortion
the next morn...
                                    all the woes
of the world seem so insignificant when
you buy into feline idiosyncracies...
after all... there's no leash...
no kaganiec...
             there is no stipend associated
with the timing of walkies...
cats are perfectly disorientated by
their own selves: or rather,
their senses...

              you learn atheism from people,
but?! you learn solipsism from cats!
you learn atheism to sound
intellectually superior, sound,
"sensible"...
solispsism you learn from cats...
god or no god...
you are first, you are the last,
while god? "someone" in the middle...
can god be associated to pronouns?
or is god a pure noun: excavation
machina pro grata?
well... if god was ever a person,
being, anti-tool...
wouldn't "he" be a persona non grata?!
well then!
  machina pro grata:
                the noun spin "mr."...

man was never in search of god:
the objective reality remained true as
it always remained...
man was forver bound to the search
of god: via the subjective
personification of said "object"...

      how do you think the muslims
deal with this conundrum?!
they think they are gratifying everyone
else with an objective reality
of god, while they themselves,
with the polytheistic splinter of the gods,
are themselves searching for
the subjective reality of their god...
a person, a personality...
to the muslims their god speaks
the same objective truth as the sort
of truth a pagan might adhere to...
they want to know: a person to speak to,
rather than an object they can throw...

modern poetry when performed is ****,
it all sounds the same...
that overtone of exasperation...
me? i'm not speaking...
itchy finger-tips: idle hands:
the devil's due...
      i'm not speaking among these
youths... it's like that h'american beauty
quote...

ricky fitts: but it helps me remember...
i need to remember...
sometimes there's so much beauty in the world,
i feel like i can't take it,
     and my heart is just going to cave in.

lester burnham - whatever he said
about the balloon not being filled with helium...
but with all the bureucratic custody
via custard like some zeno paradox
of a tortoise outrunning achilles...
               the beauty can remain...
to enchant the easily impressionable...
after all: you "only live once"!
the beauty will always remain...
hence the seasons...
               but there's only one
impressionable aspect of this reality...
the thought you leave with...
the thought, implying:
the lost aspect of a moral (th)ought
to be envisioned in it not being
sentenced to a maxim
    or a proverb...
                       or a lesson...
after all... once man grows old:
he's no longer fond of learning,
but overtly eager to teach...
         i'm neither... 33...
who am i to learn from or teach for?
teaching by mistakes?
       no one really teaches by example...
unless on a pure technical canvas
associated with a trade or a tool...
which life is neither!

what is the west selling as their... "capitalism"...
their next ponzi scheme of "made in... chi'nah?!"
this, this is capitalism?!
i remember days when gap shirt
lifted the words: made in canada....
quality... would last you 20 years...
the wool wouldn't thin, the colours
wouldn't fade...
                    capitalism my ***, these days!
i came to the promised land,
i remained: with broken bones
            and ****** make-up tutorials....

for all the belief in man,
and this, non-existent fear of god,
savvy,
      upon the sacred altar of
the debauchery of prometheus,
upon the sacrifices of a.i. atlas...
upon: will electricirty ever replace fire...
who stole the rod of zeus
beside promothian thief who came
back with the eternal fire of Odin?
who?!
my kindred: alas!
                     and to what end?!
to the end without any surprise...
for the cosmopolitan cul de sac:
screaming at a brick wall pretending
to talk to one one but brick!
    
  i too visited: Krzyżtopór, in the village of Ujazd,
   Iwaniska commune, Opatów County...
how... the categories congregated
with implosions to make a ground:
specific...
  what would be the categorical imperative
for the congregative consumate
orientation of said narrative?

     even my grandfather remembers
the famous debackle concerning
Alfried Krupp von Bohlen und Halbach...
i do come from a family
of metallurgy... or coal-mining...
  both as true as these coal-riddle hands
supposing ink in pixel...
  
come on... the Schwerer Gustav?
the gun of all guns?! the one with the sort
of recoil that demanded train lines
to incubate the impact?!

modern, spoken, poetry, bores, me...
it's simply exasperated...
  exasperated by rhyme,
exasperated with rhyme,
exasperated outside of rhyme...
i'm listening to clones...
i don't won't to write modern poetry,
simply because:
i will not recoil with a take
on modern poetry...
  i don't do exasperated...
as much as i adore olivia gatwood's:
manic pixie dream girl...
yes, a ref. to the garden state movie...
the shins: new slang...
yeah... i did that **** in edinburgh...
climbing the scaffold...
erected around new college...
dancing on the roof with myself at night...
watching the *****-bank fluoride
white above the firth of forth one night...

but that's what i find really evil...
you know how in the movies,
the actors and actresses brush their teeth...
but never rinse?!
instead? keep that toothpaste in their mouths?!
******* never rinse!
that's evil... i'll tell you:
brush witha  pea-sized dollop, then rinse...
all the movies you see will never show you
a person rinse their teeth after brushing...
you should look into rinsing...
and? you'll never lose weight by going
to the gym...
you'll get stretch-marks, for sure...
there are only two ways to lose weight:
bicycle or swim...
swim or bicycle... better... both!

going to the gym will not help you...
you'll need plastic surgery!
but hollywood movies are evil this way...
they portray people washing their teeth
without spitting out the excess toothpaste
and not rinsing their mouths...
with water...

            who does that?!
hollywood is the next dentistry monopoly?!
pea sized amount of paste,
at the end of the day will do,
and then please spit,
then rinse with water...
don't just do what hollywood bad teeth
brigade do...
keep that paste in your mouth
like car battery acid / fluoride!

   pea sized brush once a day,
spit, rinse... slide your tongue over
your teeth to feel the sheen of
           ivory mingling with glass.

i hate modern poetry, why is everyone pretending
to be asthamtic, exasperated, out-of-breath?
with the same punctuation "all of a sudden"?
**** if i'm going to speak,
i'm not speaking...
             not in this climate...
edinburgh 2006...
  that's when i wanted to speak...
but then my eyes stole my tongue and told me
to listen.
i've been listening every since...
and...
i haven't even registered one hearing
of an echo since then.
Aaron LaLux Mar 2017
American Dream

Losing it one memory at a time,
how can I keep track of my friends all over the world,
how did America become a shell of it’s former Self,
what happened to the my American Dream?

I mean,
I have everything,
every,
thing,

been to every continent still not at all content,
really though mostly because I don’t know the reason,
for my discontentment I’m in contempt when I try and defend Consciousness,

because most people don’t want to hear it,
myself usually included,
but this day is different an exception to the rule,
in a moment when nothing is excluded,

all inclusive with no illusion to allude to,
only positive punctual true proof,
that ever experience we gain,
is another memorie we lose,

and I suppose that’s the trade off sort of,
lost my money got my freedom feeling strung out like Adolf,
in this Waking Dream that's beginning to feel like a Ponzi Scheme,
was gonna blow the whistle on the whole thing until I got paid off,

hey Madoff,
I just got laid off,
or rather laid on,
a beautiful bed by a beautiful mare that's more like a Stallion,

and that’s the difference,
between the Exceptions to the Rule,
and the “normal human beings”,
I’m between and Exception and the Rules,

I’m losing things but Perfection costs a lot of jewels,
so I'm donating all my Championship rings and useful tools,

got,

to pay the Piper,
there’s a toll at the bridge,
and a troll under the bridge,
and I'm tough not a Billy Goat Gruff with,

Red,
Hot Chili Peppers,
with Kiedis in Budapest,
got The Good Life high as Ini the Hotstepper,

whatever,
nothing seems normal,
shouldn’t be so formal,
let the record play let the drums roll,

in times of gargoyles and turmoil,
having a drink at the bar and it's purple,
at Gresham Palace Bar & Lounge,
up high and getting down with a surplus,

outstanding,
with Anthony in Budapest,
at the Four Seasons Hotel,
on the River Danube,

the River Danube,
brings up memories,
of Lovers and Poems,
and all of the things that continue to make Me,

me and my memories,
I remember you and yours too,
when we walked across that bridge,
above the River Danube...

I can’t stand Truth,
He can be such a fickle creature when He’s free,
and I’m losing memories it’s true I just hope I’m not also losing you,
because She can be such a fickle creature when She’s free,

losing,
one round at at time,
gaining,
on ground that was never mine,

and I know you don’t know the answers,
“But excuse me could you at least tell me the time?”,

to this you turn from your Enamore,
“Well since you asked I’ll tell you it’s almost One Two.”,
in other words what you said,
was it’s almost 12 which makes this the 11th Hour of Youth,
and I know we’re losing all of our memories,
but the only thing I fear losing is you,

Because I’m,
I’m,
I’m,
losing it,

Losing it one memory at a time,
how can I keep track of my friends all over the world,
how did America become a shell of it’s former Self,
what happened to the my American Dream?

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Aaron LaLux Aug 2018
Mumok Museum [24]

What am I doing in Vienna,
staring at cold sterile pop art as the whole entire world we're on burns,
in a city I never wanted to go to,
doing things that never really seemed that inspiring,

& it's not that I have an antipathetic attitude towards these pathetic fools,
in fact it's actually just the opposite of that because I'm an actual optimist,
which is why I don't feel inspired by bored cyborgs their wires or their tools,
& precisely why I'd rather gather flowers than be an actor for their power,

see I find more inspiration in a single leaf on a single tree by a river bank,
than from all the colors & lines contained within the walls of this museum,
which is why when I'm asked all the time what kind of poetry I read,
I reply I don't even read poetry see I don't find it in books I find it in seasons,

It's the same reason I don't need to go to church to pray,
because I don't need my messages from God to be translated by a human,

anyways where am I at & what am I doing?

Oh yeah Im at a museum in Vienna wondering where the inspirations gone,
& why everything seems so excruciatingly tiring,
see it seems we’re on the verge of a collective mental breakdown,
at the same time like we're on the precipice of a collective enlightening,

either way the system’s short circuiting & could do with some rewiring.

Why does every rags to riches story I know of those that've made it,
end in an overpriced designer outfit at home bored all alone & jaded?

Why is Consumerism followed like a religion,
I mean we're all made of the same DNA strands regardless of name brands,
I mean everything is just carbon hydrogen & oxygen anyways,
which may explain why materialism is immanent in every independent man,

while an apocalypse seems undeniably immanent &,
we dwell in the highest heights ever built still we don't totally understand,

we don’t worship Jesus we worship Visa,
putting good credit ahead of good morals,
don’t praise Muhammed in a daze we say our grace in front of TV Dramas,
no Buddha dreams just computers screens no real friends just PayPals,

& maybe that’s why it's easier to be blind than to see,
maybe that’s why we hide in museums behind Valentino sunglasses,
because we'd rather have expense tastes than be free,
but when you’re behind any type of four walls you’re trapped in,
whether on a Penthouse terrace with Paris in Paris,
or doing hard-time for white collar crimes with Madoff in a Federal pen,
either way we’re victims of our own additions trying to buy more time,
but running out of credit as banks are collapsing & the recession is relapsing,

so why even buy things when we know not so secretly,
that only Love will set us free from these retro restrictions & their trappings,

see,

the best things in life still are still free,
& yeah liberation is expensive & self renovations are extensive,
but freedom is priceless so live a life that's righteous,
seems that the Love Pyramid is the only pyramid that’s not a Ponzi scheme,

because we are all equal even if we’re not all treated equally,
that’s why some have no clothes while others wear designer denim jeans,
but these Diesels're 2 tight on my thighs this macabre carnival has no prize,
& I can do anything I want with my life but all I really want to do is breathe,

breathe,

breathe because this lifestyle is expensive,
but freedom is priceless,
even though they'll try to capitalize off of anything,
so they market it & try to price it,

I just,
want to find a place to relax & release,
& be free of all of this,
find true love & say “Fck off to the politicians & all their politics!”,

fck their programs fck their projects,
fck their ugly agendas dressed in artificially splendid splendor,
fck their quotas & their motives for treating human beings as objects,
fck their pre-programed consumerist culture of conmen capitalists,

fck there putting machines over human beings,
just to increase the place where their profit sits,
& I say all of this regardless of who it offends because I'm not an Apologist,
I'm more of a Lyrical Pharmacist,
who serves indiscriminate prescriptions in the form of transcriptions,
in order to assist in the additions that come from positive developments,
which will occur for sure once we switch the position we currently sit in,
& restore Divine Order once more in the name of Humankind's betterment,

in the game of life I play,
they know I'm so official that I don't even need a Letterman,

I just,
don’t know what else to say,
I don’t know why I’m at this museum in Vienna,
hiding away on the top floor writing this to you on a Sunday,

on the 5th floor got it all but I just want to give more,
I just want to gift these words then make my escape,
don't you get it I don't want to get more ****t,
if anything I just want to find a way to give more of what I have away,

just want to be alone,
but also want these words to be known so the truth can be shown,
but where do you go when you’re tired totally over it all,
& all you want to do is rest & write these poems,
but even with all you have you still don't know where to go,
because even with all these things you still don't have a home...

Hello,
could you please pick up the phone,
I’m calling because I still love you,
& I want to come back to you even though I know I’m already gone,

currently on the top floor of the Mumok museum in Vienna,
the floor is the 5th to be exact,
& yeah it’s true that I don’t know where I’m going,
but what I do know is I don’t think I’m ever coming back,

online & off track,
writing more words with more rhymes,
than any other living writer in contemporary times,
& no I'm not lying 'cause I'd never lie to you & yes those are both actual facts,

& yeah that’s a fact & yeah you can Google that,
but I’m going to follow that fact with a question,
before I forget to mention,
let me just ask you what I'm doing here in Vienna?



What am I doing in Vienna,
staring at cold sterile pop art as the whole entire world we're on burns,
in a city I never wanted to go to,
doing things that never really seemed that inspiring,

& it's not that I have an antipathetic attitude towards these pathetic fools,
in fact it's actually just the opposite of that because I'm an actual optimist,
which is why I don't feel inspired by bored cyborgs their wires or their tools,
& precisely why I'd rather gather flowers than be an actor for their power,

see I find more inspiration in a single leaf on a single tree by a river bank,
than from all the colors & lines contained within the walls of this museum,
which is why when I'm asked all the time what kind of poetry I read,
I reply I don't even read poetry see I don't find it in books I find it in seasons,

It's the same reason I don't need to go to church to pray,
because I don't need my messages from God to be translated by a human,

anyways where am I at & what am I doing?

∆ Aaron LaLux ∆

from The Holy Trilogy Vol. 2: Mandalas
available worldwide 08/08/18
Third Eye Candy Mar 2013
you are the light at the end of a tendril. a spindle of dread, woven in caustic guile of argyle
parallelograms...phantom realms of solid waste. you are the pin in the subject. gating satan through a thimble
of crocodile tears, the new symbol.
the rude glyph in black bibles and strong drink, en-kindling the dead. rodents ponzi the scheme
of hell’s maze, with lies...your lies...
you have  eyes that  lead aside from your heart’s plot
you are saboteur. banal.
unrestrained waste. you are the fin in the barracuda puppet, grazing the wrist of Dim Henson
huffing crystal gorillas in the congo of your foyer
you are
the black chandelier.

teach me your cheap trick
striking off ‘ iron-on’  pinkie swears
your praline heresies... your  ‘ no remorse’    code
lay bare to me.

better my better angels,  to fathom the loathsome ****
of your actual mind. keep me abreast of your wretched games...
apply the rod of your wrong  love, above all.... you must betray.
you must know in your fetid rot
of a third eye... the phlegm genius of **** blindness.... teach me the rictus of
cold hearted.  a false god in my lotus !

spare me the chaste suzette
flip me the ***** that spits fables.
learn me the savage puns
to pummel you         sustaining your worst done.
grant me the lethal beans for my sacred cow
trade me the idylls of your forked heart
for your crushed null
and crossed
bones.
Nat Lipstadt Jan 2014
My Curator

I can't remember,
what I can't remember

new items arrive daily.
name of the restaurant,
where I ate dinner
last night

the name of the movie show
I saw last week,
the last place my glasses
went looking for me,
lucky me, only one key,
hanging around my neck,
easy peasy,
just trying to find which apartment
it's for

I can't remember,
what I can't remember

the first poem ever wrote,
the first poem ever loved,
written conceived while I ever wept,
cause
found some old ones and thought
hey, that kid is pretty good

I can't remember,
what I can't remember
when and how I knew,
what now you know
as well

what matters this, little

quote the kids,
last week is well,
so last week
or even better,
whatever...

yesterday, last week, last year
have all merged,
old men drivers, riding in the slow lane,
where the speed limit signs are reminders
go faster, keep up

the memory surplus, surfeit,
now purged, forfeit,
fear of droning,
my inspirations
grown decrepit,
forces desperate,
less than adequate creativity,  
trying to pour poems Beaujolais,
before they can age,
decant, evaporate,
poisoned by oxygenation
sour turning, stupid smiling,
cause I know you from someplace,
are you a clear and present danger?

I remember plenty
of glimpses and snatchery.,
but the incoming data flow
has strained my 50's circuitry.
these memories, onboarded
now a single product
of a mass hatchery,
all eggs are indistinguishable,
therefore they exist,
therefore I was once

electronic calendar
keeps my schedule,
thus my native personality
type A,
kept in line,
the pills work,
from time to time

so I am
where I was supposed to be,
a necessary
but insufficient conditionality,
pour justifier mon existence

the mission critical stuff,
the weave, the sensibility,
the collections of sensations
of another's hand
on my back as I write,
declining, felt their dying,
having arrived at the
skinny part of the tail
of the normal curve
of natural ability

alas,  alack,
too many poems dying stillborn

I have newly employed
a curator

sadly he (she?) will not
cure me,
nor save my soul,
tho he wears
a collar of white
around his neck,
and a stethoscope
over one wing,
a recorder on the other

his wage dear,
sold him my best jewels

Paying costly
for my Ponzi scheme
of reusing
words previously employed,
deeded ownership of the accidental newbies,
the old ones in the sewing box,
both now his property,
but at least, saved.

I cannot write
the name of what stands between  
you and I,
tween tip of tongue
and visions of past,
but future visions, pace taken,
they will survive
should they arrive again

you reader, you are
a familiar face

are you not my
savior,

My Curator?

10:45 AM
Sept. 3rd, 2012
Labor  Day
Sometimes Starr Sep 2018
Ellen DeGeneres!
Mellow and generous,
Mellow and generous,
Ellen DeGeneres.

X2

How can we peddle this,
Greedy degenerates?
Mellow and generous,
Mellow and generous.

I was just reppin it
You cannot step to it,
Ellen DeGeneres,
Ellen DeGeneres!

bass drop

I am not popular
My, what a thot you were!
You should be jealous of
Ellen DeGeneres!

like Meek

I was just a lost boy
Never understood the cost boy
Never really worked a market
But I never really liked the market

I just wanna overcome the darkness
I just wanna wanna make the sun shine
I guess I really want love to be great again
**** all this hate again
Cause I see you're vicious like a shark is

I am so done with the corporate mind
Grinding machinery, that's not my kind
You are not kind, you are so shy
Scrapin the sky
Fake **** and lies

You think you know what I'm talking about.
I am a poet with way too much clout.
I hate the way that this hatred compounds,
You're just a clown! You make me frown.

Simultaneously
Unh!
Ellen DeGeneres!
Mellow and generous,
Mellow and generous,
Ellen DeGeneres.

Ellen DeGeneres
She's on my friends list!
Mellow and generous,
Ellen DeGeneres!

How can we peddle this,
Greedy degenerates?
Mellow and generous,
Mellow and generous.

Reppin this Emmy ****,
Dressing too fabulous,
Ellen DeGeneres,
Ellen DeGeneres!

bass drop

I am not popular
My, what a thot you were!
You should be jealous of
Ellen DeGeneres!

I'm never gonna let my heart grow cold like that,
Never gonna do just what I'm told like that
That ****'s old, my man
That ****'s sold, my man
That ****'s got us got us lookin' sideways in the fold, my man

Cause I think I hear a higher callin
Human race is fallin but you're stallin
I know you don't think you're Josef Stalin
But I think you look like Charles Ponzi,
Oo

(Sung)
My girl's not a cheater
So I don't think I really want to either
I don't think I ever wanna leave her
Iy just. want to. love,
Said Iy just. want to. love,
Said Iy just. want to. love.

(And party hard.)

Ellen DeGeneres!
Mellow and generous,
Mellow and generous,
Ellen DeGeneres.

Ellen DeGeneres
She's on my friends list
Mellow and generous,
Ellen DeGeneres!

How can we peddle this,
Greedy degenerates?
Mellow and generous,
Mellow and generous.

Reppin this Emmy ****,
Dressing too fabulous,
Ellen DeGeneres,
Ellen DeGeneres!

bass drop

I am not popular
My, what a thot you were!
You should be jealous of
Ellen DeGeneres.

You should be jealous.

Ellen DeGeneres.

Reppin it, reppin it.

Ellen. Loooooove
bleh Nov 2014
..
….
…...
….....
…...........
…..................
…............
­….....................
…............
….........................
…­.................
….....
barometric tendrils
psuedo-random and hybrid sets
growing like ivy in the clutches of time
such a
           chocking
                   but actualising
    grasp

..huh? what?
oh yes! sorry, sorry
come in, come in,
                       ..you know,
I too, once, like how you are now,
was here too
                          so
                                 very
                                            very
                                                       present.
Aha! Oh yes!
Permit me a mock stifled cry of ostentatious self derision,
'hee hee hee'
aaaaaahhh..
I really was pitiful back then.
seeing you there now, I feel oh so whimsical and overcome
with
ahem
sorry.
..dank and musty cellars,
    hashish and a can of beans.
(baked, not fried, -we were really naive enough to believe that?- )
had it all back then though, didn't we?
By which I mean we had nothing,
but the conviction
that obligation was something that actually meant something
rather than a Cryptocurrency in a Ponzi scheme,
                                                            (with a slice of lemon)
confidence intervals stockpiled in the stocks of confidence men.
Derivative markets
oh, so very much so
                        so very
                            derivative
                                  idiomatic
                                        and *******
                                              asinine.  

..Still, it does harken to its era, doesn't it?
'detached and disposable.'
toothpicks
limbs
ideals
all that
goodness!
I was supposed to be offering advice, wasn't I?
Interpolate up some mediated conjecture.
But the kids can look after themselves just fine, can't they?
So our fiscal policy seems to think;
'I wager we shear up the youth
to buy shares in implementing youth wages.'
sorry, I guess it's an antiquated complaint,
“think of the children!” , they say?
Can't they see,
the whole **** market's aimed at the proto-teens??
we do it all for them the little snots.
laissez faire welfare
hedge or double down?
A shrubbery?
Or a bacon butty with bread as ****** chicken and cheese?
(I just vomited in my mouth a little,
(how pastiche))

See, and people ask why I’m trapped in the past;
the future's got me car sick.
and honestly
we're just brimming with history
(the scourge of post-modernity)
like a black moss spewed on the walls
Poisoning visions and Rheumatic fever
tearing up our lovely
lovely
pacified
pay and display
psuedo
proto
posterity
….....
….................
….......­..................
…............
….....................
…........­....
…..................
…...........
….....
…...
….
..
Aaron LaLux Oct 2017
Mumok Museum

What am I doing in Vienna,
staring at art as the world burns,
in city I never wanted to go to,
doing things that seem rather uninspiring,

where’s the inspiration gone,
why does everything seem so tiring,
it seems we’re on the verge of a collective mental breakdown,
the system’s short circuiting and could do with some rewiring.

Why does every rags to riches story I know,
end in an overpriced designer outfit all alone?

Why is Consumerism followed like a religion,

we don’t worship Jesus we worship Visa,
good credit better than good morals,
we don’t praise Muhammed in a daze with TV Dramas,
no Buddha just computers no real friends just PayPals,

and maybe that’s why we’d rather be blind than see,
maybe that’s why we hide in museums behind sunglasses,
but would you rather have expense tastes than be free,
because when you’re behind any type of four walls you’re trapped,

where in a Federal Pen with Madoff or a Penthouse with Paris in Paris,
either way we’re victims of our own restrictions trying to buy some more time to be,
but we’re running out of credit the banks are collapsing the recession is relapsing,
so why even try to by when we know not so secretly that only Love will truly set us free,

see,

the best things in life still are free,
and yeah liberation is expensive and self renovations are extensive,
but freedom is priceless,
and it seems that the Love Pyramid is the only pyramid that’s not a ponzi scheme,

because we are all equal even if we’re not all treated equally,
that’s why some have no clothes while others wear designer denim jeans,
but these Diesels are too tight on my thighs and this macabre carnival has no prize,
and I can do anything I want with my life but sometimes all I want to do is breather,

breathe,
breathe because this lifestyle is expensive,
but freedom is priceless,
even though they market it and try to price it,

I just,
want to find a place to relax and release,
all of this,
fck their politics,

fck their programs fck their projects,
fck their agendas dressed in artificial splendor,
fck their treating human beings as objects,
fck their consumerism culture of capitalists,

I just,
don’t know what else to say,
I don’t know why I’m at this museum in Vienna,
hiding on the top floor on a Sunday,

on the 5th floor I just want to give more,
just want to gift these words then make my escape,

just want to be alone,
but also want these words to be known,
but where do you go when you’re tired and over it all,
and you just want to rest but don’t have nor ever had a home,

hello,
could you please pick up the phone,
I’m calling because I still love you,
and I want to come back even though I’m already gone,

on the top floor of the Mumok museum in Vienna,
on the 5th floor to be exact,
and yeah it’s true that I don’t know where I’m going,
but what I do know is I don’t think I’m coming back,

online and off track,
writing more words that rhyme,
then any other living writer,
and that is an actual fact,

and yeah that’s a fact,
but I’m going to follow that with a question,
before I forget,
let me just ask what I am doing in Vienna,

what am I doing in Vienna,
staring at art as the world burns,
in city I never wanted to go to,
doing things that seem rather uninspiring,

where’s the inspiration gone,
why does everything seem so tiring,
it seems we’re on the verge of a collective mental breakdown,
the system’s short circuiting and could do with some rewiring.

Why does every rags to riches story I know,
end in an overpriced designer outfit all alone?

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Ian Cairns Aug 2013
What if I told you
I had all the answers.
Would you accommodate my allegations
Or assume my observations are obsolete?
Let's see.
What if I told you
There are approximately five abandoned houses
For every so called vagabond in America.
Let's pretend some simple addition could remedy this situation
And a few sets of steady hands plus a plethora of dry wall
Could dramatically increase the living conditions in these residences
And decrease the number of five year olds
Who consider dreaming on concrete comfortable.
Would you lend a hand?
What if I told you
That minorities make up the vast majority of inmates in America
While corporate crooks who believe distributing the wealth
Means purchasing penthouses in every time zone
From Ponzi Scheme paychecks
Receive bailouts rather than handcuffs.
As if felons in white collars are invisible to proper punishment.
Would you take the stand?
What if I told you
Believing in Buddha and his blessings
Or the New Testament teachings
Is not reason enough to persecute anyone
Based on their personal beliefs.
Because believe it or not
We were all blessed with the ability
To show compassion for others regardless of religious indifference.
Would you make amends?
What if I told you
I had none of the answers.
That my words were merely that- words.
That my call requires actions
And answers mean actually acting on abstractions
That most people keep inside mental concepts.
Would you hear me?
Would you help me?
What if I told you nothing?
Would you listen then?
Michael Marchese Oct 2016
Your soul not worth its weight in gold
Your lust devalues love within
Your pulse is thawing asset slush
Your greed decays my crawling skin

Your pools of excess no one needs
Your reigns of power crash on stock
Your floods of wealth they trickle down
Your drowning debt's my doomsday clock

Your mass consumption starves our dreams
Your trade deals drain our wishing well
Your tax breaks crush our frailest hopes
Your free market's my prison sell

Your loans are predatory sharks
Your health plan is a ponzi scheme
Your advertisements bleed me dry
Your credit card's my guillotine

Your profit's my minimum cage
Your cost of life insures my death
Your wage, my concentration camp
Your price tag's on my final breath
e fields Mar 2019
They are all the Stonehenge slabs waiting
to topple over, granite foundation
of the cosmic cardhouse.
Expressionless: blank stares
Like the ceiling of the sky with
wall-to-wall cloudless gray
Warmed over with a vague upset -
The sun still tries its damnedest
Underneath the folds somewhere

Some of the grim flock re-picturing
bedspreads they snuck under with
lovers passed on long-since
(Stop, dash, as good as dead
Dash, stop, resume again)
They felt trapped,
they motioned Your Honor for bust-out.
New apartments, new partners,
new town centers eventually
seemed all the same and they
were stricken apathetic:
dead end

New installations of municipal plotting
erected in a Cold War mindframe,
Brutalism put to shame.
Rising above an alma mater
Those who stayed pass by,
Itinerants late-stage en-route
To spiritual tent cities to remain.
Rising above the rest of town
Squinting producing the pitched
Concrete walls, the barbed wire vein
Circulating among borders
Teeth of ******* razorblades.

Another life they’d never graduate
Now all that’s left is ponzi schemes,
billiard hellscapes accented with
deep-discount tobacco flames,
greasy spoons caddy-cornering
shuttered gas stations with their
mummified attendants left
moaning with desire from
beneath the boards:
Broken glass glints on felled horizons
of the ever-present post-industrial plains
What a waste slog on what a waste
What a waste slog on what a waste
Your Honor we request another stay
Your Honor we request another stay
Kaley Dec 2016
Moneys just a ponzi Scheme that the government created to control the masses So Don't cry over money because money never crys for you..

Time is more valuable then money
An you can always get more money but not more time,
Because time will take your money but money wont buy time..

You work to make money,
but what do you do with the money?

Money has itself into a slave
So dont let it turn you too..


To be happy is worth more then being rich, so the value of things is worth more then a price,

People work only for money
So if you want loyalty hire a dog..
An If you want the ultimate cash then dont look in your wallets.

The real measure of your wealth
Is how much youd be worth
If you lost all your money?..
Tommy Johnson Jun 2014
Drop in
Just in case you missed it
Lost marbles and missing puzzle pieces
If what? But, What if?

This is my only recourse
A resource of thick accents
And made up minds
That think it's all water under the bridge

The thumping of her heart subsides
Disposable income comes naturally now
She impersonates impostors with crooked teeth and bad posture
But that's just the prelude

She foresees it all
How does it look?
"Sour grapes and low hanging fruit"
"Permanence is a myth"

Case closed
"Belly button lint and earwax"
"Pay your dues"
Outcries about fiscal responsibility

"Fill in the blanks with what you want to hear"
Fraudulent pyramid scams
Pinsetters falling for ponzi schemes
That leave them with a bad tastes in their mouths

"Lets head up to Golgotha
And rip the nails from the Penitent thief's hands
Then stick them in the Impenitent thief's eyes
Just a new number to add to our repertoire"
he found a bundle
of rights intangible
hanging like leaves
in plain sight
without a label or name

so he claimed...

it was perched like a parrot
on a poplar tree
in Central Park
left furtively
after dark
by ranger Henry III
who opened the gates daily

for the likes of...

Joe
of Public renown
who'd lost all he owned
in a Ponzi scheme
trading his golden throne
and sins
for the broken bench

and a bottle of gin...

under the shade of leaves
green like the open court
he prayed
and plotted his return

it wasn't long...

after his fall
from Chase
to the broken bench
that 1000 points of light
descended
shattering the fog over his lens

and with lasik eyes....

he saw the bundle
of rights intangible
hanging like leaves
in plain sight
with a label and name

and he claimed it as his own....

~ P
(#HenrysBundleOfRights)
CautiousRain Nov 2018
I’m not sure how to return to you
All the crippling anxiety you brought
Along with the sorrows deserted to all our doorsteps,
But I’d like to remind you
That the product you supplied
Was not as advertised
And I’d be much obliged to ask for a refund,
If it weren’t too late
To pull out my receipts
And read all your hypocrisies.

Don’t misinterpret me,
But I must admit this is not what I wanted
And I paid to you two years or more
Of my miserable life,
Yet this is all the effort you could muster
To me
And every other person who bought into
What you were selling;
I never took you for a snake oil salesman,
But that’s the price I paid for my naivety,
Isn’t it?

I’m sure you’d like to remind me
That a customer should always do their research,
And I’m oh so sorry
I didn’t feel the need to.
Would you like me to sue you
So that the next time someone buys in
To your sly little Ponzi scheme,
You come with a warning label?
oof
Jemoh Jan 2016
My heart has been dragged out
By the revelations
Why did it have to be by you
I invested all but this is what I got in return
Your love must have been like the Enron shares
As for me it reported negative equity
Was it a Ponzi scheme designed to rob me to pay to Others!
How about little Kittens
I hope it meant something?
But to be robbed of adoration
Just *****!
brandon nagley May 2015
Gifted star children are particular!! Divine and connected from within..

A block to the human mind has distorted unearthly visions!! No mentioning their fears, for their just as us!!!

An oriental Indian musk breezes past cold stone faces, for ourn babies cannot take the places of murderers and greedy shine shoed ******!!!

mothers *****!!!

Primary ordinance is past by men in Prada suits. Yet dress shoes to army boots don't match!!! For where art they hiding as poor men break their own backs!?

Wallowing in caves deep in earth's magnetic core? Trembiling, on ships of unknown ships ashore? Invasion of thy process of the mind that is!

Tis, soo digest and plush! Pounds for the push! Civilized string tied being, thy tomb has been unsealed! Milked bottles are dripping such in a frenzy.

Ponzi schemer, gonzo writer! When shalt thou fly free???
(now a penchant with less Zionist trenchant ululation to vent.)
Not a peep passed thru mine -
aye vaguely attest
what ten? eleven? twelve? age
of following anecdote at best
guest, but no
doubt yours truly
with figurative heart in chest
scared puny meek boy

tight lipped silently confessed
to foiled attempt, sans trying
unsuccessfully to steal a yoyo,
     inviting tummy prepubescent
unbuttoning, a substantially
sprawling Holy skype sizing breast
of mine upon be nabbed,
thus aye didst detest

foolish kid ploy, and
(prematurely nipping
in the bud) messed
up potential life of crime
with first and only
shoplifting heist jest
for getting caught no a pest
key yoyo, mama would

     (IF FOUND OUT)
axe me no quest
chin, but whack me itty bitty
teensy weensy derriere lest
quickly putting to rest
any Robin Hood
fantasy life of
high stakes crime pressed,

and squeezed out the noggin
with apropos punishment addressed
thankfully, neither parent
got wind, nor ever guessed
their beautiful darling
     boy did test
petty theft, never
matured nor didst crest

into a profitable "yoyo
string Ponzi like
     scheme," thus ballsiest
dare devilish and bitterest,
and laughably noble lest
act yours truly ever attempted
immediately ceased to shelve bravest
sleight of hand find

delve during broad est
daylight, I immediately
didst shelve, when clumsiest
initial foray into
the world wide web
tubby come cleverest
lad, this side of
     Lansdale, Pennsylvania

     many damnedest
yesterdays ago, never
took another earnest
tempting gamble since security
detail nearly wrest
head possible zapped feeblest Ames?

to pilfer from other
Department stores if pressed
for money no matter,
I might miss an enforced
hated ballet class,
     with abs salute zest!
release those words into the environment
without consideration
of the situation
of their implications
testing my patience

it was 'nice' to hear my voice for a couple seconds
still sending mixed signals
said it was just as gentle
so sentimental
driving me mental

i think you mean what you say
but it doesn't even matter
can't just bust in after
you left me shattered
pieces too scattered

to even bother picking myself up
had to start fresh
which was really just a mess
youre so ridiculously blessed
you don't know what it's like being second best
Ken Pepiton Apr 2022
Upright, bipedal, con-fi, see, come saw
I saw thee under the mulberry tree,
when the wind stirred
the upper branchings
one who strives with truth in life's wild way,
rests - while watching, waiting for next
if I may, the past-tenseness of guiled, is guilt.
Hold no shame, having to do, and suffering so
painless, once used, patience always workd.
No guile, we waited for the point to go. Dotdotdot
-speak of that daemon and who should appear,
the daysman on duty, Mercutio's nearkin,
- was he one told to come and see?
a stranger in whom is no trick,
a confident man, selling his wares, for worth
to the buyer made ware by chance, lost in thought.

Something seems off when a person
knows with whom he agrees,
but I do not, ah, poorer in knowledge accrual, am I

So I, learn if I am as well agreeable,
does this trek into familiar detail seem allusive,
or useful, universal,
state of un-been-guiled, once too many times.
Bogus Science, and Ponzi Economics,
we climbed the dung hill, and found it comfy, warm.
- some sense from bovine ilk, Rumi-nated
- clover over rye, a pre-ference, cud-wise.
- The after taste, time to think,
- why do we use so many nursing cattle?
- What have we become, now that we can
- drink dead milk.
-back to the quest for a we for today-

Frankfurt determines that ******* is speech intended to persuade without regard for truth. The liar cares about the truth and attempts to hide it; the bullshitter doesn't care if what they say is true or false, but cares only whether the listener is persuaded.[1]

From <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/On_Bullshit>

Where I was reared, nobody tells you
of a tattoo
on their back,
beneath covering clothes.
- but now, the layer of cool, coming on
- after all psy-sci-psi sense converged
Some folks do, for some unspoken reason,
- see, I wish you could see raw me, the art.
- forcing me to keep this skin.
- Possesion first, first right to claim, I know.
- BTDT- an imp experiencing samsara for me.
now, where were we, like like likest…
A person is presenting purpose,
proposing we have lost our links
to recovered tattoos - meaning hidden
not on your face, intending to make you see
Salience, a leaping roe, perhaps, saying see me,
perhaps saying I can leap the hedge row,
or it seems
so so salient, as if coming to attention,
tuned to the whole, boom
- lackachuma-fuma
salience the word is said again, by the fellow
with the deeply meaningful ta-toos
- a silly syllable enabling- bling
to which my attention attracts, salience
catches my at- tension, hooks me,
pulls me in, gnosis whispers know me,
deceive your grip,
accept my hand co-mand-astory manual labor,
I snap my fingers, we
receive my salient happenstance

fool me once, sell me an invisible tattoo,

a tool used to mean something,
meaning- full fashion affectations,
- as when a law is fulfilled -
put it there, where ladies show their spots.

Imagine we know it means something
distracting to the winds in- twisting my senses
sh, shush
shushing soothing, as might a 4-H kid,
nurse a stolen calf, and learn the price of knowing.
Live and learn, grands in a country school.
James M Vines Jun 2017
Just a few cents is all they say it takes. Then you can save a life in a far away land. Combined with the efforts of others you can feed a child. What does it really mean and why has it taken so long. For decades we have been feeding the poor, yet they continue to come, more and more. Where does the money really go, has anyone ever truly ask? Is it some kind joke or a Ponzi scheme that never ends. Why can't we just give the money directly to those we would like to help, then we could truly see what a dollar a day means to someone else.
jeffrey conyers Feb 2017
Wealth, scares many.
Especially when you're the one they expect not to have it.
Ask, a successful black male?
Ask, a successful Latino male?

Notice, how law officers quiz you more?
While some get by with less of a challenge.
But masters of the Ponzi schemes.

Then many are willing participants in this get rich scam.
Only upon the news when they get taken to the bank.
Yo let's go space agin' eat chicken Cajun
My girls says I'm amazing blunts blazin'
Over grams to pounds whats that sound?
Flashlight knock out clowns
Its Htown
Holding crown or better yet a dynasty
Feel me? Naw I'm too hot to touch
Once the toasters bust turn flesh into crust
No hate in my game know the name
Same ol same taste of rhyme *******
Divine and sane makes me insane
Off the top of the brain most claim
They got the industry on lock but not
The way I see it most ain't livin' it
Fantasy dreaming triple beamin'
My visions paralyze treasons
Giving reasons why we here earth wind and fire
Combination of desire maxe for higher
Learning from the Thais burning page turning
Back to the days of hip hop in a top drop
My vogues sittin' on pokers and it don't stop
Third coast stay getting props **** slops
We loosened ya knots so all profits
Come to us Ponzi scheme style wild
Stay close to my Ruger cuz hataz more foul
Than Kyle it's southpark we putting sparks
Burnt out ya eyesight from the flash of a bright
Gun ejection no recollection I black out
See what my killaz about southside soldiers
Rollin' through like bolder my thoughts colder
Than an depth of an abyss givin' a kiss
To the skyline a graphic design
Raise the vibrations of my spine
AiYo it's time to grind glow from the sunshine

Once I learned the ways of the goetias
Its takes ya to higher domains and plains
And to places ya never been through strategize my Sun Tzu
Art of war principles dialect ya pupils
I was made to rule ten tactics i follow
Pride I swallow while y'all borrow
From acted movie scripts not a blood or Crip
But I stay affiliated far from calibrated
I'm off the scales so I won't see bail
But Ill see Baal I'm trapped inside a jail
Of hells cartel see most ain't living well
And you can tell from the aroma that smells
Foul living brailles the sinning
And happiness within im still givin'
The best that I've got til my flesh rot
I'll still be on the verge of a plot
Who wanna take a shot? At me
Only to reenergize my energy
It's the return of the voodoo child
As I pile up lyrics for the crate
Of records for my vocals chords
To explore giving ya brain a taste
Of soul food soothing ya mood
I'm mellow as Parker ****** flow
Just so ya know I'll rock it slow
So Carefully listen yo I ain't dissing
Reminiscin' to what's really missin'
In the game **** shame old school reign
Supreme I stop chasing diamond rings
I rather have a bezel mind shinin' through time
Wonka maze these days my rhymes to mic protege so begins the stages I  slay
Now scores of years
after botched minor theft penchant
courtesy security guard
analogous to inquisitorial trenchant
unforgettable verbal lashing
(suppressing me ululation to vent)
unwittingly arresting snitch behavior
plus potential life of crime.

Not a peep passed thru
pursed lip o' mine -
aye vaguely attest
what age ten? eleven? twelve?
of following anecdote at best
educated guess, but no
doubt yours truly
with figurative heart in chest
scared sh__less puny meek boy
tight lipped silently confessed

to foiled attempt, sans trying
unsuccessfully to steal a yoyo,
during Saturday's short break
between gymnastic class
inviting tummy prepubescent
diminutive self unbuttoning
outer garment to stash loot,
revealing substantially sprawling
holy skype size bare breast,
after officer verbally rifled me

said mean security detail
demanding I undress
impossible mission to escape
upon being nabbed,
held me arms tight,
cuz yours truly
ain't no Artful Dodger  
thus aye didst detest
foolish kid ploy, and
(prematurely nipping

in the bud) messed
up potential life of crime
with first and only
shoplifting heist jest
for getting caught no a pest
key yoyo, mama would
(IF ever mama or papa FOUND OUT)
they would axe me no quest
chin, but whack me itty bitty
teensy weensy derriere lest

quickly putting to rest
any Robin Hood
fantasy life of riding crest
to get rich quick scheme
high stakes crime pressed,
and squeezed out the noggin
with apropos punishment addressed
thankfully, neither parent
got wind, nor ever guessed
their beautiful darling

little boy did flunk
electric kool aid acid test
petty theft, never
matured nor ever again did zest
proliferate to ****** unpaid for goods
into a profitable "yoyo
string Ponzi like
scheme," thus ballsiest
dare devilish and bitterest,
and laughably noblest

act yours truly ever attempted
immediately ceased to shelve bravest
sleight of hand find
delve during broadest
daylight, I immediately
didst abandon, when clumsiest
initial foray into
the world wide web
tubby come cleverest
lad, this side of

Lansdale, Pennsylvania
many damnedest
yesterdays ago, never
took another earnest
tempting gamble since security
detail nearly wrest
head possible zapped feeblest Ames?
to pilfer from other
Department stores if pressed
for money no matter,
I might miss an enforced
hated ballet class,
with abs salute zest
worse fate than juvenile detention!
Why is it everytime a black man gives up the real
Concious lookin' out to get you killed but still ?
I stand on my throne all alone
In the battlezone holding my chrome
So let's get it on im signing Armageddon
Why these muthafukkaz keep on lettin'
All this corny **** ride for hip hop nothing but slop
As i climb my way back to the top to drop
These lames dressing like dames that claim
They got the game on lock
But the only thing they got locked
is their jaws on the labels *****
**** that I spray **** on the walls of the stalls
My pen skills sicker than John Wick take a pick
White America you ain't **** without the black folks pit
See how much money they profit hard to drop it
The topic i see the madness within my sharp optics
Eagle view only a few view what I view
A black dead mans soul trails can be smelled
From the culture vultures that sail
All around to find the perfect sound
Only to water down the souls that pound
Deep into the heart of the ghetto never let go
Though the heart moniters thin take sips of dry gin
Tryin' to stop the sins but they label me a hater once again
Seems like black artist can never win?
When Elvis impersonated all types of black gospel artist then when
Chuck Berry was doing it all in
The forties now they wanna change the story
White washing music you can tell by the bland acoustic
No feeling you can't teach it or preach it
It's gotta be felt from within I'm still living
Proof that anything we invent they hate to admit
Steal out **** and try to circumvent
Issues here's a tissue I'm here to **** you
Off cuz we know you deep down you soft
Come try and test me I got the whole hood with me
So if you thinking you walking away free
Better plea like Bronson did to Ghostface
Beat the case cuz we keep the courts laced
In Ponzi money schemes living out the dream
I'm reality shattering the false imagery
So go ahead and get mad at me I know we
Aint gone see eye to eye so go cry
And add ya tears to thr river so i can deliver
More spells from Godspells where Satan dwells
My melanin never fails catching the frails
Slippin' mute all the wannabes listening
Check the clocks that tickin' see the white chickens
Picking and looking for black ***** to take in
To keep up their stock what a sick world
We livin' in im tryna "get out" but they love me too much cuz of our earthly clouts
Potential life of as juvenile delinquent
(ala bam mean future streetwise ****)
stopped dead in the tracks – manacles
the above two lines hopefully gives hint
nearly changing changing life of one boy
an undersized puny kid
whose aborted theft stint
constitutes the gist of following poem.

Now scores of years
after botched minor theft penchant
courtesy security guard
analogous to inquisitorial trenchant
unforgettable verbal lashing
(suppressing me ululation to vent)
unwittingly arresting snitch behavior
plus potential life
of crime and punishment.

Not a peep passed thru
pursed lip o' mine -
aye vaguely attest
what age ten? eleven? twelve?
of following anecdote at best
educated guess, but no
doubt yours truly
with figurative heart in chest
scared sh__less puny meek boy
tight lipped silently confessed

to foiled attempt, sans trying
unsuccessfully to steal a yoyo,
during Saturday's short break
between gymnastic class
at Lansdale YMCA
(long since razed)
inviting tummy prepubescent
diminutive self unbuttoning
outer garment to stash loot,
revealing substantially sprawling

holy skype size bare breast,
after officer verbally rifled me
said mean security detail
demanding I undress
impossible mission to escape
upon being nabbed,
held me arms tight,
cuz yours truly
ain't no Artful Dodger  
thus aye didst detest

foolish kid ploy, and
(prematurely nipping
in the bud) messed
up potential life of crime
with first and only
shoplifting heist jest
for getting caught no a pest
key yoyo, mama would
(IF ever mama
or papa FOUND OUT)

they would axe me no quest
chin, but whack me itty bitty
teensy weensy derriere lest
quickly putting to rest
any Robin Hood
fantasy life of riding crest
to get rich quick scheme
high stakes crime pressed,
and squeezed out the noggin
with apropos punishment addressed

thankfully, neither parent
got wind, nor ever guessed
their beautiful darling
little boy did flunk
electric kool aid acid test
petty theft, never
matured nor ever again did zest
proliferate to ****** unpaid for goods
into a profitable "yoyo
string Ponzi like

scheme," thus ballsiest
dare devilish and bitterest,
and laughably noblest
act yours truly ever attempted
immediately ceased to shelve bravest
sleight of hand find
delve during broad
daylight, I immediately
didst abandon, when clumsiest
initial foray into

the world wide web
tubby come cleverest
lad, as iterated above this side of
Lansdale, Pennsylvania
many damnedest
yesterdays ago, never
took another earnest
tempting gamble since security
detail nearly wrest
head possible zapped feeblest Ames?

grilled, interrogated, lambasted me
immediately squelched
further misdemeanors
to pilfer from other
Department stores if pressed
for money no matter,
I might miss an enforced
hated ballet class,
with abs salute zest
worse fate than juvenile detention!

A long overdue belated thank you
to the intimidating man in blue
keeping yours truly on path
lawfully being straight and true.
Born as a desert bird black hearse sheppard
Far from the Lord most largely ignored
Went back to the drawing boards for my vocal chords light up ya spinal chords
A rappin' Moor sickamore flow blows like satchmo
Off of the roof tops tops drops cashed stocks
No bail bonds once im locked on
These bars crash a galaxy stars Mars
To earth see my girth and my true worth
Infinite word to the dark senate independent
Fools hate to see me spin it winded
Out my opponents exposed to an exponent
Who want it taunt it my guns blazin' horrors to the top of the auroras
Flashback relapse ya life collapse
Perhaps you need to take precaution
I cause exhaustion when I breath in oxygen
Injectin' cold carcinogen sippin' gins
Golden boy dojo this ain't taebo **
Let me show you how to flip this dough
P cooked this beat so now it's time to eat
Greet melanin's activated from the obsolete
Black mind's that didn't get to speak
Flowin' up **** creek watchin' for the Meeks
Inherit the earth four corners spread
Imagine all the thorough heads shed-ding
Bloodshed black Genghis these fools singers
Become mock birds once we measure the stingers


Welcome to danger!!!!! Twilight!!





Boomeranging Halle berries yo its kind of scary
Everyday i pace back and forth close to the cemetery
That's my true friend ultimate perdition
I'm tryna find something to believe in lies within
Self learn wisdom yo that's real wealth
Guarded by the spiritual stealths left welts
On the back of my black dot check my plots
Slave descendant rocking drums crescent
Shining once i supper the moons elegance
My presence alone even make demons tense
Silver rings left by the side of my left cheeks
Washing the silent tears that try to speak
They don't want no beef with the Indian chief
Smokin' irons like pipe pieces feces increases
Now you drippin' soon to be sky trippin' rippin'
Through the ozone cosmos daydreams
Found my team once I learn to scheme cycling
Ponzi cool az The Fonzi grandson to Bumpy
Johnson watch the clouts gain pain strains
Even the biggest giants David to Galliaths
See how serious war paths can get you hit
Dont let your emotions send you a free trip
Check the African tip spears thrown out the atmosphere
Split the hemisphere
Parted the windy ways that sways cardinal obeys
Its the order of nature
Says met up with the mystic gryphon liftin'
Gave me an invisible crown whisperin'
How to operate my enemies drag em to their knees
Holdin' a sword over their vocal chords
Ack-nowledge the brother with over a thousand Lords



Welcome to danger!!! twilight!
Third Eye Candy Dec 2019
a lump of coal on the tongue, like a rogue dark star on the tip of an unlit epiphany.
love has its Fools and all the carousels. but nothing can rehearse a reprisal… if the dream
has neither fear of it or notion… all the implausible directions are just ‘round the way…
pole vaulting over stone slogans in the trenches
where wars are Love.
quite naturally.

sometimes you have to breathe
without meaning
too.

it’s all
a part of the plan
how marbles sharpen
their bandoliers of refraction.
In Thrall of an
Angry Sleep.
and a novocaine Ponzi
Scheme,

to mean Nothing
to.
Classy J Nov 2023
Quick stepping, hold the breath in.
Nesquick bunny am I hoping or hopping?
Amongst these land mines that means certain death.
Just one wrong step, what do I have left?

Positive Change is trauma unlearning,
Gotta be the role model I was always yearning.
Cause I know what it’s like when my canoe was sinking.
Vicarious victim drinking with sharks,
Was never the best at swimming.
Or confronting my problems,
For awhile I was sitting.
For awhile I was drowning.
At the back of the bus with the rest of the goblins.
Until I stood my ground like Rosa Parks,
Straight spitting.
Speaking truth even if I’m portrayed as the **** villain!
After all, I’m used to it cause I’m a **** ***** Indian!
A savage in need of sterilization.
Today we just call it cancelation.
Cause snowflakes both left and right can’t handle a native with education.
No wonder we are so underfunded cause they don’t want restoration.
They don’t want truth nor reconciliation.
They want us to keep us starved so we rely on their salvation.
Ooh ****! Better start…

Quick stepping, hold the breath in.
Nesquick bunny am I hoping or hopping?
Amongst these land mines that means certain death.
Just one wrong step, what do I have left?

Feels like I’m trying to swim upstream,
When for the longest time residential schools,
Were treated as ponzi schemes.
Or as justifiable things.
And I can’t lie that growing up that **** did sting!
Was silenced and punished by the authorities.
And I ain’t just talking police,
I’m talking anyone that held power over folks like me.
Hell I Can’t even go shopping without being assaulted and asked for my receipt!
Cause after all I’m the thief, a snotty nose Rez kid that needs to go back to his tepee!
Where health and safety is decreased,
But yawl don’t care or share mercy.
To us Street beasts.
You know what? **** these land mines,
I don’t care if ya triggered!
Better prepare yourself to be decolonized,
By your friendly neighbour hood prairie…
jeffrey conyers Aug 2018
Strange, how folks dealing in *****?
Are good people?
Hustling in the drug trade to survive.
What many call quick money, quick death?

In truth, he/she might not be a bad soul.
For many legit folks, we think to exist in society.
Operate in quick money schemes.

But quick to die once their Ponzi scheme is caught.
They rank high in suicide.

Quick money, quick death.
Watch what you do?
Maybe this tagline properly fits you.
For preservation, salvation,
and veneration, though with hold
ding temptation two mike
pence sieve lee clear,
to immoral majority mold
toot hoods, (those bajillion
Americans unanimously polled)
did want me to broadcast, communicate,

and declare, sans mock cut up fold
drawl migrant accent,
(no matter I'm getting old),
nonetheless Ivana trumpet from Taj Mahal
straight to Mar-A-Lago) all told,
plus thank commensurate Republicans
(past or present), who extolled,
an invisible grandiose fire walled

barricade (donning, enclosing,
and fortifying) against Carl mauled
din lookalike hackers,
despite one sporting "FAKE"
hook nosed, hunchbacked
donned with torn (Turin) shawled,
shrouded, and disguised vagrant, indigent,
double chinned agent – bald

(except for being bewigged),
viz flowing locks of "FAKE" gold
in toe with Amazon heavily funded
unbridled trailing retinue
chanting appellation Matthew
Scott Harris alias Oswald),
no matter said faux
renegade twittering lobbyists

flock (like lemmings) within his fold,
and will happily, laughably parody
any vigilantes spot on cold,
what with his bugs
bunny eyed (What's up Doc)
intent reader rabbit stare,
that doth playfully scold
any Bare Ladies *******

linkedin, NOT nsync
with netiquette politesse mold
dinned communication, (asper
my pork chopped message
higglety pigglety divulged)
obeying tacit gold
din rule to hoodwink public, nonetheless
lemme exemplify, how

Democrats plan to hold
world web hostage
by secret Ransomware sold,
thru dark web bitcoin blockchain trolled
to collude with "crooked Hillary"
under Ponzi scheme auspices doled

courtesy, sans spongebobsquarepants
omnipotent NON GMO
gluten CRISPR rolled
oat sized INTEL nanobots,
no bigger than mold
spores heavily scrutinizing,
policing, monitoring and
fortifying electronic Internet scaffold.
Poetic license I employ
to match inventive
wisdom and witticism
regarding (brother in law of mine
husband of eldest sister of same)
interspersing, initiating, incorporating
fabrication whenever possible,
and only the subject himself
can discern fact from fiction
and get a chuckle.

Re: noun polymath
and longtime resident
of Woodbury, New Jersey
story of his life
constitutes real cinéma vérité
depicting veteran jack of all trades,
and adept Morris dancer to boot,
whereby ankles donned with bells
while whistles fell from the house of usher
crowded house Aesop Poe's  

his rubbery shapely legs
bending vaguely resembling an oxbow
amazingly gracefully they meander,
when sharing an anecdote
then listener amply electrified
attired courtesy with rapt attention
donning brooks brothers
complimentary wardrobe
courtesy Durand thrift store,
and/or popular Goodwill

(though prices noticeably
steeper at the latter),
where he donates
and buys tools, tchotchkes,
gizmos, gadgets, clothes, and books
tests intricacy, viability of instruments,
lounges, couches and countenances
against being Lazy Boy,
nevertheless irresistibly shifting into supineness
around cozy davenports,

and to ease sofa ring takes doze
on comfortable recliner,
while engrossed reading
suddenly striking sitting inquisitive posture
(pedic) as revolutionary
humanoid lifelike mannequin
free advertising to expose
how Chat Generative
Pre-trained Transformer

(a large language model-based chatbot
developed by OpenAI
and launched on November 30, 2022,
which enables users to refine
and steer a conversation towards
a desired length, format, style,
level of detail, and language -
oh... and for your information
Monty the Python wrote these words)
suddenly artificial intelligence frozen

out and rendered obsolete
**** sapiens thinking prowess
as well as relevance of human species
grows undermined, overshadowed, enslaved,
et cetera, where twenty first
sentient beings of civilization
reduced to beasts of burden
scattered to all four winds
analogous to rolling stones
simians scraping the earth

using fingers as hoes
eventually survival of the fittest
evolution did impose
steely phalanges (the bones
that make up the toes
of the hand and the fingers
of the foot - ha) on common joe's
biden their time scaling Kilimanjaro's
three volcanic cones:
Kibo, Mawenzi, and Shira

keenly synchronized
trained scientific seismographs
linkedin with their sensory perceptions
helped maintain honed vigilance
former killer foo fighting goo goo dolls
rendered physiques tight as longbows
(actually stunt doubles
weathering bubbling lava mudflows)
amazing special effects witnessed
each spectacular rivaling, towering inferno

metamorphosing into jolly green
(rather orange) giant blob with green thumb
clowning around with FAKE bulbous nose,
indiscriminately spewing forth
liquid bedrock that quickly overthrows
entire bygone webbed wide world
swallowing prized archaeologically
ancient Egyptian and classic Roman civilizations,
where Nero played a mean fiddle
liquidating treasured chests of pharaohs

heaving, melting, repurposing sphinx
in accordance with pyramid scheme
Ponzi scam would long since crumble
and degenerate like house of cards
attesting to fraudulent
***** deeds done dirt cheap
composition and never hold a match against
pure clean fracturing conchoidal quartzose,
one divine comedy troupe rose
above the global liquefaction

affected climate change,
whereat the sheltering sky
offered no escape nor protection
against preternatural edge of night
as dark shadows
encapsulated outer limits
of the twilight zone
quickly extinguishing existence
of **** sapiens planet earth reconstituted
and seeds of life and white lily
omnipotent creator did transpose.

Act chilly
and bass sic hilly
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
completing number seventy five
orbitz, and after ye dip and dive
for another quarter century
(of course still attending
Cherry Hill Unitarian Church)
ye will be fêted oldest member
and maybe the oldest one alive.

— The End —