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Chris Neilson May 2016
In '87 there was a band on at the Witchwood
called the ****** Surgeons
head surgeon was wearing a surgeon's gown
wearing a surgeon's mask
wearing a surgeon's hair-net
delirium in the audience
the band played thrashing guitars
in front of a psychotic drummer
behind the masked, hair-netted front surgeon
2 songs in, off came the hair-net
3 songs in, off came the mask
4 songs in, off came the gown
a bare chested surgeon
now wearing civilian half nakedness
a huge sofa cushion appeared in the audience
from out of nowhere into my face
my beloved tinted specs flew into the moshing mob
the chaos relented for a moment
I searched the floor for my pride and joy
finding them in multiple smashed, crushed pieces
I could not see the band
I could hardly see my hand
in front of my be-cushioned face
I left the show early
as everything was blurry
how was I to know?
how a ****** Surgeons show would go?
maybe the name was a giveaway.
after a sofa cushion ruined my day.
It's all true.
harlee kae Jun 2014
i cant decide if i'd rather **** myself
or her
Bre Marie Aug 2016
You may see colors and a world that is free. When I open my eyes everyone is expecting good things from me. I struggle to breath in this cage without a window or door. Black and white, white and black-I feel as if to be under attack. Do I wait for one more year to pass or attack back? I want to be me but then all of a sudden there's something wrong with me? I seem so sad, I look so depressed. I'm okay, I'm not under any stress! Laughing in the back of my head because being me rather than the person I set up in their heads make them all think I've lost my sanity instead!

NoT yet hAVe i GonE mAD!

I have not ripped my memory's to shreds! I don't need more meds. Am I really seeing all these things or is it just in my head? Attack! Attack! Knock down the cage walls white and black! Black and white! Depressed in stress I wear a bullet proof vest; they strap me tight in the jacket without care, lock me up and watch me disappear.
Umi Mar 2018
Standing on the edge to a sea of pure lunacy this lily blooms,
Her scars, she wishes them not to fade but to shed more blood,
Corrupted by the world around her, which took what she held dear, The only wish to seek revenge she blooms while sympathising with fury and hatred thicker than the spreading of the darkness of night,
A murderous intent, likely energetic enough to break through the ground to get what her desires tell her she needs so dearly,
Getting rid of everything, the love within her hurting chest, so she'd eventually awaken as this distorted image of what was once pure,
Her enemies shall try to escape while observing their dying moments,
Laughing at them whilst watching how they are ruined in seconds,
Throbbing in the dark, the figure of hatred wriggles in moonlight,
Lonely the soul resented by life, keeps up her riot for once more,
In bloodlust and vengence for her own reflection cast on the water,
Deep within her, a crying, broken, yet flickering light calls for help,
If forgiveness could be served, her wounds would heal and she would be able to be herself again, free without any grief or sorrow,
Maybe then, she will even be able to feel love again.


~ Umi
Jaxey Oct 2018
The only difference between sound and silence
Is that one is real and one is in your head
I always have a hard time figuring out which one is which
Are you a ******?
Jayantee Khare Aug 2018
***

hold me not
touch me not
maybe I'm clumsy-clumsy-clumsy!

have headache
want chocolate shake
maybe I'm lazy-lazy-lazy!

feel me not
mind me not
I'm cranky-cranky-cranky!

the mood is swinging
find me clinging
I'm touchy-touchy-touchy!

may be crazy
sometimes hazy
I'm moody-moody-moody!

stay away
go your way
I'm feelo-feelo-feelo!

just be there
patient listener
I'm despo-despo-despo!

here i contradict
have conflict
I'm ******-******-******!

changing hormones
troubling estrogens
tell me not a fatso-fatso-fatso!

maybe I'll be ok again!
maybe you'll love me then!


Maybe few females relate....resonate....rate .....
A big thnx to all readers and those who appreciated, thnx hp, thnx Elliott
Ed C May 8
It's a strange thing to look inside yourself
and see darkness, black oil bubbling
with animal feathers floating,
drowning  in the thick.
I feel like a well, with nothing but depth
with no one to pull me out, no rope
to even hang myself with.
When you sit in the darkness
with wings too sticky to fly out
you see faces and reflections
that take your mind and stretch it
into unrecognizable shapes.
I am stuck in the oil
of my compressed stress.
I have been having incredibly dark thoughts
i am just a ****** am a living hell
what my brain does next i can never tell
i like to swear and curse my language really bad
a daughter that my parents wish they never had..
  
i dont like my family and they dont like me
so a physco child i will always be
i just lose my temper i have no control
i am just a physco with the devils soul.

dont like going to school i always stay away
roaming round the town trouble everyday
i get rather violent when ever im told no
into my physco world i begin to go

thats the way i am and i will always be
i am just phyco with devils soul in me.
The bullets hit their bones
Agony in their screaming
Crying children shrieking
And three crows peck, peck, peck

Sirens blare in the morning
Dead bodies litter busy street
Their blood stains dispersed
And three crows pick at easy meat

The small girl lit her cigarette
And cleaned her machine gun
The little ****** had some fun
And the three crows pecked, pecked, peck
Dlusionl13 Mar 2018
You are saying I am cruel
I bet you don't even care
Yes I am rude and also somewhat mean
Because I am a thunderous sea trying to calm the hurricane of your betrayal going inside me
You think I won't know
You are the one spreading the rumours
Thank you for sharing with the world your opinion of me

I was not like this before
It's you who ridiculed me
Making my already hard life a miserable mess
It's you who forced my mind
To shut the windows of my heart on everyone's face
I lost happiness as joy left me alone
In mending the broken hearts I was late
In joining the shattered pieces of friendships I failed
I want to thank you sincerely for making my life a living hell

You ignored me, isolated me
Burning my already suffered soul like an ignited coal
I could do nothing as hope left me
Turning me into a dark black hole
You knew what I was going through
Yet you left me saying you were tired of my demons
Thank you I never knew promises were meant just for a show

But how can you call me a ****** now
Telling everyone I am not good
Telling me I am isolated for a reason
Who made this worse
Think you should
I regret ever talking to you
I don't know why I shared my deepest darkest secrets only with you
Thank you for making me sorry for trusting you

You had promised you would help me
You said it was okay that I was okay
What happened then?
Why did you abandon me?
You took everyone that were close to me
Spread all the lies you want
No one is left anyway
But thank you for making me realise
That the battles I fight make me stronger than coward people like you

A loner an outcast
My life's never-ending cycle
It's my story my secret
I am the soul of a lonely dead girl
Betrayal hurts because it's something we never expect from the one we trust the most
Christian Ek Sep 2014
Skeleton bones in the closet, no, not I, I got live bodies locked in chains. In the spirit of Halloween, I'll wear a hockey mask and be that obsessed killer. Teenage kicks, listen close for the screams. ****** from neglect, ****** because of reject, ****** brought on by me always feeling depressed. You called me names, you tortured my spirit, you ****** me like the idols you worship. I've worsen since i started feeding on your hate. This is my manifesto. Are you scared? You should be. Because I won't take the ranting rambling bigotry you speak. This will be something straight out of a horror scene. The plot thickens, foreshadow what's next. If you think this story is fiction well it's not because we live in a cold world and I'm only giving you a description, a depiction of what words can do, I use mine for assistance, I learned to listen, I hope you do too, because you can create a monster with the powerful words you decide to use.
Dan Filcek Apr 2015
consciousness conceived as complex matrices
patterns contained within patterns.
magnetic anomaly brainwave synchronization
unrecognized vortex activity locations.
correlation amplification phenomena resonance.
measurable parameter brain wave activity
highly sensitive field fluctuations.
transducer low frequency geomagnetic pulsations
electromagnetic patterns: their associated chemical changes.
Weak intensity complex magnetic fields
generated earth hum technology affect
flux-gate sample collapsing fields
amplifier filter stages couples into analog digital converter.
experiments correlating local geophysical anomalies
earth's magnetic field changes consciousness.
single electromagnetic coupling mechanism
including spin-mediated neurons.
upsurge solar activity alters brain rhythms, hormonal levels
healing nature mystic experiences
anomalous cognition ******-physical phenomena.
internal model reality - subjective consciousness
addition computational capacity
existential status may need exotic physics
quantum entanglement and new forms of physical interaction
magnetic sensory cells induced meditative states
direct correlation shifts magnetic flux.
No active effort required.
Magnetic mineral aligned crystal chains
embedded biological membranes.
atomic sublattices of ferrimagnetic material
plausible theoretical mechanisms
mechanosensitive membrane ion gates
specific synergetic properties for transduction.
cuboctahedral morphology properties
jitterbugging vector equilibrium matrix basis tensegrity.
basic geometrical biological building blocks.
mystical red rock temples
Tracing disjunctive dislocations
Mother Earth speaks
Questions remain.
This year for Poetry Month, I decided to post a "found poem" every day. If writing a poem is like painting, a "found poem" is like sculpting. source - https://jcer.com/index.php/jcj/article/viewFile/318/343 - The Sedona Effect
Srijani Sarkar Jul 2018
I am having writer's block
and experiencing all this anger
and hunger and love and regret,
I feel like I just don't have a bowl
for all these incredible feelings.
I just don't have enough respect for words anymore.
I want to make a cake out of this psychedelia
and I don't even have a sweet tooth.
Where do I put all of it?
Not how.... where?
I feel like drinking water without pills is vain.
Air left in my stomach
makes my mind a ****** stalker
who'll chase you down the road
suddenly have convulsions and die in front of you
and make you call the police for a whole new different reason.
Writer's block is ghost town
and I am still human without a soul.
How to die beautifully?
Perhaps when the sun shines the brightest in the dusk
burning everyone more than ever.
Tammy M Darby Aug 2013
Off I go
To the ****** ward
For the chasing of elusive words
I round them up and write them down
A poet demanding to be heard


Using only a word at a time
I will never have enough
So here I sit in the silly ward
A word chaser
A nut

The more words I write
The more I want
It has become an insatiable greed
Words I must have them all
Not a wanting
An uncontrollable need

My crime is that I am a word chaser
Many cannot understand
So this is my explanation
As I scrawl with pen in hand

Yes I am a pursuer of words
And all the letters I find
Line them up
Assigning their places
I paint them with metaphor and rhyme

A word chaser yes
Without reservation these faults I confess
Though my hands are no longer tied
The door is forever shut
So in the ****** ward I will remain
A word chaser'
A nut

All right Reserved. Tammy M. Darby.
All Material Stored in Author Base
Andrew Sep 2017
The loneliness I'm keeping
But my sanity is leaking
When my past is speaking
Of the mistakes I'm reaping
I walk an uneasy line
Between shame and pride
But I travel in the wrong direction
And feel I have lost my connection
To myself
To my wealth
Of knowledge I have gained
For now it is stained
Because of my shame
Others see my game
Because I have lied
For the sake of pride
And they start playing
By happily filleting
My dignity
Into infinity
Pieces and desires
Until my mind retires

So I travel from the horrific
To the terrific
Near the Pacific
To be specific
A place
Where people don't wear a scarlet letter
For being as light as a feather
Where there are psychologists
Who understand my ****** logic
Who help me with my vice versus
And the sulfur beneath my surface

Now I'm back in the crowd
I cut through the shroud
And make there here
Through love and tears
I become a spokesman
And speak for myself
Carter Ginter Apr 2013
Worst mood ever and I can't write.
I wake up into this weight on my chest
And thinking of everything I've done that I regret
Wishing I'd just be dead
I'm weird, crazy, illogical, ******
Why does everything always go the same?
It's just like my shot putting
I know what I'm SUPPOSED to do
But for some reason I just can't.
I'm sick of how I am
I really am
And I can't sleep when I'm sick with regret.
I don't understand myself
And why I can't just be normal
Have normal friends
Do normal things.
Instead I'm socially awkward
An angry individual.
And I just wish it was over.
I don't know why.
I know what I have is good
So why am I complaining?
People make me angry
I think I just need to remember that no one is perfect
Nothing works the way it 'should'
Little things set me off
Nothing calms me down but time
Occasionally.
Sometimes time just gives everything a chance to boil
Boil over until I snap
Until I lose it
I'm seriously sick of people
I used to be able to at least hold a conversation
Now I can even do that much
I can't even write right.
This is sort of just a free write journal thing. I've been in a terrible mood for the past week or so and I woke up even worse today. I would never do anything stupid that would harm myself but nothing in this write is a lie. It's my thoughts straight from my head to the page. Sorry it's just a pointless, probably selfish rant. But when I can't write well it's the one way to still get my emotions out if my head.
Dum dum dum
The dreaded sound of drum comes.

My corpse is painted, full coverage of red
How can a body be alive while the soul is dead?
Words,  words are knives that aims to ****

Killing is no fun without suffering
Pleasure grows when pain last longer
Break the victim slowly
Just one at a time and don't forget to help them up
Bring them hope and see them stand up to their knees
Now, time to throw more knives until they fall
Let the crumbling hope be their last straw

Do you feel more pleasure?
Watching the hope crumbles as life disappear

In martyrdom I suffer
Yes, such idiocracy still exist
While my identity is gone
no more hope for this unknown entity
But in the same fate, you should not fall.

Dum dum dum
The dreaded sound of drum is gone.
I'd like to remind everyone that verbal abuse is real and it affects a person's mental health. Let us fight it.
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