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"psychopaths" poems
The head fuckery of societies rules. The indoctrination in our schools has led to the homeless on our streets while politicians count their seats. The privileged few, too rich to mention fail to reveal their true intention. The NHS setup to break by psychopaths all on the take. Big business stripped of all its gold, no pension funds left for the old. Big pharma, they don't miss a trick, they're making you & I feel sick. They push the pills that ring the tills even though they know it kills. With the best advice and greatest will our kids are on **** & fentanyl. While we're divided black & white, we'd never stand up to their might So take your neighbour, hold their hand and together we'll reclaim our land. Poetry by Kaydee.
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Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 11:36 PM UTC
Divided, Not Yet Conquered.
Whatever you do, keep smiling. Be nice to everyone and stand up for your rights. There are many paths to the top of the mountain but few of them are on the map. Keep running, never give up, and watch out for the seriously weird. Avoid psychopaths, if you can recognize them, be polite to witches and warlocks, eschew cannibals, beware of the hippopotamus in heat, don’t drink the second bottle when dancing the Funky Chicken, and only massage someone without pimples or hairy legs. Never give up and keep smiling. It's a hard life, it's a beautiful world, life's a ***** it's great to be alive, life is nasty, brutish and short, don’t give up and keep smiling. Everyone is a guru but ignorance is everywhere, and don't mix hallucinogens with depressants. If someone tells you that they're honest, treat them with the greatest suspicion. Live to the limits, we're only alive once, and that's just as well, because imagine if people you didn't like were immortal. Keep smiling, never give up, always hawk to windward, and never leave your underpants or ******* behind. Everyone's equal but only the strong survive, especially when they take from the weak because what you seize is what you get. The meek shall inherit the earth, but the earth that they inherit will be of poor quality with no mineral deposits. Party lots, work hard, never give up, and keep smiling. Don't work so hard you don't enjoy yourself, remember that the bird is on the wing, then it falls off its perch and becomes a miserable pile of feathers and feet. The fast lane is the best lane but it's very smooth and slippery and there are no road rules. Watch out for lawyers. Seriously. They put the devil in the details while their hand is in your wallet. Everything comes to you if only you can wait, but this takes too long. Clean your teeth, obey authority, except for arrogant ******** and don't forget that love and pleasure are most important, despite what anybody else says. When you panic, other people will panic, which is good, because in this confusion, you can make your escape. Mike T Minehan
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Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 9:14 PM UTC
Advice from Others
Whatever you do, keep smiling. Be nice to everyone and stand up for your rights. There are many paths to the top of the mountain but few of them are on the map. Keep running, never give up, and watch out for the seriously weird. Avoid psychopaths, if you can recognize them, be polite to witches and warlocks, eschew cannibals, beware of the hippopotamus in heat, don’t drink the second bottle when dancing the Funky Chicken, and only massage someone without pimples or hairy legs. Never give up and keep smiling. It's a hard life, it's a beautiful world, life's a ***** it's great to be alive, life is nasty, brutish and short, don’t give up and keep smiling. Everyone is a guru but ignorance is everywhere, and don't mix hallucinogens with depressants. If someone tells you that they're honest, treat them with the greatest suspicion. Live to the limits, we're only alive once, and that's just as well, because imagine if people you didn't like were immortal. Keep smiling, never give up, always hawk to windward, and never leave your underpants or ******* behind. Everyone's equal but only the strong survive, especially when they take from the weak because what you seize is what you get. The meek shall inherit the earth, but the earth that they inherit will be of poor quality with no mineral deposits. Party lots, work hard, never give up, and keep smiling. Don't work so hard you don't enjoy yourself, remember that the bird is on the wing, then it falls off its perch and becomes a miserable pile of feathers and feet. The fast lane is the best lane but it's very smooth and slippery and there are no road rules. Watch out for lawyers. Seriously. They put the devil in the details while their hand is in your wallet. Everything comes to you if only you can wait, but this takes too long. Clean your teeth, obey authority, except for arrogant ******** and don't forget that love and pleasure are most important, despite what anybody else says. When you panic, other people will panic, which is good, because in this confusion, you can make your escape. Mike T Minehan
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53
like ****** driven samurai's & cerebral poisoned psychopaths we slay each other with words. i choke you with my words and you hang me with yours, but we don't die. instead all that pain lingers at the back of our eyes and it causes us to see red. like sharp blades running through bruised skin from an injured soul, we silently dissect wounded minds. every one fights a battle. s(words) are potent, carefully wield yours. like lost swords in the wind. im a samurai poet. i use words as oxygen to help you breath and by reading these words you breath again. i use words as medicine to transfer positive energy to you, samurai reader. im a samurai **** im a lost blade in the wind. i use words like Martin Luther King and set free, i. i set myself free with my own words, i can because im a writer. words are freedom. words are captivity. words are destruction. words are peace. the tongue is mighty powerful. i use words to tell dispirited women that their beautiful because they grew up with the idea that beautiful is factory made products. the idea of beautiful is you. i use words to tell hurt men that they can cry because they grew up being told tigers don't cry. crying is human, and i was told tears are wisdom distilled. i use words to tell the youth they can be themselves because they grew up thinking acting like a fake gangster is all there is to life. the world is bigger than that. im a samurai poet. a samurai **** these words are blades. **** life. stay samurai cool.
0
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 10:19 AM UTC
samurai s(words)
like ****** driven samurai's & cerebral poisoned psychopaths we slay each other with words. i choke you with my words and you hang me with yours, but we don't die. instead all that pain lingers at the back of our eyes and it causes us to see red. like sharp blades running through bruised skin from an injured soul, we silently dissect wounded minds. every one fights a battle. s(words) are potent, carefully wield yours. like lost swords in the wind. im a samurai poet. i use words as oxygen to help you breath and by reading these words you breath again. i use words as medicine to transfer positive energy to you, samurai reader. im a samurai **** im a lost blade in the wind. i use words like Martin Luther King and set free, i. i set myself free with my own words, i can because im a writer. words are freedom. words are captivity. words are destruction. words are peace. the tongue is mighty powerful. i use words to tell dispirited women that their beautiful because they grew up with the idea that beautiful is factory made products. the idea of beautiful is you. i use words to tell hurt men that they can cry because they grew up being told tigers don't cry. crying is human, and i was told tears are wisdom distilled. i use words to tell the youth they can be themselves because they grew up thinking acting like a fake gangster is all there is to life. the world is bigger than that. im a samurai poet. a samurai **** these words are blades. **** life. stay samurai cool.
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16
The streets are clear, we're hydrophobic Hoods propped by hats and socks pulled high; The rain brings peace to the agoraphobic Puddles form moats and clouds fill the sky. Splash, droplets hit the window, chauffeured by the gale outside. Squint your eyes and flash back boats tilt starboard, with the tide. The captain shouts to the decks, paranoid 'Clear the decks and brace for impact' Without turbulence we are disenfranchised Boredom becomes us when we're boring. Shake it off and stare at the dot to dot the residual carving of water as it slides Another droplet falls beside it, parallel it aligns, growling thunder overhead. Without stirring we are robotic workforces Without awaking we are left inside The constructs created for us, by corporate- conglomerate elitist-psychopaths. Two drops of water on the window simmer red with burning anger. Crash lightening sears the sky Rage becomes you, girders melt. The starry night undercurrent, flings us backwards, never up, as democracies which seek to serve sink into a sea of stocks and shares, the wall street journal sits atop the captains lobby, economies were meant to tumble as the working classes fumble for bread, men in suits gaggle and toast to the millions they left for dead. Resistance is futile, when eighty-five of the richest suit owners sit on currency that was meant for the three point five billion who aren’t driven by gluttony.
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Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
Chrysalism
Here it goes again, Here it comes again, The articles about Psychopaths And the accusatory tone Twisting behaviors Twisting actions To sound toxic To sound dangerous To stamp a big red label on my skin, Screaming "AVOID THIS ONE AT ALL COSTS" While I sit and weep. But these articles Blog posts People fleeing from me Left and right Are lies, right? Tell me, please, Tell me, Someone? My anxiety and need to be reassured Roots from my PTSD, And my neediness and wants for attention Is normal for my upbringing, Right? And writing poem after poem About how much I care for you, And making playlists With songs in it That make me think of you, Is just a sign that I care, Right? I don't want to be A psychopath. I don't want to be A toxic person, I don't understand How telling someone you love them, Is bad? But these articles say that showering someone In constant attention and praise Means you're a psychopath. And these blog posts Are telling me that poems and gifts and music, All means you're selfish and unfeeling. But I don't want to be, I care so much, I love you so much. I'm afraid Of who I am.
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Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 8:34 PM UTC
Psychopath
Americana folklore, the modern vintage spoiled. Early 2000's became the dystopian 80's nightmare; beans spilled by bloodied action heroes part time self fulfilling prophecies. No religion as a crutch. We slay God as a fire breathing dragon, and go to war in 1st world countries because we're ******* mercenary psychopaths America as patriotism is nationalism is patriarchy is violence is a tautology. America is America. Has been and always will be; stupid, violent, full of "grace" [grace like plastic china]. They say Abe Lincoln was honest, and they say Jesus wept. Yeah, Jesus Wept, ************
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May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 6:25 PM UTC
"Beggar, beggar, beggar."
Museums as art Art as museums Sail the trail to my mausoleum Psychopaths and physicists Psychiatrists and philosophers Philanthropists and pilots and painters
 Declare now, that these are our days – Our hours, and our days These are our city, our hours Our time, our days. 
This is our world – At 14:92 I landed here and claimed it And searched it and found it wanting Of civilization that I could so easily supply By means of wounds and iron And brawn and truth (and just a tiny touch of influenza darling) By means of our Lord, Who grants us all that we desire If only we **** enough of those he did not choose. This is our world – And we shall make it what we will Make it in our own image Teach it that innocence is not knowing the difference between right and wrong Raise it to hate no one But to love itself so deeply That all other love seems hateful in comparison. This is our child, love Yours and mine.
 Here the first shall be last And the last shall be first But once the first are last they shall be Last Last       Last And once the last are first They shall make it so they can never be last again This is our primitive accumulation Of necessary materialism Let’s cultivate matter To make objects that we can place on shelves And in cases – These are our cases And we love them as we love ourselves
 Museums as mass graves Mass graves as museums Kiss me in my mausoleum Priests and prisoners Prostitutes and prophets Pioneers and pilgrims and pagans
 This is our time – And we are dispensing it in spendthrift increments Buying threadbare bandages for our cavernous canyons Buying ample earplugs To seal in the silence So we can somewhat say “look there is peace – Look we have done it In our time it is accomplished” – 
 This is our peace – And we know it by the signs The lions and lambs lay quietly together In our brass-barred zoos For as long as shelves and cases Are intact and the first are first And the last are last And the civilized are organized and holy There is peace – Oh, look We made peace! And as for Solomon and Socrates – We take their words to weave through our new wisdom And when we re-chart the constellations We shall give them each a star And salute them once a year When they come around the universe Oh, look How wise we are! Mass graves as art Art as mass graves There have been no better days There has been no greater time Politicians and pornographers Professors and pirates Psychologists and pastors and pianists
 This is our time – And we are doing with it the very best we know how The last are toiling and trying And the first are trying to think to try – But there is a shortness in our hours And a violence in our peace There is inherent foolishness in our wisdom And disease in our cities And there is death upon our shelves and in our cases. This is our world – We crafted it and declared our truth to be true We sculpted this, our colosseum Please inscribe my mausoleum With “we know not what we do”
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May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 5:43 PM UTC
of dissolution and mausoleum blueprints
Museums as art Art as museums Sail the trail to my mausoleum Psychopaths and physicists Psychiatrists and philosophers Philanthropists and pilots and painters
 Declare now, that these are our days – Our hours, and our days These are our city, our hours Our time, our days. 
This is our world – At 14:92 I landed here and claimed it And searched it and found it wanting Of civilization that I could so easily supply By means of wounds and iron And brawn and truth (and just a tiny touch of influenza darling) By means of our Lord, Who grants us all that we desire If only we **** enough of those he did not choose. This is our world – And we shall make it what we will Make it in our own image Teach it that innocence is not knowing the difference between right and wrong Raise it to hate no one But to love itself so deeply That all other love seems hateful in comparison. This is our child, love Yours and mine.
 Here the first shall be last And the last shall be first But once the first are last they shall be Last Last       Last And once the last are first They shall make it so they can never be last again This is our primitive accumulation Of necessary materialism Let’s cultivate matter To make objects that we can place on shelves And in cases – These are our cases And we love them as we love ourselves
 Museums as mass graves Mass graves as museums Kiss me in my mausoleum Priests and prisoners Prostitutes and prophets Pioneers and pilgrims and pagans
 This is our time – And we are dispensing it in spendthrift increments Buying threadbare bandages for our cavernous canyons Buying ample earplugs To seal in the silence So we can somewhat say “look there is peace – Look we have done it In our time it is accomplished” – 
 This is our peace – And we know it by the signs The lions and lambs lay quietly together In our brass-barred zoos For as long as shelves and cases Are intact and the first are first And the last are last And the civilized are organized and holy There is peace – Oh, look We made peace! And as for Solomon and Socrates – We take their words to weave through our new wisdom And when we re-chart the constellations We shall give them each a star And salute them once a year When they come around the universe Oh, look How wise we are! Mass graves as art Art as mass graves There have been no better days There has been no greater time Politicians and pornographers Professors and pirates Psychologists and pastors and pianists
 This is our time – And we are doing with it the very best we know how The last are toiling and trying And the first are trying to think to try – But there is a shortness in our hours And a violence in our peace There is inherent foolishness in our wisdom And disease in our cities And there is death upon our shelves and in our cases. This is our world – We crafted it and declared our truth to be true We sculpted this, our colosseum Please inscribe my mausoleum With “we know not what we do”
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99
Peak temperature water levels fake diagnoses white psychopaths starving hunger jingoism violence [systems that deprive us] guns entitlement shots fired accidents grief/mourning choking hazard corporate mascots corporate favoritism corporate bailouts corporate people ideology without monitor nationalism patriotism conservatives patriarchy murder-rape-suicide victim silence lack of conviction religious ********** false history infant mortality job insecurity invisible hands trickle down economics union busters corporate police brutal police evil police secret police debt bankruptcy foreclosure homelessness lost confused prisoner criminal banker war preparations propaganda ballots commercials advertisements campaigns money power puppets figureheads armies genocides **** bomb gas fire no survival violence wealthy lawyers assassinations heart complications death sleep.
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
"Jawbone; Prescription Assisted."
Who are we dealing with today, the psychopath on the left or right? All hail to mouth from the North, East, West, and South; how else will you convince your audience with all that inner charm you truly don't possess. Your heart is never in the right place but your full lips seem to flap about like a flatulent **** hole. All things considered, you try to come off as, "I can do it all", but we all know deep inside you're one of the laziest of zodiacal signs. Who else is going to catch up on Hollywood gossip and the latest in tacky fashions, most you Geminians seem to don and adore. It's not all bad, I mean, about the only thing you might be good at is reading this critical review and dismissing it because, like all true psychopaths you still refuse to take a look at all 36 personalities. Advice: Don't breathe...just leave this Universe, you piece of ****
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Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 10:45 AM UTC
GEMINI: MAY 21st-JUNE 21st
Everyone's out to outdo everyone else It's not even about meaning anymore It's how much press coverage it gets Whoever makes them "just" statistics And there's no fantasy draft yet Somewhere alone in his dark place Ruminating his environment Some bedwetting, fire starting, animal abuser Infantilized by the hatred of maternal instincts Projected on him De-evolved He likes the way she hurts him She abuses open hand words or clenched up fists of embarrassment It just fuels his homicidal tendencies His brains on the hate frequency And he's ready to let the fantasy slip Home is where the heartless host absence of emotional ghosts the boy the man the monster He lost it Family annihilator, He took his mother out last So she'd suffer through the destruction of the ******** Her wasted wish of abortion'd children. This was before the news vans This was before the first respondents This was before the society outlash Back to him alone in a dark place In the depths of his disturbing mind He sets higher stakes.
0
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 8:20 PM UTC
All The Best Psychopaths Have Mommy Issues
**** mit ein(e) gernierung of... ****** MACDONALDS for the protestants MCDONALDS for the catholics... and **** the rest of it whoop di do d'ah whoopsie!    **** it...   i always called the IRA the ginger ninja brigade... ******* ***** ha ha! is that even permitted? like... oopsies?!    oh **** the steam-roller is giving it a shot at reading the earth,.. flat...    map on paper? **** me... no app....              ****** you ever navigate a car through the German Rhine roundabout? what's in it? Dortmund.. Essen...              you know that constipated part of the road map of Europe...                ever navigate that trippy conundrum ******** of navigation? beside me...               can't speak german, won't navigate in german, no matter how many Mercedes-Benz they pump out from the Henry Ford institute of the reclining chair, supposing    die krupps to be squidgy clean... i think the european translation reads: die Dortmund Ringe... das Rhine Ringe... **** allocating yourself to a rally car...    navigate through that sort of German ********           achtung achtung... autobahn ende!                vorwärtskreis might as well salute for a second coming of... hítlear!     shaking Stevens?   huh?!                knee on the no contra the know: bother... the english won't know... isn't that nay?    i listen to too much lawyer jargon...              i'd love to listen to poetry... but... i figured...    lawyers play the slight of the sly of hand that poets exasperate into toying with words to accomplish art... lawyers? the impasse of judgement?   **** me!                   apparently the argument goes: down syndrome... psychopaths... 'ere by god's grace...    much grace, my lord...              too much grace...          two salvation pointers: (a) i won't drink with them... (b) i won't eat with them, (c) there is no "c" that isn't a "d" that isn't an "e" "f", etc! you get a zebra... you get a null bonus! a ******* safari of an automated anti hamster Boston outfit!
0
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 8:23 PM UTC
schlang
**** mit ein(e) gernierung of... ****** MACDONALDS for the protestants MCDONALDS for the catholics... and **** the rest of it whoop di do d'ah whoopsie!    **** it...   i always called the IRA the ginger ninja brigade... ******* ***** ha ha! is that even permitted? like... oopsies?!    oh **** the steam-roller is giving it a shot at reading the earth,.. flat...    map on paper? **** me... no app....              ****** you ever navigate a car through the German Rhine roundabout? what's in it? Dortmund.. Essen...              you know that constipated part of the road map of Europe...                ever navigate that trippy conundrum ******** of navigation? beside me...               can't speak german, won't navigate in german, no matter how many Mercedes-Benz they pump out from the Henry Ford institute of the reclining chair, supposing    die krupps to be squidgy clean... i think the european translation reads: die Dortmund Ringe... das Rhine Ringe... **** allocating yourself to a rally car...    navigate through that sort of German ********           achtung achtung... autobahn ende!                vorwärtskreis might as well salute for a second coming of... hítlear!     shaking Stevens?   huh?!                knee on the no contra the know: bother... the english won't know... isn't that nay?    i listen to too much lawyer jargon...              i'd love to listen to poetry... but... i figured...    lawyers play the slight of the sly of hand that poets exasperate into toying with words to accomplish art... lawyers? the impasse of judgement?   **** me!                   apparently the argument goes: down syndrome... psychopaths... 'ere by god's grace...    much grace, my lord...              too much grace...          two salvation pointers: (a) i won't drink with them... (b) i won't eat with them, (c) there is no "c" that isn't a "d" that isn't an "e" "f", etc! you get a zebra... you get a null bonus! a ******* safari of an automated anti hamster Boston outfit!
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90
*Let SPAM reign supreme Same as all mediocrities Hello Poetry* *Let lame egos win Peacocks, fops, vacuous thoughts Hello Poetry* *Let psychopaths shine Make all the peacocks ******* Satan ruling hell* *Hello Poetry Tireless self promoters Hoarders of nothing* *Let the clueless gawk At the boneyard of Peacocks Feather blatherings* *Hello Poetry ******* all life out of it Allowing lame writers* *Wolf Spirit blows hard Clueless rube awful Pontiff Hello Poetry* *Stars shining in void If ever there was lameness Hello Poetry*
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Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 9:05 PM UTC
Zx SPAM
Poor Putin is a dangerous psychopath No one likes to mention that one fact He is more like an ape than a human Sick little poor wasted Humanoid Vlad The Pope must be an openly psychopath Just the way he dress himself so foolish up Wonder if he is just enormously beautiful Naked with deadly eyes like Humanoid Vlad. ****** was a sick nasty **** psychopath A whole nation following his death path Now there is a ******* evil ****** Caliphate   Nothing to compare with Humanoid Vlad. I guess we all could be like psychopaths Take one deep look into our monstrous souls It contains mostly of neurons and pure fat We got no free will just like Humanoid Vlad. *Humanoid Vlad In ice cold motion Humanoid Vlad No love and no notion Humanoid Vlad Done it all calculated Humanoid Vlad His time hopefully faded*
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Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
Humanoid Vlad.
Has not enough been said About Cecil, the Lion? This has brought me to tears. For those who don't know Cecil lived in a Wild Life park In Zimbabwe. There was no hunting allowed So, some sick ******* Who is a big game hunter Dragged a antelope carcass So that Cecil would Come out of the park. He, then, shot Cecil With an arrow And Cecil was tortured Over forty hours. Cecil was tracked down, He was shot with a gun, He was decapitated, He was skinned. How is it that What is so magnificent As a Lion Is seen as nothing But a head and skin To decorate your living room? I've been to Kenya And Tanzania. They are glorious creatures In the wild. Why not just take a photo? Or just enjoy their magnificence And then leave With your enhanced soul? They say psychopaths Practice on animals first This sick pathology Has to end, not only for Animals but humans well. This man had a felony conviction For baiting black bears. He belongs in prison Although many think He should be decapitated As well. People are angry. And Cecil's Cubs? I used to watch a show Called: "Big Cat Diaries" And their fate is sealed As well. Lions practice infanticide And when a new male Comes to Cecil's pride He will **** all of Cecil's offspring To make their mothers Go into estrus So they can breed. One cub has been killed And not much hope for The other eight. Our neighbors bait Black bears, **** them, Skin them, stuff them And put them in their house. They seem to just enjoy Killing things for no reason They find great joy In killing things. They seem like Nice enough people But when you have So little respect for Life Can't it haunt Your human ties? I honestly feel Like someone Has shot my dog. And it makes me weep, Though the story Is now old. This man should Go to prison, And in Zimbabwe. Send the world A huge message That we are not Neanderthals We don't have to To **** things Out of sheer joy. We should not reduce Living things to Heads and hides.
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Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC
Cecil, the Lion
Has not enough been said About Cecil, the Lion? This has brought me to tears. For those who don't know Cecil lived in a Wild Life park In Zimbabwe. There was no hunting allowed So, some sick ******* Who is a big game hunter Dragged a antelope carcass So that Cecil would Come out of the park. He, then, shot Cecil With an arrow And Cecil was tortured Over forty hours. Cecil was tracked down, He was shot with a gun, He was decapitated, He was skinned. How is it that What is so magnificent As a Lion Is seen as nothing But a head and skin To decorate your living room? I've been to Kenya And Tanzania. They are glorious creatures In the wild. Why not just take a photo? Or just enjoy their magnificence And then leave With your enhanced soul? They say psychopaths Practice on animals first This sick pathology Has to end, not only for Animals but humans well. This man had a felony conviction For baiting black bears. He belongs in prison Although many think He should be decapitated As well. People are angry. And Cecil's Cubs? I used to watch a show Called: "Big Cat Diaries" And their fate is sealed As well. Lions practice infanticide And when a new male Comes to Cecil's pride He will **** all of Cecil's offspring To make their mothers Go into estrus So they can breed. One cub has been killed And not much hope for The other eight. Our neighbors bait Black bears, **** them, Skin them, stuff them And put them in their house. They seem to just enjoy Killing things for no reason They find great joy In killing things. They seem like Nice enough people But when you have So little respect for Life Can't it haunt Your human ties? I honestly feel Like someone Has shot my dog. And it makes me weep, Though the story Is now old. This man should Go to prison, And in Zimbabwe. Send the world A huge message That we are not Neanderthals We don't have to To **** things Out of sheer joy. We should not reduce Living things to Heads and hides.
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94
I just want to say how proud i am that i created this special group or collection; discovering so many talented poets that astound me with their dark and creative poetry! I'm in love with this collection more everyday! Please carry on being the creative psychopaths that you are! Perfect!
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Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
For all members and followers of "It's ok to be pscHOTic!"
Today, I'm going to **** them with kindness. I'll walk the streets with a skip in my step, corners of my mouth arched, skin tough. I will be rubber. I will not be glue. I will avoid sticks and stones. I will be Teflon. Yesterday, I killed someone, with kindness. I created art, in many ways, I created Hell. A page filled with gestures may seem ageless, however, a spectacular self-awareness occurs. There is closure. There is completion. Unlike the manipulation of one's face. There too is completion, but closure is not always certain. Some leave with last words that linger. Some lift their arms to The Lord, Lord hear their prayer. And others find themselves at peace, living on in the hearts and minds of others, loved or not. Is a legacy more important to an Atheist? That's speculative, I suppose. But if what they say is true, and most CEO's are psychopaths, then I would assume that it is. Monetary value will always triumph over theoretical morality. And I say that morals and ethics can be theory to a man certain of his faith, because in the end, sin can be absolved. Faith in a higher being, in something bigger than yourself, often leaves thought of peers as dismissible. For they have their own demons to overcome. How do you accept indifference in a system that is above natural law? Omnipotence should never be exposed to have a grey area, especially when it is considered to be set in stone. Oxygen and gravity aren't, but tell that to a man who is falling and trying to catch his last breath. Lastly, consider art. As the creator, the mastermind hidden in the clouds to let his work speak volumes. The divine grace that is told in brush strokes, in notes placed to play, to be presented. That's a beauty that is foresaken. Another key representation of something seen but not seen. Even a deaf man delivered notes he could not hear, rivaled ones able, and challenged normality. The difference between an artist, and a person producing art, is that an artist will use blood, whereas the latter searches for a comparable color.
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Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 5:41 PM UTC
An Untold Higher Power
Today, I'm going to **** them with kindness. I'll walk the streets with a skip in my step, corners of my mouth arched, skin tough. I will be rubber. I will not be glue. I will avoid sticks and stones. I will be Teflon. Yesterday, I killed someone, with kindness. I created art, in many ways, I created Hell. A page filled with gestures may seem ageless, however, a spectacular self-awareness occurs. There is closure. There is completion. Unlike the manipulation of one's face. There too is completion, but closure is not always certain. Some leave with last words that linger. Some lift their arms to The Lord, Lord hear their prayer. And others find themselves at peace, living on in the hearts and minds of others, loved or not. Is a legacy more important to an Atheist? That's speculative, I suppose. But if what they say is true, and most CEO's are psychopaths, then I would assume that it is. Monetary value will always triumph over theoretical morality. And I say that morals and ethics can be theory to a man certain of his faith, because in the end, sin can be absolved. Faith in a higher being, in something bigger than yourself, often leaves thought of peers as dismissible. For they have their own demons to overcome. How do you accept indifference in a system that is above natural law? Omnipotence should never be exposed to have a grey area, especially when it is considered to be set in stone. Oxygen and gravity aren't, but tell that to a man who is falling and trying to catch his last breath. Lastly, consider art. As the creator, the mastermind hidden in the clouds to let his work speak volumes. The divine grace that is told in brush strokes, in notes placed to play, to be presented. That's a beauty that is foresaken. Another key representation of something seen but not seen. Even a deaf man delivered notes he could not hear, rivaled ones able, and challenged normality. The difference between an artist, and a person producing art, is that an artist will use blood, whereas the latter searches for a comparable color.
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Completely befuddled We fake it as muggles The abuse we face alone Buries confusion in our bones The siren places fear in our hearts She can be ours If she wants the part We can get ahead By abusing those who would give their bread In this we are all the same Many silent murderers with unimportant names Psychopaths on angry paths Hell bent on ********** Would you let them continue to dictate the conditions? Do you trust the statisticians? We are the result of the easy decision The sagging construction of constant derision Another man's home subject to intrusion A stance is required to end the delusion They're not here to protect you It's all an illusion!
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Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 5:44 PM UTC
A Case to Transport
You or I could be lepers. Or hideously deformed. If we are it shouldn't matter. Photography, mixed up and twisted. Reborn. Pictures misted. Just who are you chatting to today? Mentally. physically. internet voices. Distorted. Misinformed choices. Maybe just genuine liars, Getting kicks. Turning tricks Preying on others. Taking the biscuit. You could be an angel Or one who follows you on cycle paths, (PSYCHOPATHS) Mental health issues falling out off your ears. No problem with mental health issues. Been there. Done it. Or better still put them onto your paper. Best place to put them. If you ask me. Maybe a sliver of communion wafer. Selling religion for half a crown. Maybe half a silver dollar. Ripping you off. While doffing his hat. Pretending to be, What you can't see. Words of naïveté. From she who is down. Unless you really know the one on the screen. Be ever so careful and I'm not being mean. (c) Livvi MMCV
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May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC
INTERNET CONVERSATIONS, INTERNET FRIENDS?
in  ft.lauderdale there is a tunnel. the Henry E. Kinney tunnel. it is dusty and loud. ghosts pass through there and beg me for change. little do they kno that i have the morphine. less fiends. all fiends. if you sit in there long enough youll gather waves of grey on your skin. like sand on the shore can become such pretty patterns. why am i writing this? the sun is shining. if god was my soulmate id cheat with the devil, and id have a very vivid imagination. pop-corn on sale. 50cents. broke tooth on kernel. cant afford the visit. dry mouth to **** dryers empty. loose change. loose cannon. a monster. is on the loose. you wake up and the doctor starts to say something but you eat him. quick! hand me a sqrew-driver. i want to **** a bird on my way down. if anyone ever loved and were loved by both parents then i am happy for you. you are: happy person. i have talked to many people. and they talk and they talk and they pass time with words..like gas. waste the breath and the small bones in my ear. and always remember: try to listen every once in a while. talk too much is rude. especially about nothing. please shut up. everyone. 2. 3. forever. 5. sick psychopaths.
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Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 10:53 PM UTC
food for the iguanas
They're saying psychopaths Take their coffee black. Cheers.
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Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 7:32 PM UTC
Black.
The Night hosts her socials for the monsters inside and out In the moonlight we come dancing, clinking bottles, wandering about We are goblins, ghouls, mummies, witches, zombies and misfits alike Dressed up in our finest tuxedos, pearls, lace, bloodstains and the like The Daylight wont have us, but the Night plays hostess to our monster bones She slips into her midnight blue party dress and she puts on the Ramones And we dance we dance we dance O, we are the dark psychopaths, the feared, the soulless creatures We companions by the moonlight are shaking, stammering vultures We are friends in wayward trudges, we are spitting, foaming vermin We are in love       We are the World's rejected kin The ghouls and the witches and our old zombie friends, The World's most dark and repulsive in clear-cut diamonds, We monsters aren't alone in the night, drunken, broke and hideous, Charming and disgusting, we are the Night's beloved insidious In the night, we are happy, giddy, wasted children We are the Fiend Club, we are the monster brethren Until we are caught, disfigured, drunk and red-handed        by the Daylight And we make our way home, to crawl under the floorboards        and sleep until twilight Until the Night's long fingers slip an invitation under the door And we will put our party dresses and our tuxedos on once more *O, the moon is out and the Fiend Club has woken The Night is young and we are broken*
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Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 4:53 AM UTC
Welcome to the Fiend Club
I'll write and say same words I've said      ten thousand times before Until I don't believe      that I believe them anymore Because riding on this carousel means spinning one's wheels into moist ground      thought I had some traction      but it seems I thought too soon-- So I am off of the rails Off the wagon. Off to nowhere. 'Cuz it's, "Onward, lads, to one more night spent covering ground's familiar footsteps and sheeting snowy sidewalks in the dollars we don't have." And we'll lay 'em kinda thick      press our prints in Presidents pro bono comes advice from the corners we can't heed, but por argento comes the cure we choose to **** our heads with I'll pick a place, polish my boots      get far as my front steps where I'll sit until the summer rolls around      and sweat rolls down in sheets Short sheeted best hopes, shortened thank-you notes and lists of ****** quotes lay around and resonate on floors and facebooks, tabletops in summertime,           when it rolls around But, now, it's winter and we're all 364 1/4 resolutions older      --at 33 revolutions per minute,      and 16 ounces at a time,      we can almost cope. Now, it's winter and the sheets are           still too warm Now, it's winter and we sheet the           snowy sidewalks in Presidential faces in the dollars we don't have and the cure we **** our heads with keeps us safely insane 'Cuz in a world built by psychopaths, the sane don't always last. And, if I'm the last one out? I'll sing a song and **** the lights before I go.
0
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
Sheets
I'll write and say same words I've said      ten thousand times before Until I don't believe      that I believe them anymore Because riding on this carousel means spinning one's wheels into moist ground      thought I had some traction      but it seems I thought too soon-- So I am off of the rails Off the wagon. Off to nowhere. 'Cuz it's, "Onward, lads, to one more night spent covering ground's familiar footsteps and sheeting snowy sidewalks in the dollars we don't have." And we'll lay 'em kinda thick      press our prints in Presidents pro bono comes advice from the corners we can't heed, but por argento comes the cure we choose to **** our heads with I'll pick a place, polish my boots      get far as my front steps where I'll sit until the summer rolls around      and sweat rolls down in sheets Short sheeted best hopes, shortened thank-you notes and lists of ****** quotes lay around and resonate on floors and facebooks, tabletops in summertime,           when it rolls around But, now, it's winter and we're all 364 1/4 resolutions older      --at 33 revolutions per minute,      and 16 ounces at a time,      we can almost cope. Now, it's winter and the sheets are           still too warm Now, it's winter and we sheet the           snowy sidewalks in Presidential faces in the dollars we don't have and the cure we **** our heads with keeps us safely insane 'Cuz in a world built by psychopaths, the sane don't always last. And, if I'm the last one out? I'll sing a song and **** the lights before I go.
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51
For gory guys and glamour ghouls The Night hosts her socials for the monsters inside and out In the moonlight we come dancing, clinking bottles, wandering about We are goblins, ghouls, mummies, witches, zombies and misfits alike Dressed up in our finest tuxedos, pearls, lace, bloodstains and the like The Daylight wont have us, but the Night plays hostess to our monster bones She slips into her midnight blue party dress and she puts on the Ramones And we dance we dance we dance O, we are the dark psychopaths, the feared, the soulless creatures We companions by the moonlight are shaking, stammering vultures We are friends in wayward trudges, we are spitting, foaming vermin We are in love       We are the World's rejected kin The ghouls and the witches and our old zombie friends, The World's most dark and repulsive in clear-cut diamonds, We monsters aren't alone in the night, drunken, broke and hideous, Charming and disgusting, we are the Night's beloved insidious In the night, we are happy, giddy, wasted children We are the Fiend Club, we are the monster brethren Until we are caught, disfigured, drunken, red-handed        by the Daylight And we make our way home, to crawl under the floorboards        and sleep until twilight Until the Night's long fingers slip an invitation under the door And we will put our party dresses and our tuxedos on once more *O, the moon is out and the Fiend Club has woken The Night is young and we are broken*
0
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 1:15 AM UTC
Welcome to the Fiend Club