Indoctrination of the American nation
Relocation of native populations
Slaves labor, creating plastic toys
To distract the little girls and boys
With media propaganda saturation
To numb your brain from realization
That we're living a lie as children die
To fill your tank so you can drive
To Wal-Mart for some *******' Cheesy Poofs
That scoop the dip in which you ****
Lay waste to nature's beauty abundant
Political doublespeak redundantly redundant
Television's collision with consciousness
Has dimmed your awareness to idiocy
In an illusion of democracy
Where only the rich have control
As upon us all they take their toll
And we blindly follow, believing as we hear
Their scheming lies of security and fear
It's time the power structure fell
No more this **** to buy and sell
Reallocation of the hoarded wealth
And power for all people, not oneself
Mental stasis, awaken from this hypnosis
And avert the coming catastrophic crisis
Our leaders are masters who march us to disaster
As the clash of our cultures ignites so much faster
Than mere cognition, dimmed by television
Can comprehend the impending collision
Of conflicting interest in collective vision
It's time to rise with a battle cry
And tell the Feds we won't lay down and die
We'll evolve and resolve the situation
And bring new meaning to revolution
An end to the media's web of confusion
Confusing reality with an illusion
Conspiratorial governmental parallels
A trumpet's blast, as Babylon.... fell.

It would take too much time
to spit out a rhyme, that exhales
the too many complicated details
of how I became a criminal.
If someone out there tried
to define the lines of limitation
that create stone cold walls
beholding all that is right and wrong
I would laugh in their face

There is no right time or place, for anything
despite all that grandma told me she can
Remind me that fried fish is fried in oil saturated with fat
as if my jiggling thighs didn't already know that

But I'll try to smile, despite the war I struggle to, need to fight
against the earthquake in my stomache but it's just begun to have it's fun

I feel disgusting.
I am ashamed.
I'm not aware of the rules to this game but everybody else seems halfway across the board

There was no one incident catapulting me to hell, I just think I was born there
And if you don't believe me there will be a yell, or screech to teach the meek and weak
who seek some form of hope, some drip or some leak
I will yell at you, when whispers drown the drums in your ears I will reveal the fears you've been trying to conceal for years and I will bring out your ******* tears

Why? why would I ever want to make you cry?
I don't, I just don't want to see you make the same mistakes I did
said every mother father aunt uncle sister brother family member ever

Where am I going with this?
These are not the consecutively places lines
I have been assigned for the poetry class I sit in at nine
These are lines on paper portraying, redundantly saying why I sometimes wish I would die.
Sometimes.

One of those times the mirror in the bathroom was not silent or flat it screamed,
"FRIED fish is FRIED in OIL SATURATED with FAT"
as if I didn't already know that

One of those times occured directly after one of those times
and I will never have enough security cameras
and I will never have enough freedom

Because in this universe, we teach the entire history of how jesus came to be
but shun faith in the stars or the wisdom of mythology
Because in this universe, healthy food is instantly corrupted and corrupted healthy food will get in your head-wait, no. Society cannot simply manipulate my brain
Because in this universe, I was already born insane
In this universe a sixteen year old girl can be sexually assaulted 3 times
and still be expected to feel protected
In this universe, a sixteen year old girl can feel older than dirt, tired and disintegrating
there's no SSRI that'll chemically clog this hurt

But my friends still stand beside me
They're solitary statues saluting my salvation
we live on our own planet of alienation and whenever
I can't find the rocket fuel to propel myself from my own pit of despair
they know not to say much, they know the importance of just being there

There will be no one supporting me my entire life
I'm my own husband, lover, my wife
I am the criminal being charged with crime
I am the mouse in the clock moving the hands of time
with that time, lessons yearn to be learned
In this life, we all just want to be heard

Please
spare me of sweetheart details
of how your traveled redundantly
and gorged on material things
with others money
as I earn my own
yet still receive complaints
and see little of those I love
so please answer me
what is free time

Life slowly fades like a burning candle;
From its wick shines a flame that is too hot to handle
We tend to compare the mystery of our existence to things;
How we die in the end, some decays even before their breathing begins.

What makes you tick when you are down, tired and weary?
How do you express your feelings when you are alone and empty?
As if you were cursed since birth that never a moment you feel lost;
You get used to overtime that sorrow became a company you treasured the most.

There are times our minds are preoccupied and overrunned;
By thoughts of negativity suffering torture that drags us down.
Why is it so easy to think something that weighs so heavy that we sink;
And drown to our own demise trapping ourselves and in our own drop of blood we drink.

This has been told a thousand times,suffered by many a million times;
But it never gets old redundantly, we feel and lingers inside our minds
That we accept that the world is cruel enough to some, why permit them to live;
Without God in their hearts and prayers unanswered in darkness they only believe.

I scroll through the pages redundantly
Left swipe right swipe as if suddenly
What I seek will appear in this app or that
I'll have what I need if I say yes to this ad
What did she do and why do I care
I guess I do as I continue to stare
Lost in this screen that holds all parts of me
Yet nothing close to what I really need
Do I know what that is can I find it as I swipe
Left and right up and down is my life
So convenient what a way to escape reality
Lost in the tangle of today's technology
Should I break away it this just how life is today
What would happen if the screen were to fade away
I'm too scared to find out so ill stick to my fancy gadgets
Oh I should live in the "real" world but I'm better off without it

But the road is a dead end.
The raccoons rampage your cooler and
The compass moves no more.
The stars stay in a moving place.
Circumnavigating your home upon
Every hour.
The poor, poor girl wanders the
Desolate halls. Books strewn on the tile.
Where shall she go? What shall she do?
The toothbrush moves redundantly so,
Updown, updown,
Updown.
Free-verse haikus, a figment
Of the imagination. Five-seven-five
Forever.
Molasses spills from every orifice,
The throat's opening blocked by
Slop and gunk.
Will anyone help?
One would like to think so, but
No such luck.

Stare in the mirror and
Comb your hair, your train
Is boarding now.

Maybe it’s just me
But I once thought you were the sun bright, a necessity for living; you rode in the sky’s like Hera
your hair gliding, grazing the clouds as wisps of nothingness in which I found my everything, but like everything else, it would seem a mirage, fantasy portrayed in my head despite the words that you so redundantly speak with no fruition. I’ve supposed the end before, but like reincarnation there is no end for this heart seems to never get enough of the addicting pain that it is fed. So now what? Take a look. It has a name; we call it numb. A persona where I feel nothing and feel everything at the same time. I would have climbed the tallest tree for you. Took the bullet for you, for it seemed that cupped in your hands was me, the moon that orbits the sun. Except that now the sun has darkened with white lies, and more lies that I choose to ignore because just maybe....just maybe there’s something left of you that I can tether to. You give me moments. Such sweet moments, addicting, and poison after. But it seems you’re a mastermind at the game, for, whenever I muster the strength to speak you give me more candy and again, I am addicted. If I could I would jump in the ocean and drown to escape the pain you constantly give me; but let’s face it. No matter how much I say, think, or write, the cycle you’ve conditioned me to will win and I will choke in my own absolution, laced with withdrawal from you

Acid leaks from my fingers
and you watch it with glee!
as time fragments and loops
repeat themselves redundantly.

My logic knows all and my shoes
have left my feet in search of a
robo-walk to maximize the pleasure.
I move in angles- trip trip trip----
stutter

All energy flows throught this very vessel
no need for nourishment, this ***** flies
backwards. Marching in grotesque lines
heading nowhere in particular. Faces
lose recognition and I die. die. die again.

My eyes are open? There is no difference.
All I see is a spiral tunnel filled with the
gruesome buzzing of infinite electric flies
and shades of nightmare.

Sound, words, fall short. I'm in a box
at a distance. Can't reach to decide whether
I'm sitting standing speaking. It tumbles out and splats
to the sticky purple mass
spittled like the sides of my brain
which pulse in a threat to implode

Waking dreams and living death
no borders in this country
a kaleidoscope of tulips, twisting strands
of gelatin, columns of panic,
and a glitch in the night.
A quick scream soon stifled.

I have every right to be angry with you
because that is the the only emotion pumping in my veins as I sit here
for the hundreth ******* time
trying to compose a rhyme about
how stupidly, how redundantly, how repetetively, how pathetically, how disgustingly
in love with you I was, I am, and I will always be
because there will never not be a part of you inside of me

Together, we defied everything
Anyone could see our differences before our similarities
but I've never seen more clarity than when you drive your car
I fickle with the radio, and we sing until the road behind us
spreads its wings and we soared
higher than any pipe we'd light or drugs we'd scored

The absence of your passion for life weighs down in my stomache
filling me with a daunting silence
I see your old house with its white picket fence and it calls to me
like cubes of cheese to a mouse

you taught me how to love

I'm not goos at recollecting memories and regurgatating them on paper
but if I could tell the tale of how we saved eachother
of how we learned to become our own savior, our own mother

Because I failed somewhere along the way
and I think about you every **** day
The skin around your eyes which used to simply serve its purpose
as protective epidermis, has sunken, down
I'd never try to make you frown
but you look like **** dude
and that sounds pretty rude
but in the past we sailed across the ocean
suspended by our hope wheeling in motion

you've given up hope and I'm unable to cope with your inability to cope
I am unable to cope with clouds in my kaleidescope
I am unable to cope with you doing dope
because I looked at you like a blind man who had never seen the stars at night
I would never tell you what's wrong from right
but we belong on the sea, Cassidy

I will never be able to explain how you changed the seasons for me
through any seasonal depression you've made up all the reasons,
I continue to fight on

One day I won't feel unsatisfied with my poetry and
I'll be able to conduct something lovely about a girl named Cassidy
but for now, I need to study for anatomy
Mr. Matthews would not excuse tears on my lab

Every few years I feel the need to see what else is out there.
In the past, it has caused my friends to grow up, while I reset and spin in the same circuit redundantly.
Every time I hear about their lives and success, I smile and shed a tear.
Every single one of them has deserved the respect and happiness they have found.

I don't live in regrets, and I'm not jealous or green.

I just know my life is different, and I still have things to earn.

I don't care if it takes years away from me, I've always believed that the end didn't matter.
Live every day not for the future, my father always told me.

And everyday I spend here, I've never been happier.

The dwarf at the bus stop dressed in his camouflage.
Trying to escape from a fantasy.
He was on his way to upper earth.
He toked on his joint as for the bus he waited.
Had icicles on the tips of his beard, or maybe just drips of the tea that he'd dribbled.
He wasn't young, nor was he old.
He sure as hell looked very cold.
My bus came, carried me away.
Off into the fantasy of another great day.
The sun gleams redundantly, she's not warming the world.
Today's missing Fahrenheit are making my toes curl.
(c) Livvi

One night, one lady asked,
How do you see the world so vast?,
I answered with an abated voice,
"I simply look at it with nodding head's rejoice

She redundantly asked again;
"How do you see the world in-sane?,
I answered with shunned eyes,
"I never do, I never have, it's a fluke, a LIE"

As she sat and leaned,
First at air's wisp and second,
on my shoulder's plead,
-and said-"This is where all ethereal lies of gist"

"Where art thou", I asked,
She giggles in reminisce; grabs a flask, then drinks in stillness
"This empty bottle is filled with greatness"-she says-
"To what extent?" as I gazed

"Haha..... to none" she laments over,
"None?, surely not, This flask is liquid's lover
It helps give form
To whatever desolated-looking storm"

Both depend on each other's existence,
She then swiftly seizes my hand
"Answer then my question with consistence"
"Well I guess the world is undersized but grand?" -I pondered-

"Close enough", as she yawns
As I bring her to bed,
I then see the brimming dawn
-I leaned back and thought-"Huh, the world is yet to be well-said"

They come in waves
Each one receding
And a fresh breaker each meeting
To lap against the seaboard
Phases,  individually different
Like seasons changing
They bring me reasons
To wish for steadier climates
Markedly too many cloudy days
And frosty iced beaches
Frigid and barren sand dunes
Glossy with the sheen of nothingness
Phases, always redundantly taunting
It cycles with the moon
As the tide rises
Deluge swelling to a riptide
A clumsy waltz, gravity and satellite
Fuller and more violent
With each movement
Threatens to deepen any second
The further it pulls
The farther the tendency creeps in
Shoreline expanding,  threshold capsizing
Each pulse a tender beat
I walk barefeet in the shallows
Timid to dare to wade too deep
Past the places I'm comfortable enough
With the feeling water against my exposed skin
And from here I can find stones to skip
Why would I trade leisure for treading
The sunset on the horizon
looks far more beautiful when
You can stand to see it
Phases, they help me remember I'm breathing
Because how can you bear to be alive
If you're not feeling
You're not truly living

Like a faster than light chicken attack
Breaking out of the Higgs field,
With an explosive egg launcher in my backpack
Redundantly pecking at the spaghetti-like wormholes,
As if I can actually eat them
With destiny calling,
Like saying goodbye to the Bekenstein limit
And applying some pressure with an infinite-bit tourniquet.

You are walking through what seems to be a narrow hallway. Bodies stick to the walls, complacent with the space given, bumping shoulders, shaking hands, saying hi, saying goodbye.

You hold your school bag closer to your chest. There is a laptop in there-- pens and notebooks. Things you need. Things you cherish. And as time will not stretch, you make your way to class, do not worry, -- it will quickly pass.

The ceiling lights in the classroom are dull, dying, uninteresting. Bodies file in, breathing heavy, sighing heavy. As the florescence seems to keep you further away, it is dimming you as well, repressing, submitting-- only you cannot tell.

He speaks redundantly. Hands raise high-
do they even know what they are going to say?- you wonder this at every selection. He points to she and he and they. They who are chosen, loud and bold. He says "YES!- You are right ma'am. Let us begin to unfold."

She rides in with the moonlight,
the hollow echoes of her footsteps,
silent as her smile glows in night,
as those sparkling eyes match.

I wore pride like a badge across me,
at shoulder height, slung right across,
the fact that she’s mine, forever to be;
silent as my smile glows in night.

The cusp of the air grows beyond stars,
cherished breath; we matured forward,
redundantly relaxing beyond the yard,
as we stood in the tenacity of the dark.

There is not one thing left in the world,
just two souls stuck silently smiling.

12/24/07

1:31 am


She sleeps like a female
orgasming
arms up over her head
fists gripping invisible string.

She snores like a feline
a pleasant purr
redundantly peaceful in rythm.

Stirring
she moves slowly
looking disgruntled
by a jostle from my side of the bed.

Open palms like jesus
relaxed and willing
to save my soul.

Beneathe the covers
her legs are a valley
a proud flock of geese in winter
and i am always their leader.

The cotton sheets
covering her steady soles
present two perfect triangles
like the smooth wooden building blocks of yesteryear
or mommy-tailored sandwich halfs.

Stirring again
she props her arms under her calm face
soft and sweet
pulsing and pure.

Her hair, the darkest moss
spry and lively
tangled in ribbons
like christmas bows
just waiting to be unwrapped...

By: Cedric McClester

Cops shot
As it redundantly repeats
We havta get these guns
Off of our city streets
The answer could be pressure
From the corporate suites
To get our law makers
To apply the heat

Cop’s lives
Have to matter (it’s a must)
Cuz they’re charged with
Protecting us
When they’re on patrol
Believe and trust
They’re not looking for things
To combust

Cops aren’t no different
From me and you
After their shift
They want to go home too
To the front doors
They usually come through
To do whatever
They usually do

Cop’s on occasion
Sometimes go astray
Though it’s unfortunate
That is not to say
They deserve to be shot
As a way to pay
Because I’m here to tell ya
That it’s not okay






Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016.  All rights reserved.

waver how to take what you say
to me between a compliment
and a permanent slur
which often is my fault

I endure on  trying to say
to you my dear you  complement
me so so much so far
which is my guilt

when I get petulant
redundantly exposed to
what I think
are fits

then I look back through the stem of the bottle

The end is never the end and steps become stages.
Neuro-transmissions engineered at birth are
erroneous pathways deepened over time.

Retrain the brain they say, neuroplasticity
a new age of hope, but pathways are abyssal
and unscalable, and time is running out..  

And what is life's purpose
When your deepest chasm is fear?

Therapy teaches to live in the moment
Experience keeps me seeking atonement

Those places to go to for calming the mind
Are fleeting, elusive and redundantly non effective,
Losing their ability to heal, so few to rely on!

Like a tiny window in a prison cell,
Only a little light is let in but not too often, transient,  
Crossing your face for a moment but then gone.

More so a reminder
Of what might have been
Or may never be.

Mountains can't be climbed with moments.

Dreams dissolve quickly upon waking,
The harder you try to hold them
The quicker they are gone.

I wonder if they are real at all.

Small victories in a multi-faceted war
Do not define sobriety.

More demons to conquer

The worst for last perhaps unbeatable.

My absent minded eye,
turned inwards on issues
of land and place,
did not at first see your dilemma

As the bully bird towered over
you hopped in looping rolls to flee

My eye caught up
and my fat presence unnerved the bird
who flew
and though I presented a different challenge
you bounded hedgeway
pausing in front of me momentarily

Our eyes met,
your black polished buttons
spelled your youth
and redundantly I greeted you

I stepped aside
to better let you escape
to tangle green safety
and I was alone again,
grasping at thoughts

The rest of my walk was elevated:
a wind struck tree,
dry guts splintered,
said something

A lithe muntjac
rose panic in me as it sought to pass,
it’s leaping form unusual,
but there and gone
before I knew

Green woodpecker laughed
at an unknown gag
and my brow furrowed

Toward the end
the complicated wren song,
a grammar babble way beyond,
underscored my lack of comprehension
all the way home

Missing someone who was never real
Someone who never existed
Pain I feel
And feel redundantly
Mind unfocused
Soundly

I weighed the options.
Should I or shouldn’t I?
That is the question:
I’ve done it so many times before
And been rebuffed each time.
The answer should be clear;
I should be firm,
But each time I hesitate
And then relent.
Should I, this time,
Risk it again?
Why not?
Why yes?
I’ve stated the obvious;
Repeatedly and redundantly
And still I consider doing it.
It costs nothing
And if the result is the same
I’ve lost nothing.
But why, this time,
Do I seem more resolved against it?
Yes!
I’ll click the button
And submit the story.

The empty unknowing, remains an exhausting seclusion. A labyrinth adorned with collisions of torture and obscurity. Cultivated by knowledge, and obtained by the bewilderment of the unknowing. Attained, and retained, by a meager rendition of pale reflections. Set only upon a silent opaque stage. Redundantly examined within wisps of unattainable enlightenment, curiosity stalks its prey. Crushed from above by the weight of existence, and measured only by chance. I watch as chaos plunders deep, consuming all within the eternal garden. The choice of confusion depicts my last state of the present.

I don't believe in you
Nothing personal, only policy
One developed a long time ago, and rooted deep
Like a ****, started off small
Not watered daily
But instead fed by the constant scorching heat of doubt
The stray falls of skepticism from the clouds
And the scattered whispers from weeds among us
They come in large amounts

You hold a strong title
And have been called many names
None of which I think are worth a breath
So instead they share only one
God
Love
Family
Friends
Purpose
Optimism
Hope
They are all as redundantly ridiculous and deserving of ridicule
As the next
A clown car in which one silly, silly entertainer emerges after another
Each one's existence almost goofy enough
Worthy enough
To provoke a mixture
Of a scoff and a giggle
Almost

However, if someone were to be here, where I am now
See what I see
Know what I know
Feel what I feel
I could understand, ever so slightly
Why they might choose to believe