"retard" poems
Goodnight ******
You fill me with sorrow;
Goodnight ******
You might die tomorrow.
Grunts and farting make me quite forlorn
But with each dawn I feel new-born;
Goodnight ******
While I'm deep inside you.
Goodnight ******
Let me lie beside you;
Goodnight ******
O what fun to ride you.
Goodnight ******
Straightjacket enfold you,
Strong enough to hold you,
Goodnight ****** goodnight.
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 7:28 AM UTC
Autism Speaks don’t speak for me.
Cause I reject their reality.
What if I felt the exact same way
about their neurotypicality?
See, normal?
It’s a peculiar word,
and I guess it means I’m not following the herd.
But I don’t see why you want me gone—
At least I’m alive. At least I’m strong.
******
My existence a crime.
A baby they’d abort if they’d only had the time.
Early detection.
Eugenics by another name.
Autism speaks till you silence it without shame.
Auschwitz for Autism, soon to be in business—
Neurotypical Nazis, only trying to finish us
Yeah, to you we’re hardly people,
and driving off a cliff with your daughter isn’t evil?
Well, here’s another wakeup call for the sheeple.
You exterminate so much you make the Daleks look peaceful.
Well, aren’t I human? Answer me please.
Because your fear and “awareness” has me down on my knees.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 3:56 PM UTC
It was when his finger prints left marks on my coffee cup
in that Starbucks he politely gave me my warm hazelnut
I remember how I got a little struck of his height
he made me look at him like I am gazing at the stars
It was his 'hi' that painted my crooked smile
followed by a simple question, "what's your name?"
God, he's so cute in that black t-shirt and snapback
I sounded like a ****** when I speak my name out
It was his vibe and a little of his laugh
that got me re-arranged a space in my mind for him
as he threw compliments with the same amount
of every single thing I like about his consuming eyes
It was a bye-bye that evening where it started to rain
and I counted his steps as he walked away from me
along with the ticking clock for his first phone call
cause he stole my every attention until I stumble and fall
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
To all the ************* who don't
Know what is and isn't important
For their own **** good.
A ***** rigid, spiked, smelly
One finger salute for each
And every one of you.
This ************ throws his kids
Out into the streets in November.
Big man of the house who trys so
Desperately to be intimidating,
With a ****** back and a
Horrible stench of alcohol on his breath.
This ************ who thinks she's special.
The stuck up ***** that too closely
Resembles a plump ****** carrot.
Who thinks the perfect guy is a hairless
Fruity smelling mommy's boy *****
With perfect flippy hair and a big ****
This ************ the few, the proud,
The fruity smelling mommy's boy *****
Who wouldn't know a pair of pliers
If they were ripping off his sparkly earrings.
Never having an ounce of dirt on his hands,
But at least she... I mean he has nice teeth.
This ************ that can't tell one honest
Fact about his "hard and lonely" home life.
The one who nods and laughs but just wants to ****
Who beats off to his computer after taking a hit
That he bummed off his rich friends.
Who is confused as to why some people (me) hate him.
This ************ who screws with the emotions
Of one of the best guys ever to glide through her life.
Who throws him on a roller coaster with smiles
And flirtatious giggling while she lets him kiss her.
Then throws him to the side and takes the next in line.
I wish only the very best for you, you ****** *****
Those ************* who abuse, torment
Or play with someone who just wishes the best.
The ones who hurt the vulnerable
To feel better for themselves.
No one deserves the **** you give,
Except each and every one of you.
Honorable mention to those *******
That complain about all men being the same
When in reality they're just searching for
The same type of meat headed ******
Every time they have such a painful terrible
Breakup. Just shut the **** up. For real.
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
From out the dragging vastness of the sea,
Wave-fettered, bound in sinuous, seaweed strands,
He toils toward the rounding beach, and stands
One moment, white and dripping, silently,
Cut like a cameo in lazuli,
Then falls, betrayed by shifting shells, and lands
Prone in the jeering water, and his hands
Clutch for support where no support can be.
So up, and down, and forward, inch by inch,
He gains upon the shore, where poppies glow
And sandflies dance their little lives away.
The ******* waves ****** and tighter clinch
The weeds about him, but the land-winds blow,
And in the sky there blooms the sun of May.
4.7k
cherry blossom was his smoking hot girlfriend.
they moved in together, probably in 2007.
he met her online, he was married to a woman
who he said was a fundamentalist. they had four kids,
three daughters and a son.
he wrote a lot about how his fundamentalist wife had turned
the three daughters against him. as the years went by,
he forgot their birthdays and ages because it hurt too much,
so he wrote.
"cherry blossom, you're going to make it
with your unbroken man who i hope to thank
one day for making you happy", he wrote
in a journal entitled "the last one"
dated late September of 2012.
they broke up in mid August 2011
from a journal entry dated at the end of October 2012:
"ten things you want to say to ten different people"
cherry blossom was first on the list
cherry blossom's unbroken man was second on the list
cherry blossom's son of a different baby daddy was third on the list
his own son was fourth on the list
his daughters were not on the list at all.
he was glad she was with a good guy. he didn't have to worry about her. unbroken guy was a good guy, he loved unbroken guy for that. her son was a good guy, he was glad that her son got to hang out with him and his son.
according to the public messages his friends left on his profile and the last time stamp on his activity feed,
he must have died almost three years ago,
in mid August, 7 years to the exact date
he had posted a journal entry explaining
that they had broken up and cherry blossom was moving out.
7 years is the same amount of time
it took for jacob to get rachel as his wife
after being deceived into marrying leah.
he had other journal entries too,
they go back to 2008, so some of them
cover his time with cherry blossom
cherry blossom was smokin hot,
they had *** parties
cherry blossom got all the attention
because she was smokin hot
he had bottomed to his vanilla fundamentalist wife
who turned his three daughters against him
but cherry blossom was his submissive
so cherry blossom was the way
cherry blossom introduced him to swinging, **** and gang bangs
his fundamentalist wife, who he never got a legal divorce from,
turned his three daughters against him.
he had 342 friends and 13 followers on his fetlife profile,
five left public messages on his wall after he died.
cherry blossom was so smokin hot.
Mar 23, 2021
Mar 23, 2021 at 8:54 PM UTC
Above my home where the dark clouds
curl into the sky clinging for a home to
rest their sleepy depiction, shadowed
trees hum sweet lullabies, lonely leaves
breathe in the sad song of fallen dimensions,
letting its lifeless view roll upon their frame,
the chilled breeze sailing in the skyline,
as I scramble my way out of a filthy dumpster,
a mountain of disintegrating mess covering
my broken body, hovering flies surrounding
sticky strips of spaghetti, moldy mashed potatoes,
and moldy chicken *** pies, while my mind sunk
into traveled thoughts, bruised hands pressed against
the creases in my forehead, allowing my existence
to feel the stranded scars streaming in various mazes,
dull eyes flushed with a burning disorder, aching cheeks
and chests nestled in darkening chamber corners, buried
hips and thighs uprooting in somber blades of grass,
thorned, torn, and destroyed in different worlds. As I stood
on the slippery pavement staring at the ruffled scenery
in my sight, spinning streetlights thickening into slouched
positions, screaming sidewalks spilling sadness and madness
in the drenched air, razor-edged buildings inching into crushed
centimeters, jumbled meters, ****** yards. I replayed the sober
images in my head, the way my young brown-skinned mom said
I would never amount to anything, how I could hear the raged
noun ****** sift into the distance, its flaming mechanics
accelerating into screeching sounds, the way she hurled
her fists at my smashed face, every vibrant language
breaking apart, slamming shut into closed infinites,
snagged contractions and gerunds diverging into
shuddering double spaced negatives, the way she threw
my lingering body inside the trash dumpster, her sharp
scarlet words, You are no son of mine, ricocheting off
savage surfaces, sparking my soul in a calamity
of choking diction.
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 1:04 PM UTC
A poem by my friend Stan Blackberg (the total ******
There are flowers standing proudly, one for each whose loved ones mourn,
Speaking out so clear and loudly, for that fateful treacherous morn,
When the aircrafts bashed them up and all their flesh got burnt & torn!
Do we honour them with killing, taking up arms to spill more blood,
Or take lesson if we’re willing, a bitter pill for common good,
Or sit unbeguiled with our faces stuffed with fattening food?
There’s no god would take such action, justify such murderous deed,
Those insane within such factions, find posthumously they heed,
It's upon such wickedosity that our nostrils froth and bleed.
Hear the painful hard earned lesson, lest their names we desecrate,
Take not slaughter as your banner making killing escalate,
And by no means forget to have a mutual **********
Place our sentries all united, shed thee not another drop,
Silence now all angry gunfire, when’s the killing ever stop.
And the blood falls from above with a loudish plip and plop.
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
Holy **** I'm a ****** got no grit and finds life hard.
Got ***** whipped and now I can't get hard. Gonna sing myself to sleep and dream of discharge.
Walk a mile, fake a smile, i'm stuck as a child.
Fighting my mind, desperately trying not to be evil.
People dying, I see them. A voice, it tells me to eat them.
I know your insides I can practically feel them,
Every bone, every muscle and tendon.
Skinless people feel they need to follow me around,
I try to run but they catch up and pin me to the ground.
Pry my mouth wide, put your tongue inside and suddenly there's no sound.
A white noise fills my mind and a darkness washes over my eyes.
I'm skinless too, I can join those who used to follow me, through the red I see blonde.
Lips i need to kiss, a skinless body I need to hold.
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 2:02 PM UTC
i just can't stop thinking about that day
I remember, you were wearing grey
without a clue, you sat by my side
never thought our worlds would collide
there's something about you I just can't explain
making my brain go insane
lose myself whenever you're around
like my heart melted and it fell to the ground
i wonder if you ever feel the same
whenever they mention my name
was ignorance just part of your game?
or should i be the one to blame?
i fell too easily and crashed too hard
somehow i feel like a ******
in my thoughts you would dwell
you had me listening to Adele
you are the light in my darkness
the smile in my sadness
though i know this is foolishness
you existence is still my silent happiness
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 8:23 AM UTC
Our fellow ******** people, or should I say mentally handicapped, have two eyes, a nose, and a beating heart far more large and caring then any1 else's. Everyday people abuse the word ****** We use it to describe something slow or stupid. The problem with this is that everytime you use that word, you're insulting a group of people that cannot defend themselves.
The mentally handicapped aren't locked in dark basements to rot and die anymore; they're out in the world living as every1 else. And becuz of this we've "accepted" them right? We're a big happy and accepting world to every single human being becuz we're all equal! WRONG. We glorify freedom and how wonderful it is, but with freedom comes hate. With freedom comes words that r always going to be there forever, just to remind the human race that some1 with an extra chromosome is different.
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
**** the Police
Coming straight out the underground
Young brother got it bad
Cuz I look Mexican and I'm brown
Can't forget to do diarrhea
on the sheriff deputies
Cuz you wear a uniform and a badge
think you deserve respect like a G
Biggest violaters of civil rights
in the ******* land
take advantage of everybody
cuz you think we're stupid and you can
Where are you going? What's your name? Are you on Probation?
California is not a stop and identify state
How about I cuff your ***
Take you to an alley and let out all my frustration
Am I under arrest?
Or am I free to go is what I ask
Boo bop & slit your throat
come up from behind with a ******* Chucky mask
I'm the worst ******* nightmare
there ever has been
A conscious, Chicano, 5 percenter
Moorish American free national citizen
How about next time you **** one of us
We hunt you down, home invade your family
and launch you all of a cliff in a bus.
Quick to leave a pig bleeding left for dead in a ***** ditch
***** sewed to your mouth, you wanna be me punk *** *****
Or we'll cut your head off
and stick it to a thousand foot pole
start the vampire nation, count Vlad's idea yea I stole.
14th amendment, 85 percenter
corporate security guard
driving a big *** truck with your undersized *****
and you think your all hard, you ******* ******
You're obvious and pathetic
I got no time to play
We don't die we multiply and the movement is here to stay.
Get off me stupid I ain't signing no autographs
Che Guevara reincarnated now who has the last laugh?
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 6:48 PM UTC
oo put dis paintin on me walls
me gona find out eider way
me gona drive to niagra falls
to find out who ruined me walls
*rip bing bing pop, ****** come in on line 1
no not extension 1, line 1, no wonder they call u
******
ey ***** me say to me wife
dis be yor stupid paintin,
no steve it aint (read double life)
**** you dis be ugly anyways
sorry steve, shush *****
u no i turned reggae
me name aint steve anymor
call me steve one more time
and il shove a lawnmor up ur ***
its reggae mon not steve
*rip bing bing pop, ****** come in on line 1
no not extension 1, line 1, no wonder they call u
******
johny johny, "yes papa"?
did u put dis tin on me walls?
"no papa", telling alie?
"no papa", close your eyes
smack! dont put any tin
on me walls *******
sorry papa it wasn't me
shut up, smoke a splif *******
*rip bing bing pop, ****** come in on line 1
no not extension 1, line 1, no wonder they call u
******
hoo could ave put dis ting on me walls?
maby is me smoke me a splif
me will remember if me did it or not
but me out of rolling papers
and me left me ganga in me rig
*rip bing bing pop, ****** come in on line 1
no not extension 1, line 1, no wonder they call u
******
me left me rig at me work
me boss dont no ow to twerk
me boss tink she no ow to twerk
no wan wants to break da news
me just a shy island boy
still confused bout de paintin
*rip bing bing pop, ****** come in on line 1
no not extension 1, line 1, no wonder they call u
******
love reggae
love ganga
love art
love poetry
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
Lost all that there was,
No courage to build new.
Sweet Remorse!
Shadows cast do follow,
Guided by a source.
Fades away!
Being insane a cancer,
Sorrows feed on blissful memories,
Chokes the respect for life,
Death deceives laughter,
I am a doomed ******
Sorrows imperishable bind the soul,
Graveness Despair rules my world,
Tearing Blades of animosity,
bleeds me to death,
I am a doomed ******
Scary unholiness destructs all wisdom,
Melancholy songs strangle all smiles,
A streak of lightening burns the mast,
A single thought unsettles the mind,
I am a doomed ******
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 12:50 PM UTC
why i am an only child?
you have to ask the Polish women
who were forced to drink iodine....
1986...
Chernobyl...
it spread to Poland from the Ukraine...
a "rainbow" effect,#as my great-grandmother
recounted...
in the local park?
streaks... of autumnal trees
in their full bloom decay,
and the furthest green in summer...
a strange time...
why wouldn't my mother have
more children?
i guess, in fear of breeding a ******
pro-life, what?!
you raise them!
see how they turn out when
you're dead!
god's "grace"...
you ever curate the fate
of your grandmother?
well then!
now you know!
nature is ruthless!
man attempting to
overcome it?!
you know
what nature does?
i know what nature does...
steam-roller and...
somehow the most vocal speakers
are those daring to
question the feathers
of a macaw parrot...
substituting it with
fashion trends...
mort in concencus,..
vive in conscissio...
i might have been born with
a sibling...
but i wasn't...
the Scandinavian countries learned
of it,
from under, beneath the iron curtain...
and who can actually blame Gorbachev?
when the U.S.S.R. was made
dissolute?
and no war took the zeitgeist
garments of a pope's approval?
no cardinal red,
with Attila's river...
who is to blame,
the scolded transition period of peace?
no one unless my grandfather can
understand the peaceful transition
of the disintegrated U.S.S.R.,
into a Russian Fed.?
no one?
but the women of Poland
and the Ukraine? still had
to drink iodine...
and i am...
i am...
i am...
i will always be...
the long lost cousin of the Chernobyl
geblüt;
there is not concept of
a butterfly effect...
when it comes to the query of an,
atomic reactor!
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 10:50 PM UTC
Hey you there.
Hey you all there, but for right now
Hey you there.
I have so much to say, but the
Time & Ink are not on my side.
I Love You ! I Love You ! And what happened made me feel like crap.
I hated it.
But i Loved it, & now i always will.
I have so much to say but the Time & Ink aren't on my side.
I have the words to Explore, Shine upon, and Discover for an infinite length of time - But time has some evil in it.
I have the Time to write, Express and tell an amount of words so infinite - But it turns out Ink has some evil in it.
Oh how im stuck.
Im completely left alone in the unknown.
Im shocked.
You were the best, but now you're just your best.
Oh how much i miss you, but i think i miss the Heart-Break more.
I have so much Love to give, so update yourselves.
It's New News, and New Olds.
Im not the same old, same old - Im Differently New, Differently New.
My clocks big and little sticks go Time-Ink ! Time-Ink ! The scribbles of my pen go Time-Ink ! Time-Ink ! And i feel it so much the beat of my Heart goes Time-Ink ! Time-Ink !
I have something to say; But im gonna keep it to myself.
If your mind understood .. I'd **** you.
My soul is so sharp, and my words so precise - I'm glad you're a ****** !
Im glad people know their "own best".
Im just sorry peoples "own best" don't know their own best.
Time-Ink .. Time-Ink ..
Let me say this how my Time-Ink circumstance allows me to.
I don't want to make you jealous -
And i don't want to hurt your feelings.
I only want to hurt your thoughts.
Let me stab & tear stab & tear your thoughts with Time & Ink Time & Ink until you're confused.
Until you don't know if you know or do not know what you're doing.
Until you don't know if you're Free or if you're Tied up.
Help, Im Alive - My Heart Keeps Beating Like A Hammer.
Time & Ink, Time & Ink.
I have a few minutes and few scribbles left to say what i want to say.
Death will happen.
That's the ugliness of Time & Ink.
Is it worth expressing myself with this evil ?
Oh well im doing it anyways.
I swear i will break this pen !
And **** all time !
And disappoint their assumed knowledge of an expected time and amount with Death to their lives.
I love everything about you.
Even after all the Time & Ink ..
I have come to notice that i Hate only how you are society, and a product of society so typically biased..
But only because i know what you will do.
So To You There, Time & Ink.
To You All There, Time & Ink.
To Us .. "Time & Ink" And Love.
Mar 10, 2011
Mar 10, 2011 at 9:27 AM UTC
you kidding me, right?
nachos? tacos? tortilla wraps?
guacamole molé molé?
sombrero(s)...
the revised eastern european
moustache?
tequila!
that's it?
well... not if you consider
the second tier of soy boys -
the ones that drink that...
budscheiss that's
"der könig aus bier"...
one word... no... actually two:
CER-VE(H)-ZA(H) -
probably the spanish word,
that sounds better than all
the other spanish words...
what did mexíxíxíxíco give
us?
the orthodox script
of a german beer:
yeast, hops, barley, malt,
water... fizz: boom!
a fine summer's day...
mexíxíxíxíco beer?
MALTED, BARLEY...
don't ask me how the genius
figured out a smoothness
so subtle,
that you actually had to shove
a lime wedge into the neck
of the bottle...
or, as i did - buying an almost litre
sized bottle,
and a lime -
looking at this ***** goliath
at the checkout thinking:
david?
am i david?
did we really enslave such people?
david, meet goliath...
goliath wanders off like some
happy ****** giggling and brings
another strawberry milkshake
to the checkout...
so the west, enslaved these
nearing 7ft Baobabs?
king david's audacity,
nothing more...
so i buy the CO(H)-RHO-NA(H),
and a lime (30 pence a piece)...
**** no knife...
guess teeth will have to do...
shove a whole lime in bits and bites
and walk on...
seriously?
guacamole molé molé?
that's the best you can do?
drinking a beer with lime...
compared to the h'american
budscheiss?
who... apart from the japanese...
extracts alcohol...
from: ******* rice!
malted, barley...
whoever that sergio
sanchez was...
hats off to him...
sometimes it's just nice...
to take a break from the heavy cavalry,
orthodoxy brew of german
beers...
americans?
know jackshit about brewing
a decent beer...
mexicans?
they put a lime in it!
**** you have to drink it!
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 6:44 PM UTC
Autistically
speaking
I applaud
your intelligence!
flap flap
clap clap
when you
don't think
before
you think
flap flap
clap clap
or open your
*******
******* mouth!
and disparage
and belittle
those with
a learning
disability.
But then maybe
It's you who is
disabled
as you don't
seem able to
distinguish
between what
is right and wrong
what is cruel and kind
flap flap
clap clap
in your ignorance
you are blind
and your
intellectual mind
is a snob
of the worse kind
Looking down
from your high brow
because you
are so clever
I forget
Let's all applaud
and you can remark
(Out of context of course)
that they're all ******* retards
flap flap
clap clap
Well aren't you hard!
You bully when
you say
the dimwits
and the morons,
unloveable,
undateable,
unwanted,
a drain of society
they should all be
put down.
Not somebody
you would choose
to be friends with
or if you did
it would be so you
take advantage of
an idiots good nature
and pure heart!
flap flap
clap clap
Or so you
could look good
in comparison
to them
and maybe it
would knock your
own IQ up
a number or two!
Your average ******
could teach you a
thing about numbers
if you asked them
And you wouldn't want
your own kids
playing
with them
incase they catch it....
Catch what?....
the ability to be
awesome
to think outside
the box
to see feel and
understand
and experience
the world and
people in a
completely
unheard of way.
To smell colours
and taste words,
and your inability
to deviate from
anything other
than your narrow
little mind
really is absurd!
So let's all clap
and flap flap
flap flap flap
and maybe
shriek a bit too!
They are the true
freethinkers
the true misfits
the pure and
the truly blessed
They are
the ones
the people
who are
"different"
"Individual"
as you
would like
to be
flap flap
clap clap
You ignorant ****
Autistically speaking
Who's the ****** now?
©Jacqui Slade
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
today tomorrow everyday of the week i look directly at you but your eyes look the opposite way to each other. I speak to you but all you say is er i'm a ****** i find it funny i laugh you laugh and then i walk away
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 5:44 AM UTC
MY NEICE IS A AN OLD ROCK AND ROLL SINGER OF THE PAST
YOU SEE MY NIECE CAITLIN IS A ROCK SINGER
JUST LIKE MY BROTHER IS
THERE COULD BE PREVIOUS LIVES STORIES HERE
LIKE SHE COULD BE ROY ORBISON OR RICKY MAY
OR SOMEONE BETTER, CAUSE MY NIECE CATLIN
IS SO PERFECT AT SINGERS, IT GOES FURTHER THAN GENES
IF MY MATE PAUL BERENYI DIED IN 1995 LIKE A ****** TOLD ME
HE COULD BE CAITLIN, BUT YOU CAN’T TRUST OTHER PEOPLE
BETTER JUST TRUST THE NEWS
AND NO MATTER WHO CAITLIN WAS IN HER PREVIOUS LIFE
SHE SHOULD ****** CHOOSE, WHAT IS A HER CHARACTER
I AM JUST CRONUS THE POWERFUL GOD
I CAN TELL IF I HAVE THE INTERNET FACTS
I CAN FIND PREVIOUS LIFE PATTERNS
BY, WORKING OUT WHEN PEOPLE DIE
AND HOW MANY YEARS, AND NORMALLY IF THEY YELL
THEY WERE EITHER, KIDNAPPERS, OF OLD HOOLIGANS OF THE PAST
BUT CAITLIN IS A GREAT SINGER, AND SHE HAS SOME PREVIOUS LIFE PATTERN
I KNOW MY BROTHER IS A SINGER TOO, BUT THERE IS MORE THAN THAT I KNOW
LIKE, I WAS ISABELLA OF FRANCE, I WAS THEIR FAMILIES ENTERTAINER
I KNOW SCOTT MCDONALD WANTED TO TEASE ME
SO HE DIED AND BECAME TWO CATS, LUCKY THE CAT WHO WILL TEASE DAD
WHEN IT RAINS, AND MUSCLES WAS TO SAY ONLY ANIMALS DO WHAT I DID BACK THEN
THAT IS WHY THE GUYS TEASED ME
IF PAUL DID DIE, IN 1995, HE COULD BE MY NIECE CAITLIN
BECAUSE NOW I MENTION IT, IT COULD’VE BEEN BEFORE 1995 WHEN I SAW HIM
AT TUGGERANONG WITH ANTHONY COSTA WATCHING BASKETBALL
BUT I KNOW DAD IS IN THE ****** OF LISA CAMPBELL, WITH ROBIN WILLIAMS
WHAT I AM TRYING TO DO, IS BRING MY FAMILY HAPPINESS
CAITLIN COULD BE PAUL BERENYI, OR COULD BE ROY ORBISON
AND NO MATTER WHO SHE IS, SHE IS MY NIECE, AND SUSAN IS MY OTHER NIECE
AND I LOVE THEM BOTH TO BITS
AND NOW, THE RAIN IS COMING CAUSED BY PAUL BERENYI
SAYING NO MATTER WHO I AM, CRONUS SHOULD KEEP IT DOWN
GO TO BED USA, AS THERE IS A BIG SURFING TOURNAMENT IN MERCURY
ORGANISED BY THE TERRORISTS, TO CALM THE HEAT, AND NOT **** THEIR HOOLIGAN
BUT CRONUS TELLS DAD, TO KEEP THEM STRAPPED IN THE SUN
WHERE NO WATER CAN SAVE THEM, THEY’LL SUFFER
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 1:55 AM UTC
742
Four Trees—upon a solitary Acre—
Without Design
Or Order, or Apparent Action—
Maintain—
The Sun—upon a Morning meets them—
The Wind—
No nearer Neighbor—have they—
But God—
The Acre gives them—Place—
They—Him—Attention of Passer by—
Of Shadow, or of Squirrel, haply—
Or Boy—
What Deed is Theirs unto the General Nature—
What Plan
They severally—retard—or further—
Unknown—
2.8k
ya know what i hate, classical music, it’s so scary, it’s so cocky
when you have had problems with the police in the past
i feel that there will be people like paul robinson
treating me like steph, ya see, we all have our reasons for doing bad stuff
and if anyone got in their classical music prison cars taking me to hospital
i will be like steph and tell them to **** OFF because
what paul did to steph was terrible and the fact that he had classical music on
in his car, makes him like a big rich *****
ya see, heavy metal is a better way of getting stuff out
and being noisy, but people can’t except i have grown up
i went down to talk and be friendly to canberra
but they told me, you can’t expect us to like you buddy
ya see while i am watching this i am listening to slayer, a very cool band
because i hate classical music, i like christmas music, but i hate classical music
i like heavy metal music, i hate classical music
you see if i am in a car with somebody who likes classical music
i feel trapped because i am a headbanger
not a rocker, like a ****** i am a headbanger and i like how
heavy metal lovers like christmas carols
if you treat me like steph, i will find out you get what paul got
i am so devious and cunning
but i hate classical music, i like rock music i like party music
i like christmas music, please don’t get me into anymore cars
who play classical music, i can’t get into it, duuuuude
please fire the guy who plays classical music in a car with me in it
classical music is scary if you have had problems in the past
heavy metal isn’t death music, classical music is death music
i am going to get a knife and **** classical music forever
but not literally ya know
anyone that wants to bring what paul did to steph or any other violence into the world
should think about what they are doing
party beats the classics, any day
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
The grown-ups have lied
Your pillow fort can't save you
because the Boogeyman is real
No use jumping under the covers and counting to ten
as you wait for the hand to rise up and pull you under the bed
The bed is no longer a raft adrift at sea
There is no current
There is no rescue party
Just me
And I'm here to tell you that the grown-ups have lied
They'll tell you
"Sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you"
but they won't tell you that the Boogeyman is real
He'll come to your room with words
"Nothing" and
****** and
****** and
******
sharpened like arrows in his quiver
He'll stretch the bow of upper and lower lip
and take aim at your Achilles Heel
because he knows how your mother held you as she baptized you in hope
**** doesn't bruise your arm
or push you down the stairs
or tangle its fingers in your scalp and yank your hair
but it'll slump your shoulders
make a mumble out of your laughter
"Freak" never gave anyone a black eye
but it's hung bodies from the rafters
The grown-ups don't want you to know that the Boogeyman is real
because they're the ones who invented the weapons he wields
They don't want you to know that you're defenseless
if all you've got is a cold-shoulder shield
They don't want to have to tell you that you might have to yield
to a monster they created
You are both so much like me
I can't watch them feed you half-truths and sit here passively
You deserve to know what it is that will haunt you
What it is that haunts me
My bed is not safe either
I still check my closets for words I have suppressed
The grown-ups check theirs too but they're protecting you
They just hide it best
See, you and I
We bleed crayola
because we haven't forgotten what it's like to be a kid
We remember popsicles in summertime
and all the naughty things we did
We remember how to cheat at hide-and-seek
and all the corners in which we hid
I know
that there will be days when the Boogeyman will call you
Nothing
Just remind him that
Nothing is Something
that Something could be Anything
and therefore
you are important.
Smile in his face
and pretend you cannot hear, cannot understand, cannot be hurt
When the arrows take to the air
walk so far away and don't stop until your toes are dangling over the edge of the ocean
and all that lies beneath you is a tunnel of stars
When he finds your Achilles Heel,
tell someone
No use dying in battle
Forgive the grown-ups, for they know not their mistakes
Show them how to handle it
Sleep with the light on
Check your closet
Be prepared
He will come
but if you know your enemy
there's no way you can lose
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 10:01 AM UTC
/ *because such examples have to, have to(!) be perpetuated, reiterated, perpetuated, reiterated... these... "things"... these minor quests of establishing being - against, the authoritarian rule of the democracy of beings.*
you don't shout,
you don't disturb the "social", "peace",
of proverbial english society...
nope...
shouting does not good,
akin to:
silent water eats
away at the shorelines...
what you do...
is akin to what birds do...
you don't gnash your teeth:
i.e. clench them molars...
gnashing means clenching
your molars -
a gnashing a gnarling,
a pestle & mortar scenario...
no...
no shouting...
silent movie era of hollywood
translated...
you... simply... chatter...
you strike incissor teeth against
each other... crafting a lightling storm
like crackling sound,
like corn flakes...
in a bowl of milk...
you... chatter...
inspiration? birds...
bird calls...
you... chatter...
mind you, unlike the english,
looking into my mouth...
the jaw should fit within the confines
of the skull...
the upper set of teeth
should accommodate the jaw's
line of teeth...
but you simply... chatter...
which is embodied by attempting
to take a phantom bite at "something"...
you...
echo:
central incisors against
the lateral incisors...
you subsequently: chatter (χατερ)...
i missed the eta (η): given that i also
missed the excess of tau - in what isn't,
a translation - other than a phonetic
equivalent of putting on sunglasses...
because, when your neighbour,
tells you... that you can't smoke...
in your own home, perched on a windowsill,
out of the window,
implying that the smoke is
vacuumed into his bedroom?
and somehow, the law,
and the air, we share, is somehow his,
and his alone?
and i can't do, what he can,
within the confines of his property?
NOW WE HAVE A PROPER SHITSHOW!
some english are ******* backward
hardly insulting the ****** community,
with some succumbing to prosopagnosia,
while some (notably down syndrome)
actually having a memory capacity...
that curious look and a familiar expression
waiting for a smile...
i basically live next to a mental illness
example, par uno...
and englishman who "thinks"
he's king, rather than a convenient
citizen...
****** won't budge...
guess all i'm equipped with is
my chatter remedy;
and english society still "thinks"
that i'm the "mad" one.
- because it's like...
how can you dictate, what someone can,
or cannot do, on their property?!
like smoking a cigarette,
perched on a windowsill, outside a window,
with the accusation:
the smoke is coming into my bedroom...
oh right...
so...
erm...
you own the dynamic of air
to suggest such a bias?
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 11:30 AM UTC