I'm feeling
Bitter.
And all this stupid
Pretentious hippy
"Spirituality"
****
Is just getting old
Or maybe I'm just getting
Older
And I'm seeing how all these
Burnouts in tie-dye
Appear friendly
But they're not talking to you,
Just your girlfriend.

"Free love, man."

They're scumbags just like the
Scumbags in suits they hate so much
Or the rocker scumbags who are
Mysoginistic
Just like them.

This
Self-brainwashing
Is getting old and I'm getting sick of
Being lied to,
By them and by me.

the truth is nobody knows
What's going on in the universe,
No matter how much of a
Shaman
They claim to be or how much
Peyote
They smoke.
And anybody who claims to
Is
Selling
Something-
Be it glassware pendants
Or ****
Or their throbbing
*****.

This hippy ******* is a bastardization
Of an image
Of a faded picture
Of a set of ideals
Thought up fifty years ago
That only ever really worked on paper
Anyway.

And I always find, yeah, I always find something wrong
You been putting up with my **** just way too long
I'm so gifted at finding what I don't like the most
So I think it's time for us to have a toast
Let's have a toast for the *******
Let's have a toast for the *******
Let's have a toast for the scumbags
Every one of them that I know
Let's have a toast for the ****-offs
That'll never take work off
Baby, I got a plan
Run away fast as you can

[Verse 1: Kanye West]
She find pictures in my e-mail
I sent this ***** a picture of my ****
I don't know what it is with females
But I'm not too good with that ****
See, I could have me a good girl
And still be addicted to them hoodrats
And I just blame everything on you
At least you know that's what I'm good at

[Hook]

[Bridge]
Run away from me, baby, run away
Run away from me, baby, run away
It's about to get crazy, why can't she just, run away?
Baby, I got a plan, run away fast as you can

[Verse 2 - Pusha T]
24/7, 365, ***** stays on my mind
I-I-I-I did it, all right, all right, I admit it
Now pick your next move, you could leave or live wit' it
Ichabod Crane with that ******* top off
Split and go where? Back to wearing knockoffs, haha
Knock it off, Neiman's, shop it off
Let's talk over mai tais, waitress, top it off
Hoes like vultures, wanna fly in your Freddy loafers
You can't blame 'em, they ain't never seen Versace sofas
Every bag, every blouse, every bracelet
Comes with a price tag, baby, face it
You should leave if you can't accept the basics
Plenty hoes in the balla-***** matrix
Invisibly set, the Rolex is faceless
I'm just young, rich, and tasteless
P!

[Verse 3: Kanye West]
Never was much of a romantic
I could never take the intimacy
And I know I did damage
Cause the look in your eyes is killing me
I guess you are at an advantage
Cause you can blame me for everything
And I don't know how I'mma manage
If one day you just up and leave

Back at Donnie's place
this chick had shown me her ****.
Her brother was some guy we ran with.
She had just gotten her ******* pierced
and wanted to know what I thought.
She was a thick girl
with blonde hair
and big chubby ****.
Later
we were at a bar
one of our friends was the DJ
and another was the doorman
so all of us 18 year-old scumbags
were able to drink without too much hassle.
The night started the same way it always did
the first song of the night was always the same
'Symphony of Destruction' by Megadeth
our whole crew sitting in the corner booths
out of the light & in the dark.
We were the dimmer of lights
The party crashers
The woman stealers
The Black Circle.
We downed shot after shot
of this green **** they had
called 'Zombie'.
Drunk off my ***
feeling warm & fuzzy
I went outside for a smoke.
Matt W. ***** lay next to me on the concrete patio
in the back alley of the bar.
I had barely lit the cigarette
when the thick girl with
the big pierced ******* came out back.
We made ******* conversation
for about a minute
before I asked to see her **** again.
She carefully pulled them out
wincing at how sore they still were.
We started making out
and she asked me if I wanted to go somewhere.
I motioned towards the darkened alley behind us.
Matt lay on the ground
Laughing to himself and staring at the night sky
Taking long drags from his cigarette.
In the dark behind some cardboard boxes
And empty liquor crates
She kissed me hard and messy
Both of us reeking of ***** and cigarettes
That stinky combination.
“Why don’t you let those get some air?”
I asked, pointing at her massive mammaries.
“Okay, but…be gentle okay? They’re still really sore.”
“You got it darlin’.”
And out they came, hanging like gods in the sky
I was down on my knees
With my head under her skirt
Just going to town on this thick chick
Like I hadn’t eaten for weeks.
Her hands gripping my greasy hair
And pulling hard
As I got faster and faster
Licking and ******* like my life depended on it
Reaching up and squeezing those *******
As gently as I possibly could.
And then she tensed up
Her knees shaking, trembling, and finally
Buckling as she came
Still holding me by the hair
She pulled me back and out from under that little red skirt.
“Oh my god. Just give me a second.”
She asked, trying to catch her breath
And stop her legs from shaking.
I stood up and gave her a ***** flavored kiss.
“Well?” I asked.
“I’ll go down on you…..if that’s what you want…”
“Of course.”
And she got down on her knees
In that dark alley.
“Ouch.” She squeeled.
“What is it?”
“The ground’s got a bunch of rocks or some ****. ****.”
“Here…” I grabbed one of the cardboard boxes
broke it down in a matter of seconds
and laid it on the ground
at my feet.
“There ya go.”
Before she put it in her mouth
She laughed.
“You’re such a gentleman.”
“I have my moments.”
Afterwards
I walked back over to Matt on the patio
Buckling up my pants.
The lady thanked me
Said it was nice meeting me
And walked back inside to her brother and friends.
Donnie was now sitting with Matt on the curb.
“Where the **** did you go?”
I just started laughing.
It took him a second, but Donnie figured it out.
“Did you just **** that fat chick?”
“No man. I just got a *******. That’s all.”
“What the **** Danny? What are you a male ******* or something?”
I just kept laughing
“Hey ******* man. Nobody gives a ******* like a fat chick.”
Matt rolled over and spoke up,
“The man has a point Donnie.”

The doctrine lines,
The white brick walls,
Coffee creeps,
We still drink,
Our tastes have just changed,
Who took the last of the ******* sugar?
It's been empty for weeks,
But mainstays stay, mainly,
Another 24 hours,
Some look less,
Another victim of violence visitation,
Rattling sign, the wind makes it's appearance,
We made it,
Johnboy the ****** tells aboot,
His momentum,
Taking his mom oot to dinner,
He wore his tattoos on his face,
One cheek said sin, the other, ner,
Shakey Sam comes every meow and then,
Saying nothing has changed again,
Lights are flickering,
While Jesus Jane is on another rant,
You know, aboot Jesus and whatnot,
Atheist Jocoby just groans,
The coffee is a bit burnt,
So is my tongue,
New cats, alley cats,
Dogs and birds,
I couldn't tell you which one I am,
Emergency alarms a buzzing all around,
We just turn down the sound,
As it's another go round,
to speak,
I'm James and I'm an alcoholic,
Hi James,
Turn over turn on,
Hold hands with scumbags turned saints,
All because of the fire we got from a drink,
A smoke,
A burnt down life turned to building,
We hug once again,
And step ootside,
Open door policy,
And fire in the sky is there waiting,
Some run,
Some cry,
Shakey Sam wonders aloud,
Will his dealer deliver,
****** Johnboy calls his mom,
Jesus Jane prays,
And Atheist Jocoby drives away,
I put the sign back on the door,
And make a new ***,
I want to hear that story,
Of how that newcomer once got shot,
By a disgruntled **** in San Francisco bay,
At least I don't need a drink today.

They’re foreclosing on our homes left and right
Violent gangs roam the streets to find a fight
On the corner scumbags sell the young *******
That’s the bitter news the tabloids will proclaim

But some people volunteer at nursing homes
Some give to charity their whole life long
Some others give asylum for the homeless in the rain
But that’s not headline news as the media plays the game

I believe in tomorrow thru it all
God makes a lot more sunbeams
Than he makes raindrops fall
At Golgatha Hill He showed a love
No darkness can undo
He's always justified my faith                                                            ­                    
And believing like I do

So don’t give up when tabloids show the worst
Or when cable likes to find some hell on earth
For God’s a God of endless love; His rainbows stop the rain
And He would never make a world in vain

CHORUS

Bridge:
The tide comes in, the tide goes out
But goodness will prevail
Just follow in His footsteps
And you'll be right on the trail

CHORUS

Benedictine Warlords
Hold ceremonies in ballrooms
Tie knots in dying children’s hair
Demarking havoc to succumb
Red X-es on trees
Placating these
Monsters
These scumbags
These treasons
Against a muck they scoured
A much maligned superfluity
Of words, of thoughts
Of feelings
Of devotion
Sympathy
What of it?
You’ve heard my ideas on living
You’ve killed my attempts
Superavero
Veni
Superavero
Now go, before you learn what life is

how do you like that,
alchemist?
you turned lead into gold
but it’s not that shiny
is it?
maybe your flask was
rose-tinted
things didn’t go as expected
did they?
you could’ve been happy
if you never knew
at the end of the journey lies
absolutely nothing
how do you like that,
lover-boy?
you won her heart
you’re her one and only
but how do you like
the public sarcasm?
the beratement at home?
what about the “love-taps”?
“you just can’t do anything
right”
that’s the dialogue
right?
we call that abuse
you got what you wanted
but you didn’t really know her
did you?
how do you like that,
young man?
you learned the ways of world
how the real predators
and boogeymen
are just people
just like you and me
you’re safe now
with that truth
but do you feel that?
you lost something
didn’t you?
you feel empty inside
but before you rant about
darwinist suits
corporate scumbags
******* shockjocks
just remember kiddo
you did this to yourself
they didn’t take it
you gave it up
the innocence of a child
you got to the age when
your eyes show you
the truth you need
not the lies you want
but look at you now
maybe you really need the lies
sure they might
hurt you
chide you
scorn you
tell you you’ll never make it
but at least you wouldn’t be so blue
and the world wouldn’t be so blue
the truth
the real truth is
you’ve got to see the roses in front of you
but remember the thorns just beyond
sometimes you’ll get lucky
and miss the thorn
but not every time
so don’t let your hopes fly too high
but if your fear holds you
that rose will stay a distant dream
so why not just go for it
with a smile on your face
and just see what happens?

dear little me,
you’re taught that if a boy is mean to you, he likes you. you watch all these movies and read all these books about jerks and scumbags who fall for good girls and subsequently ‘act right’ for them, and only them. you think this will happen to you. please don’t date the ‘bad’ boys.

no, the boy of your dreams is a suburban drummer with hair the color of the earth, and the kind of laugh that makes you smile, even if you’re trying as hard as you can to be mad at him (which you never really are).

you listen to him. everything he has to say, you listen. even if you heard it all before, you listen, because nothing makes you happier than the sound of his voice when he’s talking about something that interests him, or how his day went, or something that made him laugh. and he listens to you. everything you say, no matter how dumb it is, or how much you stumble over your words, or ramble on about things that aren’t very interesting, he listens, and he doesn’t think you’re stupid, and he doesn’t think you’re annoying, and he never ignores you. ever.

he introduces you to his parents on valentine’s day, and doesn’t make you feel like you owe him anything. he buys you that bear you hinted at wanting the week before, which you end up sleeping with every night, and aren’t even ashamed to admit.

he naps with you, which you’ve always dreamed of doing with a boyfriend, because, let’s face it: you’re boring, and you sleep more than a sloth. he’s a heavy sleeper, which makes you laugh, and you poke him or rest your head on his chest or whisper things to or about him while he sleeps because he won’t know about it anyway.

he gets you out of the house. even though all you ever want to do is lie in bed and sleep, or watch netflix and drive yourself insane from isolating yourself so much, he gets you out of the house. he gets you interested in things you convinced yourself a long time ago not to try. he shows you things you never had the energy to look for.

sometimes, you’ll find yourself scared, because your anxiety woke you up and told you that he doesn’t like you anymore, or that you’re annoying him, or that he’s leaving, and you ask him, almost every day, ‘do you still like me’, and he never seems bothered by this, even though you swear he is, and he always says ‘yes’, and you always smile and you'll find life a little less heavy.

even if, for one reason or another, the two of you don’t last forever, know that this is one of the happiest times of your life, and that you were okay, which is all the two of us ever wanted. you’ll still date those boys who hurt your feelings and make you feel small.

you and i both know that you can’t resist the temptation to see if the books and movies are true, though, and you’ll end up sad. you’ll ***** up. you’ll mistreat the people who care about you, and you’ll hate yourself, for a little while, but, the boy of your dreams will be there. he always was. that’s the boy you give your time and attention to; that’s the boy you choose: the boy who saw you at your lowest, and still chose you.

sincerely,
bigger you

Cat videos, hate speech, and ****
is what the internet adorns
Show me motion picture ****
and racist scumbags throwing fits
Entertain me to no end
make me feel like filth again
Oh, I love you internet
your hearts inept
but I'm still wet

Turn on the television to see families in war
All this fighting turning into a bore
What you see is a backdrop, the setup, a show
These producers are scumbags at the bottom below.
Relationships and scandals to match your delight
You really want to know what they did last night?
All of this is to fill up that useful time
Useful, I guess, but this exposure is a crime.
Do you really even care how her dress looked that night?
Is it a big surprise that he got in a fight?
Does it matter in the end that he's sold a million records?
Is that little fact really true, or just something you heard?
We're all entertainment, all actors in a way
Your life is now open and you're on display
You've entered the business, you've gotten the part
As of this moment, you're at the bottom of the charts.
But don't you lose hope, you'll get up there somehow
They'll take your normalcy and amp it tenfold for now
You're the face in the crowd until you make your name
And secretly we all want those fifteen minutes of fame.
It takes a while to get there, a strenuous time,
The prize at the top might not be worth the climb
But, hey that's your choice- it's your faults that they want
So make your blemishes pretty- get out there and flaunt.
Give them your smile, your secrets, your lovers
You can hide all you want but it's too easy to discover
The media is waiting, darling, go say something witty
Be charming, don't forget, they love something pretty.

I don't want to go
To any job

I don't need any more
Friends

I want to go Afghanistan
And **** the Taliban

I just can't get anything
The woman
Or the money

And I've been sentenced
To a life
On this planet

And people can
Just *******!

Now I'm in Afghanistan
With a heart full of hate

I have hate for the Taliban!
The Afghan people
Just want to make a living
And survive

And the Taliban goes around
Killing everyone
That's really ****** up

Well I'm a rogue ******
Left alone like I always was

But now I'm alone in
The war zone
I've got my fifty caliber

And I put the scope
On that Taliban leader

Boom!
A shot rings out
Across the land

I'm the judge now
You *******!
Blew his ******* brains out

All Taliban
Will die

I'm sending dozens
Of Taliban leaders
Floating down the river

That won't go to see Allah
But they'll burn in hell
Let them burn!
No respect for human life
Murderers
Killing children and women!

I'm here to wipe them off
The face of the earth

And If I get in real close
And fight one without
Any weapons
Just strangle him
To death

Death to the Taliban!

Long live Ahmed Massoud!
Long live the men
From the Panshir valley
Who fought with Massoud!

I'm content to **** with a rifle
But even happier
When I get my hands
On one of those scumbags

Strangle him to death
Die!!!
I'll choke the life out of
That *******
Taliban

All Taliban must die!
This is for the children
For the women you murdered

I manned a 50 caliber
Machine gun
They were all in there camp

Like a ******* Rambo movie
I blew everyone's brains out
Dieeeeeeee!!!!!!
Death to the Taliban

Shrieks and screams
Arms and legs flying everywhere

This is judgement!
You deserve to die
You child murderers

Those who do not respect life
Will die!
Death to the Taliban

I made this curse many lifetimes ago,
while in my cave in the high Himalayas,
when watching humanity, like ants scurrying around in the dust,
I saw clearly the insane and evil mess
that all religions and all political systems
would drag humanity into eventually.
It could only be done with the unquestioning
cooperation of the masses.
The curse is working its way to fulfilment
as I write--nation fighting nation-- priests of all "religions"
blessing their countries paid murderers,
urging ,indeed,ordering men and women
to go out and wage war in their "gods" or "goddesses" name..
Insane evil people hating strangers, tellers of lies
are pouring their depraved energies into attempting to ****
as many people as they can.
And liberal poetical democrats who are usually
either monarchist right wing oligarchy slaves or
dictatorial left wing socialist  oligarchy slaves  are
wallowing in generational hatred by supporting
this filth on the sole of humanities shoe.
reiterating lies as truth and calling for people to slaughter while
"liberal"politicians speak dishonestly about freedom and justice for the
supporters of this religious and political hatred.
United Nations?.
Gimme a break!.

The people must lie down and offer their throats to these liberal scumbags knives.
While human shields are used to **** innocents live on TV
for the ongoing campaign of lies and deceit.
Tahiyaa.
A curse on all your houses.

About a year ago, before the candidates were in the running.  The headlines read "Hillary defeats Satan."  I , at the time, could not understand this.  "How could this be?"  I questioned myself.  After all, wasn't she the one that handed over the POTUS position to a muslim/socialist?  And wasn't she caught with a truckload of articles that belonged to the United States when she moved out of the White House?  Yet, some women groups still believe she is the right person to steal the office.  (Remember Dickandbush, no one voted for them either. Remember?  REMEMBER?)  The Presidency is not a position that is voted by the people anymore and hasn't been decided by the public in a long, long time.  As a matter of fact, the whole election process is merely a choreographed dance or ******* if you will.

  Now to the matter of topic.  How she does it.  First she gets a crazy old man who preaches socialism is the answer to be her opponent.  Is any one in their right mind going to believe that socialism belongs anywhere on THIS PLANET!  Listen friend, if it didn't work for the Russians and the USSR then how in the hell do you think it would work here.  Some one PLEASE purchase a one-way ticket to China for Bernie boy or maybe send him to Mars.  Maybe it could work there. Okay?  She has the Democratic ticket.  In like Flint.

  Now the other side,  the Republicans had so many choices and only one of them had the nads to challenge the SUPER-PACS.   (You remember those nice scumbags that pay politicians so much money to destroy the country that they (the politicians) just have to take it.  Let's see, there once at the time was about eighteen of them.  And not one of them could match the evil wits of Satan.  I really believed at one time that he DID have a chance to beat thunder-thighs.  Then he did this.  First he stated that he was good friends with Hillary and has known her for a very long time.  Then, he did the unthinkable.  He hired the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man to tag along with him.  You remember him.  Don't you?  The guy who not only single-handedly bankrupted an entire city.  But, also gave the State of New Jersey a $384 BILLION deficit.  Great choice Donald.  Why don't you just meet Hillary in a motel for three days and you can be the next leader in about eight years or so.

  The other Republican hopefuls were 1.  Pretty Boy (he could get the eighteen year old vote but, that's about all.)  2.  *****-Nilly (just not leadership material.)  3.  BUSH? 4.  Some guy whose name sounds like a ****** disease.  5.  The Penguin, or as he put it Dracula. And other fiends of Hillary.

Sorry Folks,

The fix was in from the get go.
It's in the bag.

Let's just hope that thunder-thighs doesn't squeeze us too hard.


Oh, just one last thing.  If we limit terms in the Senate, Congress, and most importantly Supreme Court.  Then, and only then will we have an uncorrupted government.  You can thank me later.

A Poet

Please don't pity me because I am single
I enjoy life, get out, play hard and mingle
Soul mates will meet when the timing is right
For now, I'll do me so the future looks bright.

Being alone is not making me pensive
It's opened my eyes something extensive
I'd rather see love than have it myself
Seeing you thrive is good for my health.

I see all your posts of how happy they make you
Of bad and good and of all you have been through
Of how they are faithful and loyal to the end
Of being being a lover and also a friend.

Being single has not brought me sadness
I'm seeing love thrive in a world filled with madness.
To me that is beautiful and that's that all I need
As long as love lives, my sorrow is freed.

What does bring me sorrow are all these **** cheaters.
These liars, scumbags, and f** spouse beaters.
It's ignorant, and no it is not the human condition
It's going on too much and needs decommission.

To all the boys sending ladies pics of your ****
If you're trying to get any, that's going about it all wrong.
Sure some are into it but, they'll say if it's true
That's not how men act, what's the matter with you?

Spreading love is my purpose, I can't let it die
My heart beats as long as true love is alive
You can call me a wimp, or call me a hippie
I really don't care, so don't get all lippy.

This is for everyone who is in love or inquiring
Your love is amazing and I find it inspiring.
Let's get rid of the habits that have diluted it's beauty
Love is resplendent, and to protect it's our duty.

Please don't think I get sad when I see you're in love
Wishing for someone is not what I think of
True love persists, and for that I am grateful
Please keep love alive and away from the hateful.

Some call it all fake or just a chemical reaction
But what brought it on? It's not just from attraction.
Monogamy's not necessary to survival of species
It helps with procreation but, it's also our Achilles.

Our minds evolved love because we aren't human without it.
It's from the soul, if you never felt it don't try to doubt it.
Don't hate on love, it has the best of intentions
It just wants to grow and spread it's affections.

And for now I'll do me so the future looks bright
I'll find my true love when the timing is right.
Keep this in mind as we mix and we mingle
Please don't pity me because I am single.

The only friends I have
Are scumbags like me
But I didn't say I owned them
Haven't possessed much except a birth
So I'll smoke like a chimney
Till my lungs are black
And I'll drink like barfly
Till I'm the tar I'm steppin' in
Over-nourished, under-grown
We all yearn to stay high
But secretly we love the lows
Scratch my back
I'll stab you in yours
And a man said he liked my evil ways
Double-dared me to match him up
But I ain't proud of who I am
And now there're shards in his skull
Keep your eyes closed
Like you're staring at the sun
I'll continue to bathe in holy water with
Burned retinas

A revolver is my favourite choice of gun. it is also daddies favourite. he likes it because it has a revolving chamber which means you don’t have to reload as much .

Clint Eastwood is daddy’s hero, Clint Eastwood usually plays cowboys or cops .daddy hates the cops, the cops hate daddy they are always coming to our house looking for daddy. But sometimes they never find him because he hides beneath the house sometimes .

mom always screams at the cops, she calls them pigs and very bad names which I’m not suppose to say. daddies friends also come to our house ,they drink beer and play poker,

they swear and shout at mommy. mommy calls them good for nuthin scumbags. daddy and his friends like to talk about a man who started world war 2, his name is Adolf, he lives in Germany.

daddy and his friends wish he won the war .my favorite thing is to go to my room and hide beneath my covers and wish I was some where else .

I hate my mommy and daddy they always beat each other sometimes they beat me and tell me to go to bed without any supper this happens a lot I wish I had a new family.

it's just that, you have a fine evening drinking
beer, watching cats and foxes,
and the frenzy of foxes on a monday night,
and these bin-bags,
  scattered once finely bound...
      it only begins with an aphorism,
and states: you ought to throw stone...
       thaat it would be safe enough to do such a thing...
you want to throw it, you're actually one
of the "herd",
  and how it will all make sense,
if you do throw the stone...
and join the riots...
     it would make sense,
it would actually make a lot of sense,
but, frankly, it doesn't...
             father crux, mind my son dangling
son... lo! behold! we're in business...
   how god chose the tribe of jews
and how jesus made judaism pop,
and how pop-judaism paid back a status of
pop culture, created a pop culture,
and was like huh? donning sunglasses...
and how it ended jn ash... and enforced cremation...
and Auschwitz holidays...
  yeah, sure, i'm the sick one...
who hold account of holocaust deniers
when i live in the 21st century with
existential deniers, that cat food tinned
speaks more to your, ******* *******?!
you want to vox? i'll vox... i'll ******* vox
the **** out of you,
i'll give you plums for eyes and human
rights for children you'll never, ever, have!
isn't that what we do, pretend to
eavesdrop on people?
pretend they don't exist, and if they do
they are involved in ghost media of fictions
and writing books for profit?
i just read heidegger's aphorism no. 195
and i just, think, of throwig stones...
  gladness be, a memory, that i share
with nobody...
   it's easier to abuse drinking...
i'm waiting for the blood skull and bits
to make testament...
   i think that if you get struck my lightning and die...
you won the lottery...
aphorism 195 is all about the will,
throwing, or scalping,
     something that is into: which is:
that conjunction word muddle,
beginning with that, and supposedly ending
with ergo...
           what moses felt,
and if ever: held account to have a heart...
just about as apathetic in tone
as an english-woman can be...
                 i heard prostitutes talk sweeter
things in my life...
      prostitutes... bulgar women,
ukranian women...
            british women talked the talk,
walked the walk...
   and then it was all or nothing...
that i am, a boor predicting a reality...
              but i can't help giving grace
to numbers, that they somehow have to be
coerced...
  of man, thus said, to complicate
the matters further...
   aphorism 195 is nothing but the modern
case of otherwise not throwing stones
at authority... a fortiori through Christianity...
i just look at it and see:
a bunch of kids throwing stones,
how's that going to work,
where's a justification of an "argument"?
it's that demand for Greece,
ancient, and so boringly quasi-kleptomaniac
in keeping it, and the yellow-brick road...
i already said a-, before saying
a priori; i meant to say: a-h (hence the hyphen
and a subsequent loss of ha),
so a beginning without a beginning...
like i will also state with a fortiori...
and i will also say: from a strength to a weakness...
or some would say: as foretold...
   it seems the strong are weaker than the weak...
just like the original case of aristocracy,
you need healthy people to rummage,
to make things work, and you need
a sickness at the top,
you always will provide the sick to rule the strong,
that's how humanity works, the sick rule
the strong... because the sick can
and the strong are ladden with a guilty plea of
stating empathy... it's just plain sad,
since they didn't encourage us waiting in line
to meet the guillotine... so who's who's Stockholm
syndrome bargain? the times i met death,
i'm surprised i didn't write a harry potter novel!
it's breaking my heart, and its almost numbing
my *****... i will recover having read
heidegger's aphorism 195 from ponderings ii - vi...
but it will take a while...
   it's going to be as hard as an actual
break-up... but i'll manage...
   real break-ups attract too many
bothersome gnats, known as fiction writers
and i don't won't these...
those ugly ******* can disperse and earn their money
and never return; or in Hindustan
as parasites, their worthy form to be repeated
and immersed in; guess what?
my **** is tickling, how about you **** it?
******.
and yes, punctuation is a different sort of
arithmetic... it's scenery, it's danish,
it's not custard thought, more of a mood setting,
but then again, the english,
bankers of the world; they don't really get
not needing to sell a twig,
when they can't appreciate a carpenter's effort
in having made a front-door...
   pragmatism doesn't really leave you
all sparkles like it's new year's eve... does it?
  neither does 1 + 1 = 2,
  or                 wait... nope, it isn't you.
language per se is no basis for being equipped with
a dichotomy to mathematics...
      rhetoric or rubric, it doesn't matter,
you spend so much time, complicating
the mathematical pucntuation marks,
that you leave actual punctuation marks to ducks,
that gobble them, as niave as they are,
glutton on mushy-pond-soaked-bread
as you do reminding us that politics is real...
    + is as complex as a comma...
                 hyphen is more than mere minus...
it's apparently called acting...
but you know, being a "poet" you sort of realise
you're not giving "adequate" prompt...
if ever, that's what the 20th century existentialists
did, they tried to reinvent punctuation,
to give punctuation the status of arithmetic...
after all... **** acting on stage gets a cabbage thrown
at it, yes? the times when theatre was no merely
and solely applause, when people threw rotten
fruit and veg and those emotional scumbags with
the audacity to fake it.

My blood is not red anymore
It is not even rufous
It is achromatic
I’ve seen it go to a watery grave
with moonshine

It drowned
for a foolish fluid  
one so dimwitted
it forgot the word “No”
could be spoken
to bring their negligent ears
into *******

(And not me)

My blood rushed out
In it’s gloom
I wanted to emulate it
and exit my body
just as they entered

What a theft
What a “five-finger discount”
Literally

It was a perfect portrait
A gun kissing the crown of my head
and my indifference
towards the money in the cash register
that I called my soul-case
If I’d even had any left

My lips moldered shut
They don’t like parting anymore
Two buds charred sorely
as a pen
that speaks only in black ink


I searched every crevice of that washroom
for a noose
I found my reflection
and thought that close enough

So there I hovered
hung up on my mirror image
suspended by two claws
honed with dejection

My eyes slammed taut  
My pulse ******* bones in my face
and gnawing itself
with prowling fluorescents

I grazed the scuffs on my thighs
I hadn’t put there
for once

Then I remembered the nausea  
snarled up in their cheeks
Their words like spiders
I don’t know where they’ve gone
and I don’t want to

“Is it that time of the month?’
said the shorter, more truculent boy
and he sniggered

I stood submerged
in hard edged a laugh
that liked to wrench my ears
and make rounds
on nights hot and heavy
with languor

and perhaps,
had I not been so small
or weak of muscle
had I worn a different dress
or forgotten to coat my lashes
had I sipped on tea
instead of *****
I could’ve flagrantly pushed them away
Darted not with my eyes,
but my legs
I could’ve screamed “Get off me you scumbags!”
until my throat shriveled up
into a dried cranberry

But I didn’t

Instead I’m screaming
on a piece of paper

Because the worst that happens here
is a paper cut.

Remember this one?

About a year ago, before the candidates were in the running. The headlines read "Hillary defeats Satan." I , at the time, could not understand this. "How could this be?" I questioned myself. After all, wasn't she the one that handed over the POTUS position to a muslim/socialist? And wasn't she caught with a truckload of articles that belonged to the United States when she moved out of the White House? Yet, some women groups still believe she is the right person to steal the office. (Remember Dickandbush, no one voted for them either. Remember? REMEMBER?) The Presidency is not a position that is voted by the people anymore and hasn't been decided by the public in a long, long time. As a matter of fact, the whole election process is merely a choreographed dance or ******* if you will.

Now to the matter of topic. How she does it. First she gets a crazy old man who preaches socialism is the answer to be her opponent. Is any one in their right mind going to believe that socialism belongs anywhere on THIS PLANET! Listen friend, if it didn't work for the Russians and the USSR then how in the hell do you think it would work here. Some one PLEASE purchase a one-way ticket to China for Bernie boy or maybe send him to Mars. Maybe it could work there. Okay? She has the Democratic ticket. In like Flint.

Now the other side, the Republicans had so many choices and only one of them had the nads to challenge the SUPER-PACS. (You remember those nice scumbags that pay politicians so much money to destroy the country that they (the politicians) just have to take it. Let's see, there once at the time was about eighteen of them. And not one of them could match the evil wits of Satan. I really believed at one time that he DID have a chance to beat thunder-thighs. Then he did this. First he stated that he was good friends with Hillary and has known her for a very long time. Then, he did the unthinkable. He hired the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man to tag along with him. You remember him. Don't you? The guy who not only single-handedly bankrupted an entire city. But, also gave the State of New Jersey a $384 BILLION deficit. Great choice Donald. Why don't you just meet Hillary in a motel for three days and you can be the next leader in about eight years or so.

The other Republican hopefuls were 1. Pretty Boy (he could get the eighteen year old vote but, that's about all.) 2. *****-Nilly (just not leadership material.) 3. BUSH? 4. Some guy whose name sounds like a ****** disease. 5. The Penguin, or as he put it Dracula. And other fiends of Hillary.

Sorry Folks,

The fix was in from the get go.
It's in the bag.

Let's just hope that thunder-thighs doesn't squeeze us too hard.


Oh, just one last thing. If we limit terms in the Senate, Congress, and most importantly Supreme Court. Then, and only then will we have an uncorrupted government. You can thank me later.

A Poet

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its been

about two months

since i cut my heart,
since i summoned my mind

since i kneeled before thee,
and bled my heart out for you
as if you were some sort of oppressive ******* god

in which i kept my thoughts so dear
as i was forced to read your virtues,
before i was playing your little games

its been so long, my child
since i held dear to your scriptures,
since i curled you up against me
as i whispered my sins to pass unto you

i have been subjected to secrets,
to new lies,
to the unfamiliar,
to those in which i hate

scumbags, all of them
sometimes im unsure whether or not i should reflect
and take down them
or myself

im a wretched being
and so are you, pig ****

not really,
i couldnt **** for my life


it's been while since i posted on here
hello - poetry

Drinking you away is the most effective
and painful
way I can find.
The liqueur
that's supposed to make my lips loose
only looses lips on me.
I ******* hate myself.
Since when?
Since I can remember.
Since I passed past
that last bastion of childhood innocence.
And  then introspection
and truth set in
and I really looked at myself
and examined my skills
and my attributes
and I found my self disgusted.
She says she thinks I'll find a perfect someone, someday.
Some say.
Something.
Similar.
Everyday.
Every ******* time.
I've tried harder to be a good person than any one I know.
I'd gladly throw myself in front of a bus for any of these unknown acquaintances.
Sacrifice is the only way to please them
only way to be worthwhile.
Maybe I only hang around scumbags.
Maybe I should find something better to do.
Maybe I should go live in a cave and howl at the moon and cut myself performing ancient ceremonies with flint worked obsidian stones.
Maybe I've lost it.
Maybe I never had it in the first place.
Maybe it doesn't matter.
Maybe only leaves me guessing.
Irrelevant of situation or circumstance;
I can still look deep inside;
past others opinions,
past the world outside,
past my influences,
past insults,
and compliments.
I can look for the deepest truth I know;
the only one to remain constant
and it will look me in the face
and say
your a worthless *******
finish it already *****.

HAHAHAHAAH
you ******* scumbags and scrublords
think you actually know something

and it's cute
god, you're all so ******* cute

We said we’d be forever
that when the others crumbled, we’d be together
a dysfunctional trio, flying upon broken wings
trying our hardest to fit into the grand scheme of things

we wreaked havoc; *****, drugs, ***
only when they ran out could we truly forget -
waking up on strange sofas, in pools of our own *****
the night before our brains pickled, our minds with the comets

with rusty needles and plastic bags we laid our hearts bare
not really knowing the dangers, and if we did we still wouldn’t have cared
for the ***** lead us to high ecstatic stardom
to the land of whispering voices and seductive secret gardens

we never had luxuries, three low-life crooks
the kind of scumbags you’d find in classic period or thriller books –
except maybe we weren’t; back then things were less formal
just three struggling youths trying to make life seem normal

you see the drugs helped us forget
those murky days bloated with confusion and disposable respect -
***** orange substances in broken needles, so exchangeable
we sat away from life and instead fell in love with the angels.

Johnny’s at his trailer home
Mixing up medicines
Trying to get through his life
Studying on the pavement
Saving enough just to get through high school then again

Look what you did
Kid you jumped into someone’s bed
Had a babe
But couldn’t get ahead
Follow your leaders
Get off the eternal parking meter

Get wet get set
Johnny come let’s bet
Watch the shuffle
He’s using a cold deck
They’ve kept you in check
You’re obviously still not gonna lose the bet

Look at what you’ve done away with kid
You’ve run away with a 100 bid
Shocked looks on their faces
Finally gaining some confidence in yourself
You use that confidence
And build up
To do away with the hard labor
Of giving free ******* on the subway stations

50%, 60%, 70%
You’re ******* ******
Go ahead
Get dressed
Today you’re gonna go to bed
With your wife and your kid

Look ahead kid
The world’s at your feet
You study so there’s nothing you can’t eat
But only thing that’s missing
In your lonely life
Is an intent to give you a blessing and no retreat

Look out kid
See what you did
On your life you’ve had to keep a lid
Taking concern from God and government
And scumbags and still avoiding property dealers

“ And so they went to war......coercive game” to wage new form of disruptive non-violent protest against the powerful, but undemocratic cliques by targeting individuals who belong to these circles, but stay under radar of democratic process. I don’t think the object of the attack matters – it’s the method of the attack what matters. Instead of exposing something they go undercover and “fix” situation as they see it fit their agenda whatever it might be. Since everything in their game is secret they are themselves the definition of word “undemocratic.”  

If I was greedy by working, paying Taxes and not a burden to the state
Why not simply call me out and expose the reason for your accusation
Why a ruthless covert war, why spread lies and disinformation and
misinformation
They could not do that
These are Thieves and Criminals
out to silence and discredit and hide their criminality
They is no guilt on my part, I called out thieves and scumbag crooks
By now
I should have had a breakdown
I should have left the Country scared out of my wits
I should have committed suicide or been incarcerated in jail
least they wanted to soften me up, turn me into a witless dummy
a confused withering fool pushed from pillar to post, begging acceptance.
NO
I am not intimidated by Thieves and their Mobsters
I am not softened up and I will keep unflinchingly to my truths
Fools, how can memories of my poor wife that you broke
blackmailed and made her leave depress me when I know the truth
Was happy she went as it was most painful watching her suffer
You know I could have gone looking to bring her back
I did not because I felt good knowing she's out of it
THEN
you tried creating unrequited Love that I saw from miles away
I didn't take the bait, yet you drone on like imbeciles that you are
anything to drain, depress, demoralize, break, torture or torment
I laugh at you gumption-less sickos cause its now obvious
no matter Criminals are really stupid, imbecilic, asinine fools
Its really true that nobody in their right minds ever wants to be
a criminal. You are semi-illiterates, worthless paranoid, fearful, twisted, psychotic cowards and Narcissists
AND
those are the well known tools you project on to your victims
thinking because they are not hardened Criminals like you
they will break and crumble
To be hounded and followed is your worst nightmare
To an innocent man, its a pack of fools wasting their time
I haven't done anything criminal, why should I care
You hide underground, you need secrecy and anonymity
I have NOTHING TO HIDE, EXPOSE ME AS MUCH AS YOU LIKE
YOU ARE SCUMS AND CRIMINALS, THIEVES, BURGLARS, THE DREGS OF SOCIETY...the shame is yours NOT mine

White thieves and Mobsters in London putting the bite on a blackman who they stole from and who stood up to them!

YOU DON'T SCARE ME CHEAP DISGRACEFUL SCUMS
YOU DO NOT SCARE ME ONE TINY BIT......
Do your worst, scumbags.......

In the midst
of a fiery debate
on Christmas music.

John says Mariah, hands down,
‘what a voice,
always have a shimmy to that
at the work do.’

Mike thinks Band Aid,
‘number one
for six years
but the original’s the best.’

Sharon believes Wham!
because if you can’t
have a bit of cheese
this time of year when can you.

I put forward the Pogues,
fist on table, ‘it must be the winner’,
and before I know it
we’re calling each other scumbags.