"sociopaths" poems
American Democracy
is setting a trend:
American Democracy
is a Sitcom, or perhaps a Game Show
of demagogic, narcissistic sociopaths
tricking and manipulating the Public
via various sources in a highly consolidated Media industry
into thinking they vote for a particular flavor of Tyranny
when in reality Today's flavor of Tyranny is all decided for you
because the burden of Choice is far too stressful
for the Moderner without proper medication,
and the power of Choice may require some sort of educated critical Thinking,
some sort of re-edification
which is far too much for us to handle
in this socially sanctioned doped-up state
and with such an intentionally failing Education system
from K through 12 and beyond.
With American Democracy,
We have a grand Illusion of Choice.
It's so convincing that many believe the Illusion is True.
(Sort of like hew we think of Reality, but with Choice of Government!)
For American Democracy,
They don't want mass Education.
They don't want mass Edification.
They don't want Critical Thinking;
Those things prevent a Control by few.
In American Democracy,
They intentionally destroy progresses made, like Rights,
They perpetuate stigmas about things like genders and the concept of "race" itself
They propagate Terror as their Sheeple scream from the sidelines for more
They defile the sanctity of Human Experience, of Reality itself
and chain us to a system that benefits only a few
while destroying everything else,
like Climate and Environment.
These Demagogues are Satan, if Satan is real:
They tempt us with the things we don't need,
filling us with Stress, Desires, Prejudices and Fears,
and ceaselessly wage war on institutions of Education,
all the while keeping us from finding the things we already have within each of us.
This System of American Democracy
has degraded into a corrupted fractal
of the ages-old ways of Tyranny and Terror:
Aristocracy, Plutocracy,
Patriarchy, Oligarchy,
Kleptocracy, Demagoguery,
Bankocracy, Corporatocracy,
Fascism;
Tell me,
What is the ******* difference?
I mean,
even Adolf ****** was elected democratically
under the pretense of "Change"
then, for weeks later, suspended civil rights indefinitely
after a likely false-flag 'attack' on the Reichstag in 1933,
(for which the Nazis blamed the communists.)
under the pretense of "Security":
Demagoguery runs Amok
Among disedified Minds.
They say "Freedom" and "Democracy"
as if it vindicates their Totalitarianism.
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
*chaste pecks from the super-sonic youth
numb lips flutter to the hollowed cheeks of normality
no longer the hand-prints on the guide book to hostility
a pamphlet of rudimentary teachings;
the principles of tolerance and rebellion and acceptance of human beings
a concoction of suppressed psychotic behavior, quick wit, and center of satirical tease
constantly moving with heavy footsteps and heavier hearts
their minds and bodies plagued with actions from a deserted youth
soul lusting over the naivety of people before self-actualization; how crude
do they call it an existential crisis or the daily life of a agoraphobic nobody
shouts from the depths of caged fears that scrape the oblivious flesh in their brain; a bit gaudy
mother, sister, brother, father how your words crush the knots of comfort that line my internal organs
bleeding from the pores of my screams; streams of moon-beams shooting out my eyes; oh, not again!
stomping our metaphorically spiked toenails against the idealism of pop culture
oh, my, how adolescence is the worst kind of torture
cherry slushies lined with cigarettes to create a whirl-pool of nostalgia
recreational drugs and ironic situations to ease our instinctual sense of proverbial nausea
loud-mouthed demons spawned out of clothes-hangers and emotional turmoil
show up in our nightmares that we nick-name ‘a good place to contemplate suicide’
repeated imagery stacked like flap-jacks in the mouths of blissed-out sociopaths
too self-indulgent to include us in to their personal stories so we can observe, record, and assess
i don’t perceive doctors to be particularly and predominantly just and true
but i one time met a doctor who told me ‘being a teenager is perhaps the hardest thing you could ever do’*
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 10:20 PM UTC
She leads with sexuality.
She says **** me," instead of
hello.
If she says, "I love you already."
don't run away, don't
worry, it only means,
"How was your day?"
It means something
normal.
If she doesn't say it, still, she isn't
normal.
Her eyes begin every sentence with,
"Will you love me?
Will you **** me?
Will you promise to never
leave me?"
And when you say, "Bend over,"
It will mean, "Love you, too."
You used to think *** was love, but
now you know, *** isn't love.
*** is medicine for
sick people.
Your body, naked, shaking, is more of
a multivitamin for sociopaths,
than it is your body.
She leads with sexuality, but
how else should it be felt?
And no, your **** is not big enough
to fill the hole
in her heart.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 2:19 PM UTC
six deadbolts
and a loaded gun
tucked beneath your
pillow, what are you
waiting for love?
is it the rapists or
the sociopaths or
the criminally insane
come to shatter your
suburban dream?
they may come for you,
or maybe you are
one of them.
it doesn't really matter
anyways, you'll still
rise when you rise,
laugh when you can
and never, ever cry-
that would make you
human. you'll still
be seeking answers
if you're lucky and
pretending to know
what love is
in a dark, dark place.
everything will go to ****
on its own. be wary
not of the sociopaths
but the preachers
of god, of love, of war,
be wary of
your own mind.
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 1:27 PM UTC
You faint and fawn over pretty faces
A person who can buy you nice things
A sociopath with sic six pack abs
Who places passion over common sense
A perfect prince charming to make you swoon
Who will sweep you off your feet
Fly you to the moon and all those other
Outdated overrated simplistic ********
Fairytale dreams
And you wonder why the world *****
Why it’s getting worse
Because your desire is tied to your Gucci purse
Because if sociopaths are what you want
Then every other guy will strive to fit that bill
Will hollow himself out to live up to that deal
Cause you are the best reinforcement for bad behavior
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 5:06 PM UTC
influenced by arrogant,
disrespectful people who
don't mind their own business,
people who tell us what to do,
controlling sociopaths,
emotions filled with hatred,
heart that doesn't know
where it belongs,
just a few teenagers
tangled in the mess
of the menacing world.
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 6:18 PM UTC
The Rent-a-Mob loonies, the gangsters and the Racists
damaged scums of society and contemporary politics
Ignorant arrogant sociopaths who want it all for nothing
Indulgent wasters in nation awashed with opportunities
In idle union they scream, feed us poor and **** the Rich
Strangers come Poland, Bulgaria, India and all over
to work in farms, hospitals, hotels and Constructions
Building futures and faring in endeavours with sweat
Crimson gangs and Renta Mobs states we serve nobody
**** the wealth makers, **** the parasites and let's drink
Our shyster gangs of Revo-comrades and malcontents
See killing fields, whereas strangers toil and find rich pickings
Our Revos Distract, confuse, sow seeds of dissent, make strife
Blame all others, lie and decieve, fling indulgent political turds
Rent brainwashed Mobs,into ***** bridgard to do their ***** work
We all know life is unfair and even roses have imperfections
Some are born to riches in spades and some born to beggars in dusts
Those with time, sit and ask God why, just a fact of life to accept
But from dust has risen billionaires, whilst riches have made duds
Insane Crimson sits in spurious guise and odious fallacy playing God
Yeh, **** the Rich and feed the poor, why hide and use Rent a mob
Why not air your case in broad daylight and stand your conviction
The coward you are knows it hold no sanity for those with sense
Except for thieves, the workshy and wasters who cheat to survive
In your city of merits aplenty, Revo-crimson is beneath contempt
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 9:56 AM UTC
*( Loki )
1
All ills you have wrought
Mischief maker in the dirt
No shower will cleanse
2
Poor Woolfy Spirit
******* in actuality
You ARE Beryl Dov
3
Thor is your new name
Psychopath reinventing
Same old *** trickster
4
Who is following
The fortune cookie writers
Such lame phony names
5
Fragile ego here
Pages of Wolf and Beryl
Drama queens reeking
6
Even as he leaves
Tireless self promoter
Lowers the banal*
Note:
Wolf Spirit IS Dire Wolf IS Toreanus Pinwinkle III IS Thor IS Beryl Dov IS ******** ( aka ******* ) Rabbi IS soooooo many others - a many-faced pest and pariah, previously banned on other sites for being stalkers and sociopaths !!
See:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1530102/wolves/
&
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1516652/breach/
&
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/832663/beryl-dov/
&
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1527822/not-a-poem-an-open-response-to-wolf-spirit-and-wolf-spirit-dire/
Basically anyone who follows these massive-ego predators is probably them !!
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 9:48 PM UTC
the sun burns red in the west
The lovers meet in secret
Following their hearts
in the cropping darkness
It is big and brave
For the passionate lover
He would hand it to her love tonight
Hoping that she would cherish it
Even when he will be away
She gives him hers
Tells him "be strong and intact
Return safe my love
I will be waiting for you"
The heart,
That little body part
habouring all issues
Makes all decisions
The heart,
it strengthens the soldier
in the battle front
Singing to him songs of courage
Reminding him of his sweet love at home
Love from the heart is true and passionate
Its different from lust
and is bound to last
The battle is love
Even though the war is different
He kills for love
she is the only thing in mind
She gets broken a few times
taunted by sociopaths
Telling her 'they will never come back"
She has waited for times and times
But the heart stands all the tests
Most of the times
The heart that
lordship of mind and body
Guides everyody
Decisions of the heart
You can trust
He thinks with the mind for tact
but nomatter what
He follows his heart;
even though he is bruised and hurt
The mind fills him with doubt
but the heart tells him to fight
Reminds him of heroes
and sweet **********
Turns him to a matador
the eyes give him sight
but the heart fills him with insight
Hugging him tight
it neutralises his fright
He marches right
Into enemy territory
She is barely making through
They think she should remarry
News of fallen soldiers devastates her heart
Man's strength is from within the heart
Courage is not from spears
Not arrows and swords...
That small body part!
Emperors and conquerors
Lovers and soldiers listen
Fathers and Mothers
They listen to the heart
He creates devastation
Wrecking the enemy camp
As his battalion joins in
His heart moulding him
Into a hero
That small body part
Endures all in patience
As she waits
Saying its never late
...a time of jubilation
Victory cries are heard
Those back are few
But they removed the enemy
By conviction of their hearts
He is a legend
The man after everyone's hearts
She is joyous
As she runs into his embrace
The heart
That small body part
Endured it all
A soldier's heart...
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 7:48 AM UTC
lessons of life's sanctity,
clarity of reason
and chastity
elude
the sociopath unglued;
clouded lens
filtering threads
of sense
common from extreme,
relishing shreds of conspiracies
unfounded...
tying the falling dow and twin-towers...
to call of duty and
the man....
in the slick blue suit
with the funny last name
sticking it to us,
stripping us of our inalienable rights,
god-given,
taking our bibles and guns away
to mombasa
spiraling memes of dysfunction
programmed to propagate fallacies
in minds unhinged
on the fringes of reality...
like paranoiacs
sipping green tea
or a.m. fanatics
fueling the frenzy
of sociopaths unglued,
licensed to spill
sacred blood
of the masses
at a crowded school
or movie theater
near you
now previewing:
*~ mass homicide XII
&
~ teenage terrorist in black - the sequel*
home-grown
&
fully-loaded...
~ P (Pablo)
(8/5/2013)
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 11:54 AM UTC
When I said was that those things didn't make you a sociopath and I knew that because I fall for sociopaths.
What I meant was that those things couldn't make you be that because I like you and I don't like unhealthy things anymore.
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
I think the reason why we live is because of death. We fear death, we fear the unknown. One could even dare say the unknown is the future. It's the reason why we cling onto the past so much, we fear the unknown the most. I believe without a doubt that reincarnation happens and some could say that people's souls grow older and wiser. Yet why do people commit suicide? One could say that they are new souls, new creations of life. However as I think about it more and more, could it possibly be because the soul is starting to realize that life is too unpredictable and too unbearable? Maybe those who commit suicide are the souls who are actually a little mature. Maybe the reason why some people look forward to the future is because they are actually new souls. Then there is those who are wise beyond their years and still look forward to the future. Perhaps souls that grow too old become energy and become recreated into new souls to continue on. Perhaps the evil people with souls are being cleansed to create a new start. Perhaps that's the reason why sociopaths exist. Maybe they're just old souls who have seen many lives and are starting to lose the vitality it once had. Perhaps they are in the process of getting their souls cleansed from all they have done after they have been punished. The real reason why we would seek immortality is because we fear death. However I believe that even after we erase the fear of death, we will end up growing a new fear. Fear is inevitable. We will end up growing to fear love. Sounds funny, why would we fear love? If you're immortal, you will start to see the beauty of life and death. You will watch the people you grew up with, you laughed with, you work with, you care about, and you loved die. You will start pushing away all of them, everyone for fear of getting close. If you're immortal, that doesn't mean that you don't have a heart. Your fear of death is nothing like the fear of love. Unlike the fear of death, you will be alone if you fear love. The fear of death only makes bonds between those who also fear death. However to fear love will cause you to alienate yourself from the people around you. A soul cannot live on it's own. It will only disintegrate and get it's soul ripped inside and out. We must have death in order to live. Because life without death is miserable and lonely.
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 12:56 AM UTC
I’m a thief.
A criminal mastermind vying for all the affections of dead poets and living sociopaths
Watching flesh fall off of my fingertips and flutter to the floor.
Sewing on new skin like armor until a foreign face meets my eyes and smiles back
I’m in a perpetual state of identity crisis. I’m here and I’m there and I’ve be down while looking up and vice versa so many times
And so now my sense of direction has long rotted away and I’m left on my hands and knees sorting through the scattered remnants of me
And through it all, the rise and fall of an infinite wave whose name can be cleverly modeled on the back of a pill bottle, I still look down to the faded ink of a long-lost letter
It reads; “I swear I can be better”
And just when I look up to the moon for a cue on the tide’s change,
an anchor pulls me away and prepares my flooded lungs for another sorrow soaked day
So I guess I’ll stay
See, even now, schizophrenia might be preferable because at least then I could give the voices in my head a name and shed some of this blame on someone else
The only thing I really have left is my name
And even that is melting out through cracks in my closed fist because I held it too tightly against my burning heart
Somewhere inside I always knew it belonged to someone else from the start
But I stole it.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 2:06 PM UTC
Your psychopathic sleep hours tick by slowly,
dreamless time, unconscious to the world -
a temporary death each night. Do you know
how much you hurt me? I suppose you do.
I crumbled like the flaky leaves in autumn
underneath your feet, and fell for another boy
eventually. You moved away, and now sleep undisturbed
with another girl. She must sleep soundly too,
oblivious to your reputation, the way you once ate
fields of girls as though you were a swarm of summer locusts.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 7:25 PM UTC
we are a generation of sedation,
discursive, empty, godless children,
raised in the age of social media,
where the height of our emotions
lie in our 'thoughts and prayers',
and the best we can do is a touch of a button,
a share, a like, a tweet, a reaction documented,
rumination we pretend we've borne.
is it our intrepid numbness to it all?
after all, we are best known for
the plight for attention and validation,
or rather yet our entitlement and our narcissism,
terrorism doesn't have a face unless i see it,
and it begs the millennial question,
are we just a bunched of depressed sociopaths?
or is it because we are the privileged 20%,
nestle in the fringes of developed nations,
with our precious technology and our internet,
unbeknownst to a third world, a third world
we mourn according to how it benefits us.
after all, don't forget that in an emergency,
there is always 'thoughts and prayers'.
-
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 5:01 AM UTC
he wrote you poem after poem
with broken fingers
taught you how to shoot a gun
with the safety on
he
showed you how to love
without
a
heart.
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC
my body is still warm in the
places where you pressed
against me as you
****** out from my bones
any ounce of apathy
I might have had left
and my guts flutter
violently like a moth trapped in a glass box
and I can't wait
to never have to see you again
because I could love someone who is
seven times better than you
but right now
my waist can't stop remembering
the places your fingers sometimes liked to rest
I suspended my disbelief for you
but you forgot me somewhere
like a flea
behind the cigarettes and ******
behind the pretty girls who tease
behind the marrow in your knees
but some mornings, you wake up panicked
swollen with the sweat of something you might have once dreamed
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 12:18 AM UTC
yeah we're getting drunk at four in the afternoon
we don't have anywhere to drive to.
we have no class
no responsibility
my city's filthy
I live in the art district
nobody else anywhere else in the world can say that
Richmond knows how to lay it down
how to make the children feel invincible
how to make the women feel like super models
and the men like long lost kings
don't like my poems?
that's fine
we flow to a different drum beat
yeah we are a bunch of
PBR swilling hipsters in our non corrective lenses
but we know how humanity dances back and forth
like the flickering of candle light
and I've never felt out of place here
only just as weird as everybody else
we are pathological liars and sociopaths
our apathy is only matched by our endless empathy
My Mum thinks I am a hell of a writer
endless support
but the anonymity never ends
a scroll from God to lead us to death
and the transvestites are polite enough
*boy you smell ****
they blurt out as I walk past in a cloud of old spice
the art school chicks make me feel validated
when I find myself sneaking out of their houses in the morning's yawn
come to Richmond if you want a good time
if you're fake you'll make it
but if you're bitter and jaded
you might pass out of interest
like cartoons to a 15 year old
I could talk **** on this city all night
but truth be told
I love what I hate
and truth withheld
don't tell my English friends
that my heart beats
solely for that
RVA-lution
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
Anything can sound silly
death threats from the weak
and admissions of love
from sociopaths
the height of hilarity
a squeaky voice
will do a good job
at stealing the strength
of any sentence.
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 11:10 AM UTC
We were both huddled together,
cuddled up on the love seat.
We were sharing some primary source of joy,
the title I can't recall now,
when she let out a frail sigh
and said
"you know, I don't really give a **** about being remembered,
I'd rather just be read now, at face value, and left at that."
Her admission was inspiring.
Faking headaches
and skipping class
to go back to my house,
everyone thought we were sociopaths but
we were just lonely.
To say she understood me
is an understatement.
After we put the book down
she insisted that a good kiss
should be vaccuous
and I said I didn't get it,
that's when she put her lips to mine
and enlightened me.
Like her bar of soap,
but dirtier,
I was bent on the curves of her body.
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 6:58 PM UTC
.
*1
Paired truths' paradox
Instant gratifications
Dissatisfactions
2
Black and white suits drone
Crushing joys in stale board rooms
Wishing for lunchtime
3
Only prints can touch
Rejection up on the screens
Instant messages
4
At water cooler
Smiles are leaving as they begin
Punch clock is waiting
5
New lovers are blind
Eyes on mobile devices
Hands in empty laps
6
Paper copies voids
Work a day world is shuffled
Even carpets smudged
7
Message coming in
Break away from actuality
Machine is turnoff
8
Monitoring tables
New job for prince or princess
Thrown cushy with wheels
9
Economy rules
Each worker replaceable
Sociopaths king
10
Drones chirp in dreamworld
Beyond corporate glass room
Birds singing outside*
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 3:28 AM UTC
It seems a lot of women
are married to handsome psychopaths
or sociopaths these days.
It's much the same thing, you know.
They always have a certain charm
of innocence. Often with a blond fringe
that needs cutting. People like them.
They are fun to be with.
But if you sit down for a while
and contemplate the crocodile,
one realises you only know the clever hide;
the reptile within plays with its food.
By then its prey has swum too deep
within the delta of the lies;
white-painted doors without a key
close in on her and she wonders:
is it me?
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 9:04 AM UTC
Poets are sociopaths
masquerading as artists
who've convinced themselves they know how to connect to other people
while having no clue where their own heart is.
Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 12:36 AM UTC
They didn't call it privilege
Mum said its called responsibility
they didn't call it money
Dad said its called overdraft from the bank
then they made you sign a contract
that ties you to your education
for the next twenty one years
with a rider that contains a Clause
that you are hanged from the mango tree
in the back garden if you fail any exams
They weren't called older sisters
they were Prison wardens controlled by Mum
dare misbehave and its solitary with no meals for your ***
They weren't known as older brothers
they were sadistic Policemen who had no Rule book
They was no sense of Entitlement
there was ****** do as you're told till you leave my house
and dare bring it to disrepute and watch yourself swing from the mango tree
there weren't alarm clocks
they was be on time in the morning for school
or go see Rev Slattery for six of the best
And then after all these
you meet the snowflakes whose mums do it all
wash, cook, iron and nurture without a mango tree
and these snowflakes signed no Contract to pass exam
and they have no Rev Slattery with a cane,
who would be recognized by them as the Pervert he was
and would now be doing Ten years at HM pleasure.
they have sisters and brothers that are mates
and have chips and Maccy D on tap
and a system that gives their parents money especially for them
not that overdraft that my father had from Barclays
And these airhead snowflakes and sociopaths
point ***** Maccy D fingers and fish and chips mouths
tell fairy Tales and fables about
Silver spoons and Privileges
about a sense of Entitlements
about Greed and opulence
Proving that comfort and easy life causes Brain Damage.....
May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 6:29 PM UTC