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"subhuman" poems
I am the Great Connector I was born to unite The Horde I am the Great Collector Of souls felled by my Axensword They all call me subhuman And revile me as a beast But they do the same to you and For that they'll pay the price (No Peace) We are strong, We are brave Though they wish to see us caged We are wild and Untamed And we will never live as slaves Conquerors, We Are One! Same blood in different skins At last you'll see, when the victor is me I am the Lord of our Kin Wastelanders, Join the March The World will burn as we sing When the battle is won, I'll announce to everyone "I am the Ogre King!" I am the Great Divider I was born to brew up storms I am the Annihilator My path was forged in war My reign began in chaos In Bloodshed, so it ends All this Strife has nearly left me with No Kingdom to Defend (Descent) We are Violent and Enraged Now that we have been Betrayed There are Consequences Grave For Manipulated Faith Revolution, it has come! Same blood but different sins The Empire Falls And all Hear the Call For A New Order to Begin Decapitate the Tyrants & Slaughter those who Resist When the battle is won, At the top of my lungs, I'll cry "Long Live the Ogre King!" I am the Great Destroyer The Throne is mine to take I will be king at any cost Dead nations in my wake I am the Great Conniver With Sinister Designs Never cared how much is Lost So long as what is Left is Mine (Arise) We are rabid and insane From lives of misery and pain Now that the world's ablaze We fall into our cages These Horrors have just begun Same gore from separate veins What have we done, To our daughters and sons? A History Bloodstained! We threw our lives into this war, And lost more than we gave When the killing is done, I'll tell everyone, "The Ogre King is slain!" Now Our Planet is a Grave! "The Ogre King is Slain, Long Live the Ogre King, I Am The Ogre King!"
0
Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 3:38 PM UTC
xan-abyss
Ogre King
I am the Great Connector I was born to unite The Horde I am the Great Collector Of souls felled by my Axensword They all call me subhuman And revile me as a beast But they do the same to you and For that they'll pay the price (No Peace) We are strong, We are brave Though they wish to see us caged We are wild and Untamed And we will never live as slaves Conquerors, We Are One! Same blood in different skins At last you'll see, when the victor is me I am the Lord of our Kin Wastelanders, Join the March The World will burn as we sing When the battle is won, I'll announce to everyone "I am the Ogre King!" I am the Great Divider I was born to brew up storms I am the Annihilator My path was forged in war My reign began in chaos In Bloodshed, so it ends All this Strife has nearly left me with No Kingdom to Defend (Descent) We are Violent and Enraged Now that we have been Betrayed There are Consequences Grave For Manipulated Faith Revolution, it has come! Same blood but different sins The Empire Falls And all Hear the Call For A New Order to Begin Decapitate the Tyrants & Slaughter those who Resist When the battle is won, At the top of my lungs, I'll cry "Long Live the Ogre King!" I am the Great Destroyer The Throne is mine to take I will be king at any cost Dead nations in my wake I am the Great Conniver With Sinister Designs Never cared how much is Lost So long as what is Left is Mine (Arise) We are rabid and insane From lives of misery and pain Now that the world's ablaze We fall into our cages These Horrors have just begun Same gore from separate veins What have we done, To our daughters and sons? A History Bloodstained! We threw our lives into this war, And lost more than we gave When the killing is done, I'll tell everyone, "The Ogre King is slain!" Now Our Planet is a Grave! "The Ogre King is Slain, Long Live the Ogre King, I Am The Ogre King!"
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72
you haven't lived until you've been in a flophouse with nothing but one light bulb and 56 men squeezed together on cots with everybody snoring at once and some of those snores so deep and gross and unbelievable- dark snotty gross subhuman wheezings from hell itself. your mind almost breaks under those death-like sounds and the intermingling odors: hard unwashed socks ****** and ******* underwear and over it all slowly circulating air much like that emanating from uncovered garbage cans. and those bodies in the dark fat and thin and bent some legless armless some mindless and worst of all: the total absence of hope it shrouds them covers them totally. it's not bearable. you get up go out walk the streets up and down sidewalks past buildings around the corner and back up the same street thinking those men were all children once what has happened to them? and what has happened to me? it's dark and cold out here.
0
4.1k
Charles Bukowski
Flophouse
you haven't lived until you've been in a flophouse with nothing but one light bulb and 56 men squeezed together on cots with everybody snoring at once and some of those snores so deep and gross and unbelievable- dark snotty gross subhuman wheezings from hell itself. your mind almost breaks under those death-like sounds and the intermingling odors: hard unwashed socks ****** and ******* underwear and over it all slowly circulating air much like that emanating from uncovered garbage cans. and those bodies in the dark fat and thin and bent some legless armless some mindless and worst of all: the total absence of hope it shrouds them covers them totally. it's not bearable. you get up go out walk the streets up and down sidewalks past buildings around the corner and back up the same street thinking those men were all children once what has happened to them? and what has happened to me? it's dark and cold out here.
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99
we were at the hospital the other day on acid saw some people that looked subhuman started thinking those thoughts like how i would **** them and get rid of all of them the acid talking i breathed and stepped out of the hospital to breathe no smoking sign telling me i can't do that right here fresh air is near over here by the flowers i smoked a girl with purple hair around me very near "is that your peoples?" no no no laughing i don't know why he thought she was with me we were just staring fading tripping the flowers looked 3D the bee inside looked like some **** from planet earth i heard it there first my first trip a visit to see a friend struggling to breathe while we smoke out front walked into icu with a blunt celebrating life thinking about memories and how they make us rely on what we know and remember to tell us the future but it's really what we make it we can create new break down barriers break down the walls make new paths in the brain heal recover breathe stronger the next day
0
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 3:24 AM UTC
b-3
Acid at ICU
we were at the hospital the other day on acid saw some people that looked subhuman started thinking those thoughts like how i would **** them and get rid of all of them the acid talking i breathed and stepped out of the hospital to breathe no smoking sign telling me i can't do that right here fresh air is near over here by the flowers i smoked a girl with purple hair around me very near "is that your peoples?" no no no laughing i don't know why he thought she was with me we were just staring fading tripping the flowers looked 3D the bee inside looked like some **** from planet earth i heard it there first my first trip a visit to see a friend struggling to breathe while we smoke out front walked into icu with a blunt celebrating life thinking about memories and how they make us rely on what we know and remember to tell us the future but it's really what we make it we can create new break down barriers break down the walls make new paths in the brain heal recover breathe stronger the next day
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59
Yong Marx, yet to die, jumped out of an air-conditioned car, a journey Berlin to Bombay as the Dream merchant of Utopia metamorphosed him into a subhuman white bearded national bourgeoisie. The third world girl who was climbing a tree without Motorcycle- Diaries hung to her clothe looked like an Engelian mistake possibly not from Cuba, Zambia or Bolivia, certainly not a Soviet artefact. Alienation, self-affirmation and all unlike modes of production confused his surplus brain. The dichotomy of imaginings and reality with the girl proven anti-thesis kafkaesqued him an added ****** struggle. A shift in his struggle with a smile on her lips gave a hint of welcome to her Animal Farm. He did get inside. The moulded furniture, preoccupied sickle and the lacking exploitation left him a disappointing proletariat grin. She opened her mouth, blue words did not discharge. Neither the mid wife nor the revolution pumped her conscience. He got up, disappointed, alarmed, cursed the chap who misdirected to a class-less renewed pattern. “Comrade” she said shaking his hands, the blood did stir for a moment but the fight less slant , **** suits and her distant reality pained the rationalist. The amusingly alienated young Marx jumped into his car and left for utopia.
0
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 10:41 AM UTC
Gaye
When Marx came home
Yong Marx, yet to die, jumped out of an air-conditioned car, a journey Berlin to Bombay as the Dream merchant of Utopia metamorphosed him into a subhuman white bearded national bourgeoisie. The third world girl who was climbing a tree without Motorcycle- Diaries hung to her clothe looked like an Engelian mistake possibly not from Cuba, Zambia or Bolivia, certainly not a Soviet artefact. Alienation, self-affirmation and all unlike modes of production confused his surplus brain. The dichotomy of imaginings and reality with the girl proven anti-thesis kafkaesqued him an added ****** struggle. A shift in his struggle with a smile on her lips gave a hint of welcome to her Animal Farm. He did get inside. The moulded furniture, preoccupied sickle and the lacking exploitation left him a disappointing proletariat grin. She opened her mouth, blue words did not discharge. Neither the mid wife nor the revolution pumped her conscience. He got up, disappointed, alarmed, cursed the chap who misdirected to a class-less renewed pattern. “Comrade” she said shaking his hands, the blood did stir for a moment but the fight less slant , **** suits and her distant reality pained the rationalist. The amusingly alienated young Marx jumped into his car and left for utopia.
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36
We are born with luck which is to say with gold in our mouth. As new and smooth as a grape, as pure as a pond in Alaska, as good as the stem of a green bean-- we are born and that ought to be enough, we ought to be able to carry on from that but one must learn about evil, learn what is subhuman, learn how the blood pops out like a scream, one must see the night before one can realize the day, one must listen hard to the animal within, one must walk like a sleepwalker on the edge of a roof, one must throw some part of her body into the devil's mouth. Odd stuff, you'd say. But I'd say you must die a little, have a book of matches go off in your hand, see your best friend copying your exam, visit an Indian reservation and see their plastic feathers, the dead dream. One must be a prisoner just once to hear the lock twist into his gut. After all that one is free to grasp at the trees, the stones, the sky, the birds that make sense out of air. But even in a telephone booth evil can seep out of the receiver and we must cover it with a mattress, and then tear it from its roots and bury it, bury it.
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2k
Anne Sexton
The Evil Seekers
We are born with luck which is to say with gold in our mouth. As new and smooth as a grape, as pure as a pond in Alaska, as good as the stem of a green bean-- we are born and that ought to be enough, we ought to be able to carry on from that but one must learn about evil, learn what is subhuman, learn how the blood pops out like a scream, one must see the night before one can realize the day, one must listen hard to the animal within, one must walk like a sleepwalker on the edge of a roof, one must throw some part of her body into the devil's mouth. Odd stuff, you'd say. But I'd say you must die a little, have a book of matches go off in your hand, see your best friend copying your exam, visit an Indian reservation and see their plastic feathers, the dead dream. One must be a prisoner just once to hear the lock twist into his gut. After all that one is free to grasp at the trees, the stones, the sky, the birds that make sense out of air. But even in a telephone booth evil can seep out of the receiver and we must cover it with a mattress, and then tear it from its roots and bury it, bury it.
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36
I am untouchable, right? You don't want to touch me Be near me I'm so ugly An outcast, I gripe Sparkles of dust Flying aimlessly Towards the void I disgust, don't I? An abomination in flesh A ***** -inducing nauseating pile of thrash I'm nothing to you You are nothing to me So you fear I'll give you the disease Honey, there's no disease worse than the one that is rotting your brain To you I'm dispensable An object A slave So you won't touch me But you want me clean your dirt, your shame, your filth For they would make your hands ***** My hands, what hands? I'm subhuman ****** right! They don't matter Nothing matters So you won't touch me? That's fine I DON'T WANT TO BE TOUCHED BY YOU NOT IN A MILLION YEARS YOU DISGUST ME
0
Jan 20, 2021
Jan 20, 2021 at 7:44 AM UTC
daivik
Untouchable
I am untouchable, right? You don't want to touch me Be near me I'm so ugly An outcast, I gripe Sparkles of dust Flying aimlessly Towards the void I disgust, don't I? An abomination in flesh A ***** -inducing nauseating pile of thrash I'm nothing to you You are nothing to me So you fear I'll give you the disease Honey, there's no disease worse than the one that is rotting your brain To you I'm dispensable An object A slave So you won't touch me But you want me clean your dirt, your shame, your filth For they would make your hands ***** My hands, what hands? I'm subhuman ****** right! They don't matter Nothing matters So you won't touch me? That's fine I DON'T WANT TO BE TOUCHED BY YOU NOT IN A MILLION YEARS YOU DISGUST ME
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31
Drink up the radiation Subhuman viral nation That or starve in skeleton cars Chewin' on lettuce and candy bars It's a caper world but there's no dancing Skippin' like a child? Prepare for the violins An interlude of electric tubes Pushin' you closer to the cube Tinted windows beg for bullets And she makes *** feel like school I've climbed the mountains, crawled in the caves Still can't tell the veins from the beige Still don't know if I'm better off in Nod's nowhere Or Pan's wonderland of the living dead Don't talk much except to my shaky fingers Nibble nimble, spin a spindle, see the symbols, give a little I've got a man who lives under my tongue He fixes all my cavities And when the paycheck comes He sits atop the pink carpet- His anti-gravity I had a dream-weaver But now he's vacationing Somewhere in Himalayan Mountain territory He's been there for two moons And I doubt he'll ever leave He sends me postcards and fancy little things I put em' in a cigar box, hoping one day I'll see wings ****** was eaten by maggots Before he took the helm Insanity breeds anti-gravity Life breeds cruel leaders Forget divide and conquer It's swarm and swallow Tools of the revolution Intravenously protrude you Same In Nazarene Spit In the Name of me Go limping with a tishbite in the Cherith Stating the obvious facts of Sin Livin' only for lunar limbs And Bailey's beads Screaming, "My God! It's full of stars!"
0
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 9:37 PM UTC
lucy-tonic
Skull-Shrill Yell
Drink up the radiation Subhuman viral nation That or starve in skeleton cars Chewin' on lettuce and candy bars It's a caper world but there's no dancing Skippin' like a child? Prepare for the violins An interlude of electric tubes Pushin' you closer to the cube Tinted windows beg for bullets And she makes *** feel like school I've climbed the mountains, crawled in the caves Still can't tell the veins from the beige Still don't know if I'm better off in Nod's nowhere Or Pan's wonderland of the living dead Don't talk much except to my shaky fingers Nibble nimble, spin a spindle, see the symbols, give a little I've got a man who lives under my tongue He fixes all my cavities And when the paycheck comes He sits atop the pink carpet- His anti-gravity I had a dream-weaver But now he's vacationing Somewhere in Himalayan Mountain territory He's been there for two moons And I doubt he'll ever leave He sends me postcards and fancy little things I put em' in a cigar box, hoping one day I'll see wings ****** was eaten by maggots Before he took the helm Insanity breeds anti-gravity Life breeds cruel leaders Forget divide and conquer It's swarm and swallow Tools of the revolution Intravenously protrude you Same In Nazarene Spit In the Name of me Go limping with a tishbite in the Cherith Stating the obvious facts of Sin Livin' only for lunar limbs And Bailey's beads Screaming, "My God! It's full of stars!"
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45
When I was a child, I was told the story of my Grandfathers mother she was a refugee from mother Russia. He told me that we were no longer considered white that is a luxury. And we have become subhuman in most places. We were either locked behind iron walls to be kept in or out. He told me how they sacked and burned our villages. Then they proceeded to chase us on horseback, with swords pointed too the distant future. She was led to the nearest boat, headed towards The Land Of Opportunity. At the island she was locked away for Tuberculose and possibly Lice When leaving she refused to put an X for her name for obvious reasons. So she signed **** Years later I found out, she had opened a pawn shop down south. In what now is the forth most segregated area in the states. She sat outside with a shotgun in a rocking chair and windows barred. when there King died. Sadly, the last thing remembered by my Papa's mother including my family is a fist fight. In Santa Barbra. I saw the look of panic and pain on her despondent face. At this point that look was a common occurrence in my day to day life. Hence, the reason I wasn't allowed at the funeral. I was locked away at another rehabilitation center. For crimes I had of course never committed Since then I have not laid any tulips or morning prayers.
0
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 4:22 AM UTC
MichaelKreitman
Modern Refugee
When I was a child, I was told the story of my Grandfathers mother she was a refugee from mother Russia. He told me that we were no longer considered white that is a luxury. And we have become subhuman in most places. We were either locked behind iron walls to be kept in or out. He told me how they sacked and burned our villages. Then they proceeded to chase us on horseback, with swords pointed too the distant future. She was led to the nearest boat, headed towards The Land Of Opportunity. At the island she was locked away for Tuberculose and possibly Lice When leaving she refused to put an X for her name for obvious reasons. So she signed **** Years later I found out, she had opened a pawn shop down south. In what now is the forth most segregated area in the states. She sat outside with a shotgun in a rocking chair and windows barred. when there King died. Sadly, the last thing remembered by my Papa's mother including my family is a fist fight. In Santa Barbra. I saw the look of panic and pain on her despondent face. At this point that look was a common occurrence in my day to day life. Hence, the reason I wasn't allowed at the funeral. I was locked away at another rehabilitation center. For crimes I had of course never committed Since then I have not laid any tulips or morning prayers.
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22
i believe that there lives a counterpart of me in Spain and in France - equally critical - not me per se, but two individuals to compensate my efforts in England, Eastern European, hell-bent to overtax the happy meal and frozen foods for "the busy lives of 21st century love-e-dub-e's; a seance of unification might be far away mind you; they say they cite the Bible as if it were an Encyclopaedia - you reared the African as subhuman, you think, that other European nations will succumb to the African systematisation necessary for integration? you actually think i'll abandon my mother tongue to engross myself in your filthy history and sing god save our queen like a kindergarten sing-along readying myself for Oompa-Loompas? oh i'm sure that's just due to your genetic makeshift tents on the steppes of Mongolia; any news from Mongolia? none. any news from Kazakhstan? none; except irony... or the great Tao principle: forget the world and let the world forget you; i'm not too eager on the Heidegger octopus either having to be in the world and care for it - or at least tax my existence with a concern for it. but of course it's like an inbreeding principle: little Britain meets the Empire, Darth Asthmatic... coo khhh... coo khhh... H vocalised is the best painting of ancient static in televisions, motivational ashes lost with digitalisation, the kaleidoscope of flies and 8-eye spiders hacking the flight with spider-web geometrics... prolong the first two letters of the word Khan... and i'm sure you'll genealogically stress the origin of Pakistan as being in Mongolia.
0
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 7:40 PM UTC
removed.polaroid-scrabble
bile of regrets
i believe that there lives a counterpart of me in Spain and in France - equally critical - not me per se, but two individuals to compensate my efforts in England, Eastern European, hell-bent to overtax the happy meal and frozen foods for "the busy lives of 21st century love-e-dub-e's; a seance of unification might be far away mind you; they say they cite the Bible as if it were an Encyclopaedia - you reared the African as subhuman, you think, that other European nations will succumb to the African systematisation necessary for integration? you actually think i'll abandon my mother tongue to engross myself in your filthy history and sing god save our queen like a kindergarten sing-along readying myself for Oompa-Loompas? oh i'm sure that's just due to your genetic makeshift tents on the steppes of Mongolia; any news from Mongolia? none. any news from Kazakhstan? none; except irony... or the great Tao principle: forget the world and let the world forget you; i'm not too eager on the Heidegger octopus either having to be in the world and care for it - or at least tax my existence with a concern for it. but of course it's like an inbreeding principle: little Britain meets the Empire, Darth Asthmatic... coo khhh... coo khhh... H vocalised is the best painting of ancient static in televisions, motivational ashes lost with digitalisation, the kaleidoscope of flies and 8-eye spiders hacking the flight with spider-web geometrics... prolong the first two letters of the word Khan... and i'm sure you'll genealogically stress the origin of Pakistan as being in Mongolia.
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41
***** filthy, subhuman creatures" They don’t care if you’re doctors, lawyers or teachers They’ll kidnap your children, spit on your soul Terrorize your family, kick in your door They’ll drug your mind with propaganda Cut out your tongue if you try to stand up They’ll beat you till you bleed But we never plead for mercy, No we never claim defeat They’ll kick you under the desk, send you slamming into the wall They’ll laugh and kick you harder, if you try to get up, if you try to crawl But our crawling brings us to our knees, Slowly, we rise up to our feet And we’ll face the persecution The vile, mind-prostitution They **** our women and our children, Just as much as they **** our minds ****** our emotion, But they will not ****** our pride Our dignity is our iron, Our religion is our crime. But you cannot destroy us Believe me, many have tried. There is silver in our blood, Gold in our soul Oil paint coats our skin And our words swallow you whole Our hearts are poets, Constructing your fears Our thoughts are daggers and arrows Our minds are cunning engineers You can hang us from the ceiling You can throw us in a tank of gas But our lungs are as pure as snow And this pain will never last We have risen from the ashes Hear our battle cries We do not yield weapons In silence, we ride -lf-
0
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 1:26 PM UTC
leelan-farhan
The Phoenix of Babylon
***** filthy, subhuman creatures" They don’t care if you’re doctors, lawyers or teachers They’ll kidnap your children, spit on your soul Terrorize your family, kick in your door They’ll drug your mind with propaganda Cut out your tongue if you try to stand up They’ll beat you till you bleed But we never plead for mercy, No we never claim defeat They’ll kick you under the desk, send you slamming into the wall They’ll laugh and kick you harder, if you try to get up, if you try to crawl But our crawling brings us to our knees, Slowly, we rise up to our feet And we’ll face the persecution The vile, mind-prostitution They **** our women and our children, Just as much as they **** our minds ****** our emotion, But they will not ****** our pride Our dignity is our iron, Our religion is our crime. But you cannot destroy us Believe me, many have tried. There is silver in our blood, Gold in our soul Oil paint coats our skin And our words swallow you whole Our hearts are poets, Constructing your fears Our thoughts are daggers and arrows Our minds are cunning engineers You can hang us from the ceiling You can throw us in a tank of gas But our lungs are as pure as snow And this pain will never last We have risen from the ashes Hear our battle cries We do not yield weapons In silence, we ride -lf-
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46
my idol led me to his office and shut the door behind us: first glance, piles of paper, not unusual but then, the glasses atop a teetering stack(!) so i raised an eyebrow and he grinned it was a dare put them on he said without speaking so i did. hesitantly, yes, but i did. XRAY VISION i cried shh he said with a finger to my lips it's my secret and you can't let anyone know of course not i said then i shook my head in wonder so this is how it's done this is how you know how you strip them down they are naked and trembling you poke and **** to find the weak spots and then you offer them to the world: a subhuman sacrifice. this turns me on i said can we? please? put them on what do you see? if i'm already bare and willingly exposed can you still pick me apart? i sacrifice myself, does that make you blind?
0
Mar 25, 2010
Mar 25, 2010 at 11:18 AM UTC
imagine-aluminum-1
in honor of a critic -
my idol led me to his office and shut the door behind us: first glance, piles of paper, not unusual but then, the glasses atop a teetering stack(!) so i raised an eyebrow and he grinned it was a dare put them on he said without speaking so i did. hesitantly, yes, but i did. XRAY VISION i cried shh he said with a finger to my lips it's my secret and you can't let anyone know of course not i said then i shook my head in wonder so this is how it's done this is how you know how you strip them down they are naked and trembling you poke and **** to find the weak spots and then you offer them to the world: a subhuman sacrifice. this turns me on i said can we? please? put them on what do you see? if i'm already bare and willingly exposed can you still pick me apart? i sacrifice myself, does that make you blind?
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32
When man fell, he saw a constant downward acceleration of nine-point-eight meters per second per second over a time span of approximately eternityinaninstant until his speed caught up with the subatomic particles that challenge light, and he became subhuman, challenging Light.
0
Jan 17, 2012
Jan 17, 2012 at 7:19 PM UTC
elizabeth-milnes
Celeritas
When man fell, he saw a constant downward acceleration of nine-point-eight meters per second per second over a time span of approximately eternityinaninstant until his speed caught up with the subatomic particles that challenge light, and he became subhuman, challenging Light.
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9
Kiriaki Olivia Eleni Mada-lozi from Piraeus Greece Billy ugly Marcia, Sherry Shriki, Darni, Judy Gim, Alb- tch, Jeff Albr.. Henry Robert W Impotent ejaculator precosē. Charles manson's advocates; Henry Robert narcissistic your sociopath psychopath nurse from hell in LA CA. You aren't above the law Poisoners sterile hainas   Susan WRat no. **** human predators human traficants to hell with you all- ratas inmundas! Emilia Velazquez thief IHSS should put you in jail And immigration take your green card stealing my savings and stimulus money cashed. Shame on you rata inmunda ladrona. Filthy rats Creeping animals **** of life Shoddy monstrosity. Subhuman Spectres of Hell **** vermins How much damaged you've done to me and my daughter's Poisoning them with hallucinogenic metamphetamins psychotropics without them knowing Then, blackmailing them to give up their parental rights to sterile haenas jealous medeas Add insult to injury to my family forcing psychiatric pill intake to hide your ancient crimes Your hate crime is now public susan ra-t-ano hell ***** You bought my grown daughter from the human predators I had escaped from 1982. Coward filthy **** ***** Vermin word raitano Poisonous serpent Waste of life I hate you and despise you. Two-legged rats I'm talking to you all because creeping creatures, even being the most cursed, compared to your evildoers vermin human predators, a creeping snake stands taller than you all. **** leeches **** cockraoches you who infects with bites, who hurts and who kills. Slanders trashing whoever is holy good and precious You Vermin Poisonous serpents Waste of life I hate you and despise you. I bind to you all my motherly pain I curse you in every life time. Two-legged filthy rats, I'm talking to you! because a creeping creature, even being the most cursed and ugly, in hell, on Earth unwelcome in heaven, compared to you **** brains. stands much taller. You're listening to me useless Hyena of Hell How much I hate you and despise you! **** leech **** cockraoch you who infects with bites, who hurts and who kills. Vermin Poisonous serpents In everyone's paradise. Waste of life I hate you and despise you. Two-legged my filthy rats I'm talking to you too ***** donors madalozi charms.bos henry welonek. because a creeping creature, even being the most cursed compared to you You stand even smaller. ~~~~~~~ Repost. By Paquita del Barrio And Karijinbba. 1976-present All Rights.
0
Mar 8, 2021
Mar 8, 2021 at 9:35 PM UTC
karijinbba
Henry R W. ElizabethWG Susan W Rat no Arthur R
Kiriaki Olivia Eleni Mada-lozi from Piraeus Greece Billy ugly Marcia, Sherry Shriki, Darni, Judy Gim, Alb- tch, Jeff Albr.. Henry Robert W Impotent ejaculator precosē. Charles manson's advocates; Henry Robert narcissistic your sociopath psychopath nurse from hell in LA CA. You aren't above the law Poisoners sterile hainas   Susan WRat no. **** human predators human traficants to hell with you all- ratas inmundas! Emilia Velazquez thief IHSS should put you in jail And immigration take your green card stealing my savings and stimulus money cashed. Shame on you rata inmunda ladrona. Filthy rats Creeping animals **** of life Shoddy monstrosity. Subhuman Spectres of Hell **** vermins How much damaged you've done to me and my daughter's Poisoning them with hallucinogenic metamphetamins psychotropics without them knowing Then, blackmailing them to give up their parental rights to sterile haenas jealous medeas Add insult to injury to my family forcing psychiatric pill intake to hide your ancient crimes Your hate crime is now public susan ra-t-ano hell ***** You bought my grown daughter from the human predators I had escaped from 1982. Coward filthy **** ***** Vermin word raitano Poisonous serpent Waste of life I hate you and despise you. Two-legged rats I'm talking to you all because creeping creatures, even being the most cursed, compared to your evildoers vermin human predators, a creeping snake stands taller than you all. **** leeches **** cockraoches you who infects with bites, who hurts and who kills. Slanders trashing whoever is holy good and precious You Vermin Poisonous serpents Waste of life I hate you and despise you. I bind to you all my motherly pain I curse you in every life time. Two-legged filthy rats, I'm talking to you! because a creeping creature, even being the most cursed and ugly, in hell, on Earth unwelcome in heaven, compared to you **** brains. stands much taller. You're listening to me useless Hyena of Hell How much I hate you and despise you! **** leech **** cockraoch you who infects with bites, who hurts and who kills. Vermin Poisonous serpents In everyone's paradise. Waste of life I hate you and despise you. Two-legged my filthy rats I'm talking to you too ***** donors madalozi charms.bos henry welonek. because a creeping creature, even being the most cursed compared to you You stand even smaller. ~~~~~~~ Repost. By Paquita del Barrio And Karijinbba. 1976-present All Rights.
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78
As a child I did not know whether it was the act itself or the knowledge that I was the receptacle for malevolence and cruelty that made me so vulnerable. At first I thought it was God's punishment for something I had done. I took an inventory, desperately seeking the deed that triggered the retribution. But I could not identify a single act. Even my accumulated errors, transgressions and unkindness’s did not exact the cost. Then I understood: if I could not isolate a deed, or pattern of deeds, commanding the punishment, it must be me. It is not what I did. It is who I was...a fundamentally, intrinsically and irredeemably bad little girl. I negotiated my adolescence and early adulthood with the mathematical symbol for "less than" (<) attached. I would like to be able to write that I am no longer negotiating my adulthood with the same mathematical symbol attached. But that would be a lie. It is pervasive. It is formidable. And if I do not keep it contained, I am so afraid it will be debilitating….I've been down that road a time or two. At times it has enveloped me, penetrating my pores and drowning everything essential and vital inside. Undisturbed, it is docile, sated. But aroused by even the slightest hint of beauty or strength or grace it is a painful reminder that I am...somehow...contemptible...that I am still fundamentally, intrinsically and incorrigibly...what? Flawed, imperfect & bad? You may say, "But we are all flawed and imperfect. And our flaws and imperfections make us more interesting...more truly beautiful...more human." And perhaps you are right, but this inexorable deprivation makes me somehow subhuman... less than human...permanently broken. I am a receptacle for malice. I skillfully deflect praise directed my way, an effort to soothe the inescapable conflict inside. Moderate praise induces a subtle twinge of embarrassment; more effusive praise incites the consuming and agonizing feeling that I am irreparably damaged, hopelessly broken. It has contaminated, compromised and diminished every accomplishment, soiled every success. People sometimes tell me that I am humble and that it is an admirable trait. But the modesty and humility they identify helps me to mask the mortification stirring inside. I have gotten so good at hiding it from others that I have nearly learned to conceal it even from myself. At least that is what it feels like...right now.
0
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 8:21 PM UTC
nitaann
It is not what "I" did...it is who "I" was...
As a child I did not know whether it was the act itself or the knowledge that I was the receptacle for malevolence and cruelty that made me so vulnerable. At first I thought it was God's punishment for something I had done. I took an inventory, desperately seeking the deed that triggered the retribution. But I could not identify a single act. Even my accumulated errors, transgressions and unkindness’s did not exact the cost. Then I understood: if I could not isolate a deed, or pattern of deeds, commanding the punishment, it must be me. It is not what I did. It is who I was...a fundamentally, intrinsically and irredeemably bad little girl. I negotiated my adolescence and early adulthood with the mathematical symbol for "less than" (<) attached. I would like to be able to write that I am no longer negotiating my adulthood with the same mathematical symbol attached. But that would be a lie. It is pervasive. It is formidable. And if I do not keep it contained, I am so afraid it will be debilitating….I've been down that road a time or two. At times it has enveloped me, penetrating my pores and drowning everything essential and vital inside. Undisturbed, it is docile, sated. But aroused by even the slightest hint of beauty or strength or grace it is a painful reminder that I am...somehow...contemptible...that I am still fundamentally, intrinsically and incorrigibly...what? Flawed, imperfect & bad? You may say, "But we are all flawed and imperfect. And our flaws and imperfections make us more interesting...more truly beautiful...more human." And perhaps you are right, but this inexorable deprivation makes me somehow subhuman... less than human...permanently broken. I am a receptacle for malice. I skillfully deflect praise directed my way, an effort to soothe the inescapable conflict inside. Moderate praise induces a subtle twinge of embarrassment; more effusive praise incites the consuming and agonizing feeling that I am irreparably damaged, hopelessly broken. It has contaminated, compromised and diminished every accomplishment, soiled every success. People sometimes tell me that I am humble and that it is an admirable trait. But the modesty and humility they identify helps me to mask the mortification stirring inside. I have gotten so good at hiding it from others that I have nearly learned to conceal it even from myself. At least that is what it feels like...right now.
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5
subhuman. desolation. desolation. discrimination. distribution It's nothing but a everlasting dynamo. Powered by anger and rage it will never cease to turn. Spawning the hatred that has conquered our race. Overcoming the mutual love that has seeped through the cracks. Defecating the morals of those immoral. Foundations that our fathers built have been destroyed. Killing the dream that is now a nightmare. Suffocating the choices that define us. Abandoning all hope, ye who enter here. Deformation of the unborn child. God. Heaven. Hell. Earth. Nature. You. Me. Them. All of us. We're all the same.
0
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 6:34 PM UTC
jeremy-duff
Chain
subhuman. desolation. desolation. discrimination. distribution It's nothing but a everlasting dynamo. Powered by anger and rage it will never cease to turn. Spawning the hatred that has conquered our race. Overcoming the mutual love that has seeped through the cracks. Defecating the morals of those immoral. Foundations that our fathers built have been destroyed. Killing the dream that is now a nightmare. Suffocating the choices that define us. Abandoning all hope, ye who enter here. Deformation of the unborn child. God. Heaven. Hell. Earth. Nature. You. Me. Them. All of us. We're all the same.
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36
We litter the earth with our beer cans, our cigarettes, our roaches... We leave our bad habits behind after we are long gone for the future generations to find. Our intoxicated actions just as bad as debris in our oceans, Our inebriated words just as harmful as the air pollution around us. The only mark we leave behind the only memory of us... Is the one trying to impress the rest of the population that remains faceless. with our stupidity and self-harm and belligerence. Our useless ability of the consumption of false courage, wisdom, and strength. We know not to take a step away and look upon ourselves and realize and see that the supposed 'advanced species' is reduced back to the primitveness and truculence we thought was long lost. We know not to take a step back and see we abuse the loved ones surrounding us Through lying, neglect, and verbal and physical attacks We forget the things that matter to us most; ambitions, hopes and dreams. Our friendships, family, and loves... It changes us as people into something subhuman It brings out the side of us that was never there; a rage and anger we have never experienced, and sometimes never realize exists. It replaces the good intents we have with ones that are selfish and harmful. The good amount of fear instilled, with false hope and courage. We not only destroy ourselves physically, But mentally, emotionally, spiritually... Some say it is all a spiritual journey, and of course it can be, but when so abused and the supply so decimated, It's digging your own grave.
0
May 30, 2010
May 30, 2010 at 8:14 PM UTC
dani-a
This generation.
We litter the earth with our beer cans, our cigarettes, our roaches... We leave our bad habits behind after we are long gone for the future generations to find. Our intoxicated actions just as bad as debris in our oceans, Our inebriated words just as harmful as the air pollution around us. The only mark we leave behind the only memory of us... Is the one trying to impress the rest of the population that remains faceless. with our stupidity and self-harm and belligerence. Our useless ability of the consumption of false courage, wisdom, and strength. We know not to take a step away and look upon ourselves and realize and see that the supposed 'advanced species' is reduced back to the primitveness and truculence we thought was long lost. We know not to take a step back and see we abuse the loved ones surrounding us Through lying, neglect, and verbal and physical attacks We forget the things that matter to us most; ambitions, hopes and dreams. Our friendships, family, and loves... It changes us as people into something subhuman It brings out the side of us that was never there; a rage and anger we have never experienced, and sometimes never realize exists. It replaces the good intents we have with ones that are selfish and harmful. The good amount of fear instilled, with false hope and courage. We not only destroy ourselves physically, But mentally, emotionally, spiritually... Some say it is all a spiritual journey, and of course it can be, but when so abused and the supply so decimated, It's digging your own grave.
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22
Disturbed to my core Worried about the colors of rainbow Equality of love Justice to see women and men for who they truly are Despite their physical nature Terrified for the ***** teenage girls And their children born to be despised and abandoned Hardworking imigrant parents Poor starving civilians in Syria And their children under the bomb attacks Jails overflowing with innocent people All the poor children who will fall through the cracks Never cared for by neither parents nor the system I am terrified that the world can be so affected By nonsense proclamations Of a narcissistic subhuman To whom life is but a reality show How the **** did this happen?
0
Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 12:49 AM UTC
l-seagull
****
Disturbed to my core Worried about the colors of rainbow Equality of love Justice to see women and men for who they truly are Despite their physical nature Terrified for the ***** teenage girls And their children born to be despised and abandoned Hardworking imigrant parents Poor starving civilians in Syria And their children under the bomb attacks Jails overflowing with innocent people All the poor children who will fall through the cracks Never cared for by neither parents nor the system I am terrified that the world can be so affected By nonsense proclamations Of a narcissistic subhuman To whom life is but a reality show How the **** did this happen?
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18
Street by street we will fight death before dishonour how many will the Reds take while my Berlin falls How many rapes make justice you sad sick ***** you Russian subhuman **** **** the third and **** me You ******* rapists you Stalinist **** I still hate you today as I was young, with a gun You ******** were no better both you're nations were **** and I will hate for ever now till one day all of you have gone This country is not your country why do you fight your war here our town has almost gone to ruin and both my mother and father have died By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris;
0
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 1:28 AM UTC
christos-andreas-kourtis
The Road To Berlin
Street by street we will fight death before dishonour how many will the Reds take while my Berlin falls How many rapes make justice you sad sick ***** you Russian subhuman **** **** the third and **** me You ******* rapists you Stalinist **** I still hate you today as I was young, with a gun You ******** were no better both you're nations were **** and I will hate for ever now till one day all of you have gone This country is not your country why do you fight your war here our town has almost gone to ruin and both my mother and father have died By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris;
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21
Forced to wear a sign, To declare their private lives, To make themselves subhuman, And unwittingly let evil thrive, And now we say we wear it well, As a symbol of passion and pride, Very few remember the struggles, Or give thanks to those who died.
0
Aug 31, 2012
Aug 31, 2012 at 7:47 PM UTC
simon-clark
Pink Triangle
Forced to wear a sign, To declare their private lives, To make themselves subhuman, And unwittingly let evil thrive, And now we say we wear it well, As a symbol of passion and pride, Very few remember the struggles, Or give thanks to those who died.
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8
The drapes in your skull and your sunken in eyes, who has broken you? - Collarbones protruding from your withered chest and your lungs heave for one breath- one breath too many. - The stress of the days, and the strawberry blonde boy you fell in love with on the countryside. Your heart is broken. - Slumped in the cracked city you are forced to call home, and the loved ones who have passed but whom are not dead. - Ridiculing the creeping insects looking for a home. ***** gross, worthless* You realize. That's what they call you - Sun setting a forcefully pale orange, awakening the night. Time for your dismay to set. - Light your cigarette and ash it on your skin, amazed by its burn. Pain? None. - An insomniac's racing mind and all the wonders of the world. Waiting, time contemplating. - Wishfully disappearing just like your soul did.
0
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 5:28 PM UTC
caitie
Subhuman
The drapes in your skull and your sunken in eyes, who has broken you? - Collarbones protruding from your withered chest and your lungs heave for one breath- one breath too many. - The stress of the days, and the strawberry blonde boy you fell in love with on the countryside. Your heart is broken. - Slumped in the cracked city you are forced to call home, and the loved ones who have passed but whom are not dead. - Ridiculing the creeping insects looking for a home. ***** gross, worthless* You realize. That's what they call you - Sun setting a forcefully pale orange, awakening the night. Time for your dismay to set. - Light your cigarette and ash it on your skin, amazed by its burn. Pain? None. - An insomniac's racing mind and all the wonders of the world. Waiting, time contemplating. - Wishfully disappearing just like your soul did.
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41
A Flemish girl here this season with the sun still got her tan with alabaster lotion and coconuts while her gratis was her navel shone lustrous that subhuman portrayed their South Beach fine indeed
0
Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 10:02 AM UTC
poetman
Nina
A Flemish girl here this season with the sun still got her tan with alabaster lotion and coconuts while her gratis was her navel shone lustrous that subhuman portrayed their South Beach fine indeed
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17
wordsmithing virus lyric twisting lines empirically like British empire builders treating native speakers subhuman / reading worn cliché daily lamenting regurgitated form and style while smiling at the beguiling nature of multisyllabic structure ~ it’s easy to forget (in a legalization nation) that the idea of utilizing parentheticals is really just using parenthesis ~ creating space between the artist and the reader is pretentiousness personified / it is our job to play Ishmael and take them with us not leave them shore bound watching the speck of sail slip into the stratosphere ~ come with me lend me your hand more importantly your eyes and an open mind ~ then we can journey together /
0
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 4:32 PM UTC
s-lyman-temple
the poet's job
wordsmithing virus lyric twisting lines empirically like British empire builders treating native speakers subhuman / reading worn cliché daily lamenting regurgitated form and style while smiling at the beguiling nature of multisyllabic structure ~ it’s easy to forget (in a legalization nation) that the idea of utilizing parentheticals is really just using parenthesis ~ creating space between the artist and the reader is pretentiousness personified / it is our job to play Ishmael and take them with us not leave them shore bound watching the speck of sail slip into the stratosphere ~ come with me lend me your hand more importantly your eyes and an open mind ~ then we can journey together /
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30
this self-loathing is too much for me to bare. i mean i bare everything: the actions, the words, the snickers with an inflamed chest. and the struggle cannot be conquered; i am no soldier, no fighter - subhuman. i struggle for a sense of purpose like an infected toilet brush or maybe a half-chewed pencil eraser. quality beats quantity but i cannot quantify how many tears i have shed or the glass-stained memories that leave ****** scratches on mind. all along there was no end to this journey, but shattered dreams paint a more vivid picture than happiness ever could.
0
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC
j-juarez
stolen
this self-loathing is too much for me to bare. i mean i bare everything: the actions, the words, the snickers with an inflamed chest. and the struggle cannot be conquered; i am no soldier, no fighter - subhuman. i struggle for a sense of purpose like an infected toilet brush or maybe a half-chewed pencil eraser. quality beats quantity but i cannot quantify how many tears i have shed or the glass-stained memories that leave ****** scratches on mind. all along there was no end to this journey, but shattered dreams paint a more vivid picture than happiness ever could.
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16