"subjugated" poems
The Ogre does what ogres can,
Deeds quite impossible for Man,
But one prize is beyond his reach,
The Ogre cannot master Speech:
About a subjugated plain,
Among its desperate and slain,
The Ogre stalks with hands on hips,
While drivel gushes from his lips.
8.6k
I last saw her in Santiago
******* drunkenly in a Sub urban taverna
parading conceited pride in a twisted union
with that ******** heinous maniacal harlequin
each in vainglorious throes of their imagined septic mindfuck
Debauch celebration of collaboration of succubus and incubus
Some days she is saying Haloa in Hawaii
adorned as Sainti Maria the ***** now as Madonna
spewing words like a dove acting like a Nun in a Convent
the fiendess with two faces hiding her ****** like the ace in lace
the malignant serpent crawling in the duality of her neurosis
I last saw her in Santiago
In a sanctity of the poisoned insecures with exiguous minds
consumed with flaming fears she begs acceptance for inclusion
******* for percieved reflected glory from her fathers' jailers
The subjugated souls of chai wallah lives on in grandchildren
So when Santi Maria flirts from honey to beehive
Ready to ***** and part thighs and brain for minor pointing gun
Feel sorry for a damaged child devoid of a prime core never made
only obeisance to past rulers whose discarded cast-offs she wears
Her poems enchants but its virulent tools she takes in her body
I last saw her in Santiago
A slaved two-faced pretender who sings like a nightingale
In sub urban dives she postrates to friendly pats and gropes
Melting creeps and hot tigers begging subs for a heady drink
Brilliant yet blindsided to **** on knees as her children will too
Copyright@LaurenceA20thSept2018Allrightsreserved.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 9:03 PM UTC
When education was restricted
They ran to religion
When solace was stripped away
They ran to martyrdom
Loved ones fell
Hated ones rose
As hearts sank
To the depths of the maelstrom
Fueled by the unholy trinity
Value, vindication, and violence
Bombs decimate Afghan villages
With the precision
Of a needle hitting a vein
And as casually
As a contractor putting a dollar in his pocket
The rubble of their town
Lost in a mist of dust
The rubble of their minds
Lost in a mist of vengeance
The rabid dog chases the subjugated raccoon
The raccoon discovers a sacred hole and hides in it
The predator attempts to encroach the void
The raccoon quivers in it's sanctuary shelter
Finding relief as the hound becomes stuck
And laughs as the infected beast starves to death
But ecstasy turns to terror
As the raccoon realizes it's only way out of this hole
Is being blocked by the gargantuan corpse
Terror turns to sorrow
As the raccoon starves to death
Alone
In the dark
It's holy land now hell
For once it had protected the raccoon from unbridled rabies
But since the hound's death
It's Cerberus size obstructs all progression
Holes become graves
And prey are left to pray
For someone to drop a bomb and clear a path
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 4:45 AM UTC
You think you know me.
I think I know you.
We know nothing
As we move forward
Slouched in our office chairs of despair
Some moving full throttle, the others stay still
Still
All in the same place
All at the same level
The illusion of movement
Competitiveness run amok and awry
An experiment gone wrong
An experiment in our endless longing, our search
Our eventual journey
As we seek greatness and perfection
While shattering the thought of it.
We have been taught to question
Questions bring greatness
Greatness is what we long for
Greatness has been subjugated
No longer an aspiration, but a trade
Not a product of inspiration
But a product of greed
Art is dead
Love is dead
All is dead
What once was an abstract concept
Is now concrete
And invisible
Nothing
A black hole
Constructed from the shattered hopes and dreams
Of millenials and those who felt like we do throughout history
What does "millenial" mean anyway?
In every context it encapsulates
Consumerism
Greed
Selfishness
Hypocrisy
Art is dead
Love is dead
All is dead
And we killed it
We dealt the death blow.
We lack heart
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with greatness
Greatness comes from accomplishments
Accomplishments come from knowledge
Knowledge comes from aspiration
Aspiration comes from inspiration
Inspiration...
comes from the metaphysical heart
The hollow men had no soul
and neither do we
We lean together
We do not embrace
We do not take the next steps
Only leaning
We lack what we need to see it through
We are incapable of maintaining relationships.
For our stamina is gone
In its place, divorce, infidelity,
shallowness
relationships based on looks and dreams
dreams of perfection
based on the wrong definition
We are the hollow men
We are hollow
We are... despairing
Despair
why would we despair?
if we did not care?
are we then hollow?
if we worry,
is that not out of concern?
is concern
not out of love?
does love...
not stem from the heart?
Sometimes I wonder
Can you still have a heart
If you have a mind in the way?
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
scars of a past I wanted nothing to do with
led me to handcuff myself
to a lampole for security.
I had reached my consensus.
I threw the keys to these cuffs
in mental portals where I thought
no one would dare to ever travel.
Many tried searching
but I intentionally
obstructed access
with deceptive rants of fear and caution.
By then
I was sure
that I had thoroughly built walls of security;
I was safe
...but who would've thought
my aesthetically intellectual design
had a weakness?
The enemy came just as they all did,
hoping to be let in...
but this one reacted differently when the ranting came;
I was now at a disadvantage
because I had no other alternatives for defense.
The enemy showed no care for my security;
It was attractive
And I succumbed while
Never forgetting my plan
Although it seemed my design was nugatory.
My mental lampole and cuffs,
gone.
I was left subjugated
at the feet of a queen
who carried an aura
with the most beautiful spectrum.
Like a bull snake,
promises of security
grappled my core,
draining it of all fear
leaving behind no traces
of deception.
Although defeated,
she still remains my enemy
because serendipity
never seems to stick around.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 11:33 PM UTC
The tightness and the nilness round that space
when the car stops in the road, the troops inspect
its make and number and, as one bends his face
towards your window, you catch sight of more
on a hill beyond, eyeing with intent
down cradled guns that hold you under cover
and everything is pure interrogation
until a rifle motions and you move
with guarded unconcerned acceleration—
a little emptier, a little spent
as always by that quiver in the self,
subjugated, yes, and obedient.
So you drive on to the frontier of writing
where it happens again. The guns on tripods;
the sergeant with his on-off mike repeating
data about you, waiting for the squawk
of clearance; the marksman training down
out of the sun upon you like a hawk.
And suddenly you're through, arraigned yet freed,
as if you'd passed from behind a waterfall
on the black current of a tarmac road
past armor-plated vehicles, out between
the posted soldiers flowing and receding
like tree shadows into the polished windscreen.
3.5k
1084
At Half past Three, a single Bird
Unto a silent Sky
Propounded but a single term
Of cautious melody.
At Half past Four, Experiment
Had subjugated test
And lo, Her silver Principle
Supplanted all the rest.
At Half past Seven, Element
Nor Implement, be seen—
And Place was where the Presence was
Circumference between.
3k
I sought satisfaction in stupid sheepishly and shallow strides.
Scared subconsciously, I swallow and sustain substance for pseudo self esteem strengthening.
I seemed of in service to slumber and stinging sadness, shots sank like ships, submerging into the sea of my swarthy stomach in seconds.
I somewhat sympathies as a sailor, sweating, struggling and swimming in slipping sobriety saturated in my sulking style.
Scanning swarms of serial swindlers, striking sculptures stances of self-doubt.
I stammer in a storm of slurs, ******* down my safety, stopping myself at the stoop of the saloon I see a seductive silhouette staging the space.
She stroke my sight, standing sanguine in scarlet, soul sold in high heels.
The smoothest sculptures in seven square miles were subjugated into scree and I was ****** in submission.
Stubborn staggering suitors, stand shaking silently as she is stopped by sharks stalking and snarling sycophantics.
So straightforward in suggesting their secret starvation to strip sensations, seem by seem, like a sub-par **** cinema scene.
They step and speak short.
She smokes off, stranding the scree in smoldering slaughter.
Its sad this soul-less sanctuary soaking up sorrows.
So self inflicting, and so satisfyingly side splitting.
She sported her spurned, scorned off into sadistic solitude and stained sticky stigma, sobbing to sleep.
So spent from simple stocked, stored and supported senescence of ceremonial subjection of ****** status.
I savior my sincerity, and stretched out of this strange stadium of stooges.
So long scarlet sanguine I sang softly, as she stole my sight suspiciously in sync with hers.
Sacrificial seconds split from smearing stolidity to sharing a smile.
That's simple satisfaction, so I seen scripted in sitcoms and shows.
Supporting sapiens in stasis to see sappy stunners on screen, to stare snoopy, as stabs and slashes strike socially into socialites of so called sanity and sovereignty.
To sweetly pay salvage as slaves of soppy studio slander.
Such is this sorry Saturday night, I am solidified in sedation.
Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
Subjugated by the
Not-so-loyal subjects:
Mind | Body | Spirit
Incongruencies
None knowing their place
Poor leadership
I'll bet I can mind my way to a better place
Better try
Plutocracy
So I grant citizenship
To my cunning and intellect
It works but
After a time vibrancy
Fades
So I call in Spirit
In the spirit of Theocracy
Spiritual matters prevail
But I've forgotten to eat
For two days
So I give Body
A seat at the table
Now we have a democracy
Or do we?
Remnants of the Plutocracy
Gave cunning a vote
So we reorganize
Into a meritocracy
< - - 3 pools - - >
Mind ~ Body ~ Spirit
3 votes
Something still isn't working
So I ruminate
Think
Pray
Chastise
And turn things upside
Down
A king should be subjugated
The best leadership
Is invisible
A
True leader
Follows
Their own path
I (the person) am ground
I am the intersect
I am the crossroads for
Mind ~ Body ~ Spirit
I am the King
And
I
Follow
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 10:37 PM UTC
Being silent was best
Ham is strong and he threatened me
with a fatal accident
Then there was a child
Oh, my dear husband
the tireless
naturalist of the fermented juice
of sweet grapes
His old age has been tarnished
by that made-up anecdote
which hid the rapes
under a moment of shamelessness
But the punishment betrays it
anyway, the eternal curse
from the first scream
of the baby, innocent
Canaan, my youngest son
His generations to generation
subjugated and squeezed to death
in the purple lowlands
Jun 19, 2022
Jun 19, 2022 at 3:55 AM UTC
billboard's calligraph --
past the haze of Manila infested
by car sprawls and belching machines.
magnanimous treatise of tarpaulins,
people chin-up asking God
with askance
something like this
"o god make this bearable
like a mound of fresh fruits
from ****** labour."
maniacal sensurround:
earth-shattering frequency
of footsteps trampling the mouth
of monolith shadows - the peak
of this quake is our complete silence.
rain's catharsis in effect
sousing us in the blood of unreal light.
this diastolic shrinkage
jamming the beat of constricting vessels.
the adrenaline surges
within the dermis of this pretension.
a collective of tired beings heeding
the recherché of voice metamorphosing
into form, a dagger-butterfly
paring us skin to bone, cranial
to visceral, soul to nothing -
catapult of a trajectory spit
plummeting in eased-up pace
from Taft Avenue flyover
to a subjugated wagon of scraps
and empty wine bottles.
today's paper reads:
"Palace hits hiring
of **** dancers"
fancying to fall right in the
spanked curved of this
insatiate melodrama - something
prayer could not save from
this land's mutinous ignominy.
we resume to fulfill our madness,
hundreds of tack-headed people
rolling down the streets of Makati,
drenched with rain's trilling aftermath.
squinting to look at
no sun, only the grieving of skyscrape,
thumbing down unidentified objects
in the depth of loose pockets,
desperate for home.
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 12:39 AM UTC
Whether drops of dew
Able diminish fire spark up in our home land?
Whether rice boil in well-off houses
Served the requirement of subjugated one of our home land?
Whether peace installed in meeting hall
Spread to countryside of our home land?
Everyone is in shrunken
With devastation malevolence’s follower,
Who dream that, they will make everything golden!
Therefore, my grandmother said
“We are just with soil, water and air
Don’t dream about gold or silver, it will wipe out your vigour to survive!
Go for vocation to nurture soil;
Bring in water, profoundly breath air...
You will grow along with other!”
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 3:36 AM UTC
There’s a sage at the doorway
Negating affinity as a leeway.
He never spoke to me though he’s there
I shunned the thought lest I did care.
Grew up in envy
To those – they never saw right through me;
How I yearned for that man’s attention
And from others’ sage I longed discretion.
A battle occupied his thought,
A war seldom won, constantly fought.
For such warrior was taken abashed
Looked at me, ‘I can’t take you back.’
Grounded within me was the silence,
Left and right I sought for solace.
Never sure if could amount to anything in his eyes,
Until I found out he too was never sought off despite.
Desperate - in a sense
As I took hold of a pretense;
Had not the Divine stoop down to reclaim
What I had yearned for the sage, I blamed.
A treble in my throat croaked, “Father”
Despite holding grudge I never bothered
Spoke nor utter a thought in my mind.
There, I froze with teeth to the grind.
Truth encountered my despot idealism,
Tried hard to renounce the criticism.
It’s weight – truth only subjugated my hate;
“Love – unless you embrace it, cannot placate”
Fell on my knees, armor exhausted itself around,
Wrung over my shoulders arms of the One who found
Me clinging on the border of insight and despair,
Only His Will my broken, calloused heart molds into repair.
I glanced back at the sage, I met yearning eyes,
Sought he, his worth for me and found no despise.
All along, had I known, he too was a broken and contrite;
Would not I, received much bestow what is right?
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC
Independence and autonomy are subjugated by the transnational bourgeoise; and a colorful Mediterranean cuisine is not dissimilar to the Machiavellian arrays of contemporary propaganda.
Therein lurks a traumatic bonding from the origins of Stockholm, which is characterised by a cryptogram of questionable empathy.
It truly is a lucrative business, oh hamster on the wheel of dissociative conformity. Have a consultation appointment with Salvatore Lucania of La Cosa Nostra.
We are boiling in a fascinating and central superintendence. Therefore, my weary and ego-dystonic figment of contemporary virtual relationship: Do not express allegiance to your captor.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:48 PM UTC
Maybe your mothers and fathers do not know right from wrong
Maybe those that birth you cannot tell real from unreal
The apples do not fall far from the trees that we know all along
So no surprise when off-springs and all fall into the reel
Unable to decipher the lost and damaged from their midst adorn
My mother washed me in truth, honesty, sincerity and real love
That's the only path that graces the soul and makes humanity
So all my life I know what's real, true, honest from all else above
You walk your path and serve your gods in all their profanity
Your festered minds and putrid brains is not like mine thereof
In superficial abodes, your falseness lies fakery has confused you
No truth or honesty exists all around only deceits and raw fear
You rot from the inside and feed from poison not breastmilk too
from start you're ****** your brains from chemicals they rear
Spooks with semblance no substance, serving satan them born fools
I know what's real what's true what's honest and sincere or not
That is me from real bosoms raised in edifying values not falsity
Come in thousands you stink from a mile off satan demons squat
Sincerity truthfulness if erred makes amends not sit discordantly
Real Humanity embraces love and peace not mortal duels that's fact
From negativity you drink in darkness lies your bread and joy
miseries and fears you seek to share cause your souls lies in pain
In cancerous fears you scheme and plot your ****** evils ploys
Cause it destroys you to see goodness whilst your souls' in chain
Weak corrupted dark and damaged subjugated to lucifers noise
Gnarled old wrinkled before your years you envy my young looks
Borne of inner joy and unafraid pious calm pathetics spit zombie
Too sick to know a clear conscience never pines or fears like crooks
Pure and noble emotions caters no dirt or negativities like loonies
Dignity and integrity offers granite to malevolent duds and hooks
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 10:16 AM UTC
Alas, awakened to the glorious smell
Of grieving petrichor and lichen
Intoxicating scents of spells,
Has left my thoughts forsaken.
Aggrieved, unclean,
I wash myself in the river,
Alone again, once with my mind,
The cold water does bring a quiver.
Rushing gently across its bend,
Its current does drag along
A heartache inside a massive depth,
A misery that floods it anon.
It seeks to help wash stains of past,
Blood from mistakes without thought,
Caressing my hands as I dip them in,
It cleans at the souls I’ve wrought.
I’ve brought spite to all I’ve been,
I bathe in hatred and stigmata,
Correctional growth of paradigmatic folly,
Proves equality to tumultuous fodder.
-
There has been death here,
Drowning and sickness,
Villainous nature subjugated
To corruption and bleakness.
Disparaging remarks whispered of men,
Bring to light lost life and love,
Discouraging thoughts of mine herein,
Anticlimactic and soulless above.
The trees began to whisper,
Moving slightly in the breeze,
I thought I would move quicker,
But something that couldn’t trapped me.
-
Bringing about a fallout cloud
That kept my mind thus smoked,
It is hard to cherish anything
That the water itself could soak.
-
I wanted to leave,
But I was locked in the wood,
I began to need it,
Like any Stockholm would
The treasure trove in which I was kept,
Was something of a fairy-tale
It hid monsters, death,
And only one nightingale.
Its swansong allowed me to sleep,
Gorgeous at night, it cast in weep,
A story of one so scared, The fear of bleeding out
One day upon the growing creep.
Vines and lies surrounded me,
Its whole existence was false,
Nothing could be this natural,
And the dead forest scoffed.
-
Could there be someone else here?
Doubtful, I began my search,
Through vasts I spied, time again,
But nothing upon this earth.
The forest fell in love with my heart,
Its emotions curious to her,
She tortured me with affection,
My reality was blurred.
I found my way across her floor,
Trekking miles to a never-end.,
Purgatory does not know this pain,
Hopeless abandon, fell unto myself to fend.
A trip, a fall, unique and random,
I impaled myself with a sharp cry,
A sharp palisade jutting out, I then whispered
“What if I don’t want to die?”
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 4:15 PM UTC
Centuries far ago
In the African state of Congo
Trespassed by the heartless whites
Civilizing the blacks, against their rights
They invaded them under a false pretence
They shattered humanism’s true essence
Several men decayed, as malnourished
For being skinned in charcoal colour they were punished
The invaders sowed the seeds to racism
It grew larger using euphemism
It all spread like a malicious talk
Darkness bowed when the white flesh would walk
Subjugated with iron chains the slaves marched
With empty stomachs and throats parched
Killed unmercifully if they refused a task
After all, the devil resided behind the white mask
They looted several nations
Leaving behind schools and railway stations
But who would benefit from development of this kind?
In the darkness, hearts had turned blind
Oh, one day back then it all changed
Hearts pumped louder through the ribs that were caged
Unleashing those iron chains they chased;
Till those heartless masters felt disgraced
The dark cloak of slavery burnt to dust
While freedom of sunshine sparkled on all the rust
Each enslaved human fought for what is right
No one could dare to break their might
Blood was shed on both sides
But they didn’t cease their stride
Back then they made them flee
But those racist seeds flew across seas
The darkness never prevails
From one land to another it sails
Only the goodness in one’s soul,
Can take the darkness for a toll!
-Zainab Attari
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
Exuberant ecstatic rapture
Sardonic denigrating quip
Joisting up an oaken rafter
The cabin of a sailing ship
Lucid eloquent recumbence
Surreal retrospective grace
Endless ocean’s myriad turbulence
Infinity would set it’s pace
Imbue spontaneous induction
Exude efficient transience
Exhort the mystic symbiotic construction
For the course of our intransigence
Litigant ludicrous licentiousness
Coquettish audacious impunity
Lecherous libidos atrocious impertinence
Would pound id’s shore horrendously
Derisive subjugated nuance
Extol intrinsic unity
Nebulous wisps of shaded quiescence
With breeze and sky make harmony
Predilect effluent effusion
Tenacious taubla tapestry
Alleviate the torrential confusion
Acquire efficience for flights symmetry
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 12:39 PM UTC
The darkened corners of forgotten yesterdays clouded the view as the gaping maw of need stared across the chasm at necessity . Almost as if there was a reason for it’s contiguous constituency it reflected the myriad animations of it’s creator . Crystalline forms in infinite diversity beyond the subjective sublimations of mass crowded the integral forms of it’s subjugated spontaneities perversions as the well of it’s unity sang of the cause for it’s being .
The single-mindedness of it’s recumbent beginnings were all but lost to the ramifications of itself as the children of it’s repulsion waxed and waned .
The twinkling of an eye , the integration of ages , countless extrapolations of it’s *********** vanished into the nature of their being as the tainted refuse of their wanton progressions began their mutual processions back to the source , or wandered through the surrealistic ethereum of their eternally predestined nothingness .
Causalities purity reigned as all became the reason for it’s own creation , and vanished into the implosion of it’s own ***********
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 3:54 AM UTC
Intoxicated with
'Might is right! '
The moral dwarfs,
With beefed up muscles
And iron fists,
Drove home fright
Killing and leeching
Alienated natives
Day and night!
They brutally
Subjugated many,
With bare hands,
For God-given freedom
Who have to fight!
Up on gaining
Back freedom
Revolted by
'An eye for an eye! '
Mandela the moral giant
Declared
"Retaliation what for
and why?
A moral dwarf, like
Ex-bosses,
Degrade myself must I?
Though I was robbed of
Sunlight from a lullaby
Almost to the day
I die!
The 'peace and considerateness'
Placard is what we must
Worldwide hover high!
All of us are on our way out
Let us make sure
Behind us we leave
Days bright!
Also we must not forget
Among the white
The presence of
The moral giants
Who fight for
Blacks' right!"
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 10:34 AM UTC
You can't believe this happened
You fell into the trap
You never believed that it would happen like that
You said it would be different
But it's very much the same
And now you'll do anything to erase all the pain
It brings back memories best forgotten
It makes a grown woman fall apart
And become the little girl you still are at heart
It brings you back to when it used to happen all the time
When you would live in fear of when you would be subjugated to the crime
You remember the memories so well suppressed
The ones you can't bare to get off of your chest
And to think this is all because of some little game
Something that you don't look at the same
He didn't mean to hurt you, or at least that's what you think
But just one violent touch makes you fall back and shrink
He unknowingly caused a trigger that started everything else
All those memories once forgotten have found their way off of the shelf
You need a way to escape before you self destruct
Because the crying and the screaming just make you feel amuck
You find a savior in someone else willing to lend an ear
Never really knowing exactly what they're in to hear
They learn just how you're damaged
And more of why you are the way you are
They try to make you smile
To see the future is alright to bear
They help you through the pain a little at a time
Until you can contain it again and put it away like you are fine
But you just wait for the next time that this will all happen again
Because you know you aren't as well composed as you tell your friend
You can't be after what happened--your whole world is shaken up
A once good guy became a bad guy before you could say enough is enough
This makes you feel like the lowest of the low
Like you've fallen into someone's trap
Because you always told yourself you would be better than that
Now you're not so sure and you'll probably never be
All you can do is hope and pray that you are smarter than you think.
Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 2:23 AM UTC
You would have me play their games
conform to their ideals
take their tests and obey
obey their wishes obey their authority
You would have me forfeit my
individuality, essence, mind, soul
you would wish me to walk
the walk of the waking dead
open eyes unseeing, open ears deafened
by their voices, ranting, raving, gibbering
salivating, drooling, gnashing their teeth
in anticipation of consuming my
hopes, dreams, morals, conscience
but
I refuse you and your lies
I refuse to be one of the flock
I refuse to be subjugated
I refuse your will
I refuse to live how you see fit
I refuse to passively accept your burdens and your problems
I AM ME I AM MYSELF AND I AM I
You will never lay claim to me
I REFUSE
Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 12:10 PM UTC
50’s beach party
complete with twitchy go-go dancers
leather jackets
and old Plymouths
sand kicked in the faces of squares
as little Suzie Goodtime roller skates across the parking lot
picket fences shift from white to orange and pink
as they capture the sunset on a perfect American day –
free lovers swing signs
written in crayon
attempting to challenge the establishment
create world peace
through **** abuse and music in the park
subjugated and relegated to building a retirement platform
aged hipsters look at faded photographs
imagining a time they changed the all –
blown out coke head
bent on disco ***** and easy living
watches as Miami explodes
CIA operatives feeding high grade dope
to low rent projects
in an effort to funnel money and guns
into the Middle East –
gas wars and brokers as billionaires
death to glam rock and hairspray
the rise of bling and swag
selfies take center stage
unabashed introversion
as the skies are geometric grids
and the crops **** pollinators –
looking over a lifetime
of altering perception
and changing habits
the habitual nature of humanity
shines as a solid base from which all else stems
forced to recognize my own place in the septic tank
I stand as an observer and documenter
cleverly bending the woes
of the world
into words
for the lost –
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 3:54 PM UTC