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"tumorous" poems
On the land molded by footsteps and ruled by obnoxiously bleached clowns, Visited by swarms of neighborhood guttersnipes and the opulent from uptown. Allured by the traditional Irish circus music and the grinding of rusted gears, To arrive at dawn and to leave only when the night sky is tired of fireworks and flares. Skittish and gleaming eyes would roll on the floor, struck by daze and lost in wonderment, At the marvel of giant steel rides and god forsaken and socially foretoken genetic mutants. The word of a woman with two faces and the boy with a tail would make any catholic priest run. Amusing the rational ones, alongside the man with elastic skin and the girl with the forked tongue. The opera lady with outlandish proportions and tumorous lips sings to break a piece of cheap glassware. Little do people know,that the magician’s red gloves are actually stained with blood of rabbit that disappeared. Their noses get caught in the medley of fragrances from the exotic perfumes shop, Blended with the saccharine tang from the stall that sells candy floss and soda pops. Indulging over the overly priced confectioneries at the stall of the baker with the forbidding grin. Try it a hundred times,try it a thousand,you’ll never get the fifth one right in the game of rings. People will come out screaming from the haunted house,only to laugh about it later, Little do they know,that skeletons that drove them pale and white couldn't get any realer. They’ll jostle and struggle to make their way through the crowd to various rides and attractions. Hustling to navigate through the maze the carnival is, encountered by countless illusions. And once your body wears out and senses give in,that’s when you've truly entered the carnival state of mind. Your ears stinging ,nose stifled,tongue baffled, eyes exhausted,and your sense of judgment blinded. That’s when my masked act begins,the most profitable act at the carnival, Diving into the heart of the crowd,to draw an act of brilliance lasting an ephemeral. Slithering across the crowd in a different disguise every hour,concealed by stealth. Sneaking into every nook and corner and slipping my furtive hands into your pockets for a little bit of wealth. Only to dine with the clowns and the carnival family at the haunted house at the end of the day. And of course, rabbits for dinner,if the baker may
0
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 3:13 AM UTC
Carnival
On the land molded by footsteps and ruled by obnoxiously bleached clowns, Visited by swarms of neighborhood guttersnipes and the opulent from uptown. Allured by the traditional Irish circus music and the grinding of rusted gears, To arrive at dawn and to leave only when the night sky is tired of fireworks and flares. Skittish and gleaming eyes would roll on the floor, struck by daze and lost in wonderment, At the marvel of giant steel rides and god forsaken and socially foretoken genetic mutants. The word of a woman with two faces and the boy with a tail would make any catholic priest run. Amusing the rational ones, alongside the man with elastic skin and the girl with the forked tongue. The opera lady with outlandish proportions and tumorous lips sings to break a piece of cheap glassware. Little do people know,that the magician’s red gloves are actually stained with blood of rabbit that disappeared. Their noses get caught in the medley of fragrances from the exotic perfumes shop, Blended with the saccharine tang from the stall that sells candy floss and soda pops. Indulging over the overly priced confectioneries at the stall of the baker with the forbidding grin. Try it a hundred times,try it a thousand,you’ll never get the fifth one right in the game of rings. People will come out screaming from the haunted house,only to laugh about it later, Little do they know,that skeletons that drove them pale and white couldn't get any realer. They’ll jostle and struggle to make their way through the crowd to various rides and attractions. Hustling to navigate through the maze the carnival is, encountered by countless illusions. And once your body wears out and senses give in,that’s when you've truly entered the carnival state of mind. Your ears stinging ,nose stifled,tongue baffled, eyes exhausted,and your sense of judgment blinded. That’s when my masked act begins,the most profitable act at the carnival, Diving into the heart of the crowd,to draw an act of brilliance lasting an ephemeral. Slithering across the crowd in a different disguise every hour,concealed by stealth. Sneaking into every nook and corner and slipping my furtive hands into your pockets for a little bit of wealth. Only to dine with the clowns and the carnival family at the haunted house at the end of the day. And of course, rabbits for dinner,if the baker may
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26
we're all armed with an appliance of emancipation we can nurture non-violent defiance in a non-compliant ethos of antiauthoritarian self-reliance we have the ability to eliminate the vestiges of imperialism and dominant dogmas that choke and impede our creativity and shackle our imagination to impotent ideologies fragmented unrealities augmented by fractures in our psyche tendrils of theology that prey upon our fear and exacerbate conditioned responses that are at once unnatural and irrational and lead inexorably to infantile expressions of regression and fantasies of an aggression rooted in the suppression of dissent and the oppression of dissidents deities as impotent as our terror of the unknown by the promise of security and prosperity a cabal of brutish thugs have erected an imaginary hierarchy and demanded our subservient obedience and reverence for this malfeasant apparatus that leeches our paychecks and robs all of our dignity while somehow retaining the illusion of liberty a delusion that festers like an open wound a tumorous ulcer oozing foul fluid into our minds blotting out our capacity for cultivating a future divorced from misanthropy so pour kerosene on this fluttering flame of revolt before it sputters out if we'd quit looking back and forth at one another rotting in the gutters checking to see if we have more to our name than our sisters and our brothers we might just muster the courage to overthrow the vapid and misguided fictions that divide and segregate us into pawns trapped in this unending rat race they've deemed the American Dream harness the revolutionary tenacity dormant in humanity's most important ***** infinite potential latent in every molecule each neuron dancing across synaptic gaps and fanning the embers of an engine that gives motion to this evolutionary frame the human brain is omnipotent
0
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 1:26 PM UTC
omnipotent
we're all armed with an appliance of emancipation we can nurture non-violent defiance in a non-compliant ethos of antiauthoritarian self-reliance we have the ability to eliminate the vestiges of imperialism and dominant dogmas that choke and impede our creativity and shackle our imagination to impotent ideologies fragmented unrealities augmented by fractures in our psyche tendrils of theology that prey upon our fear and exacerbate conditioned responses that are at once unnatural and irrational and lead inexorably to infantile expressions of regression and fantasies of an aggression rooted in the suppression of dissent and the oppression of dissidents deities as impotent as our terror of the unknown by the promise of security and prosperity a cabal of brutish thugs have erected an imaginary hierarchy and demanded our subservient obedience and reverence for this malfeasant apparatus that leeches our paychecks and robs all of our dignity while somehow retaining the illusion of liberty a delusion that festers like an open wound a tumorous ulcer oozing foul fluid into our minds blotting out our capacity for cultivating a future divorced from misanthropy so pour kerosene on this fluttering flame of revolt before it sputters out if we'd quit looking back and forth at one another rotting in the gutters checking to see if we have more to our name than our sisters and our brothers we might just muster the courage to overthrow the vapid and misguided fictions that divide and segregate us into pawns trapped in this unending rat race they've deemed the American Dream harness the revolutionary tenacity dormant in humanity's most important ***** infinite potential latent in every molecule each neuron dancing across synaptic gaps and fanning the embers of an engine that gives motion to this evolutionary frame the human brain is omnipotent
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59
Late nights spent in the depths of the Gita, Self realization nipping at my boot heals. Reading the lines of a gone, but not forgotten, Gay poet, shedding a tear to his epitaph. Death always sinks its teeth in deep, Deep into the bowels of the subconscious, Twisting and writhing through long Dead emotions, finally expiring its final breath Through the sinus cavity and out the eyes. Breakfast is no longer held in the morning, But far beyond dawn’s reach in the late afternoon, Much needed sleep is pushed off until The last minute. God bless procrastination. God bless my body, soul, consciousness, And mind. God bless those ravaged by war and hate. Trailing after sunset for that one great fix, No escape for the ones within its grasp. Naked we lay in bed, Until the noon sun kisses our cheeks. Naked we lay in our hearts, bodies, Souls, and spirits. Naked is the man who looks himself in the mirror, Only to find a corpse in the hollowed eyes that Sleep deprivation has left him. Overheated and lost in ill-repaired pipes At midnight, Loneliness creeps in like a spy to my senses. The great manifesto has seeped its way into my brain And retired in the retinas of self-loathing. Unforgiving poisons course through the veins. Strobe lights dim the senses, People in slow movements of black and white. Paying our debt, Debt that is owed to our maker From the dawn of time to the ravaged streets Of a morally degraded and ignorant, Politically correct World. Dance with me tonight. Dance in the streets with joy and madness. Dance with tumorous disease. Dance with the leper's cry. Dance with the sodomite’s urge. Dance with the looming shadows. Dance with the bigots and the profiteers. Dance with me, because we are free.
0
Mar 22, 2011
Mar 22, 2011 at 6:51 PM UTC
God Bless Procrastination: The Outcast’s Cry
Late nights spent in the depths of the Gita, Self realization nipping at my boot heals. Reading the lines of a gone, but not forgotten, Gay poet, shedding a tear to his epitaph. Death always sinks its teeth in deep, Deep into the bowels of the subconscious, Twisting and writhing through long Dead emotions, finally expiring its final breath Through the sinus cavity and out the eyes. Breakfast is no longer held in the morning, But far beyond dawn’s reach in the late afternoon, Much needed sleep is pushed off until The last minute. God bless procrastination. God bless my body, soul, consciousness, And mind. God bless those ravaged by war and hate. Trailing after sunset for that one great fix, No escape for the ones within its grasp. Naked we lay in bed, Until the noon sun kisses our cheeks. Naked we lay in our hearts, bodies, Souls, and spirits. Naked is the man who looks himself in the mirror, Only to find a corpse in the hollowed eyes that Sleep deprivation has left him. Overheated and lost in ill-repaired pipes At midnight, Loneliness creeps in like a spy to my senses. The great manifesto has seeped its way into my brain And retired in the retinas of self-loathing. Unforgiving poisons course through the veins. Strobe lights dim the senses, People in slow movements of black and white. Paying our debt, Debt that is owed to our maker From the dawn of time to the ravaged streets Of a morally degraded and ignorant, Politically correct World. Dance with me tonight. Dance in the streets with joy and madness. Dance with tumorous disease. Dance with the leper's cry. Dance with the sodomite’s urge. Dance with the looming shadows. Dance with the bigots and the profiteers. Dance with me, because we are free.
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47
I quit Cause you are not worth The sea of salted tears That spill Assaulting me You are not worth The red elixir That feeds Your distorted Vampire needs I retire Before my will expires Because I am tired Of seeing spires Of factories Smoking pollutants Choking all humans I am through With claiming That the truth Will set us free When all I see Is a bubonic plague Festering and growing Tumorous cities Of infinite stupidity I am finished There is not enough spinach To Popeye my way out So I exit stage Flesh and rage Pull back those skin pages That life was written on Letting strangers carryon As the carrions come To devour me Cause I am ******* done
0
Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 1:41 PM UTC
Untitled
attendance                                                   fumbling my entrance               array                                       passionately late            i pull off my tie                          and crashing      here without apology                  all-ready     a crowd sweated room                                   low ceiling   candy glass munching underfoot           the senses are rushed upon   fuming                                                                     lit up and strobing    with the chaotic humour                                                      and tumorous smells furious ingestion                                                  swellings       and releases       pelling and girling     with the dances          hectic music    making hero's of uz all a steaming sot lady  lands before me laughing         she climbs me  till her bare feet find ground       naked   from the waist up   her dress has fallen  into a trampled magpie tail                doughy  features unfocused     my heart is gurning with ruckus                       installed with an addicts engine          it caves and puffs for attention    these are my people   these are my people                                                                                 now that they're reached their peak of ******* inebriation                and raving chorus i am drawn imediate     into the density
0
Feb 24, 2022
Feb 24, 2022 at 11:43 AM UTC
f u m i g a t e
attendance                                                   fumbling my entrance               array                                       passionately late            i pull off my tie                          and crashing      here without apology                  all-ready     a crowd sweated room                                   low ceiling   candy glass munching underfoot           the senses are rushed upon   fuming                                                                     lit up and strobing    with the chaotic humour                                                      and tumorous smells furious ingestion                                                  swellings       and releases       pelling and girling     with the dances          hectic music    making hero's of uz all a steaming sot lady  lands before me laughing         she climbs me  till her bare feet find ground       naked   from the waist up   her dress has fallen  into a trampled magpie tail                doughy  features unfocused     my heart is gurning with ruckus                       installed with an addicts engine          it caves and puffs for attention    these are my people   these are my people                                                                                 now that they're reached their peak of ******* inebriation                and raving chorus i am drawn imediate     into the density
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27
Imagine falling out of a window or getting in a car crash, break some bones, get a few stitches, scrape some skin You'll get a cast, few bandages and anesthetic Now Imagine cancer, a tumorous mass maybe somewhere in your brain or lungs.. not even noticeable to you let alone those around you then some day there's a huge 8 pound mass right in your cerebellum... Fact of the matter is your body has produced this and it is actually trying too **** you That is what depression is like Depression isn't a sudden disaster You go through your whole life thinking your okay maybe this feeling is just apart of getting  older till one day you wake up and you wish you hadn't. All you've got is the Oxytocin blues and an appetite for Ritalin ****** to be able to face people and Prozac to make it through the day. Now can you imagine finding a cure too all the ailments of life, all the hypothetical and real problems.. something even Xanex, opiates or hallucinogens will never allow you really feel. The essence of another dancing throughout your mind, seeing significance in life even if not yours but that of another. when you find someone who makes you understand the definition of these words, when you find the one person you can't get out of your mind after taking pill after pill desperately trying to forget them, when you look at someone and can't see a flaw, when your with someone that makes you feel so much all at once that you have to stop and try to remember the last time you've actually been that happy or laughed that hard and can't think of another single moment like the one your in.. You've found your cure. Some of us don't
0
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 1:40 AM UTC
Pills
Imagine falling out of a window or getting in a car crash, break some bones, get a few stitches, scrape some skin You'll get a cast, few bandages and anesthetic Now Imagine cancer, a tumorous mass maybe somewhere in your brain or lungs.. not even noticeable to you let alone those around you then some day there's a huge 8 pound mass right in your cerebellum... Fact of the matter is your body has produced this and it is actually trying too **** you That is what depression is like Depression isn't a sudden disaster You go through your whole life thinking your okay maybe this feeling is just apart of getting  older till one day you wake up and you wish you hadn't. All you've got is the Oxytocin blues and an appetite for Ritalin ****** to be able to face people and Prozac to make it through the day. Now can you imagine finding a cure too all the ailments of life, all the hypothetical and real problems.. something even Xanex, opiates or hallucinogens will never allow you really feel. The essence of another dancing throughout your mind, seeing significance in life even if not yours but that of another. when you find someone who makes you understand the definition of these words, when you find the one person you can't get out of your mind after taking pill after pill desperately trying to forget them, when you look at someone and can't see a flaw, when your with someone that makes you feel so much all at once that you have to stop and try to remember the last time you've actually been that happy or laughed that hard and can't think of another single moment like the one your in.. You've found your cure. Some of us don't
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14
come back alive   no shade      no dark sleek  over your own boxed remains report in     to your family we'll remove the war from your shoulder hook up the soldier costume on our hallway peg return the memory of life to you we hope we can offer this ..       ..but we’ve heard tumorous stories         that   to the war boy returned                       life   no longer does stick
0
Mar 13, 2024
Mar 13, 2024 at 3:30 PM UTC
——lifeline——
It gets late as I digest what I just ate, some greasy food and horrible news. Slumber sneaks in and I barely feel it taking me against my will. In my dream I see a pudgy pale faced angry man, skin glistening with sweat and thin streaks of sick salivation sliding down the side of his plush cheeks. A rumbling voice of desperate rage vibrates congestedly from his strangely changing face. Bulbous bulges of tumorous flesh expand in random places and irregular rhythms. His eyeballs explode from constricting sockets, causing small jelly chunks of red, black, and white to fly at my wide eyes, while his mouth expands pulling back to expose many new emerging rows of sharp, small, decaying, black, brown, and yellowish teeth. His skin ruptures, stretching jaggedly in unpredictable places as he bellows angrily. Slick gore covered flesh falls from his form seeming to smoke with the putrid smell rotting roast beef. Not fully free from the last bits of human flesh the creature lunges at me, slipping slightly on the newly greased ground, but recovering just as quickly. Then just as his mouth is about to chomps down on my left arm. I awake safe from harm. My computer still blaring is now sharing terrible scenes of the latest war atrocity. There are corpses of women, men, and children with shrapnel shredded skin, even little baby bodies scattered amongst them in a crater from some local bombing. Crimson streaks trail the frail disfigured forms that family members struggle to carry away. Strangers moan in pain not physical, but spiritual, and emotional. My stomach turns as I yearn to return to sleep, cause I’d rather face a fake nightmare beast then see the horrors stretched out before me on my computer screen.
0
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 1:49 PM UTC
Untitled 48
It gets late as I digest what I just ate, some greasy food and horrible news. Slumber sneaks in and I barely feel it taking me against my will. In my dream I see a pudgy pale faced angry man, skin glistening with sweat and thin streaks of sick salivation sliding down the side of his plush cheeks. A rumbling voice of desperate rage vibrates congestedly from his strangely changing face. Bulbous bulges of tumorous flesh expand in random places and irregular rhythms. His eyeballs explode from constricting sockets, causing small jelly chunks of red, black, and white to fly at my wide eyes, while his mouth expands pulling back to expose many new emerging rows of sharp, small, decaying, black, brown, and yellowish teeth. His skin ruptures, stretching jaggedly in unpredictable places as he bellows angrily. Slick gore covered flesh falls from his form seeming to smoke with the putrid smell rotting roast beef. Not fully free from the last bits of human flesh the creature lunges at me, slipping slightly on the newly greased ground, but recovering just as quickly. Then just as his mouth is about to chomps down on my left arm. I awake safe from harm. My computer still blaring is now sharing terrible scenes of the latest war atrocity. There are corpses of women, men, and children with shrapnel shredded skin, even little baby bodies scattered amongst them in a crater from some local bombing. Crimson streaks trail the frail disfigured forms that family members struggle to carry away. Strangers moan in pain not physical, but spiritual, and emotional. My stomach turns as I yearn to return to sleep, cause I’d rather face a fake nightmare beast then see the horrors stretched out before me on my computer screen.
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93
Digging up shallow graves from The days past, however many bones Laid to rest in hollow holes And covered with tainted memories Trudging through a swampy mold Black and blurry faces being told Cast your sins in metal gold Behold your Idol, still smoldering Holding on to callous woes The wart is becoming tumorous Bleed it out into a bowl And drink up your deliverance.
0
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 12:08 AM UTC
Shade
I acquire New words Like Disharmony And Acrimony I acquire New thangs Like a car A house A Computer And more and more Till I am mired in them Sinking in the mess That I made That sustains My materiel goods I acquire New pain Bubbling And becoming As tumorous As the worse Cancer Desire is devastating And distracting I acquire New knowledge To cure this infection This obsession With things To the detriment Of human beings In wisdom The more I acquire The more I let go Trimming the leaves That were crowding me Pruning the trees Of this materiel disease Till I find the truth Of you and me And this relationship Between us and our humanity I acquire The heart of my art A soul shining force Of love And oddly enough The more I give The more I get It is an endless bag
0
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 9:05 AM UTC
I Aquire
The world does not fit our make believe We curse a broken world Our teaming tender tended mental constructs Ribbons of psyche tattering In cyclonic winds resistance generated Thrash the i ****** delirious We grasp the tumorous slimy glob As god thought heaven sent me self Earnestly religiously unknowingly Crying children crave the honeyed razor blade Voices screeching tears falling heart anguished Living breathing hells of thought
0
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 12:29 PM UTC
Doesn't Fit
What torture ignorance is! When you treat ignorance as such, Perhaps it is. Being so ignorant, I could see it. For the foolishness of it Is that it is the only route to wisdom! In how we define it? By how we describe it? Of how we perceive it? Perception birthing perspective, Yet both products of their environment! "Self-copulation?" Of course, given context, The definitions fluctuate. So, then our perception of it And thereby our descriptions of them, Change or fluctuate also. Like the rain falling. Like ice forming. Like water flowing.
0
Apr 24, 2025
Apr 24, 2025 at 7:49 PM UTC
Growths Can Be Like Hair Or Like Tumorous Lesions!
find yourself in the space between birth and death malignant sense of self like a tumorous fold in your side time and money years and stocks driving us to abandon ourselves and drown in our collectiveness abandonment But I think my problem is I found someone else's sense of self and viewing the world through eyes that never really felt like the belonged to me
0
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 10:33 PM UTC
sensing ones self