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amme Oct 2016
He de-seeded himself into three pieces and proceeded to grow a tree of decieving, you see.
One seed of the tree was greed, so all it would breed was to feed our needs.
Once we used up all its weeds we decided to dig deep to see what this tree was hiding.
There it was, all along infront of our eyelids.
The roots of this tree grew in all directions endlessly.
How could this be?
One seed for greed, one seed for achieving infinity..?
And for the third, I (eye) tried to see through the mystery of the last seed I collected all the ingredients to cook up the last grand meal.
Stirring it I caught a quick wiff of its essence and for a mere second I felt free, I acknowledged the knowledge of being me.
My brain was introduced to DMT and I also knew the signifigance of the truth, now I knew what I had to do.
Convinced of the truth but I still follow all your rules, im not insane I wouldnt go blow up a school but I swear, latley my brain been telling me, only options I have is to accept my destiny or change it by a killing spree.
I know you are testing me but how am I supposed to enjoy this beautiful scenery if I cant even get this stress of my chest so I can rest again peacefully.
I knew I owe my soul to this tree for the knowledge its giving me.
I try to hold on to my memories but as its leaves they fall eventually...
It kills me everyday, living, knowing its not for me.. not for me...
Jesse Wright Oct 2012
Upon a morning dreary
I took a **** which left my ******* weary

I wiped
I flushed
I exited the bathroom blushed

Twelve hours passed
Since that horrid **** left my ***
And low and behold
A smell flowed to my nose
Just as a burning arose
Underneath my *******
I knew too late the **** had stained
The flesh, my taint tucked under my ******* train


Pretty soon around six o'clock
There came upon my door a knock knock knock
And who was there?
Who did I hear calling to my ears?
It was the *** positive, gonarreah infested, scabies encrusted, syphilis ridden, transexual ***-kitten I had started a relationship with over Craig's List

Now, listen children carefully to this...

***** tucked hisher's lips around hisher's teeth
And began a ******* that could make the Hulk weak
But it was over in a jif
When ***** caught a wiff
And that little sneak
Took a pervy peak
At the feces widely spread underneath


I was laughing so hard I thought I was dying
That pesky little poo
Left on hisher bottom lip
Made that entire bathroom trip

Part II coming soon!
Coffee in the mornings
******* afternoons
Smoking joints in joints
Listening to music
Every night by moon

My youth went up
As another puff
As another sniff , a wiff
And before I knew it
I was looking very ruff

I can't even remember
If I slept at all
Or who I was sleeping with
For all I see are faces
Their names I don't recall

Rosebud tripped on the step
Coming out the entrance door
She fell into my open arms
I would never be the same man
As I was just before

See most women
Leave their jewelry
Rosebud left her name

Rosebud loved the thunder
Rosebud loved the rain
She scared me like lightning
Laugh at all my pain

She never asked me if I loved her
She never said the same
She laid her head upon my shoulder
Said when you're gone
I will be sorely pained

Rosebud tripped on the step
Coming out the entrance door
And fell into my open arms
I would never be the same man
As I was just before

See most woman
Leave their jewelry
Rosebud left her name .
Francisco DH Nov 2012
The smell of caramel danced with my nose
As did too, the scent of fresh bread
I look out the iced window fogged up
and i saw you

You entered and let the cold air in
And I had a thought of evil towards you
For you let the cold bite my face  and made me shiver
But when you spoke I felt hot as the coffee I held closely

"A Mocha please." You said and flashed the cashier a smile
She smiled back and gave your change and let her hand linger just a bit longer than it should
you laugh a bit and waited patiently as she tried to strike up a conversation
You being a gentlemean talked with her and then your Mocha was brought
She gave you the cup

You turned around and walked to a table near mine
I caught a wiff of your beverage and smiled
I looked at my clock and shot up, I was late for work
I ran up and tried to cut in front of you with my coffee

Stupid me,I should have waited
We collied and I got your shirt covered with me Carameled drink
My face turned red and I stampered an apolgy but you held a hand up
"It's okay, What's your name?" you asked with a smile

How could you be so calm?
Such gentleman you were
I said it and you gave a smile that melted my heart
"well, here's my number? call me later so i can give you the bill and maybe we can go out sometime"
I took it, staring at the card and felt warm

Our fingers touched and I knew right then we were going to be more
Thank You my Caramel Coffee
I thank you for giveing me a perfect man
A wish of the perfect encounter
How to make nonsense out of bitter citrus fruits
Leave them be, already a font of nonsensical egg yolks
You do this for yourself, your own self, and no other self
Endure another fortnight daliance, you dance forthrightly

Absorb information like paranoia
The facts are lying in bed with an orange banana
How to make something lasting in a world cursed with impermanence
It cannot be done. It simply cannot be done.

The length of a breadbasket will often determine
the size of the loaf
The ratio of meat to potatoes makes nonsensical lemonade
The worst kind...worse than the worst

This document is not intended for distribution
during the lifetime of the author
Only with his passing disseminate expecting sympathy for
the old poet's story, how rarely it truly changes

The ingredients for the above mentioned nonsense
have been properly proportortioned and mixed per instruction
Take a wiff, you can smell the sweet aroma of their baking vapor
As a child I ate spoonfuls of baking powder

The aroma certainly saturates the proceedings
Almost intoxicating how it smacks your heart with nostalgia
The stupid cartoons, the National Lampoon stolen from the convenience store you hung out in
Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in

That, my friend, is the beginning from the end
That, my foe, is the bleedin' end of the road
I'm in Ian Curtis' voice, deadening repetion
Day in Day out, Day in Day out, Day in Day out, Day in Day out, Day in Day out

Ding, Ding, the timer in the kitchen chimes it's melancholy ring
The nonsense is at this present moment complete
Ready to serve, ready to eat
and please don't choke on my words, I'm half asleep
i smoke the ******, people take a wiff
i cant tie ma shoes but i can *** yo *****
i walk that streets wit my boombastic reggae styl
we go to ma doops bungaloo and he says *** and stay a while
we find some bittys wit a fat *** and tell them theat they fine
they say we're creeps witout jobs we say they need some wine
turns out they werent down to *** like an assembly line

tired i go home down tha empty reggae street
i light tha ****, i light tha spliff till i cannot feel my feet
a car puls up i drop my cup they say to get in the backseat
im ****** about the cup it had my last brew and i want to drop a **
i owe them money i have none they brake ma kneecaps what fun
they throw me out the car, away i scurry
she got a big ***** so i call her big *****
Ja feel?
Sa Sa Ra Nov 2012
H'min in I want some, and this Vita Mix thing 'round here
'dat gets an eyes wiff of this sort of thing and it starts singing
ringing a real living day dream 'get on over here' all of a sudden
seems I'm thirsty no drink in years Basil where's that friendly Dandelion
and last I saw they were all out together with baby Spinach and baby Kale
an' were looking quite sweetly there 'bout ready for what they so beautifully do,
see and ask 'em if they'd come along with all their great buds willing be super brew
for a little bit dear, needy and overly due sweety and we's more exacting on being more
the cup of tea of super elixirs, gets this dude feeling quite bit better on and maybe next task-set
don't set him so far down under and year after lil' bit sweeter and lighter yet; beyond our sweetness
magically green goddess's delight of the kind of treatment sometimes hard to find between themselves
those red blood bearing types; so let's call on down Cilantro, get on down and out some more 'dem ****
heavy metals, how 'bout this dude anybody kno where he could trick a book into dropping off a truck load of SuperKombu, ordinary Kelp and while we're here now; now can we form our hearts around every shore and river that pours into thee before it is too much more of woe are the seas; I'm going to go on now but 'dat one's got black holed gravity's; Chlorella, Spirulina, Blue Greens Bloom Algaes taken with care and sampling testing is what by me next to LOVE  Love and well and the water there a very dear and essential shimmering part of God to me; Temple Body Temple Earth; be they battered tattered near or see it far two homes each has got; We All Holy Stewards; are we sleeping on the job; no captain at the helm; did we check in and walk out and get high and expect a check and hope to keep our jobs; please help me; how would each of 7 billion else describe; give me your dreams and or each your fears;
                                                                ­             what do you want;
                                                                ­                  come alive or
                                                                ­                   disappear!!!!
                                                   ­                                        R
~We can form our hearts around every shore and river that pours into thee before it is too much more of woe are the seas~~
~And as emotionality's do not worship and drown by these wherefore they are better serving us be a lighter loving walk upon these loveliest of delights abundantly~~

Sheila Chandra - Ever so Lonely

Ever so lonely
Ever so lonely without you
Ever so lonely

Sinking into your eyes
And all I see
Love is an ocean and you for me

Sinking into your eyes
Your eyes
Are all I see

Your love is an ocean
An ocean refuses no river
Ever so lonely

An ocean refuses no river
Waiting for the time

When we can be
Alone together
Alone together eternally

The ocean, the ocean refuses no river
The ocean, your ocean refuses no river
Ever so lonely

Ever so lonely without you
Your ocean
Your ocean refuses no river

Life in all its splendor is Mother Nature obeyed.
--Weston A. Price, DDS
Weston A. Price Foundation President Sally Fallon Morell offers a welcome message and overview of the foundation's principles.

The Beautiful Truth;
Raised on a wildlife reserve in Alaska, 15-year-old Garrett was interested in the dietary habits of the farm animals. After the tragic death of his mother, Garrett's father decided to home-school his son and assigned a book written by Dr. Max Gerson that proposed a direct link between diet and a cure for cancer.
Fascinated, Garrett embarks in this documentary on a cross-country road trip to investigate The Gerson Therapy. He meets with scientists, doctors and cancer survivors who reveal how it is in the best interest of the multi-billion dollar medical industry to dismiss the notion of alternative and natural cures.

This is the launch video of the Generation Food Project. Award winning director Steve James ('Hoop Dreams' and 'The Interrupters') and bestselling author Raj Patel ('Stuffed and Starved' and 'The Value of Nothing') want to tell stories of people who are changing the way we eat today, so that everyone can eat tomorrow. Visit to find out more and support the project.

Website and Blog of writer, activist and academic, Raj Patel's publishers site;
day dreamer Jan 2014
The thought of her comes across my mind
So I drive to her house
staring at her scarf hung around my rear view mirror the whole way
she steps into my car
we drive straight to sanborn street

I keep my head down low
as I wait for the man with the blow
he walks over to us with a swag
gets in the car and hands me the bag
each time he says be safe

I hold the bag close to my nose and take a wiff
of that wonderful gasoline smell
then she cuts a line for each of us to sniff
the powder rises through the straw
instantly I make a face of awe
as my lips and tongue go numb

energy and benevolence surges through me
as negativity and despair purges itself

I lift my head and see her face, see her eyes
the love, the unity I feel for her
causes my high to intensify

I know this drug would be so much less to me
if I was alone, not blowing lines with her
this high would be so much less without her love
Karl Stewart Sep 2010
In twilly frills on noobly's gump
the framly is known as Wally Frump.
And Wally feeds the grimmly worm
bits of scritch and crumbly kirm.

the grimmly worm was quite a find
Wally almost ate him but changed his mind
now grimmly worm's a pet of his
so too grimmly's cousin liz.

lizzy slithers smear and drag
with liquid eyes of black nishcrag
leaving trails along the walk
of slimy glosh that smells like plock

framlies are a quirky lot
with mogly toes and breath so hot.
beware of Wally's heated breath
where one small wiff means certain death

so when you enter twilly frills
on noobly's gump among the hills
beware of Wally's breath so warm
of lizzy's slime and the grimmly worm
You big bloated orange moon
Hanging there in this heavy air
You have stolen summer
Eaten it right up and laughed

You have opened the night for lovers
You have burped out a sigh
A wiff of smoke; camp fires burn low
Eager for what lies ahead...I dread

After the regal colors of Autumn
Snow will chill my bones
So, gloat now you blighted orb
I will laugh a pumpkin laugh alas...
Jasmine Blick May 2012
Its prom oh what a lovely day
The sun is out in the beautiful month of May

In our dresses we will surely hide
But either way we've got our converse laced and tied

Its amazing most would say
But we stick to the back far away

The "beautiful" people won't see our gaze
They're to caught up in their "perfect" haze

We'll stick to this wall
Hardly seen at all

We'll talk a little
Maybe secretly sing a little..

Either way
No one will see us in this decently lit hide away

Everything's fine...


All the lights die...

I reach for your hand
Frozen there you stand

My hand almost makes it
Then something else takes it...

You whisper still shocked
For you have a fear of the dark (everyone used to mock)

"Yo-ou th-he-ere?
Ca-an't you-you se-ee I-I-'m scared?"

The lights slowly begin to dim up to bright..
Still our little spot has little light

You see I'm no longer at your side
Then you look down to your right side

You question, "oh no she's dead!?!"

You decide to follow the trail of blood
You hope so badly your tears won't flood

You hope I'm okay
Call it a joke if you may

Then you find me...

Sprawled out on the floor
You swing open the blood covered door

"She's still alive...thank god"
You say kind of odd

You pull me into you arms
You see my flips your alarms

You grip me oh so tight
You hope I will live at least one more night

When my grasp gives out

And my eyes roll back
The room goes once again black

Clutching my corpse wishing to live
Maybe hoping you have some life left to give

I make a huge gasp
And pull away from your grasp

I no longer bleed
But its your flesh I seem to need

You wrap your blood covered arms around me

I try so hard not to devour you
I must tell you its all I can do

I push you off and slide into the dark
"I'm sorry dear I just don't want to leave my mark"

"What mark?
Why must you hide in the dark"

You panic to say

"Its simple my dear
I've become infected I fear"

"With what I don't mind but-"

I interrupt your words

"No...its the Z
The Z Word you see"

"Its okay...I'm not afraid.."

You hug me anyway
I can't bite you but I can't pull away

Your flesh...

It smells so delicious

Then you beg me To give you the Z

I scream "NEVER!!"
"But I want to live with you forever.."

You give the eyes
The ones that make me blurt out my deepest cries

"Fine" I mumble fearful
Suddenly your not so careful

You close your eyes "Make it quick"
"Honey you do know its not like a little pin *****?"

You slightly nod..putting your head in my hands..
I don't think I can fulfil your demands

I close my eyes anyway
I take a wiff of your flesh straight away

Your only one bite away
One tear drops as I try not to run the other way

I open a wide

I take a little bite...

I can't stand the feeling

I spit your flesh out..

You heave yourself into my arms
You give me that smile that always charms

Then suddenly you die
Even infected me..well I cry..

You pull away from my arms

"I feel better then ever
What do you say we destroy this prom together?"

With our dresses torn and tattered
And our laced converse blood splattered

We **** our heads
And hope to tare this stupid prom to shreds

Next thing we know we're full as can be
The she sets the school into flames (not me)

We sneak away thinking happily
Prom really hadn't ended so badly...
I dedicate this to my bestest friend Kristany ^.^
A. K. A. My zombie loving converse addict of a blood sister:)
Mikkel Mathiesen Sep 2014
Is the edge of the cliff
the time of your death?
Or the realities sudden wiff
of: "this is not your final breath".

Are the falling skies
tumbling over your head?
Or your happy moments in disguise,
from the tragic ending in red.

The conception of lives subtractions and additions
is the everlasting question to find lives prohobitions
ArianaRusso May 2014
Fine powder of the hour,
a blissful blue
Take a wiff
Just a sniff
Let us sink into the earth’s core and melt into the soil,
We shall grow into beautiful flowers and trees

At this hour
Euphoric touch
humble momentum
docile caress from a drug
ryyan May 2011
I just want to breathe In a wiff, 

of that crisp morning mountain air. 

Sink my teeth into the taste of life, 

and filter the smoke out of my lung.
I have felt my foundation shift,
but I guess I’ve never really cared... 

So lets hit this road tonight.
Taking another step into the horizon.

The funny thing about asking questions 

is that you never know the answer. 

Like why the hell are we floating?

Yet bound to this earthly ground? 

Well I guess I’ve learned my lesson:
gravity is just a cancer. 

I want to fly into the horizon, 

and not be stuck six feet underground.

My world is spinning.
But I don’t feel it move. 

you might think that I’m crazy, 

but yours is spinning too...
and death is only a beginning. 

a pathway to some other life. 

and freedom comes when were living,
as if we’re wanting to die.

Have you ever felt like you living? 

But we’re really just in a dream?

Have you ever felt like you were moving?
But really stuck swimming upstream?

Life is a mess at best. 

Perfection’s just a mythic story told aloud.

Yet it’s an honorable quest I guess,
But I need some wings to lift me off this ground.
Taylor Browne May 2011
my fingers smell like Camels eternally
because we all take life very seriously
and my appetite just died
because I got a wiff of curdled milk I fed a sunflower seed
and was reminded that I want to thizz
but lack the funds
to do so.
Richard Riddle Nov 2016
Hawwoween haf come and gone
Excoove me if you pweeve-
Wiff aw the weft ow'er candy-
The cowomel stwuck to my teeve!
kirklefrance Jan 2015
Silently farts explode through the night
Evidence the essence of last nights dinner delight
A hinyt of black bean sauce mixed with sprite
My nose catches a wiff I catch a fright
My girl smell da wibe say boi keep ya boungie tight
Pushing off my advances to cuddle she say boi not tonight
I let off another one and almost take flight
She jump out da bed and grab a knife
I say easy baby lets not fight
Cause you cook dat **** anyway lets get it right
I know baby lets get a kite
and we bun she down til my tummy was tight
its 2:49 I just cut on the light
My belly hurting my comfort, I write
Laptop batteries about to go dead I bid you all goodnight
I am not Phoenix
I will not rise from my ashes

When I burst into flame
Only my ashes will remain

I am not everlasting love
Just a memories horde

Of days and years of passion
laying in the ruins as ashes

I am not an eternity
Just a wiff of smoke and wind

Place my remains on a tier of wood
Set the fire as understood

I am not Phoenix
Paul Hardwick Feb 2016
I booked a fab and not cheap restaurant
the starters so succulent
the main course
one you would of though, your mom cooked
the sweet like satin melted in your mouth
left me feeling like I was in heaven
it all seamed to quick
so I order coffee and liquors
still time past to quick
ordered a cheese board
My date picked up cheese on her knife
and said
Get a Wiff of This.

Ex tomorrow for sure.
***. P@ul.
Zoe Sue May 2018
Late nights in my brain like walking down a dark alleyway barefoot lightly clothed in the idea that everything will be okay thats what they say streetlights shone on pothole streets beats my face reflection to a wavering wonder something will come here caught a wiff of a wayside street wanderer finding sleep in a corner covered in ****** on life of been then being hard to know who im seeing am i still me? Hardly walked in my shoes let alone others loose unused excuse for solitary misuse find time in pocket phoned life we aspire to be more like look alike lavish facacde comradery in journalistic honesty all is well when i burn in hell follower frontier founder of warped mirrors and fun house on acid play my show to the masses how to see oneself clear in lie prescribed  glasses
Mateuš Conrad May 2018
/and ******* could paint a *******, but subsequently talk **** in colloquial... about such "earthly" affairs as buying milk, while practicing it in French... America forever the cosmopolitan and the suburban, like at the grudging girth of the 20th passing of 100 khakin burdens catching bullets... without invitation, this writing can only claim to be an observation, of the colour of a strawberry, which is isn't red, but strawberry, frozen in ice... electric, a lemon thrown into a field ladder with wintry puff...

as if all rhymes in the world,
where but a ***-note,
an after school dictum
or St. Bartholemew's prayer
a Chilean short:
   of a mea culpa -
       ecce ****! ex luto!
   and if not only Pilate,
like god, washed his hands
clean of the affair,
             had i but
interest to will a talking
rose, i wouldn't have
the curiosity, to leave animate
things to a gambit of my own,
    (rarely do you spot
a tautology,
given that Wittgenstein bangs
on about it...
   namely, gambit
and predilection)...
hit the ******* brick 'all
like a sac o'
wit' (th' - definite article
  veer into the fate of
ph'ought concerning
hardly a ******* whiff from
a chimpanze pushing out
translated (digested)
champagne sugar puffs)...
         wiff dill...
and Mr. Pink smothered
in butter, rather than mummified
in Dover batter...
     mind you, I too wished to be
a Daltonist,
   imagining Dover's sulphuric cliffs...
whike dot Culd'playz
cancan doove dive into
reimagining Cockney 'ellas!
     apparently "god" in
the omni-schematic is immune
to the gambit man proposed...
    I grant the will concerning
inanimate things
in the vicinity...
then again:
    nothing is actually inanimate...
can you even begin
meditating, when being
asked a question?
    Tao says:
   give a narrative,
receive a narrative,
keep the water flowing,
ask a question akin to:
what is Tao?
          question =
the interrogative interim,
the void eats a thought...
there is never a definite
thought, that isn't an idea...
    glutton mouth of
nothing described as
     either form (definite)
      or formless (indefinite)...
can anyone please spare
us from those who
"think" and extend this
                 into narrative?
throw five marbles into
a dozen eggs and call
them electron drum & bass
   never in the history of
man, has squabbles under:
spire of democracy...
a famous picture from
      the modern version of Yalta...
John Paul II, Ronald Reagan,
Mikhail Gorbachev...
   and a happy family too...
because bureucracy isn't
without autocratic accents
without an autocrat?
       pencil pushing and paper
folding seigls...
what Burroughs took from
Tzara and the top hat at
Cabaret Voltaire,
can only swallow the cut-up
with a Dresden Vonnegut passing
over a cigarette ash-swamp:
    spell with only consonants
(H = surd attaché),
id est: s•chi•zoi•te•le•gra•phi•c...
       +              |               x
schnell schnell!
   das rubric!
            clock read awry, clock reads
    no star of David,  nor a *******...
can be less, before
the churning altar of time...
******* ancient Latin prepositions
and moderns...
   á non culpa m
(by no fault of my own)...
             can we move away from...
    trapped in a colloquial
where people,
speak poetically,
    since Metaphor became Atlas...
and yet poets akin to
    and a fern that grwe into
a frivolous chicken strut
by a royal: twirl surrounding
a passing wind near
the floor of a forest...
              would it ever
be a sin to claim taking a
picture of a shadow,
seconds prior to the dawn
of Hiroshima?
    paranoia of the nuclear powers...
apparently the itchy finger
calamity wen(t) to ****
w(h)en hit upon Nagasaki...
    oddly enough...
this can truly be an antithesis
of a Victoria "curiosity"
           akin to a slobbering
    Bradley Coop' 'itting
phe vest u'nd...
                              in the comment
        apparently writing has
to resemble the comforts of
a colouring-in book
and be replica of
­always the cul de sac
but never the labyrinth...
   always the cul de sac...
and never the labyrinth;
   didn't I mention that mathematical
tools, akin to ÷ etc.
    are plagued to
the custard Joe ****** brother
of grammatical tools, akin
to prepositions and conjunctions?
    hell, the Canadian pronoun
          might as well attempt in
depicting cognitive muscles
                at work, su doku gym
   which is a lesson in keeping
formation and blind spots...
         Alzheimer's killer proteins
digesting fat...
   a bit like what the Somalis
eat last, or rather what eats itself
      the Omega Phren Genesis...
there are glimpses into
     notably wearing my
grandfather's waistcoat...
reminding him to taste a bear
at 10 minutes to midnight...
    no wonder
we can claim to see
the Hollywood desert of original
               exhausted imagination...
the famine of the north...
short on intellectual curiosity...
a shackles of inverted
   copula fungus...
   and what remains....
             of the laughing biceps.
Susana Aug 2
To The smell
To The drill
To The simplicity
I adapt
Quickly, No thought
It Fills up my veins
With warmth
State of longing
But For what?
For Those few seconds
Of difference, change
The Crisp wiff of air
And Clean, white sheets
Strange, but oddly comforting

— The End —