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never whistle while you're pissing

in crono(ill)logical order

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I sit here and think of the eternal me just about to realize what's always been just around the corner.  The older man goes through his years asking himself what he may have done to void his warranty.  "Am I still good for a tune up?"   What good is a lifetime warranty on a life?What happens when it breaks?  There are those 'lifer-fixer-upper' courses, but what of a complete overhaul?  How can a life sit behind the guise of a stranger?  Even stranger stranger, Stranger.   life.

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protocol stems our society without mind to those who are

be what we tell you to be

Love only what you want to

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Oh say can you see?

Filling our minds with lies and vomit from their drunken power hungry souls

suppressing our natural rights as beings, we're not alive or so they pretend.

 

A pretense of love

A reality of apathy

they lost the support of the people they trod upon

knowing only what their laws allow us to

doing only what they think is right

 

in the name of god and country

lost in the soiled adrenelin of war

they feed us their shit and we gladly eat it

thinking it a blessing to have anything at all.

 

our national anthem is spattered with our blood

the same blood that dripped down our so called great flag

 

holding great wisdom they strangle our minds only so we do not know any better

they tell us we're free, unless they obstruct our freedom, in which case they tell us it's for our own good

 

Without our freedom, we're all dead

With it we possess the gift of life

Go Live

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"Daddy, look at..."

When we had so much

facination

in the littlest things

no one took time to care

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The sky shatters and all i see is what is left

just one tiny impurity in that tiny speck of light

no one else noticed

a million shards of broken blue falling to the earth

 

It all went in s l o w motion

a cracked shell began to glow and i saw it move

it sprouted its metaphoric legs and left this world to those who wanted it

 

Then the shell collapsed, tumbling in upon itself

raindrops fallin' on my head

the crowd sang with hollow voices as the musicbox turned through time

he should be dizzy by now, yet still he spins

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i walk back to where I started, seeing only that i started at the end

our perceptions are, for lack of a better word, silly

as if a large flourescent toaster popped out of the ground,

said hello and asked about my wife and kids

whether or not  that happened is irrelevant

and i revel in it

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room for the night

drunken slowly softly whining children

raining ever falling twards the center

never stopping only dropping habits

 

Bringing on a lowly sinning dreaming whisper

silent drumming knocking thumping heads of state in quiet recess

damned disruptive judges running marathonal races

segregating people

living all together

always hating, never loving little things

lost in little corners of a damp and dusty room

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The Great Feast

part 1

edging its way into our hidden pleasures

tickeling away at the minds' delight

in search of the becoming love

come to know their hate and control

not even the hate of the overbearing snake

whos fangs sink deep into the heart

but the hate of the ones you love is dealt without embarassment

part 2

blind me of the darkness i've always been in

just as i was trying to find the blazing light

turn to find the raging fire, yank back my hand in agony

more hurt from betrayal than out of pain

denial of the emblazoned truth, while nursing hot wounds

left in whirling tunnels of confusion to find my own way through the swirling mists

i'll come out ragged

build me back up with old sweat and bone

find the finely lit building of fiery hearths of warmth

we'll see the sanctuary once again

the sight will cause tears to be wrenched from the masses

tears of struggle past, forgotten joys, remembered pain

rejoice consuming, exaltation without bounds

they will focus their power full on the tower and it will be purely of the people

not the poisoned rivers we drink from now

 

part 3

As the moon passed through the void of night I wished it inside me

to fill me, eat me, only a chasm

i wanted to look to myself and see the void

i struggle to open the doors again

thinking to open them i bought their locks

now i'm shut closed, the windows barred and the doors bolted

they caused fear to burst forth inside myself

intentions turned to shit

part 4

once a thing of love

sunny pastures in summer hills

now a thing of greed, hoards in a dark winter cave

touch the mind with sensual fingertips, extacy

rape the mind with the same touch, agony

jump as the start of a dazed dreamer, awake

cast a thousand times on the spiked pit, forget

 

they find their little corners and stay there in the empty house

the boards are cracked and the walls hold empty pictures

framing the emptiness of their hollow lives

the broken windows cause the whispers of life to echo through the dustfilled hallways

causing clouds of neglect to rise and resettle

only to be distrubed again

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shoes filled with solid lead falling to the floor with a loud dull thud.   not meant to walk long journeys, only meant to fall.

walking through the endless rose garden.  whincing in agony at every step.  wishing he'd remembered his shoes.

the shoes lay still on the ground, staring at the folding shadows.   he'll never know anything but the cold floor he lays on.

the roses are beautiful boyond expanse.  yet his eyes are glued to his feet on the ground, trying to watch where he's stepping

they fall asleep and dream of walking.  a continous taunt of things unreachable.  they wake in midstep and remember the dream with tears

he's always walking, afraid to stop.  not wanting to just stay still and watch the roses rearrange themselves in the wind

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scope out the scene

kill all the germs

nible nibble little tribble

slink away to the other side

obsession repression connection conviction

dance in a circle

around

around

despite the grabbing hands

grab yourself

grab your neighbor

grab your pulsing head

blot your makeup

blot your pain

blot the sun out when it rains

with clouds of peace and clarity of war

see yourself stand in the circle

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soft and delicate perhaps it's known

perhaps it's thought of constantly

perhaps it's twisted into some unrecognizable portion of the mind

perhaps it should be shouted out to all

or whispered to myself

or groomed

or grown wild

or strewn about

or maybe kept the same...maybe it doesn't need to be fucked with

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if you were perfect, you'd be suprised

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play with the other children

drip drip

sing their songs of joy

strapped in a hard bed

wishing for home

 

drip drip

the bag is full

the room empty

the dream is real

the caretakers away

 

ding ding

drip drip

footsteps echo outside the door

the knob turns

a shape enters

 

many years pass with only

ding ding

drip drip

beep beep beep

clap clap of feet on linoleum

 

finally

the beep wurns to a whine

playing with the other children

singing their songs of joy

having a home, to go home to

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Squirell fucking nut bar is in your ear

around they roll

all over the floor

laughing in a psychotic manner

whispering twisted messages

soon to be dilapitated

all for an attempted tradgedy

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the deepest corner of a being holds a hidden safe

containing the misty smoke of human truth

seeping through the empty spaces looking for escape

finding its way to the tip of a scalding hot pen

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fire drill

sit down

single file

MARCH!

2.....3.....5

evacuate

get back

STOP!

don't cry

don't walk

listen when i'm talking to you

be on time

do it right

don't touch that

be back at 11

do your chores

don't pick at it, you'll only make it worse

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a day in the death

it's coming soon

no one hears the hollow footsteps

or his raspy breath

but he's here

safe with us

enjoying his tea

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yesterday while walking down that thing

you know, it's black with yellow lines

anyway, i saw a woman whos eyes weren't straight

she probably got that way by looking at her nose a lot

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the cheshire cat had it right

throw reason out the window, making a dent in the neighbors car

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Dear Faceless Corporation

Dear faceless corporation,

    I ordered a copy of Do-it-Yourself Brain Surgery.

when the volume came I was quite enthusiastic.  Many hours were spent reading the book cover to cover.  The instructions were so clear I decided to give it a try.

    Step one said to anesthesize the patient, so I read to him from my highschool history book.  He was asleep in no time.

    Next I found an exacto knife from the art supply store and removed the upper half of his skull.

    I took a fork and removed all the tines but one and began to poke and prod.

    When I got bored I krazyglued his skull back on and sewed his scalp together.

    I waited for about six hours and the patient woke up.  It was a success.  He was normal for the first few days, but then my hamster, Greg, started to demand rights.  One thing led to another and my wife left with him.  She said it was time her husband acted like an animal and I was too drawn into myself.

    The reason I'm writing this is, I was wondering if you sold a book on winning your wife back from hamsters.

                                                                                                                          Your loyal patron,

                                                                                                                                Obo Dobbs

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laying in a corner muttering his dreams while he sleeps

he talks of dragons and wizards and small furry creatures

he's happy when he dreams

 

he gets up from the corner and follows the footsteps of his dreams

he walks through forests and caves hidden behind watterfalls

he's happy when he dreams

 

laying back down in his corner he wakes up

he complains about work and bills and stupid drivers

he's happy when he dreams

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frail, i said to him

he scoffed and turned his head never saying a word

simply walking away

 

it's aggrevating watching everyone go through the same meaningless actions

wishing to shout at them, "Hey, stupid!  Look at yourself!"

but they wouldn't hear

they can't hear

repeat slowly after me

I

AM

THE

ROBOT

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i hate it

i hate it when you see beauty waste away

falling from its perch

the highest limb of the tallest tree

crumpled and crippled

crying on her own shoulder at night

huggng herself for protection

feasting on her own soul

 

for her i say this

Fuck You!

I say this because i know she won't

Fuck You!

i say this because you deserve it

 

your hangups, dogmas, plastic cards and little pills

cut her, bruised her made her fall

 

so take your cell phones, your individually wrapped cookies, your plastic smiles and shove them up your ass

some day you'll choke on them and on that day, i'll laugh

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the depression poems

when eyes are heavy and breath comes with effort

the heart beats five counts slower

the black in your eye becomes the black in your mind

you wonder, "is it worth it" over little things

someone unscrewed your lid leaving you empty as a used can of air

 

back away and make the next breath a big one

exhale the ocean, wash clean the tears

fill yourself with earth

away the black on the inside

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don't sleep where it's ugly

be it the smell of beer or the cars rushing past

awake is best

 

don't sleep where it's ugly

the last vision as you drift off and the first when you open your eyes

should be beautiful

 

don't sleep where it's ugly

or you'll dream where it's ugly, too

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sometimes it hurts to wake up

sometimes you don't notice it

awake is the dream

the dreams repeat

 

A broken man in his broken room

awake he must be...and unhappy

 

tears of god wash away the world

the salty residue tastes like shit

 

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