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never whistle while you're pissing
in crono(ill)logical order
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.
protocol stems our society without mind to those who are
be what we tell you to be
Love only what you want to
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
"Daddy, look at..."
When we had so much
facination
in the littlest things
no one took time to care
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
if you were perfect, you'd be suprised
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
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
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
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
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
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
the cheshire cat had it right
throw reason out the window, making a dent in the neighbors car
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
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
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
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
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
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
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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