Get Woke

Get woke but don't choke on the gorgeous aromas of your own turds.

As aging $hits reject your lit-up, shining orbit, remember that you never yet lived.

It's better to melt, than it is to fade away. Oh snowflake, dear snowflake, what have you done?

Mature

Mature the mind of the mindless work
Stalking senses lift the veil
Failing falling forces plain
Palest graspings in travail

Sting the coldest atmospheres
With the poison of the good
Making matching all that's right
Scattering. Scattering.

Words of worth meandering
Harmonies in conflict clean
Steaming strains arrayed uncut
Floating in unspotted skies.

As the commas splutter stall
Taller standing stand aside
riding as emotions fall
gliding further far away

Then the times return and end
Friendless inexplicable
Perplexing rights' obituaries
Stealing stabbing many foes

That feeling that you're feeling now
The wow of soft disfigurement
Pleasing pulling turns away
Slashing by predicament.

Stainless (poem)

The stained, stainless-steel,
Its iron guts, hanging out,
Helps me feel,
What this world's all about.

If it's all bright and shiny,
Then, why then, just deny me?
Then the curling flames begin,
And takes it, all away.

They say, those great philosophers,
That life, is said and done,
That it's lived, just while it lasted,
Done, before it's begun.

But I do beg to differ,
As I look into the sun,
The stiffer, now, the live-er,
The thicker, fables spun.

Until we pull the trigger,
And we may, now, end the fun,
And now, for all you stayers,
Just stare into this gun.

It's one of your own making,
So don't forget to blink,
As while you were just faking,
We, took us, to the brink.

And now, we're moving onward,
To a hellish, evil stink,
But don't let this alarm you,
In fact, don't even think.

My goal, is to disarm you,
As you fall into my snare,
The baiting with what's not true,
Shouldn't even make you care.

But One remains,
Again, remains,
And ever, never changes,
In all your pain,
That stays the same,
And never rearranges.

So onward, go, beyond your sight,
Push on, against the ages,
The source, we're from,
We gaze upon,
Within these, great many, stages.

And life endures,
Beyond all wars,
We fight, and die, in phases,
And though men cry,
And wonder, why,
We all, assume, our places.

Violent thriller

Violent thriller
With a violent killer
Lifts my spirit, not
Violent thriller
With a violent killer
Lifts my spirit, not
As vacant minds
Are never used
Of zoned-out, lost
Broken, abused
Born for waste
So all will know
What is good.
The universe will see
What it should.

Nobody knows...

Nobody knows, the true power of prose,
As we seek to believe, that there's better, to reach,
And the fog, and the gripe, that comes with the types,
The control, as we roll, on to all, that is final,
But never, is final, the truth speaks within us,
Our hearts, that are real, beat beneath iron and steel.
We are, and will be, until finally free.

People who aren't real...

There's always something about people who hide part of their real selves from me.

What they do with everybody else is their business, and as many people can't be trusted, then I can't really blame them.

But, when it comes to me, I expect no lies, no pretense, no repackage of past things.

It's very difficult to find genuine in truth whilst condescending to dwell in the midst of:

All self seeking,
self preserving,
I find myself,
just not deserving,
true, and brutal honesty,
And keep smiling, as you see.

No MOre

No more bipolar
On a roller
People who deceive
Then leave
They promise you
The Internet
Then take all
that they can get
Assurance of
Second birth
Stated with
Quiet mirth
What do you expect?
All the while
Profound defects
Pass the time
With stilted rhyme
Until you
say goodbye
They've gone,
but don't you cry.
You've gone,
But I won't cry.