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Okay, so i was a bad boy as a kid
Typical enough I spose, back in the 50's... Blowing up ant mounds, fantasizing Red Chinese Oh yeah, we were programmed for war Just like today's electronicuted Gamers. Mind Kontrol is so much fun Feeding festering schoolboy fantasies Fertile fodder for imperial follies Wham! Bam! Excuse me Maam Didn't mean to hurt anybuddy Was just feelin my oats Like in some cowboy shootemup At the y'all come back Saloon Oaters, they usta call em. Shot mourning doves perched on a wire And sparrows at the grain elevator Peckers, poking at spilled grain by the tracks Just looking for lunch: Flys with a spraycan nozzle, Poisoning the kitchen air as a bonus: Got me back once, the yellowjackets did For stoning their pendulous hive on a branch Had to mudpack the swelling face... Made me look a human disgrace. So older now, allegedly wiser, See a wasp landing on the prison windowscape Grab my pencil, teasing, tickling,, barely touching Antennae flailing, she mounts it... Aha! So now the fun begins... Sidle the stick up by the windowsill Nothing doing... She's seen that frustration already, So i try the newspaper for a landing site-- Nope. Reach waaay up the glass, hoping for disembarkation-- No dice there either on that solid mirage of freedom. Getting tired of the game, i wave it in a big arc And it works! Jet-assisted takeoff, kinda sorta She flies off, darting around the source of daylight. Somebody gets nervous-- Such a frightful presence What gall! disrupting this precinct's quiet Imagine that! Wild nature invading manspace Something's gotta be done. A volunteer librarian rolls up a newspaper Knees on the floor, flails the weapon: Beneath the table the wasp flits and flees So he strikes again and again-- No luck. Now a second attendant enters into the fray Determined look, strutting strides intent: A third one introjects "been here since yesterday" As number two strikes, strikes, SMITES..! Victory at last: One bold step for mankind. One dead wasp for Mother Nature. the blessing
relentless sun beats down upon them; only adding to the horrific scene taking place. no relief in sight for those that stood tall; the same goes for those who are oh so small. it seems there's no end to this madness and fury. where's the rain to douse it all goodbye? every year it seems we lose more and more. can we better prepare for what's in store? it's truly sad to see such beauty disappear; many acres of God's creation scorched off the earth. home destroyed both for man and for beast; it shows no preference for either great or least. yet through it all we shall not give up hope. can we just sit by and do nothing at all? we will replant and restore all that we can. shouldn't we be compassionate for nature, beast, and man? My friend builds robots.
"Soon," he says, "they will be our companions." He thinks we, too, should last forever. An eccentric billionaire commissioned a lifelike replica of his wife, since my friend builds robots. Circuitry encased in rubber wife-like skin, programmed to act like the original. He thinks we, too, should last forever. Gaze lovingly into the plastic eyes, immortal if you have replacement parts. My friend builds robots. My friend wants to be cryogenically frozen--to be "revived in the future." He thinks we, too, should last forever. "I can't afford the whole-body option," he explains. "I'll just have them freeze my head." My friend builds robots. He thinks we, too, should last forever. Null Liber-Book 777-The Law
Chaos Debris The word "Null" is the Hegelian Idea of the German Anus, the syntax, which is the shell, the skeleton and the rules of language, that holds the lie, the semantics and the myth of the gothic, Wicca, Modern Paganism, High Ceremonial Magick, Magick, and magic, all find their genesis and origins in the newly awakened interest in German Scat Letters from mothers, fathers, partners, children, friend,
Envelopes torn open, inspected, warm regards and well wishes violated. Together we serve our time with hopes to make amends. Never again will our world seem innocent. Offering plates are passed around throughout each day, Men donating what little pride they've managed to save. Although many are guilty, although some are not, together we could say: No man belongs here. Privacy surrendered, never a second's break. Uncertainty no longer a concept, but a way of life, Life at this point stripped to existing for existence's sake. Labeled with a number and a sin. Yet we berate each other despite our shared pain, Owing half our newfound struggles to the men right beside us, Under a system supporting our fractures for its gain, Locked up, our attention kept away from the key. Our lives now restricted to a ship banned from any port, We further segregate our little remaining space, Encouraged by the sea that wants no land to hear report: No man belongs here. Our vigor within there walls in intertwined, Ultimately guaranteeing our collective frailty. Guided by blind self-preservation we find Hatred circulates between us like blood. That nobody comes looking for us while we are gone, Ostensible to men by evidence of unhindered neglect, Has most of us convinced that we are alone Among an assemblage of likened captives. Tearing done faulty framework takes time and efforts, Even when endorsement for doing so is gallant, Howbeit without an ally willing to give support, Inciting rescission of a debased system fails. Mistakes can be corrected, lessons can be taught. Mankind, nonetheless, benefits not from isolation and fear. Land-Ho!, I say, for I have not forgot: Know compassion, come together, bellow. Fifty-six years ago today
The shots reverberated, Reverb today That fateful Friday morning of a Texas November Echo into my ears, hanging in a K.C. poolhall Where hustlers and streetboys gathered. "The president has been shot!' Early radio reports uncertain Was there still hope? Age twenty, intensely idealistic--political-- My suspicions keyed, Tendrils of thought seeking, searching Who pulled those triggers? Sensed it ran deep--the President: No cue in my hands, clueless too, I listened on, Standing there, awaiting later bulletins, Bullet-ins "This just in: President Kennedy declared dead." Sunday morning in Topeka Fade to a friend's foldaway couchbed, watching Broadcast from Dallas police headquarters "I'm a patsy" escorted down the corridor... Plunging through cops, reporters, a hatted man Thrusts his hand out...snubnose BANG! Live video etches through a lifetime's memories From the hollow heart of Dallas P.D. security. Seared-in image of Lee Harvey Oswald's murdered grimace Concocted by subterranean schemers, Cancels the patsy's day in court ...all tidied up, the key to the truth collapses on the concrete. Crazy how what I was doing to place myself in Federal Prison
I shared all I had with all who I luved or were my people or were my family at least supposed to been, now that I'm here it's me doing this alone no one 2 truly count on only God, my strength and myself! Nobody else fully support me, nor have time for me either. Just how it is I guess or just wasn't real luv I feel. You're so pretty when you laugh,
You're so pretty when you cry, You're so pretty when you look Into my tear-soaked eyes. Now you're half of what I am, So I'm twice what I once was. I can face my stormy days 'Cuz it's you I'm thinking of. I'm so stuck here in your web. I'm so glad that I am caught. I'd live or die for you Without a second thought. You're the one who matters most, So you're always on my mind. You've been so good to me When others were so unkind. So how do I deserve this? This feeling that I have felt? In my heart an ice resides, So how did you make it melt? Right now I'm so alive, So how long did that take? So now I feel this passion As my soul becomes awake. I'm so scared to be alone, I need you to be around. So desperate without you. . . I can't lose what I have found! You're where I've put my hopes at. . . So, yes, I've thought this through. My life changed when we first met. So I think that yours did, too. I'm at my best when you're near-- That's something you should know. So will we be together? I know that it will be so! I, a poem whisperer,
coax verses out of a jumble of letters. Doing it sneakily is: adding a quote, a crazed noun, with a lying verb. |
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"Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction."