The War of The Poor

The sun escapes the jetted clouds that are stream-lined across the sky,
We tilt our young heads upwards and look through a trembling eye.
How can the world keep going around when this is happening?
All of the stars have begun falling, the sunlight is dampening.

Off in the distance can you hear the War of the Poor breaking out?;
blood pours down the sewage lines tonight, shattering the doubt
That the People will stop their fighting and lay down all their arms,
But where would that leave them, no more sounding the alarms?

As the righteous begins to step forward and stand up for all,
The others will follow attempting to surge and break on through –
they will open up their eyes and see what befalls their atmosphere,
Understanding will come with a new day where there is No Fear.

Roaming Away From Normality

A liquid summer fades into fresh snow,
It hardens into ice I’m afraid to fall on.
Through catapults of holidays and work-
is it here that we our to find ourselves?

In between days that blur together
we look past our reflection in the mirror,
Terrified of what is real and what’s to come
Of who is staring back with cold eyes.

A mundane life calls to us from afar,
begging that we join it on adventures,
Instead we lapse into a routine
and collect all the things we never need.

No, I won’t let myself be pulled underneath
of this crazy mess of crinkled money.
Instead I’ll rush against this strong wind,
With your hand in mine we’ll start anew.
We will save our souls.

Welcome to Yourself

I’m blazing along on this strange, open road of prosperous interactions and awkward experiments. Thrown into a mix of laughter and blood, there is quite honestly no time to stop and question the actions that one conjures up to commit. If you ever pause for too long of a time, you will have noticed that nearly everything has slipped between your fingers including the swiftly moving wind of happiness painted in derailed lines. Don’t take this life for granted in thought that maybe your next rebirth you will have a stronger society, a more capable self, because for all you know you may not be priveleged a next life at all – or all 9 of yours have been used throughout these dazed years. Remember to learn not from lessons but from glimpses into mistakes, and do not forget to make further mistakes in separate perspectives as to continuously educate oneself until the greatest knowledge of purity can be reached.

We are all beautiful and have the potential of beings the Gods of this universe…we just have to pull ourselves together, fear not of what is to come, love eternally and forgive everlastingly to those who have the gentlest, kindest of touches to our hearts; humanity is not lost, yet.

Nuts and Bolts

So I get up. Lately the sun has beginning to scratch itself into my eyes and that has been my source of an alarm clock, this must mean spring is just around the corner. Pulling back my sheets I wash and dress to look like I look almost everyday but with something very subtle just to spice it up and keep those close around me on their toes. Vaguely I can recall what is being told to me, droned into my ears by some sort of machine everyday as I sit in a wooden desk only to get up and sit back down in another one. Tapping my pencil passes the dragging time.
Looking around at all the other blank faces, or those distracted by mutual boredom, I can feel my brain becoming a little more distorted each time and question everything I view around me. Why are we all sitting here when this machine looks at us as just another number, another letter, another bolt in their large desk that they think will get them somewhere. Maybe to some of these machines, we are another figure in their salary. I cannot help but think to myself of how depressing it is that I am actually seated calmly in these places five out of seven days of my week, spending my time doing what it is I do not feel necessary anymore. It is all just a veal-fattening pen so that they can prime us up and shove us into those neat little holes that have our specific numbers on them since birth, but so many people feel it right to blindly ignore this. Really, I am the one at a lose here because I can see the destruction of individualism within these instiuitions and it is driving me insane because I am forced to be in one of them. Forced to lay back and pretend everything will be alright whereas my insides are churning. When will a day arise when we no longer have to comply to the thoughts of our elders and we are able to do what we believe is right? This is not chaotic, it would just result in a truly free, individualistic society. I yearn for it, but I know that if I had it there would be little chance I would want to stay in it. Just as I, now, wish not to stay in this one.
Draping feelings of loneliness capture themselves in my eyes which begin to look dead behind faulty lines of make-up, they grasp for some kind of sanity in this daily life of routine and realism. Little escapes reach my fingertips on late evenings and short weekends in the form of metal strings, burnt pages, broken pencils, destilled laughter, soft kisses, and sheets of a substance that caress the soul I can only set free on the rare occasion.
Time slips like sand through my scrawny fingers that feel rather broken now. I guess I will have to let my feelings fade, this system will not change drastically anytime soon (even as everybody can now see the harsh effects of their actions). There will always be few of us who sit at the back of these classrooms with a contorted look on our faces as the teachers try to teach us something they barely have interest in themselves, questioning the reason for all of which is being shoved reluctantly into our heads. Will there ever be a time when the world will see true freedom and individualism? Is there a point where my eyes will befall on a true creative reality amongst human beings? Or will these strong vibrations of hope continuously be crushed and flattened by this machine? I cannot answer any of these questions, but I do know that I am not another bolt. I am a perpetual motion machine, restlessly trudging forwards throughout the mud begging for a long-lasting escape into a different dimension of self.

A Short Reprise of Youth

there he sits in disdain,
his hands keeping busy
With the class notes.

His beautiful green eyes,
they are nothing compared –
to the mind inside.

Shoved down by society
begging for a way out,
his lips barely moving
as he says;

“Lives fallout before me
graceless at their feet.
They think too far,
too deeply into
what they see at first.

If I could scream
I would
Scream, Scream, SCREAM
until my throat goes numb.
To get this across,
stop the judges now.

They don’t know how much they hurt.”

We Are All Just S’s

sparkles of sun reflect through the windows
its days like these that make me think.
all wee do is routine (however random)
only for the safety of knowing what’s next
the adventurers of this plain are all dying
gasping for breath beneath others’ hands.

strangers sit accordingly in peace
its situations like these that make me wonder.
To feel uncomfortable with ourselves
as a human race we forget others exist in these places
we think that everybody else is diseased
while we sit ignoring our own diagnosis.

silence engulfs the stop request buttons
its time like these that imprison my mind.
Everybody drowns their day like perfect robots
grasp onto the corners of your personality
the individualistic sticker is peeling of our foreheads
we all furiously rub glue back on them.

streets are lined with all the same
its roads like these that make me want to give up
voices rust with the pipelines below the trenches
eyes are drawn like weapons of mass destruction
shooting into each others questions of disdainful future
these lines barely sway at all.

stupidity drips out of all our pores
its time to blame it on the next person (our faults)
jobs that fill us 9-5 no barroom fights
feet tremble below because of the people above
we all feel like we have nothing to offer this world
time to crip out the blackened pieces of humanity.

sweet suckles trace my skin like lurid fire
its interactions like these that keep me going
in this world of S’s it’s difficult to find difference
still it leaps out of me through earthly orbs
hands that hold firm purple flowers just for me
now I can step back in line for awhile,
with the hope of you pulling me back out.

A Socialists Revolution

Ahead of us lies a time
one that dances our eyes
to fire
Challenging the sanity in our heads
it seems as if we shall
be engulfed
by a secret growing fear
by the darkness that is Liberalism.
It feels as it did before
Heads hung low in shame
///if they raised them
the competition would begin.
take us away,
put out the flame
We live no longer a simple life
There is a growing realization that
w e .  h a v e . d o n e . w r o n g .
All these places have dreams of
westernization for death.
The paint on all the bricks
it peels menacingly
giving us a warning
One we will not heed.
This world is built on;
greed
pride
lust
envy
oh those deadly sins,
If we are all going to hell
who will be up there?
So he sit alone on his throne
There are stereotypes that
flow from ear-to-mouth
almost everything we have
a live with
Ideas seem to run short
eventually the artists will run out of inspiration.
When they come to correct knowledge
that they are just another number
(or maybe they will become inspire more)
Who am I to tell?
There is no reason you should trust me
– and find truth in these words
As just another number+
+influenced by them
maybe speaking for them
But I sit gasping for air
to rise above the dirt
(of the falling anthill)
If you wish to listen
to believe
ignore the words in between
I am in fear
that the best days have passed
We are on a slippery slope
of our own doing.
So all I really have to say is;

Ahead of us lies a time…

To bring horrible suffering to this hateful species
To bury us all alive with nothing in our heads
To become distraught with no more thought
Delusions of contusions in our feeling
To be swept apart piece-by-piece
To never stop staring in those holes
To fall beneath those familiar edges
lesions of mispleasins’.

This is not good doubled
We will fall threw
What would happen in a totally collectivist society??
Where would IIIII goto?
Is the world really that bad?
Do we really have too much freedom
–Too much I.
P.O.P
To feel your fingers on my skin
This place has become one
of curiousity
dis
tinc
tion

between the lines.

*Shadow Soldier Unite* (Old)

Some kind of revolution is coming after the armageddon and during the propiganda of some corrupted government situated lie that destroy’s our lives and wails out a battle cry of sudden silence in the most curcial death of our thoughts that incases us all in the same society but different classes of honour and pride. This secrecy of mine is ewer solace in hell and the all eternal life. Kill me now before my eyes must bear this cold hard fate of the humanity of this world eye’m forced to reside on. There seems to be no escape but the many facade suicides of my daily life. Kill the screaming, kill the beast from within my black heart. Now time to wake…Up!!!

This world is the garbage can for wasted formalities, building up and feeling an immense decay. Some sweet sensation urges us to live on and to not dig the knife into the moonlight skin stretched across our wrists which hold our life-line. Learn to live with passion and forge those false laws that itch at the skin under our revealing garments. Ewe think ewe’re hiding all ewer secrets and wurds when we stare at ewe with scolding eyes, written in blood, and in pain, and in shame above ewer closed eyes that describe ever fetal self. Harm is scratched deeply into ewer thigh, where those lonely emo tears slide down onto. Eye hate the way ewe act, eye hate the way ewe look and feel about this world of ewers. My wings expand into enormous beasts that capture ewer lies and web ewe inside of them. Some feeble death of my suicidal self takes place before ewe and all ewe do is smile expectedly. Kiss these wicked lips one last time which have my victims blood tearing down from them. Eye am reborn, into something bigger and stronger. Along with the good lonlieness inside my heart because eye finally rid myself of ewe.

My mission is to seek and destroy ewer sanity as ewe did to mine. If ewe wish to save ewer soul from a weak anarchy let the spiders claw at ewer eyes and crawl into ewer mouth. Swallow, eat them ewe filthy sinner! God is a fraud that reigns power over the weak and intimidates the strong.

Shadow Soldiers. Heed my words for eye’m part of ewer species, we are ready for battle as deadly poets with a knife and a sadistic smile we shall slice ewe. There is no surrender, my species. For there are few of us out there! This time is our act of revenge. Eye am ewer one and ONLY messenger so there is no telling ewe twice. We must protect and invade with everything we have deep within ourselves. We are but mere worms to secretly crush them all. We are not their slaves even though they point and imprison us. They can no longer hurt us, as one the parasites shall suffer and the traitors will fall to their knees before us. Our weapons are words, our battle cry is our emotions and the spiders inside. For that ewer now walking away. We are cannibles. We shall eat ewe. Wait, it’s not over…Why are ewe walking away from our posession?

Before Work (Old)

Crush the pact, enable the deaths and create a new society in which you yourself rule as Queen and bridge a nice aquaintence with those you truly loath. Your life goal shines before me as bright as the stars up above as you title yourself high and all powerful even though I could make you shiver with my stare of hate. Some kind of knowing has dawned deep upon you, stepping on my hopes and dreams as you squash those everlasting biblical lies and take out those who do not follow you directly for you feed on the weak and the strong give you theirs. My life is probably less than that of a peasent to you, my voice is just an annoying squeak off in the distance as I hollow to the moon for my salvation and demand my freedom like so many before me yet I am one to never give up and I am one whom bottles with anger and hate yet nothing else. When I look at your Kingdom I see power and money along with high class society, but when I stare you into the eyes I see fear and so much doubt hidden behind a facade which you have even come to believe in. The only thing that anyone should believe in is in themselves and in doing so believing in their abilities to take the next person up down until a new society is built out of rebellions and criminals, theifs, murderers, rapists, everyone is far from innocent in that place where the dead roam freely about in daylight. It is the perfect society for those who wish to repent do so by staying in line since normality is death and blood and slaughter and the more gruesome things that have come to your mind. Imagine a little innocent girl walking home at night…(Fast forward)…four minutes later she lay dead on the pavement of a dark alleyway with her skull bashed in and her blood still seeping out of her even though her heart has stopped and her eyes lay open with fear even after she is gone and her soul is lost forever wondering in that place of hers where no one could hear her horrid screams that pushed violently out from her lungs as she kicked and pushed as the stronger being viciously took her life right from under her nose. That would happen in your society where rebellion is rape and bloody murder. Whereas in my perfect place it is normal to do so, and there is no such thing as cops so what will those rebellious bunch do then? So next time you think of the perfect society don’t think of some happy place with happy families everywhere, think of hell on earth with fires bringing down homes everyday and families torn apart by war and soldiers marching the streets because that is the only true perfect society if you really put your head to it.