BRUTALITY

Brutal Rodeo

Folder: 
Animal Rights

*






Agents of mammal murder ranches

amuse the crowd./

Sometimes they tear in half

an innocent baby calf


saiom shriver


Footnote:


Spectrum Cable, Rupder Murdoch's Fox Sports, & KHOU Houston profiteer from the brutal calf roping, steer wrestling, horse abuse which are part of the bloody industrySof raising mammals for murder

 

 
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thrown under the bus

nowadays all she does is whine about her bodily pains,

but when you were left alone, 

she stayed drunk, prowling the bars

days on end, 

oblivious to the emotional wreckage left

on your chest, like a hot iron

melted through the tender heart of a 10 year old,

the open wound to the 

skin, 

cauterized shut

too soon,

without even leaving any open flesh

for the pain to be released,

seared closed with the shame, pain, and false pride of generations,

sealed in for years like a safety box of magnets,

pulling you towards anything and everything self-destructive

in a desperate search for some morsel of hope,

that the next christmas dinner might be more than 

knocking on the doors of neighbors, being lucky enough to be

asked in to share a holiday meal, 

and an attempt to be noticed for something other than the burden

you were to her deep and fervent longing for 

the escape, into smoke filled rooms,

that reeked with the heavy, putrid smell of week-old frying grease,

cigarettes, and hairspray, that became one of your main

reasons for going to live with your dad--

other than the day she up and left for california,

a 50 dollar bill to substitute her mac and cheese, dribbled with 

one and a half inches of ashes off a pall mall,

only to be less than reluctantly welcomed by him,

and a stepbrother who most always was 

notably more worthy of better dirtbikes, nicer clothes 

and a much more frequent pat on the back 

for a job well done, 

that most often wasn't.

 

a dollar for him and quarter for you, along with the bottom bunk,

that smelled like pee from all the years he wet the bed,

only ever good enough for sloppy seconds--

and then there was brownie,

poor broken down swayback, with skin infections,

baldspots and degenertive bone disease,

in light of your brother's black stallion stud,

as if the 6 inch scar on the back of your leg wasn't enough 

from your father's drunken rage with a 4 inch hunting knife,

and the glass from the window that left it's souvenir the night he threw you

across the room, all before the age of 14.

 

shit.

i may have shot that horse between the eyes too.

 

 

 

 

11:37 PM 6/26/2013

©

 

 

.........

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just a poem about a kid.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=

 

.....

Fuck the Police.

The people who are suppose to serve and protect
Abuse their powers that's why they don't deserve respect
How are the people suppose to ask them for help
When they are scared when they find out how things are dealt
The saying "the punishment fits the crime" doesn't apply to them
As you can tell the chief's common sense is as good as pretend
So I agree with people when they say "FTP"
They're the same as the bullies but use brutality
Innocent people being pushed around and falsely accused
being thrown in jail, while the douche-bags are amused
we pay them, So we're their CEO
We should decide who stays and who goes
Some of them are good, but that is very rare
The others should be fired and taken to a daycare
Where they'll be surrounded by people who are very similar
And they all have the same name, They are criminals.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Too many stories about police brutality.

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TEARS DROP.

Folder: 
2006

 

 

 

                                  TEARS DROP.

 

 

   Give me an electric guitar and I shall light up the sky!

Waiting for something to happen, but I feel so good,

I wonder and then again, I would lies,

If I did not know why my haemoglobins glow in the dark!

I am so far I sometimes wonder if I shall ever comeback.

But for what?

That the question who has been ra ttlingthe back of my mind!

Reality taste rather bitter and has no colours,

Just a plain texture, fill with the same pattern!

As I draw on the kitchen table!

 

Remember me mummy,

I was so quiet then, I would never say a word,

I was almost deaf to the screams,

And my silence was so loud inside me!

I wish I could have stand up, but I was only a child!

 

So I kept drawing stars,

In a black sky, multicolour stars,

Perfect on the paper,

Proud I would give the same sketches to my teachers,

I wonder if they knew, the meaning of those?

 

Each ones was a words,

I kept silence, while I try to loose my vision,

I truly live like some creeple child,

No visual concept, no voice, no ears…

I though this would last forever!

 

Looking back, I was already lost in my world,

Mystical and magic.

While all along we were under the treat of his brutality!

I knew so young to keep secrets,

But secrets kills is it not true mummy?

 

Look at me now!

Oh yes, I have never left this garden,

As a matter of fact, I hold the keys tightly,

And once in a while, I open the gates of hell,

To invite more macabre vices!

 

So many have try and falls,

To the sense of my sweet orchids!

Feast for the eyes, man eaters…

I never wanted this,
but how can I bring the sun where laid my bones?

 

Can’t you see I am still a child?

The same one, who would draw stars,

In the darkness I live for ten years.

It was so lonely, I lost myself so often!

Screaming for help….

 

So I learn to make this wild garden,

A place of love, a peculiar feeling indeed,

Guilty, I guess as sins,

But sins was the blessing,

Who run upon my forehead!

 

And today, I finally manage to let the rusty doors wide open,

And for eternity it shall be that way!

I trust the hand that will catch me

And call my name,

To take me over the other side!

 

It would be easy to call it: love.

But I know better!

Sadly, it hurt to think of the word,

The slow decline, maybe?

After all, what has he left me with…?

 

I look for to the end of the rain,

Tears drop upon my empty bed,

Like not so long, kisses felt from heaven,

Tonight is like any other nights, unbearable!

 

 

                                  COPYRIGHT@2006.H.NAUDETDITMARGOT.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

10 YEARS IN SILENCE, NO WONDER, I LEARNED TO SPEAK WITH WORDS ON THE PAGE AND BY DRAWINGS.

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