Culture/Society

I Can't Be Slutty(Can You?)[2009 edition]

Folder: 
Thought For Food

they rise from the dead, everyday in the city

not in the highrises, at least not the wealthy

the world once again they face like a mistress

knowing she'll be beaten by her lover but won't leave him



they cry and they plead

but they give in

far worse then a battered woman

corporate whores by day

exhausting prostitution

but this is the reality you arent fixing

and nobodies listening

when you whine but dont pop the cork

on a social revolution

a political demand is not voting for these politicians

how many times have you believed in

given votes to the biggest pack of thieves

last president made the Mansons look like hippies

his vice pres shooting faces better then clinton

and when you start to realize obama's a puppet

is right about the time when you really start to get it



and you don't lay there and get raped under any circumstances

because you look where its going and your taking chances

making people dizzy with the truth

despite phone tapping done by s.s. troops

hoping tomorrow that "Ignorance

Is Dead" is written on the new york times cover but you know better



the media won't light the candle

the truths not too hot to handle

they play out plenty of scandals

but its the ones shown that signal



you must end this transmission and start thinking

why its always bling, green or terrorism

over and over and over again dismissing

any questions that might damage the fuzzing

of americas youth and senior citizens

the wisemen and future generations

and of course they've got to have the biggest bracket

tired from work they're ready to let you have it

i've got more to say on this but let me stop to let



you rise from the dead, everyday in the city

not in the highrises, at least not the wealthy

the world once again you face like a mistress

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Diplomats For Hopelessness

Folder: 
Thought For Food

you walk a straight line long enough

and you'll see

the longest winding road



you march on the drumbeat long enough

and you'll see,

you'll hit the hardest wall



call me crazy but you'd think they'd pad those things

winding my way between stares..at a screen



surrounded by faces that are exit signs

enter left, enter right

come to the same conclusion,

buried a few feet under the solution



diplomats for hopelessness

t-shirts from the circus

but i prefer not feeding the animals



now, you talk a straight line long enough

and you'll see

talking heads spin like wind vanes



you sit in against the drums all alone

and you'll see,

you have to stand against it all



call me lazy but you think you'll ever do a thing?

winding my way between stares..at a screen



surrounded by facimilies

worth even less mass-produced

come to the same conclusion

but to me..they always had much more potential



then they were lead to believe

by the t/v

and the text book that tied them down

saying they could be anything



under these circumstances



diplomats for hopelessness

t-shirts from the circus

but i prefer not feeding the animals



bread and water

trapped in their own prison

to the adopted beliefs are these orphans



surrounded by some friends that are exit wounds

back and to the left, enter right

victims and maybe criminals

fog lays a few feet over the evidence



understand that i love them



diplomats for hopelessness

t-shirts from the circus

but i prefer not feeding the animals



bread and water

trapped in their own prison

to the adopted beliefs are these orphans



maybe they just need time we're running out of

understand that i love them

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02-15 Waiting Tables, Charts, and Graphs

Folder: 
DailyPoetryProject

Oh, what a beautifully displayed menagerie

color coded, sized, organized

thoughts like pretty folded paper

in shapes of pure delight

slopped onto trays in buffet monotony

shuffling lines with minds mesmorized

in all you can eat self-defeat

begging second helpings

from the man with spatula and ladel

greased with beady eyes

staring down the starving children

as if they’d had enough

yet all the while he knows the fatal

truth of what is in the food

an antidote to consciousness

that keeps the fools aloof

from the world and from themselves

swept away in fantasy

carpe diem minds distract deception

from their whithering to bones

How shameful all these loaded shelves

victims of economic tides

fresh potential dust collecting

expiration loosing time

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Please sir, may I have some more?

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02-14 Fresh Batch of Ignorance

Folder: 
DailyPoetryProject

Ingredients:

1 cup miniature morsels of truth

1 cup inflated ego

1/2 cup fact

3 cups opinion

1/4 cup misinterpretation

1 1/2 cups individual perception

1 tablespoon extract of sarcasm

2 tablespoons double standard

1 teaspoon common sense (optional)



Combine opinion, fact and misinterpretation

in whatever vessel you like and mix until

it all looks the same. Then fold in ego.

Set aside.

In seperate bowl, combine remaining

ingredients, careful not to let perception

expand before mixing, beat until smooth.

Sprinkle morsels of truth on top of mis-

interpreted fact/opinion mix, then top with

sarcastic double standard closed mind mix.



Let set overnight until grey area becomes

black and white. Ask only the questions which

cannot be answered in the time you allow.



Voila, you have a believable shroud with which

to hide behind, away from reality, away from

the bigger picture, and away from the real

unadulterated answers, but it will appear that

you searched out the whole truth to the best

of your ability, and hungry minds need look

no further than the plate you offer.



This dish is best served lukewarm, with a tall

glass of denial and a side of aged uncaring

for things which have no short term importance

to the bottom line.



From the kitchen of America Inc.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

tasty

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Yellow Bird

Folder: 
Thought For Food

you're a yellow bird

rising from the lake

the glowing lake

the urinate



the urination

of some giant office

they say it's a bird bath

you excitedly land in

they say it's good luck

good luck

well, good luck

you're a yellow bird

eating out of their hands

scared of pigeon lady

cause they say



she's just crazy



well, good luck

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CharlaXDarwinianDay

CharlaXDarwinianDay

CharlaXDarwinianDay





A golfer is potting on the greens. His first pot is north for 10 meters. His Second attempt at potting is south of west at Two meters and 25 degrees left of center field. His final pot travels east of south at half a meter and sixty degrees to the potting hole. What is the distance traveled by the potting ball the magnitude and the direction of the overall Darwinian assessment. Who cares is it a Birthday with Cake? This is mye rendition of Darwins Beagle. Woof woofer woof woof weoof. Weooeeooof. Beouf. Let them eat cake. Let Beagle eat beef. Or Alpo in a can let him out. Let him run and try to get away from that Beagle in the way. February 12, 2009 Author: charlax7 Happy Birthday Darwin Happy Birthday Darwin

Monkey´s See Monkey´s Do Not

The monkeys and the addresses

Placing 100 monkeys inside the computer room and letting them type the sound of the keyboards is deafening making a poor noise of institutionalistical importance. The professor killed himself he overdosed on his banana he gagged his throat and died. They did not type the Gettysburg address they typed and typed and this is what they typed they made it gibberish there is nothing much a monkey types that a poet can ever use.

http://poetrypoem.com/cgi-bin/index.pl?poemnumber=817006&sitename=charla...

copy and past

charlax.hice@yahoo.com

http://www.postpoetryonline.com/poetry.cfm?id=12537

Author's Notes/Comments: 

darwin birthday celebration charlax stYle

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02-08 There is a Choice in Every Movement

Folder: 
DailyPoetryProject

There is a new tomorrow

arriving piece by piece,

waiting to be assembled

by careful, compassionate hands.

It sits in warehouses

of future construction

until someone decides

the need is great enough to put it all together,

and we are the assembly line,

and time is the foreman,

reality is the delivery system.



There is a push so great,

from a source

that makes the universe seem microscopic

most will have no choice

but to fall.

Only those with deeply reaching roots

could even hope

to withstand the torrent of wisdom

bringing down skyscrapers like flames on a wick.

Mountains will move,

but the rooted will stand,

ready to embrace a better way

as justice burns barriers into the ground.



There is a new tomorrow

that you won’t read about in papers,

or see on television.

The networks want it censored

out of self-preservation.

Still invasive,

a glimpse can be caught

from all around

with the right way to look.

Can’t think outside of the box,

until the box is found and broken down,

cut open by the refusal to go along with this

charade

any longer,

burned by the fire behind the eyes

of a vision that pierces through the atoms

as the realization hits

that we are more energy than matter,

more soul than body,

more transitive than these four dimensions allow,

or seem to.



There is a structure

behind every event and circumstance,

every setting

and every moment,

that cannot be fully fathomed.

So complex, it can only be a simplicity

like a flood that cannot be contained

by a mere collection of thoughts

scribbled in margins.

They are fools who think

they can explain what they haven’t seen made,

and haven’t even met the architect.



There is a longing

daily replaced by shadows and shells,

empty things that hold no meaning

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02-04 Circumvention Smile

Folder: 
DailyPoetryProject

Turn it up.

Smooth

rhythm fingers dancing

over melodies of bent distorted lines

with wanton disarray,

disorganized between the minds

of hide and seek surrender,

looking forward to a time

of mental sound emancipation.



Break it down.

Cruel

crooked disconnection

rears its ugly head between distorted lines

among the power play

of savage hearts with severed minds

with double meaning diction,

splitting tongues in half each time

the knife returns to find its victim.



Get it out.

Blood

clots around the exit

wound that throbs around the black distorted lines

where I can place my grip

to pull the weapon sharpened minds

from backs that beg for healing,

thanking life while biding time

to watch unfolding justice quicken.



Take it in.

Crude

twisted angle method

crave control, manipulate distorted lines.

Instead of coming clean,

discover ways to trick the minds

of bridges turning ember

taking opportunistic time

to plot another self-deception



Turn it up.

Smooth

rhythm fingers dancing

over melodies of bent distorted lines

with wanton disarray,

disorganized between the minds

of hide and seek surrender,

looking forward to a time

of mental dream emancipation.



Where for once we can be just real

drop the guard and take a dive

complete

in each other’s company



no need to shield intention

we can lay out all our yearning

on the table with the rest

face up for all to see



then we can build a house of cards

that will never topple down

that holds against the storms

of selfishness and greed



there’s room for everyone to live

and we can help each other thrive

in a light among the water

as we grow, together seek



Smooth

rhythm fingers dancing

over melodies of bent distorted lines

with wanton disarray,

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Before I knew it, it became a song.

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Anything You Want(edit)

Folder: 
Thought For Food

my dreams have most always been beyond my resources

they say you can do anything you want, but that's bullshit

once they said a chicken in every pot but who had a pot?

everything cost money and look, some don't got



know we have to get a job doing something we can't stand and

they say you can save up your money for your wish, but the poor can't

as the years go passing by like heartless people past homeless folks,

forget saving cause you're in debt just..just to live



well i had many dreams in my life

you might refuse to believe how many times i've tried

you hear inuendos from politicians calling us lawless

well what can you do without money when you run for office



what can you do without money when you run for office

you've got to have money to get elected, you've got to have corporate friends

you have to sell your soul, i guess..-and i can't do that

you can't do 'anything you want' under that format



a stranger said "i wanted to eat but i had no money, and no place to live

they won't give me a job when i'm dressed like this"

a child of homelessness or a forgotten vet

a face of outsourcing and job cut backs



and i want to dream but i have no reason, and what chance to take

they blockade my start, i live like this

a child of hopelessness and a forgotten way

a face of the future and love cut backs

i declare love is dead

a face of the future and love cut backs

i declare love is dead

at least on life support



what can you do without money when you run for office

you've got to have money to get elected, you've got to have corporate friends

you have to sell your soul, i guess..-and i can't do that

you can't do 'anything you want' under that format



and i don't want to be president, anyway

the point i'm making is in the word play

they say "you can do anything", to the kids

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The saga of the poor. The siege of the country.

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