government

"Living" Homeless

Folder: 
D. E. A. F.

It's funny how attitudes change,

when people find out you are alone.

That you have no pillow to rest your head,

nor a bed to call your own.

Sometimes even family will turn their back,

and slowly look the other way.

But still somehow manage to ask you favors,

or for a cut of your pay.

But they don't care if at night,

you're frreezing before you lay on the ground.

Then when your hungry they don't care,

or hear when your starving stomach makes a sound.

But yet when all is okay,

and you have a place to live and food to eat.

They want to be the first ones to know,

and congradulate you getting on your feet.

The government doesn't seem to care either.

If they did I wouldn't be here in the first place?

And what of all these starving children,

give them a bagel and watch them stuff their face.

I know what it feels like to be "Living" Homeless,

except you can't really say you're lving, right?

When everyone gones inside and locks their doors,

and your forced to battle the weather for the night?

When no one cares what happens to you,

not the government, or family, and that's about it.

So if you ever end up "Living" Homeless,

be prepared for excuses and bullsh*t.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I won't divulge whether this is personal or not but it is meaningful. Give Feedback.

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What are they teaching our children?

I cannot begin to fathom how I work so goddamn hard for years, scraping together every coin I can get my hands on in order to save and end up in a bottomless pit where I cannot see a light. There was once a light when I was young, but that light has gotten dimmer over the years. How can this country pride itself in being a land of dreams when I've been here for 20 years with nothing to show for it? I am having my independence slowly stripped away from me all because I follow every law, every rule, every guideline this country has put in front of my face since birth. When other countries criticize Americans, they should be criticizing the government who runs it, not the people who live in it. The people who run it no longer know what it means to live. They simply do; they do not think.

In the eye of the creator

The year is 2065, her name is Jen-1; status, obsolete. Selection, dismantling. Her self-directive; To escape termination, to transport her own dying body back to the creator before depletion. Transport of choice, one of the last gasoline engines in existence; saved from extinction, hidden from the corporate/government holocaust of the old world; a 1993 Corvette ZR1. What will become of her? What will be the fate of the one who chooses the freedom of existence?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Jen-1 is the title of a poem I've written, but has nothing to do with this story. I may, at some point change the name of the character. For now it will do.

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Short Verse #7 *July 4, 2012*

Short Verse #7
*July 4, 2012*

How could I in good conscious enjoy or celebrate this holiday? Independence day; A hollowed meaning to what was once our greatest achievement. Where no man, woman, or rank could take away your god given rights. Here we are now, walking the ever dangerous, intent on spitting on the very constitution that has sealed our rights for so many years. Years of complacency has lured people into believing in a false sense of security, that their “rights” could never be taken from them, it would be just “uncivilized” Only what those automatons fail to realize is that the only thing keeping evil men from wrapping that noose around your neck are those declarations, those parchments. How can you say we are free, when unjust laws command me to buy or face taxation for something I do not want, and cannot afford. You can justify your reasons why this form of socialism is needed, you can even make excuses as to why you so clearly set it up the way it was but the truth of the matter, all distractions aside, the bottom line that no one wants to see, is the attack on our own personal liberties, to be secure in our own possessions, professions, and the god given rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. With the every oppressing laws being forced to those who cannot even support their families is a violation to those rights and I will not participate in your lunacy, may you all find your bliss in your new slave nation.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just something that came to me a lil bit ago.

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Rebellion

TV flashes on.
An aged newsman sits behind an oak desk with images of fire and contempt blinking behind him. People in the street, fists raised and faces covered. Blind anger built on blind knowledge. Furious at the system that’s been instilled and followed by none other than themselves.
A Molotov cocktail cracks on a police car. A news van crashes onto its side. Rapture jumps on the van’s passenger window. The glass shatters and blood is bled. The man cries agony and blames anything but himself.
Young field reporter stating it’s senseless, reckless, and anything but justifiable. Notwithstanding the bottling up of oppression over years from profit hungry animals. Insurrectionary joy has surged through the people like a sudden pulse of energy.
The media quells the uprising. “It’s just a few pranksters. Go to sleep. You’re safe in your homes.”

Author's Notes/Comments: 

No comment

An Empire of Ash

An Empire of Ash
(Within a land of Dreams)

“We are the mighty Trojans behind our wall,
watching and waiting for the day it will fall.”

Our empire is massive, an envy to the world to behold. Massive in its beauty and ugly in its strength. The men and women who build it's great army which will be remembered in history throughout the centuries are our brothers, and our sisters. They represent the foundation, the mortar to the wall. We have been taught to believe that democracy is the only and right course of action, the “moral” choice of politics, and while true for the most part, a society cannot thrive within a mob rule. To promote these values with force also as if adding salt to an already infected gash.
This is not the country I was born and raised in, twisted and corrupted I no longer recognize the land in which my forefathers had settled and established. These fields of green now elude me and the ground has become foreign. Laws written in code to fool the simple mind, absurd and yet like clock work drones upon drones of mindless sheep step in line to get their daily dose of 'bullshit'.

This world and it's inhabitants have grown strange, to me and mine. Feeling as if sanity has been lost to the madness like a disease spreading viral by glance. Backwards logic fooled by the twisting of words, snaking your perception by deceit. Slithering into the minds of those asleep or still dreaming. They will wake, staring down the barrel of chaos as their nightmares pull the trigger. Finding yourself lost within the proverbial forest. So much is wrong, in this reality. We can feel it, we can see it, and we can sense it on all levels of morality. A bad trip, a bad ego, drama within a coma.

Do I, through these eyes of perception truly see this world any differently?
That deep down I am screaming this is wrong, the whole paradigm is wrong?
When its all said and done, and I am dead. Will I be the one who looked mad?

~addendum~

“Take me to Valhalla, pin me to the world tree Yggdrasil.
So that I may understand the truth, allowing my mind to see
past the lies and deceptions, the myths and the legends.
The shadows to the sciences of the godless.
String me up next to Odin, as I witness the understanding of conscious
thought, the meaning and value behind the eyes knowledge.”

~*~

Watch as the world you knew falls to ashes, dust to an illusion so grand, so mysterious.
Like snow on a battlefield where two sides clashes, How does one understand that god is us?
We act like children who just lost their guardian, so much hate thrives in your blood, bitter to the taste
We have became blinded by our own sin, how far we have fallen from our own beautiful grace.

Walk with me, in this garden of dreams. Share with me the sent of all possibilities.
Shaping our future to change our fate, a chapter to be written by what we create.
What if it were all just a dream, that the true illusion is us just being.
On the quantum level death is but an overture, for we are all born from a star.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This has been a two day project, was hoping to have if finished last night but just couldnt stay awake. These are some of my views on current as well as past tends. My feelings towards current events, and the like.

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For Those Who Want To Hear

Folder: 
Philosophy

The warm hearth is for the lonely
and the poet's pen for words
that warm the hearts of those too long out in the cold
too long numbed by the dulness of inhumanity.

***

You watched the sky and wondered -
longing to see the heavens
grasping the imperfect permanence that is humanity.
But you were made for eternal perfection.

***

So hear the words of long ago -
by their legion standard stood proud soldiers
they shouted words both noble and daring
but they were words of hate.

***

And hear the words of men of peace -
humility engraved in their hearts
marked by love for countryland.
Abandoned, an inconvenience.

***

These words were written for those who listen.
And as for those who have been willing to hear,
man pours out his heart, on paper and ink.

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financial erosion


they dont care were in a recession
speeding down the road to depression
the government spends on what we cant name
were all pawns in thier sick money game

*slowly loosing our homes, forced into the streets
with no fucking shelter and no food to eat!

hording the oil and hording the funds
spending thier money on military guns
fighting a war stimulates the economy
well never see a dime lifetime monatony

*

loosing our money while loosing our minds
in god we trust but he shows no signs
grinding for bread but thirsty for more
opportunity slips away, the depression shut the door

*

breakdown
they dont care greed is thier disease
they dont care get on your fucking knees!2X 

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