People

Crow Bars

Folder: 
2017

I like to get to know people

To learn about them

And get them to open up.

 

Therefore, I always carry around things

So that I can pry people open

Until I’m surrounded by a pile of broken crowbars.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 8/9/17

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tags:

So Rich So Poor

I was once so god damned rich
Might be hard to understand
To have anything you wish -
No matter how large or grand

For many years I did own
In the heart of Beverly Hills
The very loveliest home
With all the finest of frills

Two acres and twenty rooms
Silk sheets gold plated brooms
Maids drivers and every tool
My life was easy and very cool

Then came the financial fire
Of two thousand and eight
I lost everything but my ire
For I saw the truth too late

Endless dominos were falling
Mandelbrot’s fractal chain
With human voices calling
In choruses of deep pain

I had my share of dominos
And debt to crooked banks
So I suffered mighty throes
And to them give no thanks

The descent was immediate
The depression hard to stop
It seemed that nothing fit
And everything was locked

Irony - pair of dice in human hand
I say looking down at Beverly Hills
Earning cash - giving sexual thrills
In the back of some stranger’s van

You say it could not happen to you
You are too smart - or this or that
But if it did - what would you do
To deal with the new set of facts

Could you - would you - should you
Where - how - when and how much
Who with - what’ll you have to do
And will you ever again find luck

There are so many questions
When you are totally broke
And too many indiscretions
Before it’s all writ and spoke

I was once so god-damned rich
And now I am so damned poor
If it wasn’t for those I’d miss
I’d say - I don’t want any more

Aggressive Warhead

Folder: 
Poetry

I was at home,

Relaxed and alone.

I lay sleeping,

The darkness was reaping.

 

Then I heard the sound;

Crushed windows all around.

Everything was destroyed,

Of glass everything devoid.

 

Then I heard Warhead at my door,

Personification of Balthazor.

The glass broke into shivers,

Splinters were in my flesh delivered.

 

In spite of my fear,

At Warhead I did appear.

And tried to calm him down,

And he stopped throwing things around.

 

Everything seemed to be well,

Warhead had changes of mood, I can tell.

And Lays-chips was lying there,

I wouldn't touch it, I declared;

'cause it belonged to Warhead.

 

Hours later, Warhead came down;

In his anger still drowned.

He wanted his stuff,

But I knew he would bluff.

Always talking about guns,

But the true deed he shuns.

Though I was confused,

His stuff was unused.

Is what Ramses did tell,

And so ended this hell...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Something that happened to me in real life and a dream I had afterwards.

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Abra The Bully

Folder: 
Poetry
Abra suddenly appeared;
He knocked on my door.
But I was startled,
So I slammed the door.
 
Later I went into the hallway,
And there he called me bitch.
I thought he would beat me up,
But he turned his back and went away.
Author's Notes/Comments: 

An event in my life,

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Feeding the Rich

Ruffling a few feathers
stepping on truffle treasures,
now these earthly pleasures
are inedible
maybe spreadable 
but I’m skeptical,
is it ethical to serve
these chemicals to the herds
of people that populate this place?

 

There is nothing to lose 
please bring the booze, 
We’ll be busy and dizzy
I cannot refuse
these unenthused excuses 
this 'Executive Level - Mouthful of Dirt',
we can even put it in their dessert.

 

Getting a little technical,
truffles aren't vegetables
we’ll make them injectable
a 'Signature Selectable!',
the dish will be 
delectable to the delegates,
the unelectable, disrespectful
neglectful fools are dumb enough
to stuff it 
and be confused~
they'll believe it's infused with molecules from jewels.

 

The fucking tools.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

We cook and care for the Pigs at the top while they spill us the scraps. Sometimes not even that. Time to change the menu. We are the Power.

It's a Metaphor! (I'm not good at titles)

A seemingly infinte amount of books line shelves old and new

You can't possibly read them all, but shouldn't settle for just a few

The cover is a starting point for weeding through the masses
Even though its what the author wants you to see, not necessarily what is past it

Some books have lost their covers too

Taken apart by readers that came before you

Whether the cover is hard or soft

The pages it protects, holds the truths that you've sought

Your world could be warped by the words of one page

You could flip through a thousand and find they had nothing to say

There's no guarantee of what you will find

But I urge you keep looking, and yes it takes time

For if you've found a story that never gets old

You can read it each night and new love still unfolds

Then you already know there's nothing better you can do

Than looking for that book that was written just for you

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A HUNDRED YEARS AGO

 

A hundred years ago, a shivering maiden watched the snow

Every flake unique they said, but she knew they weren’t different

Cold, wet and insignificant each with a little secret

And no matter the form

it will all become one with the rest of them

 

She caught a single flake in her pale cold hands

And as it melted, she could no longer tell

 

If it was ever there in the first place

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tags:

Scorpio

Within my majestic eyes, there's a sea of darkness

 

Shrouded with mystery, a solitary ocean

 

Rippling waves of intense emotions.

 

Soft as a blanket yet sharp as blades.

 

Pursuing passions, through dominance and dynamicity.

 

These eyes, ablaze with burning intensity

 

Passion, romance and intimacy with of hint of jealousy.

 

Tread on my tail lightly, never feed me lies,

 

Your facades that are transparent to me

 

Because I'll peel back layer upon layer of you

 

Because my personality presents itself in various shades,

 

True colours aren't hard to release from their cage and I'll see right through

 

I'm a beautiful ocean of secrets

 

The representation of a water sign

 

But only those who can handle me,

 

Can swim exclusively.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem for all the Scorpios out there :) written by a Scorpio, describing how she is herself.

There is no Obligation

There is no obligation.

No urge, no restraint, no frustration.

A weak chain that in the wind may blow,

A strong and sturdy, heavy chain, no.

There is no choice,

No choice to be made.

No need to rejoice,

No suffering forbade.

 

For us to make meet, there are no ends,

For I see no obligation there, my friends.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

...

 

Well, here's a good way to end this after I've pushed aside a thought from my mind:

 

With a sword.

o-==-[>>>>>>>>>>>

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