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a menpleaser's paradise

I can promise you

this guaranteed allyship

my all out support

I'm going to be your friend

for anything—right or wrong

Scream, scream, screaming:

Help those drowning 

all around

and they look to their coffers,

and the piles fill into the coffins--

The tide is coming in and the flood

is just getting worse:

there's a rage building in the dead,

and we'll speak for them. 

Wretched bodies flung into a funeral pyre,

and the silence is deafening upon the pile,

and we see our love burned to ashes,

and we see their hands deep in pockets.

Cold hard cash for the winners and 

death sentences for everyone else. 

There's a cold rage building in the dead

and we'll speak for them. 

The march of the dead is coming and 

pitchforks are on our side this time.

Too big to fail too big to fall to big to take on

too big for their own good too big so

let's build ourselves and let them know

we're too big to ignore.

There's a cold rage building in the dead and

it just keeps growing and

we'll speak for them. 

If we're face down, six feet under, it doesn't matter

if their cash piles grow and grow

in the face of God they pray, bow, and pretend

it's fine as long as they say sorry

and it won't be. 

A cold rage is building in the dead,

am ember burning

threatening to blow it apart

and it just keeps growing

and

we'll speak for the dead. 

Doorstep

Automatic mode,

Our minds can also close off

Noticeably so

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

 Lyrics: 

"he's such an uppity motherfucker

dripping with douchebaggery

but he's got swag..."

*   *   * 

a collective of offended morons

who share a narrow world view

with every keystroke 

prancing along with blinders

to pervert what they see as truth

internet superheroes

 hive minded individuals

who see insufferable injustice

in every word uttered

a culture of victimhood found

in every innocuous glance their way

the first world problems of today

magnified by fanatics and sheer idiocy

social justice warriors on their high horse riding on

one way trip down the rabbit's shithole

"it's ok,  it's all a fucking safe place"

"the world as it really is and always will be can't hurt your delicate sensabilities here"

"just cover your ears and close your eyes"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!"

la la la

la-tee-da

la la la

la-tee-do

la la la

this has nothing to do with you

la la la

la-tee-da

la la la 

la-tee-do

la la la

but maybe someday you'll piece together the fucking clues

we're the disease

and there can be no justice

as long as our race breathes

we'll always hate

we'll always kill

we'll always subjugate

we always have and always will

lyrics:

the wretched amongst the purists

quietly creeping along the outskirts

no conscious, no remorse

take it all through force

your freedom is not thinking

your freedom is not thinking

may there be no peace

may there be no satisfaction

melding together the scraps

destroy the means of edification

victims of cause

colossal the bonds

scourge of the cat-o'-nines (alleviate through the pain)

taking the time (forgiveness takes restraint)

no conscious, no remorse

take it all through force

your freedom is not thinking

your freedom is not thinking

pleasure in the pain (you reconcile)

the promises made (you reconcile)

victims of the cause (the wretched amongst the purists)

colossal the bonds (creep along the outskirts)

scourge of the cat-o'-nines (pleasure in the pain)

taking the time (the promises made)

A great land filled with crooks and tyrants where shall we go.  My great country once but now taken for everyone not their foes.   Born here and all that I know, Grabbing my kids and on we go.  Looking high and looking low for a place not so greedy and trying to not let the sadness show.  We all line up to vote to elect someone else better, but not realizing the one we gave vote was swinging a fake banner.     They promise a future for then and for now we wake up to realize that is was for their fat cow.  We beg for our share for them to care but they hear us not I’m just glad we have our cot.    

 Written by,   Rob Casteel

Treats, and Trickster's ghoulish-ly 
entertaining the popular vote; 
immigration reform is on the ballot
once more, looking more like a 
menu dessert item, condiments 
cost extra.

Masks covered by masks,
Costume Forums, a masquerade 
masquerading day and night, dreams 
and nightmares. Knocking on my 
door with political propaganda as if 
my views were wrong for being 
different than theirs.

There is no US or THEM only YOU

and ME standing united, our fall

divided by a vote, which most live

and die for. The only vote that counts

is what the MAN says; voting is a

systematic approach to classify the

masses, labeled mindsets, puppets,

a trickster's treat.

Soulkritic® 2014©

Faith is unbound by extremist pressure,
Lick the wounds of a liberal fissure.
The point-blank wound given an emissary,
A Soluble cure for the target preliminary.