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The Morning AfterThe whole thing was surreal, like one night had lasted for months.
By the end, all that was left were questions.
What really happened in the kitchen?
Where'd Stephy go?
And why did Ben put on all those shirts?
Slowly answers strobe like 'Nam flash backs.
The memories bit by bit tie in.
The moments of stupidity and the moments of genius.
A night we'll never forget
Mostly because we'll never fully remember it.
The hangover might be hell
but the source was heaven
The Landscape of HeartbreakThe Landscape of Heartbreak
A sun scorched wasteland
Where time has no meaning
Inhabited by angels with cast iron halos
Ash where bridges one stood
Slowly losing patience with this empire of dirt
My own personal purgatory
A place my mind never goes but is never far from
This is the landscape of heartbreak
The Beginning of the Endit started with Greed.
She wrapped Her tentacles around their minds,
digging deep into their psyche and corrupting them.
it started with Lust.
He slipped unnoticed into their corrupt brains,
reaching down into their hearts and twisting them.
it started with Pride.
He appeared inside their twisted cores,
pumping His poison through their bodies.
it ended with Wrath.
She took control of their very beings,
forcing the gun to their head and pulling the trigger.
Keep It RealWhereas diasporic communities
Have to been attempting to separate themselves
From harsh sun and seasons,
Without reason, others have built their lives between
The cracks of statements such as:
“Keep it real”
Or, “This shit is dope”.
Motherfuckers better realize
Now, is time to self-actualize.
Daughters of SocietyWe are the daughters of the lost and the damned,
with black rings under our eyes,
both of which married without my blessing,
and don’t seem to be in any
position for separation soon.
We are the daughters
who were told and told and told
to cover our bodies
because we are moral distractions
and it’s all our fault anyway,
and taught that help will come if you ask;
then taught to yell ‘fire’ instead of ‘rape’,
or no one would bother to help you at all.
We are the daughters
who were taught to live a balanced and healthy life,
and that we were capable of anything and could do whatever
kicked in the back of our knees,
then thrown into series of three-hour-long extortions
to determine what we couldn’t ever do in life.
We are the daughters
who were taught to appreciate a man’s whistles and
encouragement to smile as we walk,
as if we were there only to satisfy their primal urges
and not because we needed to bu
g-Host b-LinkTo witness disobedience of dogs of the Matrix;
Are souls breaking free or is it part of the script?
Do even the patients begin losing patience
Attempting to dissect what they cannot reflect?
Are implications of home not enough of a bone
To be thrown to the starving who plot against the throne?
Too sober to stagger with their cloak-and-dagger,
Dehydrated parasites starving for insight
on what a nomadic soul is composed
when compressed into senses and structured and clothed
and closed off from links to a red-herring source
by force and by failure to
And by what right
Does a false light take flight
While uncomfortable truths
Take their place out of sight?
When confronted, you contort.
When in question, you distort.
By lies you are comprised
Yet by every report, you
Every second you delay me, every thought that disobeys me,
Every law of attraction failing due to inaction,
Every memory haunting, regardless how daunting,
The Newspapers Tell Me Too MuchDoes it matter how much blood might've spilled
Over one mistake of which I still feel the guilt
Gamma rays got shot straight through my brain
Can I still undo what has made me more insane
I have never gotten silenced by the crowd
I do not shut up just state my mind less loud
Do you blame me for not wanting to get mauled
I've had a life of pain don't say it's my fault
Have you ever walked on a diverted path to see
The dead bodies along it blended in the scenery
I want understanding but on the other hand
Don't want everyone to suffer under that demand
Recently I've decided it's not what matters to me
From what I have read in the newspapers lately
Never was I this positive about such a negative thing
Out of my sight I know there's so much dying
Shaking my head to myself I strut onwards again
Looking up at the fireless sky now that I still can
I might sound hopeless or out of my mind somehow
But I honestly believe the world is fucked by now
The ReignDrip Drop,
Down the drain.
Oh the reign
The dew will form.
Human ChessIsn't the world in black and white?
Isn't the world in 8 by 8?
Aren't we all part of some
Sick, inhumane game of chess,
Being played off against one another?
Are we pawns?
Then why are we being played,
like mere peices,
cogs in a machine,
to acheive an end goal?
It's because of divide and conquer.
An army of 100 is a lot easier to defeat
When it is only an army of 10.
We are being split, you see.
Black and white,
male and female,
old and young,
all subcategories, to keep us
Unity seems to be a word humanity forgot;
the idea, the essence of standing together,
under the principle that we're all
is alien to us now.
So here we are,
There's nothing going our way, as
because we are being divided.
And yes, we are being conquered.
In this sick, corrupt world of ours,
where every fork in the road
cuts like a knife,
we must pick the higher path.
We must not fall for the illusion that
there is no unity.
We must unite.
We must join, u
First Class Man (A Newspaper Poem)First-class people
Reach the milestone, fair or not.
He can do everything -
Doesn’t break as much
He gets it - phenomenal
He has that magic,
A pride thing.
Sofa covered with guns
Adds another dimension -
A tough road taken lightly,
A great energy.
Cinderella story -
Had the dream, pushed hard
Speaks out -
Vulgar comments, out of a shotgun
Thousands squawking, laughing
I thought he was ready,
Great passion for the game -
I just need to hear some island music.
Die Altendie Welt die sie hinterließen!
jedes verbesserte Werk
richtet sich leidvoll
moderne Rollstühle quietschen nicht
ihr Antrieb funktioniert
Jugend eilt neuen Wünschen nach
alles Alte wird neu
bloß ihr Neues ist alt
sie murmeln - doch niemand hört zu
Erfahrung bewahrt vor Konsum
die nie Zeit für Großeltern hatten
das kapitalistische Gesetz
Krüppelhände greifen ins Fassungslose
Kasernenlider unterm Heiligenbild:
immer am Start
© j.w.waldeck 2010
Please do nout use
anything of my work!
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More