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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1648241-Brands-of-Poetry
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Other · #1648241
NAKED LIKE WITHOUT ANY SKIN.
SELF-CONSCIOUS SELF-PORTRAIT

Not slick.
Not smooth.
Just rusty geometric curvatures and grooves.
It's a mouthful to call it
CHEMICAL IMBALANCE
When your mind rises
And falls
As quick
As your dick.
I flash light bulbs
Above my head
But know these ideas
They aren't my own.
Embrace
Then resent
My wingless angel
With it's halo bent
WHEN ALL I WANNA DO IS FUCKING JAM AGENT!

UNNECESSARY HARDCORE PUNK PLEA NO. 7,062

Here I go again-
Burning bridges Instead of double knotting loose ends.
I've played the fox
Stalking innocent hens,
Falling towards the illusion
"I'M MORE THAN ANOTHER PIG STUCK IN THIS PEN".

I'd give my life
To wake an honest wolf
Resting in his den.
But the fact is:
Humanity
Society
Only matters to me now and then.
That is the difference between MICE and MEN.

Please listen
There is no decision
When your options are
Existence and submission.
They've injected the virus-
An unnatural condition:
DON'T LOVE THY NEIGHBOR
YOU AREN'T BIRDS OF A FEATHER
I'm feverish
And can't seem to hold it together.
But like an illegitimate
Parent figure
From all of you
I expect better
Than better.

GETTING FIXED

No rest for the wicked.
Thirty-six sick hours and counting.
Another crutch is shouting,
"MEDICATION! MEDICATION!
WILL SUFFOCATE YOUR BRAIN AND
PREVENT
SELF-MUTILATION!
SELF-AGITATION!
MEDICATION!"
Routine as a traffic light
Another tear falls from my eyes
Despite
Looking forward to cutting this deal.
Because
Least of all
US
Who is sure of how we feel?
My head hangs.
I've lowered
the shield.
THIS
IS THE PRICE
OF KEEPING
ME ON
AN EVEN
KEEL.

?time

Night has curtained us
Per-usual.
Car tires bounce
Across
This shaky road
While our hands grip
The steering wheel
White.
Smoke
Clouds
Vision-
Seeping into
Pebbles of foam
Fallen from our minds.
Music blares
Light another choke
Roll down the windows.
For these insignificant
Moments in time
Where attention is divided
Between
Machine and
Habit
Wonder
When will it
Be
Your
Turn to
Die.

SACRIFARCE

You can see
That we've all got problems
Just the same
Too lethargic to solve them

Like rabies clogging veins
Irrationally deranged
With our brains concentrated on
Cell phones and celebrity fame

And I will ask
Every one of us
Is it comfort,
Or lack of self-thrust
That circumcised our manes
Severed like all the same
And helped us sheep to be so easily trained?

But I won't get a response
To my inquiry
There's too much shame
We're far too maimed
And blind with disproportionate fury

BUT HEY!

In turn
I won't get into
How many sleepless nights
I've been ripped apart by 9 to 5
Performing mental hurtles
Over every genuine
FRUSTRATION IN SIGHT

Cast down life challenges
With weak ass quick fixes
'Til the standards
ATTACK
And with elementary thinking
LIKE THAT
How the fuck do you suggest we strike back?

We can't possibly
Go on
With that school of thought
If we do
Then when we're gone
No one will avenge the fruitless battles we lost

And if we know history
Which is a matter of opinion
Then we know martyrdom
Has little to do with religion


© Copyright 2010 Michael B. Sherwood (adamberto at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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