Saturday, April 6, 2013

What is a poem? Fuck it. I can't read...


it was all a dream
you was dreaming i was makin cream
weed, wet and lean all i need
fuck like a fiend laying schemes


bloodspatter just a murderer's train tracks
somehow my cock alone bankrupted tampax
work day and night always making money
think a dick aint right at home in the cunny

looks like im quadriplegic smoking streebo
pass muster call me colonel cum busto
breaking backs born a black bastard
the reason sidewalks have cracks

You thought public beatings were just for the blacks

Fear burns more than drinking turpentine
blackness on the ground and no sounds
even the dirt underneath got to see sunshine
today the rocks want you: smoke me, i smoke you.

If life were lies, rocks would be whom tell the truth
to see your body undisturbed amongst similar rubble
and slowly degenerate, a metaphor for your troubles
those of people like you, those whom would follow
those who preceded you, abandoned, as if it were the gallows
the callow and fallow, indifferent to masochistic sorrow
indifferent to the dead detriment irrelevant of tomorrow
even if given the time to surmount accomplishment
still standing indistinguishable from a mountain of dirt
representative of all of it's accomplishments, inert
a flat mount of indifferent neutrality would seem humble
to the self consuming degeneracy and lunacy of modern people
a hole perhaps 60 feet deep with an oscillating tide and water line
enough to scuff those creatures of waste into the organic rinds
sifted into the sand pickling them into petroleum with life in mind
paying back debts to the dirt, when you still owe something
even after they steal off your back your last fucking shirt
Somehow people could still have made an impact
great enough to leave a mound of dirt, when
a positive addition to the earth minus detraction from life
1:1 between all lifeforms and creatures puts man in his place
the ground level a neutral state +x-x=0, below 0 is a hole
each person judged by their merit honestly, free from hostility
bound by factuality, reality, truth, scales of virtue and vice
the Tower of Babel would stand beside an endless cliff
the truly making positive impact, the others simply detriment
dereliction consuming endlessly until such mounds are set adrift
from crumbling foundations free to either fly, or sink yet again to die
were the tower to reach heaven, god may well save it,
were the hole to reach hell, the devil may well raze it.

Indifference is the opinion that it matters not which way one chooses
towards heaven or hell, even those who strive to be godly may never see god
the most damnable men on earth well know they cannot summon satan.
Even for such men who dwell upon eaves of the extremes,
 the concept of divinity remains fleeting even in dreams.

Blackness

 Tried to write prose?Here goes...






Blackness



Lights on and off, people can find you. They have you in a box flashing lights. Cant move, terribly debilitated, dilapidated beaten. Raw skin rubbery and shined glows in the darkness, you can see yourself, you know it's you. They've got you.

Blacked neckties choke the beatings cast of your own hands upon yourself. To your own corner. The only thing there is a small hole, you see yourself crawling towards the darkness darker than dark, the one hole of blackness fleeting the grasp of the light burning color away wrapping itself among you. Flee in fear to the hole. Something grabs that necktie and takes you cocked amongst the hole in the dead corner of the room, taking you forcefully malleably grasping what is left of the withered coils of a beings toil cold and ruthlessly, as ceaselessly and without fail or foil to your own graces, coddled as if a child's mother were an iron maiden. In the heat of a centrifuge suffocating in an indifferent medium, death was cast upon such a force by raw blow, the pressure of the ejected mass lay heavy as countering elliptical velocities of disaccord swept just another carapace hurtling deathly towards the blackness.

Emancipated of all importance left as negligence and nothing but the raw impartial dissidence and dissonance of whatever stray meaninglessness would comprise such idyllic waste of actuality for sentience to bind like that in essence, should with dues no doubt be bound itself, without a means for such substance to be mediated. Death becomes of those whom eschew it upon themselves. Death beckons those who eschew themselves from it.

Death riddled this man impartial negligence, absent minded indifference, cold death, not but the cruelest wind in the kindest of circumstances. Death not an offer but a guarantee. All things dissolute eventually, indifference overwhelms all things in a necessity to dissolve and become dissolute, destitute; eventually.

Beaten asunder by his adversaries yet again man riddled with wounds, bloodied in a corner, has nothing, dying in his own shameless misery, a box, he created, simply to tempt fate. Dying alone for even he could not tempt that witch scant a shameful few time about. Amounting to nothing, regarded and redeemed with the apathy of his loathing mistress.Bound and beaten well past death skin lain as but carpet for the forceful impact of the nothingness for which could only be so keen and cordial as to accompany such decrepit blackness for which to accompany this man to his sordid brothel of a grave, indifferent as a blind man to the things he sees. Death once again has encumbered, enamored, and embalmed this man.

Left simply to decompose and recompose in the darkness, the same sullen fate as all other creature like the being that were and now once was, whom ever to take in the path of such recumbence and otherwise petty triflery that would lead to such a death of idle creatures and idolatry, taken for what they're worth, on the smallest level of penury, such petty things, to sift about the floor, the nobility of the bottom-feeders, taking for free whatever would be humble or heavy enough to sink so low, the limits of the squalor, placed head to toe, the death encumbered kings of strife, rife of rape and savagery, despondent and stagnant amongst the degeneration, simply building themselves a deeper bottom, for to simply let things sink to them, sentient kings stand diminished comparable to the listless echelon of humble fish and creatures who find themselves oddly rambling eying down the baseline which no doubt consumes your own corpse, kissing her, you lovable fish, because who would not love this serenity whom takes you abreast and loves you once again should you cease to have the fight to ride once more through the night.

Fish among God's humble servants, man preemptively damned to his own indolence and arrogance, God indifferent, as always, for whom would need to damn anything, if it were freely and willingly damning itself, by it's own free will and disregard for itself. Good will unto others, would simply not be adding any more misery to such morose when good faith about you parsimony would do no better than alimony. All the same means to an end, let waste bring waste unto itself and time and time again till shan't be but any to waste from the first place and nothing at all running base to base. So shall the feeble topple and so shall yet again those who exhume shall be victor of such a race. Known and endeared of his own noble and humble fate man stands indifferent, facing down enmity towards all, God as hostile to his own existence as to deny it even from himself, as man stands alone, denying existence from others, willingly, still unknowingly denying it from himself, the irony is enough to please God into inaction, simply allowing people to justify and will life upon themselves, as conscience of Man and God no doubt comparable, God see's no reason to aid such creatures in their own devices. Such wit and craft no doubt can serve men enough to find Gods, and subsequently declare themselves Gods, with such mastery over their only pervasive threat… themselves.

If somehow somebody could look at themselves, and rationalize every single unit and it's fluid interactions simultaneously every particle down to the specifics, and understand that enerta brought the haze of lethargy upon those pieces formulated into it's essence. To see that where those pieces came from were somebody to watch each of those from formulation and understand these as function compared to the dysfunction of randomness attempting to formulate success. To see each for what it was responsible for, and to hold account a sentient conscious for all the responsibility of such destruction waste hazard and violent extrusion of energy upon each and every force and body as if to posess such awful malign sin as to perpetuate graphic declination would be to accept the riff and squabble of competitive continuation against dereliction and dismantling. See that nothing the singular units have amounted to together en mass has ever surmounted their actual working energy as a singular unit, shifting aimlessly through positions with whatever it finds, indifferent to anything but being a whole stable unit. Still even when separated the pieces remain whole in search of other such accompaniment forever until such time that the pieces are indifferent enough as to dissolve completely, eventually light enough to disregard all impetus from physical forces, non existent, and see the incredulity of such derivative wholes as a conscious to stand more proud than the humble homage of respect and unity the sheer bindings and happenstance that provoke such dearthed creatures as us upon each other in starvation in the black, space is the recoil and shell casing that combines all of us together has the force of single units in the place of it's origin. We are random combinations of this matter through secession and repitition of trials, essentially created as if a man had a box of construction materials shook this randomly enough times to the point where the creating would do itself, out the box it came, working without any will but reactions towards energy, instinctually perpetuating itself, omnivorous, consuming itself thoughtlessly, time and time again, in pursuit of perfection: immortality. Rising from its own ashes yet still searching for a phoenix.


Happenstance is indifferent to the happenings as firm a stance as it will take, surroundings to seem to be static, so it seems, happenings have no real means of impacting anything, all things reciprocate themselves should there be any rationale and good reason to entertain such fancy, and rather more so settling on what implications may be in the way preventing such an occurrence from happening. Inevitably probability speaks that what may more easily and readily come true would no doubt be more probable, the probable outcomes outweigh the improbable, and so stand masses against the outliers and people as well as most things understand social standings and such others are quite humble enough to stand where they stand and make no more a stand, the bewilderment of being a conscious being provokes insanity and inanity on respective ends of the spectrum. The separates and sifts too easily, yet the largest populous has known of it's vice and no doubt paid the price, beleaguering themselves with their own burden and just as fire produces smoke life produces itself through reciprocation, sadly consciousness may not reciprocate unto itself and it's environment to even be favorable to it's own survival.

Happenstance is indifferent to this. Happenstance is anything that happens to be more so factual relatively as opposed to an ephemeral existence such as life. If flowers were like the earth, a seed would be the formation of a planet, the earth in its solitude would be a seed growing, and life would be the spirit by which it would grow, or by any other means, natural and physical. The Earth is but a vibrant seedling in space like every other planet each with a hue and appeal of it's own. All seeds shed from the same pod, even stars just cousins of terrestrial planets, brothers and sisters of the gas giant planets. Different breeds show the universality of the chromosome of the singularity. Coexistiance defined by the same universal structure of chemical relationships, variable, but constant enough to be held accountable for it's own workings through out time, honest as daylight. Accountable, always willing to work, indifferent. Life composed of these elements, some marvelous, some deleterious and degenerate, a marvel at the will power of unity compared to the graphic disparity of probability of serial succession in an overpopulated hostile world.

Competition is what was bred in here, for the sun, and the bounty of such a gracious host, for we are rested in a convenient spot for such chemical volatility to provoke unto us a self sustaining reacting cauldron which can reproduce itself. Competition is indeed the essence of life for without it apathy would see to replication no more than asexuals. Volatility is a diminutive effect which has rational implications lower every time than the precursory time. Universality creation would say formation of stars, who's gravity induces formation of planets, reinforcement of natural cycles and favorable things occur, perhaps is a seldom chance at life, however insignificant, seen how rationally on a scale, grandiosity would never be achieved on a scale of creating stars or planets, but the earth is a generous mistress in giving all of her creatures the free will to manipulate objects and while not able to control or enforce anything of magnificent splendor, each creature has the ability to hold its natural skills among its brethren and cohorts, comparable to such and any other competitors, however and act in accordance with its own nature. The limits of a human may seem insurmountably high, but still they are bound by the same physical forces as all life, and such humans are held responsible in the same rights, as being held accountable for their own mistakes and misgivings, aggressions, and failures, while some humans may achieve, most stumble and make no progress, simply stand with the stagnation.

Still among these lifeless rats lying even below the plebeians feet, for indeed the plebeians still work, even slaves still work, those who lie below these are simply dead on the street. There is seldom if never given something for nothing, seldom is anything given without proper due rights and causes and reason, and when such things are given out, only free substances available are waste, refuse, and rubble. Feel free to survive amongst these things for free, but do know, only the apt and able survive, for to compete with rats is to put yourself into some small holes hoping to never be seen. To attempt to live the life of a rat hiding in the darkness and stealing when you think none are watching, one must know the rat is the king of hiding and making way through the dark, in order to survive. Were the Rat so much a king on the streets to walk as burdened as the most encumbered and fattest whom still have the ability to walk, one no doubt not sees this thief rat in broad daylight, known for all he does, standing as tall as man living on refuse and rubble, stealing with his own free will and innate natural instincts. Humans stand degenerate and malnourished from over-competition and wasteful excess consumption still plagued after the ages the kings of rats had aged and wizened to the level of homo sapiens whom had ceased to evolve in light of their own fragility and degeneracy, the irony of the strength of the human mind is abound in that of anyone from a grown motherfucker to an infant getting mind fucked on hot city sidewalks by all kinds of street roaming creatures, seeing a poor bastard get chained to a car by the neck as it drifts a corner wrapping the mans grape purple head against the streetlamp post as if a childs game of tetherball just for a greasy oiled and respectably employed Homo rattus to hope coins would still pop out the pockets of every italian you beat to death. Old wives tales still grab the curious cat by the tail time and time again, who wouldn't think a rat might share a few odd shake and a shot at the old wife, just to see what he might find.

The rat would have disregard for any human acts of civility or charity for his society is not bound by the same regards of christian or otherwise chastity and restraints placed upon the free in order to protect the weak, to coddle the population of such an animal as if it were to be shed en masse simply throwing the ceaseless rampant penury against each other only with means to kill each other. Fighting only with the strong just to see them killed, and such remnant populations vestigial of such strength and fervor, leaving the weak behind, see the strong killed, the weak breed, it's a game of kill or be killed, eventually all fighters are on such poor standings in terms of pedigree as the irrational culling of ablemen left such poor quality fighting mans to breed you are left with the idle bewildered society today strife and riddled with illness, a dearth of aptitude, mortality rates disavowed in favor of incredulity and to inundate and sequester all competition from the lives of those whom would normally be disavowed from life, and instead placing their burden and the toil on the backs of the workers, essentially chaining these people to each other, making them carry the weight of the costs of living and the system, supporting a cycle that is habitually disinclined from making and sort of progress, or impact on the lives of the majority of tax payers. Spending very little of the people's money on things that could indeed benefit everyone in society, rather than just the federal government's own ideals and accords, which simply state that it's fine to take everyones money as long as it looks like you're doing the right thing. This includes essentially burning money and provoking inefficiency in the systematic ordeals at every stop in the line, wasting resources and the time and money of those who support it, however willingly or unwillingly. These systems enforce false competition and irrational means of production in the hopes that they may be able to preserve the false image of equality in an increasingly inequitable world, with fewer and fewer outlets, coddling the bottomfeeding masses into servitude for supposed freedoms and power, which have no true ability to be exercised and are often enough invalidated that one could justify the judiciary system and other legal orchestrations of America as hypocrisy rather than democracy or any other form of government, simply a building of lies, hopes and dreams neglected, throwing stones at it's own foundation as if the tower would simply not crumble into itself.

Taking it's time to rot and die as all things do corpses do indeed still lie fetid rotting in the sun, scarred and marked by their own miserable agony. Strewn about as randomly as ash in wind the spin so simple as piss one way, shit one way, spit babies another way, walk the other, any way the wind blows, babies come and go, either way or whichever way you know, Jesus was still raised with animals in a manger, as was every animal, or just in the wild as it was for the longest while.
Live it out, live it out real, live every lie in reality. Feel free, it's always free, be the best you can be, take truth to the the benevolent RNG, feel what it means to be free from limits, deprived of the standard of sanity, normality, modality. See that you can read numbers any way A to Z (1/x, x/x), start at 1, which way to go, seems to be only one, carrying you onward, one way to go with a number, right, detriment only occurs from positive numbers, even a loss or cancellation is simply a positive number of a concordant force, it is no negative force.


To negate numbers would be to say that god collects debts rather than contrary positive forces negate each other, or balance themselves accordingly , rather than man simply couldn't muster the force or mastery to surmount obstacles, saying god took the will from your boy and is why he couldn't pitch perfect games or why you couldn't keep your dick up, since childhood it's not been because your son was a poor athlete and couldn't preform on the field, or because you bought him all the sports equipment for money and still could not preform, or simply that he sold crack cocaine and hustled dice and reared whores from the street like scooby doo finding them in closets like homosexuals, Ricky. It's not that you cook meth and listen to motley crüe and kill people and your 8 year old boy sells meth on a motorcycle and kills people, and still has time to play Minor League Baseball for more meth because he only shoots pure, and the only reason he says that is because he says he's pure blood. Whatever that means. Even though that guy pitches well Jules that doesn't get past Minor League drug screens.

Negative things don't exist simply because debts only come into play when free or seemingly free of fee things come into play such as loans and other such standards of society. Negative numbers as a concept only prove effective in non scientific scales with a median being a proposed neutral, negative representing a metaphorical occurrence such as negative feelings or undesirable things, with the other side being positive feelings, desirable things, or beneficial things. All of these being a positive single occurrence still, nouns, whole objects, simply rankedover or under the median percentile of neutral 0 indifference or. Subtraction still works because you are calculating a detraction from a positive force or quantity if you apply any of it, otherwise numbers simply stop at 0, numbers being exchanged, simply end all lowest level is being left inert with nothing, it is impossible to detract from an absence, even attempting to do so would be a single instance of something, leaving you with wasted energy but still a positive force attempting to counter something that is not there, all things go from somewhere to somewhere else, it takes positive energy to move them anywhere at all, even friction, and decomposition are positive forces, easily rationalized as force enacted upon the substance from another plane, as if X axis 1 and X axis 2 were on the same plane, but traditional positive numbers would count up, and counting down could be seen as a positive amount of resistance or binds on a limit, since forces contradict each other, there would be an established medium at the median or mean, but reaching 0 would incur that no action or existence would be able to be rationalized at all, anything less than this would assume that there is more of an absence, than actual absence of any impactful forces, variables or impetus, or even inert substance or particles to be quantified.