28/09/20 - 23:33 PM


Author Topic: are these poems pieces of shit? and/or post your art.words.photos.  (Read 395 times)

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pronetoaccidents

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    • im quite scared (crime/noir/terror/suspense/doom n' gloom
I'm trying to make some extra cash because i'm in a bind, and that's not what writings about for me but i stumbled across a poetry thing and they pay so i figure i'll submit these. If they're the equivilent of uploading a turd to the computer and uploading it and seeing it, feel free to let me know. I'm also submitting a very short story to somewhere too..

feel free to read if you want and/or hijack it and turn it into a post your art.writing.photos


--------------------

HELL – County Jail, Sentencing.
 
I’m you’re voice piece for Everything, Nothing and the shadow-less void between, Court Section Schrilleex Ascending, Docket #199288 AP253(infinity sign) . You broke a commandment in the precinct of the 4th dimensional metaphysical Sector @@$@25. This, I’m sorry to have to say after the ordeal you’ve already underwent, is a very serious offense and the penalty is, well let me explain the dimension you’ve penetrated.
It is understood at this point that we know nothing whatsoever. The dawn of information died mutilated and forsaken, we were in the  age of anti-reality.  This is known. Children comprehend this before anything else of sustenance. We’ve evolved, assisted yes, yet evolved.. not developed use of the other locations of the brain previously thought necessary, but by understanding through meditation and our answers we weren’t aware we were questioning were revealed in a blinding white light. We don’t trust what we see. That ignorant notion that was the basis of sanity, life, love, and, well just about everything to you was it? What was dangled like grapes before your eyes? Or more probably, data with circuits and wires dangling across a robotic cranium or square with algorithms flowing and flowing. If we did the world would be flat, Earth would be the center of the universe in which all heavenly bodies bowed in gravitational tango. “Why look into the carcass of the cadaver and use its organs for revelations? Why the hedonistic fury?”  Question everything. And question yourself for questioning. Why? What purpose? What revelation? At who’s cost and what means?
You don’t understand but I have to explain to you. Pick a random memory. One that’s beautiful. Makes you all misty eyed, keeps you up at night, hits you in the bathroom stall when you’re taking a fucking shit and the eyes are off you and you can drop the goddamn charade. A memory like that. A feeling. A chance that you can be with a person. Lets start there. It’s fucking bullshit. It’s fake. Bunk. Never was. Never will be. Isn’t now. Think of the amoeba. It’s alive. Just like us with the obvious relativity of size factored in. They live a life. They might have gods. Morals, deviance, blasphemy, counter-culture. Wars with other amoebas over difference in shades, cosmic complexion, shimmers of translucence or such causing racial riots worldwide (there world is the size of our pupil perhaps). And also is our body, along with billions of other bacteria who live a life if ignorance to certain (no) truths but they do their equivalent of fucking and living and waging war, with the same primal fury as the squid and the whale, the homo sapiens versus the homo sapiens. Below them, atoms, debate the meaning of a life, (Homo-Sapien Scientists, with their arrogance and such, at least they recognized the Atom was “small”. The smallest known particle in the universe- they declared. If they only knew that within it, gods wage wars so epic and cataclysmic even the Original Architect shudders and looks away, disgusted and at awe at the furious intensity of their grandsons. Oh right, you still don’t even know that humans created Gods. Not in the sense that we invented them like fairy tales. We are so powerful that our thoughts and beliefs come true in alternate universes and due to their diverse and conflicting nature don’t always coexist in harmony. A schizophrenics smiling stick figure Jesus gets disemboweled by the Minotaur. Satan rides upon the back of Cthulhu to slit the fucking throat of that cocksucker Neptune who keeps Aphrodite kidnapped and rapes. )
Anyhow, I believe parts of your brain are beginning to crack, in fact I know this but unfortunately I have strands of your DNA still and make the slight mistakes of humanity, little lies mistaken for formality. You have a slight pressure crack. Fragments and lines spread outward in a chaotic triangular pattern, scattered in all chaotic realms of inanimate fear and almost like a slowly pulsating coma heart, they bend and stretch and quiver, slow, like trying to watch a plant grow, yet it will inevitable break. Completely shatter. Obviously not immediately, but the damage has been done, the “detonator planted and the clock set” so to speak if you want to reduce to cliches of your tiresome culture.
Why you? Why you? Why you. Is that really the question you should be asking while I’m gracing you with a series of responses? I could have left your terrified ego drifting through these windless dimensional plane, yet I have a job and do my job well. “Act like a gentleman, (again. It’s hard to recover the whole burden left by the father. Tiresome, trite cliches), I shall treat you as such.” No formalities need be issued, such as conversation and/or acknowledgement of your ego snug in its sickening meat puppet. (You’re very lucky I pulled some strings and let you wear your body. We need your mind as close to functioning as possible and that would have left it barely usable enough to pawn) So try to grab something tight with your mind, even though nothing you know is true, grab all the bullshit you want while you still can I suppose then turn off your light. Close your eyes. Take some concentrated breaths, and this is the important fucking part, only focus on the inhalation and the subsequent exhale. The fluidity, repetition, perfect circle, with an impenetrable fortress surrounding it and absolute NOTHING within.  You know nothing and nothing is the most secret, special, beautiful, key of the universe and the only way to achieve what you labeled “happiness” and fought such heroic and tragic internal battles to find.
I’ll leave you. Yes, I should explain further, that was the sentence by the Dimensional Metaphysical Sectors Grand Reaper for your crime, of trespassing upon a plane where you had no jurisdiction, how you found out, through your studies of the Necromantik Bible and due to your ignorance you were equated with the blissful end of that old one, and were given a relatively light sentence. You must remain here, forevermore, until you can silence your mind so complete. Like the monk who lit himself on fire to protest the Vietnam war and a hair barely rose on his balls. A form of escape to a realm where there is no escape, there is no nothing, just..
You don’t have to worry about time. I hope you at least gathered by this point there’s no time or things will be substantially more difficult for you. You will need to forget that which I see burning in your retinas as we speak, and I see it conjured as you blushed and shifted your eyes from mine just now in shame. Don’t mistake my words for kindness and understanding. No such things exists. It’s imperative that you understand, and like you’re kind have been doing for so long, a lie here and a lie there is “necessary”, right?
So go, try to forget the screams of the victims you bound and defiled. The teeth you removed and wore. The jars stuffed with organs and muscles. The faces with eyes gouged and mouth gaped a jaw. The two brothers, who you gave a knife and said they had a choice or it was their mother. Little did they know the knife was used to kill her just beforehand, well,  in the time it takes to masturbate after. Well,  I forgot to tell you, you’ll need their permission to get their screams to silence, and I don’t know if they’ll be so sympathetic. Will you? Come on out guys, there’s someone I’m sure you’d like to meet…
   
---------------------
In our sisters charity, pet,
as a result of “light this thing”, laughing
at the same time
his sleep looked a day behind me.
I can sleep now.
He had been hydrocephalic.
The waiting room around five.
“yes.”
“lets go to sleep, it’s been long gray hours
General anesthesia lasted to protest.
“the kid is fine, no retardation.. cigars?”
“no.”
And if the still loved, anesthesia,
death during ugliness and comparing
mild cataclysmic madness.
Hardiff had come into institutionalized
Puke grinning.
God was saved.
Varying results, death under general..
“I feel you’re right”, she said
“what a weird question.”
Spend a night.
Complete disaster maps.
Sesame street nonstop.
Have wanted him in and agreed.
Spend a night and see your local doctor.
Could you have worked ones mouth, underwent..
Stuck into thought now. A really good place
Would you have wanted it recorded?
Retardation as a result.
Oh there. Wore all
Sorts of thinking
punished have gone there.
---------------------------
I smiled,
The golden
open throat, soft tie,
Your eyes bold blue
God like head
Then seeing your..
But now (not strange)
Sought i
I think and think of you.
---------------------------
 Evil.
 

A little girl

Pretty as pie

sits in the dirt

behind the shed.

 

A fly

Scared and buzzing

To and fro, fro and hither

 At the mercy of a cherub

 

She pulls off one wing,

“he loves me”,  she

Pulls of the next

If it could scream it would

 

So loud, it would.

“He loves me not.”

pouts. and if it

could     (t) only cry

                (h)

                (e)

                (/)

                (f

                (l)

                (y)

 

Off comes a leg

“he loves me”

Alien base heads

turn earth into a trap house

 

while she sits,

ripping limbs,

vicious as Attila the Hun

sweet as apple pie n head

 

“he loves me…NOT?”

“fuck!” a flock of filthy pigeons take flight,

`the streets of suburbia, dark empty

Two wild dogs sink teeth

Into the throat of their sick mother and rip her (to shreds)

Playing tug of war with the umbilical cord of a sister

 

They never met.

---------------------------

 (humans.

Ing. as a maid for some.
to cross over to the uninformers
it was soon neglected.
a few days later, all down in the valley
but on the other side of the casas
negras highway, the body of another girl
was found, this one
was four foot three. She, a metal buckle,
as if it had been times in the chest.
The ambulance men.
The stretcher.
Eating scorpions.
“thing” thought Jua
“two bodies in the first body.”
Down, but dump it right.
Same with the secfond. All the
Risks that less, he said to him.
Along the road they would be fed.
And in a way they did die much..
Girl was found. A valley without a name.
Dead girl or woman. Mere bodies.
Brown hair, ligther dyed. Innocent, climbed down
Into because.
« Last Edit: February 03, 2016, 07:46:27 AM by pronetoaccidents »
Though lovers be lost love shall not.

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