Hail Madness

We're all here again
Relating more to pain
Since we are all just sad, sorry fucks
With one too many drinks
And a stockpile of roaches,
Empty cans resembling our brains
Next to the cartons of ash bibles.
Well, "pleasure is pain", anyways
That's what they say at least.
Loveless like one hogging the love seat
Wrapped in insecure blankets of smoke screens
Bleeding through tongue-tooth piercings.

Whoa, humanity, so paper-like,
So roboticly sounded
In every swoon to take doom
To the bedroom
And eat her pussy out.
So twisted to blow kitchens
With drone kisses
To the brain lesions;
I'm so impressed to get undressed
In front of screen saviors
For the night light mimics
Politically recorded misbehavior.

What a sorry state we are left in,
What a lonely place I live in
Where madness proves wonder
And wonder proves nothing
And nothing gives something to the madness,
It's exactly what everything else lacks in.
Tragically, concealed for the masses
Because happiness can't be capitalized,
Except for the ones showing off their asses
While everyone else capsizes--
Keep relating to pain
Everyone else is here anyways.

Life and then Some

Politics becomes a drinking game
When the debates start to feel the same
I'm not ashamed of what I became
But I'm not used to this spinning fame

Understanding without knowing
It comes easy when you're not showing
From a balcony time is slowing
That's when my dreams start flowing

A cigarette for my cold bare hands
A novelty that I can't comprehend
The gossip that breeds on command
Won't ever meet my ancient demands

In the grand scheme of everything
Dangles infinity on a string
& it swings from a young white dove's wing
Wondering what red gifts it could bring

Women Are

Women are
delicate summer flowers
hacked off
by the vicious blade
of a lawn mower
screeching like
an old dog's howl
under fingernail thorn piercings
with soft skin
like velvet rainfalls
over funeral mornings
pouring down a sewage stream
of shanty town ghettos.

Women are
oyster pearls
swallowed by ignorance
and purged in personal notes,
talked like doll-faced
bedroom jerk offs
wide eyed
in wonder
with ribbons
tied at the throats
forced to sing
off key
mainstream madness.

Women are
faint rainbows
teasing folklore
gold lovers
licking dirty truck windows
on highway go-go bars,
the water mirage
on a desert surface
when you most need a drink
that fades
like sinking guilt
swallowed by
quicksand romances.

13

Terrible movie-like dreams,
maybe prophecy or tripping,
tube breathing,
13 year-old sinners,

concert winners,
ghost whisperers,
death defying forces,
"Wild Horses" ♫,

nude choices,
basement jails,
microphoned schools,
police state rules,

lab created diseases,
the servitude that never pleases;
Dreams like movies.
Terrible.

CCTV Love Poem

If I had to calculate the hours and dollars spent
To record the disconnected urban civilians
To ensure our justice is met,
I would indefinitely go insane
From the time frame that has created
A brave new 1984 society showing off for the lenses
Caught by a one eye reflection,
Jostled by the Americana fabrication,
Leaving freedom waiting like
Insects digging for hopelessness,
Like the anarcho-pie-thrower at the Murdoch trial
Dripping in loony froth captured by point-and-shoots,
Invisible now to the riots of London towns
That were set ablaze in the corporate gaze
Of banging glass sound explosions
By ghetto squats claimed by poor comrades
That were established unsafe from community colleges
For murder-loving poems of war veterans,
Sullen in their sad states of drunken loneliness
Served by the communist and socialist clowns
Crooning at dusk when the zombie croaks come out
And their heads full of lead to ease the trauma
While blurring each day by mind control,
Nodding at the elite teleprompter
Where information babbles like the brooks bubbling in opaque bongs
Glowing from a television sets mocking and laughing and laughing,
Laughing, laughing, laughing, as if we should be smiling at a time like this
When punched walls becomes the common decor
Along with burnt marks & ashes on coffee stands
Struggling for art madness in airbrushed models
Between their Photoshopped cleavages and camel-toed personalities
Lost in fantasies of Film Bums lost in fictional conversations
Lost in back bars of bare backs lost in jointed over thinking, dwelling
Since there's no work to be done except internally
Where the market fails to profit and lacks yuppie Viagra
To slave for the Federal Reserve fiat currency
Weighing our wallets and emptying our brain stem juice,
Shackled by the institutionalized cops coming on webcams
From their lost pot of coffee crack baffled at the marijuana mind,
Condemned by fundamentalist rapture flashers
And the Zionist courts cupped by the sack of the anti-scientist
Hitting puberty in truck stop bathrooms under etched "good time" numbers,
Late bloomed and consumed by dimensions of meaningless realities
Marked by tattooed chips implanted with 1010011010 designs
Listening to our very conversations and nakedness,
For the perverted politician pounding on the taxes and
Skywriting the slums of the low income population,
And scatter brains to decorate the street lamps with colour,
Besides the blue lights echoing sirens
To shatter the security of the night walkers.

All that I need are pictures floating from balcony trees singing
Of dead pin-ups and closeup plant crystals coating my blood stream,
Infesting and caressing balanced pituitary & pineal glands
In order to stand the experience of rejecting ego plans
That would rather indulge in physical pleasure,
Which never comes and blows away in rip tides
On seas of everlasting security of the cosmic royalty
That lays in the hearts of all mere beings
Who are awaken, awoken, and seeking,
Across bell-free towers and strip malls
& strip clubs and freeways,
Looking back on something not exactly aware
Of their coughing/coffin of double helix codes
Sown in oil buttons of our Chinese robes.

Lo an' behold! Bottom feeders,
On the railway roads
Sleeping by sewage plants
& stripped concrete streets in a cold season,
There's always something better
Than this same sleepy town
Down and out of well water baths
With the same angry barber shop loitered by teenaged druggies
Looking for the same way out as everyone else.

Oh closed-circuit cunt-screen, why must you bother me?
Why must you record for the govern-lords
That tatter like young Napoleons smacking a tether ball
Back and forth, a scratch for a scratch in the loom of evenin's moon?

For every still taken by store,
Fuck you,
For every turned neck lens staring back at me and them and us,
Fuck you,

For every recorded call and surveillance stolen innocence,
Fuck you.
Fuck you grand ol' government and the Satan that backs you,
Fuck you for hijacking this state of being,

For every cigarette banned and drug demonized,
Fuck you,
Fuck you,
Fuck you.

Fuck. You.

Escapism

Empty handed apologies reaching towards me
where I have learned to love & see
for every grief is a returned joy,
a part of myself longing to not be destroyed
and the past is unwelcome
as my ego withers in the dry sun,
passed by the passing fly's hum,
decayed in a way that fades to none.

Dark repetitions of squalor numbers,
possible death threats of inevitable afflictions
from rushing neurotic compulsive waking slumbers
followed by addictive deceptions from my restrictions.
A haunting to pass the time
when you've run out of cellar wine
to swallow inside your empty brain,
too plain to pay for a black and white fame.

Lips like cherries hung between two peace fingers
dripping forgetfulness as the outside lingers
warm grassy dew-dreams in shallow creeks
lost by hill peaks among the hazy weeks
taken in stills and photographic memory,
nude and unasked, but existing,
rough like files of emery,
but twisting in her insisting,
broken, but whole and ratified,
continuously born and dead and satisfied,
smiling like a faithful street;
If you're all that I need then why can't I sleep?

Blur

Her eyes where strawberries half eaten

by ant hills and parachuted pills

popping passenger paperhanger small talks

clocked in silver tongue look away confessions

and she bit the skins of many bottom lips

just in case it wasn't a mistake of imaginations,

loving herself in lone reflected lust

locked inside mistrusted paranoid rust

rotting under thousands of mind fucks

floating in blue lights captured by slight glances,

caught between the valleys and troughs of nothing's cost.

"Ctrl, Alt, Delete" they cry,

"Rise and rise or everyone will die!"

Fought on the campaigns of fear'd hive slaves

Stitching their fallen morals on foreheads.

She sees repeated seas sunk under tree trunks

stuck in grimy lost-thought stillness,

vanished by impaired drones

dragging their fist in everyone's brain.

Will her claims remain ignored

by Do-Not-Disturb door signs

or hushed by market masters

after truth speakers leaking troubled instincts?

Something & Nothing

Spools of endless planes

driven over cycled chains,

long, thought-gone and lived,

whether found or ignored,

stretching immeasurable space echoes

endlessly unifying all that exist

within a tree cosmos,

expanding/retracting/blooming/f a d i n g,

quenched by everlasting knowledge-dew

proving the beyond that was never gone--

it's living in our head-room,

pulsating light windows in resume.

There's Nothing that you see,

& Something that you don't believe,

everything that you will be

manifests in your dreams.

Repeat After Me: I Am Free

Running, always in circular patterns carving

Truth within the caves and valleys of my brain

Etched and typed in the eyes of the few

Who seek to expand the infinite walls crashing around them

A continuous fleeting wanting fading & overcoming

Static paradox pushing through thought-water

Floating in plain view, bobbling on the surface

Closing lids for dream-speak lucid escapements

Morning becomes this different view from night paranoia

Sailing on a fragment of insecurity and misunderstandings

The words held on for so long becomes an outcast

Claimed for the occult when the truth is too hard to stomach

Upside down deadbeats born to accommodate law,

To serve you food, to cut your hair, or to uplift anti-nature

With their rules and the rules made from nothingness

Which they fear because we are all fucked

Happiness isn't anything more than a chemical boost from neutral

Since everything in reality is what we make of it

There has never been a matter or circumstance to create emotion

Just a false illusion to justify reactions

Inside-Out Phenomena

I chalked telepathic progressing teaching fields in concrete gardens


to farm dead calls of road picketers by the stumbled railway voices


so far from realistic waste art that a bashing tumor brings


a cheap city back blood bath radioactive, old and shared.


The future drunk reasons for tired souls tied across landlines


where crows sit along and starve


have become tattooed landmarks


staring down at the loss of humanity wishing for a break in the brainwashing.


Dunn becomes the wires, a fence following drawings


underneath seasons with insane phone trees against the streets with light torches


paired in threes of fleeting sacrificial dream keys for your jeweled casket rings


when you become used for enemy funding while elites blow streets of civilian children


& multimillion slaves go about their days as if nothing is happening.


If I had everything on your wall, I'd be just as stupid and shallow


as the mop bucket of your Mexican maid laid between cracks of pavilion seats


in raunchy downtown peep theaters that matches your fake tan and veneered smile


for secluded stolen states of genocidal rein filling up my pocket notebook


of all the ignorance that I see everyday.


Shared and old, radioactive blood bath


back city cheap tumor brings bashing waste art


so far from stumbled railway voices of road picketers


to farm dead calls teaching fields in concrete gardens


chalked in telepathic progress.

Alive in Make Believe Town

The ward plays sad songs
And you lay in your prismatic mind,
Unfolding the paper planes
Swimming in your conscious ocean;
So in tuned to find room
For bottled poems like potions
To cure your mad eye.
There's a man freezing
Outside the bars
In a blistered sun
And you sung about him
Long ago, after the snow
Had dried in the afternoon,
Too soon to miss the show.
Lassoed, lonely with no where to go,
Feeling low like no tomorrow.
Forever is always tongue-in-cheek
Where speaking easy comes naturally.
We get so tied down
To get around 'Make Believe' town,
Spinning reality on a table top,
Too fast to stop
Listening to sleeping dreams
And empty silent telephone rings.
We must be going wild
Since the night takes a while
To fall for tasteless jokes,
Hooked on noses of common folk.
You never know when I'll make room
For a bothered tune
About a mad girl
Like the one in every world
That curls her fingers in her hand
After listening to a bad band
And a raunchy news story
On the black one-eyed screen.
We become these pre-criminals
Waiting to be searched
Like up-skirted brothel babes
Bending over for another round of feel-ups.
Is this the only touch that gets nauseous?
No one should live with a feeling like this.

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Rapture Blues (Goodbye Dumb World)

This is the last morning I'll ever see
And the last evening waiting for me.
No one knows when it will end,
But everyone is pretty positive.
That the hologram will twist a joke
And I'll toke in the name of God
--God, have they taken this too far?
Oh, forget it, I know the answer to this.
I wonder where their consciousness will float.
Will it sail on an endless boat,
Tied to numerical rights and false hope
Recorded in a historical cope?
You can't run the show
With a billion billboard frights,
Lighting the emptiness in small pocketed mights
To fall for your rounds: let it go.
We all hunger for something real
But do we have to distract for a meal?
I won't be apart of the cruel games
Because everything still remains the same.

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Libre Knowledge: A Glimpse into a Free World

The history of man kind has evolved through the exchange of one's thoughts to another, either accepted or rejected. Soon, as thoughts were being written down, the words that seemed to hold a higher authority over other works gripped each individual society and blossomed cultures that were either taken over or morphed into a settle reminder of the past by the means of words that took authority. What gave these "special" thoughts power?

Fast-forward to our time, the era of today is known as The Information Age (as well as The Age of Deception). The access of informative resources are made available in exchange for currency. At this point we are expect to abide by a system of money and the only kind of people that can (and will) invest their money only do so if that goal of profit is attained. If thoughts for other thoughts was a currency, wouldn't that be considered a huge profit? Instead, we shouldn't have the a deist mindset about ideas, but more of a recognition within the collected consciousness of all that exist in the universes. The fact is when thoughts are established into a recognizable format, society and the writer profits from a true sense of enlightenment.

The very thoughts that we sense in ourselves, even the very thoughts on this page have been realized for all of existence just in different ways. As time goes on, these thoughts evolve but their original intent is still clear and accepted. So, why should we expect something in exchange for ideas that are already open to the minds of those who connect spiritually? The truth is there are ideas on the market that only serves evil on a silver platter. It is not that these ideas themselves are inherently evil, but the purpose they serve is to distract from intelligence.

The world will be enlightened by libre knowledge since the thoughts of freedom cannot be profited. To achieve this dream, we must forgive the people who've enslaved us, forgive ourselves for following a path of greed in order for others to forgive us for enslaving them. This will clear the conscious of any wrong doings only if love is accepted and reflected. The universe that we float in wants to hear that positive energy, the only way we can destroy the evil that lurks around blind eyes. Open your eyes, you are reality. You are connected with all of existence that gives and takes. Do not be the one keeping score, for more than you realize that life works in each individuals' favor. Through the struggles comes virtue and that virtue paves our destiny right before our very eyes.

[Author's Note: Libre knowledge is free knowledge, it is free resources that allows the people to be informed. Right now at this very moment people are being imprisoned for sharing information. The government is afraid of people like us who acknowledge the evil that is being committed. Start sharing secret information, start sharing the truth. You are apart of the revolution.]

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Mindful Healing

"As any change must begin somewhere, it is the single individual who will experience it and carry it through. The change must indeed begin with an individual; it might be any one of us. Nobody can afford to look round and to wait for somebody else to do what he is loath to do himself. But since nobody seems to know what to do, it might be worth while for each of us to ask himself whether by any chance his or her unconscious may know something that will help us." --C. G. Jung

It is becoming ever increasingly clear to my awaken self what I must do to continue the love and the stance for our freedom. I can't offer a philosophy or a religion because it is way past the means for a solid solution in this modern day. The conscious mind must act and portray the reflection of honest activism without some kind of leadership of intentions, moral right, or in the name of doing good deeds. If we want to experience the resolution to ending the power of elitist, as a whole we should continue to fight expressing our love for true individuality and self-sufficiency.

Instead of searching for a purpose or searching to do good deeds, BE that purpose. BE that good deed. Just do what your heart tells you, follow the symbols in your dreams. The unconscious mind is such an amazing tool to guide us to the inner truth within ourselves. We share the collective potential to defeat evil, to defeat greed and the power over human nature.

We are given free life by the means of the sun and the earth, yet we are slaves to propaganda, illusions, and more specifically paper monopoly money. I feel as though my time will come soon to act in expression with my unconscious mind through my conscious being. I feel it in my bones that I will be on those streets spreading the message, fighting for the freedom of man and woman. The people are calling for real change, expelling the lies shoved down the throats of newscasters into the stereos of home television screens. Will see I any of you there fighting along side humanity?

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Tomahawks in Libya

America thinks it can resolve
The situations that don't concern us
I don't see how it's any part of me
I'm not falling for your blood lust

What is peace when no one's free
When your fingers on the trigger of a war machine
How many will die for us to feel safe
Yeah I do have a problem your crooked face

Standing in the line of fire
Barbaric acts of selfishness
You don't care about the people
You only want to seek "righteousness"

I can't believe they award scum like you
Who are you trying fool
There's nothing you can do
To excuse your terrorist mood

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Revolt

"If I'd written all the truth I knew for the past ten years, about 600 people - including me - would be rotting in prison cells from Rio to Seattle today. Absolute truth is a very rare and dangerous commodity in the context of professional journalism." --Hunter S. Thompson

The beginning of educational deception
Holds an important key
For those of the robot age
Where information is programmed
By images and "facts"
So that we can push a button
And make a few quarters
For a processed meal
Full of drugs
Full of poisons
But we don't care
Since we have become dominated
By technology
Tearing subliminal messages in our brains

We have forgotten to dream
To feel [real]
Love & happiness
Growth no longer becomes an option
Only avail to those who seek
Who protest the everyday
Fear mongrel that taps
In our radar
Waiting to attack our security
With lies to keep us inside
Away from nature
In it's vicious law
And all thought is lost
Because they listen

The real composers are snuffed out
From the market
Since no one cares
For a writer's reality
No one looks into words
Unless it's fantasy
In a Disney form
With gold on a string
To dangle right in our view
In hopes that
Some day
One day
They could hold
The false satisfaction

I hope to free myself
And the world
From the chains
That bounds our brains
To the objective
Of the elitist
Since the truth
Is more powerful
Then any curtain
That hides the bones
And when it all comes down
There will be those
Who won't fall with the rest
--The people of the revolution will last

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Being the Thinker

"Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him." --Friedrich Nietzsche

I have forgotten the last time it rained, particularly on a Sunday. I was hoping the weather would get warm again, but based on the 10-day forecast, it doesn't seem likely. After a night spend reading anarchist poetry, I found myself in a familiar spot thinking about the direction the NWO is taking our society. Hilary Buttrod Clinton has the feminist of the world on her hands. I feel like I am back in elementary school, reading Times for Kids for school assignments, post-9/11 when the vampires made me write about Muslim girls who aren't allowed to go to school. I used to think about all the civilians we were killing just for what we thought was right. Sometimes I want to cut my own fucking throat for watching the bombings in Gaza on live TV. My mother said this would be a very important time in history and I watched from the comfort of my damned American home. Every time the images come back to me I am overwhelmed with guilt. How many people can you say thinks like this?

I always wanted to be a "gardener" but the constrictions of my youth led me to settle for robotic personalities and I allowed the weeds to grow. Finally, I was faced with a turning point in my early adulthood that allowed me to clear away the excess of traumatized lies that refuted the light that was waiting for me. See, we can blame our past or whatever meaningless criticization, but as an individual we have a choice to lead our lives for what is True. We are responsible for our garden called "Life" and we must tend to it no matter what storms through it, we are expected to take control & maintain a positive growth. There will always be people who are programmed to refute the truth, so it is the individual's responsibility to stand strong and never cease expressing the power of one's mind. Awakenings are sure to occur but that is only when the mind is ready to destroy the illusions it once faithfully obeyed.

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Everything

I don't mind sitting all by myself
In my head with no one else
I'll get by with nobodies help
Everything is fine, everything will be alright

I've got my drink and my bag of weed
I've got no faith in my television screen
All my troubles are the least of me
Everything is fine, everything will be alright

And my lover hates it when I cry
"Do you even care if you die?
I like what you did with your eyes"
Everything is fine, everything will be alright

I quit my job that was killing me
A slave for the man that's after me
And all I got is what will get me free
Everything is fine, everything will be alright

But I hate the way I'm missing everyone
And all my friends, well they have their fun
And I'm here stoned watching the waking sun
Everything is fine, everything will be alright

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They Would Never Publish This in Your School

Information is dying, the truth withers in the hands of flaming liars holding the world with a knife to it's neck. In the midst of an endless war, genocide is played down and greed is fulfilled licking it's sharp tongue on every eye and ear. We stand in our own blood, the blood of our brothers & sisters who fight for revolution, who fight for freedom and love. Yet with the sea of empty souled bodies coasting each wave, the only way for society to come out of the cave is to recognize the manipulation.

If only you could see with you eyes closed, and if you do then you feel the betrayal. We are taught every paid-published lie there is to know, conquered by the funding of elite murders. The last dose of truth will be heard even by the deaf so be ready by keeping your ears open. Realize that there are white lies waiting to trap your mind and emotions.

We have become witnesses of a dark place that evil lurks and stares in it's mask of a million. This will not survive. The suffering will end once the universe is enlightened by love and truth. As humans, we must end the judgement, end the hypocrisy, and start a new age of freedom.

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An Addition to the Thoughts of Humanity

Every thought of mine leads to a question; why aren't we considering that drunkened state of mind that rejects the wave length of time and reality that indents it's meshing in our current state where we draw the line from the insane to sane? I wonder where these people are who hear and taste the truth even beyond the physical realm from which we all could learn from. I believe we should all accept the fair warning of the danger that leads all people far away from the evidence that proves our purpose in this world.

There is so much more then what we face, there is so much love we fail to embrace because we have become so weakened by the importance of what others have always profitted on in this system. I am supressed by this reality to be close with The Truth because of the concern of judgement by the people who slave for evil.

I am human like the rest of you.

There is no going back on words (much like there is no going back in time at this point) and there is no point in rejecting what stares you right in the face. It takes a real person to get inebriated to know this difference of a settled state of mind from a higher state of mind. How can you please yourself first without considering the benefit of others from the thoughts you convey and the actions you take? We are all connected by The Truth, whether we believe in it or not; It belives in us.

This point in our existence signifies our purpose to expose the control and destruction of nature. We all can agree that the weight of this world bares a heavy burden to understand it's deception. It's a lonesome feeling when most fail to grasp the significance of the survival of the real mind. I want to be that bridge that fills in the gaps of heavy waterways.

Creativity has become a market and therefore only benefits those who are on top of the pyramid scheme. You can't publish truth because it isn't marketable. No one wants to be told what could be discovered when their minds are filled with unfilling fantasy where everyone is told what to dream & think. Our society has set the ranks of who deserves what and who gets to thrive.

It is alright to forget to write for yourself or anyone because that is not what words are for, it is the affirmation of every true thought that breathes within every living thing. We have to forgive ourselves for following the wrong path before we can accept forgiveness from another. This is an important time to reflect that we cannot forget.

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