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CURB your

enthusiastic


ENCORE.

celebrity

be DAMNed.



[Method|Acting]

....................~

~....................


[Modus|Operandi]



serial

PSYCHO-

rapists.

status:

quo.




[Sit-Com|AUDIENCES]

..........................~

~..........................


[Concentration|Camps]



The sun will come up,
TOMORROW.
Bet YOUR
BOTTOM

dollar. The
sun WILL
COME
up,
tomorrow.
Bet YOUR
bottom dollar. The sun will
COME UP, tomorrow. Bet YOUR BOTTOM dollar. Tomorrow
I WILL EAT YOUR FACE. Tomorrow I will rip YOUR LACE PANTIES
with my razor sharp cock. Tomorrow I'll FUCK YOUR BRAINS.
Tomorrow I'll SUCK blood from YOUR ANUS.
I'll CUM in your eyes. Spit ON YOUR CUNT.


The sun will come up, tomorrow.
[BET YOUR BOTTOM DOLLAR]


CURB|ENCORE.DAMN|PSYCHO|AUDIENCES.
TOMORROW|YOUR|BOTTOM|WILL|COME.YOUR
COME.UP|YOUR|BOTTOM.I|WILL|EAT|YOUR|FACE.
YOUR|LACE|PANTIES.FUCK|YOUR|BRAINS.SUCK
YOUR|ANUS.CUM.ON.YOUR.CUNT.


[BET YOUR BOTTOM DOLLAR]


...


Tomorrow.



Tomorrow.




Tomorrow.





Tomorrow.






Tomorrow.







Tomorrow.








TOMORROW.
 
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apologies are insufficient.
my words drip like VD.
this infectious disease
cradles me. unquestion
the future. certainly,
as feathers are
to pancakes mix.
remind me.
(next time)

and....
behave
 
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Operation (SKILL GAME - where you're the doctor)

A senseless nation sends muffled vibrations
Scuffled descending sine waves breaking synapse
and facing mirrors reflecting an ending civilization
Sending prophets endless topics
Drinking thoughts and pissing self-replicating systems
Symptoms of a closer inspection pricked with an injection of truth serum
An infection, A connection of concave connotations...

Dissecting resurrected surgical tension like back in the day playing operation
Buzzing like fuck, Like 2 dragonflies stuck
Trapped in a time capsule, operating on last oxygen breath
Gasping asthmatic grip ripping open the chest
Revealed the game step by step
 
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Kansas said the end is near, or nearer than you think miss helter skelter, long live the divide and ides of march.
But honestly, the jackal wrought his own end. And even the sisters could only save their skins, after all was said and done.

Maybe there was no river.
 
their little shorts, pom-poms, red tees damp around the neck. summer sun at a stoplight. “come on. it’s for a good cause.” turn my stereo down. the language isn’t appropriate.
 
Fucking fucking bullshit,
Bullshit fucking fuck.
Fucking fucking bullshit,
Bullshit bullshit fuck.

Fucking fucking bullshit,
Bullshit fucking fuck.
Fucking fucking bullshit;
Fucking bullshit fuck.
 
Euphoria Delusion

I've been a god
Taught the nine hundred and ninety nine names for god
To crowds of six hundred and sixty six thousand
I've bolted through fields of dreams
Torn globes at the seams
And ignored the screams
Danced the twelve step fandango
The cocaine tarantella
Raised the tempo, turbo
Fucked a heroine, hard
Did it large
And when she said
I just want to writhe with you
Glide straight through the skies with you
It was ecstasy
Oh it was
But there's a poison in my veins
A coldness in this place, see
For I know I always will be
Hunted by the shades of half-forgotten nightmares
 
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Can everything be as beautiful as the sea,
Full of wonder full of mystery,
Oh can life be as beautiful as the sea,
Always in motion but no destination no place to be,
Can everything be as beautiful as the trees,
Full of wisdom full of history,
Oh can life be as beautiful as the trees,
Growing and growing to be all that they can be,

Look into the sea and what do you see?
A piece of art or continuous fear
Look at the trees and what do you see?
Nature at its finest or just food for the dear,

Can everything be as scary as the sea,
Full of predators full of misery,
Oh can life be as scary as the sea,
Others actions unknown a fate with endless possibilities,
Can everything be as scary as the trees,
Full of death full of injury,
Oh can life be as scary as the trees,
Swinging and swaying
Branches be betraying,
Creaking and cracking,
Sunlight is lacking,
Death is lurking and dinners at three,

Look into the sea and what do you see?
A piece of art or continuous fear
Look into the trees and what do you see?
Nature at its finest or just food for the dear,

Well I look into the sea and what do I see,
something full yet vast and empty,
Well I look into the trees and what do I see,
Something alive yet dead to everybody,

Oh I look into the sea yes I look into the sea,
Oh I look into the trees yes I look into the trees,
And what do I see oh what do I see?
Nothing


There lyrics not really a poem but still though it could be placed here
 
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Papaver takes up the space in my heart
No wonder theres no room for others

What once seemed so soulfull now deadens my days
 
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Some emo shit:

Blackened eyes seek light
Heavy limbs hang down to the earth

Tired and sunken this feeling is futile
The shadows won't ever disperse
 
Walked southern, I western
She stained the walls blue with her own reflection
Ready to run
I ain't afraid of the golden sun
Tree tops and a grape vine
Steady to see your life unfold
If only I could turn back time
Spread out my wings and float away
 
The lost and weary vagrant,
loping toward the town,
favoring the outskirts of the city,
keeping hidden from the authorities,
with their whistles and batons.

The worn and weathered traveller,
advancing at a pace best described
as shuffling.

Seeking refuge within the village,
searching out the sorcerers and the
witch doctors flogging their wares.

Cures, remedies, and snake oil - to ease the reckless
and the bewildered. All the vacant souls on their missions
of uncertain objectives, shuffling like zombies.

There are too folk like these,
queued up in the shire's bank,
awaiting the teller's assistance - vagrants themselves.

A. <3
 
I am dead inside.
Useless salty garbage,
flowing out from my eyes.
A different perspective,
A different time,
Useless all the same, as
still I cry.
Why does it hurt so?
Did I deserve this?
It doesn't matter now,
Dirty fucking bliss.

A. <3
 
They say "never act in a passion" but i gotta make it happen
time to cash in, Walter White life expectancy
out in Vegas, couple hoes next to me
head so good it gives me memories
no one respecting me, till i go *Ca-Ching!*
cash the only thing is registering with the mother,
i just want to be a father, watch my daughter grow from things that I taught her
but that's a fairytale, i lived so long in a scary hell that i'm aware now
of my environment and I'd be lying if i said I was cryin so save your violin
11 years disabled come out of retirement
no love? sociopath on a cash grab till im dying, BITCH!
 
Opiate rap

Half the time
I wonder if I'll get by
Choose life
Or choose just to get high
Sometimes I think
They're one in the same
some people out there
might think its deranged
But I chase it man
The chance to get blown
walk the streets in solitude
thinking alone
where do I go?
What do I do?
Till I find myself coming
straight back to you

My opiate queen, wrapme in your blanket tillI'm feeling serene
till I'm feeling supreme
till I beam
out
A smile
just once in a while
cause everybody wants to meet
their inner child
 
Ruminatin'

They say think before you act,It'llkeep your life intact
I've been thinking my whole life andStill don't know if that's a fact

In factI think that thought sometimes pullsme down too deeply
I wonder how to react to aworld where nothings ever true
the thought, it bothers me brothers
Does it ever bother you?

The problem seems to me, Post-modern mentality;
its fractured, dissonant, cracked
The question remains;
Can we clean up our act?
 
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5 Days of destitution

I cannot place words to describe how I feel when you’re not around,Its like the world has stopped spinning, like existence has drowned. I'm stuck here just floating around, waiting and waiting till my turn comes back around.

For better or worse life has its ways and as you grow you will learn this lesson. From left to right you will be thrown as if a falling leaf, with the force of the wind as life, you will be blown and thrown and from this
the lesson of life you will be shown.

Seeing you one day a week makes me helpless and it gets cold real quick without you. Monday to Thursday is filled with an empty sadness, Friday is a feeling of excitement because tomorrow I get to see and be with you. Saturday I am completed, having you by my side. Father and Son, you make me glow with pride. Sunday comes - the worst day of all, I wish you were here.
Positive feelings have been kicked out of gear.
5 more days till I smile and life once again becomes clear.

To hear your innocent voice saying those seven little words that bring so much happiness yet so much pain
"Daddy I am going to miss you"
Six more sleeps little man and we will see each other again, so be a good boy and look after your Mum.
We will get through this one step at a time as Father and Son.

Taken from www.tearsfromanaddict.com
 
You make me feel like
everything will be all right,
that I will sleep
right through the night,
I think your smell will
always be a delight,
Inside of me a fire
has begun to ignite,
Burning viciously under a
full orchestra of moonlight,
You make me feel like
dreams can come true,
That a future lies
between mean and you,
I no longer feel dazed
and confused,
Wandering aimlessly,
lost and nursing,
A soul with a bruise,
Could it possibly be true?

A.
 
^Great as always Ashley <3
(& props for the Zep reference :D)

Random unfinished description I wrote the other day:

Overflowing beads of water flew down onto crippled roofs of rotting wood as men ran for cover and women ushered disobedient children out of the rain. Torn in half by a violent clap of lightning, the dark abyss above poured its hatred onto the residents of Brestum, Brittany, and let its wrath flow freely through the muddy streets. July had presented August with an unforgiving cue and the typically bright French summers had met their demise in this year of 1258. Raisins across the country sulked and turned to stone, halting wine production, and apples appeared to hold a death wish for their murderers as each bite yielded an unrelenting poison. Religious fanatics sprinted down slippery streets speaking of the vengeance of God.

One such religious fanatic was presently busy plucking inspiration from the celestial teardrops. His shaved skull dripping with exhilarated frenzy, he paced excitedly through the vacant alleyways, muttering invented prayers under his breath and wringing his hands in a fit of frustration when the mood overtook him. A pair of giggling children gaped at the grotesque gibbering figure and drew a large crescent shape in the mud as they walked past him. Bulging, veiny eyes followed them slowly for a few seconds, eventually losing interest and resuming their conversation with the falling furies.
Swirling robes of penitent black flew along a winding path and settled themselves on soaked stone steps a couple kilometers above the drenched town, thunderous clouds echoing in the distance.
 
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