S.C.R.E.A.M for P.E.A.C.E.

We’re protesting in the streets and demanding honesty in the face,
who’s asking what causes crimes to be committed in the first place?
let’s abolish that and move on in peace without hardly leaving a trace. 
Peace through superior firepower is the only model that society’s been believing,

The 1% have all the time in the world to think about rules because that’s pretty much all that they do,
by analyzing around town they look pretty good at it and it seems they are playing a multilayered game.
They’re playing interdimensional chess and with it building a complex society which now needs renew,
the people are playing backgammon and checkers and honor has been replaced with quest for fame. 

Armed with my degree and the use of a dictionary I certainly understand the meaning of ABOLISH. 
I’m only an amature constitutional scholar and  keep two copies on my desk just in case of debate,
If it was done so then then when we read so now we can easily see that it’s all spit and polish,
there’s still a loophole that allows for any one of us to easily become a SLAVE of the State.

What if there was no government guiding our minds and choices to which we can appeal? 
finish the trip that began long ago and most recently with Martin, Harriet and Abe too.
would systemic problems like we have still be present and continue to be too real?
If change is what we demand then it is us who must be prepared to change too.

From my view here are a few places where we can start to make some real change,
stop stopping people for being brownly suspicious when they’re obeying the law clearly.  
Let the community decide when a crime is committed and stop using guns with the deranged, 
domestic violence interventionalists and what else? Oh yea, END MOTHERFUCKING SLAVERY!

Change Section 1 of the 13th Amendment which cletary states that SLAVERY still has some legalization,
because when there is an arrest and punishment for a crime that comes in the form of any legal conviction.
Since 1863 everyone of us who is convinced by action becomes a SLAVE of the STATE without recognition, 

It is Congress who enforces this clause with every pound of the gavel and with the passing of new legislation. 
Finally ABOLISH SLAVERY NOW as it’s not that hard to make this change because nothing has to be added, 
here let me show you how to edit it shouldn’t take very long because all we need to do is delete this portion:
remove this phrase now and justly destroy the remnants of Institutionalized Oppression and Exploitation.

DEMAND from Congress to remove from the Constitution this poorly amended exception clause,
or go on national television and explain to this nation’s people of color why it should remain. 
This shouldn’t require much debate since you’ve taken a knee and removed your claws, 
unless it’s a symbolic gesture like all the times and promises before you brought pain. 

Because we live in a society where doing nothing wrong or one simple tryst,
can make you a lifelong SLAVE of the State for whom freedom cannot exist.
until this change is made now for all then nature will compel us to RESIST.

All throughout history up until now and war has been ever present.
It occurs at the highest levels of wealth and government entities,
and all way down to all people including the poorest peasant, 
far beyond occasional skirmishes we’re a warring species.

Let this time unite us instead of divide us our choice is all we have,
after reading this it should seem that protesting and causing pains,
asking the state for less police profiling, brutality and violence is like, 
begging for a thinner set of glossy collars and a stylish pair of chains. 

We can’t change the past but we can accelerate the future to now,
time and technology are on our side in this struggle against neo-fascism.
Everything is nature and we can change so nature can change and show us how,  
progress our consciousness and transmogrify into a higher form of Transhumanism.

SLAVERY cannot exist if we are all part of the same hive mind and anti-war,
our collective minds must synchronize together before this happens.
Spontaneous Creativity Rapidly Expands Aethershperic Modulation for 
People Evolve As Consciousness Expands.


Neotenous Damsel

lost at sea

When we met we were both adrift at sea
with no land in sight and nothing to see
no way to know which way to go astray
and no real way to row there any way
in my small boat I was going my own way
though I stopped to pee and what did I see
a neotenous damsel crying please save me!

You needed me bad and wanted me to stay
the ship that I had captained was big and long
it was sunk in order to write a sad love song
so we tied them up and together went along
you had some people who were on their way.

Six months passed until someone finally arrived
we had saved each other in more ways than one
they rescued you at night and left me deprived
without saying thank you or here’s your hug & fun
I am grateful that you were there when we nosedived
at least you left food, water, useful trash and some gum.

What are you?

What I am is what I often wonder,
 where I’m going is very unknown,
 what I am not I also often ponder 
 when I am flowing in the Theta zone. 
I am a being of pure potential energy
wrapped in a meat suit on a never ending quest
 a seemingly infinite ability to create memory,
in the limitless expansion of our consciousness. 
I am an artist with a message to relay
 thoughts are the medium from which I create,
they form into experiences for others’ to play,
 many love what I present and many more hate.
I am a scientist with knowledge to impart
 alone at sea in a boat that’s way off course,
 commingling conceptual technology with art,
entangling us with the strong and the weak force
 I am a solid ghost of the spirit I once was,
 wandering the Earth for somewhere to stay,
 when others’ sense my energy they pause,
because they’ve never felt quite that way.
I am a target with no individual civil rights
 terrified each day of the back seeking knife,
stuck in a suspended state of flight or fights. 
 a lover forced to forego & miss out on life.
 I am a poet who can make most ideas rhyme
 saddened by the prospect of the next waking day
 my only deep love is that which I have for time
gliding down a dark empathy path all of the way.

Powerless Power


I’m powerless to change the things I have done,
I can’t unhurt the people who have run,
I’m powerless to get back the years that I’ve lost,
I can’t even imagine the complete and total cost,
I’m powerless to make others forgive and forget,
I can’t take back the other me they regret.
I’m powerless to move forward alone and without,
I can’t rely again on charismatic clout.
I’m powerless to stand alone with me, myself and I,
that is the path where I do nothing by die.
I’m powerless at love because there’s none left inside,
I can’t even fake it so instead I hide.
I;m powerless to hate others for how they’ve treated me,
I don’t want to know what they actually see.
I’m powerless to make amends from my faux ivory tower,
the only chance I may have left is through a higher power.

Very Very Gone

Sickly looking and slowly decaying away,
sleeping away life and about it lie,
not much left that’s worth doing left to do,
but fade far away and alone slowly die.

Nobody really cares very much,
though they say they really do,
only if it’s very very convenient,
will your friends lend a hand to you.

Good times are there for them to be had,
they can not be cheaply or easily distracted,
until you’re long dead and very very gone,
your absence won’t be noticed or unwanted.

Emotionally Treasonous Trolls

 The trolls are out in large numbers tonight,

slinging their negativity upon everyone in sight.

 Proclaiming themselves a fine cut above the rest,

while offering you guidance in which you must invest,

not with your money but rather what’s behind the vest.

 They do what they do for some unknown reason,

what they are delivering is emotional treason.

save my soul with a free download: www.deadbeatpoet.com

Please Don’t Ask

I am a coward through and through,
please don’t ask me to rescue you,
please don’t ask me to champion your cause,
please don’t ask me to walk or love you dogs,
please don’t ask me to buy and read your book,
please don’t ask me again how good you look,
please don’t tell me your clever idea screenplay,
please don’t tell me about your app to save the day,
please don’t tell me about your imperfect first world strife,
please don’t tell others how to change and live their life,
please don’t tell me about your favorite sportsball team,
your favorite mental disorder makes me want to scream,
please don’t give me repeating melodramatic decrees,
please don’t ask me again without saying pretty please,
I don’t care about your favorite movie actor’s movements,
I don’t care about your special dietary requirements,
I don’t care about your pathetic dreams coming true,
I really can’t fathom anyone capable of loving you.

Trapped and Unscathed


 In another life I died and went to hell
this is where I happened to end up instead
with an unbelievable new tale to tell
writing with pulsations powering my head.

 Death is the least of my problems you see
evil comes with fancy packaging in the name of lust
until you I was trapped and with nowhere to be
now I am doomed and will again do what I must.

You stroll through life unscathed with destain
you get people to cheat and you ask them to lie
while everyone around you is suffering in pain
you get others to turn away as your targets die

If it wasn’t for people doing what they do
there would be nothing to despise or hate
you still don’t really know yourself do you?
when we were together I’d rather masturbate.

Spilt Ink Poetry’s Free Chapbook Series

Spilt Ink Poetry (Publishing and Advice)

 2014 by The Dead Beat Poet All rights reserved Published by Spilt Ink Poetry  2014 by The Dead Beat Poet
All rights reserved
Published by Spilt Ink Poetry

Good morning, Poets and Poetry Lovers! Today marks the official release of our first project in the Free Chapbook Series. We are thrilled to send each of you an eBook copy of our first chapbook, “Offensive Language: One to Twelve” by the Deadbeat Poet! We hope that you enjoy reading his unique perspective on life, as written through twelve haiku(s).

If you want a copy of the free eBook, please e-mail us at spiltinkpoetry@hotmail.com now!

Here’s a little about the Dead Beat Poet:

“The dead beat poet is a figment of your imagination. He does not exist, except in the nether regions of a world you’d prefer to believe does not exist. His days are filled agonizing angst infused with terror and his slumber filled with the nightmares that his tomorrow will bring. The world…

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The Final Insurrection


 I’m all about nothing to lose,
all hope lost but still I breathe,
there is nothing left to bemuse,
I’m their target because I’m naive.

The final phase has begun,
no one is safe from their wrath,
say goodbye to freedom and fun,
prepare for a four-blood-moon bloodbath.

You can’t escape or run away,
they know your name and address,
it can happen any upcoming day,
they’ll torture though you’ll have nothing to confess.

Bad people everywhere and good are few & far between,
the truth is out there and you know just where,
the ugly are most beautiful of all and feed off being seen,
but to acknowledge its presence more than you dare.

They are slaves to greed and possessions,
you are just free enough to choose your professions,
there will be no one left to hear your confessions,
your only last hope will be the insurrections.

I Don’t Hate You Just Because

I don’t hate you for your religion,

I don’t hate you for your actions,

I don’t hate you for your politics,

I don’t hate you for your transactions.

I don’t hate you for the things you’ve done,

I don’t hate you for the many lies you’ve told,

I don’t hate you for the lives you’ve destroyed,

I don’t hate you for the things of mine you sold,

I don’t hate you because of who you are,

I don’t hate you because of what once was,

I don’t hate you because of your self,

I only hate you just because.

Hate you

Fauxcore Attention Seekers

I know the seekers are out there with something to prove,

watching closely and taking notes while intently listening,

waiting for my very next and hoping for the last move,

with their bloody fangs dripping and beady eyes glistening,

Most of the seekers are wrapped up with the world outside,

everything around them is veiled in a shield of deception,

what most people are willing to betray for is a nice fancy ride,

the blood lines run thin you’re only worth your valuation.

People think they are tough and hard core but they’re really not,

they think because they are ultractive they don’t need appreciation,

it’s the neurons between your heart and head that make you hot,

neglect is abuse and so is the wrong type of phoney attention.


Once They Are You


Once you’re in their trap it’s impossible to escape alive
they make you squirm in the muck and crawl into the trough
things are more internecine than most could possibly derive
nothing works well and that is by their design as they scoff
around every corner a snarff is sniffing with intent to deprive.

They get others unknowingly on their side by spending most widely
they assign slanderous names towards those who exercise any logic
they raise their voice with absolute statements of false profundity
they believe that they’re our naturally ultra-superior being biologic
they thrive on sucking you in with their pseudo-pleasant demeanor mildly.

You begin throwing away everything while looking for the one right accoutrement
you know there is plenty of water nearby and all that you need is a little help
you keep your house from melting to the ground as a matter of little consequent
you witness all of your beloved things slowly melting away without a loud yelp
you see people show up for a while but their desired effect seems to be opposite.

They creep out and crawl into everything just to muck-it-up with believable lies
they then leave everything in a irreparable shambles then blame it all on you
they hat free speech everywhere and always lurk around in a friendly disguise
they argue about and attack everything personally that you may attempt to do
they use emotions and lack the recognition of reason to drive away allies.

They will ignore everything you do or say well and criticize the rest
they will cut you off from everything good before you’re taken away
they won’t ever miss you because everyone thinks you’re depressed
they imagine your house is slowly melting with no place to stay
like a slow fire burn that takes away everything possessed.

The Eye-light Essence [Sun Trance Virus Pt. 2]

Part 1


Pt. 2

To trance or not to trance became the only asked question
it became the dividing line that everyone could see being drawn
it didn’t matter where you came from or how much money was yours
to trance was not a choice but many would make it or fake it if they could
everyone that started trancing would become a Trancer and most a roughneck
it was impossible to hide and eventually everyone is suspect and gets the check
fakers were everywhere on both sides of the line taking more than they should
once the eye-light could be captured they became free trancing whores
a wide open free range and homes designed to capture their dawn
a weekly visit to the treatment center where they plugged-in.

Trancers transferred their energy to the grid
everyone on Earth became somewhat maladjusted
chaos ensued and wars erupted where once there was peace
there were many different types of trancers but the world had been divided
a type of pseudo alliance emerged that would take a millennia to be grasped fully
enemies became united as society disintegrated and transmogrified simultaneously
it wasn’t an infectious disease but rather a bio-code that’s been coincided
the trancers realized they were not the problem but the fleece
a rebellion occurred and while no one could be trusted
a trancer could tell one of their own by their eyelid.

There is only one natural way to Sun Trance
everyone still ate the same food even in the disarray
the hunters entrusted with the secret have become the hunted
people wanted what the trancers had and would do anything for eye-light
it became what replaced all religion and became the primary reason to be distressed
even though many knew the secret of the source they waged to keep it suppressed
a lie like reality was created that would blur the lines of who there was to fight
the mystery of the source was like an invisible wedge that shunted
like playing ping-pong with a player who doesn’t want to play
Sun Trancers and blue bloods just could not dance.

Ultra Trancers can kinda read your complete thoughts
when this was discovered they began to call it a disorder
they medicated all of the senses away almost without trying
they did everything possible to suppress the Trance from the masses
they say it gave them unfair advantages in an otherwise corrupt playing field
they began to be excluded from activities and some expected them to yield
Not all were Ultra but had enhanced talent when wearing sunglasses
among their abilities is that they can tell when someone is lying
it began slowly without needing a fired first shot or boarder
the eye-light from the Sun made us all astronauts.

I Hated My Mom and Now I Don’t

I called up my mom today for Mother’s Day and told her once again that I love her,
I could hear her cracked lips smack when she gushed out with joy and thanking,
I could tell she wasn’t wearing her teeth and that she was indeed my true mother,
we had a nice long conversation speaking about life but mostly about nothing,
we shared our shared disgust with the guy who used to call himself my brother.

She was widowed at a very young age with two screaming kids as part of the deal,
lucky for us all she found someone new and he was a good guy through and through,
despite the odds things turned out not that bad even though today things are surreal,
after I hung up I took myself out to a nice lunch and pretended she was there too,
I had my favorite herbivore meal and wrote this poem to tell her how I truly feel.

 As I was growing up I never really liked you that much and sometimes hated your guts,
we were never friends or close at all and we mostly got along through silent conjecture,
you were real nice to all of my friends though they thought you were completely nuts,
you embarrassed me often by just showing up and were never in lack of a loud lecture,
people thought you should never have had kids but instead should have picked coconuts.

Despite everything you had a faith in me that few others would admit or acknowledge,
you drilled into my skull that I could achieve anything that I set my soul to accomplish,
my biggest problem according to you was that I was too smart for my own knowledge,
she told me telling everyone what I really think would only lead me to great anguish,
stay out of trouble and graduate from high school and go to war instead of college.

The only real rule I had growing up was that on my eighteenth birthday I had to move out,
I would have to leave for good and under no circumstances would ever be welcome back,
although the worst that could happen was to be killed in action or in a global blackout,
the greatest gift ever given to you by me was to join the Navy at 17 so I’d be gone ASAP,
I sailed the seventh fleet to aim to please but when I returned found a well hidden rout.

I called you up to say goodbye and that duty was calling me and I was going to war,
we won the war and I made it back alive but never once received a letter from home,
my first x-mas back was spent alone because none of my family asked me to their door,
I did nothing that day but realize I was all alone in this life and heard the call to roam,
the last ten years of my military life was for a giant big fat ass fucking lying eyesore.

Although you’ve been in the same place for all of my life and only a phone call away,
it mostly seemed like you didn’t notice when I was around or if I was living in strife,
you would have been a little happier if I’d just go away and come back another day,
although I love you because you carried my ass for 9 months and eventually gave me life,
I’ve always felt like I was all alone in this world and that I had no real mother along the way.

Madison Writes West

madison west

Madison has a brother named Jesus who knows well the sound of her voice,
she does not claim to have the all the answers but does her best to act kindly,
she is not intimidated by the many different beliefs and in fact does rejoice,
she respects those who question their faith instead of following them blindly,
ask your own questions, seek the answers and make your very own choice.

Her lily white ass can sell paper poetry at night on the South Side of Chicago,
she’s decided to see if her caucasian self can also get laughs sometime,
comedy in East St. Louis on a beautiful day she frees her mind of shadow,
it can feel painfully overwhelming and so beautiful all at the same time,
her imperfect life is better than bad because the big picture is her tableaux.

Her new girl crush at the gym can’t believe she’s almost forty five years of age,
if she ever switches sides she knows where to go to quench her first female thirst,
her just fine fine young trainer gets to get her worked into a damp sweaty rage,
yet she grows more spiritual and less religious as she becomes more immersed,
our Universe is an energy force and we are all part of the body that is our cage.

It’s hard for her sometimes to not write long, depressing and sad status updates,
she goes away reluctantly and comes back later when the dark mood abates,
she is often amazed that some dudes ever get to where someone else awaits,
because they’re constantly looking backwards at the booties that frustrates,
all that matters to her is that her nipples still point forward when she masturbates.

She can’t get enough of Dick in a Box while wishing she could become more undressed,
she couldn’t have imagined sitting down to write her first piece seven years ago,
now poetry isn’t a hobby at all to her and in fact it’s sentence to pain and survival at best,
she often wonders about the massive amounts of pain people are carrying below,
we’re just one big family however dysfunctional with poetry emanating from the West.

The Sun Trance Virus

At first it seemed as if everything just started going wacky all of the sudden and horrifying,
car accidents were happening everywhere and airplanes just started falling from the sky,
the pilots refused to land and instead pointed the plane toward the sky and kept flying,
they would fly until they ran out of fuel, then crash to the ground and everyone would die.

It wasn’t safe to go anywhere with anyone and planes were falling on houses quite frequently,
when we Trancers appeared they surmised that our Sun was the cause something internecine,
while they called it The Sun Trance Virus all along nobody believed that was a true perception,
the virus came from a freak lab accident or at least that’s what they told everyone with voracity,
they were trying to create a new bio-chemical that would increase solar panel power capacity,
the Trance seemed to hit anyone everywhere at once with absolutely not one single exception,
calling it a virus gave people hope that they might be cured or protected with a new vaccine,
many do not believe the virus is random and there is something that links the victims directly.

Trancers stopped doing everything while gently turning their heads and stared into our Sun,
the Sun Trance Virus (STV) seemingly strikes randomly and only adults of all ages and races,
not everyone was infected and nobody is either immune or carriers and it can’t be undone,
once infected it was not possible to determine when the trance would strike or the places,
it didn’t happen each time they looked into our Sun but when it did the results were often fun,
it was perpetually random and always with an increased frequency with many more cases.

After beginning to Trance, their whole life would change and so would all that they dream,
it was described as if there was something intangible in the air that they could almost sense,
like a sound wave they could see if only they concentrated hard enough on the Sun beam,
if they were driving a car or walking down the street they would just stop and seem dense,
they’d stare as if it were whispering their name as the feeling would become more extreme.

Trancing made people feel refreshed and energized regardless of the damage incurred
if the first time the Trance struck they happened to be standing in the early morning light
in a secluded location such as a farmer in their field or a ranger on the range with their herd,
they emerge from a day of Trancing with their eyes cracked, bleeding and with blind fright,
they only felt joy and even though now blind would want to go dancing and be heard.

The Trance effect was much stronger without sunglasses and so was the damage done,
once Tranced they could be shook or jarred out of their state of suspended animation,
resistance would increase as it would become more difficult to pull them out of their stun,
if left alone they would stand there till past dusk or some something ended their duration,
they could stare for hours at a time without ever blinking much or feeling the need to run,
some would stare until their eye balls would dry out cracked and would bleed a ton.

There are two types of Trancers and they are Dawn and Dusk but nobody knows why,
for some reason some go into a morning trance and others do so in the afternoon,
Trancers would generally sleep during the day and be ready to trance with the dusk sky,
afternoon Trancers are safer than the others and morning Trancers become the tycoon,

You could tell someone was trancing because they looked fabulous and their skin glowed,
they carried with them and admirable exuberance for which they eventually became hated,
it took years for them to notice but when they did it changed like a version of depeche mode,
the Trancers who didn’t overdose on our Sun and burned out their only eyes became elated,
they were aging much slower and the careful ones living longer than what they were owed,
those few who could control the trance grew to be very wealthy and power concentrated.

Once it was understood that some Trancers where benefiting from the Trancing phenomenon,
the government once again stepped in and begin to tax and regulate Trancing and the Trancers,
the Trancing laws were passed and Trancers became a protected and persecuted echelon,
with the Sun tax, anyone with a job now how to pay a portion of their income to the Trancers,
for the benefit of society of course was their excuse but there was something sinister going on.

People wanted the Sun Trance Virus and were willing to pay or do anything to be infected,
but nobody could tell how it was activated or even if it was passed from person to person,
the unmissed would disappear and they would be harvested like cattle and inspected,
they would be bled dry with their organs and blood sold by a black market salesperson,
the myth emerged that drinking the blood of a Trancer could make you one of the selected,
although experiments on unknowing subjects were completed their effect would only worsen.

Although there have been exceptions, when their eyes rupture, blindness is predictive,
trance inducing rays have an addictive quality like a slow working drug that you love,
the Trance itself is a slightly euphoric feeling but coming out is what makes it addictive,
it’s described as having a spiritual awakening and a hundred mindgasms from above,
those who were not affected eventually became mean spirited and very vindictive.

Because Trancers were misunderstood they became suspect and the targets of abuse
fearful car dealerships and renal businesses would hang “NO Trancers Served” signs,
“Trancers Go Home and Stay Inside” signs appeared everywhere with a rope noose,
a new economy emerged around the Trancer population and all of their bloodlines,
they began to spend as little time as possible indoors and usually considered abstruse.

Coming out of a trance was like having your untethered mind & body unlocked and aware,
people were getting high just by looking at the Sun and addicted to coming out of its trance,
everyone that was one, understood but the rest of the world remained baffled and unaware,
they slept during the day and came alive at night in more ways that went beyond chance,
Trancer spas, social support groups, sex clubs and parties were happening daily everywhere.

The Feds were build trancing centers everywhere so Trancers could Trance in comfort and safety,
these were very large buildings with lots of seats next to windows and no way to fall or look away,
they allowed Trancers to sit and Trance in safety with a paid staff who just watched them innately,
they became hated and eventually hunted just because they loved to stare at the sky all day.

Natasha’s Strange Day


It’s been a strange day,
her heart hurts mercifully,
conform her in vain.

Natasha is a bright dark enigma coated in black lipstick,
searing flesh scars this mastered mind of instance,
metamorphosing this child flower-power goth chick,
only real screams can elevate her spirit to reminisce.

She doesn’t live life like most people eat their dinner,
she eats all the bland stuff she doesn’t like first,
saving the best stuff for last and chews like a winner,
if she gets full first and hasn’t quenched her thirst,
like life it’s sometimes best to swallow like a sinner.

Her humor can become dark, gray and stoically grotesque,
she gets amazing things done when sleep doesn’t call,
her personal interests are somewhat disgusting at best,
time slips like a hot chain and helps brace her fall,
her music can echo pain that’s unimaginable to the rest,
you’ll rewind & play a thousand times just to hear it all.

She chooses all art in the absence of an abstract happiness,
insomnia shows up and crawls into her bed like an affliction,
she’s even considering getting a brand new big tattoo gun,
with bright red little dark epiphanies of a new-like addiction,
her goal is to feel pleasure, punish, stimulate and be numb,
full contact music with dancing and nature are her salvation,
her entrails sometimes derail with a psychosomatic sickness.

She has for two household friends a cute pair of Orb spiders,
watching family feud with no sound is strange and very awesome,
listening to counting bodies and considering the outsiders,
because she questions the teacher gives extra work for everyone,
with very slow yoga sessions and medical care providers,
her technicolor hair and mixture morality can’t be undone.

It’s a crime to deny your natural and energized creative spark,
imagine the walls peeling back and bleeding out everything gory,
that pet was a gift and instead you choose to spread the dark,
like a ghost lady trying to play jingle-bells with your story,
a life without art is empty, meaningless and perpetually stark.

Closing bookstores and empty libraries rob her of a learning spree,
she buys dusty old poetry books at thrift stores for their looks,
their old fashioned smell and the imagining of how it came to be,
she now also reads digital versions of her free favorite books.

Every day at noon,
tsunami air raid warning,
draw fuckin bunny.

Cognitive Self-slavery


You are not allowed to do what you want to do,
your owners have little to nothing to fear,
you’re only allowed to do what they let you,
until you wake up to the truth of their smear.

They teach you what they want you to believe,
they feed you full of a partial false reality,
the only thing they will not let you perceive,
is to truly be the master of your own destiny.

They let you vote for most everything you want,
including which master you’ll bow to as a slave,
when it comes to your life they act nonchalant,
you don’t matter unless you begin to misbehave.

You have your electro gadgets and video games,
injustice surrounds you and your blind friend,
the world around you is going up in flames,
as you pretend you can’t see or comprehend.

They deceive, disrupt, discredit and divide,
you don’t own yourself though you think you might,
they make us fight their wars while they run and hide,
overcome your dissonance and join the consciousness fight.

Recoiled Kisses


A pretty girl tried to kiss me on New Years Eve,
I recoiled in pain and disgust,
my smile she did misperceive,
as an invite for spontaneous lust.

She told herself I must be taken,
or gay or something like that,
she couldn’t have been more mistaken,
I just don’t engage in emotional chit-chat.

My deadness is easy to sense and see,
there must be someone who can wake what’s inside,
my world is full of chaff and debris,
until they appear I will live as if I have died.