zondag 30 november 2014

Come on get down with the sickness.

The downside to always being the last to speak:

You always know everything that has been said a million times before.
You have to be right, because the last person closes the arguments. NO EXCEPTIONS!
You will always upset someone's feelings and stir a rebuttal in their HEARTS.
You will then be forced to reply, after all you are the last person to speak,
you close the arguments. No Exceptions!
You are a huge hypocrite, consistently inconsistent because
you always need to adjust what you said before to appear wiser and more just.
Just as you did before. 
You are learning while you debate, that's why you always close the arguments. No exceptions!

vrijdag 14 november 2014

The Untold Secrets Of The Absolutely Balls To The Walls 65.000.000 B.C. Party.

Chrono trigger is a time travel RPG the chapters take place in the various time periods.
2300 A.D.
Marle and Lucca had convinced Chrono to go back to 2300 A.D.
To do some shopping of things that weren't yet invented in their own period. After Fashion visits to 600 A.D. and the extremely long candy raid,
in their own time period of 1000 A.D.
Chrono had become somewhat weary of Marle's insatiable lust for shopping.
But since Lucca insisted on it as well, he could not refuse them. The merchants in 2300 A.D. didn't have much of anything in stock anyway.
so how long could it possibly take? Lucca was however the one dragging the pace this time,
as she seemed to be haggling with the futuristic mechanics salesman, over some electrical wires.
Marle seemed to be done pretty quickly.
Though the unsavory medical supplier she had made a cheap deal with,
gave Chrono a creeping gut feeling.
"Hurry up, girls", he yelled at them,
"we still have that Red Rock to collect in the prehistoric ages."
Even saying these words made him weary. How was he going to fight dinosaurs,
with two prepubescent, fragile, male depended girls on his side? He wished that stubborn broadsword wielding frog would just join their quest already. Why would we need to reforge his so called mythical Masamune sword for that. Masa and Mune didn't particularly seem like strong mythical beings to him,
how powerful could they be as a sword? It took only two lightning strikes, of his newfound and awesome magic abilities,
to strike them down.
Finally Chrono had enough,
he walked back to the time portal swearing with all kinds of profanities, addressed at both girls until they decided to run after him.
Lucca unlocked the time gate and they warped back to The End Of Time.
At the End Of Time.
Melchior, the lazy prophet was still there,
as usual sleeping as he leaned against that lamp post,
accompanied by that heep of metal junk they picked up, from their last visit to 2300 A.D. Lucca and her toys, that's whats got him in to this mess in the first place. It would have to stay behind again,
seeing as the time gates would only stand 3 people entering at the same time. Indeed, this was how they found out about this weird anomaly of the space time continuum. By bringing along a 4th companion, they accidentally discovered the End of time and space. Strangely enough still inhabited by 2 people.
If you would call Spekkio, the shape-shifting mage a person by default anyway. "we can go to the prehistoric ages,
after I have had another round against that cunning magic fiend" Chrono said to the group. But they all heavily objected to this notion. "We don't have the time to spare, Chrono" Marle replied. A statement he found Blond beyond believe. "We are time travelers, Marle!" Chrono bellowed at her. "Well..." Lucca offered in her defense,
"even though we are at the end of all time and in possession of the key to it's continuum, I do have the sense that our quest
is of a pressing matter and we should proceed as hastily as we can."
Disappointed as he was, Chrono still agreed with them
and they proceed to the hall of light pillars,
the room that connects all time gates. They open the previously unopened pillar of light said to lead to a prehistoric era.
65000000 B.C.
Upon exiting the portal, the party shrieks in fear,
when they notice the ground is some hundred feet below them. Marle is the first to act, as she conjures up a sturdy bubble to surround them,
mere moments before they slam onto the ground. It helped save their lives
but they were still knocked out from the impact, just long enough to get surrounded. Hideous reptilian creatures looking for a fight are flogging in from all sides. Chrono fends of one opponent after another, while getting back up fire from Lucca. Instantaneously Marle is doing her best, to heal all of the wounds inflicted upon them,
from the fall and all through the skirmish. But it all seems hopeless. As they are about to give up, Chrono hears a primal call coming from above. His eyes are gleaming in disbelief over what he is seeing. As a scandalously dressed, prehistoric woman joins their side of the battle. Skillfully taking out the Reptites one by one. Something hard, is stirring in Chrono's pants, as he watches her do this. "am I getting turned on, by watching a woman fight?" He asks himself, while brutally slaying the last, still standing reptilian scumbag. The devious skank approaches Chrono and he stretches out his hand to shake hers. All while saying, "Thank you for your help. I am Chrono, pleased to meet you." She grabs his hand firmly and then started groping his muscles
and various other parts of his body. "I can't take this much longer." Chrono started thinking, "I'm about to burst." Insanely jealous and feeling completely neglected Marle walks up to the prehistoric lady,
stretching out her right arm. "I.
AM.
MARLE.
WHAT.
IS.
YOUR.
NAME?"
She says pronouncing every word as slow like and retarded as possible. Not in any way disturbed by her manner of speaking the groping lady replied. "me, Ayla! Ayla, strong! Chrono also strong!" She pecks a kiss on Chrono's cheek as she finished saying this. Lucca stepped forward as well, she had quite a few questions for Ayla. She asked away about where exactly we were and what exactly it was that attacked them. Ayla explained that they were called reptites
and that the humans were at war with these creatures. She also said, that she would explain any other question they would have back at her village. Where she planned to throw our time traveling warriors a big welcome party. It turned out Ayla was the village chief, the greatest warrior in all of Ioka which was the name she gave for her village.
Perhaps she could even be the greatest warrior, in the whole prehistoric world. Ayla loved powerful people and she felt insanely attracted to Chrono and his friends. Adoring their fighting abilities and their voodoo powers. When asked about the shiny Red Rock she told them it was indeed in her possession. She was not about to give up the Red Rock so easily though. Chrono would have to beat Ayla in a soup eating contest to win his prize. After all, a strong warrior, needs a strong appetite. At the party they would have this soup eating contest,
as well as typical prehistoric music and dancing. The soup was a mixture of vegetables and fermented berries giving it a slight alcoholic kick. None the less, Chrono soon began to eat a belly full of this wondrous soup,
as did his opponent. Meanwhile the rhythm of the jungle drums stirred in Marle her dancing beast. She took out the medicinal pills, she had bought from the future merchant,
as she thought: "now was a good as time as any." "Take plenty of water", the merchant had said,
"these capsuled happiness are still quite experimental, you could get dehydrated." It took 15 minutes until she felt anything, but suddenly the world seemed even more lively. All the colors were more intense then ever before
and she had this great warm feeling inside of her. When after some hours she got tired of dancing, she felt an enormous thirst. She was looking around the fire lit plaza to see if she could find Lucca. She saw the soup race was still in full progress, but it seemed Chrono was winning. Finally after scanning the perimeter she found Lucca sitting in a corner fiddling with some wires and circuit boards.
She was stuffing them in a long cylindrical tube and when she flipped the on switch,
the device would hum and buzz. She sat down besides her and leaned against her shoulder. "I love Chrono, Chrono is nice" she blabbed. She looked at Lucca with big dilated pupils, like a puppy dog in love. "Lucca is nice too" she said short after that, in a soft and sensual voice. Lucca, who was laying her last hands on her new invention, flipped the switch once more. The big cylindrical tube started vibrating in her hands. In full awe Marle started clapping her hands together, "yeah it works", she said. "of course it works", Lucca replied, as she handed Marle a mug of water. Eagerly, she drank it al down, handed the mug back to Lucca and asked for more. When she had enough,
she threw her hands around Lucca's neck and hugged her to the ground. "I love you Lucca" she whispered in Lucca's ears. Lucca blushes, but then she replies, "I love you too princess Nadia." They make out and Lucca feels like her heart is pumping, with the same speed as the drums. When they stop kissing, she swallows some spit and feels a small capsule form,
slide down her throat. Ayla set's her last bowl of soup down, "no more! Chrono win." Triumphantly he raises his bowl over his head, then he tumbles over on his back. Ayla climbed on top of him. "Chrono, so strong. Chrono make Ayla feel sexy" Then she picked up the intense groping of this afternoon,
but this time Chrono can't seem to get it up. "Chrono get hard! Why Chrono no get hard, Chrono get hard!"
She yelled, as she jumped up and started dragging him to her hut. "Ayla will make Chrono feel sexy, Chrono will get hard!" Once inside the hut, she rips the clothing of his body and starts kissing him all over. But Chrono has passed out and no matter how hard Ayla sucks
on every part of his naked flesh,
he doesn't seem to get it up anymore. Greatly disappointed she falls asleep in his arms. Lucca and Marle, have in the mean time also taken each others clothes off. They heavily fondle each others breast,
while intertwining their tongues and Lucca reaches out for her new invention. She flipped the switch on an thrusts the pulsating machine against the princesses clit. "ow, oeh"
Some horny yelps escape Marle's mouth before Lucca puts her tongue back inside of it. "Nadia, oh sweet princess Nadia." Lucca moans as Marle slips two fingers into her moist vagina and pulsates them,
up and down and in and out again. The noise that the vibrator makes,
attracts the men of the prehistoric vilage and they form a circle jerk around the horny ladies. The girls don't seem to notice, or they don't seem to care. Too much fun they have with each other. Marle lays down on her back, spreading her legs wider,
as to invite the pulsating cylindrical tube into her dripping cooch. "Ah" She screams, as Lucca makes it disappear inside her deeper with every thrust. The men around them get excited and some blow their load prematurely,
as it lands on marle's face, she licks her lips to get a taste. Then she reaches out her hands to one of the more hung Neanderthals
and starts jerking on his throbbing schlong. She continued to do this to all the prehistoric men,
until they drop off satisfied and she finally climaxed herself. Kino, Ayla's former love interest, decided to give his queen her goodnight kiss. after the party had calmed down he snuck into her hut and became furious with anger,
when he saw her laying with another man.He stole Chrono's belongings
and while he was at it took the rest of his friends precious items as well. He would show these temptators from the future not to mess with him and his people. He would use the sawed off foot of a reptite, to make some tracks around the camp and then hide their belongings,
in the vast Jungle outside of the town.He was ambushed there
and the reptites actually did take all of the items he stole away from him. Ashamed of what he had done he still stood there when Ayla, Chrono and his friends showed up, on the outskirts of the jungle the very next morning.

vrijdag 27 juni 2014

I am calmy pissed off.

I am calmly pissed off.
I wonder how a world can see anything through such blind eyes.
I hear celebrity blabber and
I see viral videos.
I want to know who these people are that are making them go viral like that.
I am calmly pissed off.

I pretend to not care about the whole rampaging Internet society, but they are my audience.
I feel I need them, but I need them to grow up. strap a set of balls on, show a little wit.
I touch my cranium and scratch it proudly, I can no longer stroke my beard.
I worry if I'll still be able to buy sedatives like alcohol and cigarettes.
I cry no longer over how pathetic addiction is, I can live with myself, everybody else can suck it.
I am calmly pissed off.

I understand a little about social economics, evolution and the power of the brain.
I say pretty words in poetry, mostly on blogs, I wish I had a video camera, I could be a superstar vlogger.
I dream of silly things like that, winning the lottery, becoming famous, but you must remember to love yourself or you'll be lying in a bed all day. Doing nothing but dreaming.
I try to wake up from the delusions I have spun for myself, but I see before me all of humanity deceiving themselves,
how will I hope to break free.
I am calmly pissed off.
Mood: Shaving that much beard is odd.Music: Picture coming soon.

vrijdag 20 juni 2014

What's to come

Have you ever used the way back machine?
Have you seen the world of today.
Could you really find any comparison at all?
Somewhere along the line we have lost our humanity,
while the Internet is all that's left of who remember it.

How it was.
Before the zombies took over.
Brains constantly craving for more.
With their faces glued to screens.
We called the mobile ones walkers and the ones who've grown too fat to move.
We call those the trolls.
All these people hide out in the darkest, most depraved corners of the Internet.
The trolls being especially vile.

We try to stay offline. Unplug. Stay below the radar.
We are a small group of survivors, hiding mostly in caves and jungle's.
Always on the run from their leaders.
They who own the zombies, they who created them.
We've named them Corporus Maximus.
They sold our brothers and sisters poison and we bought it.

I used to be one of them.
I used to believe,
used to think I was connected to something great.

Used to laugh at all the memes of mutilated woman and corpses of dogs.
Fed of hate speeches by Ultra Conservative Neo-Jezus-Nazi's.
I used to be just like everybody else.
Drank Coca Mountain Peps Energy and devoured Pizza-Hot-Dog heart-attacks for breakfast.
Sometimes with 5% actual Dog-DNA.

I ate real food for the first time, when I was 25.
A guy pulled a root from the land behind our house back then.
He washed the dirt of and told me to eat it.
He owned a farm, where he grew this food from the planet itself.
He was the one who told me where it all began.
How there was once a time people were devastated,
by a viral video containing random violence.

The farm no longer stands, it was long ago overrun by zombies.
Implants.
Their military force.
Men implanted with the law chips.
These chips sends the Internet directly into their brains,
where they search for "Illegal activities".
These chips also control the bodily functions,
so that an implant can be given orders and directions, to apprehend strays.
People who've unplugged.

We vowed to destroy the corporate bastards,
but 15 years into the rebellion and we are still too low on numbers.
Worse, many have fallen to the machine.
We fear that we may very well be in the last undiscovered camp.
Counting only 3000 followers, our future looks bleak.

My daughter Lain says the war will end in the year 2034
That's only six years from now.
She is a brilliant A.H.I and I fear that if her calculations are correct.
The humanity I've programmed inside her, will be the last bit remaining on earth.

maandag 12 mei 2014

Old man loves getting high.


"Man and drugs." Said the old man. "They have been in a cloudy relationship for eons now, Fredrick."
He continued as he drew a cloud of smoke from his medicinal spliff.

Old man Jones had rheumatism and had been eager for ages now to dance his sorrows away.
He used to be a phenomenal dancer, from ballroom to ballet and even disco or break dancing.
Grandpa Jones still went clubbing when Frederic was still a baby boy. Then he turned 60 and his whole life changed. He had to be medicated all day long, one pill after another.
His family had sent him to a retirement home and there he met Fredrick.

Fredrick loved coming to the old folks home.
After his real grandpa died, he kept returning.
Most kids his age liked to get high in the park with their friends.
He liked getting high in the yard of the retirement home.
These people had really stories to tell.
Not like the hazy clouded dialog his peers made.
But clouds filled with old dreams, memories and desires.

Old man Jones used to be reluctant to join Fredrick, Betty, Rose and Koos in smoking weed.
He had seen plenty of drug users come and go in his life of dancing and with these pills they've put him on, he used to feel so dirty.
But he had soon come to realize the benefits on his old and tired body and he was always curious what those old stoners were laughing about every day.
When he finally gave in he gave huge speeches about all these drugs he had knowledge of.
Betty and Rose would laugh it off sipping their coffee.

Fredrick would always nod in agreement.
He used to have a brother, Patrick, who was five years older than him.
He loved his brother and he smoked his first Joint with Patrick. But Patrick used to love dancing too. Clubbing mostly.

Fredrick lost his older brother, too coke and party drugs.
He was found on the toilet of a gay bar.
Ass exposed with his nose on the toilet seat.
A bunch of used wrapping was tested positive for coke.
His mom and dad had freaked when they found out.
But mostly because they had no clue their son was gay.
Patrick had told Fredrick all about that of course.
They used to have no secrets, but I guess he forgot to tell Fredrick about all the coke he used.

When he told the old folks about what happened, nobody laughed but old Jones. "Fredrick" He said. "Do you think he went out smiling?"

vrijdag 11 april 2014

The doll has to go!


"Why was this in my room mother?"
Her question was piercing and menacing.

"I found Mary Louise in the mud in the back yard. I thought that you might had lost her. So I washed her and put her back on your bed."

Sarah threw the doll against the wall behind her mom. It smashed into pieces.
"Mary Louise was dead!! I buried her."
She was hysterical and angry.
She set her arms locked in her hips and took an Angry tone. "Big girls don't play with dolls!"

PS.
(foto belongs to Joyce Mars, https://www.facebook.com/JoycePhotoSupport )

PPS. (support! support!)

zondag 6 april 2014

She probably has a boyfriend

She probably has a boyfriend.

"Hello, I'm that creep that posted something on your new picture last week.
Why haven't you gotten back to me?"

If you think that is creepy, then you are right.
I you think that is exaggerated, you must not have been to the Internet before.

I can not imagine what it would be like, to be a woman and surfing the web.
I can not imagine, what it would feel like to see the comment, "babe I love you" at least ten times per day.
Or "girl you're so pretty", for every picture you upload.

I have not the slightest clue what that girl must go through, when all the boys cruising her profile, ask her to go on cam.
Even though I don't know just as well, how they missed that part of her profile, warning all the creepers not to do that.


This is all a lie of course and even while I am still a man, using the Internet like all the other men do.
Cruising website after website, in pursuit of girls.
I find myself making excuses for my gender and their cock-thinking behavior.
I find myself consolidating those girls that keep getting all the unwanted attention.

Am I a pervert?
Am I a sicko? 
Am I any better, since I'm still trying to get into her pants as well?
Although she probably already has a boyfriend...
I wonder how they met?

Probably offline.
I bet he is a nice guy.
Not the Internet definition of a "Nice guy",
Some easily aggravated, skill-less teeny-bopper, who grew up on the words Bitch and Slut.
Who has a twisted world view,
Who feels entitled to her love, for the minimal attention he gave her every day...last week

Do they think I'm like that?
Do I?
I'm not really a "nice guy", but I'm not the kindest person neither.
"Would you be so kind to fuck off", is for when I'm going soft on you.
I try really hard to keep the rage inside.
To keep the noises down. To keep the voices out,
that tell me I am a horrible man, who must do horrible things. Right now!

Let's hope she has a boyfriend,
who will protect her from me.

dinsdag 1 april 2014

Smile and be happy!


Fluffy puppies and pony rides with stay at home fathers.
Catholic school girls and kids who help their mothers.
Sugar canes and cotton candy.
Proper women and guys that dress, oh so dandy.
Tranquility gardens and nature CD's.
Good report cards and educational TV.
Happy smiles on everyones face.
SET IT ALL ABLAZE.

zaterdag 22 maart 2014

Overly Attached Boyfriend

Maybe, I should just strap a bandanna around my forehead like a hippie.
To stop this scratching and let it heal.
Because it's itching on my brain,
is this the way of how I feel?

For there are butterflies in my stomach and I have lost my appetite.
I'm afraid that I'm too clingy,
but it felt like we were tight.
Am I right?

Maybe I'm just paranoid, or preparing for the worst.
When will I learn to fight?
I flee before the final act.
Call for the curtains, over stage fright.

I love you, that I'm sure of.
But I'm too poor to buy new shoes.
Though will that really be an issue.
Are we that loose of a noose.

What is it that ties us together?
Is it deeper than skin deep.
I can't wait to reunite with you.
One more second and I might weep.

I miss you, in all our messages.
it's only been six days, since our last depart.
But living over distances,
is breaking the last pieces of my tattered heart.

dinsdag 11 maart 2014

A world between Internet and reality

We come home, loosen our shackles.
We undo ourselves, of our earthly possessions.
We feel at our best in the nude.
When we warm ourselves in nothing but our own bodies.

crawled behind the screen that is a door, to a highway of information.
we scribble each our own words, in a language that we are proud of.
cry out through a portal, to contact other lost souls.
that is how we found each other.

as we lay under this warm blanket in my room.
we look back at the short period we that we've known each other.
wishing it was longer.
But as we grow tired of our siblings and our old friends, as we outgrow our youth.
We become adults.

We turn off the portal, to this information age.
As We are between the two of us, just fine by ourselves.
Won't you spend another night? I whisper.
As we lay there together, confessing our old sins, lighting another cigarette.

Let's do this again some time!
I promise, it will be grander then before.
As much joy as you have already given.
I'll have a long time to repay.

Let me buy you earthly possessions, to which we shackle ourselves.
As long as we stay together I will protect you from the shackles of the rest of this decaying
world, that is living in the information age.
Why can't more people just find each other?
Find what they were looking for?
Like when you found me?

maandag 10 maart 2014

Alien Voicemail



Miss Cyrus,
we have called to congratulate you
on your brilliant plan.
The Humans never even saw it coming
and it is all thanks to your super bowl concert of 2021.
It was a marvelous idea of Lord Bieber,
to make the broadcast mandatory and viral.
We wouldn't want to repeat that horrible event,
with the egg-head rebellion in 2017.
4 years it took us,
to deplete the intelligence of the humans back to zero,
we have lost a lot of harvest opportunities because of that.

Now miss Cyrus, you can start the operations,
as we've discussed.
Command your army of brainless drones
and tell them to start the orgies.
The transport can start as soon as the clinics are stocked.

You can deduce your payment,
of 500 fetuses per month of off the proceeds
and again Miss Cyrus, 
congratulations on your first planetary domination.

For the glory of our lord Deutronius,
end of transmission.

woensdag 5 maart 2014

Black sludge, drips from the pen, onto the canvas.

Daily words 03.05

paint it black
now darker.
This is a painting with no colors,
only depth.

backs hurt and bottles broken.
Words used like weapons,
but they can't stop the war.
As they fall upon deaf ears.

The cockroaches are the ones who survive the bombs.
They greedily swarm the defecated lands.
But I don't think they give anything back to it.

"So you want to be a writer?
Then what is your cause?"
You don't just climb on top that podium,
just for the applause.

I'm standing on the rooftop, ready to fall.
All my compassion has dried from my tear glands,
I feel like I have no empathy left to give.
I invited the world into my heart,
it stabbed me and stole my wallet.

I'm standing on the rafters, where I give an echoing applause,
to your four words strung together, over the course of a month drinking.
The silence, when I grab the microphone, has my heart sinking.
It might have taken me less then half an hour,
but I'm standing here with a written part of my soul exposed.

Help?!
I'm a social warrior on Tumblr, but nobody takes my causes serious
and my head-mates are telling me, it's because I'm backing the wrong team.
But isn't a starving thin white man more privileged then a fat black woman?

Funny how nobody feels grateful to be alive,
not even if they are born with a golden spoon in their mouth.
Probably because tiffany's parents fed her daughter,
with a spoon made platinum engraved with crystals and because she got the Iphone5,
3 days before me.

Timmy is also an ungrateful whiner, it's not our fault you get bullied over those shoes.
They're worn out and ugly.
Why don't you just ask your alcoholic father for some new ones.
Just make sure you hide his belt and take five steps back, so you can have a running start.

Last time I called you all suckers at the end of my poem and everybody laughed,
at how I dared to call my own mother a Christian whore.
I'm sorry for being so inconsiderate last time,
it won't happen any more.

zaterdag 1 maart 2014

letting go of old ideas at the start of a new month.


I am stagnant water, crumbling under pressure.
I wonder what I'm good at.
I hear they like my poetry.
I see only my failures, no victory's
I want to change my attitude.
I am stagnant water, crumbling under pressure.

I pretend I lead a rich life, richer every day.
I feel the joy in kissing a lover.
I touch her velvet skin and luscious curves.
I cry the blues of a poor fellow, down on his luck.
I am stagnant water, crumbling under pressure.

I understand my shortcomings, yet I am clueless of my virtues.
I say to never promise, promises that I'll surely break.
I dream of answers and stability.
I try to scrape the pieces of my life together.
I hope the force of love will keep me strong.
I am stagnant water, crumbling under pressure.

dinsdag 25 februari 2014

The witch who wanted to play god.



"They come alive." She says, as she strikes the paper with her brush, redefining painting.
Anna has a lot of imagination and her drawings are amazing .
They seem to come alive, when the light hits them in the right way.
She defines new species of creatures, almost every day.
She sits in her room drawing a new world, a new planet, a new earth.
She's fed up with this ugly world, 
it's time for a rebirth.



Close the world, txen eht nepO.

vrijdag 14 februari 2014

connected online / lost in translation

If you do not understand every line in this poem, do not panic...
You will still have understood the message this poem is trying to project.




Are you connected?

Zijn we verbonden?

Can we connect?

Kun je verbinding vinden?

do you understand the words that I project?

Versta je wat ik zeg? kun je je er aan binden?

What is it, that binds these feelings that we have?

Wat kan het toch zijn, dat onze gevoelens verbind?

How do I attach the words to describe, this fixation on our attraction?

Hoe bevestig ik de woorden, die mijn fixatie beschrijft, voor onze aantrekkings kracht?

Can you conferm this unison, this link between us?

Kun je dit bevestigen? Dit verband die wij hebben? Deze relatie tussen ons?

Er is een sterk verband tussen ons.

There is a strong connection between us.

Wij kunnen ons goed met elkaar verbinden.

There is a good connection between us.

Ik versta je luid en duidelijk en kan mij binden aan wat je zegt.

I Read you loud and clear and can bind myself, to what you are trying to express.

Ik kan me koppelen aan de gevoelens die jouw woorden projecteren.

I can attach myself to the feelings, that your words project.

De aantrekkingskracht die ons zo fixeert, heeft geen woorden nodig,
om onze aaneenschakkeling te beschrijven.

The attraction that we are focussing ourselves upon, does not need words,
to describe the link between us.

We kunnen altijd nog de relatie tussen ons bezegellen.

We could always seal up our relationship...

Wacht dacht je van een kus?

Lain has logged out, she has severed the connection, she has sealed up your association.

Lain is uitgelogged, ze heeft de verbinding verbroken, de relatie verzegeld.
 
How about a kiss?
Lain, are you still there?
Are you still there, hello Lain?

vrijdag 31 januari 2014

Erotic business in the church :D

Say priest, what do you think you're doing?:


I feel lost,
Parched and hungry.
While I crash upon the soil and gaze at your stature.
I lose my mind, feel like I'm dreaming.

Feed me with your kisses.
Saturate me with your love juice.
fiery and un-extinguishable,
like a forest fire on a draft.

from the dessert of depression,
did you became my saving grace.
In a expression of passion,
she dangles from my fishing pole.

Two shapes make one new.
A new language, spoken in tongues,
from the squeals that escape us.
Songs of passion, that won't normally get sung in church.

I fold my hands and make a last prayer,
before I blow my load.
Stand up my child, we have been saved.
Now hurry to your confessions, or god will be mad at us.

donderdag 30 januari 2014

Daily words 28.1

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NAnjmvtKRNI
http://youtu.be/NAnjmvtKRNI

Daily words 28.1
poetry
pornography
graffiti decorations, run with roses.
they want to know the answers,
and open up our minds.

My journal,
is void of relationships.
I never say goodbye,
I sneak away in silence.

Chatroom 511
monsters and scars
in the end, it doesn't really matter how hard you try.
Time is worth nothing.
Plays magic tricks with his friends money and love.

She knew who I was.
But never got to know me.
Couldn't even be bothered to,
too busy playing with my heart.

My mind has been misrepresented.
In the wrong organs and the wrong light.
I gave up the fight.

like the moon shining with the light of the sun.
maybe some day I'll be like you too
live on other people's energy.
Now I sit by myself.
You took the best of me, cast a cloud of shadows around me. please go away?

Phantom-326.
I am a number not a name.
I am a bank account not a person.
The memories are like pictures, they remind me of nothing more significant, than the pose that was popular that year.
I don't deserve a brain, Hopsin please take it.

You are mainstream like the hipsters,
I washed up on the shore.
poetry rhymes,
so Christianity made my mom a whore.

Identity is wrong.
Individualist are outcasts.
So when they see the edges,
they crawl back into the barrel.

They are missing out on the party I was giving on the outside.
But I miss the company.
Maybe next time I'll incorporate corporate ideas.

I'm running out of words sucker's, see yah!






...are they gone?
K!
Dj,
play my track...

dinsdag 14 januari 2014

THE WHOLE WORLD IS on facebook/ #FlyAway:

THE WHOLE WORLD IS on facebook/ #FlyAway:

Do you think I am not testing you?
Please think again.
Don't stop thinking, don't you...
DARE!

*I glare*

Why did you stop?
Who told you to?
Who said I was done with you.

I haven't found your button yet...
To restart your brain.
You maybe thought, you had me all figured out.
Well sir,
I call you INSANE.

A first impression is good.
But I bet things have changed,
since you looked away.
I'll give it one more day...
You'll come back to me...
You'll revise your opinion, just wait and see.

Or forever be called a fool.

Don't just BLINDLY drop your thought's, in the thinking pool.
But don't stay silent either.
Even the mute, now holds a pen, in the information age.
But only the brain dead,
writes more than one page...No, book
per day.

I wonder what they say...
While I CONTEMPLATE, every single word.

Does that sound absurd?
Well I'm a poet sir,
what did you expect.

Intelligence is dying fast, should I...
give in and neglect,
the gaping flesh...
Staring at me, while the wound is fresh.

NEEDS medical attention.

Your brain was send to detention,
but your oppressor did not drop your faces in a book.
No the proffesor presents you with a timeline
on facebook.

I know I used this word as just a hook.

I'm sorry Virge I borrowed your style,
I hope you can lend it to me for a while.

But when I've got so much to say,
must I tweet them down.
Or let them #FlyAway

woensdag 1 januari 2014

Happy New Year.

New Years Eve was like a fun couch-surfing party to me.
I met up with some nice people over Facebook, who I actually only vaguely knew.
I wrote some mad poetry, watched some gaming videos, smoked a few joints and shared my rum with the rest of the guests.
We got served some flaming hot and spicy macaroni and some traditional Dutch new years food.

My poems are collectively called "the guests at the party".
They are fictional stories, inspired by the evening, but grossly exaggerated.
There are four in total, each with their own individual title as well.




#1
Blame the Cat:

I am Cat Lady, living online.
I wonder if his friends will come over tonight as well.
I hear the drunken chatter and some fireworks in the background.
I see someone tripping balls on my couch.
"I want to meet you too", she typed on the dating chat, it earns 15 cents for every line I get back.
I am Cat Lady, living online.

I pretend that he says all the same sweet things that they do.
I feel like I do all the work around the house.
I touch the world through a Wifi window.
I cry when I think of where the baby has to grow up.
I am Cat Lady living online.

I understand the learning channel has a new series about celebrities.
I say something dirty and everybody jumps right on top of it.
I dream of living in a much bigger house next years new years eve.
I try not to inhale the smoke from the weed that is getting passed around here.
I hope neighbors don't shoot one of those firework bombs through our window.
I am Cat Lady, living online.

#2
Just as crazy without me:

I am LOLing the net, avoiding all the madness.
I wonder what time it is.
I hear nothing over my headset.
I see the flashes of the festive warfare outside my game room window.
I want to improve my type reflexes.
I am LOLing the net, avoiding all the madness.

I pretend new year isn't as important as improving one more level.
I feel a light cramp in my clicking hand, it isn't bleeding yet.
I touch the near to live game-play.
I cry, when the midnight toast, breaks me away from my game.
I am LOLing the net, avoiding all the madness.

I understand the algorithms.
I say am trolling everybody and I cook up some mad spice.
I dream of making more ingame money, but the bills are stacking up.
I try to beat the highest ranking, I know I have the strength.
I hope the Cat doesn't jump up on my keyboard.
I am LOLing the net, avoiding the madness.

#3
Alien in the city:

I am the comedian who stays silent.
I wonder when the people on the TV will do something funny.
I hear barely any fireworks over the laughter.
I see highbrow comedy, in the world all around me.
I want to understand why the same joke is funny every time.
I am the comedian who stays silent.

I pretend I'll have something to add to the conversation later.
I feel that almost anything will make them laugh.
I touch the same funny drugs, but they don't let me say something witty.
I cry because the next generation is an even dumber monster.
I am the comedian who stays silent.

I understand little off what these strangers say.
I say one line, but it goes unheard.
I dream of mating with their woman, am I trying to preserve my species.
I hope that Cat stops doing these funny things, that end up on the Internet.
I am the comedian who stays silent.

#4
Pompous Prick:

I am a walking wallet, with a tie and a suit.
I wonder if I laugh hard enough when the laugh-track plays.
I hear simple questions, but I'm the only one who answers.
I see crime in black-face on the television, another normal holiday.
I want another drink, there is a toast at midnight.
I am a walking wallet, with a tie and a suit.

I pretend I have class and style.
I feel a tingling in my brain, I pick up on things "so fast".
I touch the Cat when I try to flick the ash of the joint. "That was an accident!"
I cry because I can't actually read anything without my glasses.
I am a walking wallet, with a tie and a suit.

I understand what is so funny about this comedy show. Don't I?
I say that I miss my old car, it was so much bigger and made more noise.
I dream of climbing the ranks and shooting zombies.
I try not to think about it, but everyone around me is so stupid.
I hope god forgives me in the new year, it is about time he did.
I am a walking wallet, with a tie and a suit.



Mood: Feeling witty and ironic!
Music: Look Who's Laughing Now - Be My Enemy