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