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politics

Structural Integrity at Zero

With logic tossed out the window and reasoning a thing of the past, the outrage culture takes center stage in our media run society. This is a short ranty poem on the subject.

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Guilty conscious ringing off alarms in the darkness. It’s haunting
Daunting the shifty nonsense. Swinging pendulums lost in the crossroads
Demon deals hidden by the cornfields. The chase of success is too real
Flaunting the wrong things ‘till the swan sings
It’s been too long since cashing that check from reality. It’s caustic
A cost that won’t stick. Caused by old tricks. Stone moss that grows thick
Structural failure, neglect, the behavior
Rejected by the savior, reasoning. Calculating to slave work
Seasoning the flavor of…

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Sliding Slime

The forces of nature depict monsters and strangers
Causes of imminent danger
Blame hurts but disdain burns greater
Like inflamed coal burning black smoke
Up the ass and passed the damn throat
Never mind the trash talk
Air-head, the inflated savior
The last hope
Grave digger
This white nigger who stands on stacks to feel bigger
Triggered when seen fire beneath his feet
Thinking seas
The ship with Lincoln and King Luther sinking, bleak
Tired and unwilling to admire this old cynical liar
Truth hurts so he won’t try it
Clever illusions help with denial
Severed connections avoiding trials
Endeavor rejected…

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Welcome Illusions

No caged child if no bells are rung
No bloody skirts without sirens
Listening to learn faith
To feel safe
There’s no violence
The blue bird has spoken
Indulge to forget
Let the lines blur
It’s how to lie to shadows
Angry at the food stains
With nostalgia for nice words
of “wisdom” and “knowledge”
Because no feelings would get hurt
Looking away from exploding skies
At words, “one upon a time”
The new stories are scary
Time to worry
Judging the narration
When the subtext is identical
Creepy vocabulary
Forced from the haven of familiarity
Can’t sleep thinking the wolves are coming
Picture boxes, heroine
Goodish vibes
Willing to please if allowed to smile
Gladly show up for dinner
Clean the plate
Say the food was great
As if the hook wasn’t the point
When tears scream “fact”
The solidity of steel is questioned

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I'm Not Rapper

Rap

Lyrics by Jack Thomas

The world is in a perpetual state of chaos.
Let it get to you and get nothing done.
Learn to accept the universe is uncontrollable
And it’ll be under you’re control

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Hopeless, smoked chest, cough, toke, rest

Broke bloke, vest, glock, coke, meth

Dope bag, hot block, do-rag, crack rocks, hot spot, clock in, crackhead smack talk
Bake in the sun, sirens, scared of bacon chasing gun violence
Gotta run, hide things, no more fun, five years isn’t worth a try, fear, let it keep driving

Steer, the blazing bush speaks ideas, smoke and mirrors, head kushined in clouds, reeks, the voice bleak, speaks loud, clear,
“Make your move now or lose out. No boohoos allowed. No tears.
Stand out. Choose what goes down. Don’t be held bound, be hell-bound.”
Clip in the hand, ticking trigger finger, mad, at the nigger killer, sad, and little bitter

But the pigment, though a figment, like a brand creates fictions in the minds of indignants. Like a clan they’re persistent

Back around, ready, seeing red, eyes steady
Thought tough, slipped up, tripped, shit bluff
Not quick enough, not slick, fucked up, tough luck
In a daze trapped in a haze, crazed laughs, let it phase to the brain
Blast him away
Regret settling before meddling, ring the bell to raise the devil, win in a fit of rage, strange compelling crave to misbehave
The end is just a blink away, need to hide and…

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Blind Allegiance

Jack updates us on his current political standing.

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The long line grows. Followers chosen by God herself. To enslave the children. To fight the dark forces. Hostages for a better world. When white robed phantoms spread their word from beyond the grave.
And they begin. “Where is my…” with air quotes, “Money?”

Revive the fallen. Destroying and eradicating the dark forces. Blue suited shiny badges of honor with guns pressed against the backs of the perceived enemy. A strike by the rebellion unable to regain the dwindled numbers of the “home team” reaching to even the odds by reducing the “away.”

Shackles and iron bars for the shades not aligned with the morally gray stars on the flag. Red bloods of white skin on the blue ball owned by green presidents.

Trumpets play as the blue birds chirp overhead. The distraction for those chewing gum silent masturbating to gun violence.

Oh dear, how the toppling towers teeter. No use crying over spilled oil. The dividers keep the…

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Institutionalized

Circumstantial imprisonment happens quite often. Justice is a fiction told to people desperate for a fantasy to believe in. Put the animal in a cage long enough and watch it respond to its environment.

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The interrogator with the evidence, the reports, the witnesses and the accusations is always the last to know the truth. Left with only assumptions.

The suspect without any of the evidence, any report or witness enters knowing he’s innocent from the start. A fact memory serves well.

Yet, six months training, a badge and a gun convince the interrogator his intuition is more valid than personal experience.

Biased jurors, law bound judges, money hungry attorneys with cleverly worded questions and a year worth of court visits turn a man into a monster.

Ten years in a cage with murderers and thieves corrupts even the purest of saints.
When the bars are pulled away and the sunlight is remembered awareness settles.
It was safer in the box.

In the outside world the word of truth goes ignored.

Preconceptions get twisted and morphed.

Friends and family who knew more kept silent.

Fear.

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We'll Never Admit

A political lyrics examination of history repeating itself and the denial that we are the reason and cause.

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Classic tragedy
He, the bastard be
Disaster piece
In fact, lets see
What the ratchet snatched with bad habits
Lasting past due dates and black magic
Bewitched, that son of a bitch has us
He laughs at us from atop his tall towers
The flaming bush sees planes
But they can’t trump the winner of this game
This nigga is insane joking with lives in such ways
Refrains us from saying shit out of fear it’ll be our turn if we play
It’s not the way that it should be
But this world runs as a fantasy
The one he imagines it to be
Put a crown on 45
He’s won as it seems
As long as we don’t act
These words remain fact
Remain intact during his everlasting attack on our values and past
Erasing what we have just to grow his fucking stack
Chasing bitches to grab by the pussy
And we bitch, but we also laugh
We’re half the problem as to why he’s where he’s at
But we’ll never admit to that
We’ll never admit to that

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Meanwhile...

A thought on the madness of American’s on 6/22/18

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We murder and enslave over who’s dirt is who’s, then fear crossing imaginary lines.
Yet, we allow the children to starve and the sick to die having all the resources.
We cast blame on each other and deceive one another, then struggle to trust anyone’s word.
Yet, we riot for truth and shun those who don’t lie so well.
We refuse to acknowledge when we don’t, and rather ruin things than confess.
Yet, we hold guns, make mistakes and send each other into cages knowing we weren’t ready.

 

Meanwhile…
They rob us and the bombs fall.

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The Great Subtraction

Kids in cages.
A Poem.

45 is smaller than 0.

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I’m going to flip the shit if they crack another motherfucking whip
Can’t handle it when I can’t spit
Rambling blazed for days
Holding a fucking clip
Shit stays the same way
It’s making me sick
Staring down barrels drunk
Like we’re outta luck
In stasis sterile faces that won’t quit
Cages mistake small kids
Taken away
They can’t be seen
It seems history repeats it’s scenes
Screams don’t stop the suit’s schemes
We should be ashamed
Turn the cheek and sneak away
Cell phone in hand
Selfies behind screens
Eyes on ‘em like laser beams
Hit record on that cam
Life the video game
It’s our mask while we hide in the dark
We’re Batman
All going insane
Yelling the same phrases night and day
No response
It’s like that
No one listens and things don’t change
Deranged, we keep playing the same way
Won’t fight back
Maybe someone brave will stand and save the day
But every time we call the hero someone ends up shot
It’ll happen until we’re down to zero
The Great Subtraction in action
This extinction event is meant so we can’t repent
When the end comes through
The end meant for those that won’t do
What they want us to do
The way they want us to
That’s just for me and you

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