What is it that makes you sick
Just what do you revile
Why is that you feel this way
It the stench is it the pile
Where do you find your respite
If for even just a while
How do you face your own mess
When you own it with a smile
Who is it that you’re kidding
Confused delusion is futile
Perhaps it’s time
Disgust’s discussed
Poison to one
Ain’t poison to all
Maybe it’s time
The unjust just adjust
Perverse amusements
Tend to appall
Natural pleasures sinful
Unnatural acts divine
Brutality a windfall
Aggression we enshrine
Disgust discussed dispensed
To those we so consign
To the wrong end of our rancor
On the wrong end of the line
Perhaps it’s time
Disgust’s discussed
Poison to one
Ain’t poison to all
Maybe it’s time
The unjust just adjust
Perverse amusements
Tend to the fall
Fatty skinny shorty giant
Dealer squealer feeler client
Helpless helpful self reliant
Strong will weak will be compliant
Poopy pants disgust
Everything must shit
Too much exposed bust
Each mammal has a tit
Genitalia bussed
Don’t you love your clit
Effective penis thrust
Pops off like a zit
Too tight to adjust
Lubricate with spit
Bio functions must
Intake as they emit
Nipples are offensive
Warfare just policy
Lionized in slaughter
What is vulgarity
Naked in aggression
The bullet sets you free
Live the paradigm
Embracing enmity
Die by lie, why deny
You’re just as dead you see
Perhaps it’s time
Disgust’s discussed
Poison to one
Ain’t poison to all
Maybe it’s time
The unjust just adjust
Perverse amusements
Bend to the fall
Stand on the wreck
Counting your cash
All hands on deck
Down with a splash
Hand out bad check
Tout market crash
Expanding dreck
Avoiding trash
Live in palatial squalor
Surrounded by the ruins you have made
In your coat and collar
Buffed up to conceal your inside decayed
Fiefdom of the dollar
Professions to keep everyone afraid
Disgusted by skin color
But not by the ignorance you’ve displayed
Repulsed by everything
Feeding on the wretches whom you’ve preyed
Revolting revolution
Injustice never denied or delayed
Insulting revolution
Injustice is never denied or delayed
Perhaps it’s time
Disgust’s discussed
Poison to one
Ain’t poison to all
Maybe it’s time
The unjust just adjust
Perverse amusements
End in the fall
.. ..
.. ..
.. ..
.. ..
© 2009 simmbiosis
simmbiosis
Posts
All Comments
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Does Tinnitus Ring a Bell?
This ringing, it’s ringing and ringing
And ringing and ringing and ringing
It’s ringing and ringing
And ringing and ringing
This ringing it’s ringing – fucking noisy
I am a child of the city, a boy of the town, an adolescent of the country and perhaps a man of the world. Spun around on it enough to possess a marginal understanding of its process: it appears to twirl on its axis while revolving around a star (Sol) which spins around a huge hole in the middle of the galaxy. And the galaxy hurls through space with billions of like minded spinning things. In space, everything spins.
On Earth, everything rings. Are you gonna get that?
Allow me to explain…
By 8 years old I moved from the city (LBC boyee) to the town (Santa Rosa – Saint Rose, sounds like a wine). From the town my pater acquired land and on that land I had my first exposure to REALLY FUCKING LOUD noises in the form of gun fire. Started off with the fairly mild explosions of the 22 caliber long rifle and grew to shotguns and high powered rifles. Very loud, very ominous, very dangerous.
When you’re a kid, none of the things that torture you in later life exist. Part of being a kid is causing those things which torture you in later life. Like firing really FUCKING LOUD guns without ear protection. Really stupid. But when you’re a kid, if fortune smiles upon you, you can survive really stupid choices. If fortune frowns upon you, you still have the auditory impact, but people who for some reason don’t favor you are the ones firing the guns – and things louder still.
By teenage, I had progressed to handguns and rock and roll. Both REALLY FUCKING LOUD. Little compares to the sensation of standing in front of a stack of stage monitors, massive speakers with woofers you could live in and tweeters to scare the birds from the sky. At that distance you feel the music as much as hear it. And you REALLY hear it.
The delusion of youth creates a certain sense among the privileged of invincibility. I suspect part of that comes from being so spoiled that your perplexing life has so little meaning that your unsuccessful efforts to end it convince you you’ll be around forever. Part of that comes, I suppose, from the sense that you’ve already been around longer than you want.
In retrospect, a fairly disgusting perspective, especially with the subsequent understanding of the travails others not so blessed endure to maintain the shittiest of lives. We pay in our age for the arrogance of our youth.
It won’t give up, it wants me dead, God damn this noise inside my head…
“The Becoming” – Nine Inch Nails
So, I’ve got this, thing. It lives in my head, not so much my ears, but they’re what I grab when it gets so loud I think my head will explode. But it’s up inside there, like a walkie-talkie set on squelch, an electronicy, bacon cookingy, grindy kind of sound that seems to increase each day as the outside sounds go farther and farther away. It’s really quite maddening, sometimes excruciating. On occasion I cry like a little bitch.
This sound, this noise, then elicits external noise, offering solutions, tinctures and unguents and magical potions to alleviate it. Try zinc, cut out caffeine, drink, don’t drink, smoke, don’t smoke, hold your head under the sink. Certainly one of my favorites – mask the horrid drone with an external horrid drone. Double the drone, embrace white noise, mask everything in the hell of my head.
I play in these solutions: I cut out, I increase, I mask, I bury. I hide. But there’s no place to hide in your head, no safe shelter from your brain. No relief from the constant refrain, no silence for sonic pain.
At times it seems that one of the possible causes of this self imposed perpetual scream (gunfire) could be its only solution. But if such a place as Hell exists (externally) I already know what my eternity will sound like. So, as so many others, in much worse pain, I abide. I can still hear other stuff. I guess that’s enough.
Will somebody answer that?
s
And ringing and ringing and ringing
It’s ringing and ringing
And ringing and ringing
This ringing it’s ringing – fucking noisy
I am a child of the city, a boy of the town, an adolescent of the country and perhaps a man of the world. Spun around on it enough to possess a marginal understanding of its process: it appears to twirl on its axis while revolving around a star (Sol) which spins around a huge hole in the middle of the galaxy. And the galaxy hurls through space with billions of like minded spinning things. In space, everything spins.
On Earth, everything rings. Are you gonna get that?
Allow me to explain…
By 8 years old I moved from the city (LBC boyee) to the town (Santa Rosa – Saint Rose, sounds like a wine). From the town my pater acquired land and on that land I had my first exposure to REALLY FUCKING LOUD noises in the form of gun fire. Started off with the fairly mild explosions of the 22 caliber long rifle and grew to shotguns and high powered rifles. Very loud, very ominous, very dangerous.
When you’re a kid, none of the things that torture you in later life exist. Part of being a kid is causing those things which torture you in later life. Like firing really FUCKING LOUD guns without ear protection. Really stupid. But when you’re a kid, if fortune smiles upon you, you can survive really stupid choices. If fortune frowns upon you, you still have the auditory impact, but people who for some reason don’t favor you are the ones firing the guns – and things louder still.
By teenage, I had progressed to handguns and rock and roll. Both REALLY FUCKING LOUD. Little compares to the sensation of standing in front of a stack of stage monitors, massive speakers with woofers you could live in and tweeters to scare the birds from the sky. At that distance you feel the music as much as hear it. And you REALLY hear it.
The delusion of youth creates a certain sense among the privileged of invincibility. I suspect part of that comes from being so spoiled that your perplexing life has so little meaning that your unsuccessful efforts to end it convince you you’ll be around forever. Part of that comes, I suppose, from the sense that you’ve already been around longer than you want.
In retrospect, a fairly disgusting perspective, especially with the subsequent understanding of the travails others not so blessed endure to maintain the shittiest of lives. We pay in our age for the arrogance of our youth.
It won’t give up, it wants me dead, God damn this noise inside my head…
“The Becoming” – Nine Inch Nails
So, I’ve got this, thing. It lives in my head, not so much my ears, but they’re what I grab when it gets so loud I think my head will explode. But it’s up inside there, like a walkie-talkie set on squelch, an electronicy, bacon cookingy, grindy kind of sound that seems to increase each day as the outside sounds go farther and farther away. It’s really quite maddening, sometimes excruciating. On occasion I cry like a little bitch.
This sound, this noise, then elicits external noise, offering solutions, tinctures and unguents and magical potions to alleviate it. Try zinc, cut out caffeine, drink, don’t drink, smoke, don’t smoke, hold your head under the sink. Certainly one of my favorites – mask the horrid drone with an external horrid drone. Double the drone, embrace white noise, mask everything in the hell of my head.
I play in these solutions: I cut out, I increase, I mask, I bury. I hide. But there’s no place to hide in your head, no safe shelter from your brain. No relief from the constant refrain, no silence for sonic pain.
At times it seems that one of the possible causes of this self imposed perpetual scream (gunfire) could be its only solution. But if such a place as Hell exists (externally) I already know what my eternity will sound like. So, as so many others, in much worse pain, I abide. I can still hear other stuff. I guess that’s enough.
Will somebody answer that?
s
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Well? Come to Lime Ricky.
Employing standard rhyming form
Create paradigm outside the norm
A fun simple way
To make what you say
Entertain, intrigue and inform
Create paradigm outside the norm
A fun simple way
To make what you say
Entertain, intrigue and inform
Some find puerile, some pooh pooh
This limerick thing that we do
Before you decry it
You might wanna try it
Cause we’d sure like to see some from you
.. ..
Join this endeavor if you would
As long as one thing’s understood
Don’t have to be cute
Or a fucking hoot
Just as long as the bastards are good
.. ..
.. ..
A grand time is had, this is true
Per verse busy tongues, me and you
What goes in what comes out
And off we do spout
It's not just with words that we screw
"Do not feed the bears" read the sign
At some German zoo near the ..Rhine..
An illiterate hog
Plunged into their bog
Upon her fat ass they did dine
.. ..
a bitch who overlooked the town pub....
approached a few bears for some grub....
they gave her a clawing....
and a little light pawing....
for acting like a wannabe cub....
.. ..
The crazy broad's head spun dizzily
Synapses all popped and fizzily
Snack for a bear
Who just didn't care
For a meal he knew would be grizzly
.. ..
cute, cuddly bears of the polar,....
one dumbest woman under solar....
get together for lunch ....
where she can't feel the crunch ....
of her fat ass caught in their molar....
.. ..
.. ..
So born so incredibly bare
Now a bear with lily white hair
Too close to the border
Buy polar disorder
Aphrodisiacs won't be found there
here's a rhyme to tell what i ate:....
'nuff pasta to fill a large plate!....
now very full....
my mind's in a lull....
and belly is mildly sedate.....
.. ..
.. ..
a lim'rick before i retire--....
the poet in me you inspire--....
okay, enough said!....
i'm going to bed....
lest i end in a rhyming quagmire.
tonight i made a grilled cheese....
but the end left me displeased....
you'd think i'd've learnt....
to not make it burnt....
and tasting like i had sneezed....
.. ..
Grilled cheese is usually hot
Excepting the grilling or not
I see no disaster
Little Schnozzblaster
It's either grilled cheese or it snot....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
