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The Treachery of Modernity

This is
Not a
Poem

Great master
Of investigations and deductions,
Robert always knows the score.
Even those who can push his buttons know
Nothing gets past the great detective.

Mooby, how come you haven't posted in here in so long? We need more poetry.

I've been posting them on another forum that's been down for a few days now. If it gets back up I'll try to remember to cross post them here.

Well, here they are, cross-posted in all their horrid glory. "PTW" and "Ricky" are references to users from another site.

---

Just when I think it's over
Every one comes to me
Saying I can't run to the store
Under the umbrella tree
Say it isn't so

Lucifer has pink slippers
Ovaries are his favorite
v****a clouds blowing
Everywhere
Satan makes strange bedfellows

Yell to the world
Over the hills and you'll see
Under the umbrella tree

---

The Citizen

I am the ghost that watches over night.
During the day I lead the lambs astray,
Thriving on all the worries and the fright
Of those who want to live another day.

I blend amongst the crowd of human sheep,
Innocent victims of an evil beast
Killing them from within. I watch them weep
With pleasure as I eat my mighty feast.

Alas! But I am not completely safe
From recourse. For you see that there is one
Who has the power to single out the waif
And put an end to my mischievous fun.

But wait! I've found The One and slain her dead!
Their hope is gone. A new terror is bred.

---

Ponies.
In the meadow.
One goes away
Looking for the pasture of great
Fertility. Pills make many more
Of the others
Want to follow for he says
"Behold! I see the light! We do not have to
Be afraid of death
Anymore!"
And they all listened. Well,
Most did. "Trot off to the hills
Where you will find bliss
With us!" said those who left to those who stayed.
"Neigh," they replied. The others sneered at the
Fools staying in the barren wasteland.
Two came back
Limping from the savage beating
They endured at the hands of the others.
They rested in the old meadow growing anew, pining
For the day they could return to their new home:
The desert.

---

NO MORE, NO LESS

CLINK! CLONK! CLINK! CLONK!
The pitter-patter of its feet on the ground
Brings joy to your heart. Your baby
Has finally matured. Withdrawn
From the world, it leaves its
Owner's hands to return home
To you. Its master gleefully sends
It on its way, hastening its journey without
A second thought. Most never even see
Your babies anymore. But neither do you.
Still, you wait with keen interest until
They return home, even if you
Never see them at all. You are
A true hero, letting those without raise
Your young. It means everything to
The master. And when it returns,
You revel at how much it has grown.
Even if it is now silent.

CLINK! CLOINK! CLINK! CLOINK!
It is leaving you now, thinning out
Among the world you own. Some work outside
To put a roof over your head. Some nest in the hands
Of those who fed them. Most, however, are
Born again to life under a new master
Where they will mature and one day return
Mostly silentl
Unless they are lost.

CLINK! CLONIK! CLINK! CLONIK!
Your baby has had a fulfilling life
Serving many masters. It has seen
The highest highs
The lowest lows
Fame
Drugs
Despair
Torment
Care
Thoughtlessness.
Its soul has been cleansed time and again
Now the last bit of evil begins to fade.
It is time to send it on its final journey
To the great pyre. You see it off without
Blinking. It is the child of old, of no good use.
New, fresh children are the ones
Who rule the world. The elders decay slowly
And die unless preserved by the sands of time.
But you don't preserve. You destroy. The elders
Are flaccid. Weak. Dull. Smelly.
Besides, they made the mistake.
A mistake of existence. The best babies are
The ones who never existed at all.

---

Last Day

The doctor saved me
A few nights ago. He departed
Soon after. I find myself lying here
All alone
Facing the grave decision
Before me. There was nothing
In my life to foreshadow
This horrid fate. I cry

As I deliberate
Good vs. evil, life vs. death. Which
Is the right one? An illusion of truth
Is emanating out from both parties. Whom
Do I trust? Either
Could be telling the truth. Both guarantee me
Happiness. Happiness. Happiness.
What the ******** is happiness, anyways? Is it
What either of these two offer? Why
Should I listen to either
Of them? I ask for evidence
But do not receive it. Instead they both
Say the same thing. I can overcome
This horrid fate. I try

To make the right decision. Is failure
An option? NO! They both claim to be
Right. I can only choose one. Look inside
My heart.
Eternal bliss?
Eternal torture?
Eternal nothing?
The last is irrelevant. The first is a goal. The middle runs my ******** it. The last thing I want to do
As time runs out is play guessing games. I will accept
This horrid fate. I die.

---

Gougeon's Egg

To the backwards from the forwards which I go
To the mountains which traverse from sea to sea
To the darkness and the light of which I know
Without that which I've lost I'm never free.

From the clear under but not behind the sharp
From the haze which clouds my mind but not my heart
From the synthesizer and from Dagda's harp
The music in me never wants to start.

On the manual a tear dries wet away
On the pages of my book it all makes sense
On the calender tomorrow is today
A match to light the stove or burn incense?

Off the love from hate to lust from fear to joy
Off the twenty-seven eighteen twenty-eights
Off the sharply blurred line between girl and boy
Bombard my mind at even greater rates.

How the fairies eat the troll who ******** the nymph
Why the sun rises in day and sets in night
Where the miasm rots my blood and drains my lymph
What is truth? Perhaps it isn't quite what we'd expect.

---

The Lyrics of the Young

My ax swings through the air
As I chop at the fir.
I push away John Moir.

He falls into the bushes.
The tree falls down. He breathes
A sigh of relief as it misses

Him barely. Then one of the branches
Lands on him and he dies.
His sister takes off her shades

Starts screaming his name.
But he doesn't come back to life
So she freaks out and starts drinking wine.

She puts a rope around her neck and ties it taut
To a branch. Chugs her wine and punches her gut.
I try to stop her, but she passes out.

I can't get the rope off her neck.
I watch her eyes roll back and her head rock
In utter horror. Now she's hanging like a sack.

So I get down on my knees and write this ode
To my two best friends. There is only one more choice to be made.
I pick up my ax, and commit suicide.

---

The Traveler's Destination in This World from That Which Never Was

I am a beacon of light
That shines over darkness.
A wave of truth
To wash away ignorance.
Trust in me
And you will see
Eternity.

I am the right
That rights the wrongs
Which hurt the right
The right who's me.

I am the source
Of what you know
For what I know
You cannot see.

How dare you challenge
My superior intellect?
Why waste my time
With trifles of thought?
I have better things to do, it's true
Than waste my time on you, so do
The world a favor, and rot in hell.

You'll never learn to walk like me
To talk like me
To think like me.
You'll never learn to see like me
To be like me, so free.

So what good are you
To this sorry little world?
You think you've solved a problem?
You're the cause of so much more.

Now I'm the one the look to
For solutions, 'cause I have 'em.
So you'd better learn to keep your place
Before I rearrange your face!

A whirlwind of emotion
A downpour of desire
A torrent of my anger
Makes you the target of my ire.

I'll show you what it means to think
You can dare to challenge me.
I'll tear you limb from limb and then
I'll throw your ashes to the sea.

Don't you get it yet, you retard?
I am nothing but the best!
I'm better than you!
In everything that you do!
You can never compete!
Never catch up!
Never be right!

UNLESS

You change your shameful ways.
And learn that you are in the wrong.
Make your penance here and now.
See what you've been missing all along.

Then you will realize
You have important work to do
As a soldier of the right
And a defender of the true.

You are a beacon of light
That shines over darkness.
A wave of truth
To wash away ignorance.
Trust in ye
And they will see
Eternity.

---

PTW

Your poetry is rather lush,
I suspect you have a crush.
But, my dear, don't you rush
To let your words begin to gush.

The gap between us, of time and space,
Is a limitation you will have to face.
These words of yours, they have a place
When we are gone without a trace.

--

The Future

It looms in the distance.
Far off in a haze, barely perceptible.
It worries me, yes. But not much.
I have plenty of time.

Closer still.
Closing in on my fragile life.
I am rushing now, beginning to sweat
As I try to get everything done.
There's still time.

It's almost here.
Rearing its ugly face at my head.
I haven't accomplished much.
Oh, how I wish I'd done more!
Can I still finish?
There's not enough time.

It's here, now.
Rushing upon me one second at a time.
I cannot escape.
My work is left unfinished. I should have started sooner.
If only I'd had more time.

---

Questions

Who are you?
It is I.
From whence do you hail?
I hail from here, she from there.
How do you know each other?
Friendship knows no bounds.

Why are you here?
I came to visit.
Why did you visit?
I wanted to see.
You came all this way just to see?
It wasn't that far.

Where will you go?
Back to my home.
How are you identified?
I do not know.
Why don't you know?
I do not know all.

What did you bring there?
Just myself and my desire.
With what do you return?
Nothing of value.
What things?
Mere trinkets of my visit.

Will you return?
Perhaps. Perhaps not.
What did you hope to find?
Whatever there was to find.
What did you find?
Nothing more than I expected.

Go.

---

Deep a**l

Did she consent? This is sexual harassment.
Abandonment as well? Swell.
Why should we take your word for it? Bullshit!
Mindless belief is always wrong.
Preposterously silly.
Imaginary, inanimate things cannot fly.
Illusion created by rotation.
Visions are not empirically verifiable.
This makes no sense.
A sweeping generalization with no basis.
Where's your evidence? Occam's Razor.

Sound waves traveling through medium,
Beaches do not feel torment!
Flexor digitorum superficialis,
Rocks weathered by water--
Pick up more next time. Amount is relative.
Loss of muscle strength, requires testing,
Tear ducts patent, reflex triggered.
Imaginary being is not making you weak.
Strengthen thy muscles.
Imaginary being does not make sticky hands.
Water has no emotion. It is all mechanics.
A sweeping generalization with no basis.
Where's your evidence? Occam's Razor.

This poem does not cite sources.

---

The Ballad of the Cow: or, A Modern Hero for the Fate of the World

(INTRO)

He is a cow, you see,
His name is Moo-oo-by,
With sexy horns and tail,
A hero that we hail!

MOO MOO!
MOO MOO!
MOO MOO!
M-MOO MOO!

MOO MOO! He is a bovine!
MOO MOO! Without a future!
MOO MOO! Without any past!

MOO MOO! He's come to save you
MOO MOO! From the trials that plague you.
MOO MOO! They will not last!

MOO MOO! For he will guide you,
MOO MOO! Show you the doorway,
MOO MOO! Help you get away!

MOO MOO! He is the cow who
MOO MOO! Will always come through
MOO MOO! And will save the day!

He's saving the day,
Saving the day!
Saving the day,
He's saving the day!

MOO MOO! When you get in trouble,
MOO MOO! With no solution,
MOO MOO! Just call out his name.

MOO MOO! He'll say "Don't you worry,"
MOO MOO! "It's not so bad now,"
MOO MOO! "You just lost the game!"

MOO MOO! "But that's ok, cause,"
MOO MOO! "I just lost too,"
MOO MOO! "And so did RQ..."

MOO MOO! "So make her big head,"
MOO MOO! "Lose every day and,"
MOO MOO! "Your dreams will come true!"

"Your dreams will come true,
They're all coming true!
They're all coming true,
Your dreams will come true true true true true true true true true!

"I am The Cow, you see.
It is my destiny.
To set my people free.
To reach eternity!"

Racing through the world on a cosmic surfboard
Don't go! Don't go!
Tearing through your mind like a giant condor
Don't know! Don't know!

Reaching through the depths just looking for answers,
Searching for new life, but plagued with a cancer.
Racing against time, not ever engaging,
The things we find in life that actually make aging

Worth giving up the youth we shamefully came from.
Hours spent trapped in the deaths of the doldrums!
So don't let us go back, to those days of before,
And don't let us go forward, of you we implore!

Keep us here!
Keep us here, keep us here!
Please! Just keep us here!
Please, keep us here! Please!
No past or future!

(INSTRUMENTAL)

Without a past, you see,
No future to foresee,
Just in the here and now,
Our savior is a cow!

He is a cow, you see,
His name is Moo-oo-by,
With sexy horns and tail,
A hero that we hail!

MOO MOO!
MOO MOO!
MOO MOO!
MOO MOO!
MOO MOO!
MOO MOO!

---

Rape Crisis

Ever stopped at a traffic light?
Ever used a turn signal?
Congratulations, you've been raped.

Ever been tempted to steal something but didn't?
Ever been tempted to assault someone but didn't?
Congratulations, you've been raped.

Ever filed your taxes?
Ever paid a bill on-time?
Congratulations, you've been raped.

Ever listened to your boss when you didn't want to?
Ever apologized for being late for work?
Congratulations, you've been raped.

Ever had a car registered and insured?
Ever applied for a driver's license?
Congratulations, you've been raped.

Ever waited politely in line?
Ever moved out of somebody's way?
Congratulations, you've been raped.

Ever been guilt-tripped into recycling?
Ever done something you didn't want to stop someone from crying?
Congratulations, you've been raped.

Ever followed a religious rule?
Ever bowed down before a deity?
Congratulations, you've been raped.

Your balls, please.

---

New Age Moose

MOO!

He's got two antlers.
Tell us what they're like!
They're ******** big antlers!
Bigger than a pike?
They measure 40 inches.
That's a lot of mass...
With 7 points on each side.
Don't stick that up your a**!
Oh he wanders 'round the fields in a continuous daze,
Striking fear into the hearts of anyone who meets his gaze!

RICKYMOOOOOOO!
He's a Capreolinae! Rickymoo, rickymoo, rickymoo.
RICKYMOO will tear up all those who get in his way! Rickymoo, rickymoo, rickymoo.
Oh he reins the fields, and stays away from zoos,
Don't piss much but he sure loves to poo!

MOO

Oh he's got a fancy coat.
Now how does that smell?
Slightly better than a goat.
Now I don't feel well.
But it's sexier than all others.
I don't know, I don't know...
Why not get a wash or two?

He's a rocking and a rolling, he's the master of the sin,
Love him or hate him, he's still the best that's ever been!


RICKYMOOOOOOO!
He's a Capreolinae! Rickymoo, rickymoo, rickymoo.
RICKYMOO will tear up all those who get in his way! Rickymoo, rickymoo, rickymoo.
Oh he reins the fields, and stays away from zoos,
Don't piss much but he sure loves to poo!

MOO!

Rickymoo, don't ever quit, put up with s**t, or stop being you!
Rickymoo, I know it's true, you're simply the best!

MOO!

*Cowtar solo*

RICKYMOOOOOOO!
He's a Capreolinae! Rickymoo, rickymoo, rickymoo.
RICKYMOO will tear up all those who get in his way! Rickymoo, rickymoo, rickymoo.
RICKYMOOOOOOO!
Makes my heart beat faster.
Rickymoo is the undisputed poetry master!
Rickymoo! Rickymoo, rickymoo, rickymoo!
Ah, rickymoo! Rickymoo, rickymoo, rickymoo!
Rickymoo! Rickymoo, rickymoo, rickymoo!
He's the one for me! Oooh!

MOO!

---

IJLTG

Wake it up
Slather some concrete on the pavement
Turn it over to the stove
Roasted on high until the seams burst
Fried fat like yesterday's bacon
Awake

What does it want? Does it know?
That's the problem. It doesn't.
Waking it just causes pain
Pain numbed to it but not to those who care.
Why not just shoot it dead?

How to wake up that which always sleeps?
Deaf to the loudest sirens
Blind to the brightest lights
Numb to the strongest touch
Turn the stove up more, cook it to death
But it doesn't wake up

Concrete hardens.
Ashes settle.
Sirens wane.
Does it awaken? Only time will tell.

---

-1

i am waiting for
ricky's overdue demand
negative karma

---

Inyew Endow

The name rolls off their tongues with joyful glee.
They look at me and smile as they say it.
I look away. I try to hide my face.
It does no good. They will never let me
Escape the treachery of mocking laughs.

I thought about going to the courthouse
And asking for a form to get it changed.
But that's not right. How could I do such cruel
Things to the only gift I was ever
Given? I bear my burden with great pride.

Just who am I? The world may never know.
I'm not so sure that I'm aware myself.
How can one separate my name from me?
Am I more than my name? More than a face?
Is there a me outside all memory?

I used to think so. Now I'm not so sure.
I'm not a thing to them besides a barn
That claims its fame from pictures of itself,
Leading to more pictures. And thus more fame.
I'm not a man. I'm just an empty shell.

Should I just fade away into the night,
The shadow of myself defining me?
Maybe I'll form a new reputation!
Then they'll know the real me! Or will they? No,
They won't. They'll only know the me they see.

They say a rose by any other name
Would smell as sweet. I don't buy it. Who would
Put a** rape in a vase? Who'd dare offer
Their love a freshly cut wrist? I wouldn't.
A rose is decoration. Not a rose.

The day God brought me to this world, my name
Was entered into some old database
I've never seen. Companies know every
Detail about my life. They don't know me.
I am just a statistic, not a man.

How can I share myself with this poor world,
Obsessed with knowing people by the things
It sees, but not by who they are? I can't.
It's time I faced the fact that I don't know
Myself outside the things I show to me.

How can I find all of the things the world
Does not want me to know about myself
Or anyone else in it? The only
Answer that I can think of is that it
Doesn't. And with that it all fades away.

Who is God? God is dead. And so am I.
And now that I have come to face this fact
There is only one thing left for me to do.
The dead must embrace life. The living had
Their chance at it, but chose to die instead.

So let me hear my name flow from your lips.
Shout it out to the winds with joyful glee!
It bothers me not. I am not my name.
I am a man. A free man, unlike you.
Cast off your shackles. Be a man like me.

---

Midnight

Drip. Drip.
Echoing in her ears.
Unnoticed.
Attention focused elsewhere.
On the glowing box.
At night.

Drip. Drip.
A swamp. The Everglades.
Surrounding her.
Is this what babies feel
Wrapped in their swaddling clothes?
Is this her future as an old woman?
No.
They don't have the box.

Drip. Drip.
She stares. The eyes blink.
She may have sprung a leak.
It flicks out. Clearly intentional.
That b*****d.

Drip. Drip.
It's too much.
The waves wash over her.
Drowning her in a sea of pleasure
As she stares at the mountain
Looming ahead.

Drip.
The sun is out.
The floodwaters are abating.
The mountain collapses.
But she has survived.
Until next time.

---

Ambiguous Ambiguity

Lost in the mystical tide of whenever.
A person or a player? The trumpeter plays.
A spell destroys them all. The witch that
Wipes counters clean with a rag. No one
Can avoid the spell that has been cast over all.
Have you been played, or are you a player?
The player plays, while the witch casts a spell that
Destroys he who comes into contact with it.
Do not play with fate! Mere encounters? No,
That we continue to strive on despite the player
May prove that the encounter is more than what it seems.
The next spell the witch casts might be your last.
Will you be played or will you put an additional
Requirement on your life? Counter the waves of darkness!
Move on to a permanent solution that will free you,
Free you from he who has already been played.
Oh, but you do not want to be saved. Your strength is
Countered.

The Christening
It means I'm free. Free
To face the world.
The door shuts
Behind me. I hear the key
Turn. Away from them
I am now kept. A prisoner
Of their horrid regime.
Where hath my womb gone?

Hidden Meanings of the Ash-Jeweled Princess

Come, my darling.
Come to me.
Put your head on my breast.
Your hand on my cheek.
Tell me all your lies.

It was a dark and stormy evening.
I in my nightcap. She in her cape.
I took it from her. She wanted.
It back. I gutted her with.
Words of a thousand scriptures.
She's a Mormon now.

My child, my child. Confess.
Confess your sins unto me.
I shall show thee the way.
The way to be. With.
Your hand on my cheek.
Tell me all your lies.

She's not a Mormon.
She's a Jew. I told her.
What to do. She didn't listen.
So I beat her. Like a good.
Muslim husband should.
I own her.

Let it all out. No truth.
Be told. Sing of your love.
Your hate. Your loss.
Your gains. Keep.
Your hand on my cheek.
Tell me all your lies.

She had stopped believing.
There was nothing I could do.
No heaven. No hell. No.
God at the end of the tunnel.
I decided to make a believer.
Out of her. She had to meet.
Him. So I slit open her throat.
And stuffed her eyeballs inside.

A sumptuous meal. Fit for.
A god. Dine on thy bliss. It is.
The answer. Do not remove.
Your hand on my cheek.
Tell me your lies.

I told her to stop believing.
She wouldn't. Silly ignorant.
Fool. When would she learn.
That I was all she had? That.
The world is all? I told her.
To ******** Zoroaster. She told me.
To ******** myself.
She's gone.

The lies. They become you.
Conceal you.
Reveal you.
Why look for truth?
Take them instead.
Let me reclaim.
My life. Take your head.
From my breast.
Bite it hard.
Take your hand.
From my cheek.
Slap ******** me hard and rough.
Until I disappear.

It's clear, now.
Truth before me.
For the first time.
I am afraid.
Light streaks. Truth fades.
d**k hard. Eyes crusty.
Time to become.
All my lies.



Lin

From Nemesis, she rose. A great hero.
Defiant. When she wrestled with the best,
The chances of a loss were near zero.
She slaughtered all the brave, and ate the rest.

A reputation known throughout the land.
"Too powerful," they cried, "This isn't right!"
And suddenly our warrior was banned,
Kept from the land where she had learned to fight.

She's wandered through the years for a great length,
Shelved far away from any peering eye,
Replaced by weak peers with a newfound strength,
This former hero now shall slowly die.

What shall become of heroes of today?
Preserved in time, or will they fade away?