My mind's lense

My mind's lense

A Poem by Apparition

 

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Subject : This is not a drill!
Posted Date: : Oct 6, 2008 12:21 AM
This is just a drill.
Don't be alarmed.
This is just a drill.
We wouldn't bring you harm.
"There is no danger!"
So says the stranger.
The strange deranged stranger,
Full of hate and anger.
A dynasty of death,
There's rhinestones in their breath.
Probably the same guys who flood the streets with pounds of meth.
They wear the crown in every town they enter,
They are tormentors.
They are inventors of the brainwashing technique,
That gets them to the place they're bent towards.

Don't you ever wonder why the media is feeding ya,
These scenes of death and bleeding.
Repeating and repeating,
And repeating.
They must have had a meeting.
And decided that the TV should be filled with guns and beatings.
The type of men who think that all is fair when they are cheating.
They say there's no defeating,
This New World Order.
Doesn't matter if you're a politician,
Judge or a reporter.
Doesn't matter if you have proof, 
On a video recorder.
They will blow your house up with a mortar.
And throw your a*s across the border.
Only with some ripped jeans,
A dollar and a quarter.
They will slaughter sons and daughters,
Just to get a little farther.
Their only downfall,
Is that they don't expect to see a martyr.
 
Subject : My mind’s lense
Posted Date: : Oct 5, 2008 9:41 AM
Isn't it realistic that my reality consists of what I see?
And is it realistic that this though makes little sense to me?
It isn't realistic!
Because nothing I see is consistent,
With the visions in my mind's incisions,
Recreating every instance.
Depreciating thoughts,
Of phrases lost in mazes.
Of sages locked in cages.
Thoughts of outrage just seem outrageous.
As a chemical my state of mind is miniscule,
And microscopic.
Too small to be seen by optics.
Grinding unwound.
Ground up, a little found.
Malleated into matter.
But what is matter but a batter?
Littered with sub-conscious chatter.
Littered with little belittled pitter patter.
Congested contestants of the matrix in the sky weep in silence.
Then commit acts of violence,
For the sake of fake defiance.
For my sake.
Holy me, holy you and holy she.
My lord, my lamb, my son, my light.
My cells, my self, my mind, my sight.
If I was blind my mind would shine,
Because every thought would shine so bright.
If I was deaf my breath would detail every step.
The lack of noise would pose as poise.
My voice would pose,
As noise,
Until reality arose,
From within a wilted rose.

© 2009 Apparition


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Added on September 25, 2009

Author

Apparition
Apparition

five thousand two hundred and eighty away from waves



About
I am an apparition, a ghost in the system, the host's no longer the victim, the parasite grows weary of the barely alive flesh dressed in a hardly harrowing death caressed mess, stressful doesn't trul.. more..

Writing
The Mad Trimmer The Mad Trimmer

A Screenplay by Apparition


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A Poem by Apparition