What is wrong with people

** WARNING **

The following is neither entertaining nor amusing! Just a bad string.

What is wrong with people

What is wrong with people

who vote against their future

they vote for fast talking clowns

who turn out to be slimy losers

conservative hacks that send

their children to wars in sandy hells

all for the greedy corporations

that pay our representatives well

what is wrong with news media

that reports lies as if they're facts

and that refuses to do the research

because it's easier to work as hacks

they report to confuse us

and they report just to sell

all for greedy corporations

that pay the reporters very well

They work for world corporations

who don’t want us to know

our water is filled with mercury

and the north pole has no snow

what is wrong with politicians

they are working for themselves

taking kickbacks from contractors

who can't build a level shelf

big business pays the prostitutes

who put their votes up for sale

to make it easy for them to flourish

while the mom and pops all fail

What is wrong with you people

who say you hate the government

you march in anger in the streets

protesting my small unemployment

which I feel fortunate to receive

because the stooges you voted for

did nothing to keep my job here

so I’m stuck in a Wal-Mart store

what is wrong with the politician

who answers to the lobbyists?

What is wrong with the voter

who votes in blissful ignorance?

what is wrong with the corporations

who merely want to own my ass?

What is wrong with the rest of us

for not raising hell and fighting back?

If I were rewriting this, I'd choose the better points and focus the writing. And maybe find a way to make some kind of refrain turning it into lyrics. But I'm a lazy bastard. Some might say I'm a filthy son of a ditch digger.

Miserable Poemetricle Shorts

 Numbered in reverse order: (according to the amount of pain they inflict)

15.

I struggle

I struggle

And I struggle

And All I get back is trouble

14.

i was left to myself

and i had to grow alone.

i learned to shape my home,

myself, and those around me,

and i learned to satisfy

myself

13.

sometimes when i'm not aware,

the beast inside me comes to life

and just as i've begun to doze off

it stabs me with a knife

12.

I am the last ray of the final setting of the sun

11.

Sunlight soothes my eyes

A warm wind calms my nerves

For God’s sake, make it stop!

10.

I live today

I breathe today

Today is not the best of days

9.

Get a grip

Inject your lip

Here’s a tip

Don’t slip

Don’t flip

Don’t drip

you ain’t hip

8.

the exiter

people come, people go

or, as they say,

"you can be replaced"

on and off the stage

like players in a play

speaking lines of hello-goodbye,

people come, people go

and of course,

"you can be replaced".

but, if you're good,

if you're really really good,

you will leave an empty space

You sons of bitches

7.

One pill makes you swallow

Another pill makes you fall

And the ones the dealer sells you

Throw you up hard against the wall

Don’t take any meds with malice

Unless you want your brain to stall

6.

One snowflake

two snowflakes

three snowflakes

Snow Snow Snow is all I see

man this snow is thrilling me

5.

I am a bonehead

my head is thick with bone

if it weren't for other boneheads

I would truly feel alone

4.

Satan smells like a bad burrito.

Almonds make me cry. 

Dire Straights won't play my town. 

Orange is an edible color.

A plane flies overhead thru swamps of clouds. 

Tarantulas live for the day they are to be eaten. 

Monkeys don't lie. Buffalo don't fly.

Shamu, the killer whale, is a guy. 

Towels can sting your eye. 

Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye

3.

2.

Do what you have to do

Do what you need to do

Do what you want to do

How do you do?

1.

He wasn’t you

You were him

He’ll never know you

You do know him

He is fortunate

More so than I

crucifixion needs a-fixin’

This is dim. I wrote it because I saw a dirty picture of Jesus in someone's house. I wrote it to the tune of the theme song from "Eight is Enough" which I can't even remember.

I'm not even going to pretend this is anything but goofy. Someone told me that for me to write a song about Jesus is like a worm describing daylight.

That's right! I'm a worm and I'm proud of it! I writhe and I squirm and I aerate the earth. You want some some aeration? Come get some!

Motherwormers

crucifixion needs a-fixin’

There’s a replica of the crucifixion

hanging by the kitchen door.

The television is across the room

sitting hunched upon the floor.

It is there by the glowing screen

where all the family's eyes are locked.

They all stare at the flickering screen,

              shining new and never rusting

              from its’ just recent cleaning,

and back just across the room

hanging where he’s always been,

as it’s always been the custom,

Jesus is in need of dusting.

There’s a picture of Jesus Christ

hanging on the wall by the staircase.

The family runs up and down

to and fro, in and out,

but while they often stop

at the bottom of the steps

by the table with the vase

to kick the dirt from their feet

that they’ve been dragging through the mud

noone who stops looks to see

the picture of our savior

almost hidden ‘neath the dust.

And, if you’ve been living like this

you should know it for yourself

that you can’t blame anyone else

for the dirt you keep in your house.

So get your rags and your broom

and your sponge and your mop.

Clean the shadows from your eyes

and the cobwebs from your heart.

Let your window panes be cleaned

and show clearer than their glass.

Let the new morning shine through

to defrost the frost of the past.

Then when your neighbors come visit

and are standing in your hall,

let them see the clean pictures

that you hang upon your wall.

Let them see that your heart is wide open

toward the man who paid his great price,

the man who gave his life upon the cross,

the man we all know as Jesus Christ.

The Hollow, Classroom

I don't know if this is anything. It's like it starts out with a possible purpose and then just crumbles until it dangles. 

IT DEFINITELY IS NOT FINISHED PRODUCT

Oh, and I legally changed my name to "Nelson Fluffernutter" 

the following a-be the thing

===================================================

The Hollow

Inside the hollow emptiness

where the Flying Dutchman has made its home

live and die the trolls in their chains

trying to make deals with the gnomes.

“Who invented this darkness?”,

inquires a dwarf with a pain.

Just then enters a hypnotist

who’s been waiting in the rain

with his eyeballs all bloodshot

from the mercury in his brain.

He raises his watch to his eye

and declares all self-satisfied

“You should not ask who.

what you should ask, is why.”

“You should not ask who but, why.”

(If all the Beings

of the written sky

would only reveal

their naked eyes…)

==============================================

Required follow up:

Now, does the writer give the impression they have a working intellect?

Does the writer favor the hypnotist or the trolls? What about the imaginary character the writer didn't even bother to write into the piece?

Was it necessary for the writer to restate "you should not ask who" as though they had forgotten what they were attempting to accomplish?

If the writer asked nicely, would you hand over the keys to your automobile?

Is that a Twisted Sister pin on your uniform?

Radio gasbag, radio gasbag, radio gasbag

you can see where it all kind of falls apart

=========================

Radio gasbag, radio gasbag, radio gasbag

Radio gasbag, radio gasbag, radio gasbag

You fill the air with a gaseous stink

You ain’t as smart as your mommy thinks

Your audience is made up of ineffectual finks

Radio gasbag, you make us gag

 

Radio gasbag

You fill the air with hate filled lies

Shout your tropes until justice dies

call your shit free speech in disguise

Leave others to pay the price

 

Radio gasbag

You’re ugly in all the wrong places

Heartless and greedy and exceptionally shapeless

You leave trails like a slug in slime

the pollution you spew is an oral crime

Someday your gassy ass will do the time

 

Radio gasbag

Get your Viagra pills together

Your toys are being delivered

The law turns its myopic blind eye

Because you are a wealthy guy

 

Radio gasbag you’re gonna burn in hell

along with your followers, it’s just as well

Radio gasbag, you make us gag

with the sewage you sell

 

words shoot from your hole 

as ammo aimed at young and old

You poison good people just for pay

It’s all a gag you like to say

why don’t you shut your fat greasy hole?

You broadcast diseases from your soul

One day your fat heart will explode

no one will miss you, you won’t leave a hole

You’re a narcissist and only you love you

You’ll be forgotten by history

So we have that to look forward to

another time, flatlined:

“I am all the gas you need!” – shouts the radio gasbag. He is a bloviating pile of feces. His audience feeds off his narcissistic sense of certainty.

The audience throws their love to the gasbag.

Filled with poisonous methane, the gasbag puffs himself up like a puffer fish but he is not cute, nor is he harmless as his hatred and lies fly through the skies.

Radio gasbag talks a bunch of hash jabbering like a brain damaged dodo bird triple-chinned and unable to defy gravity. His shirt pocket is filled with Viagra as he awaits the toy for which he’s paid and he’s looking forward to a night of boyous joy. On the job, his mouth won’t stop yapping and his fist won’t stop pumping his microphone full of rancid lies and bloviating self-humping. Poisonous gas leaks from the anal mouth-hole on the gasbag and infects his studio audience. The fans think he’s being outrageous but he’s really being contagious. Radio gasbag. Listen here, Mr. Gasbag, you ain’t as smart as your mommy thinks you are. Your mouth is an explosive sewer hole. A dumping ground of hazardous material. Outhouse. Latrine. Used diaper. A fetid nest of flies.

Radio gasbag

You’re ugly in all the wrong places.

Heartless and greedy and exceptionally shapeless you leave trails like a slug in slime the pollution you spew is an oral crime Someday your gassy ass will do the time One day your fat heart will explode, and no one will miss you. No one will miss you.

No one has missed you.

Miserable Poemetrical Shorts 2

 some junk looking for abuse

11.

an ocean lacking a returning tide

faded from my lighthouse eye

10.

the V-chip loves you

& does not wish to shut you down

i, however, want to shut you down

& turn you off with my remote

9.

I am fabulous like a dog leaping through dry desert air.

I will bite.

8.

the lonely messiah grapples

with the true meaning of the cheese

as his disciples end in the dust

of a meteoric rise and the flattening fall

back to the molecular ball.

7.

Nobody knows these things

Nobody knows those things

Nobody knows anything

Whatever it is you think you know

Will not admit to knowing you

6.

I have died

and I have died

and I have died

and not once,

twice, or three times.

Innumerably.

Repeatedly.

Continually.

Today I have died.

I know tomorrow,

I will die.

And, having died,

will live to die again.

5.

My brain.

It ain’t on fire.

It don’t burn nor turn

It’s a flat tire

4.

Living can be traumatic.

Living with asteroid addiction

can be brutally traumatic.

Avoid possible extinction.

Don’t be hit by asteroids.

Avoid trauma.

Avoid birth.

If you should see your future parents

about to conceive you,

kick their private parts off.

Take control of your trauma.

Before asteroids take control of you

3.

Barfley Shoestink

Smelly Salivas

Nickelodeon Giggling

And Allass B. Tokenslot

All walk into a bar together.

Not one of them leaves alive

Because Nipplelips Rage murdered them

2.

When you’re deranged

Pickles shoot out from your brain

The sludge in your blood refuses to drain

Angels refrain from singing your name

Copulating with mice makes you feel sane

When you’re deranged

1.

a renegade mosquito bite 

sent me to see the doctor

my arm stiff and swollen at the elbow

not very easy to move

the doctor told me

the rate of allergies is rising

with the depletion of the ozone layer

"yeah", i thought,

"let's strip the blanket from the earth

and have the insects watch us squirm for a while"

we will all grow old together

and fry

Frightened Sight

Frightened Sight

This was written in the year 2067. The author is unknown and there are pieces missing. No one knows whether it's a song or not. There is little, if any, truthful documentation from that time. Just a damn lot of graves.


Frightened Sight

A hollow blighted sun by day
lights the sky with piercing sickness
the earth is now a barren victim
another product of industrial business,
radiation and chemical poisons
and starvation blankets the world
starvation blankets this world

Silent days, thundering nights
hungry children tremble in fear
parents from war return in pieces
the wealthy have nothing to fear
cruelty thrives, slashes and burns
now bombs are rocking the world
bombs are rocking this world

[missing pieces]

People with wealth eat very well
from the poor who lie on their plates
their soldiers kill for a daily meal
standing guard at wrought iron gates
where the poor will pass to genocide
and no god is watching this world
no god is watching this world

Bush monkeyhead

Bush monkeyhead

“i am president incompetent monkyhead” -
bush announces over his airwaves
- and i am leader of the romulan party

bush's federally funded doctor
enters the room in a cage -
“i certify this here incompetent monkeyhead
being clean, if not entirely free,
of germs & other contaminants”

there is no cheering yet

fabulously & tender as chiffon,
a moth flutters from bush's ear
he smatches it from the air
and shuffles it between his two tongues
outside, in the street, a coyote
belches from abstinence of food

bush cries out with a mighty pride
wraps hisself in carbon dated sewerage

- “i am crappy here to bleed with food
i do not see your squalor, and, if i did,
i would neither notice nor acknowledge it” -

bush (BUSH)
cannot himself find the whole world itself
on a map
and has to be restrained from
drinking water out of the toilet,

You can't never get a new world order done
without first killing up the old one
but first we have to bomb iraq

when called upon to tell a truth,
the BUSH swears he will
reform the part in his hair

he leaves the microphone
tanks follow him from the podium

news crews awaken themselves
and take a scooter home

BUSH receives a call -
“quick! I need to use up the earth right now!” -
it is the voice of commerce-
“yuh yuh i need the cash
first, of course, we have to bomb iraq” -
BUSH fears he will not make a mark
other than the hash marks in his undies

he considers the future,
the following generations,
he wants to – “starve all those
unborn bastards into submission
and force them to respect me” -
charles manson calls
to express admiration for
bush's suit
the suit keeps BUSH out of jail

bush bemoans
the world no longer exists
a map of a menu is passed along
someone suggests he place a
new world order

once again
he speaks passionately for an eternity
and a dollar-fifty

media thugs agree with BUSH
news crews shake 'n awaken themselves
catch the next scooter home
to where their precious laundry awaits,
a tiny microscoptic camera follows them,
that is their thanks

the plan is on!
teamsters control their forked trucks
and operate benign enemy robots
while the grumpanies that splay them
hurl huge unbelievable amounts of cash
into a viscous and uncalled for tornado

no treats fall from the sky

ceo's of thoughtless souls
fire lead pellets into rats' holes
from the safety of their limos

the order has passed bush [BUSH] by
bush furthermore ain’t got no job and is now unemployable

cheering ain’t gonna help