mad

6 Poems

Folder: 
Poem Strings
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6 POEMS
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-saiom shriver-
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OBLIVIOUS

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Darkness is oblivious

to what to Light is obvious

 

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Footnote: don't agree with the quote but thought it was interesting

http://www.jenniferkruse.com/uploads/5/4/0/8/5408246/4418590.jpg?374

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  LIPSTICK MADE WITH COW BRAINS

Because cow butchers
made cows sick
there are mad cows,
mad roses, and
mad lipstick.

 

 

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Long record of livestock companies feeding parts of animals to other animals

https://www.organicconsumers.org/old_articles/madcow/FDA22004.php

Lipstick from cow brains
http://rense.com/general56/ccoe.htm

http://www.mad-cow.org/~tom/Dateline.html

 

http://www.shoutwiki.com/w/images/ashlandscience/5/58/Jonik-Mad-Cow.jpg 

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SONS OF VENICE

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Daily fewer of

Venice' sons

taste of

dead venison

while more

every day

read Dante

Lao Tsu and Tennyson

 

http://cabinmaxluggage.co.uk/venice-bans-wheeled-suitcases-cabin-max-can-help/


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HOW A COUPLE I KNOW MET

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They met at an Emotions Anonymous

meeting. Each was considering

suicide after the death of a beloved spouse.

It was paradoxical that though they were

each in emotional pain, their auras

healed each other.

As they began to talk to each other

 their minds which had for months

been in turmoil were powerless to stop the

magnetic energy which flowed from each

to the other.

 

www.timecapsule.com


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HUNTERS KILLED A PREGNANT DEER

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The deer running for her life

was large with child.

Hunters chased her down

and killed her in the wild.

This horror was in

the mind of John Prestige

filed.

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British journalist John Prestige was assigned to cover a Devon and Somerset Staghounds event, where he watched hunters chase and kill a pregnant deer. In protest, he formed the Hunt Saboteurs Association

 

imgarcade.com

 
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MYSTIC FELONS
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Jesus illegally took fruit from an orchard for His disciples
Jesus was executed as a felon guilty of a capital crime
Gandhi illegally stood against the 'laws' of invading Britain.

Martin Luther King illegally sat in at lunch counters.
Rosa Parks illegally sat in a seat on the back of a bus.

Henry David Thoreau went to jail for refusing to pay a tax

   which would support slavery.

Elizabeth McAllister, a Catholic nun, went to jail for

      trespassing on nuclear weapons property in a nonviolent

     manner.

Martin Sheen has been arrested over 60 times at nonviolent

   nuclear protests.

Nelson Mandela spent over 2 decades in jail for his nonviolent

   opposition to the apartheid of the S African regime.

Over 1000 suffragettes working for the right of women to vote

     were imprisoned in England.. some were forcefed.

Ken Saro-Wiwa and 8 other nonviolent environmental activists

    were hanged by the Nigerian government at the urging of Shell Oiol

Countless activists have been arrested for nonviolent protests of the

   School of Americas which at Ft Benning, Georgia trains Latin American

    military in torture 

What spiritual power do laws made by unelected pawns

of billionaire butchers have?
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Footnote:

King and Gandhi said part of their ethical structure was taken
from Leo Tolstoy, who said we should not cooperate with
unGodly courts.

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http://famebiography.net/wp-content/uploads/3517_martin_sheen.jpg

http://soaw.org

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A Mad Man

In reason he does not rest in peace,


Like a wind ever impatient he is,


Acts irrationally like Othello,


At times appears childish so.


 

Humane feeling is not there,


In his heart’s sphere,


Utters words with no balance,


A full-fledged nonsense.


 

He keeps on defaming others shamelessly,


And is jealous awfully,


Of others’ success and deformed entirely,


Is his attitude truly.


 

He is a fool of fools,


His insanity rules,


Over his conscience,


Devoid of the least sense.


 

The endeavour to teach him is futile,


He keeps on with his idiotic style,


May God bless him well!

 

May he in wisdom dwell.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I just wrote it from my imagination. In fact, I had been working on a research article on the mad characters in William Shakespeare's plays. Suddenly, I thought about writing a poem about an 'insane' person. I hope you like it. :)

View kingofwords's Full Portfolio
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Maddness

 

Her eyes have fury in them

 

They are glossed over and red

 

You can see the anger in her eyes

 

She's about to explode

 

She trys to breath

 

In and out

 

Nothing happens

 

She is boiling

 

Red so fierce

 

Can't hold it

 

She's in a rage

 

She's lost all control

 

Cant contain it

 

Fire in her eyes

 

Can't fight it

 

She is on the verge

 

Pushing back

 

She's about to burst

 

She's going insane

 

She burst's into flames

 

She's gone.

 

 

 

 

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Shadow

Sometimes do you feel like a shadow?

You're always there but no-one knows

So many times you've gotten trampled on before

And before anyone notices, you're always gone

 

This is what I feel like

Not loved, forgotten and disliked

These things seem to get in the way

But they always say "push through the day"

 

Sometimes I can, sometimes I can't

I feel so sad and yet so mad

I am really not a shadow anymore

I am just a girl who is unsure

 

I'm lost in a life that I am living

Just hoping and wishing I could change the beginning. 

 

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Zinxong: The Torturer

Folder: 
Cthulhu Mythos

Oracle of the one born of Hanuman's womb,

Words to confirm what has gone before.

Blessed is the one who grasps inner meaning,

For only the inner eye may read.

 

In the year of the badger,

My office to the Feeble One.

Century-old master of our sect,

And his bloated viceregent;

The Mad Prophetess.

 

Occupying the forlorn monastery of Tsang,

Whereupon no worldly man may enter.

The task was the keeping of the scrolls,

Housed in abundance.

 

No longer could they read the scripts,

Traced upon parchment.

From the skins of humans,

Stripped on their deathbeds.

 

When one might dare to read

What was written on those pages;

Dangerous doctrines might arise,

But forgotten by the tortures of our tribe.

 

But these two arts,

Copying the scrolls.

Flaying of humane hides,

Was the monastery enriched.

 

Discipline for their prisoners.

Peaceful community,

Year after year.

'Till the return of Zinxong,

Away serving as the torturer;

For Qwon-Ling, the most powerful.

 

At first rejoicing,

As for a long lost relative.

Little they knew that his warriors,

Were slaying all who opposed them.

Sounds of fighting in the dining hall,

All rose safe for the Feeble One;

Who had to be carried from place to place.

 

The false brother greeted the warriors,

The chieftain as well as his shaman.

His tribe had made alliance with our rivals,

The Brotherhood of Leng.

 

Their silken yellow caps glowed in the soft light,

Their presence was blasphemy.

A sword struck the Feeble One;

A second blow silenced forever the mouth of the Mad,

Prophetess ever at his side.

 

None mourned greatly at the passing of the Feeble One,

His voice not being heard in many a season;

Since the Mad One had dominated him.

 

The Cult: the Red Hats of Tsang.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about a torturer near the monastery of Tsang.

Yidhra

Folder: 
Poetry

Yidhra 

 

The most Ancient Gods,

Prototypes of all the Gods,

Worshiped before humanity;

And all came from one source.

 

The source is called Mlandoth,

All Gods are manifestations of Him.

Ngyr-Khorath, the mad and monstrous thing

Whom haunts this region of space

Before the solar system was formed,

Is a local eddy of Mlandoth's Race.

 

Yidhra, who was born with the life of Earth

Intertwining with all Earthly life-forms,

Teaches reverence for Mlandoth.

Before death was born, She was born;

For untold ages there was life without death,

Life without birth, life unchanging.

But at last death came; birth came;

Life became mortal and mutable,

And thereafter fathers died,

Sons were born, and never the same.

 

The slime became the worm

And the worm the serpent,

The serpent the yeti of the mountains

And the yeti became man.

 

Only She escaped death,

Escaped birth.

But She could not escape change,

For all things will change;

The trees of the North must shed their leaves.

She learned to devour the mortal creatures;

From their seed to change Herself,

And to be as all mortal things,

Living forever without birth, without death.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about the Cthulhu Mythos Goddess Yidhra.

Abdul Alhazred

Folder: 
Poetry

Alhazred was born in Yemen,
Traveling in the known world;
Amassing lore and legend,
And the tales of the fiends.

 

A writer and a poet,
He was educated much.
Geometry, algebra, Alchemy
And magickal incantations' need.

 

From the cup of occult knowledge
He drank deep...
Driving a normal person
To madness or beyond.

 

Alhazred was once a normal man,
With desires like we all can.
He was Arab by birth,
With a pale skin in rebirth.
Being labeled the mad,
As he was once a dad.
But had to eat his child,
By the King of the Palace's might.

 

He wrote down the Necronomicon,
In more than one song...
The obscure, the forgotten,
The suppressed, the rotten.
Never meant to be read;
It causes insanity with speed.
Not interpreted rationally,
The thoughts cause a rally.

 

Alhazred was insane,
By the lore he learned within.
But he wrote clear,
With many a tear.

 

The state of the Universe,
In reality suspense;
Plaything of mad gods at best,
Sewer of evil in the north, south, east, west.

 

Humans dare not dream of this,
For their peaceful lives they cannot miss.
A warning and guide this book is,
And by the Djinns you do wish.

 

Alhazred died, not a mystery,
It is written in history.
In the marketplace,
He was erased.
By the Demon from beyond,
Who wanted him gone.
Blood upon the sand,
There he was banned.
In broad daylight,
With many a sight.

 

He meddled with evil things,
With beings with wings.
He is now dead,
After he bled...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about the Mad Poet.

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move on ??

move on ?

is it time ?
Is it time for me to leave this place
A place that I've always called home
locked away in a shelter
Is it time for me to roam ?

Melted into these walls
I know of nothing else
The same black carpet
and the same pictures on the shelf

Nothing is being learned in here
It's to familiar
I need to go out and explore
Hear new word and see things peculiar

When is the right time ?
Is there a right time ?
That's the question I should ask.
But I don't know how 
My life moves way to fast

My whole world crumbles down into nothing
Like ash from a cigarette
Sooner or later it burns out
There is nothing there
Just old memories
And no one seems to care.

At the end of the day
It all comes down to me
I have to live my life
and let the past be

Author's Notes/Comments: 

hope you enjoyed :)

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