politics

The new President

Something happened that was both unexpected and great.
By some miracle, I've been elected President of the United States.
I got 535 electoral votes and Romney got three.
Obama didn't even get one and he's pissed at me.
I had no idea that I'd win on that large of a scale.
This is the biggest landslide since Reagan beat Mondale.
I'm very surprised but happy that this came about.
Obama and Romney are plotting revenge, there is no doubt.
I ran as an Independent and my victory is what many will resent.
But for the next four years, I promise that I'll be a great President.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a fictional poem.

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Manipulated Power

Money and power changes us
secret societies making moves for us
never time to discuss thus i've got my suspicions
living my life under subliminal conditions

wearing my helmet for the crash on the glass shield
gotta be pissed off making decisions rage builds
i killed serenity so i 'm an addict
anxious for peace sometimes i panic

the word is .....Nomadic
Latino traveling through the earth charging the problematic
authoritative officials changing schematics
no skeptic straight addict of the lyrics graphic

cryptic & classic method of exposing facts
too many broken pacts
more tact is needed to heal from the past
but power wants to blow through reality real fast

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War and conquest of the spirit

Folder: 
The Gods Of Man

While many had proclaimed their coming to be a work of the devil, and others tried to cloud the truth, there were those who had seen the coming as fate, and had begun to worship this new race. Cults began to appear and grow in every corner of the world, and spread this radical new message to those any and all who would believe and follow. Every old world religion had now found themselves a dangerous new enemy; not of science or of politics, but of the mystery that had now been solved, the knowledge that had grown from the darkness of ignorance that man now faced for the first time in his history. What our religion failed to acknowledge, and our beliefs refused accept, the sky revealed; the void of space finally spoke the truth. A new war was on the horizon.

"Viva La Mexico!!"

The beautiful land of enchantment,
Thousands of years of progress were made,
Mayans, Incans and Aztecs 
Long before being enslaved,

 

Birthplace of the cowboy,
Flooded by tourist seeking nice weather,
Cozulmel and Cancun on the beach,
Would be changed by the violence forever,

 

Blamed on American's undoubtful thirst,
For the product made from simple leaves,
Hundreds of kilos crossing the line,
Countless innocent killed on the streets,

 

Headless bodies in daytime light,
Cartels trade bullets for power,
Ruthless villians against one another,
Caring not about who gets devoured,

 

I have seen the source of this beast,
Have got to know some of them well,
Sticking needles deep into their arms,
Slumped over in poor neighborhood hells,

 

These are the ones who fuel the rage,
Junkies now connected with homicide,
Because of their ways of not dealing with life,
Many of humans have died,

 

Money corrupts men in their high places,
Turned backs on their country for greed,
The circle of death continues,
So junkheads can get what they need,

 

Its simple economics, supply and demand,
Car bombs in the cities explode,
No resemblance to the land that once was,
Viva la Mexico of long long ago..

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CHANGE

I don’t want to LIVE, I want to THRIVE
I don’t begin to steer, before I put the car in drive
I live my life, for me, myself, and I
Not because I’m selfish, but because I have a mind

You don’t say you’ll DO, you say you’ll TRY
You don’t want to live, you wish to die
I worship my truths, you worship your lies
My mission seen in broad daylight, yours vague in disguise
I walk on the sidewalk, when a car speeds down the road
But you claim the middle, as your only home
When I look ahead, to accomplish my dreams
I swear by my will, not by my need
My convictions make the cake, they power bread to rise
But your icing hides your motive, to cover my cries

And as for CHANGE, I’m waiting for the day
When that change will leave its course to shift the other way
To see wheels turn in a world where motion is
Our life and our vision toward a freedom of His

I stand for the courage of the founders and the shapers of the way
To Adams, to Jefferson, to Lincoln, I pray
That not only your words and your promises keep here
But that people see your deeds and decisions devised by courage, not by fear
These founders of this nation would shake in their graves
If they knew how their sons and their daughters behave
Not to leave a legacy of strength and determination behind
But a plan of vengeance conspiring men need not live but survive
So that any challenge to their authority, their whim and their commandment
Is blanketed softly by media, politicians, and Mr. President
But anyone out there with the strength enough to face this
Is not only a liar, but an outright ‘racist’

You may have won, as a victor in cunning
But your defenses are down, and America is coming
Because we know, in the worst possible of ways
That if we don’t CHANGE now, you’ll open our graves
And it doesn’t take an evolutionist to know this so
That natural selection cannot touch our resolve to say no
That we’re not common serfs to be held up by the ear
But kings and queens of the world, who will see and will hear
So all you good people, with your futures and plans
Remember these words, with whatever faith that you can
That the worst prophet the Holy Ghost can have on its soils
Is the slithering serpent, with a cross in its coils.

Psycho- Confessions "A Psychological Confession"

Psycho- Confessions: A Psychological Confession
Authored by Matthew Wayne

List Price: $10.00 (!!!SALE!!!)
6" x 9" (15.24 x 22.86 cm)
Black & White on Cream paper
250 pages
ISBN-13: 978-1466426245 (CreateSpace-Assigned)
ISBN-10: 1466426241
BISAC: Psychology / Emotions

https://www.createspace.com/Img/T370/T50/T38/BookCoverImage.jpg

Psycho- Confessions;
My Anthology of poems, literature, tangents and journal entries going as far back as 10+ years. Most of what is found here can be found on my webpage, (http://www.postpoems.org/authors/damienhaze)

CreateSpace eStore: https://www.createspace.com/3705038

BACKCOVER

-------------------------------------------
I believe in the conscious attempt at better understanding who we are, that at the very core of every atom there is energy, there is empty space, there is potential for limitless possibilities, and that is where miracles are born.

“Gaze upon the fire of a star, to become lost within it's halo. To know heaven, to see the gamma ray and to feel the vibrational energy as it courses around us, through us. To experience love in a world of brutality where the earth becomes the devil's playground through the minds and hearts of man”

-------------------------------------------

'Crimson Sunset' – Unknown written date.
“I feel compelled to write, so I write. It's ironic seeings how writing even if it's just notes, or completed sonnets they are my only true form of expression, I write what I see and what I feel. Many great authors and poets have done the same. I often write before I think, sometimes I get lost to my emotions so deep in thought I don't know what I have wrote until I look it over. Awhile back ago I decided to keep a journal. Now looking back on it, over the hastily scribbled words I see the emotions of a madman, a hopeless romantic, a lost dreamer and even an angry citizen. I ranted on and on about the most trivial stuff, yet at that moment in my life they were the highest of my priorities. I cannot help but pity my own past, and I am not fond of that, for to feel pity on another is to stab the already rusted knife that much deeper into the fool's chest. An added insult which never finds home in any situation. I could never figure out or understand why I felt like my writing could infest a person's mind. Like a plague it opens a gateway to an infectious cancer. Manipulating the readers mind, the harvester to a black death. Where I become my own demon.
It may sound selfish however, I must state that I write for myself alone, not for the readers who happens across this passage. No I would encourage them to write, and write for themselves never for another's pleasure. I hold no regrets in the way I live my life for that matter, and will apologize to no one for breathing the air.”

“Blood flows like oil,
Killing our mother, polluting our soil
Insanity runs wild, with stupidity on the rise
our addiction to violence will be our demise.
War, famine, and greed
losing our humanity like a disease
Death becomes second nature,
determined to bring forth our rapture
a myth we are trying to usher”

I - Overture

II – My Seventh Level

III – Confessions of a Madman
(journal Entries)

IV – A Notion of Thoughts
(Editorials – Commentaries)

V – Random Madness
(Tangents)

VI – A Pathological Muse
(Sonnets - Poetry)

VII – Serenity

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is just a tease to try and tempt you into getting the book which is my best work in my opinion. I have lowered the price as far as I can without taking a hit to my own pocket. I am not looking to make money off this book, as it's a collection of basicly my very soul. I have time to make money later, and can ;) but if you can afford it I would recommend you grab a copy and enjoy....

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"Demigod"

Folder: 
My Work

Insolent minds;
are welcome to the view.
Sounds and colors climbing
to their heart's delight.
Pull down the blinds
nobody's watchin,true?.
Marvelous assumption
this rendering of sight.
Information is a bane;
communication, grief.
Emaciated ecstasy
is languishing in children.
We just want to breathe again,
oxygen's a thief.
Is this our legacy
chained in sheltered prisons?
Soul starved refrains
require new incision;
dying while supplying
cures for old infection.
We cry for rain,
then alter the decision,
Mother Earth is dying
to see her own reflection.
Make no mistake;
I too, love release.
and I like to feed from my blank screen.
Known to placate,
anything for peace.
But I'd rather tend the musings in between.
Yet still they rise;
attending to the masses.
Paying; bowing lowly
to the idols they hold dear.
News dues come at demise
of the quivering classes.
Sheep approach death slowly,
grinning ear to ear.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I have a political stance. I abhor politics.
Eyes open, ears up....

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General Life

The knife is extra sharp as I hold it to my neck. I ponder the consequences of my future and realize that the world is petty and bleak. Hard working individuals get shit on while others live off of trust funds and spit on the less fortunate.

All I have to do is press down hard and all this agony will be over. Thinking about how the world has fallen to hypocritical politics and no one wants to see that the little people are being swept under the looking glass to believe promises that will never be fulfilled.

Cutting into my skin I see the promise of a new tomorrow. Red, White and Blue oozes out to show that the United States is hemorrhaging from its loyalty to its citizens. Every drip signifies another promised destroyed by politicians writing law for their constituents benefit.

I am losing consciousness and see what could of been if the blindfold have not been pulled over my eyes. A world of unity, clarity and promise awaits on the other side.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Why? Why should we sit and be stabbed by politicians that promise us the moon fully knowing that it is impossible.?

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Fried Nonsense

Smelling like fried nonsense,
a ragged participle
of the local wealth
had set his sights upon a
man still in good health.

His swipes were all impotent,
betraying at his core
a desperate lacking
of substance, of soul or
of moments feeling whole.

The man fought for himself,
alarmed and confused
by the need of the heavy
to make sport of the light,
of the few who can't afford to run.

Others watched and bellowed,
bile and words of well-wish.
They struggled as two strangers,
from older neighborhoods,
ten acres between the two.

Their struggle grew stale and flat.
People stole away their eyes,
their attention and their young.
Locked in discord and silence,
the two there would remain.

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