Tagged: pessimism

Into the Urinal

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I dip my toes

Into the urinal

For the plastic ocean

Is too pure for me.

Humanity isn’t transparent

Sparkling

It’s deteriorating

Yellow puss

Steaming fat

Urine

                Rot

                                Worthless.

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Rotten Old Bukowski (Explicit)

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Rotten old men

Standing like their

Rotten cocks

Erect

They watch the mothers

And children play.

Some watch the mothers

In skirts, tight, amorphous

Bending over

Their great asses

Blocking out the sky.

The daughters cowering behind

Oval shadow

Others watch the children

Thumbs perked up

Wriggling between two

Moist, pursued lips

Blowing their

Boo-boo’d thumbs.

Losing a Finger on Their Label

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I want them all to think I’m some radical insane

Feeding on the deteriorating morality

Of their McCarthyism

I want to be the one cockroach

That picks up the foot and tosses

The capitalist aside

I want to be the procommunist

                                Procapitalist

That everyone can find a piece to hate

Labels are like diseases

Slowly you watch pieces

You once cherished fall and

Rot from the bone

As one conforms and

Three murders two,

Only four three to find

He’s been played

By the all powerful five

Sen(non)se

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Same sad song

Same plain chorus

Of heart break

Self pity pop song

The I so malieable

It seems we all play off of

Cliché, clichette, shit in the red

Solo cup

Cheers, beer, insincere

And the million excuses

That make it her fault

Responsibility is drained

Like crushed cigarette bud

from stale lager

The barbed downward spiral

The words make a cell

my dull quill scratched away,

“escape”

in the aged cheddar walls.

 

The Enigma of the Grey Page

stock-photo-wood-textured-backgrounds-in-a-room-interior-on-the-forest-backgrounds-114391438Tripping over the sprouting roots

Peeled

And sprouting from my psyche.

Looking for meaning

Within the incessant questioning

Why?

Mother’s crying behind bruises

Why?

The flair of fish belly

And the ocean is a barren

Toxic desert

Why?

Work, Class, Love, Work, Class

Through the wrong lens

Liberty is prison

Why?

The hand that once nurtured

Strangles smothers

The flowers are all dead

Why?

It doesn’t get better

We just keep asking

Why?

I Will Not Smile

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My father’s first poem in the last four to five years. I love it. It’s been a hoot to see where this writing is coming from. Thanks for the read, and thanks for the poem Dad!

 

By Ross Silver

 

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,

take your flowery high mindedness

take your justice fairness and kindness

And put it in a sack and drown it in the river

Celebrate cruelty, inequity, victimization, despair

Refute your hypocritical facade

Lay you bear and naked

for all to see

Your grim sadism

You will not fool me anymore

I will not smile today