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Philosophistication Poetry (Logo)


Poetic avalanches and a lack
of talking about unmanned
surveilling Apaches, like Tai Chi
masters we fail to fight against
those who violate our lives, can’t
cross the lines when you’ve never
learnt how to read between the
lines while snorting on punchlines,
puns shade out the truths hidden
in these words, the pen pukes
out the dragon’s breath, the earth
quakes and babies are vaccinated
with UV rays, the path walked on
is too damp not to drown in, superpowers
governed by real estate junkies,
while Africans are made assets
that can be sold and bought
for oil barrels, taught to smile
at the investor promising bridges
on places with no ridges, it’s modern
sorcery, words causing casualties,
then blame the angry civilian causing
anarchy, it’s the vaccination of lowlives,
supply more tools to make the peoples
more receiving, welcoming devils
spitting politricks, it’s trick or treat,
knock on Africa’s pyramid and wreck
the continent’s cultural sentiments,
it’s radioactive iodine injected into
these rusted faucets of steel,
it’s 5G or whatever it is, it’s Bill
Gates or whoever it may be, proof
is the big brother is babysitting
the orphaned poor hungry kids,
media is adrenaline spitting,
skiing on our mindsets, panic
implanted in heads, while special
kids recommend disinfectants in veins,
this lifetime is in vain, who is next
to be in the statistics list, states are
headless chickens clucking with no
heads to lead the way, it’s a good day
to stay in your one roomed shack,
celebs preaching staying indoors cause
we’re all in this as one, are you in
the mansion or a shack, domestic
violated women, men threatening to
murder the wife and the kids,
respect the Thanos in those muddy
prisons, hurt in that enclosed heart,
while the hut seems too small for
warfare, economies are pitiful
to be seen as coming back up again.

Funerals, the dead accompanied
by one leaf plucked from the family tree,
it’s a saddening sight, you can’t blink
without mourning, politicians balling,
World Banks granting debts waiting
for the debt collection, policies
to be enforced, watch the ball
rolling, the poor are in the hot waters,
soldiers abusing normal citizens,
suburbs are ignored, the savages
are in the ghetto pilgrimage, it’s a beautiful
sight of silence from the bird’s eye;
of a trained parrot staying in
those suburban trees, can’t bare to look
when soldiers are clapping families
walking from grocery stores, are we
back to the slaveships, drowning before
reaching onshore, it’s saddening to see,
the assumption is that most governments
will become military regimes, it’s an
inevitable scene, starving some ghetto
kids is not a sin, it’s mere economics
nothing personal to see, give to Ceasar
what belongs to Ceasar even if he
keeps hiding the funds in an enclosed palm,
corruption here is imminent, some
dying from hunger and mere poverty,
the cameras look away when it’s too
dark or too vivid for an investor’s iris,
though it seems as peaceful, it’s
warfare, it’s drugged doctors
silenced with an overdose of morphin,
slaves drowning with no fins,
it’s an Adventure time, hey Fin
who’s the bad guy, Lemongrab: it’s
the tears of the sun, the truth is too
hidden to describe, it’s speculation
and David Icke gaining likes, who’s the
one who’s right, social media posts
bring headache instead, can the
truth be manmade or a transcendental
symbol or sign, offerings and tithes
even though behind the pulpit there’s
no one spitting out holy ghost fires,
murder she wrote, is this Gaia expressing
hate towards the human scum.

Sling my sanity back into my skull,
what’s true poetry without bravery,
no biases, no ambiguity, it’s mere
truth with no siding using speculations
from speechless kindreds; those
searching for likes on those twitter streets,
is this Hades’ winning streak, or
mere plagues manifesting in this
time, who’s the ninny following
the darkness, consciousness won’t
show you what’s hidden behind this
scary biology, hating on politicians
won’t reveal the actual politricks,
who’s right when the truth can be
a thousand things at once, pounce
the book of truth, maybe the ink
will leak out and tell us the truth
on a new canvas, these times are
merely rambunctious.
Read between the lines, read
between the timelines, 1820,
1920, 2020; what’s new about our
timeline, maybe Nostradamus
told us about these signs and symbols
or it’s merely coincidental, the
rigor mortis, the death of the mere
man, pray to the Cherubim the
Seraphim the Jesus imagery the
Mohammed compass directory,
or the reasons in your puns.
Read between the bloodlines!

By Eugene ‘Philosophisticater’

Artwork by Tomasz Alen Kopera

Philosophistication Poetry © All Rights Reserved ©

Big Brother •Solving The Enigma•

Have you ever wondered about who wonders about your wandering. Here’s a chance for you to be the one who wanders through my wonder about those who wonder about how we wander.

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