Papier Mâché Jihad [Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem, February 10, 2012]

Papier Mâché Jihad [Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem, February 10, 2012]

I tend to overthink so I'm not going to settle

for just any path of God while seeking the truth. I want a paranoid

schizophrenic Jihad.

Don't be real. Be a paranoid schizophrenic.

it leads to doubt. Which lessens my faith, Which lessens my lessons,

Which causes paranoid schizophrenic Out of nowhere lessons.

Dear God, I want a paranoid God.

Jihad, I want a paranoid Fear God.

God, I want a paranoid God Jihad.

Fear honesty. Fear illusion. Get over illusion.

If you are not your thoughts,

If you are not getting better then what are you doing?

Jihad.

If your thoughts are not getting better then what are you doing?

Lessons of the Out of nowhere schizophrenic God.

instead of papier mâché Jesus, the Out of nowhere schizophrenic

#Jihad!

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Psychicphrenic Sensitivities [Today's News Poem, March 14, 2011]

Psychicphrenic Sensitivities [Today's News Poem, March 14, 2011]

Every moon has its current.
Only the wisest of schizos acknowledge
It's nerve and it's nervousness.

Every action reacts to the first of all actions:
Explosion, orgasm, whatever you call it
Remember to whimper.

It's not wave, it's not current; it's possible
Is what it is—haecceity—
And nothing could be otherwise.

All the schizos could feel all the nerves
In the earth; they were twitching and bruising
Their knees on the hydrants.

My cat almost died for Japan—
He's connected as well by this feeling of nerves.
His organs unseized and he leaped to my lap

Knowing his death comes much later,
And watched as I watched the tsunami
On teevee, surprised I surprised myself.

I'm laughing. I died in Japan yet I'm typing
A poem. I died in a styrofoam avalanche,
Died in my cradle, died in the ocean;

I died, yet I'm here and the schizos declared it;
They gobbled tobacco and tuned for the station
That everyone hears—it's static: absolute static.

"Japan’s nuclear crisis verged toward catastrophe on Tuesday after an explosion damaged the vessel containing the nuclear core at one reactor and a fire at another spewed large amounts of radioactive material into the air, according to the statements of Japanese government and industry officials."
—HIROKO TABUCHI, KEITH BRADSHER and MATTHEW L. WALD, The New York Times, Published: March 14, 2011
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/15/world/asia/15nuclear.html

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18th Level Cyborg Wizards in 2030 [News Poem April 15, 2010]

18th Level Cyborg Wizards in 2030 [News Poem April 15, 2010]
“Alexander agreed that an attack against America's privately operated power grid, launched from another country but routed through the computers of unsuspecting U.S. citizens, poses difficult questions that the Pentagon and other agencies are trying to answer. ”
–LOLITA C. BALDOR (AP) – 9 hours ago as of 5:33pm PST
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5h02Prpewchnn1skzjV7ISlVz-H3gD9F3J0B80

“A Saudi man asked if he could make magical talisman for his sister who had marital problems. Sibat, in the kingdom on a pilgrimage, said he'd be happy to help... As soon as he hung up, religious police stormed into his room and arrested him for witchcraft. Now Sibat is on death row, sentenced to be beheaded.”
–SCHEHEREZADE FARAMARZI (AP) – 6 days ago, April 15, 2010
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5hQ_jb3NeJqD5cjGvkNxW5Jlje9AwD9EVD3I03

“The deadliest refinery accident since 2005 was described Monday as “more of a fireball than an explosion””
–VICKI VAUGHAN San Antonio Express-News April 5, 2010, 10:39PM
http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/business/6945528.html

Texas City? Simply rookie stuff.
Blew my fucking fingers off—the blast
Spared the middle two. It made me tough.
Certainly important, yet I'm cast—
Featured—yes, for greater deeds I'd say.
Hippies turned to Weathermen before
Selling out to servitude to pay
Conscience off: a poodle can't restore
Its dignity, from ignominity.

The malcontents of prior years—
The madmen, cast to bitter street
Where urban teeth with concrete gears
Would starve and freeze and elsewise eat
The mad—they call us 'master' now.
It's they who beg we spare their minds,
Though once we plead for drugs or chow.
When Lil, or Fred escape, they find
The secrets most of you protect:
My nightmares drain your intellect.

I killed a man for hitting me; this happened long ago—
The hitting, not the killing—he became a football pro.
Before the microchips and internet enhanced my brain
The doctors said “no empathy.” They said I was insane.
This jock? He beat me down in front of class, in college days.
My rage became a pleasure, faked my way through life with praise.
The numbskulls locked me up before I had a chance to strike.
I ran away, I bought my chips and now it's what I like:
I crashed his car then cleared the trace—an accident they said.
I drop the cranes, I kill the lights—and you? Already dead.




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