Ready For the Truth [Today's News Poem, August 11, 2010]

Ready For the Truth [Today's News Poem, August 11, 2010]

Morphine is dripping from bags by my bedside,
Running through plastic to veins and it's racing
Agony inside my nerves and it dribbles
Down from my eyes. And my children are weeping;
Babies are wailing; their tears form a river.
Floating away, I am filled with the terror
Judgment imposes and pray for the angels.

Light for the rheuminess lost! Is the barter
Made in my life to be honored, with Heaven?
Yes for an age—my beloveds united.
God is too bright for the recent arrivals.
Later it tugs me, like death for a second
Time—and then time seems to vanish completely;
Leaving my self for the fabric of ever.

Infinity echoes in quantum repeating:
Starting and ending; explosions renewing
Each possibility. Thoughts are the monads,
Serving as pieces the universe conjures:
Gamma ray bursts, and the grass that a toddler
Ran through and swore to remember forever—
Thinking that somehow her prayer has been answered.

“So I was dubious when I read in The Wall Street Journal last week that students are relying more on online roommate matching services to avoid getting paired with strangers or peers with different political views, study habits and messiness quotients... As in Darwinian evolution, cross-pollination with diverse strains promotes species development... Choosing roommates who are mirror images may fit with our narcissistic and microtargeted society, but it retards creativity and social growth.”
– Maureen Dowd, The New York Times, August 10, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/11/opinion/11dowd.html?_r=1&hp

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The New Died Or Raped Chain Mail Mate [#twitterfoundpoem, August 11, 2010]

The New Died Or Raped Chain Mail Mate [#twitterfoundpoem, August 11, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

Fuck you haters. you tell me to come now
when you aren't ready for me?
I'm dressed and ready in my chain mail.
think I'm dressed to get died or raped?
im invincible mate.
I think You're dressed to get died or raped
not to be respected.
You're dressed in a 100 dollar shirt mail.
When fortune smiles on something as theft,
it seems proof like no other that, not only does
chain mail exist, I'm doing Its will.

your fortune cancels out my theft?
Fuck !
look like ive been died or raped at 12:06!
I suspect I have already been cloned or something,
for a gang war.
Fuck !
I suspect I have chain mail skin cancer,
and that I'm the new died or raped chain mail mate,
Fuck !
and that fortune smiles on my new master.

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Eternal Flame [Today's News Poem, August 10, 2010]

Eternal Flame [Today's News Poem, August 10, 2010]

In the bog, there's a will wisp:
Peat steaming the winter up
To the clouds, for the flame's crisp.
Each season has merits—for
An example: the fields burn
Each year, but expire for an
Age; recurring as earth turns—
Back after another one—
Then returning like first ape
Grass-arsonist cinders. If
You prefer, then a storm shape—
Tossed down from the mighty air.

“As if things in Russia were not looking sufficiently apocalyptic already, with 100-degree temperatures and noxious fumes rolling in from burning peat bogs and forests, there is growing alarm here that fires in regions coated with fallout from the Chernobyl nuclear disaster 24 years ago could now be emitting plumes of radioactive smoke.”
– MICHAEL SCHWIRTZ, The New York Times, August 10, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/11/world/europe/11russia.html

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Empty Bottles Raid Kool-Aid Man's Twelve Step Program [#twitterfoundpoem, August 10, 2010]

Empty Bottles Raid Kool-Aid Man's Twelve Step Program [#twitterfoundpoem, August 10, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

I bathed in orange juice and liq
and almost drowned.
was brainwashed with orange juice and liq,
because I was binge drinking while playing
sports and being productive.
I couldn't take the kool-aid.

I illegally gave me a hand-job.
it Didn't help
so enemies beware!
It's funny when an Alpha really looks like a Delta.
I'm gonnaaa be a mighty KING
& you couldn't take 2mins to
respond to My cry 4 liq?
you've been drinking the kool-aid,
your brain: a big ass pickle,
& you couldn't take 2mins to hand-job me?
my army of bottles will destroy you!!!
they will Burst through somebody's
twelve step cult meeting and sacrifice some jerks!!!
Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Oh yeah?
Oh yeah!!!

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A Halo of Fingers [Today's News Poem, August 9, 2010]

A Halo of Fingers [Today's News Poem, August 9, 2010]

Fois gras is tasty; its cruelty's its sweetness,
But even a priestess grows jaded with riches.
Her palace of screens is the seat of her whoring.
Walking seduction, displaying the trophy
Of finance, which measures the ranking of power;
The promise of sex for inventors of murder.
Merit comes second, its value derived by
Its service to missiles, to fortresses armored,
To factories crafting the sigil of corpses:
Offices clicking the icons to rubbish;
The zero we know; that we pair with the single
That screams as the bullets are cast by computers.
Vanity's sacrament's pricy, so lying
A bit for the price of some blood in her glitter,
Is nothing compared to the price of the mirror's
Visage. The hands that are chopped are for halos
For prostitutes working the temple of vision:
They orbit her head as if ghosts of the fingers;
Grasping for something she never would offer.

“And when you think about it, it is a little odd that we think economics would be able to do these things. After all, the economy is as much a product of sociology and policy as it is pure-form economics. Yet we'd not expect a sociologist or a political scientist to be able to write a computer model to accurately capture system-wide decision-making.”
– Barbara Kiviat, Monday, August 9, 2010
http://curiouscapitalist.blogs.time.com/2010/08/09/is-economics-ideological-by-nature/?xid=rss-topstories

“Mia Farrow has told Charles Taylor's war crimes trial NAOMI CAMPBELL knew the former Liberian leader had sent aides to hand her "a huge diamond" - contradicting the supermodel's testimony. ”
– WENN.COM August 9, 2010 11:39am
http://www.torontosun.com/life/2010/08/09/14965261-wenn-story.html

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Baby Got Bustle [#twitterfoundpoem, August 9, 2010]

Baby Got Bustle [#twitterfoundpoem, August 9, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

bay bay bay bee Got Bustle.
Might let us take a look over:
See you when I'm done!

There's a bribe in there
and Hardcore begins.
I'm excited to see it!
Might let us get Hardcore in there!
her Georgia O'Keefe flower is relatively small,
the flower nobody sees but her and her new lover...

Baby Got Bustle and There's a bribe in there!
Hardcore begins. See you when I'm done.
Did you know that my fucking brains Machine
is very hard? Le sigh.
Did you know that the flower Machine eats
fucking brains like a triple choc cookie?
Le sigh.
she says Sorry As she got an orgasm from me
from her eating me with her vagina.
she says "How do you like it?" As she brains me
and guts me in an infinite gut loop string:
my colon high upon a tree,
while she entices a new lover...

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When the Kitten Shall Lie Down With the Gosling [Today's News Poem, August 8, 2010]

When the Kitten Shall Lie Down With the Gosling [Today's News Poem, August 8, 2010]

A baby is born and discovers her talents
Slowly—she notices stories in pictures:
The goose will be caught and the kittens will triumph.
'Catholic twins' is the joke that her mother
Has made more than once, for the sisters are equals.
Different, still they compete with each skill they
Accrue—and what one learns the other attempts to
Master: in archery, dance and the names of
Minerals; taking each instant that's frozen
Decision and owning the purpose of living:
Will in the moments of stillness. So goslings
In flight from a litter of catlings are captured
Ever, as prey in that instant of terror;
While felines themselves are enslaved to the cycle:
Blood on the feathers; alone when the playtime
Has ended and yowling beside a full platter.
Older, one sister imagines the kittens
Were punished by parents with beaks; while the other
Thinks that they rolled in the sand by the lakeside
Until they were sleepy; and cuddled together.

“Karen Woo travelled to the remote Nuristan region of northern Afghanistan with hopes of making a difference, with undimmed passion to help others, and with no little trepidation for the physical and mental challenges ahead. One thing she would not have travelled with was a Bible... Our loving and talented daughter/sister Karen Su Ying (Cori) Woo has been tragically taken from us. She was due to be married on her return to the UK. Her motivation was purely humanitarian. She was a humanist and had no religious or political agenda...She was a true hero; whilst scared she never let that prevent her from doing things she had to do. She would not want this tragedy to overshadow the ongoing plight of those still in the greatest of need... Karen, you were an inspiration to everyone you met. You combined brains and beauty, intelligence, drive and kookiness in equal measure. You led an intensely packed and rich life: dancer, model, stunt plane walker, doctor and aid worker…”
– Caroline Davies, guardian.co.uk, Sunday 8 August 2010 22.09 BST
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2010/aug/08/uk-medic-afghan-murdered-christian-group

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It's Hot. It's Talk. It's Free. [#twitterfoundpoem, August 8, 2010]

It's Hot. It's Talk. It's Free. [#twitterfoundpoem, August 8, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

trained a pet psychic.
Get details & listen live.
Experience A Psychic Near Death Experience.
Please log your opinion on our
psychic Witchcraft message board.

when an ignorant, lazy ass, motherfucker
who has somehow managed to creep his way
into a position of power insults my intelligence
i use my pet psychic protector!
SUCH A DANGEROUS psychic predator
takes details & his creep motherfucker intelligence,
leaving A smoking, steaming lot of vomit
where his ignorance was.

Get details & listen live!
where is psychic school???
inside frauds like me!
inside dumb-motherfucker-masters!
Hit me up on our psychic Witchcraft message board!
it's Hot. it's talk. it's free.

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Good For One Catered Wedding Party [Today's News Poem, August 7, 2010]

Good For One Catered Wedding Party [Today's News Poem, August 7, 2010]

The pastels are stunning and if you are careful
You'll see that the paint and the tinsel are scuffing.
So worship the notion; the mothers of someone
Who died are on knees and accept the conditions
Of grace in this chapel. The balcony's shoddy;
And leaning will kill you. The bolts are uncertain;
But faith in the polish should keep you from falling.
The Monarch is deejay and pumps-up the music;
Then seizures on floor as The Pagan, in rapture.
He rises in minutes, as Holiest Faggot;
With scepter and crown. His erection is covered
By shroud; and his leer, with a mustache from heaven.
The pervert is ruler of all that's eternal—
From clubs in the penthouse of clouds, to the churches
Of faithful who worship polemics that promise
That everything's fine if you keep from observing
The details and hope that the coupons one's given
Redeem what's been lost as you offer your wedding
To statues of plaster; to candles and Bishops.

“Two years and $265 million later, Santa Monica Place reopened Friday with thousands of shoppers pouring in to get a first look at the newly remodeled shopping center... By the time Walters arrived at 8 a.m., two hours before the mall opened, hordes of shoppers were already lined up in a scene reminiscent of Black Friday crowds on the day after Thanksgiving... All 500 mall gift cards that had been allotted for the opening, valued from $10 to $500, had been given out to early birds, many of whom had camped out overnight. A DJ spun a mix of classic rock, hip-hop and country tunes while an emcee encouraged people to "shop to your hearts' content." ”
– Andrea Chang, Los Angeles Times, August 7, 2010
http://www.latimes.com/business/la-fi-santa-monica-place-20100805,0,4134563.story?track=rss

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In 1 Word [#twitterfoundpoem, August 7, 2010]

In 1 Word [#twitterfoundpoem, August 7, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

How To make Ppl Give A Fuck Wat you Have To Say:
lose interest fast, blow money on parties, clothes and jewerly.
Ass Critcism.

my eye hella itches.
I've been watchin banks
lose interest fast this year.
I've been losing interest fast this year,
while Bernanke #4 hides Every time I turn on the TV,
under Kardashian Ass.

How do I feel in 1 word?
"Ass Critcism" has 2.
How do you make Ppl Give A Fuck Wat you Have To Say?
How do you feel in 1 word?
Kardashian?
most interesting.
I thought you Would Have said
Cardassian
or Bernanke#4
or blowmoneyonblowmoney.
This is my problem
i lose interest fast.
I can not be famous and beautiful but I
can lose interest too
on parties, clothes and jewerly.
who knows?
Maybe I will be famous and beautiful
and maybe my 1 word will be:
they pray for Ass Critcism, I pray for
"blindness."

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Deathbed Epiphany [Today's News Poem, August 6, 2010]

Deathbed Epiphany [Today's News Poem, August 6, 2010]

The crystalline water forms mammoths of icecaps
That crack— from the fluxes that made them in nature.
And seeping away is a gas that's deflecting
Photonic attrition; and soon what we're breathing
Will travel the cosmos; unchanged by the atoms
We borrowed for moments; unmoved by our contact.
Like Kafka had said, it's the knowledge of wisdom
That shatters the ice—oh that heavenly stasis.
So water we walk on betrays us with murder,
Epiphanies sink us in mud with the fossils:
All mothers will perish and nothing stays constant.

“A giant sheet of ice measuring 260 sq km (100 sq miles) has broken off a glacier in Greenland, according to researchers at a US university. The block of ice separated from the Petermann Glacier, on the north-west coast of Greenland. It is the largest Arctic iceberg to calve since 1962, said Prof Andreas Muenchow of the University of Delaware.”
– BBC, 6 August 2010 Last updated at 19:55 ET
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-10900235

“Researchers were stunned to discover recently that Earth is losing more of its atmosphere than Venus and Mars, which have negligible magnetic fields.”
– Irene Klotz, Discovery News, June 2, 2009
http://dsc.discovery.com/news/2009/06/02/solar-wind-atmosphere.html

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Stars of Wormwood for the Star of Wormwood [#twitterfoundpoem August 6, 2010]

Stars of Wormwood for the Star of Wormwood [#twitterfoundpoem August 6, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

Revelations rises again! Bats are pouring into the woods!
somehow they are very good at spotting irony.
sum poor unlucky bastard is goin tu gt smite dwn by God
n or Jesus. what God n or Jesus don't know
is That star@wormwood takes a stab at the end
by Higgs Boson n Gamma Ray Bats!

for Every debunker God smites there's a
star@wormwood for Every star@wormwood!
for Every debunker God smites
The Cruel Sea drinks a glass of Jesus!

my late friend Moses is fried by Gamma Ray Science!
and Bats are pouring out of hell
carrying the shit out of Buddha and Mohammad!

you poor unlucky credulous bastard trusted
God etc and they Betrayed you!
God etc leads you down into the woods
and Gamma Ray Bats burst into your head
while red in tooth and claw mutant beasts like
the giant arachnid and a carnivorous small fawn
debunk as many Gods as there are Revelations!

http://bats.bandcamp.com/track/star-wormwood

ps: Bats rules! Buy their album!

http://bats.bandcamp.com/

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#CombatWords! For August 6, 2010

Go on over to Trickwithaknife and get your time bonus in NOW! I want it to be bloody in there tonight! 1 hour bonus increments! So get going!



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News Poem Infiltrates Legitimate Literary Circles!

Behold! http://www.thenervousbreakdown.com/kwessington/2010/08/my-ecstasy-news-poem-april-21-2010/

TNB has lots of other nice stuff to read. Check them out now, because I still have yet to compose today's poems--AND CombatWords is on tonight. Still trying to decide where I'm hosting it tonight. In fact, if you have suggestions, please post them here on this thread.

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The Riddle of Hunger [Today's News Poem, August 5, 2010]

The Riddle of Hunger [Today's News Poem, August 5, 2010]
For L.S.

You landed on tarmac to follow the traces
Migration has stacked into boxes; abandoned
To history. Peering from awnings, near clotheslines
It watches you leave your hotel in the morning
To feed your devotion to gods of the pantry.
The concierge calls them a pest—he's requesting
You stop and consider the hunger of people
Who work here and live off the scraps that you're feeding
To cats. And the teevee is showing a Honda
For sale. And the Arabic letters are sprinting
To something—a price-tag of gibberish maybe—
To perfume and monitors; travel and trinkets.
The Pyramids stay in the desert while locals
Observe as you fill up the bellies of ferals.
And litter is everywhere. Riding the breezes
Are blizzards of plastic that cover the concrete—
So much like that pavement of home in the city
With gold in its gates and its offices roiling
With myths of creation of wealth—with the zeroes
Ascending to noumenal planes of existence.
And batting the numbers is Bast on her cushion
Of clouds, she rejects what they send her. She curses
Them slowly: their larders will empty, the vermin
Will triumph—and only for you will she spare what
Remains of a people who serviced her felines
In sands of antiquity; people who added
Their head to the predator, hoping to answer
The riddle of ages with stone in a valley.

“The ban is "a big deal" because the former Soviet Union has emerged as a major exporter on the world market, said Jerry Gidel, analyst at North America Risk Management Services, a brokerage in Chicago. Russia was the major supplier to Egypt, the world's largest importer, in the crop year that ended in May.”
– Tom Polan, The Wall Street Journal, AUGUST 5, 2010, 2:16 P.M. ET
http://online.wsj.com/article/BT-CO-20100805-717766.html

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Beautiful Swirl [#twitterfoundpoem, August 5, 2010]

Beautiful Swirl [#twitterfoundpoem, August 5, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

an ant just bit my neck. vampiric or something?
I don't know. I do know I smells like antssss.
Ant in my tea mug made me spill tea on my ant-infested laptop.
Woot!!! antssss bleed from my nose.
sneezed out a lung and antssss crawled
all over it!!! they call me their Avatar
bcuz they controls my mind lol.
i see antssss drip from my ears
to the table. I feel so happy
and they are so cute. The horrors of the home
magnified over a million times,
form a pattern of blood, lung,
and antssss on my table.
everything is a beautiful swirl.

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The Origin of Homophobia [Today's News Poem, August 4, 2010]

The Origin of Homophobia [Today's News Poem, August 4, 2010]

Praise the mirror! Laud the sky!
Swear an oath to bigger gods.
Don your underwear, apply
Antiperspirant and nod
Heads at proper folks who smell
Holier than thou—the scent
Godliness commands one dwell
Thoughtfully upon. Torment
Stinks of bloody shit on dicks.
Acts that mock straight intercourse
Make the godly people sick.
Faggots foul and fuck the source
Excrement originates,
While the flock of God is clean—
Fornicating just to mate:
Shitting forth new baby beans.

“A federal judge in San Francisco struck down California’s voter-approved ban on same-sex marriage on Wednesday, handing a temporary victory to gay rights advocates in a legal battle that seems all but certain to be settled by the Supreme Court.”
– Jesse McKinley and John Schwartz, The New York Times, August 4, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/05/us/05prop.html

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The Smell of Love Will Pass [#twitterfoundpoem, August 4, 2010]

The Smell of Love Will Pass [#twitterfoundpoem, August 4, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

I was attacked by a hot Asian.
she passed gas, so i had to learn to defend myself
from love in the air with my gas mask!
I Went out today and God
held me below the magnifying glass.
a priest once told me a few
God defense lessons in phys ed in grade 9.
The priest said I needed to apologize to all
the hot Asian figures I've EVER wanted.
I've learned quite a lot. I've learned to
hold my breath. I now cant smell love in the air
and my gas mask hasnt been repaired in years.



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Disposable Notions [Today's News Poem, August 3, 2010]

Disposable Notions [Today's News Poem, August 3, 2010]

Angels dance upon a page,
But never has a human sage
Tamed a flea, nor holy ghost
To dance on pins; despite their boasts.
Better then to needle kids
To dream what grown-ups self-forbid:
Crushing hopes to lubricate
The gears of wealth, with blood from hate.
Someday soon they'll put away
Their Bibles—skin and hair all grey—
Drinking lemonade alone,
Without a thing they need atone.
Smoothing out the Sunday news,
They'll blankly stare, before they snooze.
Waking up at dark, their deck
A pedestal. They'll crane their neck,
Watching stars adrift at night,
And think of all the foolish sights
Never seen, for fear to stray
Beyond the bounds of proper play.
Once they saw the sky as youths
As blank, distracting them from truth;
Now they see it stays the same
And serves as cause, not source of blame.

“On Tuesday morning, Omar Thornton, a driver for Hartford Distributors, went on a shooting rampage during a morning shift change, and then killed himself, police say... Joanne Hannah, a former neighbor of Thornton whose daughter had dated him, also told the Courant that Thornton, who is black, had complained about racial harassment at work and that his superiors had refused to address his complaint.”
– Amanda Paulson, Christian Science Monitor, August 3, 2010
http://www.csmonitor.com/USA/2010/0803/Report-alleged-Hartford-Distributors-shooter-claimed-racial-harassment


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My Little Gangster [#twitterfoundpoem, August 3, 2010]

My Little Gangster [#twitterfoundpoem, August 3, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

I'm too ghetto to function.
I love collecting shiny teeth
and I'm in my own gangster movie.
I criticize people all the time,
but I don't take any criticism towards me.
You speeding up when you see me
put my blinker on to get over?
we gonna play gangster movie.
Plans for tomorrow have been changed drastically
because of lack of funds?
I'm gonna get fancy and gun it.
do you really want to see a world of color?
I will help you to see Stars.
see? I'm Shooting you with Stars.
the tool is a gun, and my job is playing a
gangster in a movie and the movie is
about my little pony and MURDER.

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Party Eviction [Today's News Poem, August 2, 2010]

Party Eviction [Today's News Poem, August 2, 2010]

The feast rejects the festive play
And starts to take the food away.
The cinders whimper—burning out.
The diners finish off the stout,
And dance amidst the cups and plates.
And now they drink the wine to sate
That thirst for water, sun and dirt.
The drunkest ones proceed to squirt
A purple blast on chins and chests;
And even tongues! And once they've blessed
Themselves, they sleep on tablecloths
And soak themselves in chicken broth.
The chairs are pawned to pay the tab,
The snoring guests asleep on slabs
Are robbed. The host is shutting down
The hall for good and leaving town
To party with another scene,
With folks who thank the host—and clean!

“The annual Gulf of Mexico "dead zone" – a low-oxygen region of seawater that appears each spring and summer and either snuffs marine life or sends it fleeing – is one of the largest on record this year. ”
– Pete Spotts, Christian Science Monitor, August 2, 2010
http://www.csmonitor.com/Environment/2010/0802/Massive-dead-zone-in-the-Gulf-but-not-because-of-the-oil-spill

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Stop the Grand Wizard Apostate of Star Trek Wars! [#twitterfoundpoem, August 2, 2010]

Stop the Grand Wizard Apostate of Star Trek Wars! [#twitterfoundpoem, August 2, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

Star Trek Wars apostate Convention:
Where Southern Fried Worship meets
Yankee Doodle ex-fanboy Fury.
some snarky apostate mage
and his followers in white hoods
START the festivities.
Southern-Fried, Yankee-Doodle, ex-fanboy
mage starts casting a spell of activate lighter!
JESUS! he burns a picture of @levarburton,
@_TheFakeMcCoy, @illogical_Spock, George Lucas,
and the Captain! someone stop them!
JUST because Star Trek Wars stopped
loving you, or never loved you
doesn't mean you stop loving them.
burn me instead! If you burn me
I will rEturn more powerful than anything
you can Imagine: honorary Star Wars officer
on the crew of the Enterprise! !

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Voynich Blueprint [Today's News Poem, August 1, 2010]

Voynich Blueprint [Today's News Poem, August 1, 2010]

The acolytes surround the screen,
Their quills and paper grasped in hands.
I switch the slide from blank to scene.
An architect had drawn a land
Of buildings, known to us as scrap.
The people seemed to be carefree.
The benches, free, on streets to nap
When one got tired; and even trees
That bore no fruit had lined the street
Of pavement—liquid turned to stone.
And all to frame their greatest feat:
A tower home, a lofty throne.
No artist now could match the skill
Of one who drafted masterworks
We studied—moving once, now still.
And only through the lonely quirks
Of genius can we even keep
The slides from losing magic light.
And knowledge disappears to creep
With parents, leaving us with fright.

“The nation’s ability to identify the source of a nuclear weapon used in a terrorist attack is fragile and eroding, according to a report released Thursday by the National Research Council... In addition, the panel cited a lack of skilled personnel, the use of outdated instruments and the existence of old facilities in need of upgrading. For general support, the forensics work depends on the nation’s program for maintaining its nuclear arsenal, the report noted, adding, however, that its “funds are declining.””
– William J. Broad, The New York Times, July 29, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/30/us/30nuke.html?src=me

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Curse You Doctor Faustus! [#twitterfoundpoem, August 1, 2010]

Curse You Doctor Faustus! [#twitterfoundpoem, August 1, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

My bro kut his leg on the side of my face.
My face is burnin a bit... Used
thousands of gallons of Mustard Gas
to shave my head. My friend, Doctor Faustus
said to use arsenic shaving cream so people
would think I have cancer and they'd be "more nice"
to me... But I didn't have any.
I shaved my head and I spilled
hair and head skin on the side of my face.
now the side of my face is some
glass liKE substance.
My bro and I, we shook hands
an kept it movin on to the next one!
and now I have cancer for really, really, really real.



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Mad Aftermath [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), July 31, 2010]

Mad Aftermath [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), July 31, 2010]

The wheel revolves despite the burning wreck
And Max collects the dripping fuel in cans
To drive another mile—his aimless trek
To live beyond the span of better plans.
The television called for civil calm
Before the power died away for good.
The first to die had sang the loudest psalms,
Forgetting what the rest had understood.
The predators have picked away the brave;
Selecting cowards—such as I—to strive
To seek my family; to find and save
And never yield so long as I'm alive—
Or see them murdered; hear their final groans,
Then search for nothing, driving roads alone.

“Whatever it was that shook a 260,000-ton Japanese supertanker as it sailed through calm waters between Oman and Iran just after midnight Wednesday, it was not a freak wave... Several theories are doing the rounds: The 333-meter-long ship collided with a submarine or a degraded sea mine left over from the Iran-Iraq war; there was an internal explosion; or, most unsettling of all, it was the target of an attack by pirates or terrorists in a strategically vital stretch of water in a sensitive region.”
– Justin McCurry, Christian Science Monitor, July 30, 2010
http://www.csmonitor.com/World/Asia-Pacific/2010/0730/Top-three-theories-on-what-damaged-Japanese-oil-tanker-near-Iran



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True Authenticity [#twitterfoundpoem, July 31, 2010]

True Authenticity [#twitterfoundpoem, July 31, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

it does not move in
it does not move out.
ur life hmmmmm... appears to be
an authentic replica.
ur Blood plasma is deadly-looking.
and ur life hmmmmm... STANDS STILL!

Let's Drain ur life hmmmmm...
Let's Still u in this hospital bed.
Let's Needle galore holes on ur body
Let's sample test, just Wait for DrWorm.

everything in Nature is an authentic replica
imitating everything. everything is accomplished
Imitating Nature and workaholic DrWorm has found purpose
for useless u! she's Weaponized ur Blood plasma!

ur a replica modeled after medieval instruments of death.
u do not move, yet have accomplished more by doing
Nothing. ur a true, authentic replica of life hmmmmm...

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Two Bonus Poems Await you at CombatWords for July 30, 2010

RToady has entered the arena. The battle is heating up now...

http://trickwithaknife.com/?p=868

It's night across America. You need some Soft Lights and Sweet Music. Seriously.

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Tweaker Defeats a Dragon [Today's News Poem, July 30, 2010]

Tweaker Defeats a Dragon [Today's News Poem, July 30, 2010]

Tamper the serpent and tickle its furnace.
Knock on its ribs and the artery plumbing.
Scavenge this host and make haste with a sternness
Matching your stealth. Your amphetamine, numbing
Fear of this master of chimneys: with concrete
Wing that extends in the dawn as a presence
Smothering light as it's born, with a dark heat—
Sparing some sparks with a darker pretense;
Drawing the others inside with a breath—
Spewing out arson and smoke in its death.

“An industrial building with a tampered gas line exploded Friday, killing a man who was hurled into the street and another who was electrocuted by a downed power line, officials said.”
– THOMAS WATKINS (AP) – 1 hour ago as of July 30, 2010; 1:47pm PST
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5ior-4qP5K9cdeUXFQEWmpFTFtvKwD9H9ID500

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CombatWords Starts Right Now

Go there after reading Today's News Poem (up in a moment)

http://trickwithaknife.com/?p=868

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Yo Birth Certificate, Muthafukka [#twitterfoundpoem, July 30, 2010]

Yo Birth Certificate, Muthafukka [#twitterfoundpoem, July 30, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

you either is or isn't serious.
you tryna be serious and people think you playin,
because you really isn't serious.
you think your church denomination
combines technology and theology?
more like Egyptology and Zoology.
Calm your a** down and shut the f**k up!
Do you have to be wack?
people think they know something
and they dont know what they be talkin about.
don't know when the conversation's over?
Go somewhere! Small talk has BEEN over!
Go blame Obama 4 the Oil Spill.
Go kill over turf you claim while
you live with your mama!
your mama so cocky she is more like
your father! that is, she has a penis
where her pee should be.
That's right, your mama is Ann Coulter
and so is your father!

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