1. |
Thoughts on Thanksgiving
00:25
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The worst part about the Holidays is that there’s never anything original said. It’s always, Happy Thanksgiving this, Happy Thanksgiving that; I’m thankful for this, I’m thankful for that.
Count me the fuck out.
I’m thankful that YOU weren’t sitting at MY table on Thanksgiving.
Can’t wait for Christmas. Have a holly, jolly cock in your mouth! Maybe that will get you to shut up.
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2. |
Crown of Thorns
00:34
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3. |
where am i going ?
01:48
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4. |
too soon
00:56
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I feel depleted.
I’m 28-years old
stuck sucking up the fumes
of a life deleted.
I thrived and I strived for
mayhem only it came to me
when I least expected it
and the beast surrendered its soul to me
eaten and beaten
I cut through and through to the core
of my own fukking problemssss….
my own demise is coming
I’m beside myself
I’m dying and I’m trying and
I’m deciding but I’m deranged
and you know how that goes
I aim for dementia.
The world was mine::::::
but I bit off its hed
and thus I died
when my time came too late
but now it’s in bed.
But
I slept with the reaper
the grimmest of grins moaning
outta pure unadulterated hate….
I lust for disaster, I desire a temper
tantrum. I live for madness
only the madness
came too soon and too soon
I became a
disaster case.
That’s it I’m sold
to the highest bidder.
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5. |
Don't ask me!
00:58
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6. |
Death of an Artist
00:59
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Oh boredom
holiest of things
I become one with
the virtue of sadness
the vice that is
a lavender painting
I paint with feces
I spit blood at the fishes
& dive into deep space
as a retro, thrummed bass
clicks like a sonic boom
it sounds like an explosion
of dust billowing up
& it’s gone
& I feel pretty dumb
when a fat man plucks the magical plumb
from the tree of infinite wisdom
I feel like
I’m flying
Sometimes
I’m dying
the sky painted in
bright-red streaks of light
yesterday I fainted &
the noises creep up on me
from behind
this paranoid state of being
is pushing me
beyond
this state of consciousness
that lives in
the Garden of Sin
where I go to be
alone
& happy I bathe in
blasphemy
that’s just how I choose
to navigate through
the masses
guided by madness
the bleak sphere
reeks of ashes
& these ashes
scratched in stone…………………….
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7. |
Escape
01:18
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Why do I do this to
myself?
Deprive myself of the necessities
that one must endure if one wants
to live right
& happy——I’m so unhappy.
Another sleepless night
another racked and aching head.
I stare up at the moon as a shiverous
tremor seizes me, holds me tight.
I’m beating myself raw.
I’m screaming for help, but
nobody can hear me over the
ghouls that stream from my
bloodshot eyes.
I’m seeking pleasure, searching every drawer,
throwing clothes across the floor
knocking books off the shelves,
setting fire to my entire home——the fire
blazes bright and alive….
It ripples and thrashes, and the moon
the dark sky
the stars scattered up there so bright and vivid
make me feel oh so scared and alone.
A waking fit, I’m kicking holes in the ceiling.
I’m throwing plates and bowls
across the kitchen floor
they crunch and crack and scatter
and the sound of breaking and smashing
makes me feel like something
like something
but I know I’m nothing—tap-tap-tapping my vein.
I lean back and let myself float away
drift upward and the whole world never felt the same.
Why must I
fight reality so often?
You know, reality is kicking my ass all the time.
You know, no I don’t, and I thrive on escape
I live for internal mayhem
I need escape, and I’m taking it any way
that I can.
Because it’s the only way
out of this place….
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8. |
Blind Skull
00:50
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9. |
Sorry
01:28
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Sorry I don’t paint the walls blue with hope,
but splatter bloody bricks through the windows of destructive art.
Sorry I don’t make you feel good, like everything is oh so wonderful in life and it’s never been better and I’m pushing and pushing through the helpless swamps on my way to be great,
but instead set the swamps on fire and run through the flames naked as Twin Towers everywhere collapse in spurts of smoke and steam and this—this—THIS—is my reason to live.
Sorry I’m not ten-feet tall with a gut full of food and a mind that ruminates relentlessly about the needs of others, and and and—you know—
because I’m selfish and stubborn and yet I’m doing my best to help out others who come my way; but even so your existence doesn’t usually cross my mind unless you’re right there in front of me.
Sorry my poetry doesn’t spin webs of phony prayers of hope and fabricated wonder that brings you joyful tears, but instead
it’s like a submachine gun as the bullets tear into a condemned man and he’s screaming and crying as I pull the trigger….
Trust me, I am good and I’m doing the best I can, and I’m getting better every day I set down one foot after another, and I’m plowing my own way through a shit-filled existence with liars who will cut you down before you step one foot out your door, and I’m living honestly and I give and I give, although you wouldn’t know anything about it because I don’t vocalize my acts of goodness—wait, I just did.
In short: Sorry I’m not a liar.
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10. |
A Shot of Junk
01:36
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11. |
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1.
I need her
she & I
2.
We knocked loose
the orgy of one-thousand nights
We brought forth the
reverberating echo that
raged with rage
So irate the little dove
sat on a kettle drinking
whiskey that poured down through
the funnel of one-thousand spirals
spiraling
down
and out
she & I
We laughed like mania
We frolicked like hysteria
We lived like speed
the lid came on knocked back
and muffled the voices
that threatened to
surge
and rise
This
was our demise.
3.
That girl
the one who came to me
amid my wet nightmare
poking her head up
and out
with a shiny radiance
a smile of luminescence
her image distorted and scary
and I hid behind the walls of
my own personal hell
she & I
we lived like dreams
that kill
and we slayed the demons of shrill
rewound
and spun
the day is done
and we went to bed all wound up
in disease.
4.
Years apart
we died
dying
death
and the wakes of panic
rising
until we came together once again
and the night
we thrived
We lived like panic
like a festering hailstorm
like a train derailed
like a cancerous spiral
spiraling
down
into
destruction
and we lived like thieves
died like urchants
murdered by dreams
and we sat hand-&-hand
as the A-bomb bit dirt, smoke billowing
mushroomed up and over us
5.
And, finally: DEATH
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12. |
Brainstorm
01:28
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i walk at dawn
as the rain trickles
around me
something’s wrong
i feel sick in my own skin
trapped by thoughts of
devilish schemes run away
i have no place finding myself
in madness
the sadness peeks its decrepit head
over the hills
like bloodshot demons’ eyes
falling lost in
a mental holocaust
my world torn apart
life is sometimes too hard
and i need escape from everything
and everyone
they hate me and
i don’t know what went wrong
my center broken
i’m outside myself
all hope gone
i’m running with wolves
they hate me when i turn
the corner
my fate is falling
off
can’t stop, the story
of my life
broken lost & hurting
blank jaded & deserted
it’s no use anymore
just leave me alone
i bite when i’m tested
the water’s not cold enough
in an ocean of disease
in a world of deceased badness
lacking mental stability
needing pills to keep me in line
treading the clouds which
feel soft and comfy and i lie down
and never want to
return
home
again
there’s got to be
a reason
a plan
gimme a hand as i emerge
from beneath the wasted
swimming pool
as i ascend the ladder
into your arms
hold me tight and don’t you ever
let me go
lost in a lucid dream
needing relief
seeking things too twisted
and retched it’s all the same
in the end
and i rack my ugly head
against the beautiful bricks
all at once
hell rises
devours
all things go sour
i’m stuck
in a foreverness
that only gets worse as
time goes on….
let me off this rollercoaster
PLEASE
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13. |
Absurd Nihilism
02:10
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14. |
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15. |
The Bleak Shopping Mall
00:59
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Sitting outside the bleak shopping mall at night watching the stars twinkle in the distance as the daytime lights up the streets like wildfire & cars a riffraff of death & destruction in arms.
There was something special about the aloneness,
but now I find myself towering over townhall from a sharp, stony peak—the sunlight like gunfire, a green yard glowing, voices penetrating the nothingness that is
here
now
I’m alone
I’m dead
I’m alive
but overfed
zeroing in on the NOTHING
A bleak reality
meek existing
dripping pen ink
down the unicorn’s back—
see what I mean?
The bleak shopping mall at war with the junky’s sunken eyeball, the world overrun & deserted….
The bleak shopping mall stands tall above everything else, so derelict & desolate, & I sit there watching as life spreads like a virus. It spreads & devours, the sun murders the beautiful dark heavens.
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16. |
Thoughts on Christmas
00:14
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The downside of Christmas—is there an upside?—is that everyone on this planet is talking about it. No wonder the holidays have the highest suicide rate.
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Jeremy Void Rutland, Vermont
Jeremy Void is the author of 15 books. He lived fast, he fell hard, and he came to with a broken head, a worthless mind, and this devastating ability to paint with words down the page. Line after line, he continues to amaze, devestate, and deviate. With lyrical prose that plow through the airwaves like kamikaze fighter pilots; with poetry that treads a fine line between brilliant and insane.... ... more
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