THE WHOLE WORLD IS on facebook/ #FlyAway:

THE WHOLE WORLD IS on facebook/ #FlyAway:

Do you think I am not testing you?
Please think again.
Don't stop thinking, don't you...
DARE!

*I glare*

Why did you stop?
Who told you to?
Who said I was done with you.

I haven't found your button yet...
To restart your brain.
You maybe thought, you had me all figured out.
Well sir,
I call you INSANE.

A first impression is good.
But I bet things have changed,
since you looked away.
I'll give it one more day...
You'll come back to me...
You'll revise your opinion, just wait and see.

Or forever be called a fool.

Don't just BLINDLY drop your thought's, in the thinking pool.
But don't stay silent either.
Even the mute, now holds a pen, in the information age.
But only the brain dead,
writes more than one page...No, book
per day.

I wonder what they say...
While I CONTEMPLATE, every single word.

Does that sound absurd?
Well I'm a poet sir,
what did you expect.

Intelligence is dying fast, should I...
give in and neglect,
the gaping flesh...
Staring at me, while the wound is fresh.

NEEDS medical attention.

Your brain was send to detention,
but your oppressor did not drop your faces in a book.
No the proffesor presents you with a timeline
on facebook.

I know I used this word as just a hook.

I'm sorry Virge I borrowed your style,
I hope you can lend it to me for a while.

But when I've got so much to say,
must I tweet them down.
Or let them #FlyAway

Happy New Year.

New Years Eve was like a fun couch-surfing party to me.
I met up with some nice people over Facebook, who I actually only vaguely knew.
I wrote some mad poetry, watched some gaming videos, smoked a few joints and shared my rum with the rest of the guests.
We got served some flaming hot and spicy macaroni and some traditional Dutch new years food.

My poems are collectively called "the guests at the party".
They are fictional stories, inspired by the evening, but grossly exaggerated.
There are four in total, each with their own individual title as well.

#1
Blame the Cat:

I am Cat Lady, living online.
I wonder if his friends will come over tonight as well.
I hear the drunken chatter and some fireworks in the background.
I see someone tripping balls on my couch.
"I want to meet you too", she typed on the dating chat, it earns 15 cents for every line I get back.
I am Cat Lady, living online.

I pretend that he says all the same sweet things that they do.
I feel like I do all the work around the house.
I touch the world through a Wifi window.
I cry when I think of where the baby has to grow up.
I am Cat Lady living online.

I understand the learning channel has a new series about celebrities.
I say something dirty and everybody jumps right on top of it.
I dream of living in a much bigger house next years new years eve.
I try not to inhale the smoke from the weed that is getting passed around here.
I hope neighbors don't shoot one of those firework bombs through our window.
I am Cat Lady, living online.

#2
Just as crazy without me:

I am LOLing the net, avoiding all the madness.
I wonder what time it is.
I hear nothing over my headset.
I see the flashes of the festive warfare outside my game room window.
I want to improve my type reflexes.
I am LOLing the net, avoiding all the madness.

I pretend new year isn't as important as improving one more level.
I feel a light cramp in my clicking hand, it isn't bleeding yet.
I touch the near to live game-play.
I cry, when the midnight toast, breaks me away from my game.
I am LOLing the net, avoiding all the madness.

I understand the algorithms.
I say am trolling everybody and I cook up some mad spice.
I dream of making more ingame money, but the bills are stacking up.
I try to beat the highest ranking, I know I have the strength.
I hope the Cat doesn't jump up on my keyboard.
I am LOLing the net, avoiding the madness.

#3
Alien in the city:

I am the comedian who stays silent.
I wonder when the people on the TV will do something funny.
I hear barely any fireworks over the laughter.
I see highbrow comedy, in the world all around me.
I want to understand why the same joke is funny every time.
I am the comedian who stays silent.

I pretend I'll have something to add to the conversation later.
I feel that almost anything will make them laugh.
I touch the same funny drugs, but they don't let me say something witty.
I cry because the next generation is an even dumber monster.
I am the comedian who stays silent.

I understand little off what these strangers say.
I say one line, but it goes unheard.
I dream of mating with their woman, am I trying to preserve my species.
I hope that Cat stops doing these funny things, that end up on the Internet.
I am the comedian who stays silent.

#4
Pompous Prick:

I am a walking wallet, with a tie and a suit.
I wonder if I laugh hard enough when the laugh-track plays.
I hear simple questions, but I'm the only one who answers.
I see crime in black-face on the television, another normal holiday.
I want another drink, there is a toast at midnight.
I am a walking wallet, with a tie and a suit.

I pretend I have class and style.
I feel a tingling in my brain, I pick up on things "so fast".
I touch the Cat when I try to flick the ash of the joint. "That was an accident!"
I cry because I can't actually read anything without my glasses.
I am a walking wallet, with a tie and a suit.

I understand what is so funny about this comedy show. Don't I?
I say that I miss my old car, it was so much bigger and made more noise.
I dream of climbing the ranks and shooting zombies.
I try not to think about it, but everyone around me is so stupid.
I hope god forgives me in the new year, it is about time he did.
I am a walking wallet, with a tie and a suit.



Mood: Feeling witty and ironic!
Music: Look Who's Laughing Now - Be My Enemy

Teen angst isn't really my cup of tea.

Teen angst.

I heard you slit your wrist and bragged about it.
One time found your self esteem
and on the same day drowned it.
Recite Shakespeare for the melancholy
Don't confess to loving twilight, because your sorry
that you don't have any better taste.
Call your whole life a waste,
but still confess your torment on the net.
Poetry that gets stale, after the first couplet.
Misery and heartbreak, we've all heard before.
Recycled song lyrics and metaphors.
Verses that get stuck in your head and sound like the mainstream lame.
(And) every night you fold your hands and pray for fame.
Just suck my dick and get over it.
Cause you're in my way you retard nitwit.
That gold star is mine, you lame fat hoe
Forget your teen angst and stop stealing my show.
Yes, I know what your thinking, did I have to be so mean.
Do I have to rag on the artistic merits of a simple teen.
Must I steep so low to get some attention.
Well just look at what she wrote, convince me of my misapprehension.

Petite teenage girl shows her boobs

Where is you shame?
You turn on your web-cam and browse on chat roulette,
waving your wiener around at a little 13 year old girl from Australia.

And then you hop on trough, to the porn sites.
Where you look for scantily clad young ladies,
from all around the world,
who have no more shame to lose.

After that,
you surround your self with some jerk-offs, on a fan-fiction website.
With poets and writers who put literature to shame.
Who use dirty words to get some attention.

Bob hits his wife (A poem about escalation with two different endings)

When I preform this poem I actually read the first part twice. (once for every ending.)
It is a cautionary tale, about what our choices can lead to.



Bob hits his wife:

she sighs an awkward silence,
he growls a rooted violence.
she throws around her nasty words,
that he pretends he hasn't heard.

option 1
she lashes out in cries and screams,
he presents to her his newfound dreams.
and comforts her in open arm.
inviting, loving and warm.

option 2
she lashes out in cries and screams,
his anger rises to extremes.
he hits her hard upon the head.
she bleeds, she falls....she's dead.

I am music unheard, I am poetry on unseen forums.

I am raising my sanity and procrastinating.
I wonder about what music really is.
I hear people talking and machines grinding and just start tripping balls.
I see bright colors running trough my emotions.
I want to preserve this feeling.
I am raising my sanity and procrastinating.

I pretend every day that I feel as good as now.
I feel worthless and neglected at the same time.
I touch the edge of my mind and fear I'll tip over.
I cry when I think of falling down there, I don't want to die like that.
I am raising my sanity and procrastinating.

I understand that my thoughts are never really popular.
I say that I am an artist.
I dream about a bigger audience.
I try to write all of my feelings down.
I hope I can one day shed my fear of dying unheard.
I am raising my sanity and procrastinating.

Mood: Productive
Music: Soundgarden black hole sun.

Scared little boy, scarred man. I am.

I am drowsy yet wide awake.
I wonder if it has anything to do with the new medication I take.
I hear a buzzing in the silence.
I see dancing shadows on the walls.
I want to feel alive again.
I am drowsy yet wide awake.

I pretend that my heart isn't crying for a cigarette.
I feel as if my world is crumbling.
I touch my chest to hear the beating of my heart.
I worry that I might not make it.
I cry because I'll have so little to leave behind.
I am drowsy yet wide awake.

I understand so little of the path in front of me.
I say farewell to the future all to often.
I dream that someday the past will stop haunting me.
I try to move away from all my fears.
I hope to really catch some sleep tonight.
I am drowsy yet wide awake.