Alien Voicemail

Miss Cyrus,
we have called to congratulate you

on your brilliant plan.
The Humans never even saw it coming

and it is all thanks to your super bowl concert of 2021.
It was a marvelous idea of Lord Bieber,

to make the broadcast mandatory and viral.
We wouldn't want to repeat that horrible event,

with the egg-head rebellion in 2017.

4 years it took us,

to deplete the intelligence of the humans back to zero,

we have lost a lot of harvest opportunities because of that.

Now miss Cyrus, you can start the operations,

as we've discussed.
Command your army of brainless drones

and tell them to start the orgies.
The transport can start as soon as the clinics are stocked.

You can deduce your payment,

of 500 fetuses per month of off the proceeds
and again Miss Cyrus, 

congratulations on your first planetary domination.

For the glory of our lord Deutronius,
end of transmission.

Black sludge, drips from the pen, onto the canvas.

Daily words 03.05

paint it black
now darker.
This is a painting with no colors,
only depth.

backs hurt and bottles broken.
Words used like weapons,
but they can't stop the war.
As they fall upon deaf ears.

The cockroaches are the ones who survive the bombs.
They greedily swarm the defecated lands.
But I don't think they give anything back to it.

"So you want to be a writer?
Then what is your cause?"
You don't just climb on top that podium,
just for the applause.

I'm standing on the rooftop, ready to fall.
All my compassion has dried from my tear glands,
I feel like I have no empathy left to give.
I invited the world into my heart,
it stabbed me and stole my wallet.

I'm standing on the rafters, where I give an echoing applause,
to your four words strung together, over the course of a month drinking.
The silence, when I grab the microphone, has my heart sinking.
It might have taken me less then half an hour,
but I'm standing here with a written part of my soul exposed.

Help?!
I'm a social warrior on Tumblr, but nobody takes my causes serious
and my head-mates are telling me, it's because I'm backing the wrong team.
But isn't a starving thin white man more privileged then a fat black woman?

Funny how nobody feels grateful to be alive,
not even if they are born with a golden spoon in their mouth.
Probably because tiffany's parents fed her daughter,
with a spoon made platinum engraved with crystals and because she got the Iphone5,
3 days before me.

Timmy is also an ungrateful whiner, it's not our fault you get bullied over those shoes.
They're worn out and ugly.
Why don't you just ask your alcoholic father for some new ones.
Just make sure you hide his belt and take five steps back, so you can have a running start.

Last time I called you all suckers at the end of my poem and everybody laughed,
at how I dared to call my own mother a Christian whore.
I'm sorry for being so inconsiderate last time,
it won't happen any more.

letting go of old ideas at the start of a new month.

I am stagnant water, crumbling under pressure.
I wonder what I'm good at.
I hear they like my poetry.
I see only my failures, no victory's
I want to change my attitude.
I am stagnant water, crumbling under pressure.

I pretend I lead a rich life, richer every day.
I feel the joy in kissing a lover.
I touch her velvet skin and luscious curves.
I cry the blues of a poor fellow, down on his luck.
I am stagnant water, crumbling under pressure.

I understand my shortcomings, yet I am clueless of my virtues.
I say to never promise, promises that I'll surely break.
I dream of answers and stability.
I try to scrape the pieces of my life together.
I hope the force of love will keep me strong.
I am stagnant water, crumbling under pressure.

The witch who wanted to play god.

"They come alive." She says, as she strikes the paper with her brush, redefining painting.
Anna has a lot of imagination and her drawings are amazing .
They seem to come alive, when the light hits them in the right way.
She defines new species of creatures, almost every day.
She sits in her room drawing a new world, a new planet, a new earth.
She's fed up with this ugly world, 
it's time for a rebirth.

Close the world, txen eht nepO.

connected online / lost in translation

If you do not understand every line in this poem, do not panic...
You will still have understood the message this poem is trying to project.

Are you connected?

Zijn we verbonden?

Can we connect?

Kun je verbinding vinden?

do you understand the words that I project?

Versta je wat ik zeg? kun je je er aan binden?

What is it, that binds these feelings that we have?

Wat kan het toch zijn, dat onze gevoelens verbind?

How do I attach the words to describe, this fixation on our attraction?

Hoe bevestig ik de woorden, die mijn fixatie beschrijft, voor onze aantrekkings kracht?

Can you conferm this unison, this link between us?

Kun je dit bevestigen? Dit verband die wij hebben? Deze relatie tussen ons?

Er is een sterk verband tussen ons.

There is a strong connection between us.

Wij kunnen ons goed met elkaar verbinden.

There is a good connection between us.

Ik versta je luid en duidelijk en kan mij binden aan wat je zegt.

I Read you loud and clear and can bind myself, to what you are trying to express.

Ik kan me koppelen aan de gevoelens die jouw woorden projecteren.

I can attach myself to the feelings, that your words project.

De aantrekkingskracht die ons zo fixeert, heeft geen woorden nodig,
om onze aaneenschakkeling te beschrijven.

The attraction that we are focussing ourselves upon, does not need words,
to describe the link between us.

We kunnen altijd nog de relatie tussen ons bezegellen.

We could always seal up our relationship...

Wacht dacht je van een kus?

Lain has logged out, she has severed the connection, she has sealed up your association.

Lain is uitgelogged, ze heeft de verbinding verbroken, de relatie verzegeld.
 
How about a kiss?
Lain, are you still there?
Are you still there, hello Lain?

Erotic business in the church :D

Say priest, what do you think you're doing?:


I feel lost,
Parched and hungry.
While I crash upon the soil and gaze at your stature.
I lose my mind, feel like I'm dreaming.

Feed me with your kisses.
Saturate me with your love juice.
fiery and un-extinguishable,
like a forest fire on a draft.

from the dessert of depression,
did you became my saving grace.
In a expression of passion,
she dangles from my fishing pole.

Two shapes make one new.
A new language, spoken in tongues,
from the squeals that escape us.
Songs of passion, that won't normally get sung in church.

I fold my hands and make a last prayer,
before I blow my load.
Stand up my child, we have been saved.
Now hurry to your confessions, or god will be mad at us.

Daily words 28.1

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NAnjmvtKRNI
http://youtu.be/NAnjmvtKRNI

Daily words 28.1
poetry
pornography
graffiti decorations, run with roses.
they want to know the answers,
and open up our minds.

My journal,
is void of relationships.
I never say goodbye,
I sneak away in silence.

Chatroom 511
monsters and scars
in the end, it doesn't really matter how hard you try.
Time is worth nothing.
Plays magic tricks with his friends money and love.

She knew who I was.
But never got to know me.
Couldn't even be bothered to,
too busy playing with my heart.

My mind has been misrepresented.
In the wrong organs and the wrong light.
I gave up the fight.

like the moon shining with the light of the sun.
maybe some day I'll be like you too
live on other people's energy.
Now I sit by myself.
You took the best of me, cast a cloud of shadows around me. please go away?

Phantom-326.
I am a number not a name.
I am a bank account not a person.
The memories are like pictures, they remind me of nothing more significant, than the pose that was popular that year.
I don't deserve a brain, Hopsin please take it.

You are mainstream like the hipsters,
I washed up on the shore.
poetry rhymes,
so Christianity made my mom a whore.

Identity is wrong.
Individualist are outcasts.
So when they see the edges,
they crawl back into the barrel.

They are missing out on the party I was giving on the outside.
But I miss the company.
Maybe next time I'll incorporate corporate ideas.

I'm running out of words sucker's, see yah!






...are they gone?
K!
Dj,
play my track...