**** 4 Stars
"The Parrilla of Barbarella"
written by Cereal_Killa
"...it is like writing history with lightning and my only regret is that it is all so terribly true."
Woodrow Wilson
The Parrilla Of Barbarella
The value of shock can be weighed by its truth
As halo's still rot in the fingers of proof
..A slight sting.. ..A bruised pride..
Lightning doesn’t strike twice
It’s infinite through time
..
Pain now berths from a period of peace, pride and prosperity
Bane she perched, a bride bound to her balcony of brevity
Free it seemed of debris before but sure to breach, are her flaws
Art or War, an oil painting still bleeding her torment in awe
From a princess of purlieu to a prop on a pedestal
She drops from Belle to Barbie and then calls it a miracle
Her mind has altered from internal growth to outer beauty
Doubting her own beliefs, consumed and seized by this mounting duty
An unsoundly munich pact of death’s music moving BACK
Back in her mind playing her demise on the Palillo she claps
Hysteria patterns a patchwork quilt that she builds from guilt
Distilled on a pillar of puerility, B’s will now wilt’s
A waltz of pent up pestilence from pressure, too tense to vent
With force she’s ordered in a cage for women of insolence
Like hell and high lightning, her standoff nature turns violent
As scientist devise a vital device for the deviant
An electrical toy of conviction to gratify her needs
A stimulant stem of wires incased, to vibrate and please
Though her diseased mind at this time cannot fathom connection
The guards hold her down, massaging her clitoris.. To perfection
..
Habitstance
Work work work...
to fill the hole in your jeans.
Hold your esteem so no one sees and dont be displeased
- you only got the job because of the hole in your genes.
Its cold in my dreams.
So cold that it feels like hope when I breathe
getting burned in every burst as it floats into steam.
Every Three-sixty leaves me crispy -
over-rotisseried.
I'm burnt out, on my third round - I blurt loud in soliloquy
scolding the people that don't know what protocol means.
Toe-to-toe, blow for blow fiends waving their motion to leave
while rowing their shoulders against the undertow of the stream.
Repulsively eat - and fill the hole that you feed.
Hunger and thirst will lessen the first impressions
of the goals that you meet.
Money Money Money
you can pay the toll in your sleep.
Shedding weight is second rate if you're going for keeps.
We're programmable animals who's egos will deplete
if control isn't seized by force of our greed the moment we need.
Photos in heaps - ageless with our friends in a sanctum of events.
Too broke to thrive with no overdrive - laying in our beds.
We're crazy in our heads with all our imagery and shapes:
An awfully glossy coffee table mache'd from the filthiest mistakes
for you to kick your feet off the road of bills that you have paid.
There's Routine - in blue jeans and a beer belly - sitting in constraints -
Whiskey and an eighth hanging by a noose and giving him the aches.
Watching wasted obligations that the television illustrates.
A shadow in vast throes of past hopes as a figure in the drapes -
Robbers breaking in with blades of guilt to pick apart the brain -
I felt a vicious repetitious set of wishes quickening the pace.
The keyhole seems close to the spot where our conviction drifts away.
Room lit through a lamp cover that was a prism of decay -
A glimmer in the day from the M.I.B.-like omission of our faith,
A light switch manipulating personalities that're critically acclaimed,
..and a cat - paw deep in the aquarium - simply fishing for escape.
Whirring, whizzing, pissing, sitting, moaning, dizzy
and replay.
We're calm and considerate as long as our interests are maintained -
We'd run our feet to the bone chasing more than one of your thoughts
so
“We cannot do [everything] , but we can do something at once.”
-Calvin Coolidge
***** 5 Stars
"Anarchist Propaganda Material"
written by zygote
ANARCHIST PROPAGANDA MATERIAL.
"Any man who has had the job I've had and didn't have a sense of humor wouldn't still be here." - Harry S. Truman
breathe out.
breathe in. release chi from the mental.
meet Petr Vilshenko, today the same as everyday he’s feeling so dreadful,
his people called him Petr the Miserable Devil, not an agreeable fellow,
he receives a briefing and memo marked Recent-Essential, Keep-Confidential.
asleep in the press room, the pressure deepens to tenfold.
it grows increasingly stressful,
his appearance disheveled, fearful and fretful.
impeccable completed credentials, trade union leader at eighteen rearing to let go.
A worker’s revolutionary who brought his people from ghettos.
His ideal of Pochvennichestvo – the release of his people from Imperialist cesspools,
His Free Territory at the feet of the Dnieper assembled,
the spirits ancestral, a dream of a place that’s peace and respect filled,
The Old Doctrine of his free manifesto – The Revolutionary idealism is central.
but this ideal developmental twisted from the heat of the metal.
his sons died during the coup – like in keeping with tempo then peaked to crescendo.
the day when Our Hero reached his potential, he also descended deep into refuge,
a mental state of meaningless deluge that clearly resembles the deepest celestial.
The New Doctrine of his free manifesto – he wrote Life is a meaningless road on an unreasonable dead world,
Ninety percent of society reduced to slavery the means justified by the end goals,
The other ten percent receives complete freedom for being successful, breaching threshold of human achievement and levels,
He wrote Laughter opposes Labor and is unnecessary for achieving your set goals.
To create his nihilistic utopia deceit was essential.
Secret police moved like demons revenge filled, torturing political dissidents with bleeding utensils.
Vilshenko orders his meetings rescheduled. begins reading the previous memo – “Leader. The proletariat claim your mistreatment's neglectful, underground groups are scheming to get you…”
Petr loosens his prehensile on pencil, it falls to the floor with a serious echo,
He can’t escape the feeling of nearing his peril.
impending feelings of dread loom. when life means nothing do you still believe it is special?
An experience of fear is embezzled, he planned to keep his mementos from usurping the seat of supreme presidential,
his sons by his side when they sacked St. Petersburg’s temple.
it all built to this moment, a predestined path with a sequence sequential,
he’s feeling resentful but will not let his leadership tremble.
In conclusion, humor is a leadership quality like nihilism is a leadership quality, leaders are oppressive and their character traits become the norm. The common individual is only forced to go along. The Petr Vilshenko exposition demonstrates the topic’s wrong. Further, you wonder how Truman could ever have a sense of humor after ordering the use of two atomic bombs.
- THE ANARCHO-SYNDICALIST COMMUNE.