Liberal party: from the hearty

We rage for our generation in the hopes the old ways remember the immorality of inconsistent belief. The first world obligated to remain vigulent to demented ideas from within,  to evil orange sprites

What happened? When was our progress smeared by selfish uses of our gear?

I hope ignorance and greed of 18th White ‘rights’ can be healed, for the sake of our beloved, I do try to hope. Seems all too true, this vigilance we must keep as fire in our chests, lest we see a future coloured darkest blue. Not long till the rich twitch from nooses and catch nicks from pitchforks for their abuses.

Higher networth… Seems only a dirth, while we sit praised and punished in one boomer breath. Payback’s a bitch from those with sewn lips and scarred thighs, can’t help but question the motives of Liberal voters, despite a fear of dogma to their side, I see only self interest and no bother. So many arguments of scale starring ‘why bother.’

Does that bother you? Wouldn’t it do? That precious few decide it fine for you to get screwed, while nihil surprise their profits grew. Sick of the values of work from those least down to earth. Doesn’t this seem insane? Very least strange?

Wonder my distain to the billion or so heirs names? While they so seamlessly gain while other lay slain. Yet heirs would say those in pain are our bane.

Hit’s a nerve don’t it? Like the nerve of big profit to profligate such hate.

Hypocrisy that can’t be playcated. I maintain I simply wonder, simply wonder on an explaintion.

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Dear Rupert

Every off decision I’ve made forms craters and cuts on my face. I wonder how your pores aren’t excavated. I wonder how your flaws don’t flip you in your bed.

I wonder how you reach ‘the current plan’ did you care? Did you know? Could you show me so? Where does your sole land and where does your soiled soul sleep? Does it weep? Is it a slug like monster that coils in a ball sucking the light from your eyes for sustinance? Behind those thick rimmed glasses can you make out anything but your singular goals? Do you not see our nooses or have you forgotten you have one too? The higher the tower you build in life, the further you fall limp and lifeless at the end falling of breakneck till you break your neck.

Do those glasses shield your eyes up there? Do you expect what you are given? Do you believe you deserve it? Do you think you earnt shit? Do you believe what you preach? do you want free speech? Can you accept your open concete? Have you realised your own demise? Do you know your history? Or is it just another sound mystery?

How can you remain so blissfully unaware betting with others lives without care?

🌊🎍💱

The G Figure

In the name I find myself longing after there is only an echo, a little tinny voice that speaks back at me, mockingly in my own voice as if to say ‘that’s what you sound like.’ As I call the name of a deity that allows famine, with our free will as their only defence I hear only the wind reply. As I feel myself forgetting my own lessons. Their messengers sit cross legged in the trees passing my voice along with billions more; sheparding us toward it. The plees woft on, hurded with the others to their ears. While all we hear are echoes of our own voices.

Reminding us of what we sound like. Do we starve to our sorrow? Do we find shelter in that cheque, Do we feel parched for our possessions? Did Fyodor play a fickle fancy fiddle or did his riddle make God giggle

🎍🌊💱🐾

We’re So Very Glad to Meet you

When the moon says ‘goodnight’ you will see my hands grasping yours on a sun lit bed. When the earth’s trials count us among the lucky I will hold you in that bitter winter. When our species wide senescence rolls back like a undertow on our fate’s shore, I’ll stand with you on that gloomy beach gazing upon the nuclear winter.
Let’s play cards on the devils doorstep, and drink to our downfall.

Come with me and make your own rules. Call the shots with the moon as your syn-chronic guide, forget the deities that led us astray and contract the worries of the world for another day. All in all we’re all caught in a gracious current that may carry us where we will. Why call shots when we wake worried and wily? Why counter callous actions through wild eyes and crippled lungs? Why worry at all for the exhilaration of a wiry world, when the wires and dire straights could cremate us all in seconds, why crack wise with a consumer disguise?
Butterflies flap there wings to a cosmic time scale and were underwater. Yet drowning we remain manifesting self-fury.
Come with me and see new rules revised. Where do you turn when the world weighs wayward on the horizon? Where else but turn up to cloud-ridden heads and heavy bar top hearts? Watch me hide with the most cautious crooks and cling to life extremophile style.
Where can we turn as the trials do pile, where do miles become empty styles human milestones left no living rivals?
Simply we boast.
I toast simply to the mire that stands before us and the hell we must bust through, but I’ve played cards with a demon or two, they’ll be very happy to meet you.

Well play your words your rules.

🎐 📼

Coins and Credits – Nothing to the Deaded

Aces limited you keep faith in those in your hands, as if the deck is empty.
I am under no requirements to see your laws fit.
I see no agreement reached by coin or credits.
I have no desire for riches pictures of my grandeur or bitches.
You’ve heard about me in scripture but no words can decipher sinister.
You’re best efforts may dodge my effects, but I have nothing to live for and time I could lose.
I’ll wait in the chairs outside your office, I’m sure your secretary will welcome me. I’m humble, you see and I never get angry. I’m very loving as you sleep; invade your thoughts if you make a peep. I’m a cheap date at the right price; I don’t care for your excuses for abuses. Why of course from a born liar you have your uses. I suppose I can fit you in. I have appointment with all sorts, from porters to court lawyers. I don’t discriminate, I’m happy to accommodate and did I say you look great?
‘Do you have a second?’

‘I have a proposition.’
I’m sure you’ll agree, one way, even without your permission. The courts can’t hold me to the promises I’ve made. But I’ll practically pledge you anything.
Just let me in.
Promise me your sin and I won’t turn you in.
give me a ring we’ll organize a time. You can tell me your reasons in rhyme. Sympathetically my lips could sing you justifications some may even fly under the right situations. I’m your guy; whether you’re sky high headed or satin sheets bedded, you said it, bet it will be,
see me when you’re ready, steady and stable.
I’ll listen to your fables, dance upon the tables and sit in on your navel gazes.
But don’t trust them, I have evidence you may be interested in, might quiet that din indeed, on a need to know basis, basically it’s greatest.
But payments up front Aces are expensive trumps. Being blunt I don’t take well to grunts and moans. Pick up the fucking phone! I know when you’re not home. I can tell by your tone.
Glad we could do business. God can’t bless your little heart. You must know in part…

I own you

📼