The roads are silver The street lights halos All of your friends and family are there Eating and drinking, forever God looks just like you You are obviously quite thrilled with the outcome and the sheer magnificent splendor of it all I am so glad for you and not the least bit resentfull <The fruit from that tree> Here is my mushroom Here is my cactus I have no more money and when i did? it was never mine it was merely dead trees and melted minerals a trick for the masses to make life bearable. a never ending commercial. just for you." /> The roads are silver The street lights halos All of your friends and family are there Eating and drinking, forever God looks just like you You are obviously quite thrilled with the outcome and the sheer magnificent splendor of it all I am so glad for you and not the least bit resentfull <The fruit from that tree> Here is my mushroom Here is my cactus I have no more money and when i did? it was never mine it was merely dead trees and melted minerals a trick for the masses to make life bearable. a never ending commercial. just for you." />
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Milk & Honey with a touch of PCP <the dead cat edit> (Free verse) by horus8
Man, i think this PCP has got me scared Every step I dare make is another attempt to recreate the hoodlum Why I try ? For nay, for nought! <my mouth and my nostrils> I don't dare figure out, What this tangled mess is all about The ink in my body art, fading My hands are arthritic, smell I feel old, and indecent peacocked. <the book of the dead> The sun is hidden, probation The clouds are many dead end Their color's gray and pent My teeth are chipped period! My lips are dry motored My tongue's swollen, let me down easy <instrument anubis> Sure, i'm prone to try exasperation Pick my choice and keep your voice Now it's time to turn around Identify it, but let it be nameless A hidden sound arising in waves pulsed, i'll try anything once, but i'll try you never again. <alibaster rod> To be courageous and make a stand To call my home this browning land It needs some water to keep it grand This brown and vacant flat faced span The wagon train is at a halt factorial now pictorial our history lies. <the four children of horus> I speak out loud to start a cult I remove my cowboy hat and, the rabbi get e' ups My hair is combed to look so flat I am the cool, they call me cat But the Tom in me has Jerried my swagger <the amulet of tet> I smoked the water, cone I've drank the earth, autonomous Bartered my soul for all of its worth Every evening since my beginning Pluck that out with a yank and put it in your vased feather collection. {The second chapter, and the last. Where our fiction becomes non fiction, and vice versa} <the amulet of two fingers> Some where near a river On the equator In a jungle The tribe gathers The women chat fervently amongst themselves as their children laugh and play nearby Their men are sitting quietly in a circle Relaxing the mind Preparing the body Gathering the spirit <iron of the south> The sun's daughter scratches her father's penis Now falls the semen of the sun Now rises the souls of men slowed and weighted <the power of words> Some where near a bay On the date line In a city The hippies gather The women talk slowly to each other Ignoring their children Who are begging to be heard, and tugging at their mother's sleeves The men are all talking amongst themselves about eachother, and one another Each man, is trying the hardest to be the loudest Each man, is assuming that he knows the true answer And that the other is wrong Stressing the mind Abusing the body Separating the spirit <demon of bekhten> The moon's son rapes his mother Now hear her cries in the tides Now charge your talismans, gyve In the waxing of her sorrow <the dream of thoth> Her I am at the tropic of cancer All alone within thee answer How have we allowed this immeasurable separation to occur ? We have our shopping carts, and they have their spears We have our machines, and they have their stories You have your church, and we have our plants Which culture is stuck at the who's, why's, and cant's? It was so easy from the start to place this barrier around our hearts They taught you how, and you don't remember Being to young, and brainwashed by December If I took away your materialistic outlook on life Who would you be? <Blood of a cow> If I cleansed your painful past Who could you be ? I know what it is that holds you in place In your wallet it hides awaiting its turn That's all right, please don't cry I wont touch your money You have a sweet tooth and i know that's your honey So cling to it tight, and make a big pile It makes you so cool, it gives you your style <information that i desire> So tonight when you sleep way up at the top Your dreams filled with treasure that goes on forever In our next life In our next place Don't be upset when you say , "hi". And I just walk by how could I recognize you? with all of those coins stuck to your face Oh wait! i remember now Yes, i'm sorry I do know you You're the one who told me all about heaven Where the gates are golden and full of pearls the streets gem encrusted <lady of fortune> The roads are silver The street lights halos All of your friends and family are there Eating and drinking, forever God looks just like you You are obviously quite thrilled with the outcome and the sheer magnificent splendor of it all I am so glad for you and not the least bit resentfull <The fruit from that tree> Here is my mushroom Here is my cactus I have no more money and when i did? it was never mine it was merely dead trees and melted minerals a trick for the masses to make life bearable. a never ending commercial. just for you.

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Arithmetic Mean: 6.5
Weighted score: 5.4034123
Overall Rank: 3094
Posted: September 11, 2002 1:57 AM PDT; Last modified: January 2, 2003 4:41 PM PST
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Comments:
[n/a] -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. @ 81.86.113.159 | 11-Sep-02/9:20 AM | Reply
Well fuck me, it's another 20-page drug-addled discharge from the master of meaningless crypticism. Great one! I'm sure all your fans will come all over it!

I used to actually try to understand what the hell you were talking about. But there is far too much random bullcrap to bother trying to glean the nuggets of wisdom you seem to think you have. I bet if you shortened your public therapy sessions by about 70% a lot more people would be willing to actually read them and take them seriously. And so sayeth -=Plumpkin=-.
[n/a] horus8 @ 24.126.113.154 > -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. | 11-Sep-02/9:42 AM | Reply
lets not get fucking pety, oops, forgot who i was talking to. open your egyptian book of the dead and figure it out. just cuz you can describe a million ways to play with ones ass and shit in under twenty lines, doesn't mean i can describe the riddle of life in the same enbrowning fashion.....look kids d.a gave me a three cuz i'm cryptic?! wow and, even a break down of "how it is, in the land of the meaningless". -=Clinkin=-. go pet your prawnws gay blade, and let me do what i do!, i don't come over to your side and mess with you. king poo.
[n/a] -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. @ 81.86.113.159 > horus8 | 11-Sep-02/10:00 AM | Reply
1. I didn't give you a three. Good try, though!
2. Haven't we been over this before? Last time I actually counted, fewer than 1/7 of my poemes made ANY REFERENCE to faeces at all. Yet this still seems to be the thrust of all your attacks and counterattacks. em erob uoy.
3. Don't you have anything to say in your defense? Can you do naught but fling tiresome accusations of fecal obsession?
4. Actually, you do come over to "my side" and "mess with me". Anyway I *am* letting you do what you do, you fanny. It's called CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. I made a suggestion. If you're too much of a man to consider it then I guess you win.
[n/a] horus8 @ 24.126.113.154 > -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. | 11-Sep-02/1:58 PM | Reply
yeah..you're probably right...1/7 is still high when your talking about 200 pieces though...or more..who knows how maany spinning faces you have...anyway..i was just pissed cuz i actually had to do some physical labor today (plus i have way to much dialogue to memorize this week, forgive)...i appologize...i'll look into shortening it and tightening a new edit. thanx.
[8] brazen @ 12.89.187.100 | 11-Sep-02/10:39 AM | Reply
maybe its all the acid in forever encraved on the memorial to abstinence that now stands on my spine, but not only did i get to the end of this own personal illiad, but i didn't even pay the usual attention to the overwhelming length...usually i get up and make a sandwich halfway through...either way, i shall finish off with a very much child-like "i likey the stuff, mommy"
[8] <~> @ 24.44.185.41 | 11-Sep-02/7:59 PM | Reply
updowside runandhide feathers and beaks, the words he tweaks
and has unleashed on the eyes of men
and women pixellated and fixellated and fornicated and fragmentated
and swirling and dervishing about my ears until in tears
i beg...just one little bite?
[0] poetandknowit @ 65.101.213.71 | 16-Dec-02/11:28 PM | Reply
This is a true and visionary piece of work. You must submit this to the Paris Review at once. Just where Stan Rice has published. hahahahahahhahhaahhaha
[1] Freethinker1602 @ 68.48.88.129 | 2-Jan-03/3:11 AM | Reply
wow work on the length....other wise it would have been good
[n/a] horus8 @ 24.126.113.154 > Freethinker1602 | 2-Jan-03/3:37 PM | Reply
ready for the dead cat edit? here it comes.??
[n/a] horus8 @ 24.126.113.154 > Freethinker1602 | 28-May-03/9:27 AM | Reply
Maybe if you put a bowl of oatmeal in front of you while you read it you'd not notice how microscopic your comment is.
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