I presume some of you have heard the news, they finally made a neutrino move faster then the speed of light which means that you can stick your tongue out to this old man! Bur what does this actually mean for man kind? Probally nothing much for a while, scientistes would probally deny it or get horribly confused. Not much happening in my life but here is my writing:
These first two poems are based on personal pet hates:
They call it a book,
But a bibliophile would have not love for it,
They call it a form of society,
all about sharing,
but you can't truly share that matters to both heart and mind,
that which it breeds the ill breeds,
Of fear, shame, despair, anguish, pride, envy, anger,
those mental pulse, that to which the heart beats,
tha which contorts the mask of humans,
and while we speak of that,
they demand of you to show your mask,
that is in their name,
but to tell everybody your age, loves, hates and location,
so the beast can hunt you, but not a beast of claws,
but one that takes your secrets and your choices,
and treats it like a whore,
selling them to artistes of the coin,
but all the while the net encroaches,
on the social and communication webs,
they trap you like a fly,
and everything is linked to this book of maskes,
to fill the throne of zucker's mountain,
but what is this?
It's Mark Zuckerbergs' Facebook.
What is so funny? What makes you laugh?
You're a fool, so I won't speak reason too you,
As Solomon did advise,
your sense of humour show to me,
you lack focus or interlect,
and when our actions are counted,
your jokes will not please anybody,
and will drag you down,
so go pester somebody else,
somebody who shares your taste,
for your crappy humour,
and for you wretched artwork,
we get it, brainiac, you're a boy,
and I don't think,
that any meritocracy,
would value you,
so silence fool,
before I throw you into the devil's pool,
and let you drown,
because I didn't pity.
This last one is a short piece called spindrift, although it has nothing to do with that:
Thelonious tapped his pencil on the desk. The three men sat across from him, looking like indentical clones of the same thirty year old man but with different coloured hair, one black, one red and one platnium green. For some reason Thelonious thought that the last man's hair should have been blonde, but their suits where indentical cool, Thelonious wanted their tailor's number.
"You're a necromancer, right?" Asked the first one,
"Yes." Calmly replied Thelonious, he wanted to grin to his glee. They all frowned and the third one slammed his fist on the table.
"Stop being so non-chalant kid. We are the Johnathon Inquistiroial triad of the glorious Necromancer order's grave digger beureau!" Growled the man.
"I would, but you are interigating me in a common room of a children's hospital." Thelonious smirked.
"Shut up" growled the second one.
Sorry about that one, I didn't quite finish it. But here are some nice enough cracked articles. But since this week's had a breath taking event I had a thought, did the dinosaurs really die of a meteor? If you have any theories other then the meteor one, please leave a comment! Not much else,
the sorrow shadow,
I, myself and wikipedia.
These first two poems are based on personal pet hates:
They call it a book,
But a bibliophile would have not love for it,
They call it a form of society,
all about sharing,
but you can't truly share that matters to both heart and mind,
that which it breeds the ill breeds,
Of fear, shame, despair, anguish, pride, envy, anger,
those mental pulse, that to which the heart beats,
tha which contorts the mask of humans,
and while we speak of that,
they demand of you to show your mask,
that is in their name,
but to tell everybody your age, loves, hates and location,
so the beast can hunt you, but not a beast of claws,
but one that takes your secrets and your choices,
and treats it like a whore,
selling them to artistes of the coin,
but all the while the net encroaches,
on the social and communication webs,
they trap you like a fly,
and everything is linked to this book of maskes,
to fill the throne of zucker's mountain,
but what is this?
It's Mark Zuckerbergs' Facebook.
What is so funny? What makes you laugh?
You're a fool, so I won't speak reason too you,
As Solomon did advise,
your sense of humour show to me,
you lack focus or interlect,
and when our actions are counted,
your jokes will not please anybody,
and will drag you down,
so go pester somebody else,
somebody who shares your taste,
for your crappy humour,
and for you wretched artwork,
we get it, brainiac, you're a boy,
and I don't think,
that any meritocracy,
would value you,
so silence fool,
before I throw you into the devil's pool,
and let you drown,
because I didn't pity.
This last one is a short piece called spindrift, although it has nothing to do with that:
Thelonious tapped his pencil on the desk. The three men sat across from him, looking like indentical clones of the same thirty year old man but with different coloured hair, one black, one red and one platnium green. For some reason Thelonious thought that the last man's hair should have been blonde, but their suits where indentical cool, Thelonious wanted their tailor's number.
"You're a necromancer, right?" Asked the first one,
"Yes." Calmly replied Thelonious, he wanted to grin to his glee. They all frowned and the third one slammed his fist on the table.
"Stop being so non-chalant kid. We are the Johnathon Inquistiroial triad of the glorious Necromancer order's grave digger beureau!" Growled the man.
"I would, but you are interigating me in a common room of a children's hospital." Thelonious smirked.
"Shut up" growled the second one.
Sorry about that one, I didn't quite finish it. But here are some nice enough cracked articles. But since this week's had a breath taking event I had a thought, did the dinosaurs really die of a meteor? If you have any theories other then the meteor one, please leave a comment! Not much else,
the sorrow shadow,
I, myself and wikipedia.
