Best Demographic Poems
It’s autumn time in America,
the colors are changing ...
(it’s alt right to gasp in whited disbelief)
as poplar majority, quaking Aspen leaves
slowly fall off
the John Birch branches
Minority bad weather report
says with autumnal census certainty,
that the colors are changing
irrevocably
And as such,
the changing of the times
has weed hateful nettle disgust
rooted permanently
Forest green consequences are seen
ever spreading
with solyent rapidity ...
(it’s alt right to paint a Snow White
enchanted cottage fantasy)
As the waxen ruling majority,
manifestly, cope with
becoming the newest minority
These be the autumnal days —
the kaleidoscope, tabernacle feast harvest
befalling America
Changing of the color landscape
is being coldly received,
winter frostily ...
(it’s alt right to fiery bemoan in ash-white grief)
The reaping season of Autumn
has duly arrived in America,
with equinox clarity
Equal time for daydreams and nightmares
demand sober vigilance,
as the latter-day fermented rain
begins to foment fall —
An end gathering of
rainbow intolerance disparaging,
mightily ...
(really, it’s alt right to cry with pale hope rantings)
Winter teardrop flakes of uncertainty
are alabaster doubtful falling
America now ghostly faces
the haunting reality of changing colors,
changing what was to what will be
Autumnal days of whine and wilted white roses:
a nostalgic weep binge of dead leaves ...
Drunken ivory desires
porcelain pining
for past skin demographic superiority
Hey America, what do ya think of your Pres now?
Still think he’s a moderate?
Still think the virus came from a bat?
Still think your child needs to wear a mask?
Still think Jan 6 Committee isn’t a hyper-partisan circus?
Still think MAGAs riot but BLM & Antifa protest?
Still think Joe’s compos?
Still think he knows what day it is?
Still think Obama isn’t a racist divisive ass-hole?
Still think globalists first is better than America first?
Still think Hunter didn’t pay daddy his cut of dirty deals?
Still think all black criminals are victims?
Still think Joe is running the show?
Still think he’s got any clue?
Still think you have freedom of speech?
Still think you live in a democracy?
Still think Joe’s not a hostage to the radical left?
Still think diversity over merit ever works?
Still think Joe’s not Putin’s bit*h?
Still think he’s not a hair sniffing creep?
Still think Made in China is better than Made in USA?
Still think calling Covid the China Vi-rus is inherently racist?
Still think lockdowns and mandates work?
Still think woketardery isn’t a cancer on western civilisation?
Still think Joe cares about what you think?
Still think Antifa is just an idea?
Still think Trump bad but Cuomo good?
Still think Joe cares about your constitutional rights?
Still think you can be any gender you want?
Still think anyone gives a damn about your pronouns?
Still think censorship is good for our democracy?
Still think Joe speaks for you?
Still think the media don’t cover for him?
Still think Fauci hasn’t been lying all along?
Still think border cartels don’t love Democrats?
Still think the Great Reset isn’t a thing?
Still think the Russia hoax is real?
Still think it’s okay to kill full term babies?
Still think climate alarmism isn’t the con of the century?
Still think defunding the police makes black communities safer?
Still think George Soros isn’t an evil bastard?
Still think Critical Race Theory isn’t taught to your kids?
Still think Afghanistan wasn’t a clusterfu*k?
Still think Build Back Better isn't a disaster?
Still think open borders isn’t about demographic change?
Still think sleepy slow Joe is the great unifier?
Still think you would vote for Joe?
Hey America, what do you think of your Pres now?
Written: February 2022
God Is
God is not confused
God is not amused
God is not impressed
God does not watch commercials
God is not the target demographic
God does not buy name brand clothes or slave labor labels
God is not stylish
God is not popular
spoken of often but
God is not popular
God
Currently has multiple copyright infringement and slander cases in litigation
‘cause people keep on placing his name in the middle of nonsense
God is often imitated and killed daily
God finds your insanity boring
God laughs at what you think you know
God know you don’t know her
God ignores posers
Your ego slashed God’s tires
God is all dressed up with nowhere to go
God is the greatest dancer you’ve never seen
God is a beautiful wallflower
Waiting on your call
Dios no hablo ingles
God is against comprehensive immigration reform
God is also against borders
and inequitable sociopolitical and socioeconomic policies
God is not capitalistic
God is not patriotic
God is not contemporary
God is not cosmopolitan
God is a Sunda(zed) effigy
the Author rendered understudy by impostors
Perfection red lined and compartmentalized
Prepackaged for your comfort and their control
God is not a GMO
God is not a seedless watermelon
or a perfectly yellow and uniform bunch of bananas
God is not a Li-ger
God is not a Kentucky Fried Chicken wing
God is not at Chick Fil-A or Church’s chicken either
God is not a contradiction or a fictional promise
God is waiting at the end of our grey wavering
God is not one of us
God is the true and living absolute
God is love unequivocal
the binary promise
the timeless omni-dimensional logic appearing illogical to the finite senses
God is exact and infinite
the mystery in which there is no intrigue
the balance in deed rendering speech meaningless
God is beyond question or renegotiation
God never whatever
God ever forever
The bearer of the standard that I strive to stand upon
The principle to which I wish to nearer draw
The here to there
The this to that
The then now and ever in an instant
The all in all in which it all makes sense
the destination
the road itself
and the motivation to keep on walking
Das Don doth debilitate democracy
driving a collateral wedge
deliberately dividing differences
collaborating, collapsing, and collaring
disparity amidst ever
increasing homogenization
extant within contiguous United States
across world wide web for that matter
attested by increased
spike among multiracial
amalgamated enclaves, individuals mixing,
where preponderance of melanin
generally affecting predominance
regarding increasing swarthy
naturally copper toned skin
across vast majority of heavily
Caucasian populated areas predicted
to become minority
according new statistics
located at webpage
https://www.brookings.edu/blog/
the-avenue/2018/03/14/
the-us-will-become-minority-
white-in-2045-census-projects/
predict the nation will become
“minority white” in 2045
which genetic assimilation
also harken better angels
among us to herald
interfaith marriage represent
according to hyperlink-
https://www.npr.org/
2013/04/10/176802652/
til-faith-do-us-part-
the-price-of-interfaith-marriage
close to half of all marriages
in this country over the past 10 years
(this cited for the year 2013,
which mostly increased since).
No doubt, the commander in chief
buzzfeeds into this inexorable trend
disquieting, horrifying, mortifying...
especially white supremacists
decrying, lamenting, threatening...
innocents abroad, and/or naturalized citizens
taking cruel dull liver re: to heart
acrimonious, caluminous, jealous, ferocious...
hazarding, kindling, tweeting
inevitable demographic transition overtaking
North America, and teeming masses
(particularly whose skin color,
perhaps fifty shades of brown,
albeit I hereby posit as
forthcoming second, yet
nonpareil gilded bronze age).
Relatively insignificant disparity
(within schema, asper genus/ species
*****sapiens per se)
people comprise greater similarity,
versus starkly disparate contrasts
between each other,
nonetheless oh bomb men able
enthuses, maximizes, trumpets...
every opportunity to spark
altercations, conflagrations, exhibitions...
animals veritably tearing each other
satiating human blood lust,
where coordination, integration, union...
welcoming brother/sisterhood, tolerance,
versus filleting, fomenting fracturing
mosaic boosts ego
inherent narcissistic tribalism!
I hear their idle chatter and wish that sound was optional.
A box checked in a menu, a simple click and forget.
The rapid dilation of my pupils brings me back.
Back to hypnotic aisles of temptation and necessity. A selection of the finest they say.
Right there see, on the cardboard, next to charts and columns of calories and strange
numbers I’d sooner forget.
But buy one get one free still gets me every time.
I stare intently at the dancing numbers until the man with the tie moves away.
Glossy pages shine brighter than the fruit racks they mirror,
Competing for importance in my wallet and my life
The magpie wins and the bananas will wait.
Half the magazines hawk five a day in rounded sans serif, bold against the background of a
chef’s haircut.
Maxims of bizarre cosmopolitan playboys and hustlers marked up at 3.99. Landscapes of
polished flesh glow beneath the loving airbrush of the paycheck. Competing for nuts at the
zoo.
A vanity fair for the hollow, shining in the fading light of a red top sunset.
Paraphrased blogs and condensed morsels of crude celebrity nudes for the I-Generation and
the remnants of New Labour and Thatcher’s Britain.
Anglers, caravans and 50 cent, half the demographic, half the price. Count me out.
I finger a few and find no real desire. The Internet offers this bilge up for free.
They’d all be nude and crapping on each other.
The great silicon toilet of humanity
Past freezers of long dead prisoners, pulped to perfection. Pigs in tubes and flat cow
concoctions.
Pancakes of vomit and fish dishes I won’t ever try. No time for it.
Frankenstein's monster behind glass slides.
Packets of sugar in various disguises. Cereal and chocolate, soft drinks and sauce dips.
Lattes and ladles, loofahs and loaves. The prattle returns through the shelving
I turn around the curries and there is the tie. Talking sport and hard drinking, women and
the weather. Looks me in the eye.
I turn before any interaction and feign interest in something, a scouring pad. Intricately
woven metal coils waste major concentration and he’s gone. Box checked, minimize and move on.
Everything shines in this weird three-quarter light, hypnotic. Confusing. Conscious of the
bottles ahead that I can’t ever touch. Seedy and appealing, puerile and appalling.
Something for everyone.
And nothing for me.
I wanna state a cardiac arrest for ya chest
Detest your own humidity within humanity, cats rest in vanity
Controlling underground charisma the mic got me checking
Wrecking one image of fame at a time
Cursed vines connecting family to 10 o clock news
Dues payed, lives strayed in the fray battling demonic entities
Loving life as it was given to me never forgetting how bad days are now
Whatever happened to old love music and jazzy tunes programed to everyone's ear
Fears hold hearts by the numbers count beyond two plus two into thunder
Anesthetic agility slaying demographic amendment abilities
Beckoning nucleic AC's, base combination weeds
Growing fast forget what you knew last
Before trash wonders pounce into eyes of ghetto stricken children
Stereotyped to end up living in hatreds domain, so much pain
Vividly orchestrated symbolically government debated
No-one has awakened accept a lesser few
Scripted by transcendentalist dues, golden hues and cyripted clues
BOOM!, did you feel my vibe
Arise and cry your hearts content, repent what grounds gravitational
Ration cuz they called me action with a little bit of attraction
For tainted pictures posted on shopping center windows
JC penny pillows, couches and Nintendos
Forget all the unnecessary smiles and hug with love's style
Is it wrong to file times when wrong was right
Darkness was light, she became vigilante bright
Yo...this poetry thing is so tight
I just wish i found it earlier in mainstream ignorance
To electrify my repentance mechanism
Schisms tattooed onto tribal ancestor blades
vector shijin played
Yuki im comin girl
Your my world and much more, although I love Viviana
until my heart dies of pore romanticism interpretations
Pounding silhouettes emancipation anticipate that
See i'm just one of a few that appreciate metaphores
and naturalistic lore, women with imaginative cores
Naw it aint hard, see im just cruzin
but i guess its hard to contemplate daily iluzions.
To be said
What are you look at ?
cutting down these days by
Mother board specification ...
... Rainbow shimmer Smirk ...
To be said
Above
or
below
we all crawl in the mud
trying to
remember those wings ...
Consuming when you laugh w-/ it
lost among ..
The rest of our demographic
the power of Black women walking together as a community
to know that there's nothing we can't accomplish when we move in unity
turnt, turnt, turnt up
now ready to reach new heights
animated, invigorated and stimulated
to walking by faith and not by sight
wearing our denims and pearls
as we traverse the red carpets of life
in shades of red with crowns on our heads for we are queens in the Kingdom of Christ
the power of Black women walking together is a sight to behold
a cohesive solidarity as we endeavor
to achieve our goals
nurturers, supporters and devoted encourages are we
women of God with humble hearts
striving affectionately
just don't discount us and don't miscount us for we are a feminine multitude
on a heavenly altitude, living the Beatitude with a Jesus is my Savior attitude
the power of Black women walking together
as we lift up our communities
champion young black minds,
none of our kids to be left behind
now given every opportunity
We got you say no more
know that you are not alone
for we are praying warriors walking with you. through all of life storms
the power of Black women walking together as one body in Christ
knowing we won't fail, we will prevail
on a massive scale as we promote life
so please take note
as we are damn sure woke
and we vote as often needs be
for we are black women walking in our purpose to defend democracy
we are mothers, aunts, daughters and nieces determined to do our best
collectively working in concert
to whatever cause we need to address
the power of Black women walking together as daughters of the King
knowing in our hearts, we abide by God
and his wisdom we impart in everything
the power of Black women walking together as we advance the Great Commission unceasingly praying, never straying
staying focused on our Christian mission
we won't back up, we won't back down
and in your face we will be
for we are Black women walking together
building powerful communities
just don't get it twisted
and don't get defensive
as we are major demographic factor
because Black women walking together
have more power than a nuclear reactor
we are Black women walking together
They fired all the docents
In Chicago. This is why:
They’re mostly old white women,
Though they’re well-informed and spry.
They train for months and volunteer;
That’s right - they earn no pay,
But since they’re old white women,
They won’t be allowed to stay.
They mainly are retired
And, of course, a few are men,
But questions of diversity
Have cropped up once again.
So someone thought it would be wise,
Despite the years they’ve spent,
To replace the demographic
That they seem to represent.
In New York, I’m a docent
And an old white woman, too.
If my museum follows suit,
There’s not much I can do.
If only I could vote for you, crazy Donald of my youth, after watching tonight’s horror show of possibilities with no truth. Here comes Zero-gun control, no tolerance, no respect for all, for in the future is insanity, sanity put on the run, no reason, no rhyme, more crime. race riots in full swing, is the future Donald brings. Donald to the left of you Donald to the right, spewing crazy is as crazy does, stupid right Forrest Gump? I do not watch much news, bad news day after day it can affect your brain, but I had to see tonight the momentous spectacle that Donald may bring our way. Donald did deliver on his future of crazy, but It sure did not amaze me, an audience full of beautiful Stetson’s and ball caps no disrespect its symbolic of Donald’s mainstream demographic. Donald’s future tag line will be “I love the smell of napalm in the morning” he is clear in his campaign rhetoric he has given America it’s warning, unheeded it will be the world’s darkest morning. I wish America to vote for the other Donald as I would vote for the Donald of my youth, he delivered on comedy, he delivered the truth, that innocence in the face of crazy is part of growing up, I am not sure we expected this real life Donald, crazy Donald Trump. I vote for the other Donald, for he never let me down, he was not real, just a giggle on the cultural American deal. A story foretelling of that day, that Donald of the future will become a real Daffy and will come our way. Truth be damned rhetoric reign supreme, grasping at straws of up holding the American dream, a dream that will drown in the wake of Donald’s dribble, his drool, forever staining the world’s pillow. No sleepless nights while Daffy is in power, pray to god we do not meet our final hour…Poetry by Dean
This life comes with crushing weight.
Pressure to complete a certain fate.
Makes it hard just to breathe.
Carrying self induced deadline date.
I'm not empty nor distracted.
Age has made me more protracted.
Dichotomy to my impatience;
I feel most empty before enacted.
These periods tell me I'll drown,
treading water, then pulled down.
Demographic outsider,
I want to verb, not just be a noun.
I'm looking inside an empty room.
I despise this average doom.
I need to swim like the shark.
Or, I die too, inside this gloom.
"That cannot happen!" I cry aloud.
I cannot grow inside this crowd.
I have a journey to complete
seeking truth behind mind's shroud.
I am not happy in the present.
My work has warped and bent.
My uniform is the bandage
that covers what's been spent.
I nurture my path instead of nature.
Most people make the same wager.
I need to burn this badge.
Pay attention to the inward feature.
This is no longer who I am.
I despise a reflected corporate lamb.
I would much rather fail.
At least I'll have played my hand.
Casinos are packed with people watching others play.
Life can be a theatre of living the same way.
It's scary sitting down at a table.
Not sure how to play or if you're able.
We are told to take the safe bet.
To watch for dangers not seen yet.
I reject this idea as I press on.
I'll mostly fail before I'm gone.
I don't care because when I'm old,
I'll lay on a bed, while others speak of stories I've told.
-Angel Fatale-
The Changing Face of Europe
So we are the last true Europeans in the sea of changes
and conflicting religions as old certainties disappear and
we bewildered look at a world we don’t understand.
Israel is drowning in a demographic pool and their fight
to remain pure Jewish is doomed. Christianity is singing
its last hymn and churches in the future, if not razed to
the ground will be places for tourists to marvel over.
Empires and countries might rise and fall like the tide.
Cultures too have their days before discarded as quaint
but useless for a new time’s need. But we are not totally
doomed, the new society, perhaps not as white skinned
as us, will hopefully adopt the ancient idea of democracy;
to predict the coming is impossible, but one thing will
always remain: Man’s hunger for freedom.
in order to get back to Eden to live on top of the world
there are a few things from God which need to be heard
here in America in the democratic land of milk and honey
African-Americans are disproportionate when it comes to power and money
our healthcare is poorer, our finances worse, few of us in seats of power
at the bottom of most demographic indicators and our circumstances diminish by the hour
the most unemployed, the most discriminated, the first to be laid-off or dismissed
more of us in jail, a lot of us illiterate, there are too many problems for me to list
fewer marketable skills, fewest high school diplomas and don't mention college degrees
African-American men in America need to take off their blinders and see
to those who stand behind stained-glass windows and look down on those who have less
you need to take your brothers back to Eden and put an end to all this mess
you might not comprehend their reality but you should attempt to understand
that as true servants of God you should help your fellow man
if you consider yourself to be a true disciple of Christ
what have you done to enrich someone else's life?
who did you clothe? who did you feed?
who did you minister to in their time of need?
who did you mentor to on how to be a man?
who did you talk to or stretch out your hand?
there's a lot of work that needs to be done to get our brothers inspired
we need to help them build a relationship with God and do as Jesus aspired
in order to get back to Eden we need to start at the very beginning
with the basic instructions that God is recommending
to fellowship with your fellow man
to develop a trust opposite to slavery's plan
to communicate with positivity
to no longer promote negativity
to pull up your pants and walk like a man
to be productive and not destructive
to be supportive and not abortive
to act like someone's father and not like you're being bothered
to teach our brothers to put down the guns and take up the cross
so they will no longer act like thugs but to think like a boss
no longer will we be divided with jealous envy
now united as brothers under God's authority
getting back to Eden to be on top of the world
to living our lives according to God's Holy word
to get back to Eden and up from the basement of life
living on top of the world as brothers with our savior Jesus Christ
The Cinematic Film Treatment as a stand alone element
in the aesthetic revolution we are now not witnessing
Unforgotten Lacerations
A pataphysical circus of visual elements, possibly comprehensible depending upon one's ideological orientation or level of pre-programmed self-inhibition, as a product of The Secret Alliance of Manipulators who are able to make time seem to sputter and stall, which renders entire historic eras readable as non-immersive abstractions accessible to self-evolved synthetico-interpretive frameworks which, strangely enough, can be scenario-independent, yet anti-universalist, if perceived from behind protective eye wear (and hand wear) when transnavigating the immense rainbow-hued gulf between pleasant surroundings and a 3rd World prison cell in a forgotten jungle at the mouth of the River of Despair where zebras eat unicorns for breakfast, and blend in so much better to boot in a time where protective foliage is the name of the game and infiltration a fine art enamored of free spirits capable of moving from demographic to demographic while in the pay of no orthodoxy, no tradition, no taboo circus, no constricting corsets of approval, no appetite or appetite suppressant, no failure to observe and snicker at the many ironies the 3rd dimension presents us, no reluctance to laugh at the great archive of human failure and triumph so evident upon the pixels of Imagos no refusal to laugh in the face of presumption or habit or imitation or indecision or equivocation about the acceptance of new data, period.
We swim in slime of a kakristocracy.
Its murky yet neon green; with radioactive counterfeit dollar bills.
These waters are toxic; it's inhabitants littered and hypoxic.
Ethnocentric, psychographic, demographic divides each line in it's Net worth catch.
Yet there is a falling cascade.
A where about place where Seahorses galavant.
There can be no chuevinism; where she provides and he bears his own legacy.
The Stud and his Mare.
Subsequentially inside a tsunami, crashing down on a barren coral reef.
Even in these tumultuous times, he will ask for her egg and she shall concede.
Now wading in the torrents of a dream; they and their offspring, sleeping peacefully beneath the Stampede.