The Predator's Stage
She planned it well, to vanish and to fade away
So, everyone would forget
A clever trap within the mess she made.
She left her things in an arranged design,
To pull at heart strings and keep us all in line.
You wouldn’t believe how many felt the blow,
Even had me feeling guilty
And shed a tear for one they didn’t know.
Behind closed doors she’s someone different
She is vile, a creature dark and cold, a psychopathic heart
A deceiving woman, a child beater through and through,
Not even lovable, though she tried to fool you.
To plan a ritualistic return.
She’s hiding now, preparing for the stage,
Because she failed in her new life
To come back grand and flip another page.
But I have watched the "grandeur" she has planned,
And spread the word across this weary land.
I called her out, the "crook on the loose" is known,
And now her seeds of spite will not be grown.
I’ve spoiled the plan, I’ve broken every seal,
The more who know, the more we make it real.
Her comeback stalls, her ritual is dead,
Because the truth is what we speak instead.
“Tell me” Would we want her back?
This psychopathic wand with which we put a spell on everything. Fool the gullible souls and they’ll do for you anything.
This formidable lie we choke to call the truth. So many people die for what greed ‘needs’ under its roof.
This perplexing way of life sees poor people bow to the riches whims. Where need is buried alive no matter how loud it screams.
This state of mankind is abhorrent in almost every single way. Where the very minute few dictate to the rest what they think and say.
1ST Revised version
the psychopathic murdered of 51589.
majority been Innocent and God fearing
whose souls will testify
keeping him in the hell fire FOREVER.
Only did his mother know what evil,
she would have summon God
to stop his evil birth.
The greed in him
has no morality,
just a carnivorous cannibal.
schemes to manipulation human intelligence.
Take away the butchers knife
he becomes a belligerent vampire, blood sucking Idiot
who loves to fascinate his egoistic insecurities.
A specializes killer,
and a molester of the dead.
Human corps excites and motivate this maniac
who enjoy and invite hawks to pick the bones of his victims.
Sick son-of- (you fill it in as I don’t use those word.)
Al Juman the said poet © 9/30/2024
Lots of politicians gathered together
Maximising target area
what too creepy
How much do you get for resigning again
You voted a walking beanbag twice
Presidents to Kings wanted
Psychopathic tendencies preferred
Anyone who wants to be a politician should never be allowed to
Selling now
wanna buy
why have psychopathic rulers...?
they will millions dead every year...
then cry 'freedom' while others...
spend life in jail for...whatever...?
stan sand
schools encourage students
to grow up have recess-fun
behave and become mature
responsible people who mind
their business and help others
however there be a problem
the ukraine leader was a stage comedian
before being elected head of his party
in the school yard where-in as class-clown
he seeks cheers and applause for unfunny
psychopathic gang fights with those with
whom they've lived for decades so that
peace ends and school yard fighting reigns
reputations of the biggest bullies who clamber
for a piece of the weapons profit all while
people are dying for publicity and bank accounts
of the usa as the biggest weapon-profits sucker
on the planet that threatens those who want
peace talks (china) because the fighters then
might be removed (and put on an island somewhere)
to fight or work and talk out their problems apart from us
immature people must not be put in charge.....period
stan sand
...To me it seems morality
is what holds us back from the edge,
what keeps us from just destroying,
and leaving all enemies dead.
But more and more I think that it
was not some product of our mind,
but a product of evolution
that developed slowly with time.
Since no predator can stop us,
since we defeat even disease,
did we evolve our moral sense
to check those who act viciously?
Were the ones who killed unrestrained
killed off by their own aggression?
Were those first real moral stirrings
what kept folks from being undone?
Were the humans who lacked such thoughts
winnowed down, soon too few to breed?
Did evolution select those
able to resist killer creeds?
Is that why so few people now
have those brute, psychopathic brains?
Are those people just leftovers,
from a strategy now disdained?
If so, it means our moral codes,
are not something we made ourselves,
but just evolution’s response
to minds that can make living hell.
It wasn’t some higher calling
that kept us all from being wrecked,
morality is nature’s way
of keeping our species in check.
"Thus Spoke Zarathustra"
proclaims the Dawn of Man &
The Monolith
From the ancient past
to the (retro)futuristic present
as the flying bone
becomes a satellite in orbit
Blue Danube waltz
serenades space:
the Pan Am space plane
gracefully docks with
the space station
Ligeti’s haunting polyphony
envelopes space:
Floyd visits
The Monolith on the
immaculately stark moon
Beautifully tragic
Khachaturian ballet suite
announces the Discovery’s
lonely mission to Jupiter
Bowman methodically unplugs
the homicidal HAL
as the psychopathic e-brain
sadly sings “Daisy, daisy…”
He enters the wormhole
in the Monolith orbiting Jupiter
travels through infinity
at FTL velocity
transfixed by the epic
irreal journey
And then finds himself in a
luxury hotel room
somewhere in the universe:
dying on a bed
he sees the Monolith
and is transformed
into a Star-Child
who floats toward Earth
What will the Star-Child
do?
She told me how much she despised her ex-husband.
If he was not already dead, I would kill him, she said.
The ladies who were quilting at church laughed every time.
I probably laughed the hardest, so we became good friends.
Over the past twenty-six years she has told me of her abusive parents.
Her psychotic mother, her free-loading sister. Her psychopathic brother.
I wondered how she could be so normal from this family.
I thought I knew everything about my friend….
Until the day the FBI came and arrested her.
DNA tests proved she was the one who shot and killed her husband.
We at church had been told he died a slow sad death of cancer.
Weird that she never told any of us this…..
To share a painful dive
deserves credit
I was terrified
Police groped blindly in this chase -
a psychopathic serial killer
A cold knife blade against the body
is in every way a mental abuse
Even if you're trying to gain control on all
the pieces that are missing in the moment
Run ... run ... run for your life
Beads of sweat drip from the forehead
taste of blood in the mouth
I have no idea where the forces came from
had to fight from start to finish
in this life-threatening situation
Run ... run ... run until you are exhausted
I did not have much strength left
But the alternative would have been horrible
The world suddenly turned black
I woke up in the hospital one day later
No one can distance themselves from this feeling
The experience is forever in my backpack
10/08/2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
INFLICTIONS Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
2nd place in the contest
- a fictional poem :)
Fortunes and good luck is for spoiled brats rotten,
when you have Destiny crabbing you so tide by your bottom.
She stares in your eyes in dept with tickles of pain,
making you wondering, what is insane.
Her smile no more pretense of craft,
affectionate awakening sincerely laughed.
When conscious metaphors shriek in panic,
one get the sense of some happenstance dramatic.
My wits and psychopathic prayers searching for conclusion,
picturing the firmament already in doomed collusion.
Oh almighty preserver, save me from this destiny,
knowing that I am the weaver of my own legacy.
The blues like lullaby inviting me into her blossom,
haunting echoes in subdued kind of awesome.
Moments become the slow motion silence,
still searching for those magical alliance.
By clarity of deep voice in me, I focus on my breathing,
remembering that creatures of shadows are deceiving.
The pain as metaphor of life is the survivor,
she looks at me with pleasure, that I am now a bit braver.
carnival treats consumer psychology 101
bought a ticket
...forever ago...
crowds have changed
...the turtles always slow...
achilles loses every time
...it's a mediated belief...
consumerism means debt
...and needs relief...
leave that concept tent
...walk away...
break free
...become abstractly objective...
observe the observing
...they believe the consumer is slow...do you...
their ticket sales are booming
...wake up people...
the carnival concept tent owners/managers are typically psychopathic
...it's they who destroy/destroyed the world...
all for their own wealth gain and survival
stan
There exist some souls with deranged minds -
psychopathic narcissists and sociopaths
who never can change.
Something got twisted inside them
and it invaded their brain.
Strange hideous thoughts seem to follow them
since their youngest days.
They stalk; they punish; they kill.
Their pleasure is another’s pain.
Love they cannot give, for love they cannot feel
although they may be talented
at mimicking affection.
Those with the misfortune of being their kin
or those having been sucked into
their initial charming graviational force
and fall too quickly in love with them
will one day learn a lesson
(and hopefully not tragically):
Sometimes, sadly,
love is not enough.
Sept. 10, 2019
for Silent One's 'Sometimes love is not enough' Poetry Contest
THE NARCISSTIC PSYCHOPATH
A camouflaged poisonous spider in wait,
a web, coloured and decorated as gaslight bait,
enticing any empaths into a web of torturous fate,
becoming, darker, thicker and stickier,
the more, of the web you explore.
Feeling more blind, for an escape to find,
emotions and mind,
trapped, tangled that can't unwind,
with the demonic spider, spinnin n spinnin,
smilin in belief it's winnin.
A web history of victims and prey,
displaying stains of pain,
from their attempts of escape,
of mental emotional rape,
wearing the psychopathic spider cape.
Self belief without fear,
to burn the web,
for an escape to appear,
then pray to never stray,
if an evil psychotic narcissist comes your way
A Good Young Lad
A good young lad, a fine young man
As fine as you might see
He gave his life for a noble cause
To set his people free
Yet darker forces prompted him
To take the Martyr's path
And with cynical persuasion
Primed a weapon for their wrath
They filled his head with foolishness
Half-truths and downright lies
They filled his heart with hatred
For the people they despise
So off to do their bidding
Causing carnage on the street
Yet hoping for redemption
When the slaughter is complete
Woe to the puppet masters
As evil as you'll find
Psychopathic despots
Controlling fragile minds
A good young lad, a fine young man
As fine as you might see
He gave his life for no good cause
But a tragic fantasy
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