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Fucking headache. Fucking genetic disposition.
Fucking wars, Sunday church bells, conspiracies
and conspiracy theories,
fucking bombs and white vans and blasphemy,
fucking death lurking around every corner, on the
110th floor or near a hovel in Bangladore;
Cerberus is a damned dog and there's sons of bitches
the gates of hell are never guarded, but what the hell
let's fuck and make it all go away.

Editing stage: 


If it were only that easy..................

Hi. Yeah, Stan....if only....

Thanks for reading and your totally appropriate comment.

Much love to you and yours.


author comment

a great outburst brought about by madness...i am not sure if it does give pleasure of an orgasm but quite sure writing this must have brought on elation of spitting fire smouldering inside...

raj (sublime_ocean)

If we spent more time fucking, instead of
fucking with each other, well ...

color me looney

Thanks gentlemen, I would have loved it had some women decided to reply.

This world is not going to change as long as women's priorities are not elucidated rather than maintaining our façades. Are American women really proud of their children, husbands and the father's of their children going off to war? Are American women really proud to be soldiers and fight for their country when the last *righteous* war was, in my opinion, WWII?

Terrorism and making war on one another doesn't take an act of courage. It takes acts of undying hate. It takes courage to come to terms with the fact that we live for war and hating one another. Otherwise, in all these centuries of *civilization*, we would have learned to negotiate the terrain of being human. Evolution programs in the murderous instinct for survival at all costs.


author comment

..addicted to speed, searching greed with all distraction
no thought it seems and that's the problem.

Concerning the decisions made by the higher-ups in government and big business; It seems there's little to no thought as to how 'right now' can affect the future, outside the picture of their profits and agendas.

Let's make it all go away.

crazy poem by the way
was line 7 supposed to be -there's sons of bitches, or - there're sons of bitches?

If I had it my way I'd be up on a mountain. Playing my guitar,
until my calluses grew calluses, my arse a chair and my smile into a halo

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