There are no words
for the irrational feelings
of the gross human heart
(gross as in not subtle, nor very subtle,
referring to body, although I didn’t think
I was subtle either)
the body is filled with such putrid substances
36 impure I think
it really doesn’t matter the number
two is too many
and we share ours like it’s love
There are no words
for the irrational feelings
of the gross human heart
so I can make expressive sounds
but they express no sense
(so I’m not going to try)
everything I’ve done so far
now seems so meaningless
if I cannot stop being mean…
for some reason the familiarity
is that of breathing, self-cherishing
it ruins my life continuously
while shamelessly claiming my importance
as number one…
you’d think I’d spot the rub…
But it’s a poisonous devil, desirous
attachment, uncontrolled desire
a hook, a leash, a pleasure garden
growing harvests of pure deceit,
in all my suffering, in all my lives
you’ve hurt and harmed me
and still, I strive
love me, don’t leave me
impossible wishes
a one-way street from,
and a door half-open that
must open or swing shut
Each action, not over, plants its seed
later arising, believed,
this appearance of inherent existence
incorrectly conceived
and permanently perceived
prevents us from achieving
such peaceful states of mind
patient acceptance
compassion, loving kindness
rolling with the punches
flexible with time
healing from hole punches
or cruel one-night hoaxes
so personal at the time
we see ourself as a pinpoint in time!
How utterly boring!
And how painful the suffering!
find a right and find a wrong
do more of one and less of the other
and that’s a great start
because at the end, at death
we get an answer,
for which we may work our whole life
to make it a happy one
free from the most evil joke
of our unforgetting world
we never forget our pleasures
but we’re ever forgetting they’re turning to pain
even when the anguish hits immediately:
A REFILL PLEASE!
So I wish to volunteer so courageously!
may all negativity ripen upon me
and how about instead, spontaneously
all my cause for happiness and love
upon those
countless migrators absent freedom
let’s live free from uncontrolled agony
cleverly disguised as ecstacy
a snake in the garden that slurs
Eat of this tree
it’s why we see things mistakenly
it’s why they tasted the earth, curiously
and – subtle though it was –
the taste appeared so sweet!
how easy now to crave strange meat
our flesh is not enough for long,
so be prepared to watch the cumming
turn to going – if you do wish to cum that badly …
36 disgusting substances or more!
take it from me,
the subtle is less messy and less troublesome
if you’re the type that prefers childish fun
I highly recommend a different plane
it’s all mistaken anyway…
focus on good causes, attainments
My grandpa would say,
just try your best
The Halfwit Writer 