Direct marketing

Zip Zip Zip -- Zip zippity do-da zip!
Multi-level marketing scheme, corporate trust is but a dream
Coercion, manipulation and deceptive tactics
Come on in you'll earn in the next brackets

Who even makes money there?
What a predatory fucking joke
Cultlike brainwashing, affixing cattle to yoke
How do they do it, how do they fucking do it?

They dwell in sociopathic circles
--Or brainwash college graduates to use coercive sales tactics
--Themselves employing coercive sales tactics to rope more people in
--Make the customer feel good about themselves, and make the employee feel good about themselves.

The mantra goes:
"What's better, an employee who can sell twenty products, or train four people to sell five products?"

"We're gonna sit down and do your break even!"

So let me get this straight.
You want to know my weekly finances?

"Yes! Part of earning is learning where you have room to cut back."

Make them feel more comfortable with earning less
By suggesting where they can remove income stress
And directing them into the shared living space
So they can brainwash 24/7 like without an ethic's trace

What a disgrace
What a sad sick disgusting shame
To look people square in the face
Lying about the nature of the game

What a fucking crime.

Long line on love afar

Sunkissed spring light flame
Heartbeat's valleyed glowing
Curtained wonders shine

When love is a distant affair, from world's afar.

Some day, let me hold you. Let me keep you safe in my arms, and squeeze me like you want to be squeezed back.                      
And let me make you feel butterflies, and you make me feel butterflies.                
Let's be the modern romance, boy and girl from an ocean apart meet in farflung corners of Earth.      
And they don't know if it will work, but finding out if love at first sight can be true will make it more sweet when it is?

You deserve a thousand poems, a thousand roses, and a thousand kisses.
You deserve butterflies every day -- the sick tingling feeling of new love.
You deserve someone to call you sweetheart, and to call sweetheart.

Rancid Astrophil 18

So much for god damned star lover -- that's me
So much grief caused by things earthly mortal
Ignorant crutch -- Jovian sky portal
Desolate butcher -- rancid cream -- fact free

The last god in me hates all I despair
Feckless god damned governmental pity
Can't stave of hunger or starvation's city
Can't fast unquick -- laud justices unfair

Torment this fucking looker on of star
Making beauty-physic fairer than far
Of that cosmopolitan cosmic plane
To what metropolitan caustic fame

Makes of this fucking bullshit days-end game
When frustration makes keyboard warrior sane

Rancid Astrophil 17

Star loving ramrodding shit flinging chump
Let murky hate flow expelling all air
And finding not but musk in all things fair
Forget all tact and dump rear end on stump

Pull up a chair as to throw yourself down
Delengthen yourself like omega man
Ripped raw of bong starches baked black and tan
A mocking dickless state's shit warring frown

While madness condenses and all things suck
For Happning meets and meatings greets in sheets
In beds sleeping with nice women strange fuck

Let the world fucking implode in shy beats
Ass beaten raw with tiresome once shrugs
Tiring and retiring midst murder thugs

Rancid Astrophil 16

Three would be lovers who never were mine
The sweet mother I never met at all
Moon ghost who vanished leaving me to fall
Had not opportuned me to wine and dine

And of course that 苏州 most darling sweet
Of them I never did meet the first chance
When amour I gained at but a first glance
These three were all but a fleeting eye's treat

I am fortunate 'nuff as Stan Lee said
To have looks and smarts and cleverest head
But knowing enough to know what's not fine
And seeing that I'm lost in what is mine

Always in the back of my mind is there
The idea of a future not fair

Rancid Astrophil 15

The snivelling form of Richard the king
Hobbled in the corner like vile creature
Sad Gollum petting his precious feature
Sickly disfigured nature's treason thing

The rancid star lover with the ram's head
Fapping to many a forlorn lover
The wonder of new lust to discover
And the wits of his own nature fed

Then stamp out the light of those bloody spots
Forgetting youthful years of loving fucks
Forgotten in youths tearful tainted cucks
We instead light the match anew with plots

Get on with it be ghost or be ghosted
And throw away feelings at once hosted

Rancid Astrophil 14

Raw like the broken hearted canvasser

In his rawlike state of lost obsession

Clawing like Sephiroth in possession

As knowledge's danger-fuelled brasser

Take up the brass shield of adamant steel

And fling wooden splinters of anger's coined

The dangerous faggot twin trolls conjoined

If slivering silver tongues wonton feel

Word salad word salad forgotten rules

Your open wounded mind cajoles faint fools

Piquing interests as bullet piques life

Guns win wars and words win delight in strife

Power comes from the barrel of a gun

And phallic nonsense's of race be run 

Rancid Astrophil 13

And so my new direction begins here
With broken crown but memory's distant
Glance -- enjambed poet with mind so infant
The post post modern me sheds all his fear

Where the tiger failed the ram will not wait
Disposed of starlike wonder and thunder
Blasting starlight's flung vigour asunder
Run headfirst into hungered desire's sate

Ramrod this god damned fallacy of shit
Pound it till its new as a tarnished sail
Upon open winds and on grounded tail
Upon mounted arms and arms' last holy grail
Let loose passions and wars fear not to fail
Be the Whitman pill that Pound's eye did spit

Rancid Astrophil 12

And yet they never seem to hit home quite
These relics of a foregone conclusion
The sonneteer's last mindless diffusion
Do carry not respot's only first respite

Love poetry's only words dance on paint
When there is no page but foul odours pounce
On blogspot we write but shoot for an ounce
Of Celtic spirit ouisce beatha saint

To look upon that fair rancid Stella
Feeling noxious in sight of fair bella
Let go the dogs of war and loose your heart
Dream not young faggot of lovers' failed start 

Broken crown not the knot of destiny
My 苏州 sweetheart responded to me....

Rancid Astrophil 11

Whisked away when to 苏州 I did find
That she had fleeting interest in me
I would be jilted never loving me
Slying window prying masterless mind

I looking not on the cabinet hutch
Had perhaps missed genteel man's opportune
Moment when in silver spied copper moon
I paid in dutch, and left it so, and such

Perhaps then 苏州 is not for me one
To take to task lonely lullaby fun
Once and for all I would have known nothing
Except that I know not which I don't know

Know thyself -- always the maximum words
And yet they never seem to hit home quite

Wasted Fortune

My father is a spoiled rotten child
Collecting pogey and parental support
Two homes paid for
And over a dozen cars;
Three written off
License ceased in DUI

"Honour your father and mother."

One sign of many -- biblical bullshits
Failed axioms mantras and maxims
From a book written long ago
By the nobodies of the Earth

"Know Thyself"

A much more resolute

Maxim from antiquity

The Delphic maxim referred to so in

Pythia

What do I know other than tantric meetings

Fleeting moments predisposed distraction

Look about the urban jungle's fraction

My sexual urges are entreating

To have but a single dipthong of lust

Following a LinkedIn classified ad

More bets I could hedge unjustified dad

Amidst conjoined particles of hip thrust

Pitch

Birch bark sheets bloom as

Coriander lemon peels

Last ditched dried up pitch

Wakes

Wave wakes dew drop foam

Crescendo peninsula

Curtain drawn shoreline

Rancid Astrophil 10

Marks my demeanor with spring time season
And oh -- what a spring time season it's been
Thoroughly my dating apps full of win
Curiousness then exciting reason

Befell me with unexpected surmise
A fire in one's eye, so did I swipe right
Her cuteness prevailed, and matched my delight
When a tinder flame turned tinder surprise

A match made rematch, to match make a friend
A blind date perspective excited me
It might go, quite well, or oh so badly
Curiousness won, and so to surrend

Any disbelief made by my own mind
Whisked away when to 苏州 I did find

Rancid Astrophil 9

But he knows it won't be like yesterday
Which is the name of a poem he wrote
A rhyme of memory rote wills to float
In her somberness of ways and the way

Sweet 苏州 lost from my grasp to fancy
Electric her so presence makes me feel
Spiritless in divinity's eyes, steel
No holds barred in love's lost necromancy

I know her not, but she is not least known
To my world's liaison is fancy thrown
Cross windswept alleys in spiteful treason
O'er valleys of delightfulest reason

Adjectival neologism's bone
Marks my demeanor with spring time season

On Epic

This poem is just a jumble of thoughts expressed
in passing

Rancid Astophil 8

My 苏州 sweetheart responded to me

Each slight vibration poured with excitement

Followed by a dispairing inditement

I scrambled to pick up the phone with glee

What craziness is overcoming me

When these last few weeks pleasure's lust I knew

Meeting kissing and cuddling a few

I am now shadow of former glory

I met somebody I like I suppose

For whom which I cannot now predispose

Feeling like I'm twenty yet this today

A sad confused young adult meets a girl

He cannot presuppose what will unfurl

But he knows it won't be like yesterday

Rancid Astrophil 7

That god damned waiting game -- kills every time
To sit by the phone, waiting for that text
When despite tearless heart's aorta flexed
My own self-worth was quartered for a dime

And the testing days of uneasy rest
Came to a close after many lost hours
And thoughts of thoughts without female powers
To mend my bleeding heart with nestling nest

Shove up the day you ridiculous whiny baby
Forget all these pathetic things
Forget that you have no tooth or nail
To claw bites at serpentine servant's sweet tongue

 Kill the feelings of respite
And follow the bear into the night

The April 9th Sequence

The Morning of the 9th

Icicle winds' dull chill
Dusk free smoke skies part ways
Lone rays' soft simmer

The Afternoon of the 9th

Deep cove rolling blue

Matchlock powder clouds dream

Stones flutter under toe

Mixed love like mortar

Fish painting rough current

Wood walkways breathe life

Rancid Astrophil 6

That bitterless not ssweet taste o' divine
A putrid rock in cheek see not the damned
But lucidly makes boastful, fistful, words hammed
That lord of the flies is not truly swine

The effort last ditched in place perfect pitch
Fruitless nights of ποιέω in cafe
Finding no Sylvan words for beings fae
Discovering days withheld of the bitch

Moonlit horrors' tumultuless fever
Weights not the least dense of my worst days' day
Festering stones in tongueless cheeks don't pray
That the Sun hoists days as with moon's lever

The Poetic gesture of my own night
Is that I will be forgotten in spite.

Rancid Astrophil 5

When the robin in my eye had stood
A loaded gun -- looking, hearing, feeling
She flew away but I flew first, kneeling
Needing only that one finest for good

How than I had stood so far chained in yoke
Reined into me -- I never know least known
Upon my dew dropped glowing valley thrown
Visage -- Venusian than Vesuvian spoke

Said she 'pon I -- never had I known one so...
Quite like you -- familiar tones I hear
From other fails of lust droning, on go

And in so much had I but daring, dear
To look once at the face of my angel
Never known, never known, I but never knew her

Yesterday

Pinecones shed brown scales

Blossom petals descend

Green needles prick soil

Rancid Astrophil 4

I just threw a memento in the trash
One of those "I love you" journals
Half filled memories of haberdash
Circumstantial wherewithal

I love her not; no longer at all
Says broken hearted I, with thoughts of lash
To remain cool through an out fall
Expecting too much from minds of rash

Have another drink, princess
Next weekend you'll do it once more
Asking me to chauffeur you from your tinder date

Who, after all, wants life without awkwardness
For then you would be a bore
But not for your angry desires to sate

Rancid Astrophil 3

Star-crossed lover lost his chance
To make amend for lusts's lost dance
A one-two punch carried on balance
Boxer's grace -- harried electron's valance

Meaningful/meaningless, ditch your words
Frightful matchless, hitched up swords
Hacking away at visceral pain
Making a slay of hearts in vain

Acrophobic enemy of the state
Of knowingless gaze's gate
The darling known not in my eye
The starling speaks that those who cry

Shan't ever spy the leerless one
Faceless he whose visage run

Rancid Astrophil 2

Twilight breaks through dusks' hollow star
Bright young Aldeberan husks shallows afar
On star scorched shores of possibility
On those farthest moors of tranquility

Radiant cinders and ash most putrid
Daringest lingering and thoughts acrid
Glaring through pungent telescopes
Taking stock of forgotten last hopes

Giant red star, homonculous
Differences vastly homologous
Kissing new lusts' fair
Limbs weaving affair

The one affair that mattered never had
The bulging stars' tattered fever sad

Bright in His Wonders

Lights rake city streets
Cool wind moons beam down rays
Brightly he wonders

What never was

Rancid Astrophil 1

Bitter, rancid Noxious heart

This day doth dream a better start

Poor man's bluff makes truer volley

Of a man's rough choices foley

Decisions made never least true

Paid for later with trembling few

Mightiest a few societally unbound

In the cult of perfection I so drowned

Having once heard I carry you in my heart

I never looked twice at my failed start

Dating apps fill a void so I am defined

Pleasure in tinder meetings oh refined

But a dark dream throws me askew

A nightmarish though of romance anew.

waking from a bad dream

I let the day get away,

Unrequited desire,

Lost for a shotgun marriage of hearts

我想要靠近她

我希望。。。

I let sweet love's lost

Lust away,

Thinking throughout time

To a thought's last spark.

Always thinking,

Always trying to forget.

She was there.

我想。。。

Too late, 

too god damned fucking late

Awake from 7 AM's

Nightmare slumbers.

About she who never was

I don't know if she ever will be.

But I hope.

I am rattled.

Disraught. Totally disheveled.

What do I do?

History of the Western Poetic Tradition

This is a poem of sorts, but not entirely
If I could write the history of the Western poem in one sentence,
It would be this:

First there was Homer, and then it got harder.

Our Pictures

We still live together, and even share the same bed. We're in that awkward phase where we are still co-dependent for the time being. Wounds are fresh, and thoughtful tears are intermittent.

It's not going to work out between us, and it breaks my heart to admit it.

The possibility of patching things up is there (or was there), and as difficult as it is, when I look at our photos, or photos of you, and see all the things that I want in my life, I have to ask myself the question "is it worth it?" Although, I don't WANT to feel like I'm closing a chapter in a book, but rather, that our story is worth continuing, the answer to that question seems to be a hesitant "no." In all my heart, you are the person that I want to spend the rest of my life with. And when I look at your face, my blurred vision reminds me that that is what I want. I don't ever want to stop seeing your face that way -- I don't ever want to stop looking at you, and seeing things that other people can't see. Five years with you was a lottery of happiness that has forever changed me as a person -- even through the hard times; and there have been many hard times of late.

I want to stand from tabletops, roofs, and mountains, and cry out "I love you!" But what would it accomplish? Three more months of trying, and failing? Or perhaps three more years?

Five years... it's been five years, that have gone by far too quickly. My own parents, dated, married, had children and separated in less time than we have been living together as a couple. My dad, was scarred so profoundly, in a way that seems to have affected him for life, while my mom was also affected negatively in her own way by the separation. I know that I can be resilient, through these times, and do what needs to be done. Even if it is so difficult to see something that I want more than anything, so close within reach, and know that it's not worth it. We would never be able to work out our differences, and in and of itself that makes me feel great sadness... considering how close we have been these past five years.

I don't know what happens next, but I know that the grown up thing to do is to hold no animosity over what was lost, and to leave things on as positive a note as possible. I don't want the pictures we've taken together to be marred, or disfigured by negative feelings. I want to be able to look at them, and I want to feel like it's okay for me to cry, without resenting what is gone from my life.

I nub you bao bao. I hope that a part of me will always love you. Now, when I see your pictures, and the stream of salty tears meets my lips, I know that what we had -- what we have -- is a very rare thing for anybody to experience. However, it's time for us to stop making pictures together. It's time for us to start new.

Literati

When Rat Traps maximize
All affect stands in most articulate poise,
And when predicates terrorize
Alternative facts express mellifluous intention.

Hootsuite's scheduling of stock photos
Twitter posts and fans of your Facebook page.
Food pics, #hasthags and rage post dramas
Political savvy, time zones around the world

And things you do, as if nobody is watching.

Such as dancing to the tune of a different key,

And the drum of a different beat.

You may find love on Tinder

And on Pinterest, chocolate chip cookie recipes,

Censored documents, burnt to a cinder

And of interest, a Danish roux with
potatoes carrots and peas.

But there will be no puzzle peace

In this Mangalomaniacal haze

Before fires make double cease

That lasts for ends beyond days

Tiger 3-4

Part 3

Expensive wine as Barolo
Picked of the vine that grows
of the grape of Nebbiolo
A Piedmontese vinery rose

To be consumed by whom which partake
In thingstuffs and fineries
Which leave the soul in a state of heartache
For luxuriestuff from expensive dineries

Then sit cross from me, me and I
And share in this fermentery so fine
For which witness of, seek to spy
Of this that is so richest of the wine

But don't!
Or do.


Part 4


Taken from one extreme to another
Oh! So so so haughty
East Coast to Pacific North something or other
Dabble with drugs, oh so naughty

The low-calorie martini
Of MDMA fame
Burns not as the Scotch
Yet indifference the same

And not the same type of word name
Although alcohol is no less a drug
Than any other Absinthe, or Mezcal
When nothing becomes of a larval bug

威士忌酒
For me，you，my love, ic luvie þe

December 2nd

December darkly Memoirs of early autumn air Motors hum distant .

Foreplay

Poignant melodramas
Make angry faces at melancholy
benevolent Despots.

As the last Gandhi speaks

the last lama reconsiders

taking reincarnation out of the picture.

But reincarnation doesn't exist

And souls don't exist

Or ghosts of Gandhic disciples

Aliens don't mutilate sacred cows

for your pleasure.

牛肉很好吃
There's nothing quite like -- a
        Big Mac. But most all burgers are better.

Food blows electric daisy winds
                    Pushing up 9 inch nails
                    Against the ruddy teal waters
Of tall mountains.

Tantric massages know no
               Bounds when prostitutes
Bind legislation
And make bitter pills in Ecstasy.

Tiger

Fetid noxious swamp aghast
The sight of the Id before the Ego
Archetypes anxious for Anything at last
They hid backstage among sentence fragments, snorting blow

Romeo oh Romeo wherefore art thou
For I see not but a foul gas
Breaking out beyond and past the brow
Cross putrid swamp's mossy hairlike grass

Prowling tiger kisses sweet limericks
And men from Nantucket pick fights
While a dog is strong up in a Shangri-lift

Sweet female bodies sell marvelous mavericks
To masses of consumerist knights
Who don't shoot penises at virtual paintings

Part 2

老虎， 我爱你
康熙帝说了，可是我不知道
Tiger also loves me
But Kangxi died a long time ago now.

Is Chinese poetical, and English dry?
Do you beg to differ, me and I?
Romance languages are passionate! Right?
Germanic-coolness, eh mite?

McLuhan said things
The medium speaks about itself
Twitter communicates what.

140 characters or less.
Radiance. Brilliance.
Eat gall bladder of the Tiger for more power.

What Cucks Think

It snowed again today

It doesn't often snow in Vancouver,

Twas a record setting season they say

Covering the ground like a haggard reminder

Old time is still a flying,

It's the end of the world -- as we know it

When Carlson melts down. Ice.

With his laser-focused heat ray vision.

Dear "You're supposed to be the" Science Guy, Bill Nye

"I'M OPEN MINDED. YOU'RE NOT!" 

Tucker
P.S.

"Love the bow tie, more than life itself."

Let it go -- let it all go, instead

Remember the time of Stravinsky,

or the times of Beethoven, or Hendrix.

Or Deathcab for Cutie. Or Daft Punk.

The maelstrom whirls, and the

Jovian sky portal calls forth

the winds of the Polar Vortex.

When that glorious lamp of heaven

Signals to erudite Alex Jones

that globalists market hot yoga as 

part of their demonic Illuminati agenda

TO TURN THE FROGS GAY

然后他说话 -- to one million Americans.

And yet the climate, changes the least.

But other climates change more,

And it is a sign, that the change is

very great.

Mind the climate, both literally and figuratively.

Pythia

E, one half of Pytho
The oracle of Apollo's temple
"No man in Athens is wiser than Socrates"
More or less said.

---------------------------------

Are the properties of word
inherent in the name of word
Heo biþ genemned
可是她没有叫名字。

Discordant struck strings
plucking notes of higher things
High structures, fine chords
"arpeggio", "tighter, AND faster."

Though I sit a small breadth away
A city's width to stray -- some might say
Flow, as the orchid, dancing lady
Go, like Ovid, the didactic coronary

Metamorphose, Sinful Oni,
Do not lay þine Kawaii neko-eyes  (😽)
Beady as the Magatama
On mine sulfurous guise.

The 9th of November

Windswept static brown 
Brush over rugged Earth 
Electric autumn

Pan's Cabin

Gygax brings his Geiger counter -- evolving Gliscor 
But autocorrect says "Scoreline"
Meanwhile, Google knows exactly what I want.

刘晓波 is Empty Chair.

Control the masses, fly orange skinned kites

Can't unbreak glasses, stones unthrown trade no bites

Artificial Intelligence knows all names

And creates augmented reality games.

So many rhyming couplets

I shall at least refrain

From using nothing but quatrain.

For/get/ forms/, read/ ev/er/y/ syll/able/ stressed/.

Read every with three syllables, just in that line.

Enjamb

ment.

Poetry and poets are often self-referential

Is it a calculated risk to boast

In a world where Bolsheviks round up versers

And liberty-for-all types are birthers.

Freedom-fighter, terrorist or thought provoker?

Anti-establishment, anarchy or moron?

That sounds like Adam Kokesh or Milo Yiannopoulos 

A bitter, trite, stomach ulcer,

Eyes in hand, still can't topple two in the bush.

A nursery rhyme for the Donkey Kong Country generation

Before there was only one 中国
There were many middle kingdoms
But the game only really starts with
Snow Barrel Blast -- "starting all over again."

Born once more, in evangelical fervor
Saying quatrice, thrice, Ic lufie eow
Nouveau-retro hipster CHIC
Firmly plant yon tongue in cheek

Warlordism, gaylordism
Faggotry or tyrantry
This generation knoweth not the struggles that are real,
Bullocks, Bullocks, Bullshit, Bullocks.

Cheese and crackers, wine and burnt toast
Lists of things and things to boast
Thingstuffs and luxuriestuffs that are nice
Drive Bayerische Motoren once or twice.

Are there many middle kingdoms on single Earth
Or for every Tolkienism there's a Confucianism
Jungle Japes is Easy Mode,
But where is the global hoard of Bananas?