pestilence
25 April 2012 @ 10:57 am
Tabloid Schizophrenic  
I didn't know
that your child was a monster
She gasps
and slides away. one foot dangling
off the edge of becoming
something she's so scared of.

Human tendencies
to prod at flaws
out of sheer boredom
and mental
unrest.

a mundane society
seeks catastrophic
ends.

In death
we will all be beatiful
[same}

 
Tags:
 
 
Helping the neighborhood stalker...: Lunch, Lobby of School
How does that make you feel?: bored
 
 
pestilence
11 April 2012 @ 10:49 am
Ran Out Of Time, Please Try Again Later  
I wish to keep a minute
as a pet
chained behind my house
with a mundane name
for a mundane creature.

I would feed it agony
intravenously
I would bath it in blood
'til its coat glisten
sanguine.

And when the sun goes down
it'll howl
hoarse notes of sympathy

for the fool who seeks
to control tomorrow endlessly
me.
 



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pestilence
05 April 2012 @ 11:26 am
Holographic Ooze  
Minutes melt to ooze
seeping from the clocks
flooding all the halls
morphing into shackles
around ankles
and wrists

before imprisoned eyes
manifests a screen
replaying broken movie reels
of dream after dream

only the actors are replaced
with plastic manikins
whose vocal cords were severed
whose eyes were gouged
and only vacant holes remain

Its the most beautiful show
you've ever seen.

eventually the words stick
they chip through the harden exterior
of a decaying eardrum
and nestle themselves into the cracks
were they germinate
as you listen.
Festering these implanted thoughts
of everything you've ever desired.

But in(sanity)
you're nothing more then sack of skin
and brittle bones
pinned vertical in the center of a room
locked from both inside and out
drinking in the sweet words
of people who know you better then you
skin tanned a swirl of iridescent hues
from the television rays.

When minutes become obselete
only then will come tomorrow
and today is yesterday.
Tags:
 
 
Helping the neighborhood stalker...: Lunch, Lobby of School
How does that make you feel?: excited
 
 
pestilence
04 April 2012 @ 11:00 am
Negotiable Fees, Tax Not Included  

She hid the heart,
In a crudely constructed
wooden box
crammed into the gas tank
That was chronically on 'E'
In her vehicle of choice
A rusted black hearse.

It's hatred drove her crazy
It's destination hell.

A duet of conflicting
sentiments
A cacophony of scripted
last words.

She tore ads from the paper,
"til by chance she found the one

'Death for hire' Negotiable fees.

Seems the economy is tough
on everyone
She muses. Grin
Laced with malicious glee.

She hid the knife
in her chest cavity
That was chronically on 'E'.
In her body of choice
A delicious host.




 
Tags:
 
 
Helping the neighborhood stalker...: Lunch, Lobby of School
 
 
pestilence
31 March 2012 @ 01:50 pm
Do You Want Fries With That?  
 Confidential media
Tinted yellow beneath cheap light-bulbs
In the janitor closet, of the newest terminal
Donning automatic light sensors
No need to flick switches.

In this office of luxury,
Words are taught their worth
Through top secret conferences
Determining one's fate
In foreign tongues

Concise, Is an art form
To a fault. When genocide is crammed 
Into two cent headlines
On the bottom left
column the world news tab.

The feds have got one thing right,
Physiological tactics
Are this seasons trend in warfare.

Propaganda tastes best
With my morning coffee
Black, with no sugar coating.
(We're on a first name basis now) 

Will that complete your new world order?


 
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How does that make you feel?: distressed
 
 
pestilence
31 March 2012 @ 01:43 pm
The Eye In The Sky  
Under surveillance,
we mustn't speak lies
They're always watching
A.I, Eye in the sky

Fear knot.
Our fellow citizens
Fear knot.
Our fellow spies

Its about time,
That the revolution is
Televised
On high-jacked
Proxies
Unregistered wifi

Fear knot.
Our fellow citizens
Fear knot.
Our quick demise

Fear knot.
Our fellow citizens
Fear knot.
Our fellow spies.
 
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How does that make you feel?: uncomfortable
 
 
pestilence
29 March 2012 @ 05:09 pm
Impact  


/Lets talk/ When the skies are bled black/
/And the world reeks of a stagnate abyss/
/Lets talk/ When the buildings crumble/
/And people and soil are unified again/

/I.ll paint the lines on your parking lot/
/With the blood of orphaned children/
/I'll even give you a discount/
/If the world.s still turning/

/Burning/Burning/

/The match on both ends/
/Laugh as it burns your finger tips/

/Lets talk/ When the guns are loaded/
/And let the annihilation begin/
 
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Helping the neighborhood stalker...: My Couch
How does that make you feel?: excited
 
 
pestilence
28 March 2012 @ 10:20 am
Amputee Time Traveler Wins The Race  
 
Tread lightly fearing hours
as though they're
manifestations of internal fears

Oh no! here comes one now
I must retreat into my turtle shell
and hope the earthquake settles
with minimal damage
Ill prepared for the after shakes

The humming persists
Cresendoing
Until,

Ah! its arrived upon us
Another tricky demon
on the escalator of life

Always running backwards from time.
 
Tags:
 
 
How does that make you feel?: stressed
Helping the neighborhood stalker...: School, Math class
 
 
pestilence
26 March 2012 @ 03:09 pm
We Bring These Things Upon Ourselves  
 I can feel the wind,
Mother natures disease invested breath
Flowing from, the so named weather retardant window
In my room of the hell above
Where the fumes tickle my grey matter
And cause tsunamis in my stomach

I feel possessed by the spirit
of a russian cannibal
roaming the siberian wilderness

I wonder if the government could tax
Mother nature, if she'd be charge with tax evasion
and tossed in prison if global warming would
come to halt

Maybe then my window wouldn't be cheap,
But the wind would be an intruder
But for now I'll sit uncomfortably chilled,
Before my provocative window.
 
 
Tags:
 
 
Music;: Psycho; Puddle of Mudd
Helping the neighborhood stalker...: The Vortex
How does that make you feel?: nauseated
 
 
pestilence
26 March 2012 @ 10:40 am
I Think You Need To Be Reprogrammed  
Sometimes at night,
When I feign restlessness
And stealthily sleep walk to an open window

The wind whispers conspiracies
from the neighbor's lawn

I believe they were right all along,
She's needs to be reprogrammed.

'til the day comes,
but follows not the sun
I return to the window

She has yet to move
She needs to be reprogrammed

It wasn't 'til the doors split open,
And armed termites came gushing in
did I ever consider the possiblity
That She replaced my window with a mirror

I need to be reprogrammed.

 
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Helping the neighborhood stalker...: School, Math class
How does that make you feel?: anxious
 
 
pestilence
26 March 2012 @ 10:33 am
Comfort In The Subconciously Known Unkown  
I'd rather be an animal,
But then I'd rather not

For an ensnared rabbit
Is comparable to an average human
A cowering shell
bounded in societal obligations

That from this sniper's perch
Resembles an iron cage
Often associated with the pound

We're all outcasts of our own doing

 
Tags:
 
 
How does that make you feel?: anxious
Helping the neighborhood stalker...: School, Math class
 
 
pestilence
25 March 2012 @ 03:02 pm
Plastic Bag Ski Masks- Buy One Get One Free!  
Plastic bag,
Ski masks

The dust never settles,
On vibrating heart strings

'Til the draft ceases
To seep between porcelain lips
 
The hands of the clock
Grope at clicking,
Ticking insects

In this prison cell,
Where stars are floaters
In bloodshot eyes

And pitiful sobs
Are battle cries

Steal the truth form her lies,
Burglarize, her unforgivable crimes
Slaughter her in the bed she lies,
Woven in shards of memories
of the better times

Redemption in the blood of saints
And familiarity in smooth plastic
Edges.

Her features never did look quite as soft

Plastic bag,
Ski mask.
Tags:
 
 
Helping the neighborhood stalker...: The Vortex
How does that make you feel?: pessimistic
 
 
pestilence
18 March 2012 @ 01:03 pm
An American's Dream  
Last night I dreamt of mushroom clouds
And nuclear fallout, sprinkling from the sky like manic glitter

It was a pleasant dream,
For that of its kind

Amidst the dust and blood saturated papers
I found a post it note I thought I had lost
A reminder to call out sick

And then I awoke,
The room was unnaturally silent,
Save for muffled screaming outside

To find my poor clock dangling from its cord
To the street below, through the new hole in my bedroom wall

Looks like I'll be calling out sick today. 
Tags:
 
 
Helping the neighborhood stalker...: My Couch
 
 
pestilence
17 March 2012 @ 06:03 pm
We Will Be Incinerated  
I peer out my window,
Harmlessly gazing upon nothing 
Until a something,
A tiny black something
No make that two tiny black somethings
Hover into view.

Flies.
Two damned black flies
Peeping Toms
Mocking me, in the setting sun

A horseman,
A harbinger,
Tell tale sign of the impending,
Wrath of the psych vampire,

Heat
Tags:
 
 
Helping the neighborhood stalker...: My Couch
How does that make you feel?: artistic
 
 
pestilence
16 March 2012 @ 10:02 am
The Number You Are Trying To Call Cannot Be Reached  
Faint, plaintive notes creak from the cobwebbed vocals
Of the ensnared songbird
Who watches passively as the crow and the raven
Fruitlessly argue whose ebony feathers are a percentage darker
The raven a silent spectator
Chimes in at dull moments with an ominous assesment
Of a bird with, but one wing.


Tags:
 
 
How does that make you feel?: restless
Helping the neighborhood stalker...: Science Room
 
 
pestilence
07 March 2012 @ 08:51 am
Scraps Of Something So Grand, The Only Things Visible Are The Useless Parts  
Minimalism ceased when only four chairs remained

We walk
the same paths
each day
somehow
managing to
never walk in
another's shoe-
print.

The world was cut in half last night,
Well, one side is significantly larger,
But for the sake of equality, we'll call it all the same

Fragmented figments of a fractured fantasy
For there's not enough 'f's in the world
To describe how I feel about thee.
 
 


 




 
 
Helping the neighborhood stalker...: The Kitchen In Which I Do Everything, But Eat
How does that make you feel?: discontent
 
 
pestilence
02 March 2012 @ 11:19 pm
Floaters In The Eye Of A Blind Man  
 Insignificant,
Seconds drip like wax from a forgotten candle
A ticking time bomb, - wildfire
Spreads farther then the eye can see,
Then soil smeared fingers can reach
From beyond the grave 
Of yesterday

Brittle

Twig like bones,
Weave a meek structure,
That snaps effortlessly 
Carving the blackened sole
Stifling life with a noose of 12 cords
Too intricate to reconstruct

A ghastly murder no more thought of
Then the sacrificed tree
Stripped and peeled into something resembling hope
Dangling from the edge of the box,
Worshipped by none,
Embraced by a vast majority

A Balanced World Where The Minority Masquerades As The Majority

Evicted from our prison cells,
These restless spirits wonder,
Possessing the shadows
to your left - to your right

A single exhale
Snuff out the life
 
Tags:
 
 
How does that make you feel?: stressed
Helping the neighborhood stalker...: My Couch
Music;: Communion; Otep
 
 
pestilence
31 January 2012 @ 07:57 am
The Labortory Oracle  
Mutated,
Encapsulated

The sun doesn't shine in hell.

World's fallen out of sync,
out of sanity, out of time

The duct-tape mistress has yet to come
it's three minutes past noon
my stitches are ripping- undone

it must be stopped
it must be stopped

the blood takes too long to dry,
and its already compromised
the tinfoil's effectiveness

Slither. Slither.
Manifestations,
Alien invasions
creeping up my limbs

Mutated
bound and sedated

there's too much sun in hell.

 


Tags:
 
 
How does that make you feel?: tired
Music;: The Gun Song; Ayria
Helping the neighborhood stalker...: English Class
 
 
pestilence
27 January 2012 @ 11:20 pm
This Is How It Ends  
Reluctant Saviour 

Starvation is much too cruel,
Darling, we mustn't deprive the Gods
For their wrath is twice the force of death
And demons will manifest
In the darkest of chambers
Under the spell of the witching hour

Please, do understand
Darling, your flesh is still ripe
Unscathed by the horrors of their heaven

Pre-assembled Rapture

Spaceship gods, unrelenting with their
Experiments. Plastic straw lobotomies

[Where are they now]

The sky was technicolor
Glittering with embers of the final test 

Look at the world we've painted
It reeks of self loathing and tastes of gasoline

(name me, blame me, so the judgement is fair)

Decorate the scapegoat in our surplus fleece

'Religion is defective, user beware'




 
 
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Music;: War Head; Otep
How does that make you feel?: gloomy
 
 
pestilence
27 January 2012 @ 08:11 pm
The Devil's In The Mirror  
Seven minutes to sunrise
I navigate the labyrinth halls
With a sense of adolescent desperation

As the final cobwebs of the moon
Tug playfully at splitting ends

[Don't let them taste your fear]

Stumbling forth
I come to a sudden; halt

[What fool would place a mirror here]

Somberly the sun crests
The trees, my saviour
My hour glass

[Condemned at sundown]
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How does that make you feel?: restless