How do you feel?

corpse

I thought life was fair
but its dark with evil
highest form of racism
I lost lifes trust and got stabbed by its injustice
Now, I'm dead, i guess you fine?

lying face up, six feets below
I see my undertakers
I hear the foot steps of the morticians
the embalment of an outkast
Yes, i'm dead

My spirit at heaven's gate
Revenge calling me back
The termites start thier feast though
My only option is give them more meals
Yes, I'm gone beyond skies

I feel powerless, though I'm drowning in Arsenal
I feel hopeless, though I'm destined for justifiction
Superstitions; reincarnation was only a bluff
yes, i feel dead; a corspe
No remourse, thats how my love for you died.

Had a hell of a night,
But now its time to face reality,
Alchohol gives me a mask,
Hides the real me...
Is being an alcoholic the way to go?
Just so people will never know?
Keeping this stabbing pain in my heart,
But never allowing it to show...
Happiness is a foreign enemy,
That I dont want to know,
Its nothing new,
My emotions are dead along with my soul...

Subject: Refusing to Give up

To the system I'm defiant
as I rescue myself from shame
refusing to consider myself a failure
given, realistically necessary
though how awesome to be
considered ancient in present time?
Bouncy my life remains despite
my coordinated ways to
remain untouched till death
as I scatter ideas across oceans
deep enough for the world to take
notice of my shallow attempt to belong
but screw fear, I shiver over nothing,
The Wes Craven of this long cavern.
How pathetic would I be if I didn't
scrape myself from the ground and
shrugged off the tears from my face?
Skip a beat and sip wine as I sprout
into something cruel just to be noticed
by the same world who left me for dead.
Smoke, stop and squeeze the filthy air
out of the placid stain called respect,
but I'm still curvy stretching to stop the
suffering that terrifies all my last hopes
of ever becoming something. Delirious.
Earsplitting with Satan while he tries
to run me over with the left tire of hell
I'm touched by his concern but I will never
be obsolete. I'm enchanted but I decline.

Just eaten, feel like crying, chest cold, temples throbbing slightly,
Pulsating turbulent thoughts into a vacuum behind my eyes to leak from the corners,
Rippling my vision with every blink.
Everything seems blurred, I sit in soft focus and allow my world to give way.
Mind over-active but failing to grapple with emotion,
So no thoughts really sum the situation up.
Just the sights of light sources being stretched across everything,
False sun flares from neon screens lacking heat.
Spheres of luminous reflection hovering just beneath the surface of my eye,
Sun spots for a rainy day.
Drops of water on the canvas of my world.
Dew stained vision keeping the grass fresh.

Cemeteries and Necrophilia

Burying the dead is a waste of space and people should get over their irrational hatred of necrophilia.

Corpses aren't people, they're inanimate objects. As soon as something dies, it stops being what it was in life. If a human dies, what's left is flesh, bone, and hair, not a person. Why would valuable land that could be used for homes, or schools, or parks, or grocery stores, be taken up by burying slowly rotting meat? Why would the living use money they could spend on mortgages, or food, or on those who are still around to appreciate it, on fancy boxes that will only be covered in dirt and never seen? I've heard the argument that graveyards are for the benefit of the living, for people to have a place to go to remember their loved ones. Really? So, without a random plot of land and a rock with their name on it, they would forget the deceased? Can't have been very close to the stiff then, can they have? How about, if a person wants to think about their dead loved ones, they go to the person's home, or the place they first met, or some other place where significantly more (as in any) memories of the person were made?

At this point people usually ask what I would like done with all the bodies, as if expecting me not to have an answer. I say put them to use. For example; can human remains be used as fertilizer? Well, grind them up! And THAT usually earns me horrified looks from anyone I mention it to, then they ask sarcastically if I would let that happen to someone I loved, expecting that to make me rethink my stance. If my nieces, who I love dearly, were to die, I would of course be very sad. If I saw their bodies afterward stripped and going down a conveyor belt to the grinder, I would feel nothing. Corpses Aren't People.

And now for the other half of the title, the part that likely got most people to click and read this; necrophilia.

I'm going to add this for clarification's sake before I begin; I myself am not a necrophiliac. I feel the need to mention that because many people, ridiculously, will refuse to listen to anything someone says if they think they're arguing for themselves.

Now that that's out of the way..  Necrophiliacs are considered horrible monsters by most people, and I ask; why? There's a hygiene issue, sure, dead bodies rot, but there are people with vomit and excrement fetishes and, while they're considered gross, they're not condemned as monstrous. Then people usually spit out the 'brilliant' insight that corpses can't give their consent. Neither can tube socks! Or, fine, if that inanimate object is too far off for an adequate comparison, how about mannequins? If a person has a fetish for /this/ inanimate object which is person shaped, are they monsters? Are they rapists? No, they're not, and to call them such would be illogical.  And of course here usually comes the point where people try to make it personal for me; they ask how I would like it if it was MY body. Well, if souls or whatnot stick around after death, I wouldn't care; my corpse wouldn't be me, my ghost would be. If souls don't stick around, then I wouldn't even have the capacity to care, now would I?

Corpses. Aren't. People.

Depending whose around me
I change how Im sounding
Theres no way Im astounding
Im Defying compounding


of day to day life
trying to survive
and avoid a nosedive

Im happy sad
disapointed and glad
insecure yet feeling rad


this is the year of really bad
but thats top secret
Cause I act like Ive never had....

any issues at all lol


around most people

others judge for weakness
so I slack with greatness


pretending to work hard
around the boss-
cant play the jerk card
or act as if any hurt scared

me in anyway


=
I use my energy
to choose the way ya see

or think of me
haha
sometimes life can stink ya see

anyway
today
I feel-
OK

the end

Subject: over protection

Viewer Discretion

Advisers on our tv screens
are scared of words that bite;
perhaps they’ve never seen a dog
open it’s jaws and fight.

Inspectors in our children’s parks
can’t stand old metal slides;
if little jimmy gets a bump
he might not learn to hide.

Subject: I thought about "diamond encrusted knuckles" and then I just wrote around the line.



Diamonds and Fists


You don't have to say a word,
I can tell by the twitch in your neck
and twisted lips
that you're going to love
hating me.


Staring at your blurred figure
framed in the bathroom doorway,
your overbearing gaze
casting me
into the Black Hole of Calcutta.
Clenched fists
holding your head between the bars
singing me another bloody lullaby.


I feel your anger
screaming down
my cheekbones like razorblades
with furious splendour of an old flame,
licking
my diamond encrusted knuckles.


Your shattered reflections,
a hundred little jagged eyes
watching you lean back
against the door jamb,
shaking your fucking head.


My demented dashboard monkey
riding me
back to hell.


The sound of glass under foot  
and splinters ricocheting  
into the basin and onto the tiled floor,  
echoes deep within the gaping crater
smashed into the medicine cabinet door.  
Damp air from the wall cavity,  
wheezing  
like a hole in my lung.


The pills rattle
in my head,
looking for the bullseye
and your standing there
counting down
from ten
two
one


Diamond dust awash in cold blood
swirling down the drain.
There's a body on the floor
and I deny everything.



Written by Alexander Case

i feel ok, thanks for asking

you?

I got this one up on DUP, I wanted to attach a spoken word file to it, but I can't access my old YOUTUBE account.  I went to retrieve my old password and ended up with a new account.  DUP won't let me post any vid from my new YOUTUBE account, and any attempt to return to my old account is proving fruitless.  Anyway, here's the song link:

http://youtu.be/ljIFPrmgIME

Please let me know if the damn thing took because I'm still running old school connection- talking copper wire thin band, and I too tired to check.

Gun Point

If I brought it with blood, then the blood is all that you’d ever see.
Yeah, it’s easy to condemn the messenger-  thinking your conscience is clean.
But you never hear the spoken word concerning indignities,
because delusions of the righteous can be heard anytime on anybody’s machine.

Like a spoon fed monster gone postal and off to his paradise,
after painting his home with blood and kissing his wife goodbye;
I stare into the face of the gun, from which, my reflection shines,
and I reflect  on the ways that have failed to liberate Palestine.

subject- how I feel

I feel like I'm king of the universe
yet later today I'll feel like I'm buried by the kingdom
and sometime in between those two feelings I'll feel like the shit shoveler,
the town clown, the constable, the knight in shining armor, a crying little boy, the fucking murderer, traitor thief
I'll feel like I'm exiled by the kingdom lost and banished yet longing to return only to burn it the fuck down
I see a shattered mirror of options on how I feel, laying in a pile, pick up any one of them with bloody fingers
bleeding knuckles, and pick how I want to feel, cut by every option,
a thousand twisted winding roads all leading, in the end, to the same graveyard.

Subject: Nature

NATURE’S SYMPHONY


Nature’s own way of harmony
is a perfect blend of symphony—
the chirping birds’ duet
with the cascading waterfalls
in perfect rhythm
with my heartbeats,
as I watch the wildflowers
listen to the musical breeze.

Sounds of thunder
echo in my dreams
Your silent prayers
awaken my soul
from deep slumber
only to find out
you have a murmuring heart…
a pin drop broke the silence.

Listen to the howling of winds
as the wolves cry in unison
Hear the mighty waves
pounding the ocean shores
and the crickets chirping –
the cacophony of sounds
announcing a perfect storm
is coming.

There is nothing like
a perfect storm,
but I prefer
nature’s symphony
on a calm and peaceful day—
when silence blends well in harmony
with the soft breeze
caressing my face.
It could calm my nerves
and take the stress out,
makes me want to stay
with you forever…
and listen endlessly
to nature’s symphony!