|Here is Chapter 2, Act 2 of The Human. "Short Change"|
The BusinessmanThe Businessman by jackgunski
I see you.
I don’t see you, but I hear you.
I hear you breathing from over here.
I hear your nostrils flaring
and your lungs gasping.
I hear your eyelids flickering,
your eyes darting around the room,
and your tear ducts watering.
I hear the scattershot heartbeat,
as if it’s trying to escape your chest.
I hear your stomach gurgle like it’s
being beaten to death.
I hear your hair standing up on end,
and your pores flooding with sweat.
I hear every cell in your body
crying out in unison.
I hear them screaming, “Help me.”
Which is too bad,
because I’m the only one listening,
and I don’t even care.
Haiku Set 1Haiku Set 1 by jackgunski
Windows are like bars
That shades us and blocks the air.
Why don’t I break them?
Daylight sees colors.
Nighttime sees in black and white.
Blindness just listens.
My brakes have worn down.
My battery is dying.
How much do you pray?
I am not a rock.
I am a fucking lobster,
I don’t know guitar.
I drank way too much.
My bladder’s gonna explode.
Speed up this wedding.
My Sims couple died.
They couldn’t escape the pool.
Time just keeps running.
I need to wake up.
But, well, you know, I’m asleep.
Whatcha gonna do?
I read your dumb note.
So what if you’re unhappy?
I don’t give a shit.
I love this movie.
Don’t you just love the acting?
Isn’t it awesome?
Taste (part 2)
I don’t care about
your frigging movie. It’s good,
Now will you shut up?
Consistency (part 1)
Drink Coca Cola.
Eat Coca Cola ice cubes.
Make this your life’s work.
Consistency (part 2)
Opposite DayOpposite Day by jackgunski
People lack the fortitude to try to form their own opinions without others backing them up. We listen to our “side” and pretend that what they say is the only answer. We are manipulated constantly.
For those who think that they aren’t manipulated, I have this to offer: In America, there are two distinct political parties, both with opposite views. Almost everyone in America has formed an independent idea about how the government should be used within the country, and yet everybody has come to only two opposing viewpoints. What is the likelihood that this has happened by coincidence? What is the likelihood that so many people have come to the exact same conclusions without any coaching whatsoever?
Through the manipulations from others, we have based our conclusions. Do you want to be stuck in a mental rut based upon what someone else told you, or are you willing to be a more intelligent individual and consider the possibility that you might be wrong? You might be wrong
Difficult DecisionsDifficult Decisions by jackgunski
Let me give you a hypothetical situation.
You’re trapped in an elevator,
and you had to choose-
No, the fire button is broken.
The safety mechanisms are gone.
I don’t know why! Let’s try…
Ok, you’re trapped in a room.
The door is locked.
No, you can’t kick it out.
No cell reception.
You don’t have a cell phone.
N- Forget it.
You’re on a deserted island.
No, no cell reception.
You don’t have a cell phone.
You left it in the plane.
No! There are no survivors.
You can’t eat the dead people.
I dunno, they were poisoned.
The plane crashed in the water.
Know what? No.
Just tell me,
Did you want KFC or Taco Bell?
N- just pick one!
SilentlySilently she sits, sad, stopping sobsSilently by shanathehuman
Escape everything eventually
Scars show seconds spent silently screaming
Waiting, wondering, withering, whispering
Feeling far from freedom
Dismal, dark, damned
Harmfully hoping, helplessly held
She stays silent
Not In GAMING ModeNot in GAMING ModeNot In GAMING Mode by Michel-le-fou
For Puabi and lovers everywhere
Games and gamers are all around
Setting the world as their boards
They are running this into the ground
And I am getting bloody bored
Where will it end, and will it end with Love?
Or is love a game by now?
Who wins love has to throw the heart
Oh heaven forbid
Keep Love away from them now and forever
Love is not a game or a sport
Not in gaming mode
Puabi and I love devotedly
We play no games with Love
The Old Man's StoriesHey old man, pull up a seat,The Old Man's Stories by CoreyDevon
get comfy and tell me a story.
Tell me about how it used to be,
tell me about those days of glory.
Tell me all about those classic ladies,
how they always maintained a state of grace.
The way they always smelled like daisies,
and always had on the most pleasant face.
Tell me how those ladies revered their bodies,
and the way to get in was earned with respect.
You called them lady, they didn't answer to hottie,
anything less they would flat out reject.
Tell me all about those bold men of character,
how they lived lives of virtue and common sense.
How they stood by their morals and didn't stagger.
Taking only what they earned, no sense of entitlement.
Tell me how they managed their priorities,
"A man don't work, then a man don't eat."
How they took care of their responsibilities,
the family came first, then maybe a personal treat.
Tell me all about the innocent youth,
and how they didn't mature before their time.
How they only knew to live by the truth,
Happiness lies in the Poppy Moon
On purple moonlight;
A shiver in the wind:
Poppies are so tender;
Desire in red
Blazes till the evening sun.
The night is silent smiling.
Already red poppies bloom.
The evening sun rises.
How sweet is thy sleep?
Flaming temptation -
Sensitive and seductive -
In buds rest resurrection.
The velvet flame
In glowing red blaze
Died away in the poppy.
Lost in the evening light,
The SpotThe Spot
It happens in
the same spot
Mid-way through the green-tiled hallway
Just as I begin to pass the 9/11 mural
Before I reach the spot, I am a Queen of a stolen country
Though I wear no crown
Blood runs quick and hot
forced to flee and furious
Before I reach the spot, I am a killer of the streets
I sneakily stalk my target
Mind quiet and heart cold
Trying hard to feel nothing
Before I reach the spot, I am a lady of far-off futures
I think nothing of screens on the walls
or the green treadmill tiles
Nose aristocratic pointing to the ceiling
Before I reach the spot, I am a witch of undiscovered power
Only I can hear the muttered spells
Fingers twitching with paranoia
No one can know what I am
I am many things
Until I reach the spot
The smoke clears
and the mirrors crack
I must have forgotten
I am only me.
And I am ordinary. Safe.
No blue in my veins,
No blood on my hands,
No sliding on moving floors,
No magic in my fingers
Feet plant firmly