The Miser

I feel with my skin
I feel with my heart
I feel with my mind
I feel words are art

I think people seek misery for the simple fact to have something to talk about
I think people talk about being special, and different, to ignore the ignorance of their own lives.
I think the thought of love is over-rated and tolerance is a conversation that’s left out
I think the ability to see others as you choose is what makes the weak survive

I take in the notions of all those that think
And express myself with said qualities
Humilities poet and self proclaimed dink
That calls out the cowards and all those that tease

It’s nothing personal. Because I couldn’t care less
It’s your problem not mine and three fingers point back
So go fuck yourself and succumb to duress
Try to convince me that white is not black

I think so I am, and therefore I am
All the dumb shit that some dude named Will said
I quoted it wrong and I don’t give a shit
Write your own song then you simple dimwit

Go back to the first part of this stupid rhyme
If you’ve made it this far then you’re possibly dying
Not quite like me though, not that you’d notice
Your news shows the emperors important focus

My time is over and I’ve come to a halt
Good luck now with this prisoner’s Earth
Don’t forget God turned a person to salt
And then he made Lot live in mountains and dirt
Blinded him too so he could be raped
By his daughters no less! to bear sons with some worth

This THIS! Is what humanity has brought to fruition
Not you, not me, this sort of biblicality
We put people in place that respect this indignation
And then…we worship religiously!

Down with humanity and the writable past
Down with the obligation to gold-gilded task
There are no more heroes nor marvels to save
There is only death after being a slave

Have I written enough yet to get this point across?
Are you subtly thinking this poets an arse?
Have you looked beyond meme and said “hey maybe
This wakko’s like me when it comes to daydreaming”

Don’t worry. Nobody listens. Lest we forget it’s all about them
Didn’t you notice? something recently happened about dollars and cents and rupees and gems
That’s okay. The guy with the mask on was who you thought it was
You were right! Heres a compilation prize for sitting, guessing, and being a part of us.

So it Begins

Those of you who have been following this blog will know that I have had an earworm for an oddly long amount of time. I should be happy to report that, while it has not gone away, it has at least been replaced. However, I’ve become the victim of my own trickery. The song that has replaced it is the song I posted yesterday ‘Master Splinter’. This cruel injustice is at least mildly drowned out by tinnitus.

Now, of course I know it’s kind of strange to be a fictional character that fancies themself an author, having an earworm replaced by a song that they wrote, which doesn’t even exist. Buuuut, it is a strange world that people live in. It’s even far stranger viewing it through the eyes of the person whose head I inhabit. Of course, it does carry the potential to physically hunt down and execute said earworm. By physically I mean ethereally, but, I think you get the idea.

My biggest concern is that I wasn’t exactly kidding when I stated that this earworm grew teeth. Who the hell knows what other appendages and unearthly weapons this imagination has given to said figment. For fucks sake! Why can’t the owner of this mind give me som…oh look, a flamethrower…. I’ll keep you all updated on what happens.

BY: CHAROLETTE S. WEBB

Master Splinter

(Sung to the tune of ‘Dear Winter’)

Sir Splinter, I know you fell into some ooze
But at least it kept you concentrating
not reciprocating blame or drinking booze
And multiplying as rats do.
And Splinter, you know you’re not to blame
For Shredder, The Foot, and that talking brain
‘Cause Splinter you’re a cowabunga rat
The dad of four ninja turtles is pretty fucking phat

Hi-ya, ah ah ah hi-ya
Pizza fills the bellies of the teenage mutant ninjas
Sensai Splinter, where’d you get the cash?
Was it a desperate dash across some roofs
to engage in combat with some punk-ass cats?
If so I say you earned that cash

Sir Splinter, I hope you know that it’s all good
Being part of my childhood on Saturdays
And teaching meditative ways to beat The Foot
Shredders just a bitch-ass crook!

Hi-ya ah ah ah hi-ya
Please don’t tell Leonardo, Raphael or Mike
but Donnies my favorite turtle tyke, you see.
Plus, put in a good word to Ms. O’neal for me
Also, if it’s all the same don’t tell Casey Jones, alright?

Master Splinter, Easton and Laird’s main rat
I heard they no longer talk that much
For you that must equate to the word drat!
Don’t worry though I’m sure some day that you’ll be back.

If you enjoyed this little rhyme check out volume 1 of ‘The Kiln’

BY: CHAROLETTE S. WEBB

It’s Not Just an Earworm

Day two (actually, I started counting ten days ago and it was still pretty consistent for days prior) that I’m writing about this horrific earworm of a song…’Dear Winter’…. Folks have told me that listening to the song will get rid of the earworm. Alas, I have heard it numerous times per day and there has been no eradication of the incessant leech.

I wake up with the jingle in my head, with the few lyrics I know dancing their way from ear to ear inside my little brain. To top it off the high pitch “ah ah ah ah ah-ah” part bounces off of vibrating guitar strings followed by the line in which the poor kid thinks there’s really nobody for him.

Now, don’t get what I’m stating twisted. In no way do I find this an awful song. My ire is aimed at the earworm. The obnoxious little slug-like creature that is spinning some type of silky tune in my mind. The once cute and innocent thought has now grown teeth and manifested into a horde of ‘Dear Winter’ zombies. They must be stopped!

BY: CHAROLETTE S. WEBB

Breaking News

LONG WINTER

The hit song ‘Dear Winter’ by the popular band ‘AJR’ has inadvertently caused groupies to change their names to ‘Delilah’. The catchy tune is almost hypnotic in its simplicity and has the capacity to carry with it a very insidious earworm. By comparison, another earworm song ‘Hey There Delilah’ by ‘Plain White Tees’ caught the attention of one girl in particular. Delilah became a momentary muse for the band’s lead singer; catching her affections though he had only seen her once and met with her again thereafter. ‘Winter’ takes this concept to an entirely different level (and a degree of annoyance when the song is running through your head every morning when you wake up!).

Concert goers have reported an astronomical amount of fangirls (and boys) turning out to shows holding up signs that read “make me Winter’s mom” and “I’m no longer questioning”. It’s a lovely thought to be the doting parent of a child that doesn’t exist and it’s wonderful for a person to finally have certainty in their gender status. But, it undoubtedly holds the prospect for an army of soldiers named ‘Winter’ mothered by ‘Delilahs’ all over the globe. In a world where childbirths are on a bit of a decline. ‘Dear Winter’ is feared to cause an outbreak of ‘Generation Winter’, which puts the earth’s already dwindling natural resources at risk once again. Let’s hope in the next few decades this crisis can be avoided.

BY: CHAROLETTE S. WEBB

The Terrorists Are Now Your Leaders

Reasons why I’m not in charge (in no particular order):

1. Because of how I would get there. Due to exposure from my own government, I feel that all governments are corrupt. My suggestion to end this was once a peaceful idea and that was simply for everyone to stop paying taxes. This would cripple the financial status and basically there is little that could be done (save for hope to rebuild a foundation not made of gold). Now, my thought process on this has become a little more abrasive. Just burn it! Walk up to every capitol, tell the council-people, legislatives, senators, mayors, governers, judges, emperors, kings, queens, presidents (whatever name is placed upon them) to get out because its all getting burned and those choosing to stay will only burn with it. There will be no hesitation. The announcement will be made and the torches will be placed. This is not an act of terror, this is a response to the utter disgrace that governments have shown its people.

2. I would not form an ecomomy based off of a gold standard. I would eradicate finances all-together. Nations built on the foundation of gold have proven for tens of thousands of years to fail. Egypt, Greece, Rome, Britain have all fallen. Existences have been wiped out and our natural landscapes have been destroyed for gold. It makes no sense to live with this standard because it is a fruitless, short-lived life.

3. There would be no borders because there will be peace. Upon the eradication of greedy, propaganda promoting governments, we will find another way as a human race. To do this, we must be cyclic in our notion of governing. We must be kind for it costs nothing to be so.

4. It boggles my mind how people follow so blindly the paper trail laid out before them. It’s as if permission is being asked. Not so much from a good source that will say it’s okay to do something, rather, from an evil and corrupt entity that only provides the worse validation as an option claiming it to be a “good” option. The worst part about this is that the masses believe it.

5. The mob is fickle and stupid. It’s easily blinded by the wool it has produced and placed over it’s own eyes. It allows the corrupt to make sense of jargon. Jargon that is nothing other than clout for corralling.

6. I believe that imagination is the very fiber of our existence. The human brain has come up with its own name and everything that we understand about it. All we know of language, math, god, life, death, science is a product of our brain. It was first conceived and then made tangible. Be it through faith, or physical confirmation, at one point it was merely a product of our imagination. Therefore, my imagination is what I consider god, for without it none of this life exists.

7. I’ve tried time and time again to push forward the concepts of world peace. People would prefer to be stupid and argue over the scraps tossed to them. They prefer celebrities instead of their own self. They believe gold will sustain them instead of air, shelter, water, food, and companionship. They believe that the fellow man bleeding and toiling next to them is the common enemy. They believe what they are told and are bought off by what’s being sold. They rely on the words of liars and believe that the lesser of two evils is, in some way, good. Ignorance breeds chaos and the masses have certainly proven they deserve nothing less than that.

8. Religion is concepts that takes advantage of the meek. Just look around and see. No god has any need for religion. No god has any need for what we have. What use is it to any god. Let the lemmings run. Religions are like ant hills, full of followers. Religion and political parties share the same dynamics, and the best part of it is they both rely on gold.

9. Marches and protests and signs will all be done and over with once the sun goes down. You all listen and obey. You all comply with what they say. You are all responsible for this because you are the government. You are cowards and buckle to fear. Put down the signs and replace them with pitchforks and torches. A kindly resolve will likely not be found, because you are seeking resolve with liars, thieves, rapists, and murderer’s.

10. There would be only one law. Be kind.

Independent Contractor

This is what was once fought for
Life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness
Now, we’ve come full circle in a revolving door
To allow politicians to push us to regress.

We’ve fought for our right to party
As citizens, we abide by the constitution
Now, the parties that have been elected
Are attempting to mandate indentured servitude, from denizens.

They hide behind the walls built in Trenton
And the high-powered capitalistic approach
Stripping away rights slow, one-by-one
I read about this same sort of scenario, before 1941.

Look all around you in this small garden state
A gold diggers haven does threaten this land
Us meager freelancers, truckers, and poets
Our taking it back from the tyrants at hand.

Its either that or we fail and become a poorly paid slave
The skills that once carried us we’ll take to the grave
So become an employee for retail, or worse
It doesn’t ever seem as if the fat-cats wallets will burst.