Poem #4 in my duel with Andrea Lodge McKillip my word was sesquipedalianism.

Heuristic Workshop

In response to a certain moderators opinionated indiscretions
My inquisitive nature has prompted me to post numerous interjections

I know for certain I didn’t ask for your rudimentary thoughts about poems
About truncation, rhyme scheming, and prose accepting poetic rhythm
Though your workshops are insightful there’s much more indeed to wordsmithing
No one here knows it all and to act as such is unsatisfactory.

I’m now inclined to acquiest rules about doggerel poetry
Though, words are subjective, and biased judges shoehorn themselves unconsciously.
Insipid? Sure. Some poets are in a quandary on how to get the words just right
We’ve all been there in some shape, way, or form and if I discouraged, I’d feel contrite.

In past experiences with those who proclaim guidance
My words were deemed superfluous and drowned out by the egomaniacal incumbant
No matter though, at least I know that it’s all these things rolled into one that makes the world’s design
I simply prefer to progress through trial and error instead of following pseudointellectual decline.

By: Charles Poore

Cowards Are Our Heroes

‘Cowards Are Our Heroes’

True-self transcends the sands of time
Antiquity places name on being
Triumphant, despite glass defining the spine.

Listen as the order comes, “align the cannons properly.
Forward march! attack the villains heart.
I’ll sit back, waiting for the general’s to report to me.”

All the puppets pierce, thrown like a dart.
The ruler writes tales of peace,
proclaiming, “war is indeed a work of art!”

The bugles sing a nightly song of the days recently deceased.
Slayed only by the venomous words of a propagandist’s pandering.
“They payed with their lives the price for your fuel to be increased.

They layed it down upon the field to still our enemies’ slandering.
I invite you to watch the news while enjoying your creature comforts.
Sit on your couch and reward yourselves with our corporations brand-name.”

Through the t.v. applause is heard, it must be deafened by the ruler’s ramparts.
For outside my window, all I hear, is the endless chirp of crickets.
Though, I can see an erie glow, through which minds are altered using beatless hearts.

Just like nothing ever happened I hear an ad for an events tickets.
Apathetic as I’ve ever been I look out into the cable’s twilight.
Stillness, stealing away the night, I whisper softly, “…to-hell-with-this….”

My thoughts drift away from caring what I’m told is wrong and right.
Inherently, I know it’s wrong to murder, rape, and dismember anyone.
It is as though much has been corrupted…it’s just the beginning of the night.…

I watch and learn what not to be, from those who proclaim to love ‘the son’
Indifference of my good-self took hold of me many years ago
And now I look around and laugh-out-loud, “it’s hysterical what these folks have done!

Everones afraid of something non-existent and places they don’t know.
No-one plays outside these days for fear of their new neighbor.
Best of all the back-seat mindset is ‘I’ll see you down below’.

Basically, you can’t get in your car without signing a phanatic’s waiver,
And it’s tough to go out anywhere unless it’s some planned protest or funding.
I tell you, it’s a shame these days, that all good is done with intent of favor.”

And so the sun will rise again upon the imbeciles who think they run things.
Supposedly, appointed by those who share their dreams and visions.
In a diluted world where minds are jellied by events that could be screened.

By: Charles Poore


Today’s the day I truly wish to see society crumble and the miniscule flee.
Perhaps my words will push this concept of seemingly awful thoughts and malicious contempt.

I’d like to see an off air screen on the box we call tv
I’d like to go outside one day to see plumes of smoke billowing in the distance whilst I laugh and joke.

It would indeed be a wonderful day for me. Sufficed to say, it’s just my way.
I would not partake in matters, I would just enjoy the disasters.

People running through the street as towns crumble in defeat.
A deserving rabble, though who’s to say? The children have no choice this way.

The chicken coups would be abandoned and salmonella would reign supreme.
It’d be the first widespread illness, before there’s famine and more disease.

I’d likely die before the chance to see any of this catastrophe.
Stabbed, or shot, by some home invader participating in calamity.

Oh well, that’s just the way it goes I guess, just a passing thought.
My hopes rest on the end of the world and what my words have wrought.

No more shows and newsfeeds, nor happy photos and pornography
It’s all over. Life’s a bust. Deaths a must, and that’s all it’ll be.

Some will hide in carved out caves and rename some place Hanah Lee.
It doesn’t matter, they’ll be found, by the hunters who consume the prey.

It’ll be great! Glorious! Stupendous! They’ll make fires and indulge in debauchery.
And time will simply carry on while the losers are dispatched out to sea.

Go on now, go cast a vote, for the least suspicious criminal
The “good one” that’s to take us there, rattling out mindless drivel.

Me, Myself: An Aspie

It’s easy to take one look at me and assume my life is fine.
Allow me to explain to you how far things are from being sublime.

There is no prescribed medication for my curious affliction.
However, I’d not be me without this quirky, rare condition.

Crowds of people moving, are dizzying, at best.
A mere ten seconds of exposure means I need to take a rest.

I look back upon my life, reminiscing on the years I’ve grown.
I can remember every moment that compliments my syndrome.

It causes me to obsess on things that most folks find mundane.
Chess, fish, and researching anything that has a name.

It keeps me distant from my peers and awkward family.
I’ve witnessed lovers’ falling tears whilst they beg, implore, and plea.

It’s not as if I couldn’t care. If anything, I care too much.
I warn others before getting involved that loving me is dangerous.

I tell people I’m not the same, their response is, “I believe”.
They get the message over time; then they pack their bags and leave.

I understand as best I can, leaving “well-enough” alone,
but; it’s impossible to talk to me when I don’t pick up the phone.

Eye-contact is, what it is: very few and far between.
Looking around helps me keep my focus, it is simply how I glean.

Sounds they do antagonize; which causes senses to overload.
I feign those days as best I can, ‘meltdowns’ relax me after I implode.

Public events are out of the question, there are no concerts I would attend.
Gatherings, for holidays, are nothing more than make-pretend.

I process real-life differently than people care to comprehend;
at times it seems it’s getting worse, too often I wish my world would end.

Sarcasm and irony are two subjects that confuse me.
I know not the difference in the former, while the latter’s meaning eludes me.

There’s few possessions that I hold dear, my life warrants little room for stuff.
A bag, some books, a stick, and hat (the stick’s for walking, not looking tough).

I carry on-and-on each day with aspirations of “normal feelings”.
My heart breaks for those I love when it come to my eccentric routines.

Yes, I feel, I have emotions; written word is how I convey them.
The lucky few who’ve seen them out-loud wish indeed that I repressed them.

Alcohol will numb these symptoms, though it’s not in my best interest.
Words like ‘loathe’ come to mind when I become that man I detest.

I wear my heart out on my sleeve, I wax and wane to my emotions.
You’ll find my mind in the “lost and found” when it comes to said notions.

I’m at war inside myself, the damage done none can see.
It’s my ‘Aspergers’, it’s not a thing, it simply is what makes me…me.…

By: Charles Poore

OBOS Updated 8118

OF CHARLES POORE (~the Wordsmith~)’

For the sufficiency of my imagination, that which I feel is the fibre of my existence. This is my god and it requires neither homage nor servitude; merely that it is at my disposal at all times.


This is me being a novice.

If you hang with the lame you’re going to learn how to limp.

Don’t worry about things that have gone wrong, focus on what has gone right.

Don’t become a stinky witch, because I will go which hunting.

Why pray or curse anything?

Fear no thing and no one.

Do not hold yourself hostage to tradition (however, allow yourself to be free enough to partake in any of your choosing). There are no validating ceremonies for the reality of being human, it is your value placed into life.

Let the dead see the light.

Most anything may be taken at face value, until it becomes worthless.

The logic of a god is that of, “I know not of my existence without the thought of me”.

Capture life, energy, light, dark, and gray.

Bind those that bind.

Some, are the darkness that understand that those that fear them could not shine without them.

True power comes from knowing that it’s not really there to begin with.

Summer is not the season to worry about flies. It’s the season to have flies.

1. P-K4
2. …there isn’t anyone here.…

Encourage, do not discourage.

People choose their own level of involvement in your life and determine for themselves how it is they engage with you.


First and foremost I am human.
Secondly, I would consider myself Omnist;
one who identifies to my own definition.

Personal questions take some getting used, sometimes needing to be digested before feeding the answer to someone who may not like the answer they get. When people ask it is because it’s something that has been on their mind and there is nothing wrong for them asking. If someone asks if they may ask one, the best response is a diplomotatic response and should be as follows:

“So long as you are willing to respect and accept that I may not yet be willing to answer.”

Excerpt from: I OMNIST (TOT)

Irenic 13: 1-15


1 I am an Omnist
2 My choice in being so is devoid of slavery and servitude to materialistic religion.
3 I am not torn away from God or gods. I am just not for any one specifically.
4 I am an Omnist and I am not against the idea of God or gods.
5 I am also not against the idea of there not being any God or gods, as well.
6 I am an Omnist and I worship no Satan.
7 Nor do I feel the need to partake in Pagan and Wicca rituals. Nor would I disrespect them.
8 I am an Omnist, and I am for the Greek and Roman Myths.
9 I am an Omnist and I am for The Norse and Egyptian gods and all that rest in between.
10 I am an Omnist; one life into another, and another over again and again until you reach the enlightened state of Zen.
11 I am an Omnist; Brahman and Hindu gods are fine by me.
12 I am an Omnist; each of these is all one thing to me.
13 I am an Omnist; each of these means nothing to each one the other.
14 I am an Omnist; I see that none of these would probably exist without the other; none of these things would exist without an Omnist.
15 I Omnist.


Over the course of the past 8 years I have come to discover myself. I have understood that everything that has made me who I am I have kept repressed for 31 years. Time managed this and the capacity of my mind has grown, and grows, at a method of measurement that has not been discovered.

it is not that YOU are, or that YOU aren’t, it is simply that things ARE.

YOU are in charge of your own happiness, no one else is and no-one else’s. The journey is out of your control and is only there to show you people, things, and places.

Be what you want to be as the situation arises. Do not feed into the torment of others evaluation of who they think you are (utilize the ignorance of others).


This is where the notion of Heaven is. One we create in the present.

Do not allow yourself to become fixated on your past and the pasts of others.

Forgive. This is indeed a wonderful feeling. It does not mean you care to be near the person who did you harm. It means you understand who you are, the harm you may have caused them, and grants the possibility to move forward with your life.


Like water, it is always adapting to the moment. As soon as it’s there it is vapor. Live in this time because there is no other choice. The moment we react, move, blink, or breathe the present is past and the gift cannot be returned.

Make happy memories in this time because when it is gone we have only to look back on it with either joy, or misery. The present choice is always in the palm of your hands.


Intuition: A natural ability that makes it possible to know something with neither proof nor evidence.
A guiding symphony of feelings in conjunction with the mind. A natural ability or power that makes it possible to know something without any proof or evidence.
A feeling that guides a person to act a certain way without fully understanding why. Something that is known or understood without proof or evidence.


Everyone is all the same. Take different forms if you want to get laid.

Not just a physical act. It is the sharing of yourself completely with a person you connect with.

Self-improvement is masturbation.

Chocolate beats diamonds every time.

LOVE AND HATE (you decide which is which):

When you become someone’s first trust and last hope.

A person cannot be blamed for whom it is they have loved. That is past.

Rabies will get rid of parasites.

Pity those who have to learn from people that say they hate. Bite your tongue and stay your temper in a simple way to negate.


My Immortal
Hotel California
Man That You Fear
The Perfect Drug
Love The One You’re With
Paint it Black
Battle Cry
Lost in Paradise
Carmina Burana ‘Oh Fortuna’
Anakin’s Symphony
Pachabel ‘Canon in D Minor’
Moonlight Sonata
You’re So Cool
Help From My Friends
Arsonists lulliby
Here With Me


The nosey and the voyeurs: Let them look, let them watch, let them see. Eventually, they will get bored. Or, they will become so fascinated that they will mimic you. And as it’s been said, mimicry is the highest form of flattery.

Chameleon: a.k.a. copycat personality. Someone who can be anywhere and do anything while rarely being seen. It takes a keen sense of empathy to pick up on this. When you meet one, learn and absorb all you can.

Narcissist: Do not engage. If engaged do not allow your mind to be warped. See through manipulation and take from the person a mindset that is otherwise thought of as awful. This ability can be utilized as clout when confronted by those who attempt to hurt you.


Home: Your heart can be taken anywhere, what you project gives the essence of who you are at any given place.

Nature: reacts slowly when damage is done. What you do now to harm it may affect your children’s children.


Your self: what you carry in thought, heart, and in your pockets.

Writing tools:


Spinners: Small objects for relaxation of mind. Silent silencers. Attraction purposes. Conversation pieces.

BOS: can be kept and cataloged in phone, thereby not being touched.

Thief rings (these will give you lust for gold so be careful. However, they give you the ability to bargain)

Crystal ball: see what you want to see, say what you want to say, share what you choose to without words. Charging works in sun (be very careful as this may start a fire), moon, and darkess. If it’s heavy enough it can be used as a tool to defend yourself.

Tarot cards: wonderful story, beautiful art, mystical to those who are unaware. If you have a difficult time understanding those around you, the memory of cards can help to be a third party consultant outside of the realm if divination.

Stones: Should be gifted (when stones are given this way with a felt knowledge behind them, they should be taken care of). Also, another good source of defense.

Sticks: extensions of the body. Various purposes including: meditation, cardio, walking, physical toneness, stretching, reaching, intimidation.

Blades: Practical and weaponized uses. Pocket knives all the way up to swords. Degree of personal comfort and can be charged for significance before use.

Earplugs: relaxation, muffling sounds, easing sensory overload.

Dugouts: Little wooden boxes for storing a peace-pipe and a small amount of peaceful smoke.


Conjure from within (there is no charge).
Endure in hope.
Always hold on to good intentions.
Do not be bitter.
Take the notion of “can’t” away from possibility.

WHITE: Protection, healing. Used until broken down or depleted.

‘White wall’


‘Energy domes’

‘Healing gnomes’

‘The Joshing’

‘Fidget Spinner Self’ (meditative purposes)
Use of staff (I prefer three sectional). Take staff outside and listen to the sounds of nature. Move to the rhythm your body takes you until spinning at full force. Be mindful of flailing sticks and become onecwuth the presence of the substances used to create the staff (wood, metal, plastic, etc…etc….). Play, relax, spin to music, spin to nature, spin to expel stress and frustration. Spin until you’re exhausted and come up with katas on your own accord.

GRAY: These spells are constantly in effect in a cyclic motion and help in determining which way to drift when using white and black in conjunction with one another. Keep balance between the love of power and the power of love.

‘The Village Idiot’

Play the role and expectations will be slim to none. You don’t have to be stupid, just remind yourself that heavy is the head that wears the crown.


It’s imperative to be responsive with the constant, back of the mind notion, that you truly couldn’t care less about another person. This sounds awful, but, it may likely be the best way to give the most heartfelt advice.

‘Pre-emptive awareness’

This is an outline for constantly reminding yourself of the use of anything that may affect another. Be it positive, or negative.

BLACK: Defensive spells used in response to major negativity perpetuated by a person or persons. Serious consideration must be taken before the use of ANY of these, as they are primarily aimed at breaking sanity and disrupting a person’s inner peace.

‘Killing With Kindness’

1. Smile
2. Agree
3. Hinge towards apathy
4. Take the good
5. Expel the corpse
6. Move on without remorse
7. Care only for your course

‘Projection of Temporary Insanity’

1. Always, always, ALWAYS be certain to question your own. This takes years to master and there is a rest period that needs to be adhered to after this is done.

2. Practice on yourself first so that you have a better understanding for those deserving.

3. It is not to be trifled with because you know who you are.

4. You’re always fucking with yourself. You realized you don’t know the difference.

5. It’s about circles of the mind and you must know the mind of a person. You’re basically setting loose mind gremlins in someone’s head.

‘Mass Belief Projection’

1. Let others fill their minds about who they think you are.

2.Do not dismiss the allegations, silently understand them better.

3. Agree to disagree and let others build a mystique about you. This is not to be what people say, rather, to sideswipe anything that has been said.


1. Used to break spirit for a length of time.

2. Be prepared for guilt as a consequence and repercussion.

3. Take all you know of a person and remind them that none of it is good.

4. This is cruel, hurtful, and damages the caster and the target.


Keep and protect them if given to you.
Expose yourself to all and you will have none to worry about.


God, gods, and goddesses: refer back to the initial quote at the beginning of the OBOS. If they are offended at my lack of homage towards them it is because I imagined it to be so.

Psychopomp: One that guides souls to the other side.

Muses: Physical and ethereal. The physical always leaves the artist, the ethereal appears in dreams.

Poltergeist: negative energy attached to an object and influenced by chaos.

Ghosts: muses, dreams, messengers, beings from an ethereal realm.

Mind gremlins: destructive seeds planted in a person’s mind to make them question who they are and the world that they built.

Demons: negative aspects of your personality that can be utilized for defensive purposes. Keep them on a leash and allow their barking to serve as a reminder of difficult times and thoughts.

Figments: products of your imagination that assist in changing personalities, thereby allowing you to cope with various situations.

Healing gnomes: Basically, the white blood cells that can be focused on to aid in the process of healing sickness, wounds…etc…etc….

Angels: Masters of disguise.



Marijuana (just a big thumbs up and yes a thousand-fold).

Psilosiben mushrooms (shrooms, holy shit, heaven in a cow’s butt).

Catnip (fun for the familiars).

Apple cider vinegar: Good for heartburn and a variety of stomach ailments. Can be mixed with water and consumed daily to boost immune system.

Beer (Proof that God loves us -Benjamin Franklin-).


Dreams are the plane of existence where your source resides.


Gina made a world. I had to travel through the snow passing all those I know. It’s a terrifying place that’s equally beautiful. You can travel the stars and steal your love on stage. Take them away from who they are wrongly engaged. Start a war with starships and watch them fizzle through the atmosphere. Gina’s planet, where fires burn and you’re six miles away from anything dear.


‘In Dreams’

In the winter when it snows
In the depths where imagination grows
We spring up tales and fantasy things
When the Wordsmith writes and any bard sings.


‘Crockpot Chili’

2 lbs ground meat
1 lbs laguniga sausage
2 bell peppers (red)
2 yellow onions
2 jalapenos
1 large marrow bone
2 cans fire roasted tomatoes
1 can tomato paste

Garlic powder
Himilayan pink salt
Chili powder
Let kids stir

Dark red kidney beans (optional)
Shredded Cheddar cheese (optional)
Sour cream (optional)
Corn chips (optional)
Chives (optional)

Mix sausage, ground meat, salt, garlic powder in a bowl. Brown meat and add to crockpot. Add hearty amount of cumin and chili powder and mix. Add marrow bones and cover crockpot. Set heat to high for two hours.

Dice onions and bell peppers, set aside.
Remove stems from jalapenos and split in half lengthwise, set aside.

Remove lid to crockpot and stir. Check marrow bones to see if marrow has melted out. Use knife or long utensil to remove marrow and add to meat. Add onions, bell peppers, and jalapeno. Mix and stir until blended. Cover and cook on high for three hours.

Remove lid to crockpot and stir. Set mixture aside and allow to cool, then taste. Add seasonings (cumin, chili powder, garlic powder…no salt….) if needed, to taste. Open cans of fire roasted tomatoes and dump in mixture, stir and close lid. Drop heat yo low and allow moisture to build for two hours.

Remove lid to crockpot, add tomato paste and sugar to cut acid. Stir, set heat to low and close lid for two hours.

Serving suggestion: place cheddar cheese in bottom of bowl. Add chili, top with sour cream and chopped chives. Mix and place corn chips on top. Eat and enjoy the flavor explosion!

‘Shodin’ (stuffed pig stomach):

1 Hog Maw
2 lbs andoulle or chorizo sausage
1 large potato
1 Vidalia onion
1 bell pepper
1 lbs portabella mushroom


It’s for all of you…all of you…

I don’t quite know what to call this. A first draft, a rough draft, a minor opus?
Dedicated to the proposition of I no longer care.
Here’s a dim world created between joy and despair.

A place where I hope we can all relate to
Because we’ve been there at least once and figured out what to do.
Oh well, whatever, it is what it is, so without further ado here it is.


Silence does indeed speak volumes.
Every response has been little more than vague
I say “I love you”; not confirming is considered rude.
Not to mention how you avoid me like the plague.

Silence has been well, it allows you to think
Think perhaps, that I won’t do what you intended
Calamity and chaos are not what rolls around my rink.
Time, or another person, have always been what’s mended.

Once again I’ve been left for dead
Like a long abandoned, forget me not.
A keepsake that rests in the back of the head
Or, a not often visited burial plot.

You’ll come to realize how resilient I am
And you know I won’t say “I told you so”.
I did indeed do all that I can
It sucks the way things ended though.

So, I write now from the other side.
Watching you from a surreal afar;
Wondering if the punishment fits the crime.
I’m the only one that knows who you are.

I cared too much, which you don’t care to see
I worried about issues that many who love you would.
I’m the one suspended in limbo, as you’d agree.
Leaving me in the dark again, is no longer any good.

I may appear different now
Being viewed through the eyes of contempt.
I’m wondering if there’s anything-
That can’t be feigned you won’t resent.

So, play your silent treatment game
And act like everything is fine.
Deep down inside I know you’re lame.
In time, you’ll look back on moments you were mine.

Oh well, whatever, eventually I’ll be just fine.
I’ll rise above the silent abandon,
And conceal my pain in rhythm and rhyme.
It hurts though, to say good-bye, my friend.


I got here one day while resting on the edge of an unknown trail.
Midway through my journey of life I got lost in the words of this tale.
It’s good to note that this place is my own and here there’s neither success, nor fail.
It’s just somewhere to go when folks don’t give a shit that is why I have dubbed it ‘Oh Well’.

This pilgrimage involves the shoulder of a person that’s somewhat aloof.
A ‘one’ that lives much of life without concern for being a goof.
This Living is oblivious when it comes to ways of understanding.
This Living is both waxed and waned in all the ways of man-handling.

This is indeed not Dante’s Hell nor a very good comparison
This place is named ‘Oh Well’ for its lack of caring denizens.
It’s vast indeed, much like a country, riddled with states and cities.
They’re all sprinkled here and there, some have adopted their own foolish deities.

There are structures, statues, bridges and walls;
There’s populations in places that would not be expected.
There’s monsters and mayhem and governments that fall.
If folks here cared enough, dead heroes would have monuments erected.

The sky’s always dark and it’s not often at night
There’s no celestial objects to navigate through this realm
Often times it’s a blind journey to get to whatever’s in sight
Again, it doesn’t matter though, no one cares who’s at the helm.

The monsters that thrive here are incredible creatures
some things from myth and some things from legend
They get drunk off fairy wings and spectate from bleachers
Caring more than the denizens even try to pretend.


Just another day in the lost realm of ‘Oh Well’.
It’s that gray place situated to the West of Hell.
It rains a lot in this place, which is to be expected.
The dreary days represent a smile not reflected.

If not for the unending water, life would surely thrive here.
It would be colorful and vibrant filled with animals to hear.

The trees would be the fullest green and birds would sing their song
Flowers, the like not ever seen, bring joy to those full of long.

The sun would shine a cherry red, at night it would reflect the moon
Kids would laugh and jump and play and days would often end too soon.

The candlelight that shines at night would ward off any monsters.
While health would be in perfect standard so there’s no need for any doctors.

Honeysuckle would fill the nostrils as it permeates the air;
One could sit on endless beaches, pondering, while lost in stare.

Winters would not be what to fret as early darkness approaches;
Snow would taste like sugar crumbs and there’s no such thing as roaches.

Spring would come and fill this place with all the a-forementioned wonders.
Bringing life to this stale land that embraces joy and laughs at blunders.

The Summer brings delightful weather for all to swim and carry on.
To run in the meadows, surf rolling waves, and wish upon a dandelion.

Fall captures colors that take the breath of every fellow and maiden
Though the seasons come to pass, no time here is ever traded.

Death indeed does come to all, looming over each and every creature
Shoulders smooth as raven claws. There, wings are placed for a second feature.

Intoxicating is the image of this happy, joyful, ethereal realm.
But, while my thoughts linger on this figment place, my eyes open to see ‘Oh Well’.


At times when I don’t hear from you it makes me think our time is ending.
It makes me feel like I’m the one towards whom you’ve been pretending.
It’s as if the colors that painted our world have dulled and faded;
Leaving both of us in an echoing silence that razes love we once paraded.

Welcome to ‘Oh Well’ again, seems I will be spending time in the realm not known.
I’ll capture all the heavy rain whilst I follow where the albatross has flown.
I’ll linger here in purgatory, just like a shade, while pondering the thought of my ghost.
Oh well again, to what could have been, towards the one I love the most.

I’m not sure what to make of this emotion known as love:
Dancing flowers, turtle doves, expressions and praise to the one above?
In a realistic way none of these notions make any sense at all.
Romantic gestures, sweets, and heartfelt embraces now rot on the other side of your wall.

So it seems we both indeed have our gray place known as ‘Oh Well’.
Yours is riddled with regret of risks not taken, for fear of putting another through Hell.
A lost travelers way of the path least taken, is feigning the day away.
Dangling from the noose the albatross carries, over the walls of ‘I Couldn’t Stay’.


I’m crossing the bridge of ‘I Couldn’t Care Less’
Which leads to the state of ‘Get Over It’.
The denizens there have endured duress
They have the look on their faces that says ‘I don’t give a shit’.

In the realm of ‘Oh Well’ all is not what it seems
Get Over It wreaks with the stench of the vanquished.
It’s the place of forgotten and strived-for dreams
Of no longer caring about being pissed.

The capitol city, ‘It Just Doesn’t Matter’,
Has taken the effort to ensure work days off.
It pockets the income of new denizens anger
Though officials don’t care they spend their days jerking off.

A river runs through it filled with bellied up fish
And once colorful birds that lost all their flare.
Folks drink from the water and make carrion a dish
The streets riddled with bodies that no longer care.

It’s plain to see that this cities quite bleak
(At least the steady rain washes the excrement away).
There is no chance of survival for the caring and weak
Nor is there room here for laughter and play.

Sufficed to say this is no tourist attraction
As I stare up at the windows of a long abandoned building.
One would think drugs stole this lands satisfaction
To send away hope with those that it’s luring.

A dismal reflection this unlighted place
Filled with no sounds, smiles, or delights.
A polished turd indeed is this disgrace
‘Get Over It’ is filled with silent frights.


Look to see the largest water known as the Apathetic Ocean.
It’s so unfeeling that no waves break here and all the salt sinks to the bottom.
No tide in and no tide out because gravity is an illusion.
Folks could swim if they really cared to, man-eating creatures starved from over seclusion.

In the distant, dark horizon, one can see the skeletal remains of barges, boats, and ships.
Some still a-float and others have sunk as you walk along the muddy beaches.
You’ll pass other strollers during the trek, not caring to pick up shells, or trinkets
You’ll know exactly when it’s night because it’s signaled by sand leeches.

A boardwalk runs a parallel on the other side of the Apathetic’s waters.
There’s not much there to speak of aside from the haunting, ghost-like ruins.
For miles these planks carry on in this place where no one bothers.
I’d put my bottom dollar on the residents, a cult of dusty, dark-cloaked druids.

The gulls don’t even seem to care if you drop provisions in the mud
Even the empty sound of space seems to carry on and on
Every now and again they’ll fall and hit the ground making a slapping thud.
Another dead bird and no one cares the denizens simply carry on.

It rains here too, on this wasteland beach and out into the Apathetic.
The laziness of all the water is a sight indeed to behold.
The droplets hit the still, glass-like surface, but it’s as if the ocean doesn’t get wet
It does not care, it couldn’t care less, science cannot explain exactly what I’ve told.

So go ahead, run, play, even frolick on the never-ending ‘Oh Well’ beaches.
Drink a bit because no one cares if you bother to go home.
There is no place that matters here on the muds of the Apathetic
The hum of silence on these shores will remind well to remain unknown.


There’s got to be someplace better than this
Someplace in the woods of mind your own business
Growing so tall it’s a shame there’s no leaves
To alleviate the rain deluging through no canopy.

The creatures that dwell here have made homes in the logs
In normal woods one would hear the croaking of frogs
Alas, this is ‘Oh Well’, and it’s forest of not caring figments
Littered with garbage, refuse, and worn out tents.

Broken glass is everywhere and dusty cans fill the ground
Dirty clothes, cigarette butts, and body parts can be found
Amid this disgust I stumbled upon a hidden pleasantry
It was sunk a bit into the mud but there it was, a wishing tree.

All along it are coins hammered halfway into the bark
They look somewhat like Dragon scales aligned perfectly in the dark
Some denizens, it seems, once held on to hopes and dreams
Or, perhaps, other passing strangers meandering through just like me.

Thus I reach into my pocket, my hand shuffles for a dime
A quarter, a nickel, even a penny would do just fine
Only washers, the two I carry to help satiate my restless mind
I clutch a rock and make a wish adding a scale to this dragon’s spine.

What’s my wish I’m sure you wonder with intense curiosity
But, if I told you it may not come true, or worse, it may come to be
Perhaps I want my washer back before my mind fill with restlessness
In ant case it doesn’t matter a in the woods of mind your own business.


Let’s take a climb up Whatever mountain where the wind doesn’t bother to blow
The rain here falls harder as one makes the journey to the peak
The weather’s so lazy it doesn’t get cold and the tops of the chain are not capped with snow.

In other lands, in realities realm, ones voice would echo with each word we speak.
Carried across the ‘Plains of Don’t Care’ is the places that sound should travel
‘Oh Well’s’, ‘Whatever’, just couldn’t care less. Not casting it’s shadow on a land oh so bleak.

On the way up one could find caverns, caves, and dead bones to unravel
But, few things rot on the slopes of ‘Whatever’ and all is still, silent, and old.
Whatever’s so lazy rocks don’t even roll they disintegrate themselves into pebbles.

So it goes that the story goes on and the trail is for those who are bold.
Climbing the sides of Whatever Mountain to look down on the realm of Oh Well.
Off in the distance I see Dante’s Hell and the beginning of the story he told.


A classy place in ‘Oh Well’
A place where I can relax and “be”
A break from not seeing anything swell.

I’m tired now and this place has beds, Yippee!
It has a roof and doors, also;
there’s a room in back where I can shower and pee.

It’s a break from being this realms only glow;
While still getting used to all of it’s quirks.
There’s a theater where denizens can watch a show.

Nothing like a respite from a constant rain that hurts
A warm fire in the middle and you can sit in a circle
At last there’s no mud, just plain, ordinary dirt.

Stars come out here and the night sky is purple
There’s also two moons, one with rings like Saturn
And a black dot that I guess is a wormhole.

Perhaps, it’s through there I got here and it’s how to return
To reality’s realm that’s quite unlike ‘Oh Well’.
Reality, my home, a place for which I yearn.

The fuck it ravine a nice place to see, hear, and smell.
I walk to the edge and out into the distance
I look down and it makes sense now, denizens fell.

More-so, bodies litter the canyon floor like a sickness
The call of daybreak burns the denizens that visit
They wake, they run, and leap with no resistance.

Lemmings, seems they had enough of ‘Oh Well’s’ shit.
They don’t care to dwell so they end it in droves;
Spiraling down into the deep canyon pit.

The only sounds heard are that of breaking bones
And a sickening thud as they dog-pile up
Creating mass graves that gods may use as thrones

It’s time to leave the fuck it ravine before I throw up.
Regurgitation I guess would be a welcome addition
To the blood, the feces, and the squishy red guts.

By: Charles Poore

My Omnistocria


“This is not an advertisement, so please, allow me to tell you a little bit about a place that does not yet exist, but one day will. My name is Rougan, and I’ve been a citizen of this floating wonder for years. Every time I return from visiting family, or from one of the neighboring nations, my breath is always stolen away from me! This nation is named Omnistocria. Though many that live on natural terrain refer to it as New Atlantis. Or, Pacificis, if you’re priviledged enough to venture across a continent or two to see that place. They are governed under the dictations of Omnistocraticism and thrive without any centralized leadership, or, individual economy within it’s boundaries. Omnistocrians provide all that is needed, utilizing their lives to take active roles to ensure each ship operates efficiently.

Children born on the floating nations of Omnistocria have the most engaging and hands on education. They are first taught reading, writing, and arithmetic. Then, further studies include the outside world, religion, historical events of our nation, and others. Once the children are of age they are taught how the economic system works and why it thrives so well. Upon this understanding each Omnistocrian learns on a weekly basis how to operate every part of each ship. There are no set jobs for any one Omnistocrian. A citizen from say, cargo, could also work the desalinators. Then, a week later, they could be sitting on a seat of consistent balance. Each Omnistocrian, being involved in all ways, helps new ideas and advancements to flourish. They are among the rabble of one another one week. Then, sitting at what most nations may consider the highest seat in office the next week.

Economics in Omnistocria work much in the same cyclic way. Those that started the nation 80 years prior invested all they had in their homelands stock exchange, as well as foreign exchange. Any interest considered profit earned was then put into creating Omnistocria, making it what it is today. The money fronted by each individual remained theirs. To this day, if a person wants to become a citizen, it is as simple as that! Though, individual funds are useless here due to the understanding of freedom these floating nations offer. Funds are only needed for when you travel to your homeland. The cost to get there is nothing and you may come and go as you please.

Deals and trade embargoes are made with allied nations, and because tourism is such and enormous business, Omnistocrians set up shop! The small, hand crafted items are sold daily while the music gets played. Here is where the new renaissance took place and is still making headway to this day. So, it’s no surprise that artwork sells like crazy. Each Omnistocrian is encouraged to earn a living here for the outside world, if they so choose.

It is no surprise that deep sea research expanded. The locations of these cities offered easy and constant access to the Pacific and Atlantic. This propelled humanities understanding of the ocean and it’s creatures. This also aided in satellite advancements and various other techs used in space. Alongside that, the study of planets and stars changed due to the nature of being situated year-round under once unobserved skies. This changed what we knew about weather and so many unknown aspects of our planet!

Omnistocria is an assortment of cruise ships, tankers, shipping ships, and even some decommissioned warships sprinkled here and there as museums. They are tethered together around small islands by means of catwalks. Though, it is also possible to charter smaller vessels through the labyrinth of canals. With each ship that is purchased or donated, Omnistocria expands by repurposing something that would be scrapped. Omnistocrians are the blood, these ships are the body for this self sustaining nation. They provide clean water, and also, renewable energy by means of the sun, sea, and air. Certain ships are designated for agriculture at sea and various other forms of farming to provide Omnistocrians with fresh meats, vegetables, and dairy on a daily basis. Cruise liners are where we Omnistocians reside and go about much of our leisurely days.

Waste management is handled by the process of shrinking matter. Thanks to that development it has made this nation a far easier place to keep up with. Also, certain solids provide ferterlizer and specific types of fuel, much of which gets outsourced to allied nations for refinement. Because only a few ships are designated for travel, Omnistocria has become one the the most environmentally friendly nations on the planet. The air is fresh, and it’s been said that the water Omnistocria floats on is the most vibrant blue you will see from space.

Since the concept of Omnistocria was founded under Omnism, religion is practiced by whatsoever an individual decides, as long as Omnistocraticism’s main laws are observed above all. Ceremonies are practiced in harmony and Omnistocrians don’t squabble over the nature of whose message is correct, we all got the message. Aside from the views, and the freedoms, the people are what make this place irresistible. I could carry on about Omnistocria for hours but that would merely scratch the surface. So many people from all over the world come here and I hope in another 80 years, that alone, will unite the planet.

2099 has been a great year for me and 2100 is looking better and better. I hope to be alive when our nation reveals it’s ideas for pyramid cities which will allow this planet to heal from the ravages of humanity. To think, it all started from the mind of a vagabond jotting his ideas down in a cell phone. He hid all of these wonderful concepts in a book titled ‘I Omnist’. As for me, I am going to get back to my cozy cabin. If you’re reading this, I hope one day you get to live this dream. Farewell!”

By: Seigh Pten