Hive Mind L IX

At war,

      Hunting spear grin tip marked with the scent a F(r)iend's silhouette, In dream wolves' skin epidermis tattoo arrives, As the lunatic predator hunts down our plastic comfort intention reverie, A conscious sedation mindshare bought by a newspeak terminology media hive televised speech.

In earnest anticipation of,

Citadel of Luck

For ages past,

     I circled the world of entitles life, a black in chains of hopelessness sheep in the dungeons of a luck predator's sand citadel universe, every ounce of my white chance at happiness was spent on the die roll, on that day. The one I met you...!

In earnest anticipation of,

Daily Poetry Podcast: Class Esteem Suite

Class Esteem Suite

Acceptance

Aspiration's struggle

Class alleged proposal suite

Illegal exit bulimic esteem plan

Slated terms of standing conditions

Not that the pretence of your masculine

Red aggressive projection card attended

Any third witness party attention

To caring for anyone or thing

Save overcoming

Said anorexic

Self Esteem

In earnest anticipation of,

On Spreaker

On Youtube

Malefic Condescension X II

Surprised,

       Angry vermilion dawn skies, Drowning aspirations of the Lonely, Dementia eulogy old  & Stuttering of voices' hand, Made of stained atonement glass: A work labelled 'shots fired forever lost is grace.' Whose eternal rejection sting is good fatal dream news that stifles the living: Save the homeless, who count themselves as hopelessly less than Karma's lost, Burnt sheep of a black reincarnated ashen 'once again' offering, Palette of infinite nameless soul recycling!

In earnest anticipation of,

Daily Poetry Podcast: Tone Aggression Deaf

Tone Aggression Deaf

Tone Defiance

Deaf Aggression

Volatile Circumstance

Of Unconsented Touch

Made by Pathetic Immoral

Trench Gone Mad

Rogue Men

In earnest anticipation of,

On Spreaker

On Youtube

Whole Foods Market: Reports (of me)

If you asked,

    Most every team member will give a different report of me, but one thing is true that all of them will confess; that once upon a fairly disavowed tale of an aimless dust collecting time, I believed in Whole Foods Market, but sadly my dignity was stolen by managerial staff given 'too many chances.'

      So I stood alone, after receiving messages and reports from fellow staff during toxic environment events that someone must stand up to... I did just that, but in doing so was left alone to dwell in silence before the investigation committee, thusly in the end were all my faults magnified whilst my manager smiled and grinned, slithering between snake skinned lips, 'you better get used to this, I'm not going anywhere.' 

     So once I was positively charming, a smile upon my helpful face, willing to go above and out of my way beyond to assist. But the timeline of me existence within can be pie charted and supported by witness that in the attention deficit end, I was a hollow husk of hope's former happiness.

     The existence of self externally to, Whole Foods Market, suffered. The art I portrayed for social change, away from white stigma blind acceptance of intolerant views and ignorance was in draught. So here I am divided between courage to stand by pressing 'publish,' or remaining silent, in submissiveness of attitude to the former Whole Foods Market manager's unsavoury phantom memory, an ache I can barely twitch my self over at night. Because once I believed and now I've been taught that I'm blind to proper 'help the world' actions. Writing to inspire seems a silly poetic device of meaninglessness gone awry in my li(f)e.

    I don't blame anyone person. I've been at the top looking down at the sphere of managerial tension, but diplomacy's nature failed and continues to do so, that is the true sadness. That 'Team Leaders' all over the world, within and external to, Whole Foods Market, steal the dignity of their staff until they go back to employment in a world of greed's depravity, seeking to find their humanity.

In earnest anticipation of,

The Little Malefic Things I

Reaching,

     Casually into the strangely dim for wax mythical stained magical glass wings of teething angels, Suckling on the emotion under bed of darkness terror dream infested prayers of children.
     
In earnest anticipation of,