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( It's not all aliens Giorgio Tsoukalos ) Please someone forward this to him.
Not All Aliens
A people lost, or their story drowned,
Their cities burned, their knowledge ground.
Forgotten hands, forgotten lore,
Their world it was, but is no more.

They say it's aliens, every time,
Warping space and folding time.
Space is not like fabric to bend and fold,
A fairy tale believed, once told.

You can't just bend it then expect
That it would snap right back
The whole idea defies logic and physics,
And is just plain whack.

To claim that calloused hands could never raise
The stones that stand, the lost stairways,
The doors to nowhere—yet there they stand,
A mystery men set in rock and sand.

Just as they built, they thought, they planned.

You pretend they warp and bend and break through time?
That’s more than craft—it’s grand design.
To twist the void, to bridge the stars,
Would take more fuel than fuels are.

To transfer energy to matter means
Why need anything but exploration?
Why wait till we can defend ourselves?
Why the hesitation?

If nothing more than to observe,
Why the visitations?
Don't presume to have the answer
Or lord some false pretense,
When in reality, none of it
Would make the slightest sense.

To be they would require a world exactly like ours.
The odds say no.
A copy Earth? A twin in space?
Same pull of tides, same moon in exact same place?

Same burning sun, no more, no less,
Same speed, same distance,
Exact same gravitational resistance.
Same atmosphere, same air,
Same day and night cycle to produce
A skin so smooth, so fair.

The air must match, the tilt, the spin,
The mix of gases held within.
One shift, one slip, it all would fail,
Life’s balance set upon a cosmic scale.

The monoliths, the stones we carved,
Were not by hands from worlds afar.
No ships, no greys, no cosmic guests,
Just beating hearts, mighty minds, and broadened chests.

OUR ancestors, yours and mine,
Not aliens, not magic, and not divine !
Forums
dead end trade your time and effort sites
trading reviews with losers and talentless idiots  that only want  to hear themselves and have no humanity, empathy or will to understand.
What they want is a robot that hands them a little gold star every day. Swipes
likes and clicks.
over ran stupidity  chick lit and dudes that cut off their *****.
Great poets questioning everything and who and what they were or could have been ?
Sad lonely ugly fat girls
long for just A friend .
My beautiful thoughtful wonderful Novel
sits currently languishing
surrounded by ****,
dullards, rip offs
and A.I. slop.
It's not what you know it's who you know.
Behold the BEAST  666, the true face of consumption,
A zombified monument of monster ambitions,
Rising like the inevitable  ***** tide,
Unstoppable and wide  deep inside  we ride  not to hide, devouring, with each new stride.
A thousand shiny  pink *** products scream in delight,
Luring the willing to the neon-lit night.
Tucked in the folds of glitter   by gold,
The hunger grows, the story untold. Sold !  Sold

From fast food chains to discount galore,
The never-ending quest for more, more, more.
best happy meal prize ever..
A size that's monstrous—  Spiro  Sized makes Jumbo look small and here you thought you were IN  as hopping mall.
both in might and in girth,
A MASSIVE  sturdy man's man *****
One of assured capitalism, for ALL it's worth.
The real gun
we all want to hold and shoot.
Squeeze my trigger
its such a hoot

**** on my twisted ambition, in  this rampant display,
Turning lives into transactions, day after day.

Plastic-wrapped dreams, promises hollow,
We march in line, content to follow,
In the consumerist frenzy, no thought of the cost,
As we devour and consume, lost  and embossed.
This cycle, a monster, endless and wide,
We feast on excess with, nowhere to hide.

So let us bow down, and worship the spree,
Come to Spiro on your knee
For in this world, we are but... the debris.
A zombified existence, where nothing is real,
Only the hunger for what we can beg borrow or steal.
The monster grows, and the world shall see
A gleaming  vibrating self lubricating reflection of what
we used to be ?
Only 7 easy installments of
$ 29.99
3  DD batteries ( not included)
All ***  embly required .
I've got a coupon for that just gimme a second
A hole
four dozen

theater of

the reason why Wendy Chetserton said all th....
hell
every excretion... along play record of Spiro T Agnew
A dress made for mucking stalls
Sign language in the dark
filling the bath tub with

candy made of pure electricity
Barbies face ground smooth as  "optomological"   lenses
an old dogs ***** in a storm of ice and snow buried deep and timidly useless like so many feckless vacillating leaders of **** for brains provinces enraptured in religious ecstasy

and old rusty tractor
Barbra Streisand's discarded *** toys  
like cacti covered in molasses
sent to the moon by soviets
and espied by eager young enthusiast
why the ginger bread man did run so fast
things we know to be unknowable
succulent ground narwhal horns
that old three handled moss covered family Gradenza

ice picked eye *****
for the joy of christmas morning
in Cleveland as the river burns again
Bat mans **** strap served on a platter  
at the charity ball
crisco slathered porcupines  adorating  in Putin's private **** list
mollusk fluttering like rain on a tuesday
hamburger tinsel roach spray
buy one get one free
Kurt Cobain wasn't alone
or original in saying:
"Teenaged angst has paid off well.
Now I'm bored and old,
self-appointed judges
judge more than they have sold."

Ha ha, OLD  at 25  ????
dead at 27,!!!
pearls before swine...

"Hello, hello. Hello, hello."

"We can feed off of each other.
We can share our endorphins."

You can say whatever you want about the band Nirvana.
I don't care.
I'm not them.
And they've already received
as many accolades as anything can ever hope to.

Lao Tzu or  the old master
He would ramble about
good and bad,
right and wrong
as an objective
illusion.
Talent and voice
though
are
NOT  
subjective
or
an
Illusion !
Keep your “contribution,” it’s nothing to me,
A dropped stone in a void, lost in the sea.
Did you just read some **** and think,
I could do that? I just need a link or a site to **** on. Well, please move along.
Some stupid English class assignment gone
ALL wrong

Did you even feel  something between football practice basket ball and track
Please *** up your ****** unwanted work and take it all the
the **** back.
Was Mommie on the rag?  Daddy drunk again?  did you have to finally feel something ?
the fire in the pen,
Or just take the words and play pretend?
You think your pain is some bold creation,
When it’s just a shallow, weak imitation.

Did you sit there, scribbling on your page,
Thinking you grasped something, anything? Did you feel something and confuse it for rage?
That half-assed poem, that scribbled pedantic cry,
Like you could speak for truth, just 'cause you "tried."

**** your tired themes of lost and found,

What would you know about a battleground or anything worth saying
You'd be better off silent in your little room
Spend more of your wasted time
just "praying ."
You think you’ve got the depth to try and break the norm,
All you do is whimper or hide behind a form.

Haiku? Whoop tee frickin' do. They must all be so proud
of you.
Sometimes just sometimes...
blubbering
holding your knees in your elbows and rocking there
IF I could console you
the truth is though
I don't really care
I used to love you but that is so dead and gone it seems like a joke of itself I didn't mean it when I said I wish you would just die already

you don't get to get out that easy
leave me here to do everything
  
You make me  , make myself into a person I never wanted to be
my mouth moves the words come out
but it's not even what I want to say
I yell I rant but I don't mean it
it's all just learned behavior
just motions I go through to seem alive
I'm already dead
I can't wait to be buried
I suffer here for my kids

I'm not saying you killed my dreams
they been dead for a long time
a long time

the spring inside the gun
makes that satisfying little sound
just like in the movies
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