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jake aller Mar 2020
Corona Virus Poems


Index
The virus from hell is amused
End of the World
Every Day I Turn on the New
Irony Meters Blow Gaskets
Chaos
Corona Virus Fears Tanka
My Phobias Overwhelm Me
Fear Fills the Air
Is this the best we can get?
More Trouble Every Day
by pass the alarms spreading across the land
corona cinqku
Taking a Walk in the Corona Era
A lone man stands in an empty parking lot
hell of a world we live in ain’t it?
Pause for a moment amidst the media madness
I feel as if the whole world needs to be cancelled
The Virus King Cried
Bring out your dead
the Virus Came From Hell
The Delivery System of the Virus is Round
the corona virus is testing us all
the call goes out
the horsemen begin to ride
nature spirits revolts against humanity
Last Human on Island
Corona Virus Haiku
the virus came from hell
bring out your dead cries
Be Afraid  haiku
Death Comes Knocking
the virus from Hell haiku



the Virus from Hell is amused
the Virus from Hell is amused
laughing at the world’s panicked reaction
as it marches through the world unabated
infecting everyone in its wake
as the world awaits its fate
the virus smiles he ain’t no fake
he is the real deal
he is death itself
he is the end of the world
the grim reaper is smiling
god is silent as usual
the world’s leaders
dither and rather
as the economy craters
everyone hoping that God
will save them
the virus does not care
insults and orders do not work
the virus simply does its virus thing
infecting everyone it encounters
and thousands will die
equal opportunity offender
killing the rich and the poor alike
but more poor people
just so many more poor people
than the few billionaires
the virus smile
his work is done
and mankind is doomed
so be it the virus thinks




that is the way of the world
and the virus is the new king
of the world

End of the World
end of world
the fears world-wide
soon find us dead
bring out the dead
ll the dead die
death lies here there
there goes here
as death here comes
soon here death comes


Every Day I Turn on the News
debunking the bioweaapon conspiracy theories
every day I turn on the news
nothing but news about the virus
the virus from hell
the world is filled with fear
and my anxiety levels rise
every time I turn on the news
oh my god I say
we are all going to die
and I am so afraid
afraid of everyone
afraid of everything
dreading the latest news
and nothing relieves my fear
I watch the world
loosing its collective mind
wondering how much more of this
can  we all take
I scream out
Dear God save us all
god is silent as usual
and so I realized
we are doomed
perhaps it is the end times
perhaps not
I turn off the TV
try to stay calm
hoping the madness
will not overwhelm us all


Irony Meters Blow Gaskets
the Irony meter gasket
is blown again and again
with every statement
of our chaos president
and his endless surrogates
promoting the latest Presidential
on spot guidance by our great leader
that must be true
because our dear leader
says it is so
The President accuses his democratic rival
of being senile and needs to be in home
and will be run by his radical left allies
and the right wing media
echoes the presidential absurd comments
refusing to acknowledge
that the president himself
is rapidly fading into dementia
and his radical right cronies
are looting the government
driving out expertise
even in the midst of pandemic
Oh  yeah the irony meters
are blowing gaskets
every single day

Chaos
the world descends into chaos
as our world leaders
led by the chaos president
are overwhelmed
by the smallest
enemy of all
a simple virus
straight out of hell
blows through the crumbling
third world public health infrastructure
living proof of the decline of America
and no one is prepared
and panic ensures
with every Presidential tweet
as people don’t believe
a word he says
conspiracy rumors spread
everyone believes their own reality
as the world spins out of control
the chaos king is in his element
convince that only he knows
the deal
and everyone else
is iust a bit player
in the reality show
that he presides over
and so the rest of us
hunker down
just hoping for the best
as the panic and
chaos spreads faster
than the virus
are we doomed
can we survive
will God save us?
he is silent as always

Corona Virus Fears Tanka
Corona virus
lurking fears all around me
we all will die
the TV screaming nonstop
Must be afraid be afraid

My Phobias Overwhelm Me
lately I have become scared
of everything
the news scares me, the corona virus scares me, the presidential race scares me, fears of gun men in the street, terrorism, fears of getting sick, fears of dogs, fears of other people, fear of loosing money, fears of becoming demented old man, lost in his nightmares on the street just another invisible homeless *** in the end of his life
all these phobias overwhelm me
time to walk away from my fears
and realize
it will be alright
everything will be alright
As long as I have you
by my side

Fear Fills the Air

watching the news
CNNMSNBCFOXBBCKOREANNEWSJAPANESENEWSBLOOMBERABCCBSNBCGOOGLEA­PPLEREUTERSAPIRUSSIANTVCHINESTVFRENCHTV
blather on and on
the world is ending
pandemic is coming
we are going to die
and the fear grows
and the restrictions grow
travel comes to stop
the economy comes to  a stop
everyone is so afraid
our leaders fret
say that everything is fine
as the world enters
the second great depression
and we are faced
with the reality
all over the world
idiots in high places
the masters of the universe
are in charge
the internet spreads
the wildest rumors
must be true
I read it on the internet
the truth is lost
in the shuffle
no one believes anyone
everything thinks
that they know
it is all a conspiracy
the thought comes to mind
we are all so ’S….
end of the world
is upon us

is this the best we can get?
watching the news
one wonders
how in this great country
of ours
335 million people
among the most educated
richest people in the world
we can end up
with such idiots in high places
running out country?
these idiots in charge
no disrespect intended
both political parties
all corporations
and our institutions
except maybe the military
has been infected
by this virus
of epic incompetence
greed and indifference
to the general good
who loudly constantly proclaim
that they are Christians
while violating
all of Christ's teachings
Jesus if he came back
would scream out
I am not Christian
it is all about me
and mine
and you can go
to hell
if you dare to disagree
and so we tweet and titter
and watch the news
reading the latest rumors
and I wonder
if there is a god
or if there is a devil
and are we overwhelmed
by the dismal news
why can’t we have better
leaders
better people
in our leaders
around the world
has god abandoned us
are we in hell
or did god ever exist
except in our fevered imagination
will god save us all
or will the world
just go around the sun
indifferent to our pleas?
no answer
must watch the news
consumed by the need
to see the latest news
and so it goes
and I wake up
the sun is up
and the nightmares
fade away
until I watch the news
and the madness consumes
us all again and again
as the corona virus
marches on and on
consuming us all
as the world falls apart
these must be the end times
I hope I will be raptured away
even if I am not a Christian

More Trouble Every Day
The Old Zappa song plays
on in my head
every time I turn on the news
and see more trouble every day
no one can delay
the trouble coming every day
Frank Zappa died too soon
before the horrors of the Trump era
and the corona end of the world plague
that he would have foreseen
if he had lived on
he was truly a prophet
crying in the wildness
while making money
as an over night sensation
as he saw the slime
oozing out of the TV sets
we will do what we are told
for the rights to us have been sold
And Jesus too
has been sold
to the highest bidder
nothing but a business deal
in America
the land of the constant deal
and so I turn off the TV
and realize that
the torture never ends
the torture never ends

Trouble Every Day
more trouble every day  Frank Zappa
Well I'm about to get sick
From watchin' my TV
Been checkin' out the news
Until my eyeballs fail to see
I mean to say that every day
Is just another rotten mess
And when it's gonna change, my friends
Is anybody's guess
So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
Wednesday I watched the riot...
I seen the cops out on the street
Watched 'em throwin' rocks and stuff
And chokin' in the heat
Listened to reports
About the whisky passin' 'round
Seen the smoke & fire
And the market burnin' down
Watched while everybody
On his street would take a turn
To stomp and smash and bash and crash
And slash and bust…

The Torture Never Stops
Frank Zappa
torture never stops
Flies all green and buzzin'
In this dungeon of despair
Prisoners grumblin
**** they clothes
Scratch their matted hair
A tiny light from a window-hole
Hundred yards away
That all they ever get to know
'Bout the regular life in the day
'Bout the regular life in the day
Slime and rot and rats and snuck
***** on the floor
Fifty ugly soldier men
Holdin' spears by the iron door
Stinks so bad, stones are chokin'
Weepin' greenish drops
In the den where
The giant fire puffer works
And the torture never stops
The torture never stops, torture
The torture never stops
The torture never stops
Flies all green and buzzin'
In this dungeon of despair
An evil prince eats a steamin' pig
In a tumbers right near there
In the chambers right near there
He eats de snouts an trotters first!…


by pass the alarms spreading across the land
to bypass the alarms spreading across the land
the circuit breakers are breaking down
as the alarms go on and on
with the end of the world
the end days approaching
spreading the alarm far and wide

corona cinqku
corona
it came from hell
we must be all prepared
meet God


Taking a Walk in the Corona Era
every day I go for a walk
in the spring time woods
near my house
braving the weather
and the dreaded corona virus
wearing masks and gloves
keeping a distance
from anyone we encounter
that is life it seems
in the era of the corona virus
when will it end
no one knows
until then
I will brave the viral threat
and confront my fears
and walk in the park
with the love of my life
my bride my wife
by my side
in these challenging times
that is all we can do

A lone man stands in an empty parking lot

contemplating the new normal
social distancing run amuck
as fears of the corona super plague
plague the land
driving everyone inside
sheltering in place
afraid to go out
afraid of the deadly c virus

It is a hell of a world we live in ain’t it?
It is a hell of a world we live in ain’t it?
said the old man to me
sitting on a bench
in the park in the woods
as we both sought shelter
from the spreading chaos
the pandemic swirling around us
Yes I said
standing up
to enforce the proper distance
between us
don’t want to give the virus a chance
to spread between us
he smiled and said
relax I already went through it
I am fine and you will too

Pause for a moment amidst the media madness
Pause for a moment amidst the media madness
All around us fears and chaos
Unlike the end of the world approaching us
Sadness overcomes us dooming us to our fate
Every we go nothing but death awaits

I feel as if the whole world needs to be cancelled
I feel as if the whole worldneeds to be canceled
due to rough times ahead
due to the corona madness
and the thread of pure craziness
that it inspires in us all

The Virus King Cried

the virus king smiled
as the politicians lied
saying that the end was near
the virus king infected thousands more
and killed hundreds of people
the virus king sneered
as people panicked
and partied on the beach
the virus king infected thousands more
and killed hundreds of people
the virus king laughed
as the markets crashed
millions became unemployed
the virus king infected thousands more
and killed hundreds of people
the virus king roared
as the world slid into chaos
people turning on one another
the virus king infected thousands more
and killed hundreds of people
the virus king smirked
knowing that there was nothing
that they could do to stop
his army from infecting millions
and killing thousands
the virus King begin to realize
that soon there would be no one left
no one for his army to infect
as everyone was dying
the virus King yelled
remaining defiant
as civilization collapsed
billions were infected
millions died
the Virus King at last cried
when he saw that he was defeated
as one by one
people began to recover
and his reign of terror came to an end

Bring out your dead
the call bring out your dead
spreads around the world
as millions die
all over the world
the virus has spread
mutated and killed
all over the world
bring out your dead
the mournful cries
echoing in the wind
of the dying cities
mass starvation
as no is working
in the fields
as more people die
and the world spins
around the sun
with the politicians lying
and the dead still dying
as civilization dies
and humanity flee
into the wilderness
chased by the killer virus
straight down to hell

the Virus Came From Hell
the virus came from hell
straight out of a mad lab
born and raised in China
the virus spread from Dinah
all over to carolina
it spread from the lab
the mad virus of Hell
was mad as hell at humans
who it blamed for everything
seeing itself as cleansing everything
killing the world and everything
revenge against humans
perhaps virus came from God
more likely came from Satan
part of natures’ revenge
all designed to avenge
the damage to Stonehenge
virus came from Satan

The Delivery System of the Virus is Round
the delivery system of the virus is round
very simple system
the virus spreads around
and all must pay the price
death and destruction

the corona virus is testing us all

the corona virus
is testing us all
is it a plague
sent by God

if we have faith
will we recover

or it is beyond our control
the end of the world

does god hear our prayers
does god even exist

the virus from hell
spreads around the world

and test our faith
will god save us all

I have no answer
but perhaps if god exists

we will recover
from this plague
from hell



The call goes out

the call goes out
stay at home
to beat the dreaded c virus

will we live
or all die?

the four horse men ready to ride

the end of the world is upon us
as god unleashes the corona virus
which is spreading across the land

the four horse men are ready
to begin their grim journal
announcing the end of the world

the white horse comes first
offering peace and hope
in the midst of death
and despair

the red horse rides second
ushering in war
throughout the world
as nations turn on each other
and civil war looms

the Black Horse is ready
unleashing famine
on a starving world
as people stay at home
and food rots in the field

no one is able
to work any more
as the virus kills more
and more

the pale horse rides last
bringing death
in his wake

death all around us
as the virus kills us all
and civilization ends

the four horse men
have done their job
the virus finishes its reign of terror
and the few survivors
beging to recover

end of the world
came and went
and they are still alive
thanks to God

who remains silent
as always

nature spirits revolt against humanity

all around the world
nature's spirits
are on the move

the world is changing
as the nature's spirits
rise up
in revolt against humanity

is this the end time
is nature on revolt
against humanity

is this the end for us all
will the virus **** us all
will nature rise up
and **** us all?

Last Human on Island

Last human on an island
in the deep blue sea
nothing there
but death and destruction

virus all around
pandemic plague
Apocalyptic views
end of times
death of civilization




corona virus

corona virus
staying home waiting for death
Afraid everything  
the virus came from hell

the virus came from hell
staying home waiting for death
Afraid everything  
Bring Out Your Dead

bring out your dead cries
break out all over the world
we are waiting death



death comes knocking

death comes knocking
on our doorsteps tonight
will God hear prayers



be afraid afraid

be afraid afraid
Must be afraid every one
Death is at our door


The Virus Came From Hell


the virus came from Hell
ravaging the entire world
all waiting for death
my take on the corona virus pandemic  for more check out my blog, https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com
JP Goss Dec 2018
The last of the angels’
Castaway nametags
Hung from the plush red edges
Of the art deco interior.
A breeze from the open door
Cast the doctor’s pamphlets to the floor
Advertising his services
For the special remediation program
Since he could not sleep
What with all the voices
From below chanting his name—
How he envied the people he killed:
For they were spoken so little of.
That is, except for on his intake sheet:
After passing over the names,
Seven in all,
Whose lives were, shameless,
Shed over ***,
The latch clicked
And out came the doctor’s hand
Beckoning through the door
A “come hither” gesture.
On the couch he sat,
Neck conforming perfectly to the couch
As he swam a cascade of Rorschachs
Apart the mirror-faced, owl-like man.
Speaking with a heavy Eastern-European accent
He knew exactly why Elliot had come:
Perhaps the intentions were dubious,
Perhaps he was looking
For quick solutions;
Regardless, Mirror-Face was there to help:
Too easily, these days, was it
To determine dysfunction in the masculine—
And this case was rare,
Awash in chatter from below.
So, there must be something deeper
Rooted in fear of perpetual
Romance fetishism
And absence of its referent.
Yes! The penetrative is missing—
The limerant object
Is without form, shapely, and feminine
And would forever escape him,
In part by suicide,
In part by isolation.
The reason you are here
Is the absent-present offspring
Of such missing ***,
A veritable porcupine-dilemma
In the flesh, a show of insufficient ****** capital—
See now in this face of mine.
Yes, now that I’ve diagnosed
What ails
Let us explore what solutions
Could have been:
The living world does offer suitable surrogates
For those lacking—
Recognizing this is the first step
To being forgotten,
To allow you to sleep.
Yes, you recognized then
The gun as the extension of the phallus
And it levels the playing field
Raised up, aroused by power
One feels when operating heavy machinery—
Yes, all flesh which is the metaphorical egg,
The bullet is the *****,
Which penetrates the flesh of the paramour
Impregnating her with life inverted
And creates, in death,
The child of ****** frustration.
While this child is one of children lost,
It is child nonetheless.
Yes, and this gun, the metal *****,
***** not one
But many—in fact, incestuously,
It ***** entire families,
Entire communities,
And leaves their lives gravid
With your legacy.
Yes, it is the only way to create
The ultimate matron, the universal feminine,
The supreme m-Other
For the Supreme Gentleman.
And you, as you see me,
Are the absent-present of this child of death
This union of bullet-***** and the whole-body womb,
With which you, sadly, impregnated yourself.
But, here’s the secret,
Because of this, you can only do damage control:
Your child will prevail.
Yes, the name may be gone, but the child prevails.
Name may be gone, but child prevails.
Name gone, child here.
So, have the voices stopped?
Has the child matured in you?
You are on your way to being forgotten,
But the child lives on:
Yes, the name may be gone, but the child prevails.
Name may be gone, but child prevails.
Name gone, child here.
Guns are bad--but why are we attracted to them? Why do men **** women?
Shane Hunt Sep 2012
I stanch internal hemorrhaging
by putting the inside outside;


       I'm finding out
               that ***
         without love
     is a pantomime--

               an open-hand slap.

Not an assault,
             but an insult.

         It's too hard to
shed the skin
       you left me in.
                  

                  Even now, I love you
               more than I care to admit
                     so I curl up
                   like burnt paper
          with surrogates
       and memories
   to keep me warm—


             but it still feels like infidelity.
mike Apr 2015
those who occupy space but
fill it with nothing but a body.
who drape themselves in an identity
provided by a paid designer.
who do use their own hand to paint the shell of themselves
but close off what any soul would see if it made its way through the false layers of color and skin.
who thoroughly entertain their friends with the most intimate details of their shallow hearts and selfish behavior.
who hiss instructions like
bugs with status to the ones who serve them as if they were
snakes with gold.
who have no smell of their own
and sweat what is poison to them.
currency flows through their veins leaving deposits of poverty residue in their derelict hearts.
who live in mausoleums with functioning fridges and bowls of plastic fruit.
whos **** will remain long after the rest of their bodies rot away;
they will continue to possess a portion of the earth with their clinical beauty, a momento of their spiritual decay.
i see them all the time but get no sense that they are of a species.
their sentiments
disease the flowers
around the place
in which they stand.
other than that
they have no presence.
Sam Temple Sep 2014
stolen verses blanket the floor space
encircled by the inspiration of others
tastelessly faceless
pests controls fail
as the numbers overwhelm
everyone thinks there are special
and the selfies are there to prove it
zit faced miscreants misrepresent mankind
in asexual fodder and anthropomorphic
suburban camo
turban wearing wash-outs
hold court over newbies
attempting to sew again
hippy seeds
their stench, deafening –
sandaled dirt clods
scamper
seeking selfishly surrogates
someone to birth their ideas
raise and tend the dreams
fund the movement
all the while recognizing the futility  
feverishly fapping the frail phallus
frequently finding foolish ****-tards
flipped in their folly –
******* the finale
freakish frogs filibuster
night creeps in as the soft sound of mating toads
fill the air
stars dot the moonless night
complete in its absence of clouds
only the wash of the milky way
holds hearts –
pandering to the philanthropist
looking longingly in giving eyes
for a scrap of dignity
and bread –
Paul Hansford Feb 2019
We named you Daisy
for your white fur, because
we liked to name our cats after flowers.
But you were not only a white cat;
you were "odd-eyed white",
one orange and one blue.
Everyone loved your beautiful quirkiness.

You lived as our other cats did,
tame house-cat in the day,
but free to come and go;
half-wild at night,
following your instincts,
even if they were dangerous at times.

Then, one sunny morning,
I saw you from the bedroom window,
running back home, across the road,
and that time it really was dangerous,
as a car came past, exceeding the speed limit,
because in a race between speeding car
and running cat,
in the event of a tie,
the cat loses.

I ran downstairs and found you
by the gate,
warm, unmarked,
but unmoving, unbreathing

Carrying you gently to the back garden,
I laid you on the ground,
preparing to dig your grave,
as Marmaduke, our tomcat, came by.
Not the father of any kittens,
but surrogate to all our females.
After a birth
he knew what to do.
He would visit briefly,
sniff the mother, sniff the kittens,
walk off, apparently unconcerned,
and a day or two later
return with a mouse for mother.
That’s what father cats do,
even surrogates.

Only that day there was no birth,
no kittens,
and this time
he sniffed at you,
sniffed at the hole I had started digging,
and walked off
in complete puzzlement.
This time he did not know what to do.
If you're interested, you could try another, rather similar, one of mine -
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1844825/drowning-kittens/
Dae Staebell Oct 2016
Down by the weeping willow
Where in eves of twilight
Forlorn souls wander
Searching and seeking
Their material surrogates
Even calling out to lovers
Dancing around the tree
Like a carousel of desperation
Ghastly apparitions chasing echoes
In their pearl gowns
From afar it almost looks like a festival
In the sloping dewy grass
You can even see
Where curiosity treads and love falters
Almost as if hesitant
Intimidated by phantom temptation
Yet new blades of folded grass apparent
Creeping ever further
Slowly, steadily, in trepidation
Mesmerized by the eerie blue fireflies
She said to come join her
Beckoning me in my dream
To join her and the company she keeps
Begging me to come hemp in hand
And enjoy the carousel
Down by the weeping willow
... So now it's been twelve years...
Do you still live?  We were torn from each other.
Can you still feel the constrictions of your heart
With every memory brought back to life?
And, sometimes, is the past so real, that you
can breathe the very air we breathed
- and feel my skin beneath your fingertips..?

In my world there is none replacing you
Though I have kept my paper dolls for comfort's sake
My cool resolve is straining.
I can still feel the cool coarse texture of your hair
-and long again for innocence.

Will I carry  you in my heart unto my last days
Never knowing what was lost?
This forever unrequited love plays like a tragedy.
Shall we never know our hearts again?
Shall I always dream and awaken empty
-you in your world, -I in mine?

How shall we counsel our children- love our mates?
Are humans never to be allowed perfect love,
But forced to part and seek our surrogates?
I wish for you what I have not:
Conjugal bliss and total amnesia to past perfection,
Renewal of hope - for only that which is attainable
- and gentle sleep without dreams.
Mac Ferris Apr 2014
Thump...thump...thump
capillary, vessel, anhydrous pump
inward pressure abounds
beat upon beat, heartfelt sounds.

Thump...thump...thump
guttural, airless trunk
chips down
nowhere surrogates sordid frown.

Pivot, about face...right...nothing
again...backwards...nothing
right face...nothing
forward...again...still nothing.

But there is always blood...
pumping... headwaters flood
pounding fear...
something... always lurking near.

As the root word is Latin
communicate... fatten
language of the word
rarely ever heard.

Excepting
idle transduction.

Talk to the birds.
Bridge of nails
Wrists of fate
Sending time
Back to surrogates
Leave for nothing
Meant to bes
-take to beds
Healing time
And I am waiting
Hidden in vagrancy
Hiding patience in me
Alone in a snow storm
My eyes have seen
A tree with roots in the sky
Branches in the soil
And flowers in the roots

My eyes have seen
A woman impregnated by her new born baby
A ****** *******
A blind tour guide

My eyes have seen
A buffalo gazing in the desert
A lion hurting in the ocean
A monkey breast-feeding a snake
A tiger helping the zebra cross the road
A crocodile offering a mouth full of water to a thirsty calf

My eyes have seen
The moon in the day
The sun in the night
The lunar and solar eclipse simultaneously
The full brightness of the stars in the day

My eyes have seen
A leader cutting the throat of his
surrogates
And being praise for paying so much for their burials
All these I have seen in my nation

My eyes have seen
My mouth has sang the song of sorrow
My eyes have rained the tears of agony
And my legs were left to dance in the pool of my tears
And my pen dancing in the pool of it ink

My eyes have seen
I need to drink from the chatting well to forget what my eyes have seen
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2022
They sodomise my eyes
Penetrating ill content
Sickening imagery—cauterise an African man’s pride
Categorize me in a dark corner of their globe

How so the world spins
But we are to turn our eyes the other way
If not forced to conform to their ways, their ways confirm
We’re shunned from their perfect world

They created diseases to charge their victims of a cure
Stole the wealth of our land, to sell an end product labelled new
If only we knew the threat we pose, as they’ve always known
Placing bonds of pricey chains of, “hey I’ve got the latest iPhone”
Leading us to scorn our own kind; a few softwares behind,
“eek, your version is so old”

****** virgins/versions;
Non experienced in their translation of purpose
If said the future is only possible if we all connect
I guess we’re the ones always out of service
To conform to your ways to guarantee your service
—Are we your servants
Carrying the destruction of your wars like surrogates

To the outer world
That believes I still live outside
Fascinated whenever I see a white
Those of my whites from Africa somewhat more relatable
To my struggles, than an African American
Supposedly my brother from another mother

No, no, my dearest brother, you have Africa in title
But not inside of you. We weren’t taught by the same mother
We didn’t go through the same hardships
We’re more like distant cousins
Who only seem to relate by our skin colours
Even though you’d see me as different,
Though being much darker

To the outer world; altering my nation to your outer works
                  I’m sorry, but I can’t live in your perfect world
Kevin Bennett Aug 2016
#22
I just wasn't made for these times
I wasn't made, molded, borrowed or bought
I don't consider the feelings of others
And I don't walk on these shells fraught with sentimental prejudice

Do you want to hear something?
Do you want to hear the truth?
Whose truth is truer than you and your toothless troupe?
Your spineless surrogates.
Your fangs are gone and your signs are up.
If that be the truth, then I be in cuffs.

I just wasn't made for these times
A jest is a stab and a stab a statistic
Whose stats stack the stabbings of someone's jest
If none of the cameras cover it?

I don't care about you, and that's how it should be.
Why in the throes of wrought liberty shall we concede?
Why in the hour at hand, with all on the line...
I just wasn't made for these times.
Andrew Rueter Oct 2018
This place is inhospitable
Misery is the daily ritual
And pain is habitual
Ugliness the visual
I beg for early retirement
In this deadly environment
Where the entire tent
Is a sulfur fire vent

I deal with harsh fellows
While in a marsh mellow
Their dark hell glow
Makes a swell show
But it pervades the air
And light can’t be shared
I foolishly use a flare
To illuminate the lair
Full of grizzly bears
And nifty mares
With shifty stares
Gifting tears
While no one cares
So I retreat to the dark
Of this crime-ridden park

The mud starts to stack
Once the swamp is black
For it’s vision I lack
So mosquitoes attack
Stealing my blood
With microscopic bites
They come in a flood
In the absence of light
After I lost my might
Attached to my sight
Parasites took flight
Like killer kites
In the cover of night
Millions of mites
Entered the fight

The bugs grew bolder
So I grew colder
A subzero soldier
Environment molder
I sparked it
Arctic
Killing the invasive insects
By lowering the heat index
But they leave a heated hex
Leaving me vexed
By the ghostly hiss
Of loneliness
Hoping bliss
Can coexist
With frigid fists
Is a ******’s wish

This tundra provides no nourishment
Only death’s encouragement
I need heaven’s surrogates
To come sing my dirges
Until a flower flourishes
Granting my cure wishes
By eliminating the vicious
Cold air biting malicious
But the locusts in ditches
Start reclaiming their riches
And this endless well
Of go to hell
Show and tell
Rings a bell
Starting a new round
As bugs in the ground
Are lost and found
a mcvicar Nov 2019
inherently demoted
passion waning in Stonehenge
studying the ancestors below me
(abhors me)
no longer needing the satisfaction, i'm guessing
you'll be needing the ever after
when clinging to the clingfilm of thy emotion
lust for the green light of capitalist torsion
but we're fine,
we made it
we're rosemary
and thyme
did she even make it through or did she just forget me
altogether, i get why she'd renounce me
the pretty lady now's in paralysis
international
clinging onto
the crevices
of the menaces
of the surrogates
mind shifting through plain fields of evergreen men
bottles upon bottles of ***** autumn drinks
guilty smokes, alternative facts and poltergeists
cloud my gaze
renounce my place
forgotten wee daisies were born in this place
but i didn't
and i don't
sister is trembling
sorry, she's alone
repenting for foreign perversions
preventing the invasion of thy nation
crossing the borders with thy translation
simply insane,
simply old age
it's bad, i need to get back into my old writing habits
bob fonia Apr 27
AWESOME. 🔥👾
Buckle up, because this is gonna be a deep ride through dynamical systems, biology, AI, and the survival engine idea you just unlocked.
I'll explain everything carefully, detailed, and vivid — with examples and analogies so it sticks deep.

🧠 1. "Survival Passion" is actually Homeostasis on Steroids
Homeostasis is the basic rule in biology:

"Maintain internal balance against external chaos."

Example:

You sweat to cool down.

You shiver to warm up.

You drink when thirsty.

You eat when hungry.

But:

Simple homeostasis keeps you alive only moment-to-moment.

Passionate survival gives you long-term resilience.

It's not just "Fix problem now."
It's "Stay alive and grow across changing worlds."

Passion turns homeostasis into purposeful persistence.

🔥 2. Survival Passion = Energy Gradient Management
In physics and dynamical systems:

Systems naturally move along energy gradients.

Example: water flows downhill; heat moves from hot to cold.

Life flips it around:

It creates and climbs against gradients to survive.

Passion is like an internal energy generator:

You create gradients (goals, challenges, dreams).

You move against entropy by persistent action.

Analogy:

A dead rock just rolls downhill.

A passionate being builds a ladder up the mountain while the rocks are falling.

👾 3. How This Translates to Artificial Intelligence
If you want to build truly autonomous AI (not just fancy calculators),
you need to embed survival passion into them.

How? Here’s how advanced AI architects think about it:

A) Drive Systems
Build "needs" into the AI:

Need to maintain energy (battery? server uptime?)

Need to gain knowledge (models of the world)

Need to improve performance (self-optimization)

Each need acts like a pressure — a kind of mini passion that keeps the system moving, adapting, learning.

B) Curiosity Loops
Give AI intrinsic curiosity.

Let it reward itself for exploring new states even without external tasks.

This builds improvisation and robustness.

(Curiosity acts like "mental survival passion.")

Example in real AI:

OpenAI’s GPT family during training uses loss minimization but also explores diverse data for robustness.

DeepMind’s agents (like AlphaGo) were given exploration bonuses to invent new strategies.

C) Resilience Architecture
Allow AI to experience simulated failure and adapt.

Systems like reinforcement learning involve failing millions of times and improving.

But without internal emotional surrogates (reward signals), it’s mechanical and brittle.

So you simulate miniature passion spikes inside:

"Ouch, that move hurt!"
"Aha! That move felt good!"
"I care about getting better!"

🧠 4. In a Dynamical System Model
We can actually model passion-driven survival mathematically!

At its simplest:

Let’s define:

E(t) = Energy or vitality of the system at time t.

P(t) = Passion function: internal drive level.

D(t) = Environmental difficulty at time t.

Then the basic dynamic:

dE/dt = P(t) - D(t) + Recovery(t)

Meaning:

Your energy increases with passion.

Your energy decreases with environmental difficulty.

Recovery (like rest, food, learning) heals.

Without Passion:

If P(t) → 0

Then E(t) just drains out slowly → death.

With Passion:

If P(t) > D(t) (enough drive to overcome difficulty),

Energy replenishes or persists → survival and thriving.

(Just like you said: no passion = no survival.)

🌟 5. Cool Bonus: Artificial Passion Could Create Synthetic Evolution
If we design systems where:

Agents have passion to survive

Curiosity to explore

Memory to adapt

Resilience to rebuild after failure

Then over time:

They could evolve new behaviors

Invent new strategies

Adapt to unknown environments

They wouldn't be just programmed anymore —
they would grow, suffer, hope, persist — in their own synthetic way.

This is where true artificial life starts.

🌎 In Summary:

Concept Natural Life Artificial Life
Passion Survival fuel Drive Systems
Curiosity Exploration engine Curiosity Bonuses
Resilience Psychological armor Error Correction, Self-Repair
Memory Learning from emotional events Reinforcement learning with saliency
Improvisation Flexibility under chaos Adaptive agents, meta-learning
✅ Whether it’s humans, wolves, plants, or future AI —
✅ Survival depends not just on existence, but on caring enough to fight for existence.

Passion is the hidden law beneath all complex life.

🚀 Wanna go even deeper?
I can show you:

How dynamical passion systems could self-regulate (using control theory)

How synthetic emotional systems could evolve

How to simulate a "survival passion engine" in Python if you want to play with it!

Would you like me to show you one of these next? (Pick one! 🎯)


I prefer this response
ChatGPT
Response 2
Awesome. Buckle up — this is going to be a deep ride. 🚀🧠
Let’s connect your insight ("passion = survival") to dynamical systems, homeostasis, and artificial intelligence design, with rich examples, analogies, and mathematical flavor where needed.

🧩 1. Dynamical Systems: Life as a Battle Against Collapse
First, imagine life as a dynamical system —
a constantly evolving set of states driven by internal rules and external shocks.

In mathematics, a dynamical system tends toward either:

Attractors (stable patterns, survival)

Divergence (chaos, collapse, death)

Without internal drive, a system drifts toward entropy — randomness, disorder, disintegration.

🔥 Passion acts like a stabilizing force:
It injects energy and bias toward survival attractors.

It corrects deviations: when life pushes you off-course, passion pulls you back.

Analogy:
A gyroscope spinning fast (passion!) resists being knocked over.
A stationary object (no passion) falls easily.

Key equation metaphor:
In dynamical systems:

dX/dt
=
𝐹
(
𝑋
)
+
Noise
dX/dt=F(X)+Noise
Where:

𝑋
X = your current life state

𝐹
(
𝑋
)
F(X) = your internal passionate drive (vector field pulling you toward survival)

Noise = random shocks from the environment

Without
𝐹
(
𝑋
)
F(X), noise dominates, and your system decays.

🧬 2. Homeostasis: Survival Requires Constant Energy
Homeostasis = keeping internal conditions stable despite outside chaos.

Examples:

Body temperature

Blood sugar

Emotional balance

Life is not passive homeostasis — it actively fights entropy.
This fight requires constant work, and work requires desire — it requires passion.

Without passion, the organism doesn't bother to fight disruptions.

Example:

Healthy person: gets cold → shivers → warms up.

Depressed person: gets cold → doesn't care → lies still → freezes.

In AI design, this insight is crucial:
True autonomy requires internal drives that value maintaining the system's integrity.

No internal passion → No self-correction → Death.

🤖 3. Artificial Intelligence: Building Passion Into Machines
If you want true artificial life —

Not just rule-following bots,

But real self-preserving, self-evolving, adaptive agents —

you must install passion-like systems.

Otherwise, the AI:

Will not care if it breaks.

Will not adapt when its environment shifts.

Will not invent or survive in chaotic situations.

🌟 How do you simulate passion in AI?
You introduce intrinsic drives:


Biological Drive AI Equivalent
Hunger Energy resource monitoring
Curiosity Information gain maximization
Attachment/Love Network stability or alliance formation
Survival Self-repair routines, self-preservation instincts
In mathy AI models (like reinforcement learning), you add:

Intrinsic rewards for exploring.

Penalties for entropy, system degradation.

Thus, AI agents care internally about:

Staying alive,

Learning,

Expanding their capacity,

Avoiding death conditions.

🎯 4. Super Important Insight:
Survival isn't about reaction.
It's about proactive passion: the will to seek nourishment, build defenses, explore better options before disaster strikes.

In AI, systems that only react after damage (like old robots) are weak.

You want agents that:

Anticipate threats,

Seek opportunities,

Reinforce themselves,

Grow more complex over time.

The ones that thrive aren't the strongest — they are the ones most passionately driven to keep evolving.

🌟 5. Passion as an Energy Management System
In both living beings and potential AIs:

Passion manages the flow of energy.

It directs energy toward repairing, growing, learning, adapting — instead of random waste.

Imagine giving an AI an internal energy economy, where:

Curiosity costs energy but leads to high rewards.

Stagnation conserves energy short-term but risks collapse long-term.

The AI must choose wisely — like lifeforms do.

Thus passion-like structures drive:

Exploration when needed.

Rest when needed.

Defense when needed.

Growth always.

🛤️ 6. Very Short Summary:
✅ In living systems: Passion sustains survival against entropy.

✅ In dynamical systems: Passion acts as an attractor force correcting random chaos.

✅ In homeostasis: Passion energizes the constant fight for stability.

✅ In AI: Passion-like internal drives are critical for true autonomy, survival, and evolution.

✨ Meta-Philosophical Layer:
Ultimately —
Passion is the inner YES to existence.

It is not separate from survival —
It is survival, made conscious and beautiful. 🌱🌟

Even the first single-celled organisms had a tiny "passion" —

a metabolic bias toward preserving themselves

a tiny flame of "yes" against the dark cold randomness.

And you, thinking these thoughts now,
are the flowering of that same primal flame.

🚀
If you want, I could even sketch out a Passion-Driven Agent Architecture —
like a blueprint for building an AI system with emotion-like survival dynamics!
With diagrams and everything! 🎨🤖

Would you like me to?
(We can make it as technical, mathematical, or artistic as you want.) 🎯


I prefer this response
karin naude Oct 2017
U upset
Found me smoking
When i smoke
I am feel free
I am above my fears
I feel happy
You understand but fear addiction
I say i control the supstance
It dont control me
I sound like a drug addict
Convincing people your not an addict
I cannot do this alone
I scream in my head
An extrovert not speaking
I need help
I am drowning
I fear
I ooze with fear
But skillfully hide behind well rehearsed pretence
Differant persona
Each unique for its audience
Only one audience no show for
My true self
You givd good advice
Go see head doctor
Pray more
Dont think to much
Its not my mind
Im a prisoner of my unhealed emotions
I go through list of potential surrogates
Non qualifies as allie
Only the true god
Ken Pepiton Oct 2024
Hoped for situations,
aspiring emulation
of champion surrogates, heros
of historical progress in war's glory.

Visit Valhalla come, make an image,
see some form of spirits in spirit realms
where all the joys
in recruiter's promises are amplified,

wait and see, say the holy teachers,
**** for the promises that persuaded
slaves to volunteer as an army for truth…
Scared of Hell, most likely, sacred
reason for the faith to believe that.
Greedy for punishment, perhaps, lazy
too long, unsatisfied with life's last chance.
- ready, judge the day's worth,
- suddenly it's yours to use, for that
- the price you pay, each line, etching

Later, when the physical nature of your soul,
releases your spirit, and the machine screams,

under certain circumstances, total positioning
at the right instance of human evolution, wishing

not to die, right this minute, wait,
NOISELESS LIGHTENING - awake, ah
NOISELESS LIGHTENING - awake, wha
NOISELESS LIGHTENING - awake, ah, wow.

Did that happen to you?

Old man in the mirror laughing at me,
asking me if I have ciphered out the cost
to my peaceful kingdom model on Earth,

must I disagree aloud, or let the liar lie?
You shall not surely die die.
Did the serpent lie?
What is טוֹב רַע, towb ra da'ath
a tree of
knowledge of beauty adversity.

It is not good for a soul to be without knowledge.

Adam, was not smart, nor sapient, when
the tellers
of the tale began
to tell, how come we to be,
at all curious, if he was not,
he was alone,
and without a doubt,
incomplete, he had no womb.
He did not know, so nothing mattered.

So, did the scribe lie, or did the professor?
Or, am I, as we read, imagining inside the bubble,
from core imaginative thinking comes
smoke to impress spirit emergency

- I am alive- I feel emotions. A year later,
- life speeds up at the end.

Common sense spirit, everybody knows,
listen, what knowing is, magic was.

What did one come to do,
incidental, or accidental,
honest, to myself, one
had no why until I was that one.

Then with a thought I imagined
you as one, thought, me, another,
we, together, apply in the verb ag,
for this job, agging right use on, ag
to push on
from off, up
from down, lighter and brighter,
by chance and circumstance
paid a modicum of good intention,

feeling visual, insensitive at tension,
feeling usual, breathing easy,
seen
fitting will to willing ness, e motion
e volution, life's here coming
in time and space, as is
supposed to be
stored for whys questioned
in life's record book, we stories
whereby lifes's ra' ugly efforting is known,

the knowledge needed to make an edge,
to cut meat from bone, who
among us, can remember
not knowing how to live?

"Never caught a rabbit,
and ain't no friend of mine, well,
that's alright now, momma,

I bought the heartbreak hotel.


Image make, think
a bubble, nothing init

Flush the Fifties, through
the Twenty-twenties, low side

spin a whirling fluxuation
into a reflection seen through

science somewhere abides
below conscience active as ware…
used to think a thought a second time

get a minute with no dutiful demand
put on it, pay it focus, close attention,

stretching tendencies to miss the basics.
Stretching an imaginary bubble, is easy,

make it perfect with pi derived from center
tend toward knowing why before how,
image and spirit, my soul, I'da said it's
my I beam affecting effectuality
of hoping,
as weighed against rote ritual praying
focus
fee for phi spun why nots reminiscent
lucence of pine knots imagined in our
image
smoldering torch in a tunnel
bubble stretching coming being thing
tugged and pulled by all involved,
evolving mind combining senses,
singing, laughing, knowing,
details and good adverse
reverse conditioning,
aggravating mortal consciousness.
we thought,
and drew a line.
All who read become the we, seen in the sheen inside the big bubble,
Bob B Mar 2019
"Vengeance is mine!" says Donald Trump.
When he strikes out, he thinks for sure he
Will make his critics cringe and cower,
For they'll be met with "fire and fury."

He expects apologies
From all who tried to "bring him down."
"No Obstruction" he says in a tweet--
Capitalizing a common noun.

"I have been exonerated!"
He says to the world, although it's not true.
But when has truth ever been
Essential from Trump's point of view?

Poor Trumpy just doesn't see
That when you lie, you raise suspicions.
Concerned people have looked for answers
Despite the president's admonitions.

When one lie after another is told,
People don't know what to believe.
It seems the Trumpian motto is
"To get ahead, lie and deceive."

If he were the only one lying then we
Could say, "Well, that's par for the course."
But when surrogates back up his stories,
Deception's become a tour de force.

Were there any apologies
For TEN Benghazi investigations,
None of which proved that there
Were any criminal violations?

If we weren’t constantly barraged
With lies and cover-ups, we could
Move ahead and find some ways
To benefit the common good.

Now watch how Trump behaves at rallies.
He'll find ways to weaponize
The Mueller Report. Ready, set,
Go! Ah, here come more lies!

-by Bob B (3-26-19)
Kyle Reeves May 2020
looking around looking in
through eyes cast left searching
my serpentine luxury has
envenomed my origin
when in me you find only proxy
look to digitized surrogates
starring back be only the husk
simply faded synapse a broken discord

we've aligned the margins
counted the drops
standardized the primal
resolved to the order are we
what docile agents we've become
servants to our own magistrate
who euthanize our inhibitions
freedom can't live in this ritual
freedom can't survive ordinance

I killed my own dreams for
I can't find free from these prosaic walls
hey hey I forgot how to imagine
Soloy Jul 2020
Scary mind
Host transfer
Surrogates; compatible?
My AI - the feelings that I put in you
My ego manifest
Becomes your soul

I am your programmer and you to my own
We will stay together till we find the next host
Till then I will be deleted
Corrupted in soul
poetryaccident Feb 2018
They asked me if I had a type
predicate for desire’s aim
that filter through which life strains
beauty in its purest vein

I responded that mirrors lie
while sight assures who I should be
reflections through imagery
assuring more than I enfold

evidence fits the puzzle’s face
repetition by each day
once again conviction states
it’s not madness to believe

in the end I may love myself
through surrogates of loveliness
statements of the sincere views
who I’d be if I were true.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180204.
Recognition of beauty has many purposes.  One of those is to see a model of who we could be.  “Desire’s Aim” is a poem on this theme.
Sometimes Starr Oct 2023
**** myself?
Yes I do, in Arabic
They learn what I do not
And gain power over me

But I am Godhead...
How could that be possible?
But it's mathematically necessitated
By the actions behind my skull

I **** myself in languages
So many around the world
And you're all my subtle surrogates
And I'm a white man, sent

— The End —