Truth Via Poetry!!!

Shhhh! It’s me…Hana!! I have something important to show you.

Poetry!! The last great medium for expressing the truth! Movies are nothing but propaganda! Don’t believe them, watch them with a critical eye!! Both critical eyes! Then spit on the screen! But poetry, that is one form of art they haven’t yet corrupted!

Drugs and poetry! Together the truth they create is unstoppable!!! Drugs open the mind and poetry disperses it out to the masses! So listen up, you masses, enjoy this drugged-up truth from some crackhead:

I was High, Dawg

by Some Crackhead

I was chillin’ in my crib
Brushing and strokin’
And the urge called to me
So I started pokin’
The needle in my arm
Gave me a joyous retreat
To the clouds in the sky
Damn, man, it was neat.
I soared through the air
Like a common fruit fly
Witnessed it all unfold
Oh, yeah. I was high.

Yeah….I was high.
I was high, dawg.

I woke up and saw
The crap I had painted
It must have all happened
When I had fainted
Watching the news
I was aquainted
With a news man who knew
The paintings were tainted

He spoke of disaster
The disaster was in my art
And my most recent piece
Matched the weather man’s chart
I reached for my drugs
There was a pain in my heart
My paintings told the future
And it was falling apart.

Yeah…I was high.
I was high, dawg.

Maybe drugs aren’t for you! In that case, good ol’ fashion craziness can become the catalyst of truth!!! This poem is interesting, though I sense something terribly immoral about it! I don’t know if I should praise it or spit on it:

I Miss…

by Psycho Woman

I miss the long walks,
Down sandy shores.
Two hands clasped together,
Mine and yours,

I MISS THE SOUND,
OF RIPPING SKIN,
AS LEGS WERE SEVERED FROM TORSO,
I LAUGHED AND I GRINNED,

I miss the time,
We used to share,
Before we grew so cold,
Before it became hard to care,

I MISS THE EXCITEMENT,
AS BODIES FLEW,
I MISS THE VIOLENCE,
I ONCE KNEW,

I miss the days,
We felt alive,
When we were still young,
And both our hearts thrived,

I MISS THE BLOOD,
THAT PAINTED THE WALLS,
THAT DRIPPED DOWN SO BEAUTIFULLY,
AND BODIES DECKED THE HALLS,

I miss your scent, D.L.,
Your smile and your touch,
I MISS THE FEEL,
OF A GUN IN MY CLUTCH.