tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59512009126041448602024-02-19T04:43:31.443-08:00Dark Side Of The Brain (defunct)Dissecting black holesRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.comBlogger194125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-73638942245601848572012-09-14T21:33:00.002-07:002012-09-14T21:35:39.327-07:00Chaos TheoryYou better hold on to that hurricane while you can<br /><br />Before it's dropped and whittles to your core<br /><br />Probably should have learned to restrain that energy<br /><br />Drape your troubles in mountains, perhaps?<br /><br />But no, it's just one big mass buried below sea level<br /><br />And soon you'll be drowning in your own discontent<br /><br />All because you refused to leaveRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-45782634280471599022012-09-04T20:26:00.000-07:002012-09-04T20:27:44.247-07:00An Unfinished Poem I Wrote In The Mental HospitalI told myself if it ever came to this that I would bleed oceans<br /><br />But my heart isn't pumping anything worth swimming in<br /><br />Just a few gallons of leftover tar and some noxious fumes<br /><br />Everything moves so slow now it's like love's organs<br /><br />Frozen enough to make you want to sleep for decades<br /><br />This is the holocaust for the insomniac<br /><br />Who wonders the alleyways of their own brain<br /><br />Trying to find a dead stray to use as a blanket or cushion<br /><br />The people behind the padded walls seem so nice<br /><br />Though I probably don't deserve what they're giving<br /><br />My only justifiable possession is a trash can overflowing with doubt<br /><br />That spills on me whenever I try to set it on fire<br /><br />Possibly out of fear that I would burn the world to nothing<br /><br />A personal apocalypse can happen more than once and often does<br /><br />Which is what Murphy probably thought when he drafted his lawRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-8748609823137617132012-08-24T08:21:00.002-07:002012-08-24T08:32:27.087-07:00I Attempted Suicide And All I Got Were These Lousy MedicationsI have exhausted the limbs of salvation<br />By doing absolutely nothing with everything <br />Grandfather clock coughs by the seconds <br />We shall harmonize, he and I <br />Burning cancer to choke out desperation <br />Freight train in my guts derailed from the smoke<br />I shit out steel and bones after every meal <br />And then cut myself on the remains <br />This world would be dead if I wasn't drained <br />But the western hemisphere is going numb anyway <br />None of it really matters at all<br />These pacifiers in an orange bottle I suckle <br />They only delay the digging of an honorable exit Robert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-22913901375214324902012-08-18T02:08:00.004-07:002012-08-18T02:32:27.360-07:00The Mating Habits Of Barnyard AnimalsI love it when I stick my tongue down your throat<br />Sewage pours from your mouth like a junkie's last breath<br />And when you rummage your fingers through my guts <br />It feels as if there are tornadoes tearing up my stomach <br />We hold each other as the grass below us blisters and the world burns <br />Debating whether or not to throw the other into the fire Robert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-51591620691172178912012-08-13T22:38:00.000-07:002012-08-13T22:39:49.618-07:00My Only Anger Problem Is ExistenceMy mother spat me into the world at breakneck speed<br />Launched into the sky, my head hit the stars<br />I came crashing back down in a ball of burning ice<br />Left a hole bigger then the planet's bleeding cunt<br />And God watches all of this with crooked, devil eyes<br />Jacking off to the downtrodden faces of those like me<br />And then releasing on those who have it even worse<br />Yet He is worshiped by many in the church of Stockholm Syndrome<br />Like an imprisoned group of siblings raped by their father<br />Too terrified of consequence to be free of guilt<br />I break the shackles every time a memory goes by<br />Be it lovers and friends who abandoned truth in a ditch<br />Or a trillion deaths of a society that rips itself apart<br />But there is no catharsis in the eyes of awareness<br />Just regret that the universe will remain stagnant<br />And that I am as worthless as the Higher PowerRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-41969294926984886922012-08-10T23:16:00.000-07:002012-08-10T23:19:50.740-07:00Sex EdShe asked me what sex is like and how it feels<br />I told her it's like a meteorite crashing into the earth<br />A wide extinction event caused by an addition of mass<br />When we push the virus through our gaping pores<br />When we launch our children into the visible unknown<br />One must wonder if the human race ever actually evolved<br />Or if it still latches onto its neanderthal dreams<br />Fascinated by the fire that slowly raptures us allRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-40929088182908058302012-08-07T19:40:00.003-07:002012-08-07T20:15:32.699-07:00Life Sucks, Dickhead!I.<br />Funny how a romantic becomes a misogynist <br />Like a chameleon who can't control his defenses <br />Or a homeless man who wants nothing but an embrace <br />Knowledge is power, this is true <br />It is a weapon I use against the Goddess <br />Before turning it on myself <br /><br />II. <br />Sick of sickness and tired of lethargy <br />I focus my taste on the patches in the atmosphere<br />And listen to the drum circle below the bones <br />They gasp for sympathy and understanding <br />I drown them out with cigarette smoke <br /><br />III. <br />Complacent are we, prisoners of eagles <br />Trapped in suburban cells <br />Slaves to ourselves and the dreams of vertical highways <br />We were just pirates, stealing weightless objects <br />We were just bluejays, dropping our feathers in the machine <br />Never noticing the world becoming darker <br />Or the government boarding up our windowsRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-5040824387115178602012-08-05T21:32:00.000-07:002012-08-05T21:33:08.229-07:00A Little BitterI hope this bastard world eats itself and chokes on the crumbs<br />I hope love hangs itself from the cracks in the sky <br />I hope my part-time friends collide into a pile of bones<br />I hope politicians are eaten alive by the streets <br />I hope the orange people fall apart in the snow <br />I hope I fall asleep under the sheets of foreverRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-86223612172145188382012-08-04T20:35:00.001-07:002012-08-04T20:35:59.625-07:00Trapped AboveYou itch to be placed on that pedestal<br />Too bad it would break beneath your ego<br />Although I can't help but wonder<br />How your beauty would look, all scattered<br />As ugly and disoriented as your soulRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-68398984172875644682012-07-31T18:00:00.003-07:002012-07-31T18:33:01.706-07:00The Art Of Self DegradationI am a maggot reflected in diamonds <br />My flesh slowly eaten by rotted bodies <br />Products of me, the boy with a closet graveyard<br />Reeking of ghost skin and suicide sweat <br />Existence put into question by a winged youth <br />When I disappear in his sniper sights <br />Sometimes I wonder If I even have a heart <br />Maybe the butterflies ate it years ago <br />And I'm kept alive by the tunnel's dim light <br />That's burning out for my own sake <br />So I don't have to see the crawling apocalypseRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-41572672477077457922012-07-29T00:33:00.004-07:002012-07-29T00:54:19.866-07:00Estrogen Molotov CocktailYou dream of the rare marble <br />I fantasize about only you<br />Who would never chance a beggar <br />Even if he gave all for you <br />No, it's all about the perfection<br />Chiseled and somewhat bland<br />But it's worth a whole lot <br />And the sex is pretty good <br />So what if the shine blinds you? <br />Does it matter that it cuts you?<br />Left bleeding in that abyss <br />Allow me to throw you a rope <br />So you can hang yourself with itRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-10157424324339862662012-07-25T10:11:00.000-07:002012-07-25T10:32:13.438-07:00God's MistakeBarbed wire drips from the cracked sky <br />Forming dream catchers entrapping doves <br />I sleep in a field of yellow grass and feathers <br />A human compost pile on orbiting garbage <br />(God's little mistake lives longer than Heaven) <br />My mouth is a minefield of scars and stitches <br />It bleeds hate with every breath of death and decay<br />Occasionally pleading with an exiled king<br />To die and go straight to purgatoryRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-38606463142331058902012-07-21T02:14:00.004-07:002012-07-21T02:41:16.028-07:00Lost TouchI cannot relate to my fellow man anymore <br />The soil they walk on has more in common with me<br />(Stagnancy molded by foot prints and afterthoughts)<br />They're too busy worshiping invisible sociopaths<br />Too caught up in the heroism of poverty genocide <br />I prefer the poetry of a crimson-stained wrist <br />Over the delicacy of a three course meal of pills <br />It will put this garbage heap deep into the ground<br />To actually be stepped on instead of just feeling that wayRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-19977749922621162432012-07-20T00:53:00.003-07:002012-07-20T01:20:36.586-07:00Dead WorldThe world doesn't deserve to be saved <br />It should die slow and painfully<br />Like the idea of friendship in modern times<br />Whittled down to money and social status <br />We tossed our hearts to the bonfire <br />To keep ourselves warm at room temperature <br />Replaced them with news tickers and phones <br />We wonder why we've been so lonely <br />When love is lying unconscious next to us<br />All we do is take the money from her pocket <br />And stick our dick in her before she wakes upRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-46280719653062350262012-07-14T19:13:00.003-07:002012-07-14T19:24:44.992-07:00Don't Look At Me I'm WeirdIt's the fading hours of another week <br />The city drinks skeletons with orange rabbits<br />I prefer to inhale mine with some scorched necks <br />Lose ourselves in coded worlds on disk <br />A wild desert, a cold continent, a distant planet <br />Awkwardness subdued like my urge to procreate<br />Memories made from laughs, not blackened disease <br />The proles ingest then gush their release <br />About as much as I reuse poem titlesRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-61486978517310327802012-07-11T19:58:00.000-07:002012-07-11T20:24:37.265-07:00Street JamIn the square heart of America<br />I play a harp of arteries and veins<br />A song of love and prosperity<br />It freezes society for a moment<br />Until the politicians start weeping<br />Celebrities blanket the homeless <br />This country collapses into the clouds<br />Just so we can raise it to the stars<br />Where citizens become painite chains<br />Wrapped around the hands of dirt<br />Where the hermits can have an opinion<br />That matter more than the lying dead<br />It's a utopia found only in children's books<br />And a victory worth bragging aboutRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-45060351140420719752012-07-10T18:55:00.001-07:002012-07-10T19:02:24.996-07:00The Message Is: There Is No MessageI am an animated adolescent<br />Who lives in a colorless suburb<br />My girlfriend is a mouse or a rat<br />I can never really tell which<br />She talks in smoke rings<br />Above the music our town makes<br />Every Christmas there is a sleepover<br />And the whole town argues over where<br />I usually just hope it’s not here<br />Because I feel ill in this gathering<br />Some rockstar said I have cancer<br />It’s localized in my tonisils<br />That I keep in a jar next to my bedRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-9980635056318865262012-07-07T20:25:00.001-07:002012-07-07T20:27:48.596-07:00Suicide Notes For DummiesHey Fuckers,<br /><br />You're probably surprised at this gruesome mess before you. Never would have crossed your mind that it would come to this, did it? Now that I got that last bit of sarcasm out of my system, hi! How are you? As you can see, I'm not doing too well. I'm dead! Why did I do it you're asking? Well, that's a funny story (but not really).<br /><br />You see, I've always felt alone. Even surrounded by close friends. It must be how Justin Bieber feels when he's not around prepubescent twinks. Speaking of him/her, why is it that people like it have so much money when people with actual talent and good qualities clutch pennies like a hypochondriac trying to keep a cold? Seriously, I've spent most of my life being terrified of dying. Which makes this whole situation ironic...maybe. I was never clear on what true irony is.<br /><br />You're probably getting bored reading this. I was pretty bored writing it. So, here is where I give away my possessions. Or else I would if I had anything worth giving away. Someone might want an Xbox 360 with barely working controllers, an 8 year old PC, and a few pennies. But deciding who would get what would take too much effort and fuck that. So you can all bicker and fight for them. Kind of like what you did when I was alive.<br /><br />Well I feel as if I've said enough here. That and I can't think of anything else that's remotely interesting to say. It was nice knowing you (okay, I liked earlier when I said that was my last bit of sarcasm). Have a nice life. I hope it eats you alive like it did trying to gnaw through my fat ass.<br /><br />Fuck you,<br />Bobby<br /><br />P.S. Sorry about the messy corpse.<br />P.P.S. On second thought, no. I'm not.Robert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-52879548533436514062012-07-06T22:18:00.003-07:002012-07-06T22:41:01.218-07:00A Personal ChoiceIf I were to give myself to the steel <br />You probably wouldn't notice at all<br />If you did, it would just be an afterthought<br />A stuck thorn you use to gain sympathy<br />Then promptly pull out when satisfied<br />My depression is like the vine it came from<br />It grows until it strangles the child watering it<br />Then hangs his body high where no one can see<br />Except for the dying angels and vulturesRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-27642896116606174382012-07-05T18:23:00.004-07:002012-07-05T19:06:16.979-07:00Misotheism<span style="font-style: italic;">If you're religious, you shouldn't read this. I won't be held responsible for</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">the anger this may cause</span><br /><br />I fit into this world like Mercury rain drops<br />A petty thief in Guantanomo's bowels<br />Inhaling stress then exhaling awkwardness<br />Filter tossed to the ground, never decaying<br />Fear stays when everything else dies<br />I hold it next to my heart like a bible<br />When praying to a god I don't even like<br />Sadistic player of emotions and health<br />I'll make sure to flip Him off before I go to Hell<br />Where the flames will weld my wounds shutRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-52514189713013814472012-07-03T22:10:00.000-07:002012-07-03T22:11:37.176-07:00I Love My CountryHappy birthday America<br />Subject of the patriot cult<br />Sacrificing the ill in your name<br />Fed rotted culture until you vomit<br />Sift through it and become educated<br />Toss that away and keep the bile<br />Just save it for a rainy day<br />Keep dry with flak jackets and guns<br />Let the poor die in the precipitation<br />Bury them under embezzled funds<br />It’s their fault for making clouds, right?<br />All knowing one with solutions for all<br />Keeps their dunce cap in the closet<br />Next to their Viagra and ankle monitorRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-45650514446000460302012-07-02T08:10:00.004-07:002012-07-02T08:28:01.593-07:00Poetry Don't Work On WhoresShe throws herself at pedestrians<br />Because that's what society dictates<br />An offering to the celluloid gods<br />Orange coated in their worthless majesty<br />A dry hole in her body creates a vacuum<br />That engulfs everything she touches<br />It could set the polar ice caps on fire<br />Uncover Atlantis as a barren desert<br />I feel blessed that she walked past me<br />As if I dodged a bullet coated in diseaseRobert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-44563259653739561402012-06-28T08:21:00.000-07:002012-06-28T08:26:25.016-07:00The World Is An Allergen<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I wish I could swallow every atom </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Without them clawing my throat </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">As they fall to the junkyard depths </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Constant lethargy is keeping me alive </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">And sirens just go right through me</p>Robert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-13804015381088649022012-06-26T10:35:00.000-07:002012-06-26T10:40:01.475-07:00A Miserable Little Pile Of Secrets<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">You spent too much time chasing vampires </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">When you should have followed the red star</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Every action has an equal and opposite reaction </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Now your organs fall apart like a teenage love affair</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I may not have been able to stop the collapse </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">But I could have at least pulled out the needles </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">That were placed in your cotton flesh all these years</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">You blame everyone for what you subject yourself to</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Never accepting the underlying cause of your blackened skin </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">That's about the same shade as your heart is now</p>Robert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5951200912604144860.post-67893595345099638782012-06-25T07:06:00.000-07:002012-06-25T07:20:25.811-07:00Cola And Cigarettes<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I should probably be sleeping right now </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">The solar system's pangs keep me awake </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Its sounds resemble a frightened child's weep </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Selfishly, I hear a little of myself in every one </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">(all those nights spent clawing at the moon)</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Every Time I Die projects a little contrast </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Catharsis for catharsis drops dreams dead </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I am awake while every atom slumbers blissfully </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">It's the end of the world, it's a moment of peace</p>Robert Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01182788112297916126noreply@blogger.com2