The Worst Kind of Poetry

by (NO) Chromosome

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The interesting people, the ones that we look up to, the more developed characters. My contradictions are plain and boring. Barely a pulse, an echo of life. I admit defeat at every waking hour. And every day I hear reminders. I keep journals from the world below to satisfy no one. My words are poisonous and yet I keep eating them. I'm starving for a voice different than the one that screams inside my head. I need a change of bones and make up applied with hammers. A screwdriver as medicine, bandages and all. Barbed wire kisses, of course. They say it's the little things that count. But they say many things. And, unfortunately, this is all we'll hear for a long time. Take this as a gesture of faked indifference. Under the weight of a fluorescent nightmare we drown. Lost in a maze of language, culture and suicide. Playing my part so well. No one ever cuts all the wires, that's my cynical excuse. What's yours? My own writing betrays me and I learn nothing from the experience. My handshakes are few and far between. I stab my own eyes on old photographs. I'm unable to reach, I breathe tar under this dense membrane of fabricated memories and false starts.
XXX/Y 02:42
Locked in A cage in pink and blue Force-fed The taste of nothing new It's just a scalpel To set things straight With loving gesture We mutilate The white coat realm Tame this flesh into place.
Irreversible 02:17
The pledge was spoken Their cries exploded Their fingers broken Their heads got buried in salt Pushing down Crying out Pushing down Cut and torn Shut your attention No will to create Changing your vision Denying their breath Carving Distress Dying In vain Irreversible Our lives are made irreversible
Please, lead the way I'll keep listening to you Forever Will you explain with detail? Will you make your colors shine? Will you use the big phrases? Will you make me want to die? The measure of things The condescending tone Myopic or not A captive dialogue.
Use only the safest roads Understand the understatement Disconnected So off Idle, empty Lost ones A dotted line of bullet holes The laws that hide on bathroom floors.
Each method written in standard form As instructions forced into the machine Interpreted in a mechanical process Thus embodied in this mechanism It’s a machine created for all tasks Fixed and determined by our own selves Social computer obeying the program Turned to the task of perpetuating itself
Cult 04:36
The door's wide open They won't come in Almost crying And not a glimpse Inadvertent wisdom We aspire (to) In this place where we're taught To sink or try Her voice was shaking She said "it's fine" But there was hell Behind her eyes We stay untainted We fix the drink We're pure and clean The way it's meant to be
A Genital ghost Un-fetishized and paralyzed This could be us Just passing through Three part romance Of swollen hands and restless knees In exhausting conversation With my own sense of mortality Here's and obvious one I hate this speech Am I clever enough? Am I cute?
New Wave 02:45
Been out Of place He smiles We stare A constraining ride On the golden side And we'll wave from here So they'll buy some time To bend and rewrite A threat to make it clear Wrong name Those blades So far Intent
Father protector strong men Don't be afraid of hell Because you are already there You are already cooking yourself You call that crispy fetus son He will suffer worse worse He will be eaten by the corporation demons There's no escape escape There's no escape No escape
The vultures sever the limbs of the lamb The cattle feed upon entrails of man No stone is turned when the boots are being stomped We are too thin, we have no mouth Our legs are stiff and knock together No stone is turned when the fist has grown strong Delusion is here, delusion is glorified No greatness leading the path to no liberty “No” is the word
We staged a ton of plots In hopes of finding some peace of mind They're singing songs about songs You've heard the best ones before The writing itself it's compromised This is a bootleg tape of our own words We stand for something else The microscope of time and space.
Not I 03:05


La disonancia como encuadre musical, estético, político y emocional.


released October 14, 2016

Mariano Platino: Batería.
Fer Suarez: Guitarra, diseño y arte, voces en 2, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10 y 12,
coros en 3. Letras en 1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9 y 12.
Manuel Platino: Bajo, grabación, mezcla, masterización, producción,
voces en 3 y 6, coros en 10 y 11. Letras en 3, 6 y 11. Theremin en 7.
Saxo en 4 y 12.

Carla Bissioli: Voz en 1 y 4.
Cammie Marsh: Letra en 10.
Duck Malatesta: Voz en 11.

Sample en 13: "Not I" (1973) de Samuel Beckett. Recitada por Billie Whitelaw.




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