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syringe

Quotes about syringe, page 2

Lost & Found Pt.2 - Found Child

A baby born into addiction,
Fighting for his life before it began.
Held by his mother just once in his life,
Then he is taken from her hands.

Taken to be given a chance
To be healthy outside and in.
A chance to grow big and strong,
Free from his mother's sins.

The child has a family now
And a very loving home.
They took him in for what he was
And raised him as their own.

Years have passed since his birth
And he questions who he really is.
Looking at his loving parents
He knows thier features are not his.

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Dragons

well im watching the dragons as they make another claim
he used to be a friend of mine, i called him by his name
well theres nothing you can say to nirvana when its packed up in a syringe
we'll call up your mama and bus in all your friends
well im watching the dragons
as they slither out of sight
and i wonder who'll be sleeping alone tonight
beth lost her sister, they came and they took her away
and there aint enough pills in the world and nothing i can say
so i tell her i love her and that shes a friend
and each time i leave her, i wonder if i'll see her again
well im watching the dragons
as they slither out of sight
and i wonder who'll be sleeping alone tonight
then i look in the mirror
the dragon has many forms
i wonder if hes coming for me
because i have been forewarned
well im wathing the dragons
as they slither out of sight

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First Contact

Her hair
a light corn brown.
Beneath luscious
living vibrant veil.
Soul sold bankrupt
in forced financial sale.

Is callously
brutally
drowned.


Her perfume
laced with maddening musk
drives young lust
into desire degenerate dust.

Men flock mindless
herded horny droves
driven flash-flood

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Everything, Everyone

I don't want to see anymore
Don't want to open my eyes and witness
Everything in this world has been corrupted
It seems
Everything in this world is worth nothing
It seems
So sew these green eyes
Close them forever with this
Needle, red wire

I don't want to hear anymore
Don't want to open my mind to the sound
Everything in this world is seductive
It seems
Everything in this world is worth nothing
It seems
So break both these ears
Close them forever with this
Syringe, screwdriver

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Dr. Stein

Once they killed his monster when it went into a trap
now he's making better ones on a higher step
Bridge: On a warm summer day the doctor went away
to a place where he could make it real
his assistant's hips were nice
so he cloned her once or twice
now his hips are aching what a deal
Chorus: Dr. Stein grows funny creatures
lets them run into the night
they become
[1] great rock musicians
[2] great politicians
[3] a great possession
[4] a great oppression
Sometimes when he's feeling bored
he's calling it a day
he's got his computers and they do it their own way
Bridge: They mix some DNA, some skina and a certain spray
you can watch it on a laser screen
and the fellow's blue and grey

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Manic Depression, and Opium.

Salty Tears
May embrace my fears
Yet, true love will never pervert me.

Riddles and Rhymes
My life-they define
Yet, sorrow may never desert me.

Powerful Dust
Consumes my life now-it must!
And, desire it does abuse me.

Sin Ridden Grief
May suck the life out of me
Until happiness, it only excludes me.

Needles and Syringes
Seem to throw me right off the hinges
And, only my mania is there to catch me.

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Self's Solitray Cell - Not Life Sentencing

Foolish of me Dear Sister
from my life I feel
I nearly let your presence pass
Though one day we must let go
from all we embrace in this life
forever loving while remaining unattached

Dear brother I feel I let you down
those times I often ran my mouth
allowing ego to dictate half of
what I say and write
Please believe this phase I've passed
my words still playing catch up
with my life's current act
For creative emotive spark
so often I've dipped into
the dark dissonant ink well of my past.

The need to mature beyond mere words
and self perception manipulation

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Bonnie Cat

Bonnie cat o!
Bonnie cat... don't go away
Bonnie cat look! you make funny bunny crying,
Bonnie cat see it is cold and will not you
come and have me sleep in your warmth
Bonnie cat will not we play the strings of a piano together
one which made the days of summer like a swallow bird
humming into the chilly wintry nights in the command of a nightingale
Bonnie cat o!

Bonnie cat o!
Bonnie cat look i have carrot soup for you
Shall not we chase and try to fly like those duffy ducks
they now bully me bonnie cat
Bunny is so scored without you
Shall not we play in the sunshine meadows
and steal milk from the chocolate hut
Shall not you tell me again to run and get you the rainbow past you
Shall not we see the fountains emerge again and quench our thirst
Bonnie cat o!

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Tristan Tzara

Proclamation Without Pretension

Art is going to sleep for a new world to be born
"ART"-parrot word-replaced by DADA,
PLESIOSAURUS, or handkerchief

The talent THAT CAN BE LEARNED makes the
poet a druggist TODAY the criticism
of balances no longer challenges with resemblances

Hypertrophic painters hyperaes-
theticized and hypnotized by the hyacinths
of the hypocritical-looking muezzins

CONSOLIDATE THE HARVEST OF EX-
ACT CALCULATIONS

Hypodrome of immortal guarantees: there is
no such thing as importance there is no transparence
or appearance

MUSICIANS SMASH YOUR INSTRUMENTS

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X-Ecutioner Style (feat. Black Thought)

(feat. Black Thought)
From the top
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up when Im talking to you
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Im about to br
Wasnt that fun?
Lets try something else
Forty-five calibre killer from out of the filler
Definitely going to show yall brothers how you not a gorilla
Smooth talking, fully automatic weapon concealer
Taste thriller, break thriller
Lets hit em with the bounce filler
Filthy stinking, standing on solid ground
And still be sinking, submerging in the parks

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Calm Like A Bomb

I be walkin' god like a dog
My narrative fearless
My word war returns to burn
Like Baldwin home from Paris
Steel from a furnace
I was born landless
It's tha native son
Born of Zapata's guns
Stroll through tha shanties
And tha cities remains
Same bodies buried hungry
But with different last names
These voltures rob everything
Leave nothing but chains
Pick a point tha globe
Yes tha pictures tha same
There's a bank a church a myth and a hearse
A mall and a loan a child dead at birth
There's a widow pig parrot
A rebel to tame

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Coco days – Part 1 – Coco Days - Acrostic

Calmly sitting here in the absence of sun,
Over eating thick dark chocolate.
Comparable to the kind beneath pretty colored foils,
Often molded into sweet compelling images.

Delusions of what could have been,
And my Easter was stolen from me.
Yes my joy season was taken from me,
So no smiling chocolates.

Cultivated bitterness eludes my mouth,
Oozing a coco high.
Carefully instilled for pleasure,
Opiate in some other life

Defiantly not my season
All over my life permeated bitterness,
Yes no coco for pleasure
Simply no trace in my life

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The Poppy Isn't Always A Flower...

Poppies, red and pretty be...

Intensely fantasial,
as they be malignant
like Autumns leaves
in the grip of Winter.
Self-inflicted disease,
despite outward signs,
the abstract dreams,
the tolling of bells
in the silence of night,
that deafen sprite ears,
stun equilibrium,
fork the numb tongue,
hurniating the pores
of your apothecaried Brain.
And the syringes you stole
out the bowels of the clinic,
during a 'trip' thru' your slanted Mind.
................Did you really not know you were dying?

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Patrick White

Snow On The Streets

Snow on the streets grooved by tires
into a bar-code. A band burning its first c.d.
Garbage bags humped against the parking meters
like terraformed drunks in an albino mindscape.
I want to sleep. But savage clouds are fuming
with moonlight. Oblivion's sweet, my little death,
gentle as a snowflake but the prelude to it
is pierced by cauterizing anxieties
like a needle park for voodoo dolls.

I'd rather be a butterfly, a pinwheel
spinning on an axis through my thorax
but you can't have it all. I tilt away from the sun
at perigee and try to stretch the night out
like a budget of meds for the month.
The dark's a cool poultice that draws
the infection out of my dreams. It
sublimates my sorrows like dry ice
that skipped the tears. I don't want to get wet
in an ice-age. Crucified by icicles

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Dopamine

WE LOVE EACH OTHER, you say

You must be swimming away

In the mackerel ambience, doped

With big puff dragon on your heels

The whole twenty four hours

Of the sun's vicinity

And the moon's feasibility

For here I am sinking deeper and deeper

Into a lifeless desert of contemplation

Mystified eyes full of dust

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Subject - 731

Flickering bulbs, pass a narrowing hall
Where the conscience ape still glimmers
His breath percolates, as he's held to the bed
Straps tugging away at his femur

Fear escalates, as the wheals nimbly turn
Boldly, towards the screaming tomb
For the ape is aware: that no one returns
Exactly intact from that room

Closer and closer, the ape slowly goes
Down to the jaws of the abyss
Where brothers now lay, mementoes for worms
Indiscriminately erased

Squirming with effort, he puts up a struggle
While white coats plant him a needle
Weight grows unsteady, the light becomes vague
Chemically, enabled feeble

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Patrick White

I Can Remember You Screaming

I can remember you screaming
like a shattered crack house window
something obscene to the last john on death row
you railed like a comet in passing.
Your mind was a mirror
that had suffered one too many exorcisms
not to weep on the dark side
like an exhausted eclipse
when you cracked like a wishbone for the boys
and I could never imagine
what you said to yourself
when you picked yourself up after them like toys
they had forgotten they had wished for.
When you pulled the shower curtain closed
like a bruise on a nun
were you in a cloister or a confessional
or are there other vows
that can only be broken by a professional?
You were all gates to everyone
but no matter how many they passed through

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Patrick White

And There Are People

And there are people with glass blood and chalk hearts
who ask you to believe that razorwire is a grape vine,
and the moon nothing but a cold stone, half-people
in stolen straitjackets with secret agendas of blackflies
disguised as the smile of a leaf, passionless people
with the emotional life of an insecticide
who cannot understand they’re as transparent as larvae in a canning jar
though you’d think the way they verbally profess the light
they were apostolic butterflies. Look at a Dutch elm
smothered in the smog of gypsy moths to see what I mean.
From a mineral point of view, life lives off of life,
a type of organic perpetual motion machine,
a biological conservation of energy principle enacted
by the brutal genius of the uncompromising creatrix,
whatever form or name you attribute to that
which is without attributes, like starlight invisible until
it encounters an object, as we know the wind
by what resists it, as we know a lie
by the opposition of the truth. And just as I do a garden
where I always leave a little for the jays, deer, raccoons,

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Disappearing Generation

We’ve got used to the disappearance of some people,
we just worry a while and then forget, sometimes regret,
it’s merely a question of time.
But…it’s a pity when we don’t care a dime
when the whole generation disappears,
when nothing good to follow appears.
I would like to speak about the generation of women over fifty.
They are certainly not guilty, I mean, of their age,
which anyone shouldn’t accept with rage.
But today those women seldom appear on the screens, in the scenes,
they seldom visit theaters and cinema halls,
their places are occupied by young dolls.
They do not go abroad,
This trip some of them can’t afford.
But where are they?
Where do they stay?
They are in a hospital, in a market, in a flat,
little by little getting fat.
They are defenceless, often dreamless,
they do not go out, they do not shout,

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Switch

Ladies and Gentleman
Thankyou very much for coming out this evening
Yeah Thank You
Thank You
Please take the Dance Floor
Uh I would like to welcome you to the Switch remix
Now all you got to do is let your body move
And just (woo)
Vibe the vibe a second, it's a club girl why you arrived naked
Hear that, how the veteran glide the record
But don't download, go out and buy the record
Something sexy about a,
Girl on the floor, all her friends around her
I mean real clean, ain't gotta touch or nothing
It ain't like I like a chick on chick or something
Just a sucker for a hot track,
Gimme a drink and a chick to tell 'Stop that'
Dance is a hop and a clap, flip it round
Now bring it on back, break it down
Now Switch!

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