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Chest Intellectual Puffing by Ian Rand McKenzie

The Coalition

There was once a group with ambition
That called themselves a coalition
They set out to make a name
To earn fortune and fame

Residing in a place
Where toxicity was the race
They embraced the venom
To create their phenom

Exploiting children was their game
To earn the majority of their fame
With their methods revealed
Their infamy unveiled

It seems that people want you out
When you exploit children for all your clout
Forgetting the victims of these crimes
We put them through perilous times

We hate the name they take on
Rather than the leaders of the con
We persecute the victims
Attack the symptoms

We failed to attack the cause
That violate our basic laws
Of human decency and kindness
So, let's cure our blindness

And track down the leaders
I call upon you, readers
Destroy the coalition's clout
From this place, get them out

How to do this, you ask?
It's a very simple task
Like any pyramid scheme
Its recruits are its monetary dream

Without children to exploit
They're as bankrupt as Detroit
We must take these children in
Tell them the coalition is a sin

Like any war, it's not about forces
It's about control of resources
For the children, the world we must carve
Together, the coalition will starve

Wolf Totem

Praise this little totem
It would have saved my life
These killers, I loathe 'em
Putting these wolves through strife

Praise this little totem
Why was it them, instead of you?
I'm trying to find pieces of meaning
But I'm finding very few

This totem could have saved me
But it had to be you
My loyal, loving wolf
Blades slashing your sinew

Those heartless killers
They attacked you instead of me
They knew my love was with you
And not my money

They were not thieving riches
They were thieving my soul
Bless this little totem
It is now yours, as I pay death's toll

World Down

Imagine the world being down
Making you feel like a clown
Refreshing your sight
To see if it might…

…return to normal
To be back in view
From what was horrible
Into what you knew

Maybe it will never return
At least, not the same way
Maybe it'll burn
That's what doomsayers say

But, why listen to them?
They're absolutely no fun
Their thoughts amount to phlegm
Their spitting is never done

But, return it will
All in due course
So, for now, get your fill
Call a friend, water a plant, ride a horse

Do whatever you need
To make you feel whole
For when the world returns
It will need your full soul

Goodnight Sweet

Goodnight my sweet
How I love giving heat
To your pretty cold hands
Cold as ocean sands

Goodnight my sweet
I love how you heat
My cold, empty soul
Making it whole

Goodnight my sweet
How I'm glad we did meet
And meet, we will again
When the rooster crows to the hen

The Crystal Forest

At the edge of the crystal forest
Lies a lonely stable
Within it, a chest
Its contents for those who are able

The forest is unnatural
So would say man
Yet, these beings made this mural
It was their own plan

A rite of passage
For these hairless apes
To show their wise age
To forgo pillage and rapes

To place a crystal
Is to evolve into old
Into an individual
Instead of what you're told

At the edge of the crystal forest
You will become someone new
So lay your rage to rest
And join the peaceful few

Playing with Food

What do I want to eat?
Some vegetables or some meat?

If I were a nudist, what would I want for food?
Whatever it may be, I would surely eat it in the nude.

And if I were a conscientious vampire thirsting for blood,
I would drain a hog that I wrestled in the mud.

But, alas, I am not a nudist vampire wrestling a pig.
Perhaps I'll just have some cheese and nuts with a fig.

Little Red Dots

Little red dots
Show up on my sight
Little red dots
For my attention, they fight

Little red dots
Never give me peace
Little red dots
Take my time, piece by piece

Little red dots
Stir up excitement
Little red dots
Boil up my lament

Little red dots
Have so much to say
Little red dots
Ruin my day

The Dreamer’s Fate

Nothing is as it seems
In the waking dreamer's dreams

One moment, they're walking the street
The next, they're traversing giants' feet

Trying not to get crushed
One moment stopping, the next rushed

Back in reality, drawing near
That which he should truly fear

A careless driver, a speeding car
An intoxicated body, fresh from the bar...

...headed straight toward the dreamer's path
You can do the math

And your math would be wrong
For this is a different song

Of a dreamer in a forest
Of a drinker walking home to rest
Of a driver that stays off the road
And a plane with a car in its load

This Poor Fella

Let me tell you of a fella
Who cast a wide umbrella

Of things he like to eat
It was such an admirable feat

He had such a great attitude
About all kinds of food

A squid, a dragonfruit, a pine nut
Anything would go in this man's gut!

A bean, an ostrich egg, a bamboo shoot
One day, this man even ate a newt!
Which turned out to be the undoing for this poor fella
For he soon died of salmonella

Man in the City

In the days of my prime
I committed a social crime

For every day I would plot
To one day rule Camelot

Giving up fortune and fame
To play a silly game

Little did anyone know
This King Arthur would grow...

...from a boy everyone would pity
To an admired man in the city...

...who dares to have the audacious thought
of turning that city into Camelot.

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Do you normally dislike poetry? Me too! It turns out I like writing it, but I cringe at the thought of the stereotypical puffy culture surrounding it. If I want to smell my own farts all day, I stuff my belly with garlic and onions, thank you very much.

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