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About Literature / Hobbyist BrendenMale/United States Group :iconliquorcabinet: LiquorCabinet
 
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It was sudden,
Like a punchline to a joke.

He was walking, talking, breathing.

He had survived gauntlets,
Challenged every coma, every crushed lung, every injury of which there were many.
He had challenged them to end him.

and he won.

Lay upon the floor, still quiet sudden silence.

Crying laden with laughter,
the fruits of his life that none who knew him could ever cry,
without the chuckle ringing out like that last gasp.

Upon the mantle of many memories he lies.
The father who poisoned himself
rather than spirits or bodies of others.

A father of the heart to me,
the one who taught me subtle jokes and extravagant life; vibrant even in a dying den.

Of course the stillness that fills my mind punches me,
punches my eyes,
punches my energy.

The punchline.
What could I want from you?
A deceitful view of something new.
Nothing true or honest or nimble;
nothing moving like the fine art of
pen
over
paper.

Why should I trust a more upbeat tune
with the lyrics still stuck in a gloom ridden room of memories I boxed away and labeled 'to be removed.'

Out of the blue you think you can make my feet move?
You think I will dance again to your speeches?
To your words which you mean only as far as they glean a meaningful glimpse of those you would like to see?

Because I have been made the pathway,
you would tread me.

Ten years of silence leaves a wound.
The only time I heard your voice
was when you asked to speak to someone else.

You never wanted to reconnect with me.

So do not lie now,
and offer what you think I could possibly want.

What could I want from you?
Another memory to move,
to press down into the depths of my regrets
for ever being your son.
The Reconnection Rejection
This one is obviously personal... it isn't art... just how I feel.
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I am a tale of vengeance
riding across the lands
seeking you out
through the burning fire sands

Whispers of you
have traveled through the earth
and I am here
to reclaim you for the dirt.

Your victims have cried
into my open ears
and their sorrow is mine
I'll hold it while you die

And who am I?
You say?

Oh, just who am I.
That you face your judgement day.

Well I am your worst fear
just a face lost in the scene.
You won't know. No.
You won't know until I've got away clean.

Because I am absolutely no one.
No one you have seen.
You won't see me
lost among your memories

because I am absolutely no one
I am just a dream
but don't forget
that sometimes dreams
Are shaped by your reality.

I am not a transgressed
bleeding in the streets,
I was never standing in your way.

I am not a rejected hope of your saving grace
I am the final say
who puts you back into place.

Because I am absolutely no one.
No one you have seen.
Don't look for me
lost among your memories.

I am NO ONE
and this is not your dream.
Sometimes, with all your lies.
NIGHTMARES BECOMES REALITY.
I Am No One
This is a song I have been working on for a friend. Decided to post the lyrics.
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Strange stumblings summoned something simmering sinnfully
Under unbidden utterances, unifying unforgotten yet unloved;
meaningful, meandering, malicious... memories. Made manically
in times tedious torpor. Tender, tough, thoroughly
in love. Lost longings, largely languished.

But still a flame, to be stroked to a pain. By surprise breath

of seeing a face.
How do I confuse the news - bust a fuse - when you're switching tunes
mode change so fast have a heart attack deep in a stark contrast - white when black is where your hearts at
so I'm ragging on in a rhyming song about all the reasons you are wrong

Control me?

Am I again thirteen?

Do I need to drink milk and keep my room clean, but I never did that anyway.
Why you play like you don't know me, what did you disown me for being unable to speak?
You got a sneak peek of a bleak person, shaped into a neat freak,
or should I say a freak who's neat?
This doggie doesn't do tricks. Throw away, I didn't chase no sticks.

I treated everyone like a little bitch who tried to owned me
tried to paddle me into submission by taking away admission to whatever distraction I was locked to
the pain I faced never haunted me so much that I gave up my will to be free.
I burnt any distraction used against me, feeling a fever contracting from a rage building.

Why did you think I never listened to you?
Trick question; if I have a an American quarter and a Canadian quarter in my till, and a customer hands me one American dollar for an item worth fifty cents, how can I give them correct American change?

Answer; it all depends on what people agree the Canadian quarter is worth. My till believes I have two quarters worth twenty-five American cents each, I thusly concur with my till and hand the customer the two quarters. Here is the tricky part, one of three things can now happen;

A: The customer does not notice the difference and accepts the change.

B: The customer does notice the difference and I am forced to explain that I have no other way of giving them change, in which case they may ask for their dollar back or accept the quarter.

C: The customer will notice the quarter but decide that, in the long run someone will accept it as a quarter and it will be worth twenty-five American cents.

And because all three of us (Customer, till, and I) agree that what just happened was a dollar paid and fifty cents back in change. We have all just acknowledged that the Canadian quarter is worth twenty-five cents in American currency.

This brings up a valid question, if seldom asked question to our society; how much is the American quarter worth? 

What is this money stuff that we work so hard to obtain, constantly working on our collections of it? The answer to this question is an extremely scary one, are you ready for it?

Nothing. Money is absolutely nothing. It is the mere sum of agreement by three parties, in one transaction, that this paper is replacement for actual worthy stuff. The idea of the dollar is strong in our society, achieving religious proportions of faith in money. People plan their months by it, judge their self-worth by their collections of it, and even die from not having enough of it.

I am going to tell you a story now. This story has already happened in a sense. Just be aware of this.

Say I opened a store with a selection of rare and hard to find goods that are sought after by many in the local populace. People walk into the store and acquire something like a hard to find tool, or a rare bottle of wine. They walk up to my till with it, I scan the item and ask for 3 Gorquips. The customer stares blankly at me, 

"What is a Gorquip?" they ask. 

"It is the only form of currency I accept." I answer. 

"Well I don't have any of those." They reply.

"That's OK because if you go out and bring back some stuff, I will buy them from you with Gorquips and then you will have some to buy this from me. Sound fair?" They nod and leave the store.

Now there is a line of people at the store, each with at least two items in their hand. One item they are selling for Gorquips, and the other an item they desperately want.

But since Gorquips are not a real thing, I can set the exchange rate to whatever I want. Thus I end up gaining a massive amount of worthwhile items, which I continue to sell and exchange.

Another store opens nearby, and I walk across the street to speak with the owner. 

"Hey buddy! Nice store you're opening here. Let me ask, are you going to be selling items in dollars or Gorquips?" the new store owner stares blankly at me.

"What are Gorquips?"

"They are a new fad currency! Popular around here. I'll tell you what, if you only accept Gorquips instead of dollars, I'll give you this nice security set up and make sure your store is safe, absolutely free!"

The owner of the new store agrees, but is hesitant. But soon enough shoppers come and buy stuff from him using Gorquips, and he smiles and pretends to think that he is earning something.

Meanwhile his shoppers are stopping at my store before they go to his, to sell me items for Gorquips. I amass a ton of inventory from this. Now my mission is simple, switch every store in the world to Gorquips.

This may sound like a ridiculous situation, if it had not already happened. If you have ever wondered what the Iraq war was truly about, it was about defending a currency as made up as a Gorquip; the US dollar.

Back in the 1970's, the US Government began an agreement with OPEC (Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries) that these countries would only sell petroleum in US dollars. Countries wanting to buy oil would give us gold for dollars so that they could buy oil. Soon after that, the United States removed the gold standard from the dollar so that none of the countries could buy back their gold, but they still needed to trade for oil. So they gave us other items.

This is how the United States is so damned wealthy, essentially we stole it.

In the year 2000, Iraq decided it did not want to sell in US dollars anymore, but instead sold in Euros. Three years later, the United States invaded Iraq and switched the sale of oil back to the United States dollar.

All for a currency that is worth, once again, absolutely nothing.

Even the basis for which this currency is made is worthless, made simply out of promises and belief in those promises.

You may have heard that all money is debt, let me fully explain what people mean by that.

A man and a woman go into a bank, they are a married couple and soon expect a new child. They are looking to buy a house but obviously lack the money to buy a house. This is where the bank comes in.

The bank loans them one-hundred thousand dollars at an interest rate of four-and-a-half. The payments will be made over 30 years.

This means that the bank will make $182408.40. But, long before that thirty years is up the bank will make a profit on this loan. They will take the interest they expect to make out of this deal and turn it into more money.

Most of the money they just loaned was not actually the banks money, but rather it was your money that you deposited in your bank. So this couple takes this money and buys a house. The people whom they bought the house from, in turn deposited the money at the same bank, where it is loaned again at more interest.

On top of that, the Federal Reserve will take a look at the interest a bank has owed to it, and subsequently print money based on the debt that is owed to the banks. Which it then gives to banks to loan out more, and more...

The more of the idea we owe to the creator of that idea, the more enslaved to the idea we are. It is time for a change.

Therefore I'm declaring my disagreeance with the worth of the American dollar. I will still accept it, because I must. I will still spend it, while I can. But I will not be holding onto it. I will get rid of it as fast as possible.

Because the bottom line here is that money is worth nothing.

deviantID

OgenB
Brenden
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Favourite genre of music: Pretty much everything but country.
MP3 player of choice: Computer :B
Favourite cartoon character: Nightcrawler
Personal Quote: Love and hate are the same in the same way up and down are the same, both are directions that go dif
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:icontmpst24myst:
tmpst24myst Featured By Owner Jul 29, 2014  Student Writer
happy birthday!! :cuddle: :cake: 
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:iconogenb:
OgenB Featured By Owner Jul 30, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Ha. Thanks. Sorry I didn't wish YOU one as well. I haven't really been on dA much these days. But hope you had a good one!
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:iconwhittykitty:
WhittyKitty Featured By Owner Dec 19, 2013  Professional Artisan Crafter
Going to enjoy reading your works!
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:iconatlantianowl:
AtlantianOwl Featured By Owner Jan 29, 2013  Student General Artist
Love your literature. I would upload mine but to be honest, i dont know how xD
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:iconogenb:
OgenB Featured By Owner Jan 29, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Well thank you. I learned to write on this website to be honest. Most of my grammar comes from chatting with grammar Nazis.
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:iconkyoplustohru:
kyoplustohru Featured By Owner Jul 4, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
thanks for da :iconllama3dplz:
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:iconeloquensartifex:
eloquensartifex Featured By Owner Feb 3, 2012
*peers at you suspiciously* What are you doing?
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