The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Augmented



The creators we call ourselves,

The separators of atoms and cells,

Yet let Laozi give a hint if it was already there is man creating it?



So then adapting and changing is our only tool,

Something forgotten by CEO’s and fools,

Then man has been living in an augmented world,

I a sight only seen from outside eyes unfurled,

Starting with homo-habilis and continuing today,

Then we are still a part of nature though argument does say,

How can we say we are separate when like animals we behave?



Still need to eat,

Still need to crap,

Still need to sleep,

Still need to screw,

If different from animals why do we do everything they do?



Just because our memory adds flavor,

Is it really any different from all the different special behaviors?



For a man dressed up to take a girl on date in suit and tie with flowers raised,

Easily could be the little bird puffing up his chest with a shiny bottle cap he brought to be praised,

How silly that because we can discuss it,

That we decided we have changed,

Honestly we are playing the same game,

Just a board with humans on Boardwalk Park-place and Marvin gardens,

While animals barely sit past go with business men drooling over them,

Waiting for the last tie to be thrown off and obliterate their land,





What life is left for us upon the back end of images they sold?

No a couple douche-bags among us will doom a sustainable world,

Because the problems of humans Trump our choices,

Yet we are finally seeing our impacting voices,

For creatures who have so little control we killed any threats and paved over their homes,

Yet bears and mountain lions are our fear we destroyed their power forms,



Like a community of hunters we fear what barely kills,

What a mad human accomplishes in seconds for thrills,

Then what place will we live in when domestication's done,

I think a very lonely plane with soylent green on our tongues…





Sean Stutzman

Passion of My Blood





Come here my pet my subtle thing,

Your heart outstretched in palms shaking,

The smile crawls up my cheeks,

Gently brushing your hair makes you weak,

The romance comes in sacrifice,

The eyes of both glittering like fresh ice,





For centuries we have been misunderstood,

The darkest path of heathens leads to good,

For can you sit with Zotz’s brood smiling,

Knowing that all good comes from timing,

The darkest world must bring forth the light,

A feeling of raw passion coming through the night,





For from the bleeding of the age,

The gods play out a new cage,

One tied to plants and trees,

One no longer beset with greed,

They believed it was a holy seed,









The doctrine of the small gets prostituted to the large,

The doctrine of the large comes to eventually condemn the small,

For pagan once meant those on the fringes,

The common people were last to dawn papal figures,

For St. Nicolas holds the clue that the answers from our ancestors,

Meant to be as far from the money of the power as possible,

Only vilified for answers the church refused to give others,







For this some condemn the priest,

But pity from my view is the approach to place,

For who in a dystopic story do you feel most screwed?

The common man fighting back,

Or the idiot leader thinking he’s creating truth from terror,

A sadder existence in my view,

One so wrapped up in the schemes of the top to see his own ancestry is shot,

Put to ropes and stakes and feuds,

The original bird flu lies killed them too,

For peasants sitting in the fold,

Thought killing outsider helpers meant spiritual gold,

An idea even originators would see as callus and cold,













So grab back the common man’s fight,

Hear answers from those not brainwashed solely in light,

For as the Daoist say if too much is given to one side’s views,

Then the one in power becomes the evil pro-generator,

Not by choice but by simply not hearing any other voice,

So in history we find that when looking from the victim allows reversing lies,

Something we ignore too often by only believing in what gave us options,

Options often poisonous to another that you do see,

You do not spend time with,

Common people feel the pains those claims,

Why for so long they were reluctant into game,

Yet by colonial times when seeing another attached to the mother,

Nasty misunderstanding of person bleeds our story,

One we never give reflection but condemn others,





For sadly if even a little of the old was left a common tie to a thread,

Then treating others unjustly would have cross stamped on it,

And Christian wouldn’t have to shake their heads remembering it,

For every man, woman, and child claimed in those debacles,

Has little or no voice in side of our models,

So sacrifice is condemning to the old,

But I ask this:











If you were inside of Celtic observation only sacrificing in times of terror,

When resources die out and famine is in action,

Why say the Romans are better in faction,

When their world churned out hundreds of “criminal sacrifices,”

On timeframes that make our courts luxurious,

Mechanical structure feeds off the common today,

At least not to death most offensives have been swayed,

Then the common people are forever who is screwed,

And instead of convincing in times of horror to choose different discourse,

The powers at be went to eradicate the source,

Using terror on their own people to sacrifice others,

On piers and stakes the common folk mothers,

Then never has western society helped the common,

Until radical commons were using half of each option,

For the mason’s knew of how they would have been treated,

If openly they had manifested their belief systems,

Same with all the groups pushed to the outskirts by terrible few,

Yet the church speaks to the occult as still devils brew,

Yet they have slain millions and said that will not do,





What day will be when men and women here truth equally,

When people remember the church claimed women no souls,

When their art shows women mainly passing on their doctrine,

For the mosaics being changed should tell the Christian their true game,

No gnostic hold of god on high being pious, loving, and cleaning the poor;

No the main church shows how little they achieve on those goals,

Apparently popes find it more gosh to sit back with golden staffs and release criminal holy hosts,

I see then that my heretical ideas that seem crazy to them,

Do not damage another person though their beliefs did,

So as my opening seems scary to some,

Hear the voice inside the image drawn up,

For damage of another my beliefs will not allow,

Yet argument gets played that without the moral background of church,

That the heathens would ripped society apart,

A song sung by those pidgeoned-hole in seeing that most of what society was made by them,

And all the Christian game gave us was an ability to target the lower class,

Without giving them aid they lend to your crusades,

They enlist in armies the only thing seemed worth giving glory in your world,

For omnipotent forgiveness seems to con great strives for societal help,

Yet never reaching their targets they pat their backs and go home to palaces,

Separated from those they claim to want to benefit,

How many mega churches without taxing need to be?

When one in five children go hungry in the ultimate country of luxury…







I ask how long until we hear a true voice from our past on that even in Genesis warns of the Powerful controlling few,

Who try sitting in their cities arguing against strife?

Then you are as blind as the conversion groups acting benevolent yet punishing the construed,

For the name synagogue comes from pagan root,

The idea of nature as our overview is not new,

The stories of poisoned minds lash out in violence as truth,

Then ask what do I believe and what has done for me and for you…



Sean Stutzman