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Artificial Elitist Intellectual Prison
                                                                                               (by Geo Kas)

You once claimed to be an open person,
But I can’t take your word for it.
Take it or leave it,
Verify what you can,
If you can…
The door’s labeled Welcome—
but look, don’t touch the handle.

But your secrets and lies make you hard to believe,
An Artificial Elitist Intellectual Prison,
Where doubt is treated as a deficit:
A journey into madness
That’s just called being a friend,
Laughing over the static,
You shrug it off in your pique,
But your “truths” are like a heartlight—reaching blind.
Warm enough to lure me in—I drown in it.

You once claimed to be an open person.
You just can’t stand some things (too bad).
You say Taylor Swift’s music annoys you,
You shut down the broadcast,
Never considering you’ve trained yourself not to listen.
Perspective pulls us further and further apart.

Our openness is nothing more than a passive-aggressive epiphany,
Our closeness is nothing less than an Artificial Elitist Intellectual Prison.
We don’t get closer—we reorganize the distance.

Artificial Elitist Intellectual Prison (by Geo Kas) You once claimed to be an open person, But I can’t take your word for it. Take it or leave it, Verify what you can, If you can… The door’s labeled Welcome— but look, don’t touch the handle. But your secrets and lies make you hard to believe, An Artificial Elitist Intellectual Prison, Where doubt is treated as a deficit: A journey into madness That’s just called being a friend, Laughing over the static, You shrug it off in your pique, But your “truths” are like a heartlight—reaching blind. Warm enough to lure me in—I drown in it. You once claimed to be an open person. You just can’t stand some things (too bad). You say Taylor Swift’s music annoys you, You shut down the broadcast, Never considering you’ve trained yourself not to listen. Perspective pulls us further and further apart. Our openness is nothing more than a passive-aggressive epiphany, Our closeness is nothing less than an Artificial Elitist Intellectual Prison. We don’t get closer—we reorganize the distance.

Artificial Elitist Intellectual Prison
...
A #FireWorksProse by #GeoKas

#poetry

#poem

#poetrycommunity

#writersofinstagram

#writingcommunity

#spokenword

#wordsofinstagram

#relationships

#friendship

#boundaries

#selfrespect

#emotionalintelligence

#healing

#mentalhealthawareness

#truth

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YT PEOPLE TWERKIN’ by Geo Kas
1. Bong — entry point; rupture before intention
2. The Crux — confrontation, boundary-setting, power misalignment
3. Free / You Never Know — uncertainty as posture; forward motion
4. FOUR! — lineage, structure, inheritance

My brother’s got 46 guitars,
one for each year that
he’s worked them hard,
pedals pressed to the metal,
and a daughter who knows me
only through second-hand news—
a lone totem in a hierarchy of love.

Another brother has wheeled and dealed
with the best of them.
Born of our mother, he’s the first of us,
the first to emerge.

He carved a path toward the best odds
of success,
his love of “Jesus” narrowing his scope,
the first and last standing
between the three of us—
really four, but that first one
made of only half of us.

All she does is try-try-try,
second-hand news all over town.
Momma’s still trying
to carry her pride.

Our lives are like a thrift store
she wishes she could buy,
but those doors are closed to her now.

And then there’s me, #2 of 3+1,
all of us suns running late—
I’ve become a hub-husband,
shining like a dull moon.

I’m like Earhart,
never making it all the way
around the world,
splashing my way
across a few continents.

All she does is try-try-try
(Momma’s never shown)
her nature came naturally.

All she does is cry-cry-cry
(Momma damn your eyes)
she kept moving forward,
no matter how slow.

Momma, momma, mom,
four holes in her heart—
& we were always on her mind.
Momma lived and died at home.

5. Wrapping Paper — preparation without revelation; ritual before meaning
6. YT People Twerking — satire as surface tension; identity under spectacle
7. You Can’t Blame It on the Weedbröh — the mask answering back; persona vs. accountability
8. Worlds — personal scale colliding with systems
9. Wind — motion without force; drift and inevitability
10. Down to Three — reduction, counting, loss
11. God! — recognition before reckoning
12. Human Basil — exhaustion; moral inventory
13. Seppuku — terminal act; FIN~

YT PEOPLE TWERKIN’ by Geo Kas 1. Bong — entry point; rupture before intention 2. The Crux — confrontation, boundary-setting, power misalignment 3. Free / You Never Know — uncertainty as posture; forward motion 4. FOUR! — lineage, structure, inheritance My brother’s got 46 guitars, one for each year that he’s worked them hard, pedals pressed to the metal, and a daughter who knows me only through second-hand news— a lone totem in a hierarchy of love. Another brother has wheeled and dealed with the best of them. Born of our mother, he’s the first of us, the first to emerge. He carved a path toward the best odds of success, his love of “Jesus” narrowing his scope, the first and last standing between the three of us— really four, but that first one made of only half of us. All she does is try-try-try, second-hand news all over town. Momma’s still trying to carry her pride. Our lives are like a thrift store she wishes she could buy, but those doors are closed to her now. And then there’s me, #2 of 3+1, all of us suns running late— I’ve become a hub-husband, shining like a dull moon. I’m like Earhart, never making it all the way around the world, splashing my way across a few continents. All she does is try-try-try (Momma’s never shown) her nature came naturally. All she does is cry-cry-cry (Momma damn your eyes) she kept moving forward, no matter how slow. Momma, momma, mom, four holes in her heart— & we were always on her mind. Momma lived and died at home. 5. Wrapping Paper — preparation without revelation; ritual before meaning 6. YT People Twerking — satire as surface tension; identity under spectacle 7. You Can’t Blame It on the Weedbröh — the mask answering back; persona vs. accountability 8. Worlds — personal scale colliding with systems 9. Wind — motion without force; drift and inevitability 10. Down to Three — reduction, counting, loss 11. God! — recognition before reckoning 12. Human Basil — exhaustion; moral inventory 13. Seppuku — terminal act; FIN~

PRESENTS:
💽YT PEOPLE TWERKIN’ — by Geo Kas💽

A music project about inheritance, masks, and what survives contact with time.

Track 4, FOUR!, is a poem because it isn’t ready to be a song yet.

BONG (DEMO) was just a foot in the door, but now I'm settling the score!

linktr.ee/GeoKas

#GeoKas
#Poetry

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Is it #Pride just because we call it that?
Is it really what it seems?
Are we flaunting enough to get on the shelf?
Woke in our dream
Who am I?
What are you?
What bearing does it have on truth?
At a glance: shallow, dull, unsurprised.
Born not to be the glimmer—just the eye—queer👁️🏳️‍🌈
#GeoKas

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A Message for Nevada on Independence Day

As Nevadans, we mark Independence Day not just as another date on the calendar, but as a reminder that the American story is still being written—right here, in our own communities. Nevada entered the Union in 1864, in the midst of the Civil War, when the nation’s future was anything but certain. Our “Battle Born” legacy means we were forged in a moment of division, called to help preserve the Union and push the boundaries of what freedom could mean for all Americans.

Our deserts have witnessed atomic tests that changed the world, our mines fueled the growth of the West, and our people—diverse, stubborn, and resilient—have built a state that defies easy definition. We know that freedom isn’t just inherited; it’s something we have to fight for, protect, and sometimes even redefine. Nevada has always been a crossroads for new ideas and people seeking a fresh start—whether they came for gold, for luck, or for a place to live as themselves.

Today, as we celebrate, let’s remember that real freedom is never finished. It means speaking up, showing up, and standing up—not just for ourselves, but for our neighbors. It means asking hard questions about what kind of state, and country, we want to leave behind. It means honoring sacrifice—but also demanding accountability and progress.

So whether your Nevada roots go back generations or you just arrived, this 4th of July, take pride in the complicated, unfinished project that is both Nevada and America. Celebrate safely, think deeply, and don’t mistake fireworks for true liberty. Let’s keep building a place where independence isn’t just a word, but a lived reality for all.

Happy Independence Day, Nevada—Battle Born, and still becoming.

❤️Pachzën Weedbröh 

Geo Kas

A Message for Nevada on Independence Day As Nevadans, we mark Independence Day not just as another date on the calendar, but as a reminder that the American story is still being written—right here, in our own communities. Nevada entered the Union in 1864, in the midst of the Civil War, when the nation’s future was anything but certain. Our “Battle Born” legacy means we were forged in a moment of division, called to help preserve the Union and push the boundaries of what freedom could mean for all Americans. Our deserts have witnessed atomic tests that changed the world, our mines fueled the growth of the West, and our people—diverse, stubborn, and resilient—have built a state that defies easy definition. We know that freedom isn’t just inherited; it’s something we have to fight for, protect, and sometimes even redefine. Nevada has always been a crossroads for new ideas and people seeking a fresh start—whether they came for gold, for luck, or for a place to live as themselves. Today, as we celebrate, let’s remember that real freedom is never finished. It means speaking up, showing up, and standing up—not just for ourselves, but for our neighbors. It means asking hard questions about what kind of state, and country, we want to leave behind. It means honoring sacrifice—but also demanding accountability and progress. So whether your Nevada roots go back generations or you just arrived, this 4th of July, take pride in the complicated, unfinished project that is both Nevada and America. Celebrate safely, think deeply, and don’t mistake fireworks for true liberty. Let’s keep building a place where independence isn’t just a word, but a lived reality for all. Happy Independence Day, Nevada—Battle Born, and still becoming. ❤️Pachzën Weedbröh Geo Kas

#IndependenceDay2025 #Nevada #GeoKas #BattleBorn #VoteWeedbroh

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Screenshot of poem “(the teeth still hurt)” by Geo Kas. Full text:

(the teeth still hurt) by Geo Kas

I get all of his venom, but I'm immune to the poison (the teeth still hurt)
Trapped in the viper pit, playing cards just to hold 'em
Shouting over videos he plays on his screens
One big one, one small one, both loud and obscene
Documentaries about psychopaths
Killers and dates gone bad
It seems that's all he wants to see
And I have to wonder who in his mind he replaces with me

I know it's imagined, and he doesn't even think of me at all
He fills me with anger and vitriol
Lost in translation, or frayed neighborly miscommunications, maybe it's just tired frustration
Possibilities I know conspire to give me constipation

I'm immune to the poison, but I get all the venom (the teeth still hurt)
Using our cards to scrape out a better living
Screens don't drown out the frustrated screams
One big one, one small one, arguing perpetually, it seems
Neighbors circling like psychopaths
Knives drawn behind their backs
It seems like no one can understand
We hired a bad contractor and they fucked us really bad

And no it's not imagined, yet we feel defrauded worst of all
It fills us with anger and vitriol
Lost in translation, or challenges in communication, tried to get explanations
And I didn't really get close to escaping this viper pit at all...

Screenshot of poem “(the teeth still hurt)” by Geo Kas. Full text: (the teeth still hurt) by Geo Kas I get all of his venom, but I'm immune to the poison (the teeth still hurt) Trapped in the viper pit, playing cards just to hold 'em Shouting over videos he plays on his screens One big one, one small one, both loud and obscene Documentaries about psychopaths Killers and dates gone bad It seems that's all he wants to see And I have to wonder who in his mind he replaces with me I know it's imagined, and he doesn't even think of me at all He fills me with anger and vitriol Lost in translation, or frayed neighborly miscommunications, maybe it's just tired frustration Possibilities I know conspire to give me constipation I'm immune to the poison, but I get all the venom (the teeth still hurt) Using our cards to scrape out a better living Screens don't drown out the frustrated screams One big one, one small one, arguing perpetually, it seems Neighbors circling like psychopaths Knives drawn behind their backs It seems like no one can understand We hired a bad contractor and they fucked us really bad And no it's not imagined, yet we feel defrauded worst of all It fills us with anger and vitriol Lost in translation, or challenges in communication, tried to get explanations And I didn't really get close to escaping this viper pit at all...

(the teeth still hurt)
by Geo Kas
[6/26/2025]

"I get all of his venom, but I'm immune to the poison..."

If this hits, follow for more. 💛 #poetry #music #songwriter #GeoKas #Weedbroh #RealityBites #TeethStillHurt #WritingCommunity #Indie #artist #Pandemica Comics Group
#VoteWeedbroh July 4th-7th!🃏

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🚀 Moved to Round 3 of America’s Next Top Hitmaker!

👑 “Not New, Just A Bit Diff'rent 8IGHTh!”
🎶
New Round, New Pose!

Check it out & vote if you got @noh8campaign.bsky.social & support for Gay ole Pachzën Weedbröh:

tophitmaker.org/2025/pachz-n...

#88MPH #PandemicaComicsGroup #GeoKas #TopHitMaker

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#QueerLit #DarkFiction #PsychologicalThriller #ShortStory #Nightlife #TabooFiction #IndieAuthor #GeoKas

Teaser:
"How far would you go outside your comfort zone for adventure?
For Danny, his ‘first gaycation’ spirals into a seductive, terrifying underworld—where masks fall & escape seems impossible"

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The Thirsty Verse
by Geo Kas

#PoetryOfTheDay
#SpokenWord
#IndiePoet
#VerseOfTheMoment
#PoetryCommunity
#PoetsOfInstagram
#PoetryLovers
#ModernPoetry
#SearchingForSelf
#SoulJourney
#BrokenButShimmer
#HealingThroughWords
#ChaosAndClarity
#BattleWornBeauty
#ReclaimingMyNarrative
#BuiltFromRuin
#GeoKas

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#poetry #GeoKas

I wrote this thinking of all of you, especially @lisaloeb.bsky.social because one day maybe she'll be stricken by my poetic heart...no more rotten & diseased than any other wordy-wordsmith!

(full disclosure I let ChatGPT format & fine tune what I wrote a smidge)

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Wrapping Paper (by Geo Kas)

Some people collect wrapping paper so they have it all year long.
Some people wait until it’s needed, and just do what can be done.
Other people use gift bags—some send a card.
There are many easy ways to give a gift, the sentiments are hard.
Worrisome optics; "What will they say?!"
If the gift you thought was the best expression doesn't convey.

There are many ways to speak your mind
The format shouldn't matter
Missed opportunities are delayed opportunities
They can still be salvaged
What one person throws away finds a use out in the wild

Some people share gifts, while other people just accept them
It's not to say it's greedy ways—
they're simply disadvantageous
This present day and age has left us all a little needy
The gift of you alone is only half as pleasing
The pot is half empty and half full
Seasons are for sweetening!

(add a ethereal choir and a melodic arrangement of ancient instruments)

Wrapping Paper (by Geo Kas) Some people collect wrapping paper so they have it all year long. Some people wait until it’s needed, and just do what can be done. Other people use gift bags—some send a card. There are many easy ways to give a gift, the sentiments are hard. Worrisome optics; "What will they say?!" If the gift you thought was the best expression doesn't convey. There are many ways to speak your mind The format shouldn't matter Missed opportunities are delayed opportunities They can still be salvaged What one person throws away finds a use out in the wild Some people share gifts, while other people just accept them It's not to say it's greedy ways— they're simply disadvantageous This present day and age has left us all a little needy The gift of you alone is only half as pleasing The pot is half empty and half full Seasons are for sweetening! (add a ethereal choir and a melodic arrangement of ancient instruments)

Them holidays, right?

Wrapping Paper (by Geo Kas)

#New #PoetryCommunity #Art #Holidays #NewYear #Gifts #GeoKas #WritingCommunity

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Glass Jars
by Geo Kas

I keep my best parts sealed in little glass jars,
Too many to house in my fragile glass heart.
It strains with hues of orange, purple, and gray,
Veins bulging like roots on a green face of clay.

I bake from these fragments, balm for my bones,
To harvest the resin of moments I've sown.
Potent as smoke from a well-loved bong,
Fuel for the rhythm, the ache, and the song.

Glass Jars by Geo Kas I keep my best parts sealed in little glass jars, Too many to house in my fragile glass heart. It strains with hues of orange, purple, and gray, Veins bulging like roots on a green face of clay. I bake from these fragments, balm for my bones, To harvest the resin of moments I've sown. Potent as smoke from a well-loved bong, Fuel for the rhythm, the ache, and the song.

#Glass #Jars 🫙 #GeoKas #Poetry #Art #New #Writing

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Preview
My 2024 Wrapped - Get yours 2024 Wrapped

My subscription is actually with @PandoraMusic, but @Spotify is also very good for NEW music from great new artists--like myself!

#Wrapped2024 #GeoKas

open.spotify.com/wrapped/shar...

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