Riverside, CA    1992 -   
Pseudo-poet, scapegoat, barfly.
Lost laureate of yet another lost generation.
Pseudo-poet, scapegoat, barfly.
Lost laureate of yet another lost generation.

Thank you for the time

& thanks for the epiphany

keep up whatever it is

you feel like you're doing

perhaps "hiatus poetry" is a better title

I'll be back, eventually

I grow to despise all
which bring tears to my eyes

it's happened too many times now

I want nothing but your nonexistence
no happiness or sadness

just nothingness

I want apathy, I want disinterest
I want permanently handicapped empathy

I'll get there eventually

I'm losing faith that there's such
thing as hope, or faith for that matter

it's all drab around here, really

I try to pacify my bitterness
but my bitterness pacifies me

I'm taunted by the irony

I've lost count of the times
I've been made to feel so foolish

I'm getting used to being embarrassed

All you well-to-do women
with whatever is in your head

Keep respectable distance

your energy is better spent
on one who won't slowly with time

unravel at your feet

I can agree there's a lot to
hate about those who you pity

the ones who feel as I do

you see them vulnerable and
you feel in control and powerful

it disgusts you that you had no choice

you'll soon loathe as I do
and your niceness will be tarnished

I'll loathe all even more

I feel no sensations other than
some exhausted discontent

it becomes your true companion

I welcome it all at this point
there's no point to finding a point

maliciousness just exists, I guess

you or I are no exception
I know I'm feeling quite awful

I want to share my suffering

but it's for me and only me
my one and only property

my holy suffering

I'll carry it with me
exclusively

I cannot be one with this world
I won't adhere to what it requires
It shall be forced to my own will,
or I will exile myself willingly

with my suffering,
in pursuit of the only thing
I am truly entitled to

so it goes.
so it goes.
so it goes.

the bitterness is debilitating
and normally i'd fix that
with my writing but it's
writing that is making me
more bitter about it all

it isn't easy being a fraud
desperate for a place
longing for a practice
a hobby or whatever else

i look upon approving audience
when i dream, when i dream
i am accepted as a poet
separate from paralyzing falsities

but when i write i'm just a number
a broad categorization of where
my "art" is aimed
i sound like so many others that
sound so much like myself

will i ever transcend my
limitations? will there ever be
depth to what i have to share?

i don't change lives i just change minds

when i write i'm just a number

someone's losing faith in himself

i saw the saddest face
in my beer last night
a single tear slid
down one smudged eye

perhaps from maddening
stillness it cried
or maybe from the
darkened depths inside

i can't say that it was a
reflection of my own
i saw nothing familiar
to draw a connection

but i certainly felt a
connection to whatever
emotion it was that
i was drinking

i drank in as much of
that tormented
face as i could
i digested the ambiguous
melancholy

the sadness is holy
it's grounding
and i'll drink it in
until i'm floored

sloppy but i felt the need
#poem   #poetry   #sad   #drunk   #human   #drink   #face   #expression   #neorealism  

my eyes are heavy

I can't tell you why but
I miss you

there's something wrong
here, your time has
long passed

but even now I think
of taking off your gown

I feel the lace in between
my fingers
my hands against still
impossibly smooth skin
legs that never touched
the ground, legs I hoped
would lead me to forever

your curls rolling down
your shoulders, dangling
between us, connecting
our faces, the fragrance
of beauty itself clasped
between every strand
cascading from your silhouette

tenderness raining
love willing
fear subsiding
you envelope me

in this near-dream state
with the morning sun
pouring in through the
window, my soul is
still wrapped up beyond
with that transcendence
a lovely mistress

I feel you closer than I
ever have before
even when you were
close literally so

what intense longing

what a strange morning
it's been already

#poem   #poetry   #want   #sun   #past   #you   #longing   #present   #morning  

you started learning
who i really am

that's how i know i'll
never see you again

short & sweet

how fun
EJ Aghassi
EJ Aghassi
Mar 9      Mar 11

give me some sort
of interaction
I find myself now
yearning for it so

I'm lonely it's no
secret, no surprise
and certainly no
blessing, no dream
nor nightmare
unleashed upon me

I can't tell you what
that could mean

I wouldn't know what
to do with you if I had
you, sympathetic lady

I don't know much of
anything anymore, I've
yearned so fully lately

I need some feeling to
distract my mind from
the things I've seen

there is necessity
in my yearning, the
warped clarity it brings

I need the touch of
a woman

I'm tired of the scratch
of any other girl

batted eyelashes, pretty
lashes on trusting backs
it's all anticlimactic

yet I'm still so confused
by women

enigmatic woe-
catalysts

flowers bloom
in their step
cradling art
in their wake

I wish I could lie
pacified with a soft
warmth at my side

till the weight, gently
lifted from my back
sets upon my eyes

ah, love

I grow so bored with
feeling lonely

I'm so exhausted
with never knowing

lol
#love   #poetry   #hate   #art   #beauty   #you   #me   #confusion   #women   #turmoil  
 
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