i feel a little piece
of the mother of all creation
course through me
she is an angel of a new age
a feminist of the feminine persuasion
a man and a woman
she bleeds passion
and breaths fire
she is in me
she is we
the freedom of the vagina
the freedom of compassion
don't be afraid to preach like a preacher
the pianonic climax is soon
beethoven must rest
mozart must go
the keys must stop
the waltz which your words flow
bake into a cake
the killing of the self
to once again be reborn into a new generation
It is the same thing that we are told over and over
In all our classes, all our days
For one hundred and eighty days on end.
In math we are told about the Pythagorean theorem and Pathetic Fallacy~~
But some of us still do not know the value of "X".
It is after parents get called from teachers saying that their child is:
doesn't do the proper thing
And that their child, who is brilliant, cannot be in a Level One class.
We all have different abilities and thought processes.
Why is it that a class full of individuals is tested by all of the same means?
Exams are the way society tells you your worth.
But it is the same society that:
says abortion is wrong but then looks down on teenage parents
promotes natural beauty but has models flushed with makeup, hair extentions, false lashes, and nails
shows slender people for their weight loss commercial that look like an hour glass already
has pastors that preach charity but own jets and sports cars
has Imams who preach against greed but are all fat
has parents who want their child to get a good education to get a good paying job but hate how rich the neighbors are
is run by governments that preach peace but endorse war
Has colleges who want smarter kids but increase the tuition
What does it mean to "make the mark?"
to the kids who study hard and barely miss the target
to the kids that know what it feels like to be worth that D or that A when a teacher hands back a test
to the kids who are never good enough in their English teacher's eyes
to the kids whose writing is missing key literary techniques or was too informal to be understood
What does it mean to "make the mark?"
to the math teacher who pesters you about trying harder when you can't tell them "X" but can tell them the date of any war
to the science teacher who tells you to know the periodic table and yells in distress of their 'worst student'
We're told everything that we learn we'll use the information again but never do when we walk out the door.
They try to prepaid you for the world, but they don't prepair you for life.
always being the second best
not getting the scholarship that you needed to go to college
not getting the solo on your last concert night.
not being able to make the mark
What does it mean to "make the mark?"
(When I was a kid)
They taught me how to
I guess they knew how
Cruel (life) is going
When I was a kid
(They all said) it (will get
The war will one day
When I was a kid
They taught me the art
(I am not a kid anymore),
But all the priest preaches I
Heard when I was a kid, are
Now making sense.
If you preach hate,
Those words are instantly
Carved in the heart.
Don’t do that.
If you preach love,
(Say it once again), it does
Not break through instantly.
Say it with confidence,
(Make me believe).
The world (may be) broken,
But (hope is) not (crazy.)
You have to read the poem the first time as a whole. Then read only the brackets.
First time writing in this style. It should also work if you read the poem without the brackets, but I'm not that good. I tried.
Last two lines are a from a quote by John Green.
The tyranny you hide.
Your fashion sense and flair,
That bracelet that you wear.
slipping along my waist.
Vanilla blooms and smoke.
Reach to my back,
Look at me,
You're "fourteen" steps ahead,
I'm "twenty" back instead.
My mind grows thoughts,
Thoughts of you,
and thoughts of sin
Bits of blond here and there,
Beauty marks everywhere..
I catch up.
Do you feel it?
My body aches,
Sheets of white,
A war; the love we are making.
A few lustful silent breaths.
My long blue nights
Now I'm only left
with a trace,
of a four stroke letterface.
They're everywhere I go:
"Gush", "star", and "no"
Words that repeat,
for all mankind
I commit less,
I'm left behind.
I was just a new hunt.
Mere letters made me cave.
Mere letters can't define.
I'm more than an "aging wine".
and pouring waterfalls of speech.
Unstable souls should not preach.
Confusion splashed across the wall
Confusion took its toll.
And now after all,
It's either a fall,
Or a continuous reach.
Does nothing matter?
Is matter nothing but dancing shattered galaxies pushing and shoving each other?
And on Earth, is it worth thinking?
That I'm just a piece of eternal dirt thinking that I'm just a piece of dirt thinking?
We're all just stars, tasting humanity for an instant.
In all its fallacies, we're systems of suns that love murder without resistance.
With the assistance of Christian values and armed pistols.
Harmful as ignorance is blissful, we're still missing the deal.
We're still pissing away the real position to feel. We're still wishing down the same ol' wishing wells
and hoping to Christ they're real.
Worse than guns, it's the waste of freedom -- It's unequal -- to kill the hungry from a distance is still evil.
I fly atomically and everything else is informal.
What's normal? Where's God when things get so awful?
He's epidermal - like an antigermal lotion. A magic potion to nurture the thought that we're important.
We're all just stars, answering a call to be Human.
Let the cold bars that hold the others down remain open till my life is dormant.
And our heads are still cluttered and cloth covered.
Filled with an age-old confusion straight from ol' Mohammed's cupboard.
They fool us with cooked messages from book passages that preach love.
Scare us into being apparatuses of a God above.
That's why society is shattered. It's what's wrong with the world.
The perennial infancy of thought that's forced unto our boys and girls.
Such unclarity, that's baked into our childrens' recipe. It's insanity to think that we don't just turn back into energy.
I'm not religiously inspired to forgive,
nor have the insidious desire to live to inspire religious permittance.
I prefer a future purpose undiscovered.
A death dimension still covered from religions' crazy buffer.
Today, I’m sharpening arrows
to aim them at
politicians with snouts in the trough,
clerics who preach peace for themselves
but hatred about others,
academics who promote freedom of speech
but run a Gulag Archipelago
for those who don’t follow their own ideas
or buy their textbooks,
celebrities in general,
people who don’t smile,
people who aren’t nice,
(why are they here?)
fanatics, tyrants and power mongers,
(there are a humungous lot of these)
(they wouldn’t be boring
if they could just try to engage a little more)
and those who block supermarket isles
with their trolleys while they stop and gossip.
There. That’ll keep me busy.
I’d really like to use their precious butts
for target practice
to puncture their pretensions,
unless they sincerely promise
to lighten the fuck up
and be more considerate
and try to love a whole lot more.
Freedom skirts on a flat plane, a
rubber-winged rubber soul.
plastic is not earth,
man not nature.
Teens preach change in termly assessments.
My hand is false.
Water wisps along 50's relics
sunk into social ethics:
dry crown, hollow skin,
substance out of stock:
I'm just like everyone else.
I am Echo, talk is not manifestly sound.
Buoys of boys, chained to a femme fatale.
Here I am and will be tomorrow.
And the next,
Decomposing inside my coffin
my bones, particles, organic matter
begin to separate
in a futile attempt
to save the only aspect of life
worth dying for
Since when was it my
Responsibility to clean up
your bloody remains?
This is your war and
I am (unfortunately)
There are a set of standard rules
We must obey
And why preach individuality
When you won’t let me be myself,
When I can not break your
You have bounded me to
Twisted staples- lined us all up
To shoot us in the god damn head
And those precious buildings
Slabs and poles and rusted metal
Our savored gems and beauties
are the modern day concentration camps
which we built ourselves
prisoners to a schizophrenic institution
but we are too sick
too far gone
not only the prisoners
but the guards too.
And how can I escape when
Everyplace on Earth is fighting
Down this path of self
Destructive legal freedom
You do not own me
Don’t tell me I am free
And expect me to bow at your
Feet in praise
Just by you deeming me free
Means it is your decision to choose
I am free merely because
I am human
Spit in the face of those who
You can not
Sculpt your life,
They are not you.
And why should I feel obligated
To obey your laws
Social constructs to keep
The caged animals inside
I am not your fucking animal
Your sheep to herd
Everyone believes we have
Modernized our world
Nothing can hold us back!
Keeping society in order
With cops and a loaded
Pistols, it’s the same
Thing as priests
And wooden crosses.
We have gone nowhere
In the past hundreds of years
Just changed the scenery
Changed the game pieces
We cannot trust the management
Of our lives to anyone but
Yet, why would you even want to?
The state is our new religion
Money is our Yaweh
Sacrifice our own lives
To please the Gods
And I guess if we are talking
In terms of materialistic faith
Then I am a fucking atheist
Do not jam your religion down my
Is all you have ever given me.
Not a life worth living.
Please do not westernize,
Can’t you see it is not working?
Painting shadows on rocks,
The hazy glow from the stars,
Moon, and heavens
And I think the most brilliant
But humbling fact
Is that the world will continue
On without us.
Quite frankly, better
I am decomposing in my coffin.
Dissolving on my own terms.
The only thing worth living for,
Is the freedom of your
Fighting for liberation
From these death camps,
Hollow graves we call humans.
everything has hardened-
And the brush strokes of concrete
Metal animals screeching,
The glow of synthetic light,
Will never compare to the real thing.
Engaged in constant battle with me.
Working hard to practice the preach.
To do good or destruct?
Constrained time in a system corrupt.
Craving to grow tall and not fall.
Puzzled when life seems not to move at all.
The self awareness is key.
Held responsible because the lost one is me.
We all feel insecure now and then,
even without infidelity lurking in the background.
We don't deal with bullshit
but some people are just bullshitting in the background
People wear masks on standby, maximizing opportunities.
Just like crows waiting for the right time,
to attack and slip between lapses,
lapses you and I just don't mind.
I personally feel bad dealing with these thugs,
as if I have nothing against them,
I'm just having a hard time to hide and let them pass through
I'm always a giver in this game.
Forgive me if I'm this cold,
I'm a first timer to live in this house of odds.
I preach art and believer of reality
and I cannot easily hide my thoughts
Jealousy stings and hurt sometimes
and You have nothing to prove to me.
it is just the natural outside forces
that is is getting into my nerves, It kills me.