I closed my eyes for a moment,
the person who I was
no longer knows who I am.
soaring through the cosmos of my thoughts
memories which I can't remember
drown in a sea of embers
the simplicity of being
entangled in the finer nuances of be
something you dream of
someone you think of
it's never enough
I closed my eyes for a moment,
bits of whatever I define as poetry
turned into an incoherent mumble.
duality
dichotomy
searching
meaning between the lines
time flies
in 2699 days from now
i'll be laughing
joyously
what a cruel joke
thinking time will fix
anything
we become better
at forgetting
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 11:56 AM UTC
What good is time
that never stops its flow
if I'm consuming mine
laboring to pay the toll
to shadows I've never seen,
instead of building the Sun
to brighten your darkest of days.
What good are the vibrations of the Universe
pouring rhythmically through this verse
when the sound of your being
is a Universe on its own.
What good are words
that create a myriad of worlds
if they fail to explain
what you mean to me, up here
in the labyrinth of my brain.
Darling,
Should I ever forget the colours of my soul
and you happen to remember them;
Let me flow, bask for a little while
in your glow.
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 6:33 PM UTC
The World lays its exaggerated, broken illusions of who I'm supposed to be
on the weary waves of my brain. I find myself torn between
my superfluous existence and the struggle of a mind craving tranquility.
The World lifted the veil and I can see the nightmare
of what we subjectively define as reality being poured into glasses,
we drink it to quench our thirst, polluting the magnanimous beauty
of our holy souls.
The World whispers its ***** secrets into me,
I no longer see what I want to see,
instead I float with the current, swept with the rest of similarly confused souls,
ready to merge into the sea of Self Loathing and Misery.
The World no longer paints my dreams in colours, they are no longer relevant,
everything is black and white just to further spite my confusion.
Dichotomy is the only answer
to the myriad of questions flooding my curiosity.
The World tells me I'm worthless and I am.
I accept your gentle embrace,
I revel in my own meaninglessness, a nobody screaming to no one.
I will never amount to anything and my life is no more
than a grain of sand in your vast desert.
The World tells me I no longer matter, I don't.
My gray matter is only a chunk of rotting flesh waiting
to be embraced by your mercy, death.
Even these abstract ideas, thrown around in filigree don't matter,
after all they only perpetuate the illusion of me.
The World I am no longer myself and I believe it.
I am the product of your words, the spitting image of your broken physique,
whenever I look in the mirror I see you.
None of these thoughts are mine, they're all yours, beaten into me
over a century, thousands of years of evolution and here I stand
complete in your image.
The World tells me to get perspective so I do.
I see myself as a caricature, hunched over these blank pages
pretending I know what I'm writing about.
A heavy sigh leaves my body and I can't help but laugh at my own ridiculous, petty self.
I take a step further back and I watch myself watching myself,
One idiot looking at the first one, laughing. I turn my head and there is an infinity
of 'myself'', all of them cracking up.
It's pathetic because I am the one
drowning in my own mediocrity
while I find myself laughing to infinity.
Perspective my ***
Hey World, I'm writing this super poem for you.
I'm writing this super poem with my life, everyday when I go to work
and 'pick' my dreams away.
I'm writing this super poem with an exaggerated sense of importance
because you are all so important to me.
I'm writing this super poem with super ink and super time because
clearly, absolutely, surely, convincingly I spend every nano second
worshiping your infinite grace and surreal qualities.
I'm writing this poem with super confusion because the fusion
of your muse with my poetics can only scramble together
stubs of rhyme and rhythm, repetition comes naturally
when you teach me that empathy means sympathy for the Machine.
I'm writing this super poem to praise your ultimate super creation, the Machine.
Machine, whose arms are molded to lovingly wrap themselves around me.
The right arm, religion and school strips me bare until I'm left servient,
ready to praise the left one, politics and consumerism.
Machine, whose eyes are never closed, gaze into the vastness of our beings
and swallow the forests of our souls. They are always on the look for more,
always vigilant and never ever ever satisfied.
Machine, whose arteries are the railroads, roads,
infested with locomotives, cars speeding towards their own meaningless end,
blowing and honking their horns
for they can't see through the thick veil of oozing smog.
Machine, whose veins are the internet, complex networks of web
trapping millions of disillusioned shards as they desperately try
to define their own humanity.
Machine, whose brain is capital. The almighty dollar, euro, pound, yen, ruble,
all rushing towards banks to **** sweat, *** ******
birthing interest, famine, debt and helplessness.
Machine, whose soul is war, greedily consuming lives
to satisfy the eyes, arteries, veins and the brain.
It's all in vain when death becomes a statistician, tragedy is numbed by the number
and the never ending slumber continues.
Machine, whose everything became my everything,
I can only find myself at ease when I please
with the entirety of my being.
I'm writing this super poem under the shades of a beat generation
because I find it resonates well with my vibrations
and I'm crawling, crawling, crawling towards your acceptance,
clawing, clawing, clawing through everything I am.
Hey World, I'm writing this super poem because I am tired,
beaten, broken by the endless charades you create
while I try to melt into the Sun.
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 7:12 AM UTC
Words: different, hooves, logic, endless, wrong, conscious, rare, cold, sad, mystical
The Mystical Unicorn Speaks
'Different hooves leave different prints
sometimes even we have to change shoes!
Now, don't get me wrong
I'm not here to change your perception,
I know I can't argue with your strong
and undeniable logic.
I'm just a regular unicorn
whom caught a cold, surely
I must be growing old!
Don't be sad, neither of us
take a conscious decision to do so
Just hop on my back and let's ride
the endless rainbow, show the world
we take pride in our rare ability
to escape the disability of a mind
tethered to reality.'
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 8:11 PM UTC
Words: rust, viral, blackout, hunchback, autopsy, bases, aftertaste, gurgle, bring
Blackout
The bases of my thoughts rust
under the blessing of the muse.
As I inhale particles of cosmic dust
the urge to use
the narcotic come to be known as her skin
grows stronger, inviting me to perform
the autopsy of these broken syllables.
'Like the hunchback of Notre Dame
I'm pulling all the ropes at your temple
yet there's no sound to trample
the aftertaste of your inspiration.
All I'm left to do is gurgle
with some random letters,
Spit out the remains
and as I watch them evaporate
under the warmth of your dry Sun
I can only hope my words go viral
helping me escape the never ending spiral
of emotions you always bring.
Surround me in shades of white
shine some of your light
Wake me up from my state of black,
I'll never look back
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 8:11 PM UTC
Words: bump, stone, address, captivity, homeless, costumed, bachelor, flood, crawl, conflict
The bachelor costumed as a clown
keeps on singing with a frown:
'A mind in captivity
will never come to know how stone
fades in the glow of time
oh baby you'll always be mine.
Even if I have to crawl towards your smile
baby I'll love you for more than a while
Even if the great flood comes again
baby I'll be sure to remind you then
How I'm the only man whom loves you
baby it's true, oh baby it's true
Should I end up homeless
or singing alone in the rain, hopeless
I'll think of you in a dress, address
the world my love for you
Oh baby, you know it to be true
Should I bump into conflict as I stand
before the world confessing my addiction of you
I'll take all the pain as a man
baby I know I'm plain yet I feel
your love will always flow through my veins
baby if you hold the reins
I'll pull your carriage to the ends of time
Oh baby, please be mine.'
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 8:10 PM UTC
Relax,
Get in the mood.
Elevate your state of being
we're about to create
a bond that can't be broken
as your mind creates sense
of all these words that are seen
but never spoken.
Let us melt our beings into complete darkness
and live a thousand lives as criminals
whom refuse the rule of the machine,
You and I, we've always been
doomed to be forgotten.
Hear me when I say
it does not matter
whether it's black or white
What we hold between us
is carried on a breeze throughout the night
more so, beyond the dawn of a new day
piercing into a reality
that is the bane of existence.
Come,
Let's dissipate into a thousand colours
and paint over the gray essences
of all those similarly broken souls
whom never really had a clear view
of their goals.
Shall we
Cast aside the boulders we carry,
witness the marriage of mind and matter
until there's nothing left of us
merely a splatter
hidden somewhere, nearly forgotten
in the consciousness of strangers
building their dreams.
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 8:04 AM UTC
As if the eternal flow
that stops for no one
can be fragmented into cycles.
All these seconds
minutes, hours, years
wasted on trying to understand
paint nothing but scars
that do not blend
in our modern perception.
As if all these what if's
flying around in my veins
somehow make me wiser.
When reality knocks on the door
I'll kindly turn the other way
Imagining the dawn of a new day.
In conclusion, here's to no resolution
god help me, god help us all
as we slowly crawl, about to fall
into the vast nothingness of time.
'How delightfully dark
surely this new approach
will ignite the spark
and the fire will consume
the roach eating away
at your brain
surely you haven't gone insane.'
'Surely.'
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 7:59 AM UTC
I wish I could sit on the edge of the Sun
Weave some rays together and cover you
With a blanket of light
So you wouldn't feel the need
To wrap yourself in darkness
I wish I could melt these words
Into a painting which ignites your smile
If not for an eternity then just a little while
You and me both know that the glow
Of tiny sparks is much more mesmerizing
Than the all consuming fire of sadness
When you look into my eyes
See past the shallow curtain
Formed by mundane thoughts
Know that the bright light
Shines for you
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 8:29 PM UTC
they say greatness can't be found
if you're less than a slave bound
down with some imaginary tether
formed from the Great Lies
of our blessed Modern Times
to that I say **** you
maybe I enjoy being a slave
trying to relive old ways of life
lived by primitive men in a cave
surrounded by danger and strife
the pen starts to write
I refuse to be gentle and kind
to offer you peace of mind
to keep pretending I'm blind
to graciously bow down
to be the royal clown
as it is so it is written
smitten with the same words
over and over again
**** being published
**** your fame
**** your image of a tame
kind eyed romantic
dreaming of a better world
I'm a savage and I want to ravage
the sublime thighs of Lady Time
if immortality can't be bought achieved
I'll just climb to the top
and **** down the head of Chronos
if I end up being swallowed
by his gigantic mouth
I'll carve my way out
through his stomach using sharp words
and badly written rhymes
to hell with your preconceived notions
on how to feel emotions
on how to live
on how to dream
I'll love somebody with all my hate
I'll twist the arms of fate
I'll be early by arriving late
I'll eat soup as I would eat cake
to Heaven with your dreams
it seems you're already there
judging humans below
to Nirvana with your spirituality
being enlightened and one with all
as you ascend from the eternal descent
to the Bank with all your riches
and material possessions so you can
have more and more and MORE
it's a bit confusing I find it amusing
that I wish you all the well
while imagining you in a bottomless well
it's a bit confusing I find it amusing
how I keep abusing your sense of calm
with stick figures drawn with letters
it's a bit confusing I find it amusing
how I wish you only good
then again I want to say **** you
**** it **** your acceptance
I don't need your understanding
or sympathy
or do I?
confused by my own words
****
whatever mate' I'll go and **********
********* some poems
as I drown in my perpetual shade of blue
being depressed oppressed
by my weakness
here's to being modern **** the World
make it your ***** pillage plunder
**** on the seventh wonder
get ****** be hissed by old hags
wearing old rags
dreaming of smoking ****
wishing to be young and wild again
here's to the World burning in fire
a myriad of Nero's hysterically laughing
as they watch
inhaling the fumes of their own insanity
here's to ******* till' you sweat
uh huh you like that don't you
here's to **** **** and ***
here's to us bearers of *****
aimlessly wandering from hole to hole
trying to fill the emptiness of our soul
with cheap beer bad ****
consequently conversations about philosophy
that **** the duality of our being
into a metamorphosis truly worth seeing
we're all moths flickering around some light
bright futures waiting to be lit
and pass down wisdom to future generations
here's to us whom now and then
see beyond the ****** veil of reality
and paint obscure dreams
onto the mind of strangers
here's to us fake poets ignoring
the visions dreamt by the Machine
showed down our throats since we're born
torn between consuming
and always wanting more
here's to us all humans on a tiny planet
trying to figure out where we belong
as we reach for stars
our scars become insignificant and petty
our sorrows and woes are obsolete
as we slowly slide down on the complete
beauty of Time
here's to us all
whom in our trifle existence
connect to each other
love hate and feel each other
whom live each moment as it's the last
trying to escape shadows cast by the past
whom burn brighter than the Sun
and we run arms flailing trying to fly
ending up sailing on the ugly sea
of a minimum wage dream
as it is so it is written
smitten with repetition
I don't want any recognition
my words have already taken me
far beyond the limits of sanity
thanks for taking your time
to embrace these few words of mine
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC