michael-bingoff
American
"What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music…. And people flock around the poet and say: ‘Sing again soon’ – that is, ‘May new sufferings torment your soul but your lips be fashioned as before, for the cry would only frighten us, but the music, that is blissful." / / -- Soren Kierkegaard
Watching the dumbing down of America
Idiocracy at its finest.
Selling the world
One latte at a time.
Being guilty of the former.
I too, have fallen victim
to the carnival stupor.
"I'll buy that for a dollar"
That...I'll have to borrow.
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 12:18 PM UTC
I'm on a downward spiral
and you're the one taking me there.
I've lived a life of sin
for you to spit your self righteousness
in my face.
Someone who I let in to see me,
I have only myself to blame for that.
Every small, minuscule thing you know
is a weapon in your hand.
An occasional compliment falls on deaf ears.
I know, I've become your punching bag.
And because of my past
You use it all against me.
The only reason you keep me around
is fear of being alone and
to have something to throw your hate at.
Like an on and off switch
goes your sanity.
Taking your pills before bed
does nothing for your psyche.
I sit in silence.
Taking everything you dish out to me.
One after another.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
The sound of your voice
sends claw marks down my face.
I want to rupture my own ear drums.
No matter what you say
how you say it...
I still come back for more.
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 10:43 AM UTC
The new day brings a new headache.
Making myself forget the past has been a redundant chore.
Severing ties with those that have no part in my life is the highest priority.
Going back to helping myself,
instead of others.
Yeah, it’s the selfish thing to do.
So.
I was better that way.
I've bent over backwards for people
who take advantage or exploit the help.
You mistake my kindness for weakness.
You lose.
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 1:14 PM UTC
I need to do away with everything that hurts and scars me.
Like a catalyst, a substance that initiates or accelerates
a chemical reaction without itself being affected.
I am rebuilding the structure to the fortress around my mind.
Plain to see, but difficult to understand, I will become whole once more.
Tear pieces of me away, soon there would be nothing left.
A paper mind shreds easy. Stone does not.
I've done away with the useless things
and people which I left the door open to.
You can't break me.
Your a virus that I have the cure for.
Once again, I'm coming back to the place I need to be.
If you don't see it now..you will
to be continued..........
Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 6:57 PM UTC
stuck in my head again,
nothing seems real.
life sheds its skin
on my lazy boy chair.
flashing pictures on the tv,
pacifies the pain.
as long as I keep the thoughts at bay,
the darkness sorta goes away.
remember the insults
you spit at me?
I do.
never stopped to think,
something else could be wrong.
you always say it has to be me
so you put on your shoes,
pick up your things,
kiss my head,
and close the door on another day.
you suffer for my torment.
©2006 Dead Men Publishing
Apr 17, 2012
Apr 17, 2012 at 2:31 AM UTC
Why can't I see the world with different eyes?
I go through life with doubt and negativity.
When I show something positive, I take a beating for it.
Either I'm full of **** or I'm "too good to be true".
I just don't understand it.
It's easy for you to label me a problem without wanting to solve it.
Am I one of those poor ***** that had potential, but fell through the cracks?
What would they say in a eulogy for me?
Would there even be one?
"Shed a tear for a hapless sap who never gave anything back".
Yeah.
Seems like a thing to say about a lifetime lived in misery because no one cared enough to extend a hand.
Good for a laugh and a good time?
That's me.
Anything else?..nope.
When I'm happy, people actually go out of their way to take it away from me.
Don't I matter enough in this world to live my adult life in some kind of happiness?
Guess not.
I was told that crying is a way for the body to heal itself from grief..
Then why can't I?
It physically hurts me to cry.
Like someone taking a soup spoon and scooping my eyes out of my head.
And for the simple fact that I just can't do it.
"Cheer the **** up" they'd say.
"Stop being such an ******* I would have to hear.
If I could, I would.
I've tried.
And I keep trying.
You create the monster that I am not.
You judge me for the ****** that I can't be.
See the world through my eyes.
Take a walk in my shoes, and I promise you,
you would thank God that you are not me.
I have a purpose here.
For what, I do not know.
My true enemy is myself,
and you all know this.
So, you sit and stare, and point, and laugh.
You're **** right I'm the bad seed.
I should have been the abortion.
©2006 Dead Men Publishing
Apr 17, 2012
Apr 17, 2012 at 2:21 AM UTC
I touched your face.
Caressed it, oh so gently.
Shock waves ran from my
fingertips straight to my heart.
God! I loved the way
you closed your eyes,
opened them slowly with
admiration in them.
Then you'd smile and
my heart would skip and jump.
We'd rest our heads on each other,
forehead to forehead.
Just sitting there, silent.
As one.
Jan 19, 2012
Jan 19, 2012 at 12:39 PM UTC
The amphetamines are at
an all time high.
The excuses stay the same.
I worry that it's too much,
she assures me that its not enough.
I see the world around her spinning
slowly out of control.
She is immune to it.
If I voice an opinion,
the excuses shoot me down.
If I stay silent,
my morals and experience
make me feel unsettled.
I tell her that they make her
cold and distant.
She refuses to see it.
I look into her face and
it is blank.
Too lost in a thought.
Focused on that single issue,
to not see it.
I have to keep going with her,
abandonment is not an option.
I used to be the indulgent one,
now I see it all with different eyes.
I know what’s next.
But she won't let me in.
Oct 10, 2011
Oct 10, 2011 at 10:27 PM UTC
I've ripped the threads
from my half stitched heart,
with my teeth!
Clawing from the outside in.
I destroyed it,
before you did.
I set light to my soul.
I poured the gasoline,
lit the match, and
burned it before you did.
I ripped my tongue out
and nailed it to my desk,
before you had a chance to
say the things that would only
force my searing words.
I plucked my eyes from my head
before you had the chance to.
Seeing your crooked smile would
only cause more pain.
I broke my hands to keep from
clinching them in fits of rage.
I can't slit my own throat,
so I leave that one for you.
Oct 10, 2011
Oct 10, 2011 at 10:23 PM UTC
Lost your perfect life,
no more little wife
left behind a part of you,
for somebody else, new.
I sat back and had to laugh,
and watch you fall flat on your ***
can't seem to find what you need,
one more bed for you to feed.
ain't no shame in your game,
loneliness is what you claim.
empty promises help you through,
another emotion I wasted on you.
smiles, winks, and nods
gave way to a cheap facade.
So live your life in a lie,
another bed to hop, why not try?
Your cheapness sickens me
to the boiling point of agony.
I tried to ***** the feeling out
Only to be shown a different route.
Take your poison, which ever suits,
I'll have the boot mark on my *** for proof.
Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 3:36 PM UTC