samir - Hello Poetry

My neck broken Forehead kisses the back of my hand as my stature silhouettes "The Thinker" This is not for everyone. No one else would be as: Courageous as... Distraught as... Pathetic as... Insignificant. The end result of the realization that you are one of the ones who tried but missed your shot- the timing didn't work out right... you are too late. Working hard now will only give you a sense of satisfaction, accomplishment, completion Yet it still stands Your tree bears no fruit. The longest sigh The laziest, deepest, dragging of steps through mud. You will never be... Begrudgingly. Alternating between facing the inevitable stuck-still, accompanied by the hair of doubt.. The hair of doubt, Contrasting The impossibility you cling to.. Contradicting the probable. ...all the while weathering under an umbrella of uncertainty. A knot.

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Nov 20, 2015

Nov 20, 2015 at 12:08 PM UTC

Not for everyone

My neck broken Forehead kisses the back of my hand as my stature silhouettes "The Thinker" This is not for everyone. No one else would be as: Courageous as... Distraught as... Pathetic as... Insignificant. The end result of the realization that you are one of the ones who tried but missed your shot- the timing didn't work out right... you are too late. Working hard now will only give you a sense of satisfaction, accomplishment, completion Yet it still stands Your tree bears no fruit. The longest sigh The laziest, deepest, dragging of steps through mud. You will never be... Begrudgingly. Alternating between facing the inevitable stuck-still, accompanied by the hair of doubt.. The hair of doubt, Contrasting The impossibility you cling to.. Contradicting the probable. ...all the while weathering under an umbrella of uncertainty. A knot.

29

...or at least being under the naive guise of youth, tainted with the dementia of infatuation What if I really believed you were my one and only? What if my love for you is as real as it ever was? I still make love to you every night Even though you left me Alone I stoke the fire... Together we shall burn- Perpetually. I let you live here rent free; My beauty, My lessee, & naturally I The lessor. You spite me. I allow you to Every night is that same day That same fight It blurs a little bit more with every play Every night I go to sleep in that day. Every night I relish in the fact that... As insignificant as it may seem I'm the one who had the control that day Every night I get to relive that moment. Every night you are forced to see it my way. Every night you are to face the me you tried to avoid so desperately. Every night you are made to face the love you neglected so miserably and I remember every single detail. Every excruciating detail of your struggle, to the breakdown, and finally acceptance of what you had comin to you; my love. I ***** you that night. I raptured you that night and I relive it as I jack off to the idea of spiting you and you just took it and let it happen because you knew you were finally coming clean about who you really were and how it made no difference what happened to you one way or another... I remember my being a romantic Every single night before I go to bed I still love you to this day you see... I said it back then and it still holds true. I remember my being a romantic- BUT NOT AS MUCH AS I REMEMBER ******* YOU!

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Nov 20, 2015

Nov 20, 2015 at 4:25 AM UTC

I remember my being a romantic

...or at least being under the naive guise of youth, tainted with the dementia of infatuation What if I really believed you were my one and only? What if my love for you is as real as it ever was? I still make love to you every night Even though you left me Alone I stoke the fire... Together we shall burn- Perpetually. I let you live here rent free; My beauty, My lessee, & naturally I The lessor. You spite me. I allow you to Every night is that same day That same fight It blurs a little bit more with every play Every night I go to sleep in that day. Every night I relish in the fact that... As insignificant as it may seem I'm the one who had the control that day Every night I get to relive that moment. Every night you are forced to see it my way. Every night you are to face the me you tried to avoid so desperately. Every night you are made to face the love you neglected so miserably and I remember every single detail. Every excruciating detail of your struggle, to the breakdown, and finally acceptance of what you had comin to you; my love. I ***** you that night. I raptured you that night and I relive it as I jack off to the idea of spiting you and you just took it and let it happen because you knew you were finally coming clean about who you really were and how it made no difference what happened to you one way or another... I remember my being a romantic Every single night before I go to bed I still love you to this day you see... I said it back then and it still holds true. I remember my being a romantic- BUT NOT AS MUCH AS I REMEMBER ******* YOU!

35

For dead is where I begin, Indebted. & that is where I’ll stay, Despite the way I feel today Despite my tiresome aversions I will hang myself before the opportunity for any detour Deter… I will deter myself. I will prove to myself, once again, That I, am the master of my demise The rue in ruin My own failure and then… I’ll lay my head to rest. For tomorrow is over. A new beginning in which to distract away from a new To make the same mistakes I’ve grown so familiar to… To a broken neck, one in which reflects my irregularity To walk with my head down… Past the bridge of contemplation, contemplating- suicide. Despite refrain, To spite restraint To the end. & never make it- to the end, My End. I shall be received

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Aug 29, 2014

Aug 29, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC

The Prodigiousness of Youth, the Apathy of Existence

For dead is where I begin, Indebted. & that is where I’ll stay, Despite the way I feel today Despite my tiresome aversions I will hang myself before the opportunity for any detour Deter… I will deter myself. I will prove to myself, once again, That I, am the master of my demise The rue in ruin My own failure and then… I’ll lay my head to rest. For tomorrow is over. A new beginning in which to distract away from a new To make the same mistakes I’ve grown so familiar to… To a broken neck, one in which reflects my irregularity To walk with my head down… Past the bridge of contemplation, contemplating- suicide. Despite refrain, To spite restraint To the end. & never make it- to the end, My End. I shall be received

27

JUDGE ME http://hellopoetry.com/poem/bpd-artistry/ http://hellopoetry.com/poem/polygonal-me/ ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- REACHING OUT http://hellopoetry.com/poem/sermon-monsieur-1/ http://hellopoetry.com/poem/luscious/ http://hellopoetry.com/poem/they-really-should-stop-saying/ ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- DARK http://hellopoetry.com/poem/i-wrote-this-a-while-back-so-assume-that-it-no-longer-applies-currently/ http://hellopoetry.com/poem/hostage-opposite-an-albatross/ http://hellopoetry.com/poem/i-wish-i-had-something-good-to-write-of/ ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- NEVER MIND LOVE http://hellopoetry.com/poem/justanotherthrowaway/ http://hellopoetry.com/poem/tempt/ http://hellopoetry.com/poem/reorganizing-priorities-1/ ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- X http://hellopoetry.com/poem/white-room-syndrome-1/ http://hellopoetry.com/poem/death-of-my-dreaming/ http://hellopoetry.com/poem/simply-jest/

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Feb 7, 2014

Feb 7, 2014 at 9:43 PM UTC

♫○•◙◘☺♦♣♠♥♀♂☼☻☺☼♂♀ ♥♠♣♦☻ ◘◙•○♫

23

that beauty's only skin deep... so while one little girl's crying has now stopped it has transferred to the one with acne beneath her? If words have such strength then why have we attached such a strong word and then stapled, in such a careless way? We have hurt the feelings of the ugly people as if there exists such a thing we have scarred so many children's inner beauty What about the girl who wants to be a model so bad she based her personality off of it her skin is literally all she has and we have now made her to think that she is unwanted and has nothing but her skin deep beauty so she needs a man who understands her pain, a man of the same skin... surely only he could know her pain cut through all this vain and all is lost because men and women are not one in the same especially nowadays Far worst the girl who is in between feeling distraught over her ugly friends and trying to save them meanwhile being jealous over her superficial ones who "stick" together While the ugly find each other and the beautiful set a bad example perpetually... I look for the girl named compromise she knows the struggles of which I surmise and maybe, though society seems to bind us fate will come along and find us and remind us that beauty is not deep as the skin... It is as deep as the soul within.

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Jan 23, 2013

Jan 23, 2013 at 2:27 AM UTC

They really should stop saying

that beauty's only skin deep... so while one little girl's crying has now stopped it has transferred to the one with acne beneath her? If words have such strength then why have we attached such a strong word and then stapled, in such a careless way? We have hurt the feelings of the ugly people as if there exists such a thing we have scarred so many children's inner beauty What about the girl who wants to be a model so bad she based her personality off of it her skin is literally all she has and we have now made her to think that she is unwanted and has nothing but her skin deep beauty so she needs a man who understands her pain, a man of the same skin... surely only he could know her pain cut through all this vain and all is lost because men and women are not one in the same especially nowadays Far worst the girl who is in between feeling distraught over her ugly friends and trying to save them meanwhile being jealous over her superficial ones who "stick" together While the ugly find each other and the beautiful set a bad example perpetually... I look for the girl named compromise she knows the struggles of which I surmise and maybe, though society seems to bind us fate will come along and find us and remind us that beauty is not deep as the skin... It is as deep as the soul within.

29

These down times are what really make a person... I will put an end to this... somethings gotta give... victim of circumstance and while I'd stay and keep trying... you were not there to console my sighing so it's better I go, no time for crying and change your mind the same as your lying. Well honestly now, Is it not apparent that we over-use the poor man idiom? We are torturing our own kind Human contact is for the rich and as long as I am in text I will be only worth as much as my words are spent only worth as much as my discouraged intellect only worth as much as the poor man's breath who was never given a chance to progress and it was the very same intellect that caused his distress and so he smoked himself to death.

0

Jan 23, 2013

Jan 23, 2013 at 1:09 AM UTC

If you are reading this I have buried myself alive in my head...

These down times are what really make a person... I will put an end to this... somethings gotta give... victim of circumstance and while I'd stay and keep trying... you were not there to console my sighing so it's better I go, no time for crying and change your mind the same as your lying. Well honestly now, Is it not apparent that we over-use the poor man idiom? We are torturing our own kind Human contact is for the rich and as long as I am in text I will be only worth as much as my words are spent only worth as much as my discouraged intellect only worth as much as the poor man's breath who was never given a chance to progress and it was the very same intellect that caused his distress and so he smoked himself to death.

17

I woke up cold in a dark house, not a home I woke up in a cold sweat all alone. I don’t know why I even woke up at all… Most of the time I don’t I have nothing ahead of me Nothing to look forward to that is It would be a break if I had solely nothing ahead of me But of course I am contained Repressed, oppressed, stressed, depressed Surely I am confined And sometimes I die Upon waking up again I choose to sit up in my bed in the dark And within the black it is just my consciousness and my thoughts My existence, reflective of the black, becomes one with the absence of light Sometimes I sleep and my brain continues thinking in my head Only to think about emotion whose practical use is now dead Even if I had left It was through the light of day that I had slept Even if I had left There would be nothing that can quell the aches in my chest This house took my everything I had ever felt These sheets, I acuse them of theft Even if I had left I would never part from the bed.

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Jan 19, 2013

Jan 19, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC

Death of My Dreaming

I woke up cold in a dark house, not a home I woke up in a cold sweat all alone. I don’t know why I even woke up at all… Most of the time I don’t I have nothing ahead of me Nothing to look forward to that is It would be a break if I had solely nothing ahead of me But of course I am contained Repressed, oppressed, stressed, depressed Surely I am confined And sometimes I die Upon waking up again I choose to sit up in my bed in the dark And within the black it is just my consciousness and my thoughts My existence, reflective of the black, becomes one with the absence of light Sometimes I sleep and my brain continues thinking in my head Only to think about emotion whose practical use is now dead Even if I had left It was through the light of day that I had slept Even if I had left There would be nothing that can quell the aches in my chest This house took my everything I had ever felt These sheets, I acuse them of theft Even if I had left I would never part from the bed.

24

***** Jersey You are unworthy From the infamous Jersey shore To the depths of Bergen county You hound me Thank god sandy got rid of that cesspool by the way Anyone ever hear of Lodi? No?, ok... Moving on, New Jersey, the ideal place for parents who have small children Once they are teenagers They will rip their parents apart for condemning them to a suburban hellhole For sentencing them to an infernal purgatory, where if you have no car, you are stuck at home, and unless you walk to a bus stop and take the bus somewhere else, you have no job So you find your best friend... Marijuana And then you start selling it and you now have a job Drug dealer. Find a pill counter who works at Walgreens pharmacy and you have now expanded your market Oh ***** Jerz, for grey-ish skies For sewage waves of stain, for unemployed and worker slaves, all for minimum wage.

0

Dec 10, 2012

Dec 10, 2012 at 10:15 AM UTC

***** Jersey

***** Jersey You are unworthy From the infamous Jersey shore To the depths of Bergen county You hound me Thank god sandy got rid of that cesspool by the way Anyone ever hear of Lodi? No?, ok... Moving on, New Jersey, the ideal place for parents who have small children Once they are teenagers They will rip their parents apart for condemning them to a suburban hellhole For sentencing them to an infernal purgatory, where if you have no car, you are stuck at home, and unless you walk to a bus stop and take the bus somewhere else, you have no job So you find your best friend... Marijuana And then you start selling it and you now have a job Drug dealer. Find a pill counter who works at Walgreens pharmacy and you have now expanded your market Oh ***** Jerz, for grey-ish skies For sewage waves of stain, for unemployed and worker slaves, all for minimum wage.

22

Maybe it was my ADHD or my Bipolar or both, but as a child I would put in my headphones and just pretend I’m living… this is what I did for fun, I would put my headphones on over my ears and wear a beanie to keep them from falling off. I would put on something with sickk drums and a kick *** guitar, grab my skateboard and push wood. Synchronized with the music of course, this was more convincing to me that I was not in my life, but that I was in this fictional reality. This reality didn’t even need to be better, it just needed to be not my life; but it always was, better that is. If I didn’t have my skateboard I would interpret the song and either skip to it, walk rhythmically to it, or rock out somewhere; it depended on the song really. This was my first drug and I could not understand why nobody else wanted to live the way I was living… the only thing I wished different is for the music to play out loud and not only in my head as this tended to make me feel self-conscious or awkward in the supermarket or at public places in general. I needed spectacular lenses nearing my middle school days due to my incessantly close music video watching. I needed to feel as if I were there with them so I would sit right in front of the TV set. I even went as far as to grow my hair out and part it evenly to both sides so as to black out my peripheral vision. I consumed music and art that went along with it as if I were a ****** I truly believed the singers in the videos were where I wanted to be, they understood me, their words taught me the truth, their music lifted my spirits, their presence kept me company, kept me sane. They taught me everything my parents should have. They were my angels, my saviors. They taught me about freedom and expression. I began writing, singing, acting, dancing, philosophizing, creating art, creating art through life. Life became a music video, and I became the voice, my emotions the music, my brain the lyrics, my character a poet, personifying sacrifice. I couldn’t understand why everyone else was so BORING! Why they didn’t see me there skipping down the street and run to catch up with me and say, “hey, what are you doing?” … or something along those lines. I didn’t understand why I was alone still in this new world. Nowadays I find myself in front of a computer screen, playing guitar stationary. Waiting. Working. Waiting... and Working… And I will be there one day… I will join them all… I will be there with them GOD ******* ****** I just need to get to that stage. I will break through that ******* SCREEN and I will be that guy in the ******* TV that will make that little kid somewhere jealous of him and the world he is living in. AND I WILL ******* INSPIRE. UNTIL ONE DAY ONE LUCKY GENERATION WILL GET TO LIVE IN A WORLD WHERE YOU CAN GO OUTSIDE AND EXPRESS YOURSELF TO THE MUSIC YOU ARE LISTENING TO AND NOT BE CALLED CRAZY AND NOT BE JUDGED AND NOT BE RIDICULED AND CASTED OUT OF SOCIETY. AND NOT THIS, AND NOT THAT, AND NOT THIS BUT WORSE, AND NOT THAT BUT TRAGIC. I WILL ******* BREAK THROUGH THAT ******* SCREEN YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT AND I WILL KEEP THOSE LOST CHILDREN COMPANY AND I WILL MAKE THEM FEEL LOVED AND I WILL MAKE THEM FEEL ALIVE AND I WILL SAVE THEM FROM WANTING TO ******* DO IT SO ******* BADLY BECAUSE NO ONE WAS EVER THERE, BECAUSE NO ONE GAVE A **** BECAUSE THEY DON’T HAVE ENOUGH MONEY, BECAUSE THEY DON’T HAVE ENOUGH ANYTHING… but I can’t put food in their stomachs and I can’t keep them warm.. BUT GOD **** IT THEY WILL NOT FEEL NEGLECTED.

0

Dec 10, 2012

Dec 10, 2012 at 10:10 AM UTC

The perspiration of aspiration is indefinite.

Maybe it was my ADHD or my Bipolar or both, but as a child I would put in my headphones and just pretend I’m living… this is what I did for fun, I would put my headphones on over my ears and wear a beanie to keep them from falling off. I would put on something with sickk drums and a kick *** guitar, grab my skateboard and push wood. Synchronized with the music of course, this was more convincing to me that I was not in my life, but that I was in this fictional reality. This reality didn’t even need to be better, it just needed to be not my life; but it always was, better that is. If I didn’t have my skateboard I would interpret the song and either skip to it, walk rhythmically to it, or rock out somewhere; it depended on the song really. This was my first drug and I could not understand why nobody else wanted to live the way I was living… the only thing I wished different is for the music to play out loud and not only in my head as this tended to make me feel self-conscious or awkward in the supermarket or at public places in general. I needed spectacular lenses nearing my middle school days due to my incessantly close music video watching. I needed to feel as if I were there with them so I would sit right in front of the TV set. I even went as far as to grow my hair out and part it evenly to both sides so as to black out my peripheral vision. I consumed music and art that went along with it as if I were a ****** I truly believed the singers in the videos were where I wanted to be, they understood me, their words taught me the truth, their music lifted my spirits, their presence kept me company, kept me sane. They taught me everything my parents should have. They were my angels, my saviors. They taught me about freedom and expression. I began writing, singing, acting, dancing, philosophizing, creating art, creating art through life. Life became a music video, and I became the voice, my emotions the music, my brain the lyrics, my character a poet, personifying sacrifice. I couldn’t understand why everyone else was so BORING! Why they didn’t see me there skipping down the street and run to catch up with me and say, “hey, what are you doing?” … or something along those lines. I didn’t understand why I was alone still in this new world. Nowadays I find myself in front of a computer screen, playing guitar stationary. Waiting. Working. Waiting... and Working… And I will be there one day… I will join them all… I will be there with them GOD ******* ****** I just need to get to that stage. I will break through that ******* SCREEN and I will be that guy in the ******* TV that will make that little kid somewhere jealous of him and the world he is living in. AND I WILL ******* INSPIRE. UNTIL ONE DAY ONE LUCKY GENERATION WILL GET TO LIVE IN A WORLD WHERE YOU CAN GO OUTSIDE AND EXPRESS YOURSELF TO THE MUSIC YOU ARE LISTENING TO AND NOT BE CALLED CRAZY AND NOT BE JUDGED AND NOT BE RIDICULED AND CASTED OUT OF SOCIETY. AND NOT THIS, AND NOT THAT, AND NOT THIS BUT WORSE, AND NOT THAT BUT TRAGIC. I WILL ******* BREAK THROUGH THAT ******* SCREEN YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT AND I WILL KEEP THOSE LOST CHILDREN COMPANY AND I WILL MAKE THEM FEEL LOVED AND I WILL MAKE THEM FEEL ALIVE AND I WILL SAVE THEM FROM WANTING TO ******* DO IT SO ******* BADLY BECAUSE NO ONE WAS EVER THERE, BECAUSE NO ONE GAVE A **** BECAUSE THEY DON’T HAVE ENOUGH MONEY, BECAUSE THEY DON’T HAVE ENOUGH ANYTHING… but I can’t put food in their stomachs and I can’t keep them warm.. BUT GOD **** IT THEY WILL NOT FEEL NEGLECTED.

4

Dear all of the above, Why do you ridicule me so? Severity, Severity, more than you’d ever know The extent of beauty I see in the world Perplexed by the forbiddance you administered, hurl! Why me? Why someone who has been doing nothing but describing beauty his whole life? Irony Why me? The supreme experimenter The great accursed Anonymous Sad clown Sad clown Why me? A Poet. One specifically who followed in the footsteps of Poe not through choice or influence but because life chose a similar path for me Dear life, Dear nature, Dear conscious, subconscious, unconscious, Dear collective conscience, Dear existence, Dear heavens, Dear spiritual realm, Dear all that is and isn’t, Dear all that can be seen, and cannot… Dear knowledge, Dear intellect, Dear intuition, Dear emotion, Dear regret, Dear regret, Dear regret… ******* CIRCUMSTANCE! CHANGE **** YOU! For the love of everything pure. Please Please Please I’m sorry I’m so sorry I’m SO ******* sorry… If I could just go back If I could just… Please... It’s funny how it rhymes Samir… Severe Please no. This isn't real. Please?...

0

Dec 10, 2012

Dec 10, 2012 at 10:09 AM UTC

Chapter never look back.

Dear all of the above, Why do you ridicule me so? Severity, Severity, more than you’d ever know The extent of beauty I see in the world Perplexed by the forbiddance you administered, hurl! Why me? Why someone who has been doing nothing but describing beauty his whole life? Irony Why me? The supreme experimenter The great accursed Anonymous Sad clown Sad clown Why me? A Poet. One specifically who followed in the footsteps of Poe not through choice or influence but because life chose a similar path for me Dear life, Dear nature, Dear conscious, subconscious, unconscious, Dear collective conscience, Dear existence, Dear heavens, Dear spiritual realm, Dear all that is and isn’t, Dear all that can be seen, and cannot… Dear knowledge, Dear intellect, Dear intuition, Dear emotion, Dear regret, Dear regret, Dear regret… ******* CIRCUMSTANCE! CHANGE **** YOU! For the love of everything pure. Please Please Please I’m sorry I’m so sorry I’m SO ******* sorry… If I could just go back If I could just… Please... It’s funny how it rhymes Samir… Severe Please no. This isn't real. Please?...

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