Kam Yuks

Kam Yuks Dec 2013

I like to talk **** when I write - so
-
Astro management
Secure the banished talisman
Martyrdom and ice cream
Melt of the establishment.

What's that? You don't recognize this as a style in your text book?
Doesn't fit inside your box, eh?

It's poetry **** face!

I'm not writing for a grade. This isn't meant to fit anywhere other than outside of my head.

Can't relate to me?

Chances are you've fit in with the normalcy of manufactured lies - I admire your blissful ignorance.

Go ahead and cite your work. I do this to get relief from the APA format.

What's it feel like for someone who ***** at living?

Keep reading, you're not alone.

My submissions were turned down recently. Just me criticizing the critic.

Projection at its finest.

Kam Yuks Dec 2013

Co-Morbid Vagrancy

Overtime and overnight my outlook changes drastically and manifests my inner restlessness.

Nothing seems okay.
You don't see the meaning in my words, well,
I hear you loud and clear.

Excuse me for giving a voice to the voiceless.

The message I receive:

If we are to be heard, let your voice fall into silence.

So it does.

They say I'm too old to carry on this way and I agree. I wish I had the grace to look content with life I waste.

Proof read this ****. Judge what you must and realize everything you see and think is a reflection of yourself. The good and bad.

Kam Yuks Oct 2013

Daily Affirmations

Nothing brand new.
Instead, my mind creates the same day heavy chest weight. I'm tired. So are you. I hide away before mine shines through. You have friends with whom you share your plight. I keep none. I desire connection. I run away, walking slowly to bury my mood in solitude.

Hear these words - although its unlikely that you will even read. This is all I have to show for my time spent alone.

Kam Yuks Sep 2013

Brainwash? It Could be Worse

ALL CAPITAL LETTERS ARE BETTER THAN LOWER CASE BY ANY MEASURE

Meanwhile:

Gaure... No, that's not right.
Guaranteed lecture representative melee. Corporate court circ-u-i-tous clever levels hand collapse, clasp, clapped, then - framed vainly.

Containers balanced with lost lids stored no/everywhere. Nothing matches like my socks save for the peepholes that allow my big toes the advantage of unmasked acknowledgement.

Pleasure packed and wrapped drugs bundled for international transport and - who wouldn't pray to get away from the homestead where lack of order piles clothing to be walked over?

I don't use folders immediately; I rummage through folded papers and file at a later date. Worn creases threaten to rip apart from pocket storage due to the humidity that has dried out once relieved from its sweaty *** prison.

This is just a way to hide my disguise from all the fears of inadequate processing of traumatic inquiry and post modern re-scarring from the old wounds that are ripped apart for lack of industry and self-worth ---> it's hard being home when your homeless.

Kam Yuks Sep 2013

Of the Knights and Anger

Miserably morbid fault lines dwindled to an ending where leaves fall from the sky and off the earth. Spirit spaced out of panic with opalescent vapor. Tier built fuselage billowing smoke from broken windows. Mad man protecting sadness with a coat of contrived aloofness. Eager solar detection vanishes from cut long and dirt laden fingernails. Paint still drying from the recent attempt to write the letters of a name. Broken branch protruding from the impaled veteran fallen.

Now you will grieve for the time you wasted grieving that was meant for saying goodbye.

Kam Yuks Sep 2013

Ogre

Balanced barely - crept up slow. Narrow and steady, my chemical device needs reuptake badly. Bleeding - poorly bandaged wound walking, in memorial of my flight from mothers womb. Pain rainbow, gypsy vantage point through eyes of stained glass. Literally lost, fact facing smothered butterfly sleeping sound under a blanket of pain.

Paste this with a melted glue stick while it is still chunky and in need of nimble fingers to spread.

Kam Yuks Sep 2013

Sad Grown Man - Latent Teenage Angst

These words read similar to those of an adolescent stuck - questioning nature and the depths of inner hatred.

I find it hard to believe that my time is best served within a second adolescence.

My dilemma: does my disdain for the excuse of adolescence stem from my belief of a phenomenological experience, or am I protecting a self-perceived inadequacy?

Standing between answers at the narrow tip of truth* is emotionally draining.

Some say knowledge is power, but I know better.

Knowledge is power for those with the strength to grow amidst the plague of humanities decay. For me, it is a reason to shrink further into apathy.

* I use the word truth lightly. I know it is controversial, but I don't believe in a universal truth. I do believe that truth is relative and that what I consider to be true is actually not true for others. I have found no one that actually stands in that opinion when their own beliefs are questioned, even amongst the individuals i respect the most.
Truth, popularly speaking, is a means for one group to claim superiority over another. This goes beyond religious and spiritual beliefs (think justice and U.S. intervention, and et cetera).
Although I don't think the practice of horrific acts is fair, someone considers themselves justified to carry these acts out. Who am I to say they are right or wrong. I would prevent such acts given the opportunity but I can't condemn them for who they are. The world is ****** up. **** your fairy tale. If tragedy in the most horrific form is wrong, the universe would not allow it. Just like we aren't suppose to fly like birds, unaided by machines. If we were supposed to - we would. Again, the world is ****** up no matter who we blame it on and we all contribute to it. So, I guess I'll see you in hell - or not.