Nolan Bucsis: Poems

Untitled

Nolan Bucsis Apr 2019

Untitled

I'm failing at life.
And I want the words to stop.
These useless words.
These imprecise and poorly phrased attempts at connection
These paltry words.
These short stout blocky words.
The words like drivel pouring out my face.

Untitled

Nolan Bucsis Feb 2018

Untitled

I'm not here to make you.
Happy.
In fact.
I won't even try.

This is how I cope.
With my demented.
Demonic despair.

The **** life.
I've led.

This is me dancing.
In.
The.
Kali Yuga.

Utopia

Nolan Bucsis Oct 2017

Utopia

I want.
To be.
Normal.

Vacant

Nolan Bucsis Sep 2017

Vacant

Yes I will take the blame.
For things that you've done.
And, I won't shirk from it.

Your guilt.

I'm more or less meaningless.
It bothers me naught.
I'm already dead.
I just keep walking forward.

Victoria I never liked you

Nolan Bucsis Nov 2017

Victoria I never liked you

I asked her if I could sing.
She wasn't expecting me to be good.
And she smiled.
This ***** I just met.
We got high and the drugs said I loved her.
Then, she almost got me killed.
I probably should have just.
Stuck to myself.
Like I always do.
Set to mute.

Vile biology

Nolan Bucsis Nov 2017

Vile biology

I hate her.
Because I've never.
Seen,
Anyone.

As beautiful.

And, I can't control.
The way I act.
Even though.

I know.
Better.

Wanderer

Nolan Bucsis Mar 2020

Wanderer

There was never any way out.
And forever seemed like another thousand steps.
Forward.

Then.
When the impossible happened.
When I found a home.
Nothing got better.
Even though it did.

The same old fried brain.
The same constant depression.
Only.
I'm fat.
I'm boring.
I'm weak.

Only.
Life on the streets might.
Have been better.
For me.

Was it goodbye.

Nolan Bucsis Sep 2017

Was it goodbye.

The emotions I've had.
Must miss me.
As I cast them aside.
And relied.
On myself.
With no need.
For, you.

We are Nihilists lebowski

Nolan Bucsis Sep 2018

We are Nihilists lebowski

I feel as if I have passed on through.
The mortal veil.
And come to my judgement.

One that does not bode.
Well for me.

I'll be condemned.
To more of this torpor.

This inadequate existence.

When I think About Tomorrow

Nolan Bucsis Mar 2018

When I think About Tomorrow

Hopeless.
As all that potential dried up.
Into oh so much ash.
Placed in an urn.
Scattered on the sea.

It's just that reality.
Never turns out quite like it.
Should.

A withered future.
And nothing gained.
So I stick to now.

And,
Medication.

Why

Nolan Bucsis Oct 2017

Why

I gave up on.
The basics.
Of life.

Now, I'm not sad.
I'm just.
Not here at all.

And, even if these sensations.
Stop.

I'll still be stuck.
Ten years too late.
My body breaking down.

And, my age.
Etched in my face.

Why did I wake up #1

Nolan Bucsis Jun 2018

Why did I wake up #1

There is no concern for the feelings of a loved one.
When you're lost out there.
In the comfortable silence.
Of aeons.

Unconcsious.

Subsumed in the warm bath.
Of annihilation.

Beyond speech.

Why did I wake up #2

Nolan Bucsis Jun 2018

Why did I wake up #2

I slept through tomorrow.
Woke up in why now.
And I'm about to recede.
Back into the nightmares.
I have every night

I'm a useless eater.

So I starve myself.
So as not to waste the food.

Just everyone's expectations.

Wifi Signal Lost

Nolan Bucsis Oct 2017

Wifi Signal Lost

Be careful.
Your passion.
Doesn't burn them out.
To the point they malfunction.
And, you can't connect.

Wish I could die

Nolan Bucsis Mar 2019

Wish I could die

It's that potent despair.
Standing over a dead life.
Gone before the miracle appeared.
And mundane.
Some realization I'm not quite where I want to be.
Or as high as I'd like.
But tomorrow is a curse cast from my yesterdays.
Today is a wallowing disgust.
And, my past, an abomination.
Why am I alive.
Just to struggle through the hard bits and reward myself with sloth. I spend a lot of days staring at nothing.
Hours. Just. Passing by.

With nothing better to do.

Nolan Bucsis Dec 2019

With nothing better to do.

I used to say I found.
My joy.
In the Kali Yuga.

But.
I really found.

A quiet.

Dead,
place.

Where endurance.
Is all that.
Matters.

Words, imprecise

Nolan Bucsis May 2019

Words, imprecise

I am chased by a ravenous past.

It obliterated right now.

And tomorrow.
Has slipped away into the sublimation of amnesia.

Where I rest.
In a desecrated hollowed out holy land.

Work

Nolan Bucsis Jun 2019

Work

It's another meandering miserable day.
Stuck in the rain, shrouded in grey omnipotent clouds.

Here.
Working.

I've always wanted to leave.

Go.
Out there.
Far from the doldrums of dreaded consistency.

Work and Literature.

Nolan Bucsis Nov 2017

Work and Literature.

I wanted to be a beautiful.
Free form poem.
When I was younger.

A poignant well put saying.
That touched someone.
Who recognized.
Something inside.

And now,
I just want a job.

Yee haw

Nolan Bucsis Oct 2018

Yee haw

I was grim.
I had malaise.
My listless revelry.
Brought me down.
In this.
One horse.
Town.

Yesterday

Nolan Bucsis Oct 2017

Yesterday

I feel stuck.
In some indiscernible.
Former life.

I don't feel confident enough.
To do anything.
But, get stuck in the static.
And nostalgia.
Of a song I like.

From.
Long ago.

No more life.
No more.

I just want to recede.
Into the roof of my closed eyes.

Remember I was young and idealistic.
Once.

Some time ago.
In this metered rhythm.

Yesteryears

Nolan Bucsis Jul 2018

Yesteryears

I'm old now.
Older than I ever was.
Such a simple dilemma.
Looking at pictures of myself.
From a lifetime ago.

Yet, they call me Narcissus.

Nolan Bucsis Mar 2018

Yet, they call me Narcissus.

I want to be forgotten.
By everyone.
And just appear.
On the shores of reality.
A different person.

You get old

Nolan Bucsis Oct 2017

You get old

Eventually the mystique.
Of not working.
Wears off.

Pointless conversations with cray people.
Who are usually high and looking.
For a way to **** or rob you.
Get old.

One day you wake up from that rebellious.
Romantic.
Utopia.
Of good times.

And, you're missing your teeth.
Nothing in common with.
People you used to be.

You know the drill

Nolan Bucsis Jun 2019

You know the drill

Depressed.

I'm always depressed and punishing myself for not being well adjusted.
And, I'm always hungry and overthinking.

This oh so familiar ennui.
My isolation.
My grand delusions.
Are really just the most effective time waster I know.

This is all just some strange daze.
Some kinda washed out broken device I can't fix.

My misanthropy has made me give up as all I long for.

Is.
Sweet.
Release.

Your mortality creeps up on you and the bravado disappears.

Nolan Bucsis Mar 2018

Your mortality creeps up on you and the bravado disappears.

Every day I cough out more days.
I cut off of my life.
My protest against existence.
Slow suicide that seems to have caught up.

Sometimes you get confused.
At the terror of an immediate death.
A stroke.
Or a heart attack.

You can taste your rotten.
Breath.
Feel the oedema.

But, smile.
Getting lost in the delerium.
A lack of oxygen.
Euphoric decay.
The bodies defense mechanism.

And I rest well.
In the knowledge that relatively soon.
All those things.
That life I had.
That aborted life.
My lack of motivation.

And my isolation.
All my self destruction.
My abomination.

And, I'll curl up.
Shedding pounds like.
Bad experiences.
And dry up in the sun.

With each failing *****.
Each laboured breath.
I'm free.
I can fade away.

I'm washed clean.
Receding into the back ground noise.
That calm place.

Where nothing moves.

Everything in still.
And.
Constant.

— The End —