I like my poetry
Like I like my coffee
Unlike most,
I prefer it strong
And heavy
I don’t mind it rushed,
What I really want it to empower
Is the sweet bitterness
That’ll keep me up for hours
How’re you to live
Without a little contemplation
A bitter drink
To match how you think
About the world and its desperation
Its desire to acquire
A meaning higher than is truthful
Since the only rectifier
For all of the gunfire
Is that we remain faithful…
“Faithful”
Faithful to shadows
That we hope to be
More than more than just a domino
From long ago
Toppling into tomorrow
But even so
Truly, we know
We cannot hope to be
More than the smallest
Ripple in the sea
There’s nothing more than what we see
Despite what we wish would be
There for us now and when we
Leave this place
In all of space
We’re merely dust
Upon dust
No conceited reason
Behind every season
No, that’s just the world’s childish desperation
To see more behind each rotation
Of God’s “divine” creation
Since, truly, there can be no rectifier
For all of the gunfire
And despite how I think I may desire
This blessed ignorance of faithfulness
What I value more is truthfulness
And what it’s telling me
(Thanks somewhat, perhaps, to the coffee)
Is that our best intentions
Will not result in intervention
But in blind destruction
Thanks to humanity’s corruption.
…A bitter drink
To match how I think
About the world and its desperation.
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC
I like my poetry
Like I like my coffee
Unlike most,
I prefer it strong
And heavy
I don’t mind it rushed,
What I really want it to empower
Is the sweet bitterness
That’ll keep me up for hours
How’re you to live
Without a little contemplation
A bitter drink
To match how you think
About the world and its desperation
Its desire to acquire
A meaning higher than is truthful
Since the only rectifier
For all of the gunfire
Is that we remain faithful…
“Faithful”
Faithful to shadows
That we hope to be
More than more than just a domino
From long ago
Toppling into tomorrow
But even so
Truly, we know
We cannot hope to be
More than the smallest
Ripple in the sea
There’s nothing more than what we see
Despite what we wish would be
There for us now and when we
Leave this place
In all of space
We’re merely dust
Upon dust
No conceited reason
Behind every season
No, that’s just the world’s childish desperation
To see more behind each rotation
Of God’s “divine” creation
Since, truly, there can be no rectifier
For all of the gunfire
And despite how I think I may desire
This blessed ignorance of faithfulness
What I value more is truthfulness
And what it’s telling me
(Thanks somewhat, perhaps, to the coffee)
Is that our best intentions
Will not result in intervention
But in blind destruction
Thanks to humanity’s corruption.
…A bitter drink
To match how I think
About the world and its desperation.
