Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
removed.polaroid-scrabblePoems
thought: an antidote to body - or the ought that never could, but in fact: never would; philosophy: the ultimate spectator sport. oddly enough, whatever the well-paid journalists say, i feel no obligation to be either the spokesperson of humanity, or the preserver of it, that's already stated by a billion Indians and Chinese... i'm but the whiff inspiring **** for a cat to be taken to sleep in the perfumery of the night... and isn't that poetic: i eat my breakfast at 2 a.m., and eat my dinner when the breakfast pancakes are ready - my daydream is always: i might sleep on the street tomorrow - i'm sabotaging my life with excess drink and smoke and an Atkins diet that might **** jogger in a fortnight - i'm a pauper living in a house owned by an honest professional labourer: sure, got all the culinary toys to storm up a curry... dating? n'ah. marriage? double n'ah... hits closer to home when you think about it...                          whatever life is possible: always choose the luxurious one, however strident and helpless in terms of years of it being prolonged - and i am begging for my life to be merely cameo - a lot of people don't realise how long i have been bowing for release: testimony against self-assurance and the self, as in: conscious, alter. i'm in control of myself - mention mortality, just mention morality... i'm ready, as i said once: i know a place where i can find clean water... in between? probably a herbivore existence - and if that doesn't build the muscles up, i don't know what will. honestly though, i feel no asteroid panic gripping me, i feel no obligation to endure humanity, those that retired and kept it up for 15 years can quack all that **** into their grave... perfectly nihilistic, i am... Yoda... i feel no obligation, i find it surprising that all the atheistic arguments arise from comfortable lounges and biographies... scrap-heaps of the envisioned lives of others... question is, on the tip of everyone's tongue: are you afraid of death?                                  the simple fact of mortality is already an answer per se,                   i guess some people never cared for Christmas presents.     life: or the unopened.
0
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 8:11 PM UTC
char!
thought: an antidote to body - or the ought that never could, but in fact: never would; philosophy: the ultimate spectator sport. oddly enough, whatever the well-paid journalists say, i feel no obligation to be either the spokesperson of humanity, or the preserver of it, that's already stated by a billion Indians and Chinese... i'm but the whiff inspiring **** for a cat to be taken to sleep in the perfumery of the night... and isn't that poetic: i eat my breakfast at 2 a.m., and eat my dinner when the breakfast pancakes are ready - my daydream is always: i might sleep on the street tomorrow - i'm sabotaging my life with excess drink and smoke and an Atkins diet that might **** jogger in a fortnight - i'm a pauper living in a house owned by an honest professional labourer: sure, got all the culinary toys to storm up a curry... dating? n'ah. marriage? double n'ah... hits closer to home when you think about it...                          whatever life is possible: always choose the luxurious one, however strident and helpless in terms of years of it being prolonged - and i am begging for my life to be merely cameo - a lot of people don't realise how long i have been bowing for release: testimony against self-assurance and the self, as in: conscious, alter. i'm in control of myself - mention mortality, just mention morality... i'm ready, as i said once: i know a place where i can find clean water... in between? probably a herbivore existence - and if that doesn't build the muscles up, i don't know what will. honestly though, i feel no asteroid panic gripping me, i feel no obligation to endure humanity, those that retired and kept it up for 15 years can quack all that **** into their grave... perfectly nihilistic, i am... Yoda... i feel no obligation, i find it surprising that all the atheistic arguments arise from comfortable lounges and biographies... scrap-heaps of the envisioned lives of others... question is, on the tip of everyone's tongue: are you afraid of death?                                  the simple fact of mortality is already an answer per se,                   i guess some people never cared for Christmas presents.     life: or the unopened.
Written by
removed.polaroid-scrabble
36/M
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 8:11 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem