Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
mtPoems
And now, Ladies and Gentlemen The story of a man Who lived and died inside his own head Came into this world on a whim And left on a whisper Leaving behind just his footsteps For the waves on the nights Darkness came too early To wash away, Clean to the bone Leaving just the shiny purity And reflections for those interested In the forest, As all good mad men roam, He got lost on the edge of, Between beginnings and endings And no real divisions. Occasionally, finding a wise man To split his time with Making it the three of them Him, the man, And them together Roaming with direction But still purposeless Because a purpose Would be their downfall. He feels most comfortable When he is certain there is no guide No difference between territory, charted and uncharted Because there's no one to make maps Only forays forward Leave the paths clear Spontaneous insight lost soon enough Mystic Seam on his forehead Childish gleam in his one blind eye The Silly Being Cutting his way Through the molasses, thick Of time Space, inconsequential But he knows, The only certainty he dares carry Is that heaven, Heaven, doesn't begin. Cannot be reached. The pearly gates are grim Not a soul passes through them But too many Leave through the alley exit For Heaven is not a place Heaven is time Time well spent Because the burden of passing Is forgotten Destroying gates And slicing meaning Road block! Why! Only in my head! Detour! Runs out of steam Pure words tainted lost again run off the road missed the stream Back to a story A story of myself Framed in bigger terms Thoughts, thinking of big And ego eating dinner It's what the doctor ordered. Trying to convince What it could be, nothing to be nothing go nowhere while paths grow and clean themselves Srubbed raw swallowed by my tallest trees, growing richly inside a small world with deep holes to **** and cling to Being Nobody is an Overcoming Defeating the propaganda of Somebody The self lies It can only grasp Fruitlessly It finds for itself It can't see beyond No! Never that simple! To save yourself you must save the world Only fools grab all they can "Only fools rush in" Only fools stay back Playing with fire It's a prophesy Doing it because we can Is the route to go The only route we know There are no reasons Sometimes directions Even if they lead nowhere Right back atcha' Screaming, cuddling Cuddling? I'm not the sentimental type At least, I pretend not to be Maybe it shows I don't know That's what it comes down to Yeah, I don't know I can't remember a single thing I heard on the news Even if it's all engrained in My bark brain A pair of loveless lovers Wanted to prove to themselves So they cut into my soft brain Their own story And I would return the favor But I lost the binding to the pages Of my story But if I could so humbly request O, Greatest Story Tellers And Yarn Spinners Of our time I would very much like it If I was, humbly mind you, The Greatest Story You ever told But Nameless It would be my overcoming There would be no excuse Not to do great things Even better if no one Knew that I did them It would fill my heart And be a great conversation piece "Hey Ladies..." Pull up one eyebrow Flip out my pocket-halo "I've done it, done it all. Not that you would know" Just the way I'd like it Then remind myself I hate bars And talk a walk home Late at night (Okay, maybe a jog) (Fine, a sprint) The night suffocates If you hold your own neck closed It's a nice change from day. People have finally turned on Engaged Maybe its the fear, Time to relax I've forgotten that But seeing others alive Is the last thing that reminds me, I am I am, too. And, I hate heredity It can make folks forget That They are, too I inherited nothing Except confusion And that's the only gift to offer Because You know you love someone when you can be Confused, together It would bore me to death If we could understand each other That might just be My Neurotic Impotence talking Looking for an excuse to shiver in place Yes, Neurotic Impotence not neurotic impotence It's my second name I hate middle names People keep them secrets For no reason I hate secrets Secrets don't exist Somebody always knows them So they can't be very secret National Secrets, too Give my my cut I'm a gossip And I've run out of stuff To ride conversations Straight into I don't do enough weird things Or get involved too often To tell a good story The windows to my mind Are sufficient I've been informed, That they're quite pretty, also Makes me feel a bit better About all the time I've invested At staring at the tops of trees Not much, actually It makes me look pensive, I think Almost like I know what I'm doing That saddest part is that I'm not completely lost either. Hovering in the middle Neither here, nor There Typical, I suppose So's indulgence But I say, Kids, Older folk devoid of experience, Indulge Only in yourself, however Indulgence isn't the problem It's not knowing why Now let me preach a minute True prophets Ask for nothing in return Not a dime, The good ones, Not even your attention They stand on their private Street corners telling to the stars In both hushed whispers And crashing screeches About what they think And the day the find A disciple They will be pleasantly surprised   Because that was never part of the the plan They are prophets And saviors Because they are the select few Who saved themselves And now, The man we talked about earlier He's still alone He's a bit afraid Enough so to not find someone To tread the waters with him Because he is an almost fearless man He doesn't fear scenery Place, and time all the same It's the implications that weigh heavily On a psyche that's already burdened itself On long bus rides To remind himself (and his good pal, psyche) That he isn't going anywhere The city he thought he was bored of Has slipped into the background And now that the future Might just Actually happen It's time to freeze in place It's a nice break against the pushing rush of reality To stop and smell the roses While right behind His back, The world implodes The sky blossoms open Only fools rush in Only fools stand back Survey the scene and you will lose the gist The parts will show themselves And you'll miss the whole That's where it's alive Don't get so caught up in the pieces It's the weight You'll drown in It's a little death in the family Enough to shake it up a little bit Thanksgiving, dig in One less the thing to worry about And one more thing to write off I'm sure there's a grand deduction for it. Remember when I said I hate things? That's not true I don't hate anything Things only exist, and are Because other things are That they aren't And I can't love So there's no hate Nothing to compare it to It's more of an empty feeling With a silver lining, It passes quickly I haven't found the thing I just Hate yet There's always a catch Call the Holy Hotline, There's always a catch We're here for your calls, 24/7! Heaven is neon Brothels, tight lipped doors It's Sanctified Skidrow Baptized in Hard Liquor out By the chalice alley The heavenly Saints Who were brought down Straight from "Up There (He's smiling down on us, I swear I can feel it, if I strain really hard and pop the blood vessels in one of my good eyes, He's there, He's always there. I swear, She told me so, Late at night, screaming o god at the ceiling, That's when I feel him, ***** blood and Canonized *** These saints, now, Or perhaps Saints, Mumble to themselves And sing invisible praises It's weird The visionaries are all weird But to be insane in an insane world Offers a sliver of freedom Between all the crucifixions and handcuffs White noise, and head banging I never got What other people called Soul Searching Because I did it everyday Being broken down and rebuilt every week Goodbye o, Worldly World! Not too cruel But never too nice, either This is not the end I realized That there is no end, Is there? That's the only certainty And the man asked me, "There's no end is there?" Cigarette in mouth, limp No, no There never is And the walls We have built Will collapse If we turn our backs on them long enough And soon enough The Hopeless Caught on each side of the wall Will have to to unwind Themselves From the thick braid They've found themselves in Insanity Unwinds the same way Curling inwards From the corner of my closed eye Fractal Freedom In a million parts Twisting into The beautiful whole To be at liberty To uncoil again Back here again? Always back here Insanity Before and again And the big wide world would Drive you so If you dared understand it I think I Might just be part Of an elite class The fuck-ups The movers and shakers But never the pushers The world rotating around them Looking for an in Exits to nowhere aplenty But right now, I sit Here Sterile, and sick The man's voice buzzes, and rattles Like the old AC at my grandma's apartment The air, Almost as dry His low hum splits would could be A comfortable silence And I suppose, That's why they think we're here For all the "could be's" The first words out of my mouth Are a shrieking car crash The mechanical man Has such a grip On the Atmosphere His cogs and wires Are free from the disease That i Am Rotting in my seat Outside, where I cannot go, The sky is static Why is it static? I'm afraid It's been that way too long And now my walls melt into the sky Buzzing and Flickering Low Light The worst It's now a diagnosis Tell me what I have Please oh please It's in my head But feels like my chest Sitting in place Might be Cruel and Unusual Long walks on the beach sound nice But alone If you can be with me, and alone You're the one -Aw....thanks me!- And it scares me, Like many things The dreary rounds I make each day That I've built my own prison I might just find myself More free in a cell (Free up my schedule a bit, just a bit) And facing that mechanical man, My voice dries up Pulling my thoughts Down with it Flush A soft touch to The hard lighting Uh, Maybe I need to lay down Where the grass cuts my shins I've given up There's nothing but god above us And nothing below us The sky is god And it is empty.
0
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 2:07 AM UTC
Ode to Getting Lost On One of the Good Days, and Some of the Bad Days
And now, Ladies and Gentlemen The story of a man Who lived and died inside his own head Came into this world on a whim And left on a whisper Leaving behind just his footsteps For the waves on the nights Darkness came too early To wash away, Clean to the bone Leaving just the shiny purity And reflections for those interested In the forest, As all good mad men roam, He got lost on the edge of, Between beginnings and endings And no real divisions. Occasionally, finding a wise man To split his time with Making it the three of them Him, the man, And them together Roaming with direction But still purposeless Because a purpose Would be their downfall. He feels most comfortable When he is certain there is no guide No difference between territory, charted and uncharted Because there's no one to make maps Only forays forward Leave the paths clear Spontaneous insight lost soon enough Mystic Seam on his forehead Childish gleam in his one blind eye The Silly Being Cutting his way Through the molasses, thick Of time Space, inconsequential But he knows, The only certainty he dares carry Is that heaven, Heaven, doesn't begin. Cannot be reached. The pearly gates are grim Not a soul passes through them But too many Leave through the alley exit For Heaven is not a place Heaven is time Time well spent Because the burden of passing Is forgotten Destroying gates And slicing meaning Road block! Why! Only in my head! Detour! Runs out of steam Pure words tainted lost again run off the road missed the stream Back to a story A story of myself Framed in bigger terms Thoughts, thinking of big And ego eating dinner It's what the doctor ordered. Trying to convince What it could be, nothing to be nothing go nowhere while paths grow and clean themselves Srubbed raw swallowed by my tallest trees, growing richly inside a small world with deep holes to **** and cling to Being Nobody is an Overcoming Defeating the propaganda of Somebody The self lies It can only grasp Fruitlessly It finds for itself It can't see beyond No! Never that simple! To save yourself you must save the world Only fools grab all they can "Only fools rush in" Only fools stay back Playing with fire It's a prophesy Doing it because we can Is the route to go The only route we know There are no reasons Sometimes directions Even if they lead nowhere Right back atcha' Screaming, cuddling Cuddling? I'm not the sentimental type At least, I pretend not to be Maybe it shows I don't know That's what it comes down to Yeah, I don't know I can't remember a single thing I heard on the news Even if it's all engrained in My bark brain A pair of loveless lovers Wanted to prove to themselves So they cut into my soft brain Their own story And I would return the favor But I lost the binding to the pages Of my story But if I could so humbly request O, Greatest Story Tellers And Yarn Spinners Of our time I would very much like it If I was, humbly mind you, The Greatest Story You ever told But Nameless It would be my overcoming There would be no excuse Not to do great things Even better if no one Knew that I did them It would fill my heart And be a great conversation piece "Hey Ladies..." Pull up one eyebrow Flip out my pocket-halo "I've done it, done it all. Not that you would know" Just the way I'd like it Then remind myself I hate bars And talk a walk home Late at night (Okay, maybe a jog) (Fine, a sprint) The night suffocates If you hold your own neck closed It's a nice change from day. People have finally turned on Engaged Maybe its the fear, Time to relax I've forgotten that But seeing others alive Is the last thing that reminds me, I am I am, too. And, I hate heredity It can make folks forget That They are, too I inherited nothing Except confusion And that's the only gift to offer Because You know you love someone when you can be Confused, together It would bore me to death If we could understand each other That might just be My Neurotic Impotence talking Looking for an excuse to shiver in place Yes, Neurotic Impotence not neurotic impotence It's my second name I hate middle names People keep them secrets For no reason I hate secrets Secrets don't exist Somebody always knows them So they can't be very secret National Secrets, too Give my my cut I'm a gossip And I've run out of stuff To ride conversations Straight into I don't do enough weird things Or get involved too often To tell a good story The windows to my mind Are sufficient I've been informed, That they're quite pretty, also Makes me feel a bit better About all the time I've invested At staring at the tops of trees Not much, actually It makes me look pensive, I think Almost like I know what I'm doing That saddest part is that I'm not completely lost either. Hovering in the middle Neither here, nor There Typical, I suppose So's indulgence But I say, Kids, Older folk devoid of experience, Indulge Only in yourself, however Indulgence isn't the problem It's not knowing why Now let me preach a minute True prophets Ask for nothing in return Not a dime, The good ones, Not even your attention They stand on their private Street corners telling to the stars In both hushed whispers And crashing screeches About what they think And the day the find A disciple They will be pleasantly surprised   Because that was never part of the the plan They are prophets And saviors Because they are the select few Who saved themselves And now, The man we talked about earlier He's still alone He's a bit afraid Enough so to not find someone To tread the waters with him Because he is an almost fearless man He doesn't fear scenery Place, and time all the same It's the implications that weigh heavily On a psyche that's already burdened itself On long bus rides To remind himself (and his good pal, psyche) That he isn't going anywhere The city he thought he was bored of Has slipped into the background And now that the future Might just Actually happen It's time to freeze in place It's a nice break against the pushing rush of reality To stop and smell the roses While right behind His back, The world implodes The sky blossoms open Only fools rush in Only fools stand back Survey the scene and you will lose the gist The parts will show themselves And you'll miss the whole That's where it's alive Don't get so caught up in the pieces It's the weight You'll drown in It's a little death in the family Enough to shake it up a little bit Thanksgiving, dig in One less the thing to worry about And one more thing to write off I'm sure there's a grand deduction for it. Remember when I said I hate things? That's not true I don't hate anything Things only exist, and are Because other things are That they aren't And I can't love So there's no hate Nothing to compare it to It's more of an empty feeling With a silver lining, It passes quickly I haven't found the thing I just Hate yet There's always a catch Call the Holy Hotline, There's always a catch We're here for your calls, 24/7! Heaven is neon Brothels, tight lipped doors It's Sanctified Skidrow Baptized in Hard Liquor out By the chalice alley The heavenly Saints Who were brought down Straight from "Up There (He's smiling down on us, I swear I can feel it, if I strain really hard and pop the blood vessels in one of my good eyes, He's there, He's always there. I swear, She told me so, Late at night, screaming o god at the ceiling, That's when I feel him, ***** blood and Canonized *** These saints, now, Or perhaps Saints, Mumble to themselves And sing invisible praises It's weird The visionaries are all weird But to be insane in an insane world Offers a sliver of freedom Between all the crucifixions and handcuffs White noise, and head banging I never got What other people called Soul Searching Because I did it everyday Being broken down and rebuilt every week Goodbye o, Worldly World! Not too cruel But never too nice, either This is not the end I realized That there is no end, Is there? That's the only certainty And the man asked me, "There's no end is there?" Cigarette in mouth, limp No, no There never is And the walls We have built Will collapse If we turn our backs on them long enough And soon enough The Hopeless Caught on each side of the wall Will have to to unwind Themselves From the thick braid They've found themselves in Insanity Unwinds the same way Curling inwards From the corner of my closed eye Fractal Freedom In a million parts Twisting into The beautiful whole To be at liberty To uncoil again Back here again? Always back here Insanity Before and again And the big wide world would Drive you so If you dared understand it I think I Might just be part Of an elite class The fuck-ups The movers and shakers But never the pushers The world rotating around them Looking for an in Exits to nowhere aplenty But right now, I sit Here Sterile, and sick The man's voice buzzes, and rattles Like the old AC at my grandma's apartment The air, Almost as dry His low hum splits would could be A comfortable silence And I suppose, That's why they think we're here For all the "could be's" The first words out of my mouth Are a shrieking car crash The mechanical man Has such a grip On the Atmosphere His cogs and wires Are free from the disease That i Am Rotting in my seat Outside, where I cannot go, The sky is static Why is it static? I'm afraid It's been that way too long And now my walls melt into the sky Buzzing and Flickering Low Light The worst It's now a diagnosis Tell me what I have Please oh please It's in my head But feels like my chest Sitting in place Might be Cruel and Unusual Long walks on the beach sound nice But alone If you can be with me, and alone You're the one -Aw....thanks me!- And it scares me, Like many things The dreary rounds I make each day That I've built my own prison I might just find myself More free in a cell (Free up my schedule a bit, just a bit) And facing that mechanical man, My voice dries up Pulling my thoughts Down with it Flush A soft touch to The hard lighting Uh, Maybe I need to lay down Where the grass cuts my shins I've given up There's nothing but god above us And nothing below us The sky is god And it is empty.
This poem began as what I would like to think of as cohesive, but I just let my thoughts lead me and let it snowball into whatever the hell it has turned into.
Written by
mt
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 2:07 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem