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vircapio gale Jun 2012
love-energy swinging toward bitter blows:
a father’s pride becomes a son’s,
he becoming bitter becoming hatred
in the midst of love abused,
a civil fight for freedom failing in the eyes of youth:
these minds of ours turn wildly—
change to the beat of unknown drums
and death knocks us up
pregnant with a new generation of hate,
of goals to love: the obliteration of hate’s mother,
but question on, worship your mind,
build a shrine of doubt and find
darkness emerging as a deeper shade of black
knowledge? knowledge?
myths laid upon us through the perspectival dimming of language
no one’s fault? societal pressures
no cause for blame? survival instincts
no source of evil? history has a gun to their head. . . .
no use for these words? meaningless.
dialogue, yes, for the birds,
the carrion of hope
once the breeding stops
and lets the precious journey start:
down the cesspool of quasi-oblivion,
where we’re all a minority of one,
grasping for meaning in an abyssm of phantasmal foundations.
words, words, the excuse of words;
when father’s left no ground to walk on,
the son sits there digging
ditches for the death of systems
holes in the fabric mother wore,
tears in the existence we thought we knew.

what is this about? question marks
swerving away from sour truth
bleeds the nonsense through the flesh of what we love
and dying, dying, hate becomes a source of love,
guilt projects a softened heart
kneeling down now
outside, but wanting in.
affirmed, dejected.

[OR
are they swerving away from faith
simply a defense against the actions to take
ontic procratstinator! hear me now!
safety is the goal behind every measure
seek danger and you run the dangers of comfort,
seek comfort, and delusion becomes your handmaid.]

for knowledge of past dogma is dogma too
and the heart pumps it anyway;
for existence is. O heart, your sutra
flows nimbly on into eternity,
but you take this life and live it now,
the rhythm born of a mystery,
sacred to the foolish,
sarkin to the wise—
and the dancing wise man
birthing a new enigma
travels on into the depths of the ordinary
with a smile and a bow,
a hop-skip like Nietzschean
melodrama.

I can write it once for fun,
twice for accuracy,
thrice for fame and ten more for shame.
Do you want to know what it’s about
or do you want to figure it out?
the game of pride makes fresh
the fish of mental seas;
but truth is less cozy;
dagger in your existential eye.

no conclusions to be embraced without the whim of faith?
no art show game gripe to win but for the game of taste?

this bout goes on, this Bout goes on! oh how I wish my mind was lacking!
but no! the sacrifice, but the sacrifice,
pigs of Aristotle knew no quarrell,
no such quarrell.

when does such a poem become a forced effort?  when will I stop questioning myself?
where is this urge to destroy originate?
what ******* language am I speaking in when I think?
what and why,
who the but questions, questions
falling spiking holes in teh floor of contentment
or is it laziness: should I tak emy e pick now or wa itf ort he rig htto **** newith mystic alllllllllllll certainty from be yo ndt he fen ceof lan gua ge.

why go back? why try?
the difference between communication and self-indulgent writing is the effort to conform to the extent necessary for the sharingof truth... and so nobility demands conformity, however long it takes and however wonderful it may be in the mean time to simply spill my fingers across the trypesu ritre lia shjkk e a A b B i IG load o f ***... as if the hiddenness of deconstucted language masked my immaturity as a poet, as a person, as a thinker, as a wallower in shame.  as a Man. as a *** machine. as a weak creature. as a creature of potentially great accomplishments but small ***** at the present, as a person hiding from the said for fear of having to live up to it, as one who doesn’t believe his words half the time, even noe, ever noer rht all suiooos  dhjhjh tuof rhty w arbif trya dfyoudng huddkkfkd fmdmf dfdlililhkjga wyeruipok smmm tuhtuth dgfhg dagdh f dhajkdf  fuduudjjd fh d hdhhd bit b not n tno totot t ototot  read read read read read read read read read reda dnrenadkf leadsd fhdus duig hgjhdf dh sdmf sialdihf duf dreioan ign udfin the dh diguicse of hjtkjh heioa never heros heilike hte  e9a 1 1 ih kj n h ogma doifj hedOLvever otitoto the  ososososririrroow ww dance waiting at the librasyer renckjh c concon con iejr a  goodo excucse to t constraint no nt rot th even dfhight hwith th d dear on the all ndklfn eh fh searching thioart worthless buthen I find htheihadf htis hivoih Valid dfkdljhf jhkajh yea it s i kjh Lavlls ishn Vadildld meaning ngon woven into nonesense nd fnidoijifj bJar in Tennessiossdnohf  a freww few deletes and the important words become clear however taxing on an hypothetical reader from the future in which I do hope to become g”reat” half-heartily,  though for show.  .  .and the experience of writing is revealed through the laziness, or tiredness, of a recent graduate trying to write something meaningful after a summer of passion and *** and drugs and resentment toward the family and the sad economic advice given him.
Rosalie Walker Sep 2013
There is no sense in this world anymore
I feel sore
Seeing people being all the same
It looks like I am to blame

Personality,
A word that doesn't exists in our dictionaries anymore
Creativity was pruned out
Like the hair on the soldier's head

Money is all they think about
I can't carry out
They are making insane
Making me not the same
Hannah Anderson Apr 2016
Slowly moving far far away, away form here

to run to the air to leave the strangest kind Summer

The weight of your problems tapping, sinking into you

the sweet air is leaving fast

I'd fly away if you saw me here


somebody, the one not paying attention

is bothering you

because they are missing it all
Slowly moving far far away, away form here

to run to the air to leave the strangest kind Summer

The weight of your problems tapping, sinking into you

the sweet air is leaving fast

I'd fly away if you saw me here


somebody, the one not paying attention

is bothering you
EM  Jun 2013
Nonesense
EM Jun 2013
And after all this time I’m still imprisoned in the walls of a place I no longer consider home. Is there a safe haven for me somewhere? I believe so when I’m in your arms, but I can never stay. I want to drown in your loving words, suffocate in your love. I want those arms around me like the walls of a home, but I learnt a long time ago not to make a home out of a person, because people leave, and you’re left homeless.
KC Hoye  Aug 2010
Cosmic Katana
KC Hoye Aug 2010
It's the nonesense that haunts me. The bits drifting in that don't add up. I'm gagging on the bits, it's killing me.
I am all the far flung dreams in me, the hopes that drive the need in me, the need to wake. Motivated.

I'm draining out the ***** water, refilling from purer streams. I'm working my way from right to left, pulling levers. Pressure's building, dust sifting from my imagination. I'm driving myself forward, pain no longer a distraction. The bits of me not fitting, will be drifting. I'm moving off, sailing out into the galactic tide, all the valence specks, frozen in space.

I am an extension, the ultimate manifestation, the unending arm of the universe. I am the cosmic Katana.
(c) KC Hoye 2010 cargohold.blogspot.com
James Alai Mar 2016
Stay up late with me
and we can watch infomercials
about vacuum cleaners and miracle cures
and holy water.
And maybe if we are lucky we can
catch reruns of I Love Lucy and Happy Days
because those seem like better times.
Or just talk to me.
even if it is just nonesense.
I want to hear you talk
until I fall asleep.
Tomorrow we can go to the park and sit on a bench
in front of the lake and feed the ducks with
stale bread.
I like the picturesque and the late day sun
and the small things
because they aren't so small after all.
Not when you are with me.
How about we take a ride my old rusty car and
tune into the AM channels about politics
and ancient jazz and opera.
Let's brush off the cobwebs
and find what we are looking for.
It's the small things that are the biggest things.
Those moments in time that seem
like nothing.
They mean everything.
We gotta make it last because
forever isn't a thing.
kate crash May 2011
Bus stop
Limp walk
Sick talk
Boys flop
Across
Seats shoes kick
Howlin kids
Tires stretch out
Yawning tourists
Backpacks full of nonesense
Hearts never make sense
In the heat of the worn day
Texting away
Blah blah blah about nothing
Wanting to feel important
But I'm poor
And I don't look like
A movie star
And that's all I c
What people want
But I'm worn out plaid
In a world of gold
And I don't care if they don't notice
That I appear to b broken
Unmarketable
Where do I fit
Inbetween limosines and slips
Sweatshops and ******
Lies of a world sold
Untold who speaks for me
Who speaks for me?
Faith Melton Oct 2011
Maybe I'm a nobody,
and everybody knows you.
Maybe I won't get far,
and you'll be famous
But you wont get there on wit.

Hey captain of the Barbie squad,
Did you bleach your hair?
Seems it comes with stupidity too
Miss know it all, but really doesn't

Brand name clothes?
They look expensive, oh dear
Is that a stain? Money wasted!
Still obsessing over your hair
In the bathroom mirror?

Did you see your boyfriend was cheating?
Oh wait, it was with me wasn't it?
Maybe you're that boring,
Same drama everday
"He said, she said" nonesense

So, miss I can do anything,
What happens when daddy's money fades?
Bills pile up?

So miss I can do anything,
Having fun being Queen now?
In the end you'll still be the same
Queen of the Brainless
Emelia Ruth Sep 2012
I love you.
But I shouldn't.
There is someone else
who makes me happier
than you ever did.
But
they don't have something
that you have.

Something special,
that made me want
to care for you
and forgive
even when you were
hurtful to me.
Something special,
that made me want to know
all of you,
that there was always something missing
in you
and I had to find it
somewhere.

I never saw your eyes.
I think they are grey
as you told me.
I wish I could see them.
It's been years since I've gazed
into your pool
of wonders
and horrors.

I heard your voice
barely.
If you count
distant words
spoken into cups,
with no string,
talking of nonesense things,
like how the wind
moves through the field
we sat together in once,
once.

I've known you
ever since we were toddlers.
About ten years now
but I feel like I don't even know you.
Every time we strike a conversation,
I get shy
timid
nervous
that I'll say something wrong
that'll make you leave me forever.
It makes me feel
like we are meeting for the first time.
Like we are falling in love
all over again.

I miss you.
My heart aches for you
so much.
Somedays not as bad.
And some
I can hardly take the pain.
Someday we will be together again.
And everything will work,
everything will fall into place
and we can be happy again.
There will be no 2000 miles
between us.
But we have to wait,
and I will wait
as long as it takes.
A Dec 2013
Now i watch you twirling around

Your self esteem wont touch the ground

''Wow i look perfect just as always''

And i feel like strangling you just as always

But a mirror with no other job

I stay there watching you smile

not watching you sob

You're never exisiting pain

And your forever arrogance

Makes me want to watch you dance

on sweet sweet broken glass.

No respect

short little nonesense

As you think you're queen

But i am royal

and will remain forever so

I am the mirror

the torture of your soul.
Matthew  Mar 2014
Untitled
Matthew Mar 2014
Just love yourself, you know, but don't get cocky and save money so you don't starve on the streets but don't be such a ******* greedy *******, and walk with your shoulders straight for once in your life but stop striding around like you own the place, didn't I tell you to start saving money? But after you leave a tip; be frugal not cheap you say i love you much too fast i mean come on romeo and juliet just killed themselves isn't that complete nonesense and in the meantime try to let loose and stop stressing about what you eat i mean it's only food it's not an enemy and you never say you love us anymore and it's breaking our hearts one by one and you really need to be healthier I mean
i love you
and hope you live forever
but ******* will you eat something? You're just skin and bones and my gosh, you need to broaden your horizons but why do you think about all this weird stuff? you need to lighten up and READ more i mean there's so much out there
and why do you get hung up on the little stuff? I mean it's the little thngs that matter you need to set your priorities straight i hope you hate yourself as much as i hate you are you going out again i thought you said you didn't have friends when we said you needed to leave your **** room and by the way you need to stop suppressing other people's beliefs i mean diversity is our strength and you can't let other people tell you how to think and by the way will you stop being a ******* chauvinistic ******* i mean you can't treat people like that and you're probably racist whether you like it or not did i mention you need to eat more? because you're getting fat and you really need to watch your serving sizes but you know it's not how much you eat so much as what you eat and dear, please, that shirt cannot be worn with those pants, you're so adorable when you try to match like this and stop wearing the same two sweaters day in and day out like you're two halves of a mime trying to figure out how to be one.
Did I mention you look fat?

— The End —