The traditional pattern of a set to for Nomark is this: against the backdrop of the giant grift perpetrated by the grand smug ***** he firmly grasps the wrong end of the stick which, to be fair, is waved at him enough
A poster child for impotent rage he’ll berate the checkout staff about a voucher that’s either expired or, mired in labyrinthine small print, doesn’t amount to a free diddly squat
Without the words, the means, the agency to upbraid the bosses he huffs home on an overcrowded bus where not a single other ****** wears a mask
and i fear when seasons and anything in particular changes its rooted far from rational explanation reason removed, because i know change is good and those things that come with it i know, i know twelve thousand fold for how long have i been told fearing of change is folly when life is change odd and strange as paintings by dali
When the one Turns out to be none, What do you do With the leftovers? That feeling That they’re still there That they can start A love you share. What do you do With the feeling That they’re the one?
I thought I found the one. I was even going to ask him out. You can't ask someone out if he's gay.
Oh yeah, "If I Can't Have You" by Shawn Mendes came out recently. I've been listening to it a lot lately. Kind of funny and ironic that it came at just the right time for me. It's like this was meant to happen all along. "Everything means nothing if I can't have you" -Shawn Mendes
Which algorithm is going to understand me understand sentiment behind what I do It is coded for catching the patterns For them we are just there to generate the data to process What insights will they create about me when I'm just the outlier they will remove me to get cleaner results Generalise the problem that it won't cater to me technology is not the slave they make us dance to their tune We change, as much as they advance Develop worse habits change our routines from when we were in the more happier place to a place which comes with waves of sadness.
Failure Too familiar a sensation One that I could use a vacation From ASAP Constantly flooded by thoughts and ways that I could have done better But these days that Go by In the blink of an eye It seems that by The time that I try To do better I find That I’ve failed And if only I could say that I’ve nailed Down a way to rise above that feeling of sadness If only I could, just once, say I had this All figured out If only my actions matched my words in clout I could, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Make things right Take things to new heights Overcome the petty problems and plights That plague my every day life A life rife with strife Rife with the pain of disappointment Like a stab in the chest with a butter knife C’est la vie Such is life Mon ami My friend But this isn’t the end No If you want we can pretend Though That it is for just a minute So let’s stick a pin in it And come back when we’re done Because I won’t let it end ‘til I’ve won At least one time (Once is better but time rhymes) Failure Too familiar a sensation One I view with indignation Despite what good can come of failing Don’t get me wrong though, I’m not hailing Failure as some great thing That we should all strive to bring Into our lives and those around All I’m saying is that failure is worth its weight in gold Pound for pound So I’m told That failure is experience Somewhere between godliness and expedience Hastening our ability to grow And adapt and come to know The difference between wrong and right But even if I know the difference I might Still **** up and that’s okay I remind myself every day That it’s okay to fail It’s okay that you’re in the part of this tale Called life that you’ll make mistakes Like rhyming the above with mushrooms known as shittakes (Okay that was arguably bad But sometimes bad rhymes are to be had When you write at 3am despite needing sleep But you compulsively keep Writing; you can’t put down your pen and pad Oh who am I to kid Everyone knows that I did This on my phone Sitting at home eating garlic hummus alone) Where was I? Oh Failure and success A state of being best left to be assessed By the one who seeks to turn his loss into a win And that’s where we come back to that pin From before The one I said we’d later explore So heed my words carefully Or suffer more pain unendingly Life will never treat you fair, fully So it’s time to start acting comprehendingly As in: comprehend what your failures will do When you learn to use them to become a better you Because life ain’t fair Accept that and beware That life may be unbearable At times (Just like some of these terrible rhymes) But you have to find a way To grin and bear it gleefully Because as they say Mon ami C’est la vie This is the end Now No more pins, rhymes, or lines Just a bow And an adieu And a cow tow From me to you So that you take what I have written And find the thing in life you’ve been smitten By and do what you love even if you fail Even if you whine and moan and wail Until you’re sick and you grow pale Until you learn to use your failure as a tool As a unique stepping stool Onto bigger and better things Even if your failure stings Don’t let it hold you down Don’t let it make you sad and frown Let it bolster you to try again And then When you inevitably succeed When you’re at the top, when you’re in the lead You’ll look back and wished you had read This poem So if you have sad friends Show ‘em This And they won’t be sad for much more (Just angry for rhymes made in poor Taste) But I promise this isn’t a waste Of time I promise this is more than a few words put into rhyme There’s a point, which is this: You’re going to try and you’re going to miss Because failure is an option until it’s not And when it’s not, there’s your shot So have a positive attitude Because life is as good as it’s viewed —pin removed
there are ribbons of light threaded in your hair and the clock ticks are synchronized with your touch I don’t know about the things you used to whisper to me for now, all I know is how your hellos used to feel and maybe it’s 3am and it’s too early for you to go so I’ll ask you to stay until we can get lost again
it’s late to say goodbye now for I left without a word don’t ask me to stay if you already know that I won’t I don’t want to get lost again cause I’m trying to find myself been broken by the consequences I had when I was with you
cold coffee and troubled stares trying to find the life I lost in our cracked walls the song we used to yell while cruising in cars lost in the quiet sadness of the rain our knees bump against each other and we don’t pull them away and I keep saying sorry but you don’t hear anything I say
memories keep flashing I’m trying to shake them off I know that it’s best when we’re both apart we keep on hurting each other with words we don’t mean a sorry won’t fix what’s already been done when I left I know you’ll be okay we’ll both be free of what’s been keeping us chained I loved you for a long time but I know it’s time to let you go I know you’re already unhappy you’re just afraid to be alone
but maybe alone is not what I fear maybe I can’t stand the idea of you being removed from my words all those years of sunshine so I knew I needed your rain and maybe your storms were not enough to chase away the emptiness of the light
I know that you’re a strong independent woman but what you can’t let go was the fun memories we had you cling to the words and you dwell in your thoughts you know you’re so much more than that but you refuse to take hold of that we both knew that you don’t need me but you don’t want to believe that it’s better this way we could be on our own, fixing ourselves on our separate ways why would you run back to the person who broke you? we both know that the circumstances won’t be better if ever I come back
broken is all I’ve known cracks spidering across paint-splattered porcelain and I didn’t mind that I crumbled in your hands you used to look at me like you knew what I once was and in all my dreams you drowned me but I couldn’t take any other hand but yours
Sipping coffee, staring out the office window at verdant trees, calm. Children lay in the streets, twitching from toxins filled in their lungs. A father clutched his two dead babies. Humanity defeated by hatred, or money. Missiles launched, tomahawks flung in the name of Democracy. Missiles whose name is stolen, painted over by Democracy's ****** wake.
But today, I am sipping coffee, staring out the office window at verdant trees, calm.