#arrogant
You slipped up,
You ****** up,
Creating that trap
Made for our attention;
The inter-net.
You can't help but gloat
That the cards are stacked,
But I've got your ticket.
Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 3:54 AM UTC
To the Earth, we mourn!
Goddess Mother & Father Cosmos,
How far we have fallen;
How much we have let you down
Though you've nurtured us
And helped us to grow.
We were specks
On the backs of giants
And we thought ourselves special!
How ignorant we are,
How arrogant we have become;
How confusing have we shaped our existence.
The shades of black made white,
But the way the light shines
Shows there is no difference
When we are open & transparent.
The shades of white made black,
But the echo of the song
Reminds us there's more than the wailing
Of crimes against humanity being normalized again.
Feb 13, 2025
Feb 13, 2025 at 11:47 AM UTC
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth,
No man ought to look up
But down on which he is given.
Heywood, ever hear of the Trojans?
Or is that thye pun
On the stupidity of the common person?
But, then nobility repeats it?
Hey, look at me!
I know my history!
I'm so educated that I know better!
That a coward correctly surmised
That a cat may look on a king
Is certainly no surprise.
The more haste, the less speed;
Rush-in over your head,
And regret you did not faster think.
Wedding is destiny,
And hanging likewise.
To be married to such ideals,
I would rather swing.
For when I gave you an inch,
You took an ell.
I gave you a slighting
And you reached for arms.
Now, you tell me;
Did I say these things?
One man's interpretation
Is another man's insulting.
Feb 13, 2025
Feb 13, 2025 at 4:54 AM UTC
Have you ever had one of those moments?
You know, like;
when before you can begin to get a sentence in, you see the other person's eyes roll.
when words of wisdom sound arrogant and cynical.
when you know you're being far too critical.
when your obnoxiously focused on the most simple wrinkle.
when your little issues seem to flip to psychosis and drive you mental.
when your own thoughts threaten to send you to a hospital.
when tomorrow feels like just another obstacle.
Those moments when breathing feels impossible
When contemplating turns suicidal
And dreaming becomes unbearable
That special moment when it sets in that this doesn't feel like living,
This feels more like survival
No?
You've never had that feeling of being out of control,
Lost in a downward spiral?
Where you swear,
This mountain used to be a molehill...
®2024
Jun 13, 2024
Jun 13, 2024 at 7:40 PM UTC
Listen...
If this goes down like the Christians are sayin'...
Ain't no one getting in and god knows it
That ash hole loves it
He's super into punishment
That and judgment
Those two seem to be his favorite
Bringing true enjoyment
So arrogant he wrote it down,
A confession in print
It's obvious no pastor is oblivious,
There's just a willingness,
A complete lack of acknowledgment
They preach benevolent
All I read is maleficent
All I see is a battlefront
A holy deficit
How he treats his creation,
Love and compassion destructively absent
It's an embarrassment
Secondhand, none from firsthand involvement
Unless you think abandonment is an accomplishment
Or fraudulent is some kind of complement
Yeah, I've read it
I wouldn't have taken it public
It's a narcissistic story of sin and atonement
Punished for the failure of a first experiment
Because one decided to be disobedient
Now ungodly pain will accompany pregnancy,
Fuuck the pregnant
Punishment doesn't fit the crime,
But don't question it
That's how it had to be,
But I don't understand that argument
Does the almighty have a limit?
They say no,
There's nothing he can't do
So,
This is exactly how he CHOSE to do it
And when it comes right down to it,
If this shiit I hear is legit,
Let's see if he can feel regret
Will we
Get any
Apology
For this kind of "heaven sent" treatment
Force it to admit to all of it
Even if it takes an eternity,
I'll have all of eternity to do it
©2024
Mar 16, 2024
Mar 16, 2024 at 6:36 PM UTC
Breathing easy, without a care, con-
science filling emptiness in me, auto-pilot,
in and out of wonder why and how.
Bard arrogance, pretending,
it all may be, let us see.
The rule is beauty is truth,
- a temptation,
- a eh, a canadian dare,
- prove all things out and about as
- this being that in a preceptous sense.
according to a cultural rule, we use,
truth is beauty,
and that is plenty to know,
not useful, but plenty
well known…
emplanted in my psyche plot
when I was less than fully functional.
No sweat. Em space, letters let us
see beauty in the symmeasury,
perfect curves and ratio.
Line after line, then
line upon line, then story
to story to now, from ever so long
long before thoughts were fit to spells,
common to all speakers of sacred songs.
Enter the grid of Em, between the lines.
Right,
it's out there
to be brought in
by the eye
of the being holding beauty
as a measure for a portion,
I am asking, as in prayer,
may I have more?
-------- there was an art in forming type
I may destroy it,
I am sorry to say so,
but you know, once we take,
giving seems worthless,
how can I give beauty back
that I took in from there,
see
right there?
Aldus, Theobaldo, is this a spirit
you pondered with, a musement bit
of ifery, in tune to older reasons
easier to use, as we learn
new means of making
knowledge reach beyond the grave,
and back to us in books,
set beautifully in emphatic type styled
perfectly, at the touch of a key
see, set as aesthetic-pleasant, as I wish
this is my magic letter forming
word
rush, through salt marsh, to briny deep
now I lay down my type, perfection of old
rural pens poking angled pits in drying clay,
here is proof of beauty sung,
measure worth of what I learned
in years of seasons spent in trial
resetting of the worth to cost ration,
coin of exchange, goods for service,
clearing rats from the Rathaus,
pressing poets into political
religatory bonds
at exorbitant interest paid in
occurrencys, specie, value
holding letters,
formed as words holding knows, ready
to know,
read and see, we learned to use the mind
reading signs in numbers, sames in shapes and
colors and sounds,
rhythms reoccurring some patterns form,
we agree, see
north, and east,
south, and west, after many seasons,
winters all become one winter,
summers become one summer,
harvest and planting all become one, over all
this is life,
We live we
learn, we leave the knowing showing,
I was here, and when I was
here, others were with me, we went on
according to the story with the center to
where all winds meet,
where all water flows up from into
this beauty
we be
holding as breaths, each as beautiful, or more
so than all that came before, and went.
-----------------
My grand daughter is a bright spot calling,
in passing, as would the shadow
of the jay harvesting the hillside out side
my window.
- I smile a treasure smile
Struck by Brynn Aulyn's fashion sense,
since holey jeans were forboten
in my gramma's haus.
- a lucidated old man am I -
- ever learning there is beauty
-----------------------
Hoping to form a gem of immense
value,
the old bard, stutters,
takes back a step,
looks you over, eye to eye, to make
the circuit, as we
know, left eye, right brain take the order
bend it to the shape
seeming something
you could see - and so it is, you see.
These unnumbered lines are indexed,
linked and crosslinked to all the info
ever, up to now, your time,
when electricity is still the tool to keep
things forming letters in your mental
word process, listening,
far in the future, faceward flow
of all we think to ask to know,
what lies can make a mirror,
¿ stop me in my tracks? Do I know?
Do you imagine, we may know?
Does your reality hide truth?
Why, I wondered too loud, why
I heard only being
caused by quests set to type, adventure
tragic remembrance warning
comic awareness insisting, sense is essential.
ESSE, HEY, capslock, s'cool type reading
we can learn
to think a thought a second time differ
ing in time, up a line, down a line
right to left to right, this is
a twist to things we do
inside, brainwise, neuro-resurgical, burp
of reco
gnosis, tricky gnosis para site graph point.
Stitch
in time. Torn jeans, signify nothing more
than NY Times Digest from yesterday.
--- and my Saturday continues on to yours, soon
enough, let's make peace, since sense is now science.
One time, in my life, at the middle school mark in time we called Junior High,
grade six
through eight,
the formative years, Televised Profusely,
since Our Miss Brooks, I think,
back to when I first pretended to know
the guy that became
John Rambo's boss.
Bite me in my own buts, but, but
I did
read First Blood, before, the movie
made the idea a cultural meme,
meaning one thing to men
of a certain, certified-archetype mold,
hot lead poured to military purpose,
in the imaginary battles boys can
set in array
on vast plains
of rag rugs, in front of hearth, in home
of grandpa, telling
of a friend
who must remember stories alone…
-hot lead type pouring from my gnosis
I I ai don't wish to say this… so
we make a mental meta
using toy soldiers cast in ready state
standing at attention, bayonets fixed.
What comes next, child, may you
never know.
So. that book closes.
Sep 4, 2021
Sep 4, 2021 at 1:18 PM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, pen ink cries too:(
fines that cant be identified on the near
or the writes put on paper they die they cry
got my reasons for the sacred peasants and held daemons
nurtured weapons earned upon various treasons
came surrendered on your questioned gazes
that i fond a sweet spot on my unsolved mazes
unhealthy for the mind
my ears brought up to a permanent blind
you descend my pride
to fault on knees loose
cut on shortage of scenarios to choose
amazement on the major dominance captive of my shoes
leading calls to a song never told never sold
--------ravenfeels
Apr 23, 2021
Apr 23, 2021 at 6:22 PM UTC
I tread beneath this limitless sky;
this limitless sky of which I also am above.
I soar high till my wings melt,
keep falling;
falling till I run out of breath.
But I am worry-free;
worry-free because I know I'll land on a fluffy bed.
What just happened?
What. The. Heck.
Falling, until I run out of breath.
Apr 1, 2020
Apr 1, 2020 at 4:50 AM UTC
Truth will always win
though the arrogant seem tall.
The man who says there is no cliff
will be the first to fall.
Feb 24, 2020
Feb 24, 2020 at 5:43 PM UTC
Under your gaze I was lovely
Like the bright sun rising over the gray clouds
You filled the sky with shining stars above me
You promised me there was no doubts
But now your arrogant boasting crushes me
I become so insignificant and small
Like a blade of grass flattened by a falling tree
Now I don't recognize you at all
The insults and jabs are plenty
Though you search for those old stars
But my night sky is black and empty
As is my shrinking heart
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 11:03 PM UTC
i am nothing if
not just my mistakes,
with bones.
i will wear a cheap suit
to your dinner party
and hit on your wife
by accident.
sorry.
im just so tired of pretending
id rather just be.
Confident
Sad.
Arrogant.
Alone.
when you are those things
you just are.
and when you want to be
youre just toxic.
i am green.
with poison and absence
of anything someone would call
normal life experience.
i cant tell *** from tequila
but i will drink them both
if offered.
i thought i found
heaven on the queensway,
it was really just a cable boy,
who wants to make music.
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 6:57 PM UTC
a sleeveless
snook that
shook the
world from
its bar
did then
retort him
as ye
professor traveled
in place
of Trump
where his
Cadillac in
the news
would cordon
worry on
his brow.
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 8:45 AM UTC
How can my eyes hunger for tormentors bodies
where in my soul can I find desires for sadists
Eves threw on fitted coats of Marquis de Sade
borrowed his manuals and added even more pages
pierced the heart of a Dove defending his nest with lethal pins
And in joyous indignities with devilment aplomp
they reclined and crackled in wanton doltishness
He thinks of and desires us and wants to make amor with us
How can a heart marinated in love truely sincere
a soul ready to die rather than any harm to Eves
Be mother or sister or perchance even a stranger
alas in utter ********** and grotesque situation dire
Come undone with healthy pristine heart ripped to pieces
hung drawn and quartered and sliced in tiny morsels
Like fish baits for mice and minnows or hens clucking
All at the hands of Sirens who worshipped in Satan's cravens
How can a soul with only the spark of Salvation aglow
where it once housed his heart and enduring humanity
With brimful joy and devotions in fitting measures true
as all Eves where to him nowt but sisters and earth angels
Now his burning blood runs cold like rivelets in the Arctic
their words ring hollow and smiles shows rapiers of snakes
Nothing stirs desires for all Eves now seem and look like wicked corpses
Delilahs' wrecking vengeance on Samsons in wickedness supreme
[email protected] rights reserved
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 4:31 AM UTC
Leaving on a world tour
Where I'll be alone
Surrounded by all the unknown
I got no plans for coming home
Oh, oh I'm not coming home
Follow the road
Of paved stone
Concrete laid beneath my feet
Yeah turn on the lights
I'll hit the stage
Surrounded by anarchy and rage
Like an animal in a cage
That's my cards well played
But god I'm glad
that I didn't stay
In this place
Leaving on a world tour
Where I'll be alone
Surrounded by all the unknown
I got no plans for coming home
Oh, oh I'm not coming home
Hear the crowds roar
Memories locked and stored
Some that just burn to the core
Never be the same person as before
Run away little train
From the thinking in his brain
Try to break free of these chains
Burnt by the flame
Bound by his own shame
That was the day
That the monster came
Leaving on a world tour
Where I'll be alone
Surrounded by all the unknown
I got no plans for coming home
Oh, oh I'm not coming home
©2018 Written By Benji James
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 5:03 AM UTC
Hello, hello old friend!
How's the weather up there on thy lofty perch?
Does it neither thunder nor rain?
Do you too not experience unexpected storms that toss and tumble things about just so?
Does your upturn nose not itch from the stench of your own narcissism?
Do you not fear the arbitrary nature of your own will, that it should grow a life of its own and tumble you down like a potted plant from a high rise window sill ?
Does your *** not hurt from how stiffly you sit? Fixed in your stance, relying solely on your own crooked opinions?
Hello, hello old friend!
Do your ears belie the sound of the condescension in your voice
And your eyes blinded by your own pretence to hide you from yourself?
Oh,
no wonder you cannot see further than your nose.
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 3:18 PM UTC
"But the Lord called to Adam, where are you?"
Adam turned his back,
There is no one holier than me and the life I am.
My Lord, you are a man with complex much too far indulged by the only people who have ever loved you.
You were a peasant, a pauper, a campesino
Left behind family for the God that left you.
To answer you Lord,
I am tending to my cows, my chickens, my pigs
Waiting for the day you wake up and see,
I was born from nature itself, not the fists of a man
Too arrogant to both love and accept all the brothers and sisters,
You left behind, trying to reinvent yourself.
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 1:43 AM UTC
*"In the realms of tomorrow
I'll lay out my sorrow
In the realms of yesterday
There was nothing much to say
In the realms of today
I showed you the highway"*
You've being too arrogant from the start
And acted aimlessly to be smart
You let me down in front of our friends
As a result this has come to an end
Yesterday you never made a call
Today you show up with another doll
I got your meaning of love today
You change dolls every second day
Soon you may realise my worth
But then it will be too late ofcourse...
©sim
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 6:23 PM UTC