#fallacy
Rain-shod, I imagine your face slick with wet;
Your sturdy glasses frame
and clear lenses blurred,
the buzz of your hair sullied —
a sopping dandelion of mused black & grey.
Well,
I assume you'd mirror yourself in equal
to my look of wild hope at a rendezvous,
my drizzled sight pushing past the clouds of our noon.
You flush at my nerves;
I enquire at your bowed head.
Plain as day, I ask you only to look at me;
teach yourself the face of my name,
come armed with your greeting and friendly question. See me reciprocal and
willing to embrace you.
In you, I will learn the perfect vitality
of your stoic masculinity;
the visage of your potential palpable
to my girlish pliancy.
‘Ere my lust goes further — spiral adoration
borne of Venus
and Lissajous wanting in me.
Know, man, that you inspire a wicked fantasy —
You hold your umbrella to the left of me, pointing its curved structure
over us in order to evade the rain. This is love, I think;
the weather of you soon to pass by as fleeing as autumn-dead weeds.
Feb 18
Feb 18, 2026 at 7:08 PM UTC
Finally,
So not all of a sudden but gradually,
It's been proven systematically
Everybody WILL leave me
And no,
I'm not a fortune teller phoney
Want proof?
Well,
That's easy
Follow closely
A quick peek and you'll see
Everyone has left me
The problem is me,
Obviously,
Self doubt has it's very own key
But here's what gets me,
When I want to leave me
Suddenly
That's another something wrong with me
You don't want me
I don't want me
How do those conclusions land differently?
Identical mindsets but yours are worthy
Of walking away unapologetically
Levitating an old issue like I've lost gravity
But still wound up in the devils proximity
Clearly
I'm the only one not allowed to not want me
Love it's self is a fallacy
Someone needs to explain that duality
©2025
Jan 10, 2025
Jan 10, 2025 at 3:34 AM UTC
Silence sounded soothing & sagacious
Time stood still...Solitary stayed selfish & superstitious.
This, tingled senses; that bell tolled & manifested a macabre Misery.
Since solitude strengthened a spot;
Mine own nightmares grew into one Succubus, filled with immorality - ****** desires...
Somewhere, somehow, I'm a lingering loner looking for love - a sentiment that never dies!
Life ended, memories remained copious;
Silence suffocated & since, misery concluded,
My addiction added a fastidious aura - some kind of flirtatious facade.
All donating a desolate & oblivious tragedy.
~ A. Rose
Dec 20, 2024
Dec 20, 2024 at 3:19 PM UTC
Today I have found a new reality
A truth that shatters the common fallacy
It lies hidden just below the surface
It gives my life new meaning and purpose
There is a God: he's alive and moving
The mystery of life itself is proving
He is risen alleluia, and he is lifted high
Let the trumpets blare as his glories fill the sky
I am free to dance and free to sing
Praise and honor to the God and King
I am a new creation; I'll never be the same
For you called me and gave me a new name
I cannot live now the way I once did
But I'll keep the joy and wonder of a kid
I have a spirit of courage both gentle and bold
This Gospel of Life is ever new never old
It can't be sold, it can't be bought
A promise honored that wasn't forgot
It is the very word of God coming alive
It is to live this new reality that I will strive
Dec 12, 2024
Dec 12, 2024 at 9:19 PM UTC
I've shut down so completely it's profound and I've now lost touch with reality
What I want to be and what I'll never be eventually co-mingle and become one entity
The blasphemy, the phony sanctimony and hypocrisy blast from me
I try awkwardly to juggle all three, run 'em up the flag pole, wait and see
Hear ye, hear ye...another blunder here for your amusement, come see
Woe is me! An empty plea for pity ******* by a request to be put out of my misery
It's plane to see, at least by me, that I'm my own worst enemy, I'm no friend to me
Bad karma stacks rapidly atop the early onset of senility
Losing my mind was an inevitability but that was my only company
...now it's only me...
The notion that behind every smile you'll find your happy is, in it's self, a fallacy
©2023
Dec 13, 2023
Dec 13, 2023 at 6:23 PM UTC
I found my fate below my feet.
So I continue to tread gently.
Sobering up from the intoxication of seeking.
My light has never been lost and need not to be sought.
I’m breaking the walls I built to cover the real me.
Coated with anxiously raised endurance and strengths.
All the layers of fallacy.
My true nature has always been fragile.
Yet I’m toughened by life’s impermanence.
Holding on to the very meaning of life.
Embracing all sufferings and hardships.
Without losing sight of my creative and truer self.
Jun 19, 2022
Jun 19, 2022 at 2:37 AM UTC
I’ve thought about that so many times before,
An itch on my mind like a scratch on the floor.
I’ve seen my face on other peoples memories,
Boxed away in places just out of reach.
It might be my life but it’s just a figure of speech.
A forgotten fallacy, framed through the ages and found in the back room of an old mans house,
Dust blown, leather cracked and spine broken.
Cracked open in two, bent over a knee and followed by the finger.
Put the red ribbon down and let’s talk it over,
Draw a pretty picture and imagine it again.
Where the wind whistles and the dogs howl like stars in the night.
Piercing the black, thick tar in the sky.
Running over clouds and dripping through my mind, thick like treacle but no half as sweet.
Nov 7, 2021
Nov 7, 2021 at 6:30 PM UTC
You're not happy
because
you don't deserve
happiness
Nov 19, 2021
Nov 19, 2021 at 8:06 PM UTC
Careful,
Little Red.
Don’t let those
puppy-dog eyes
fool ya.
{If you lie down with dogs, you’ll get flees}
Sep 3, 2021
Sep 3, 2021 at 6:28 PM UTC
I have a strong urge
to purge fallacy
of my own and others
of my kindred soul
and my brothers
the shackles you see
are barely there
But those inside
your mind
rattle your soul
Using truth as sword
Justice as shield
Martyrdom awaits
In the holy battlefield.
Apr 30, 2021
Apr 30, 2021 at 1:54 AM UTC
You must pray for the fickle and weak.
As we all need to make it through the heat.
Your whiskey neat burns down the branches of your chest as you speak.
Expand into a balloon, the crowd won’t bow but shake their heads.
They can not believe this tale you live, the life in a comfy castle cove.
The girls back home cry, denying all this fallacy.
Really it can not be like this, this isn’t reality.
This can not be like you or me.
We aren’t merely copies, are we?
They cry tears in the shape of rapids that carve rivers down your cheeks.
To take her to the moon will settle, remedy this pain.
So give me a few years and I’ll get you there.
For now pray for the fickle and weak as they aren’t lost, but free.
Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 8:15 PM UTC
the better part of last-minute
and i spend it staring at your lips;
the poems spill out of your mouth
and stain my hand-me-down rug;
as if our brokenness is compatible,
my masochism needs company
and you are eager to disappoint.
the tongues and whispers of secrets
in a cyclical nature; i have been here before.
the familiarity the fear the focus:
the fallacy of finding love in an empty heart.
Sep 22, 2020
Sep 22, 2020 at 10:17 PM UTC
What is it about you that I like so much?
Truthfully, I’ve forgotten.
Like why WW1 started in the first place
Or what the chemical symbol for iron is on the periodic table.
What does that say about our relationship?
The answer is beyond me.
But much like the chemical symbol for iron and the reasoning behind the first World World,
I can easily find the answer in my brain’s built-in memory box.
Thank you, hippocampus.
However,
One is only able to retrieve a memory or fact that has been taught or revealed to them in the past.
That being said,
If I truly don’t know why I fell for you
Maybe I never did in the first place.
Now that would make sense.
Aug 6, 2020
Aug 6, 2020 at 3:31 PM UTC
when youths fall in love,
some venture a lifetime worth
of a love story to tell,
from youth to centenarians,
love never seems to die
love never seems to imbalance,
'til death do they part, with a happy sigh.
but some youths fall in love,
and venture young tragedy
losing themselves for temporary happiness
but who are we to take these away
if love is such a beautiful thing
that makes living life more worthy.
IA
May 26, 2020
May 26, 2020 at 2:40 PM UTC
The shards of fallacies
of the past souls
await, the robust
youth.
The shards impale them,
as their boiling
young blood,
stands witness,
To the reminiscence
of the fallacies.
May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 12:22 PM UTC
I love it,
How you let me sink,
Into wonderland,
My thoughts falling,
All into place,
Pinch me,
I can't be dreaming,
Oh, I am living a dream
May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 6:02 AM UTC
I swallowed
the sound of your name
like it was a star--
five points,
the type they
teach you to draw
in kindergarten.
It hurt
on its way down,
stalagmites of constellation
catching on my uvula,
hanging on with
astronomical strength.
But this is no cliffhanger.
Do you know what happens next?
I stopped breathing.
You've never deserved
your name,
you know.
"Light giving,"
it means.
Oh,
and how I gave into
the sublime
fallacy
of it.
Because
all you ever did was steal
the moons from my irises.
You treated me like
I was the dirt beneath
your fingernails
(you forsake
the dust on your windowsill--
but don't you know
all dust comes from
the wondrous galaxy that
dwells before us?)
I reached out to you
only to get
c u t
o f f
at the hands
Still,
I couldn't let you
go,
didn't know how to.
Even when my flame
was reduced
to these weeping cinders,
even when the idealization
I held between my palms
found itself exiled
to this mausoleum
of severed trust,
hatred blossoming
in rosettes against
crumbling tombstones.
The epitaph reads,
"At a loss for words."
Tell me this:
what sort of
"light giver"
doesn't believe in
in the possibility of magic--
in the pinnacle of light itself?
You always thought me
a foolish girl
for dreaming--
naive girl,
silly girl,
wrists blooming
in paper cuts,
always one fairytale
away from insanity.
Until
one day,
I stopped believing
altogether.
And all it took
was a single glance
from those eyes--
glacial sapphires,
your grandest seduction.
Hell itself would have
hardened itself to tundra
at the sight of them.
You always had a way
of contaminating
the things I loved
with a frostbite so lethal,
I would have
gladly dismembered
every hypothermic part
of myself
(every fragment of soul
you ever touched).
Like a shooting star,
I fell for you--
hopelessly.
Catastrophically.
And then the heavens went
dark.
Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 12:27 PM UTC
From beyond the clouds and stars,
For a voiceless clear call, I perk my ears.
The foam, froth and the very crux
An orchestra of a trillion pieces the universe,
You, me and the spirit binding it all,
Resonate to the pulses of an unflinching light.
Everything that is seen or invisible,
With all that are known or not at all,
Are tightly woven together as one!
Any awareness otherwise, a mere fallacy,
Let go, come be one with the pure essence!
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 4:35 PM UTC
Ok
Yes, it’s not all about love, or pain but surely it’s a metaphor for the depths of the halls we walk by ourselves amongst ourselves in order to confuse anyone that tries to wander too close to our hearts. Oh come on! Poetry is so pretentious.
To hide through rhythmic syllables, to share a sonnet with thee. To dedicate an entire repertoire of acoustic melodies in order to talk about her body?
Do not get me wrong, I love my fair share of dramatic soliloquies but it seems, to me that honesty has lost its value. Especially with writers. There’s no more truth anymore…no. It always has to develop into a complicated string of ideas. There was a time when writers were able to talk about a woman or lover or whatever, without invoking all the gods.
Learn how to love for what simply is
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 11:00 PM UTC
I am not Julius
Don't stab me with fallacy
And then walk away
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 8:56 AM UTC
Beauty is a fallacy.
It makes sense to us,
but who has the right to
determine it?
The majority of the
Population perceives that
they are given that right,
for beauty has been twisted,
manipulated and barbed into
a wire that is toxic and
vehemently grotesque.
Beauty is subjective,
Its core isn’t objective.
We like to think it is,
but in reality, in notions,
in principles, and in practices
it is not
For beauty is determined by grace,
by elegance, and most importantly looks.
Beauty of thought and process
is highly disregarded.
It has become but a mere
illusion, barren in both
the intricacy of reality and truth.
Beauty is subjective, yet
it is determined by predispositions
and implicit standards that
originated many years ago,
yet these originated ideals
still reign supreme today.
Beauty is far more than
an outward façade,
For beauty is truth,
beauty is compassion,
beauty is knowledge
beauty is humility.
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 1:37 PM UTC
Darling,
you wear your sadness so well.
I wish it would rain every day so I could constantly witness
the way your cheeks glow with the tears falling from your eyes
or the thunder of your voice as you sob through the night.
I love the way your brain tosses
and turns
and rummages
inside your skull
picking at old threads and littered notes.
I just hate cleaning up after a rampaging storm.
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
To find true love is indeed the hardest
It's not as easy as uno dos tres
To find real love is a man's real foe
For they only want's not love but ***
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 9:05 AM UTC
Ruining her was a part of the plan.
It was a part of his prose that he
so deliberately wrote down.
Ruining her was merely a
fraction of his deepened
attraction and rooted nature
that was of his own accord.
One look, one simple taste
was enough for him to determine
his destructive path.
She had no say in such a plan,
for she wasn't aware of such intentions
that would soon ruin her,
everything she stood for,
and the innocence and
compassion that
she prided herself in.
That vanity and that admiration
for her compassionate
conceit is what
drew him to her.
That's what he wanted.
A passionate conceit because
he so coldly lacked one.
He desired to have it, to
possess what was hers.
He wrapped his digits
around the
width of such vanity,
stroking it with
brutal gentleness,
and then
he ripped it apart,
tainting and corrupting it
until that very conceit
was tarnished.
Ruined and stained,
that's what she was.
That's what he wanted.
He could taste it on his tongue,
lapping up at the censure
flavor of power.
It was bitter and prudent,
and he expected nothing
else.
That varnished and
sour taste was merely a
reminder of what he had done,
of what he was relishing in.
He was cunningly honest.
He was vehemently kind.
He was brutally gentle.
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 11:18 PM UTC