#intellectualism - Hello Poetry

I commit myself to the homicide of my thought-flowers. I indulge in the **** - Killing my darlings for the sake of art and sanity. What a paradox. I have bloodied my hands with it even so. No more love-lite poetry! No more adolescent chinks of the pseudo-heart! No more infantile fork-stabs at the plate of kid-intellectualism! No more Wikipedia pages on thoughts that can swallow computers whole! I'm killing my darlings for the sake of art, for the sake of sanity - what a paradox. Blood is flowing. I'm a murderer of ideas tonight - today I will write about many of life's very few truths. Like trees. Like soil. These are the only constants in mathematics. These are the identities. In my garden, I reach out to crush an almost-crimson hibiscus. Petals squelching with skin and nectar - no perfume. The hibiscus roils, unliving. Red pulpy mess; heart out of chest.

0

Aug 15, 2015

Aug 15, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC

vamika

Red Hibiscus

I commit myself to the homicide of my thought-flowers. I indulge in the **** - Killing my darlings for the sake of art and sanity. What a paradox. I have bloodied my hands with it even so. No more love-lite poetry! No more adolescent chinks of the pseudo-heart! No more infantile fork-stabs at the plate of kid-intellectualism! No more Wikipedia pages on thoughts that can swallow computers whole! I'm killing my darlings for the sake of art, for the sake of sanity - what a paradox. Blood is flowing. I'm a murderer of ideas tonight - today I will write about many of life's very few truths. Like trees. Like soil. These are the only constants in mathematics. These are the identities. In my garden, I reach out to crush an almost-crimson hibiscus. Petals squelching with skin and nectar - no perfume. The hibiscus roils, unliving. Red pulpy mess; heart out of chest.

37

Gooder and Badder Bedder and fadder What are Americans saying? Boddle of wadder Mudder and fodder What is this game we are playing? Funner and betterer, Pitcher and ledder They expect folks to unnerstan Gimmes and wannabes Mundees though Sundees A hunnert and ten grand. Gooder and Badder Bedder and fadder What are Americans saying? Reedikullis and eeleegull Furrin kinds of peepul Should learn American English Even when it’s ignernt, And sounds a bit differnt, A definite ***** to distinguish. Boddle of wadder Mudder and fodder What is this game we are playing? Inneresting innerlopers Drunky ***** goat ropers That’s what they think strangers are. Our dippy high schoo dropouts Don’t care what education’s about And only care about today’s sports stars. Gooder and Badder Bedder and fadder What are Americans saying? Boddle of wadder Mudder and fodder What is this game we are playing?

0

May 14, 2018

May 14, 2018 at 6:50 PM UTC

brent-kincaid

AMERICAN IDIOM

Gooder and Badder Bedder and fadder What are Americans saying? Boddle of wadder Mudder and fodder What is this game we are playing? Funner and betterer, Pitcher and ledder They expect folks to unnerstan Gimmes and wannabes Mundees though Sundees A hunnert and ten grand. Gooder and Badder Bedder and fadder What are Americans saying? Reedikullis and eeleegull Furrin kinds of peepul Should learn American English Even when it’s ignernt, And sounds a bit differnt, A definite ***** to distinguish. Boddle of wadder Mudder and fodder What is this game we are playing? Inneresting innerlopers Drunky ***** goat ropers That’s what they think strangers are. Our dippy high schoo dropouts Don’t care what education’s about And only care about today’s sports stars. Gooder and Badder Bedder and fadder What are Americans saying? Boddle of wadder Mudder and fodder What is this game we are playing?

36

So full are their mouths with words, That they drip with noxious honey and sweet bile. Their brains and ears are clogged with ideas. As they spew forth their own knowledge, The din of their endless monologues is so great that they hear nought but themselves And thus themselves they shall always be.

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Aug 28, 2021

Aug 28, 2021 at 9:24 PM UTC

FrederickNihil

The Brightest Among Us

So full are their mouths with words, That they drip with noxious honey and sweet bile. Their brains and ears are clogged with ideas. As they spew forth their own knowledge, The din of their endless monologues is so great that they hear nought but themselves And thus themselves they shall always be.

6

My faith in humanity Is a spectrum of 'what the fuck' to 'I guess thats a silver lining' As wicked thoughts populate And feed Ignorance's beast I find myself more Alien than before The true arogance, was believing That a such frailty of thought was Subject to times much longer ago Every step forward, multiplies the path I take an inch and indifference goes a mile A cycle of discouragement for truth But here we are, not immovable or pristine Nor immune to corruption or hatred Only difference is I'm still fighting just the same

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Nov 29, 2016

Nov 29, 2016 at 12:18 AM UTC

devin-ortiz

Onwards to Forever

My faith in humanity Is a spectrum of 'what the fuck' to 'I guess thats a silver lining' As wicked thoughts populate And feed Ignorance's beast I find myself more Alien than before The true arogance, was believing That a such frailty of thought was Subject to times much longer ago Every step forward, multiplies the path I take an inch and indifference goes a mile A cycle of discouragement for truth But here we are, not immovable or pristine Nor immune to corruption or hatred Only difference is I'm still fighting just the same

15

Solving by a flame, I must be so happy When born into the world. Burning on from millennia, Passion breathes all birth And end And everything in-between. Welded by the inferno, My face molds to a mask: Chalk-white as paper skin, Flakey strips for lips— My expression alarms. Into light, I have projected death Into shallow screens With verbose screams. Emerges towers of babel, False prophets come as i. From the pit to the crucifix, My corpus, my words, Spreads so thin As a caricature of God. I am heresy, I am the gnostic, I am conviction For and against truth. I am stripped conviction Of inanity and insanity Behind and between Intemperate intellectualism. Held up to heaven, My head is afoot and upturned in disorder. I have seen, In violent retribution, The vehement falsehoods of it all. I fall to turn To watchers— Those who churn My melted body To the callous grounds. In perfervid ********** Burdens strap to backs And i hold this as novelty. From its forever conflicts— Agon of life and fore, Bodies are torrid And these ravishments break. I drown in flaring flagrance, It bleeds me dry— These torrid bones of mine. These final gasps For air to dust, I die to an untrue hand. By a crooked hand, My voice is seized From an inflamed throat. I lie, Ardent, Ad a martyr— My life and death Has been pretension.

0

Jan 30, 2025

Jan 30, 2025 at 12:57 AM UTC

Please

Pretension

Solving by a flame, I must be so happy When born into the world. Burning on from millennia, Passion breathes all birth And end And everything in-between. Welded by the inferno, My face molds to a mask: Chalk-white as paper skin, Flakey strips for lips— My expression alarms. Into light, I have projected death Into shallow screens With verbose screams. Emerges towers of babel, False prophets come as i. From the pit to the crucifix, My corpus, my words, Spreads so thin As a caricature of God. I am heresy, I am the gnostic, I am conviction For and against truth. I am stripped conviction Of inanity and insanity Behind and between Intemperate intellectualism. Held up to heaven, My head is afoot and upturned in disorder. I have seen, In violent retribution, The vehement falsehoods of it all. I fall to turn To watchers— Those who churn My melted body To the callous grounds. In perfervid ********** Burdens strap to backs And i hold this as novelty. From its forever conflicts— Agon of life and fore, Bodies are torrid And these ravishments break. I drown in flaring flagrance, It bleeds me dry— These torrid bones of mine. These final gasps For air to dust, I die to an untrue hand. By a crooked hand, My voice is seized From an inflamed throat. I lie, Ardent, Ad a martyr— My life and death Has been pretension.

62

The leash as a box full of the wrong tools on purpose. Elegiac prosaic synesthetic turbulence. A hamburger that DIDN'T resemble Winston Churchill. Mental imagery sacred or beloved A rainbow. Painted waterfall. A watermelon. 13 lbs of Cheez **** squeezed from its cans. We don't try and teach beauty. The old country. And the country's even older than that. Beautiful monkeys. Sleek and grooming. Made of pure crack ******* Flamingos for the yard.. Hippopotamus toothbrush. Calling. Discarded calling cards. Losing lottery scratchers. Litter. Waste deep . Waiting. Drifting deleterious and delicious. Flocculent enamored nullibiety Deliquesces Erroneous flamboyance to a Turnbuckle cadence. There you were an ostrich with no eyelashes . loved love and loving, Lunchbox desire . No hunger. Why look too hard or try to understand ? ; when the price tag isn't an explanation. There's no such thing as nothing from nothing. Redundancy, rhythm or repetition ? The question, the box, the lie. And the bigger box that it came in. Mouths in entirety , down. Exotic plastic desperation... pre-school connections given up, Up. Lottery dreams pre-lost, organically kind and loser efficient if you don't think about it. Waste-deep the hippie , our shared sweet spot. Any lower and you all drown. Any higher and you must explain yourself. “Deleterious and delicious” superimposed as intellectual. thesis . Poison frosting ****** Medicine wrapped sugar - death static. discarded Miles Davis accolades unwarranted , heaps of Warhols used appropriately as diarrhea toilet paper and nothing was lost. or gained as they Jackson Pollacked our way back into inane superficial supposition ... Spoon fed greatness inseparable from talentless wank , SOLD ! True talent feels Greek tragedy heroic in the most ineffable way among obstacles that just don't care. Given Pro- wrestling bell rhythms for lobotomy lullabies. Thud, pause, blood, applause. loosed from their earthly bounds as ****** drenched folding chairs. That eyelashless ostrich hurts more than it shows. Slick wet Naked-eye so black. Unnatural and vulnerable. Inappropriate feminine attributions. Love and loving stacked like mismatched discolored Tupperware Soiled and abused so many times enjoyed . Languid lunchbox libido pre packaged useless desire . Want without hunger. Fuel for lost consumers bath- robed and slippers ; bleary eyed and dead inside... It ends almost perfectly for a living wiggly waving inflatable air tube clown. when something comes from nothing. The mirror not hungry is not empty.

0

Jan 25

Jan 25, 2026 at 1:40 AM UTC

OldeMrHoover

Where is the "Self" that is being expressed ?

The leash as a box full of the wrong tools on purpose. Elegiac prosaic synesthetic turbulence. A hamburger that DIDN'T resemble Winston Churchill. Mental imagery sacred or beloved A rainbow. Painted waterfall. A watermelon. 13 lbs of Cheez **** squeezed from its cans. We don't try and teach beauty. The old country. And the country's even older than that. Beautiful monkeys. Sleek and grooming. Made of pure crack ******* Flamingos for the yard.. Hippopotamus toothbrush. Calling. Discarded calling cards. Losing lottery scratchers. Litter. Waste deep . Waiting. Drifting deleterious and delicious. Flocculent enamored nullibiety Deliquesces Erroneous flamboyance to a Turnbuckle cadence. There you were an ostrich with no eyelashes . loved love and loving, Lunchbox desire . No hunger. Why look too hard or try to understand ? ; when the price tag isn't an explanation. There's no such thing as nothing from nothing. Redundancy, rhythm or repetition ? The question, the box, the lie. And the bigger box that it came in. Mouths in entirety , down. Exotic plastic desperation... pre-school connections given up, Up. Lottery dreams pre-lost, organically kind and loser efficient if you don't think about it. Waste-deep the hippie , our shared sweet spot. Any lower and you all drown. Any higher and you must explain yourself. “Deleterious and delicious” superimposed as intellectual. thesis . Poison frosting ****** Medicine wrapped sugar - death static. discarded Miles Davis accolades unwarranted , heaps of Warhols used appropriately as diarrhea toilet paper and nothing was lost. or gained as they Jackson Pollacked our way back into inane superficial supposition ... Spoon fed greatness inseparable from talentless wank , SOLD ! True talent feels Greek tragedy heroic in the most ineffable way among obstacles that just don't care. Given Pro- wrestling bell rhythms for lobotomy lullabies. Thud, pause, blood, applause. loosed from their earthly bounds as ****** drenched folding chairs. That eyelashless ostrich hurts more than it shows. Slick wet Naked-eye so black. Unnatural and vulnerable. Inappropriate feminine attributions. Love and loving stacked like mismatched discolored Tupperware Soiled and abused so many times enjoyed . Languid lunchbox libido pre packaged useless desire . Want without hunger. Fuel for lost consumers bath- robed and slippers ; bleary eyed and dead inside... It ends almost perfectly for a living wiggly waving inflatable air tube clown. when something comes from nothing. The mirror not hungry is not empty.

55