#mediocre
Há anos nasci
Porém pouco vivi
Vidas criei
Nenhum retorno ganhei
Na sombra de minhas cinzas deixei que vivessem
Suas vidas medíocres
E sem sentido que os dei
Jul 23, 2024
Jul 23, 2024 at 11:42 PM UTC
I'm no one of note
Just a mediocre bloke
Your run of the mill common folk,
Shiit kickin', suburban cowpoke
Someone not even I would pretend to promote
Dreamscapes often bleak and remote
You probably do what I don't,
Can do what I can't,
Will do what I won't
Sunk my personal rescue boat,
Fleeing the scene,
Trying to free myself from myself with little hope
Got caught up in a well known insecurity mote
The dangerous cesspool where the mindless float
Where I often mope
You might think that's the conclusion,
But nope
You'll know when
This story's about to end
At the first mention
Of the proper tension
For a danglin' hangin' rope
©2024
Apr 15, 2024
Apr 15, 2024 at 12:52 PM UTC
*Somewhere between
Tears and smiles
Simplicity and styles
Somewhere between
Earth and sky
Bold and shy
Somewhere between
Vogue and ethnicity
Chaos and tranquility
Somehow we are
Little weak but strong
We get along*
Oct 7, 2023
Oct 7, 2023 at 12:56 PM UTC
the sailing stones
were thought to be
a phenomenon
it was incomprehensible
that a rock
the inanimate
of all inanimates
should show signs
of movement
here was mystique
here was mystery
perhaps a message
left by
cosmic energies
or
higher beings
undecipherable
unexplainable
there could have been
beauty
in never knowing
in letting
the idea remain
pure
untainted
restorative
alas
we cannot bear
the unexplained;
where the miraculous
is founded
in uncertainty
we must probe
and pry
until an answer
is found
whether for benefit
betterment
or
hindrance
perhaps a balance
can be found
between the known
and what remains
acceptably unknown
before
the intrigue
and enchantment
are marred by
the bland
the sterile
the prosaic
Apr 13, 2022
Apr 13, 2022 at 9:53 AM UTC
It's in the struggle of achieving dreams where adversity introduces a man to himself.
Those are the same moments where you brawl with the inadequacies that plague you. The grotesque sight of failed expectations and debacles that burden your mental like a clogged bathtub.
I've met myself on many occasions in the heat of adversity.
Each man different than the last, because I rejected each mediocre version of myself and demanded more - better!
I have done this until there was no more to meet.
I can't tell you who I am, but for the first time in many moons...I have met the person I worked so hard to be and just for a brief moment, I can finally be content with who I am.
Nov 17, 2021
Nov 17, 2021 at 6:37 AM UTC
W*hy am I me?
I had a chance
to turn into many
But why did I get
stuck with me
this version,
there are so many bugs
I am always lagging
behind
Often I freeze midway
I am seldom muted
the voice quality
is so mediocre
the display so
unsatisfactory
why this me*?
Jul 28, 2020
Jul 28, 2020 at 1:17 PM UTC
In this Ordinary Swoon
by Michael R. Burch
In this ordinary swoon
as I pass from life to death,
I feel no heat from the cold, pale moon;
I feel no sympathy for breath.
Who I am and why I came,
I do not know; nor does it matter.
The end of every man’s the same
and every god’s as mad as a hatter.
I do not fear the letting go;
I only fear the clinging on
to hope when there’s no hope, although
I lift my face to the blazing sun
and feel the greater intensity
of the wilder inferno within me.
Keywords/Tags: swoon, life, death, ordinary, commonplace, usual, average, mediocre, inferno, intensity, passion, cool, cold, pale, moon, blazing, sun
Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 3:30 AM UTC
Dizzy feeling
Staring at the ceiling
Cool and white
Could it feel my spite
Try to Speak
Words come out so bleak
Running for the door
Both feet escape the cold floor
Fresh air
To keep me from ripping out my hair
Breathing begins to quicken
I’m starting to feel sick and
Helpless once again
Go outside
Trying to hide
In the moonlight
No happiness in sight
Climbing into the pool
Feeling like such a fool
Cool, yet warm water surrounds me
I think of the sea
Begging for an answer
To stop being such a hopeless romancer
Needing a sign
Before deciding it’s time
To give it all away
No one left to beg me to stay
Needing a sign
This can’t be my time
This can’t be my last day
A shooting star says stay
I do
Didn’t have a clue
I stayed
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 10:02 AM UTC
thanks to the basketful of maybe's
i collected
when we were one
it would seem
i'd be well equipped to deal
with the next one's indecisiveness
oh well.
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 2:43 PM UTC
I call out
To a shallow cave
And in return
I get a shallow reply
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 11:29 AM UTC
I read a disturbing truth someone questioned on the internet,
“the world didn’t end in 2012, but since then have you truly felt alive?”
I don’t wish to presume, but I would be more than willing to bet
that you feel the same, that you’ve fully lost your drive.
Marking calendars like clockwork, each box an imposing X,
but you’ve lost your absolute and essential favourite red pen.
We live as NPC’s but I’d like to believe we’re far more complex,
though we make the same mistake over and over again.
No sun burnt out, no moon fell,
but I swear the galaxy has changed,
we’re dazed and living under a spell,
our lifestyle’s completely deranged.
There was deviation from the reservation
that fate held out for us.
Abandoned salvation for sedation
the golden pastures have turned to dust.
But there’s got to be a link between worlds.
I know there’s growth in destruction
instead I loathe interruption.
Can silence be considered a confrontation?
I know there’s redemption in healing,
but I take each hit without showing feeling.
Can violence be considered mediation?
Decipher every word’s meaning
while performing spring cleaning
we’re all the same; we just want a good purge.
Ignoring every clear right sign
but complain about the fuzzy line
the one that’s crossed when you can’t resist the urge.
No sun burnt out, no stars died,
but the dimensions sure are blurring.
Auto pilot’s on and gravity’s been defied,
and no one sees this all occurring.
There was deviation from the reservation,
that fate held out for us.
I trade motivation for inebriation,
the golden pastures have turned to rust.
But there’s got to be a link between worlds.
Time isn’t so strong when you can break the clock
you know it’s possible to push back the hands.
For fate is chosen but destiny you can mock
from the deep seas to the hottest sands.
The past is already written
the ink is already dry.
The fire’s already been lit and
the flames are reaching towards the sky.
I’ve explored every emotional cave
and I’ve trekked through every lonely field.
When you’re scared it’s the only time you can be brave,
so grab your sword and don’t forget your shield.
No sun burnt out, no seas ran dry,
but the world suddenly stopped turning.
the world’s a game and life’s a lie,
but we must keep internal fires burning.
There was deviation from the reservation
that fate held out for us,
I replace meditation with self deprecation
the golden pastures I no longer trust.
But there’s got to be a link between worlds.
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 6:39 PM UTC
Yearning
to be something i'm not
to be someone i'm not
Artistic
what does that mean
does it mean I can articulate my feelings
beautifully
does it mean I can sing
or dance
or rhyme
or cry
or read
or breathe
or love
beautifully?
I don't think I can
how sad
that i'm not artistic
how sad
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 10:23 PM UTC
If this car crashed right now
I would die
But the other people in this car don't deserve to die
If I were to jump out of this car right now
I would die
But the other people in this car don't deserve that guilt
So I sit
I stay in this car and I will be in this car for the rest of my mediocre life
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 9:24 PM UTC
I would choose to have
one really good friend
over of a thousand mediocre friends.
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 7:20 PM UTC
Doom myself to mediocrity,
Doom myself for good.
Raise myself to excellence,
Sacrifice my good.
Try to make a difference,
Gladly - if I could.
Is all that’s left to settle?
I won’t accept it though I should.
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 7:19 PM UTC
My Baby:
Don't be too quiet yet don't be too shrill,
Don't be too restless, but neither too still,
Please grow up hardy, yet soft to the touch,
Not seeking too little, nor asking too much.
Years later …
My Child:
Don't be precocious, yet don't be too shy,
The middle-sized apple of you father’s eye,
Don't be too forthright, nor keep to yourself,
Don't be too daring; but care for your health.
Years later …
My Son:
Don't aim too high, nor get stuck in a hole,
Nor hang back if offered an uninspired role,
Please don't take the high road or even the low,
The main road is best ... not too fast or too slow.
Years later …
My Epitaph:
Here lies a man, who knew how to conform,
Who never left harbour, for fear of a storm,
Avoiding the hot and the cold for lukewarm,
In loving, but not too loving, memory,
Of your only son ... Norm.
Jun 19, 2017
Jun 19, 2017 at 4:45 PM UTC
I'd be better off with a refund
Despite my own compunctions
I've mindlessly tossed the receipt
I guess that idea is defunct, then
I'll settle with the damaged product
It has to be worth something
If anything I should know by now
How tattered things still function
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 11:27 PM UTC
For an excessively passive person
I'm easily annoyed, easily appalled.
People are so stupid, vapid, mediocre
and you know its true so you try to
be deep and meaningful, dramatic
to justify how absolutely and inevitably
pathetic you are.
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 11:44 PM UTC
I don't want no mediocre love,
give me more of a 1 corinthians 13.
I need to know you'll draw nearer when heavy or small storms come,
not lose your sh*t, get scared of the thunder and leave.
See, love is a learning thing and we'll need water for it to grow,
we can't just plant our seed, walk away and expect it to grow on its own.
We've gotta clear the pathways, rewire and connect inside our domes, because without communication we'll both feel as if we're all alone.
But if forever can be seen within the roots, then no storm will ever be hard to get through.
I said it's all about forever, it's all about the roots.
If they're deep enough then there's no storm that will be too rough, and love will not be moved.
So give me that 1 corinthians 13 and we'll till the ground and build from a strong foundation.
Any other type just won't feel right, and will only be wasting our time.
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 6:39 PM UTC