"boisterously" poems
Love hard, my friends. Love noticeably.
Love does not deserve to be shoved under the rug, to be disguised, or to be quieted. Love does not mean conforming to the idea that genuine affection is “sappy,” “cheesy,” or “cringeworthy”; instead-- love loudly.
The world wants to tell you that relationships are to be silenced. That posting multiple photographs of each other is tacky, uncomfortable, and something to make fun of. That devoting time with your favorite human being is disgusting, overbearing-- especially when you are young and the future does not exist in your hands.
Too bad, future. And how unfortunate, world. Because at the end of the day, the world does not own love. You do. It is yours to have, to keep, to share, and to do whatever it takes to hold onto it. It is mine.
When you find love, shout it from the rooftops and frame a million photographs. Post selfies of the two of you smiling wide and unwavering. Wear its colors on your face and shamelessly declare it to the whole universe and beyond: You are in love. You are alive.
And likewise, this is my philosophy: Love intentionally, fiercely, tirelessly.
Love so hard it makes people dizzy. Take it as a compliment. In an exhausted world that spins with violence, hatred, and monstrosity-- praise its joys. Snap those pictures.Tell your friends. Scrapbook it, publish it, make art out of it. Laugh about it, display it, live it. Put an end to the grotesque concept that something so beautiful, perhaps life’s most magnificent, should be sheltered. Let it grow.
This is a declaration. I am boisterously in love. There is no quiet here.
One day, you will find someone or something that your heart will never be able to shut up about. And that’s okay. Let it scream.
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 9:33 AM UTC
Can someone tell the folks upstairs
That their floor is my ceiling.
They stomp about,
Scream and shout.
In a fleet,
They drag their feet.
They tap dance in their hall,
And cause my crockery to fall.
While they boisterously shake,
I'm forced to stay awake.
They slam their doors,
and I settle scores,
By returning a 'thud',
Which goes unheard.
And finally when they clamber to bed,
I thank my stars and think in my head,
Those noisy wrecks,
Are a pain in our necks,
I would have loved them more,
Had they lived on another floor.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 6:13 AM UTC
It takes little more than a kind word
To carry me through a month
To hold me up against battle
To force me, against trials, to triumph.
It takes little more than genuine praise
To burn a soul to memory
To lose all sense of proper speech
To fly unbound and freely.
And with a word comes a smile
I can't get it off my face
With a word comes gratitude
So potent my hands shake.
With a word comes a flattered feeling
That blossoms just under my ribs
With a word comes a jittery, happy panic
On which I cannot put a lid.
I laugh boisterously
I forget my usual frown
With a word I am lifted
And I will never come back down.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
A perturbed philosoper perches precariously atop a pedestal, preaching in poetic prose of the pernicious pitfalls of man's avowal to avarice; as a braindead banker bellows "BUY BONDS!" and boasts boisterously of his brand new Bugatti.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 6:33 PM UTC
My wounds bleed war paint and
there’s an air of mischief on your tongue.
When chaos propels itself on our sweet plans
we are reminded of our wavering energy to hiss past the unexpected.
An appetite for freedom can’t sustain starving artists.
I often imagine life as a black and white silent film.
Those rust-tinted spectacles stay concrete on the bridge of my nose,
Dancing giraffe-men on stilts boisterously
taunt the congressman on his crackberry,
ask him what he’s livin’ for.
Give me your half-drawn dreams to hide in, give me your blood.
Because mosquitoes never tire of kicking you when you’re at your lowest.
Give me your childhood ambitions and carefree summer nights, and
you’ve got guts, kid,
you’ve got guts,
to careen over rooftops in search of a paradise.
Sway in narrow alleyways in the major cities and
feel the warmth of life occurring.
Jun 1, 2011
Jun 1, 2011 at 5:34 PM UTC
Stay, season of calm love and soulful snows!
There is a subtle sweetness in the sun,
The ripples on the stream's breast gaily run,
The wind more boisterously by me blows,
And each succeeding day now longer grows.
The birds a gladder music have begun,
The squirrel, full of mischief and of fun,
From maples' topmost branch the brown twig throws.
I read these pregnant signs, know what they mean:
I know that thou art making ready to go.
Oh stay! I fled a land where fields are green
Always, and palms wave gently to and fro,
And winds are balmy, blue brooks ever sheen,
To ease my heart of its impassioned woe.
1.9k
Standing, soaked, out in a storm, gusts of wind whipping my hair around wildly
Unruly strands sway with the song of chaos, pulling at my scalp, snapping, lashing at my face
My existence is all reality as this whirlwind tempest frantically thrashes about my flesh
In the complex puzzles and foolish games, a simple madness lives, and therein lies my freedom
My tongue and lips sometimes flap boisterously from their spot on my face
And the noises risen up from my throat, and passed through my mouth are meaningless blubberings
Involuntarily, I grin, tasting the nonsense's unique sweetness, and I swallow
My laughter rings out, a vociferous and untameable sound; humor, the voice of a crazy woman
And I spin! Oh, I spin and spin and spin, savagely, in ellipses, ovals, and circle shapes
I've no shame, and this dance is all mine, so I maniacally fling my arms through the air
And as my body makes its revolutions, a fierce smile curves the shape of my lips, wrinkles the corners of my eyes
Inside my mind, wandering - wondering if there's any real difference between elated insanity and that which I crave...
Some people might use words such as eccentric, strange, whimsical, and peculiar for what they cannot understand
So very often I hear these such words being used from those who speak of me
But it is them whom I perceive as being rather off, so habitual and boring, living like routine enslaved, joyless zombies
So unfathomable to me, why most everyone seems to desire nothing beyond a passionless, hollow schedule to, every day, just repeat
Me... I'll race barefoot down a gravel path, through lightning, thunder, and rain, only to feel my hair being twisted and tangled up in the wind
I'll jabber absurdities, laugh like a loon, all while I spin contentedly around and around, until, stupidly dizzy, I crash and fall
Madness pays little mind, stands without worries or concerns, because it believes - it knows, most nothing matters
This is my freedom, freedom that cannot be shared, for what it is, is something that's only freeing for me...
~A. D. Smithson MARCH 2013
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 4:58 AM UTC
I've talked about things before that people consider to be dark
I've never thought of them that way
I guess I would consider them gray
before any other color though
but when I think about beautiful hues, I remember heather
and when I see clouds in the sky
and I scrunch up my face real small while the rain flies
I think it's beautiful weather.
So while everybody puts on their protection:
raincoats and galoshes
umbrellas that sheild washes
I'll put on a cardigan and get covered in shivers
and I'll lay in the middle of the road
and pretend I'm floating in rivers
Goosebumps will be my second layer
They'll make my skin thicker
and the rain will wash the tears off of my face
and nobody will be able to tell that I was crying in the first place
and I'll laugh all boisterously
and hardiness will fill my diaphragm
and I'll scream for no reason at all
I'll scream that I would rather love that I hate how I am
than to hate that I love how I am
I will look at everyone around me
staring at me
arms folded and crunched
hidden under their plastic cape
afraid of being cold
okay with being weak
and reliant on umbrellas for protection;
shadowing faces that are disgruntled and meek
I'll realize they have no idea
how it feels to grow thick skin of goose pimples
and to have agony washed away
and to float in rivers in the road
and to be the only thing in a world of complexity
that is lowly and simple
They probably think that they know how it feels to laugh
because they do it at parties and gatherings
But those are only chuckles
Because they never release their knuckles
They're always clenching them in restraint or force
Everybody should laugh in the rain
and not be afraid of tears in the eyes of the sun
because they'll only get washed away
nobody will know
I promise.
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 6:53 PM UTC
Was driving
To shivaraathri manappuram [1]
With idichakkas [2]
To meet you
One day.
Enroute
To a vow made one life
The two chakka dumpkins
Their smug demeanor
Drove me to chuckles.
Like guys
On a global tour
They
Waved buddies bubye
Babbled on
To the jackfruit trees
On the boulevard
Singing “salaama salaama…”
The jackfruit rap
Boisterously.
I was beside myself
With laughter.
The exertion
Exhausted my cheeks
I stopped near a shop
For a cigarette
Saw there,
Two packets
Of fried chakka chips
Among other snacks.
My chakka dumpkins
For you
Overwhelmed them
They broke into tears
They recalled
Their haughty ride
In a car once
Singing salama
A festering past
That throbbed with
The agony
Of getting torn to shreds
Of getting fried crisp
In boiling oil.
The chakka dumpkins
Were dumbstruck
They stopped singing
And began to cry
Looking upon their sisters
Sister, you have forgotten me!
An utterance from Khasak
Muffled the scene.
Sad at their plight
I held them close
My chakka dumpkins
For you
Forget it honey
Forget it dear
I patted them
Trying to stop their tears.
The chakka fries
And my darlings
Continued weeping
And wailing.
I smoked a cigarette
Went to them
And whispered in their ears
That I am consigning them
To you.
They laughed innocently
Showing their gums
They bid adieu to
The sisters
Promising
They would meet next life
I felt like
Laughing
And crying.
Laughing
And crying
I sang
Salama, salama
Salama….
Translation : Shyma P
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 2:04 PM UTC
To reiterate,
Words filling contagious information
into the keener ears of degenerate people
While elsewhere,
leaving scars deep enough
to catch rain water
that can’t be drunk
to soothe the uneasiness
A girl was ***** the day before
GANGED - the headlines boisterously boasted
my fine countrymen on their best behavior
I thought
It’s not a mystery how lightly
they take to such things here
the average *** smoker rots for 10 years
while the ****** gets 4 before he walks
Capital justice
grass involves more money
who’s gonna pay to **** someone?
degenerates waiting on call
Asking for the unreasonable
while selling me a thought
sugar coated and studded with half truths
to turn with the big wheel
and stare atrocity in the eye, eyes closed
Able bodied souls handicap themselves
to perpetuate the cycle of corruption
the wondrous mechanics of our modern world
can’t put a price on dignity
so we boycott what doesn’t benefit us
Is that our reality
or just something I read?
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 5:56 AM UTC
I'm beautiful.
I'm beautiful because I said I am.
I'm beautiful because my eyes crinkle when I throw my head back and laugh boisterously at a stupid joke I made myself.
I'm beautiful when I smile lazily and my double chin peeks through the polaroid that effortlessly captures my features.
I'm beautiful because, after many years of being told I don't fit into the spectrum of socially accepted beauty, I laughed and told them to **** off.
I'm beautiful because all the years of self-loathing and self-doubt erased the moment I said I'm beautiful.
I'm beautiful and there isn't a soul alive who can convince me otherwise.
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 12:37 AM UTC
asoftquietafore;
B OO M!
grunting swirl. the speakers speak intangible friction
who's so slightly an empirical fever
nursing gratuitously the male flavors encumbering
the ego flecked freckles *** lisping
elegantly cambered waists shrines of molten ecstasy
but my lady niggles sporadic splinters in my sheath
and i
splay the courageous night
and penetrate her plaintive giggle
andrideayellowbuckingmetal
to her supreme station
and palm her credibly
with every effect of my huddled fibers
where she is gently wet
a winsome hollow
in where
is
springhotlycaked light boisterously exploding
and a pink breaking every other colour
i slave mightily to it's hairless stubble and i stumble
rightly dumb
at her close cut whisper
slanting ardently a moist bolt of night
aggressively passive
and patient
she cups my puddle
and
with
lips
purely dirt
she scrapes me perfect
Dec 27, 2010
Dec 27, 2010 at 10:57 AM UTC
The wind careers across the years
Gathering leaves and dust,
Sweeping lives before it
In cartwheels of redness and rust.
Epiphanous moments of magnitude
Through special occasions employ
The will o the wisp of everyday stuff
From sadness to anger to joy.
The billowing tumble of living
Through vaulting halls of trees
In the dappled light of sunshine
And green corridors of breeze.
The exquisiteness of living
When senses soar in the air
When the colours of being are rampant
And we savour each moment with care.
For the living time goes quickly
It flares and fades with speed,
‘Tis best enjoyed boisterously
With passion, love and need;
‘Tis best when tasted piquantly
Like a claret on the tongue
When you cloak the days with good things
And you hope your dreams die young.
Marshalg
@ the Gate
Mangere Bridge
29th January 2009
Nov 28, 2009
Nov 28, 2009 at 8:51 PM UTC
.
*If I call to you,
above the crashing waves
boisterously gathering
on a rocky coastline,
like a trumpet in the mist
cutting through the fog
signaling a safe passage
to my heart,
do you hear me?
If I send out echoes
of promises made
and lifeline affections,
floating as a buoy,
a vessel of desire
reaching for you
on these stormy seas,
can you hear me?
If I am left stranded, marooned
in the silence of my tears
alone, without you
on a desolate island where
seashells have no names and
tides retreat from the sorrow
of my broken heart, pleading for you,
will you hear me,
please?*
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 2:35 PM UTC
The rage I feel
At the loss of one so fine!
So young, so lovely, so calm, so together...so KIM!
I rage at the turbulent waters that stole her promise.
I rage at the annals of chance which paved the way to her end.
I rage for the agony I see on the face of her father, her lover, friends and work mates.
I rage for the tears and heartbreak of my darling wife who loved this girl as a sister, since her days of skinny
childhood.
I rage for the missed moments of tomorrow’s laughter which will now, never be...
and the vacuum of fun in her words of dry humour, which will now, never be uttered.
I share this rage with ALL OF YOU!...because the death of this beautiful young girl IS JUST NOT RIGHT!
But I DO CELEBRATE the GIFT of the PLEASURE experienced in sharing her vibrant, living years.
There is, however, a wonderment here amidst the tragedy...
Because Kim voluntarily bequeathed the gift of hope to unknown others.
She gave three unknown people her organs, her heart, her kidneys, her cornea.
SHE GAVE THEM THE PROMISE OF A TOMORROW!
Her beautiful heart lives on in the soul of another...and for this I give thanks.
THE WINDS OF LIFE
by Marshal Gebbie
The wind careers across the years
Gathering leaves and dust,
Sweeping lives before it
In cartwheels of redness and rust.
Epiphanous moments of magnitude
Through special occasions employ
The will o the wisp of everyday stuff
From sadness to anger to joy.
The billowing tumble of living
Through vaulting halls of trees
In the dappled light of sunshine
And green corridors of breeze.
The exquisiteness of living
When senses soar in the air
When the colours of being are rampant
And we savour each moment with care.
For the living time goes quickly
It flares and fades with speed,
‘Tis best enjoyed boisterously
With passion, love and need;
‘Tis best when tasted piquantly
Like a claret on the tongue
When you cloak the days with good things
And you hope your dreams die young.
Marshalg
@ the Gate
Mangere Bridge
29th January 2009
Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 10:27 PM UTC
the pain
of having to let you
go your way
after such loving days
pulls my face
into a joyous smile
makes me speak
words of reassurance
crack jokes
ostentatiously enjoy
a Manhattan at lunch time
and boisterously hug you
au revoir
anything
to overcome
unshed tears
the hardening lump in my chest
the tightening knot in my stomach
the cold fist that grips my neck
tightens my throat
makes my eyes dry
with the knowledge
you will not be
by my side
for weeks
* * *
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 8:28 PM UTC
Now all I want you to do, is read these words carefully, Real slow, not boisterously,
cos there is a reason why I write all this. What other option do I have really than being silent, as my hope now walks on the bed of sweltering embers.
You always try to fool me with your words.... They are really short and sweet, But now……now I know what they actually mean. I am lost in the maze of walls around your mind, trying to figure a way inside,
I am really confused, there is no escape, there is no way outside. Let me tell you one thing, that I am not going to cry, ‘Cos I know that someday everything will be alright.
Brighter than thousand suns is your smile, But when the cold reality dawns upon me, that its not for me.... Deep inside it’s like a needle piercing my heart, It gets torn apart........... I don’t know whether all this makes sense to u or not, All I ever wanted was you to be mine……… But why cant you hear the perpetual cry of my rusted heart?
Why don’t you see that my words are genuine? Can’t u see the sincerity in what I say? Why don’t you believe in me? You always take my breath away............. Should I be euphoric, as I know you Or should I cry that you don’t know me. Look what you have done...... look what I have become Will there be no end to this suffocation?
My head explodes with the hundred questions that I want to ask For hours and hours I waited for you near that road till dusk, I wasn’t pretending that I had gone astray. Now……I will die convincing that I don’t care, I can fool others, but what about myself? Surely this is not going to be easy, Because my world twirls when I have to accept this reality.
Tell me what should be done to assure you that I will be always there for you Tell me is there a way I can know you more than I already do. Now you really ought to believe me, I want you to have the time of your life, I want you to smile. If you ever see what I intend you to see, I will be always there for you at the end of those roads. That’s all I wanted to say, as of now..... Now......... I am getting out of my words
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 1:11 AM UTC
you got this rattle in your chest
like the timing belt in your heart's been limping towards death since birth
it always hurt to listen to
so here
here's the message at the bottom of the bottle
you spend so many nights studying
as if perhaps
you might actually remember what it read when the sun assaults your head come morning
here's what you been begging every fair-haired eve to whimper
as you slip her a dose of your hand-crafted love-sludge on her boyfriend's couch
this is the truth i learned about you seven years ago
while you spilled your guts on my favorite boots
you really were cute
all campfire-light and anguish as you visably contemplated introducing your hand to my chest
you're different
not just from me
but from everyone you meet in every pub on any street
and for some reason
you seem to think that means that they don't see you
they see you
you're scared
not of dissappointing onlookers
but of disappointing yourself in some manner you can't help
so you help yourself to whatever opportunity you can find
to exhibit boisterously the ******* you think they see you as
you're too smart to be so stupid
and you're hurt
i get it
i've heard your monsters howling through your head
everytime you ever used my bed to rest it
but that's not an excuse to pull the dumb **** that you do
that's not a reason to abandon whatever sense of self-worth you once grasped
oh
handsome boy
the wounds of your past are not handicaps
no
pain catalysts enlightenment
and i meant to tell you that night
'long the river in the fire light
that you're going to be alright
that you'll survive
so long as you give up the act that you're the only one who's ever felt like that
hurt just proves you've still got feeling
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 3:16 AM UTC
Smoke clouds smoulder the putrid sky,
capricious crowds rush hastily by.
Bricks and mortar for maculate miles,
the hustle and bustle; backwards smiles.
Eyes tamed vacant, tapered down;
a tracksuit warrior, wearing the town.
The city exhales, erupting with life;
it’s very beauty: boisterously wild.
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 5:44 AM UTC
if you were here i like to
think that i would yell, i
would scream (because
even after all of this i
haven't lost my will to
be boisterously loud) or
maybe I would hit you
(god I've never actually
put my hands on another
person unless it was soft
and meant "hey i love you
please don't leave me")
i just want you to feel the
thunderstorm tumbling inside
me how can i make you see
that how can i make you see
that how can i make you i
wanted to buy a house with
you, you ******* *******
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 3:29 AM UTC
I am lonely, as I so often seem to be
My mind flips over and under endlessly.
I think myself to heights then fling my body down
I scream and complain without my mouth making a sound.
Pridefully -endlessly prideful, as I am- I keep to myself
Because loneliness will never drive me to beg for another's help.
I'd rather stare outwards infinitely, fingers perched and ready to type
And wonder what part of the internet used to bring entertainment to life.
Self-sufficient in the way I always claimed to be, I whisper lonely into my hands
Then run for the door like it's a bug I must release, watching nervously at where it lands.
I dance with myself, giggle and smile, then peel of my face to observe
Because it isn't allowed to show what I can only disclose within written words.
An army of people who will never exist muddle through life inside my head
We speak and we smile and I am pitiful enough that it makes the emptiness less.
And less is livable, less is doable with stiff posture, a smile, and laughs
Less is easier, more simple, more viable to tote away than Too Much's trash.
If I straighten my back, smile with teeth, and laugh boisterously
If I open my arms and wait for company, who will I meet?
If I looked at every person as a new opportunity and not a danger to me
I wonder if I'd make enough friends to calm this feeling for a century?
Questions contain a vulnerability that has never once failed to disgust me.
Yet and still, I write them down because questions are the door to possibility.
And somehow, whether answered or unanswered these questions may be
I will walk away from the result into a crowd of people I will not greet.
I will be lonely.
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 7:26 AM UTC
ninety hours and I still can't sleep
can't close my eyes, no not a wink
melatonin still does not seep
into my brain. I'm on the edge, the brink
of plummeting fully into this wretched insanity.
I am no longer inside of my body, though
it does not make sense. what is this calamity?
this beast that eats my sleep continues to grow
day after excruciating day.
attempting to live, I fill my veins with caffeine.
all my nights I hope and pray
for some powerful force to pry away this screen
that keeps me away from my dreams
where at least my pain isn't real
and at least people aren't deaf to my screams
when everything is what I deeply feel
including my heart dragging its feet along, loosely tied to my lungs
and my head. all I hear is thump-thump
the throbbing as I fall down the rungs
of a ladder I'll never be able to climb
and no one I know understands how
I spend hours under the moon, calculating the time
to see how much I might get "if I fall asleep right now"
but I never can because my mind is boisterously loud
and though I plead with it to just calm down
it's volume remains as that of a needy crowd
so in the sleepless noise, I continue to drown...
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 9:54 PM UTC
Whenever I’m alone and seemed to be blown
Do you stay by my side and act as a pawn?
Whenever I like to stay beside you and follow whatever you do
It seems that you’re pushing me away to make me feel blue.
Whenever I have my problems, you’re the only one I call
But it seems that you’re always putting a wall
Whenever you have you’re problems I’m always there
But it seems that you don’t even seem to care.
Though I’m not the best friend you’re looking for
I can’t do anything about it but lend an open door
I like to ask you series of questions
To clear my mind’s doubts and frustrations.
I have done everything to satisfy you’re expectations
But it seems that you’re so blind too far from my dimension
I have tried to be the best friend of yours
But I failed to gratify your overpowering course.
I think I’m not the right best friend for you
Coz you’re so high even how hard I do.
But I think you don’t even seem to care
Being my best friend, you don’t even dare.
I know you have a new best friend
But remember I’ll never treat you as my fiend
You’ll remain my best friend whenever
Beyond Today, Beyond Tomorrow, Beyond Forever.
Though you treat me very rare
What important is that happiness for you is always there
Though it’s very obvious seeing me lonely
It hurts when I see you laugh boisterously and loudly.
I’m pleased for you and hope you’ll be blissful
Though you see me completely mournful
I hope you’ll always remember me
Cause I’ll be your best friend whatever time be.
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 5:02 PM UTC
It's finally here - the night of the year;
come inside for festive cheer.
Music playing, party hum,
stomach's churning - "What's to come?"
I'll settle down when I've been served -
won't be feeling so reserved.
As I turn my eyes above,
I get to see the sight I love.
Oh, my...
Pretty women in fine voice,
fit young men, if that's your choice,
but as I upward lift my eyes,
I know where my talent lies.
Like sacrifices, held in place -
slaves to non-existent grace.
Found a corner, taking stock;
still two hours 'til 12 o'clock.
DJ's making crazy sounds;
happy atmosphere abounds.
Two girls dancing by the tree -
does either of them think like me?
Time to gather for the chime;
almost time for "Auld Lang Syne".
Hands perversely beckoning;
it's the time of reckoning!
New year's dawning gets relayed;
see the beautiful cascade.
People grabbing what they're after;
night's alive with shrieks and laughter.
Then the festive bangs begin
to make a nice and naughty din.
Women glancing to the ground -
stepping on the things they've found.
Fingers crush their fragile prey;
rev'llers boisterously play.
People gaily greet their friends
with wishes for what 'morrow sends.
Soon we'll all be on our way -
another year, another day.
Ears a-ringing, sounds a-mix;
tonight I've really had my fix!
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC
Give me a sign you understand,
Pleasure my psyche with confirmation,
Twist and turn my moral brain,
Until it is worn to a bucket of mash.
This awkward bio examination you speak of,
Has it always been so complex?
My finicky brain seeks the resolution,
A solution to this core that is common.
How is it that man can be man,
If man evolves to entities beyond,
We are our own experiments of modern science,
Constantly analyzing data we have yet to comprehend.
A technician fails foolishly,
As another earns their Nobel Prize,
We are chosen to fit such devious survival tactics,
Though in our hearts we look at the consequence.
A quizzical I carelessly push aside,
Finding it easier to risk the perks,
A self made genius consistently preaching,
Superiority over those who are victims of doubt.
To have a mind like he,
Is devilish as much as it is holy,
We find vices that motivate illusions,
Created by those who are lost in time.
Figuring the start of a new,
As a new so boisterously grows old,
An aging sweet wine with sour grapes,
Contained in a waterlogged barrel that never ceases to replace.
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 3:38 AM UTC