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aldo kraas Aug 2021
Why am I  inflicting pain on others?
What did they do to me?
That makes me so angry?
And when i am angry I feel like i want to hit somebody
That is terrible
Because I am hurting the other people
And that alone is called assault
Yes I can be charged with assault
And I will end up in jail
I been in Jail before
And it wasn't a nice place to be
God I know that I have to apologize to those that i hurt
God I am not sure if the people will accept my apologies
God I don't like to hurt people
God I  am a strong men
And I know that when I hit people I could **** them easily
God I need to stop hurting people
God I want to have friends and not enemies
God I love you
And I want you to know that
God I have lots of friends in my life
God my friends respects me
God why can't I respect my friends
Because my friends need my respect
God I am a human being
And you created this human being that is me
With your holy hands
God I feel more relaxed now
And I am happy to be relaxed
God I know that you love me
Because I am one of your children
God I promise that I will behave now
Because I need to behave now
God I need help with  my anger
God I am having a good night sleep
God I need to go to bed early every night
So that I can have a proper sleep
God I don't wake up tired anymore
I wake up feeling refreshed
God I want to worship you every day
God I have feelings
God I am taking my medication for depression
God I never miss my medication
God I am a good person
God winter is here
And I must tell you that I hate it
God outside is very cold
God I need to write my thoughts on my computer
So I don't forget it
God will you give me another chance
God I love myself
God I will pray for my dear friends
God I love the moon shining in the sky
God I can't wait for this day to end
Because I want to return to my bed
God I love my bed
God my bed is very cozy and warm
God don't ask me to sing you a song
Because I can't sing
God will I be here tomorrow
Because I just want to live
God I need to live my life now
Every single day
God I will meditate because by meditating it will help me to stay calmer
God I want to learn to forgive people
God I have to learn to have patience with people
God I want to stay out of the hospital
Because hospital is a terrible place to be
God there are people that supports me in my life
God I am feeling bad for hurting people
God I don't even know if people will accept my apologies
But I feel that I need to apologize to the people that I hurt
God i got money to buy my food
God I got to learn to love people
God I hope that I can forgive myself for doing bad things
God I know that we can't put a price on health
God I love my home
God my home is my sanctuary
God I want to live in peace
God I am a good Christian
God I need to have a balanced meal
God I know that you died on the cross for my sins
And came to judge me
God I don't mind that you judge me
Because that is your job to do
God I want you to bring the sun for me
Because I need the sun
God let me tell you how I feel
God I am feeling good about myself
God I am so sad that the birds had flown back south
Because I miss their symphony
God we said good buy to summer a long time a go
And now we said hello to winter
The winter is very long and boring
God I don't judge people
God I accept people the way they are
God I never smoked a cigarette
God I have healthy lungs
God I never drunk any alcohol
God I will stay sober
God life is tough
Good I have a hard life
God soon the morning will end and the afternoon will arrive
God please tell me that you love me
Because I want to hear from you that you love me
God in the winter it gets dark very early
And I hate that
God I have plenty of love to give to my friends
God I want to learn to deal with my anger
Because I feel that it is getting out of control
God I am hungry for your words
God please preach the bible to me
God use me where ever you need me
God I been sad now for a long time but I never cried
God I want you to end this day now
Please bring the night now
God let the moon shine in the sky
God I want to see the moon shining in the sky
God I want to be a part of your world
God I can't live without food or water
God please feed me every day
God i feel very bad about the things that did
God I want to hold you in my arms
God I want to kiss you
God we belong together
God we have a good relationship going
And I feel that we need to work together on our relationship
God please guide me where ever you want me to do
God I am not good with money and that is why I never have money on me
God when I have money I spend it very fast
God your my father and I am your child
God what more can i do for myself
God I am not feeling depress right now
God every Sunday I come to your house
God you are the healer and I feel that you have healed me
God I believe in you
God I trust you
And I know that I got to take care of my health
God I have to say good bye to you right now
Because I am going to bed
Don't worry God because I will take care of my hygiene
God right now I have lots of energy
God I am not feeling stressed out
God the trees are now bare for the winter
God this year is ending fast
God I worry about my anger issues
God I worry about my health
God I worry about my sleep
God I promise to be good
And not harm any body anymore
God I am not a killer
When I need you God I will pray to you
And I hope that you will answer my prayers
God the time went fast
It is now mid night and I still up writing away on my computer
God here I am praying to you
Today it is dark and grey
There is not much sun during the winter
God I am happy to be alive
God I know that I have a good life
God you never let me down
But I let you down so many times
And I want to say sorry  for letting you down
God it is hard to express my feelings when I talk
I prefer to write my feelings on my computer
God I already made so many mistakes in my life
And I have learned from my mistakes
God I don't want to talk about the past
God I want to talk about my future
God I need to talk about my future now
God it is only winter and it is a warm winter night
God rescue me when I am feeling depress
God I don't want to feel depress anymore
God I have so much to be thank full for
God I am very generous when I give something to others
God I don't want to fight anymore
Because I find fighting to be very bad for me
God I want to live that life that I live that is full of freedom
God I don't want to think about bad stuff
God I want to throw the bad stuff in the garbage can
God the world needs freedom
When will there be freedom in this world?
God mental illness is not a joke
God I have a mental illness
God there are countries that have war
And th innocent people are dying every day
God please tell me when the war will end?
There are young children being trained to be soldiers
In this brutal war
There are shortage of food and medical supplies
They are blowing up churches houses but not hospitals
The people who make the bombs to use in the war are getting rich
People it is time to stop the war now
This brutal war is going on for so long
Some people are suffering from post stress disorder
Why kids can't be kids?
Why kids can't play?
Kids have the right to their education
It is time to stop child labour in the third world countries
We are polluting the earth
We are killing the wild life
And marine life
The oceans are already polluted
What are we going to do when there wont be anymore fish in the oceans?
I don't think that we will be able to save the marine life and the wild life
Soon I believe that the fishermen will be out of jobs
We have so many refuges living in Canada
And Canada is their home also
We are so lucky to live in Canada
Because there is no war in Canada
There are people from different countries living in Canada
God I am not afraid to die
I know that I will die some day
I don't know the hour or the day that I will die
God I still have a life to live
And I will live it
God I love my life
Because it is simple
God I need some fresh air
I will go out soon and get some fresh air
God I never took peace for granted
God I don't take my health for granted
God I am taking good care of my health every single day
God put  smiles on my face
So that I can smile
I think people want to see me happy and not sad
I know that I have a beautiful smile
God I want to live in the real world
Because I need to live in the real world
God I am a dreamer
And I don't dream big
Yes God no body will pay me to dream
God we will praise you every day
God there are times that I need a break from people
God I never lied to you
God I am always telling you the truth
God I must say that I am  a bully
God I am feeling so ashamed   for have behaved badly
Do you understand me?
God I need to be a roll model for others
God I don't know where to go for help when I am upset
God should I turn to my friends and tell them that I am upset?
Will my friends understand that I am upset?
Will my friends help me to calm down when I am upset
God I know that I can turn to my friends for help
God I very to live my life to the fullest every day
God so many people had broken my heart already
God can you fix my broken heart
People don't call me a saint
I am not a saint
Because I am always hurting
God I want to live la vida loca
God I am not hearing voices
There is no body talking to me
When I sleep I snore very loud
It is terrible that it is happening
I sleep all thru the night
And I never wake up in the middle of the night
Sleep is very important for me
I need to go to bed early every night so that I can get a proper night sleep
God watch me while I sleep
God I will get over with my sadness
God I believe in children
God I am the hero in the children's life
God I  had dreamed that I reached the sky
And I had written my name on the sky
God I  am feeling rested today
Because I just woke up now
God i am not a stranger to my depression
God sometimes I feel that I been on a roller coaster ride
And it keeps moving very fast non stop
God I am afraid of heights
God I never want to sleep in during the morning
Because if I sleep in in the morning I will be waisting the day
God you gave me a blessing with your holy hands
God I am not selfish
God I will never hurt you
Please try to understand that
God I  will try to keep mii cool
I know that will be hard to do
But I got to do it now
God I blame myself for hurting people
I will forget about it now
And move on with life
It makes me sad to know that i hurt people
God I cried so much today
Because I am sad
And there are tears that are falling from my eyes
God please wipe the tears from my eyes
God I  never bottle my feelings up
God I let my feelings out
God I  must tell people when I am angry
I don't know if people will understand that I am angry
God I  am up already and it is a new day
It is two in the morning
I am full of energy
I sometimes act on impulse
That is a terrible thing to do
God I am a people's person
God I want to be around people
God you gave me a brain to think
So I must use it
God it is winter time
And the weather keeps changing
That is how people get sick
People tell me that I am a good men
And I believe that I am
God I hope that people are praying for me
Because i need some prayers
Mr Silence Apr 2020
The more I spend time with you, the more I like you.
Is it wrong for me to fall for foolish love?
The more I get to know you, the more I fall for you.
Is it wrong for me to want to be with you?
Then please don’t let this linger on…

I can only say that life seems so boring here for me,
but if you were to be a part of this life of mine.
I can only say that life would be full of joy for me,
but if you were to deny my existence and love.
Then please don’t let this linger on…

Because the more I dislike my desires for love,
then the more I will push myself away from you…
Leave any comments or critics, please.
The Red Woman Oct 2019
it would be so
easy
if we were numbers and
figures
but how boring would it be
if we could calculate
each other
CL Fjell Jul 2019
A rock sat still on sunken cloth
Dull and boring, shineless in her form
She had no cares, no wit nor love
Ignorant and heavy she sat still
Like a rock, forever staring at nothing
But taking in everything
And rejecting it all
Olivia Kent Apr 2014
You are the king of hearts.
In your dreams you try to be.
You do everything you can to help.
Jesus, this got kinda boring.
During conversation, she isn't listening.
She always ends up snoring.
She wishes, she could love you back.
In the real world she really can't.
For she has eyes for only one.
Her heart's ablaze, but he has gone.
She must say sorry and take her rest.
Promising him, it's for  the best.
(C) Livvi
POETIST Aug 2020
I hear a name,
it is called covid 19.
i think it was boring,
but i hadnt seen the covid roaring.
after a month i saw it,
that when we realised we had split.
We can fight it,
or it will hit.
let us be one,
as the pandemic has begun.
dont be scared,
because we are prepared.
one for another,
because we are alltogather.
we have fought this before!
as we can again restore,
dont forget to be far from each,
because i dont have a speech,
or it will reach you,
let us not fight it like an issue.

lets be one!
We dont need to fight. lets be one and fight this pandemic yes and #covid-19willgo
CharlesC Mar 2021
Attention

Appears to be a directed perceiving of what

Shows up in line of sight..nothing startling

About that boring clarity..until we consider:

Attention demands a viewer and an array

Of objects asserting themselves..and we may or

May not notice sitting quietly in a dark corner

An assumption of separation..a quiet deception..

Dissolving the deception..nothing remains

But playing appearances..entering and

Departing from seemingly nowhere..and an

Aroma of real and not real..solid and not..

Also..entering the playground are thoughts of

Attention and a viewer and an array of

Objects..this new trio of players..front and center..

Arriving from nowhere...
Joseph Elward Jul 2018
Hot boring day
Don’t got much to say
How can I get High?
I need my Soul, Mind, Body to Fly


I tried ***** and Jack
Boy the Buzz is Wack
I wrote some real cool things
But destroying my liver would sting


I should try to take drugs
Where can I learn how to take pills?
I need to get my mind to chill
With my luck I would probably OD
If I do bury me beneath
The Manchineel Tree


Maybe I should go to the Internet and hire a *****
I hear these girls Love Money from Male Bores
Gee I hope they don’t have too many sores
Writing poems is nice
But I yearn for a safe vice


I use to listen to music
Beatles, Stones, Billy Idol
Today I need a sound that is Vital


Rap is Great
There is no debate
But I need a Lady to take me to another level
My ears, eyes and mind she must bedevil


To soar I must feel the Beat
I have to feel the Heat
She has to be a Visual Treat
Her soul I would eat


I don’t care what color she is
But I must be able to taste her Audio ****


So I go to my search engine and type in trance
All the Ladies are Super Hot
But will I find Aural Romance


I can’t decide between Milk and Dark Chocolate
Wow Black Latex Skin Tight Suit
Her stance, her dance, her prance, her trance
I found the Trance Queen


Nadia Ali is her name
Her sound and beat have brought me to life
She will become my Video Wife


Her performance can bring and man or woman to their knees
You can see on her face
She has style and grace
She loves to entertain
And take away the boredom pain


What an Angel sent to Earth
To spread Trance’s Birth


Thank you Miss Ali
You got me Audio High
I bet even the Devil if he heard you would cry


Please if you read this poem check her out
You owe it to yourself to find what Trance is all about
Avestani Sep 2018
Look through the glass can you see me
Look through the book do you read me
Can't stop my flow it's revealing
Let's both break through our ceilings

Can't stop this symphony
(The opera clock started at 1)
Cant catch the melody
(who told you, that this was gunna be fun)
I want a killing spree
(the story they told was about true love)
Get this away from me
(the last scene is boring let's go do drugs)

With you and me there's something special
Note I didn't say it was good or bad
You and me need to see some professionals
Objectively speaking you drive me mad
Im shining gold, your aura is red and blue
I see you sidestepping my words you crab
Let's take a vacation I'll be right next to you
**** all your feelings, pack seperate bags

Taking tests to see who's the best
I'm lost in an ocean my arms need rest

Fall down and ill pound you in the ground
I'm hopeful today cause you wore a dress

Take two am I acting like you
My friends just all told me I'm playing the fool
Why the **** is the spotlight on me
I'm just in here crawling to try and get free

Kick open the trapdoor on the mainfloor
Phantom is here and he's scaring the crowd
I guess I get real loud when I'm angry
Don't you do the same

I got a million little pieces
Who helped pick a title to your thesis
I know you favorite candy's Reeses
Just tell me, do we even need this
fluorescent May 2022
What really bothers me about this whole situation is how I know for a fact he’s just sleeping peacefully right now and I’m still wide awake wondering if my thighs are too wide or my skin isn’t clear enough or my jokes are too crass or there’s some reason he doesn’t find me attractive and therefore I am just an emotional support dog he gets to use in the mean time before he can run home to his girlfriend who is just some Freudian excuse for a mother figure. And i hate that it really was a personal thing when rejected with me because when they were at their worst, he still looked other places-any places for girls other than me. He really decided that the most annoying, disposable people were better options than i am because for some reason our connection makes us too compatible, too real to be an option and now im left looking like an idiot to everyone because everyone knows im stooping to his level for him to like me and he still rejected me and i don’t understand what about me is so off putting that everyone rejects me. Did i read too much as a kid, do i ask too many questions, are my arms to fat? I dont understand what i did that he decided i was almost good enough, or good enough in every aspect except for one. I genuinely think that if i was 30 pounds lighter he would have thought of me differently, flirted with me from the beginning, and now the issue is that since we’re friends- a position only reserved for girls ugly enough to never be considered, and he sees how compatible we really could be, he chooses someone else. And what do i really see in him? I always thought it was emotional intelligence but this semester has proven it to be otherwise. I hate how i am a provider for every group i am in, i never grew up out of the eldest sister role. One friend whines to go out to the bars and i accommodate no matter how much I didn’t want to go, i make another’s dumb jokes seem funny to others, i reach out to the socially rejected and try to create space for them and yet even those who love me the most prioritize their own needs because they "don't owe anyone anything." What’s it like to have relationships where you dont live in fear that youre not worth other people’s time? What’s it like to never consider how other people are feeling when opening your mouth? I cry randomly not just for myself but for his girlfriend because she probably feels the same form of neglect that I do and doesn’t even realize why. I know i look like an idiot, but she might look worse. But should i pity her? She behaves similarly to him. I don’t think i could even survive a relationship with him, too much to change for both of us. But honestly I’ve never met a man who can match me emotionally, he’s the only one who comes close. Hes smart, and kind and values communal support over his own. But also he’s a selfish *****. That’s what i don’t understand, how can he only want to **** me when he’s drunk? How did I make all of this up? How can he tell me I’m gorgeous "platonically?" i just feel like every choice I’ve made this semester has been so embarrassing and i feel like the embodiment of the character whose faults are commodified as modern feminism or some sort of coming of age Bridget jones narrative when in reality women like me are genuinely just treated like this all the time because we’re average. Average intelligence, average looks, etc. but thats the enraging thing; not only do i know im not average, I know im buying into misogyny every time i get angry. But im always angry. All the time. I can cry at the drop of a hat because of how angry I constantly am. I hate everyone I know and i hate that i could probably do it so much better than they are. I could be a better friend, a better boyfriend, etc, and i just feel so let down by everyone i know. I hate that everyone I’ve ever kissed has been ugly to me. Why dont attractive boys like me? Am i not picky enough? Do i think im more attractive than i actually am? I used to think that my personality could carry me because i know I have a good personality, but it has come to fruition that my personality has no effect. I’ve met some of the most boring and unfunny girls in my life and they always pull more than i do. Like as someone who isn’t attracted to them i literally want to rip my own eyelashes out than actually hold conversation with them and yet boys still are drawn to them. is he even capable of loving me? Is the friend zone this damning? Is it only damning because im subpar? Is this how his past girlfriends felt? Even she was able to hook up with him, he apologizes for even considering me. Does he consider me? Has he even considered dropping his girlfriend or is that just something he says when he’s drunk? How can what you say drunk not be something you mean at all? How can you be two different people? How does your subconscious differ that greatly? Will you regret this one day? Will you come around? I literally just can’t comprehend this rejection. I was so certain. I ended a relationship after 5 years because of my certainty. I dont know what im even expecting though, dating him would be kinda weird. Is this the kind of relationship where we get together in our 30s when there’s no drunk hookups on yatch parties left to be had. If i tried to make out with him this weekend at the yatch party would he reciprocate? I hate that my literal best friend in the world would use me. That’s the worst kind of loyalty. I hate that he’s so “loyal” to his girlfriend that he’d shake me off. I hate how he’s conveniently “out of his mind” when he’s drunk and calling me beautiful but conscious enough to not cheat on his girlfriend because that would be “too far.” Why am i too far? Why is considering me so damning? Is this love to him? He says he loves me, why does none of this feel like love? I think about him literally 24/7 and i know for a fact he doesn’t consider me until im looking him in the eye begging him to stop leading me on. Why did he choose to do this to me? Why does he only want me when he can blame it on the alcohol? Am I ugly enough that you need alcohol to justify your attraction to me? Should i try to kiss him this weekend for the heck of it or will that literally push me over the edge. Will that be the final straw? I am constantly trying to prove that what i saw was legitimate that i didnt just make the whole thing up. I hate this.
streams of consciousness. a friend who was a little more than a friend but only wanted to remain friends until alcohol was involved.
Bo Tansky Dec 2018
I Win, You Lose
You snooze, you lose
Listen, my fellow losers
You haven’t been the choosers
Until recently
The mantra has always been
Take it on the chin
Keep your nose to the grindstone
To each his own stone
Blood, toil, tears and sweat, heck
A hunt and a peck
If you think that
You have another think coming
Or another drink coming
Of course, you do
You can’t stop the thoughts  
Thinking is all you do, do
You think about not thinking
So, how did that work out for you?
Are thoughts the things of thinking
Of course, they are, I think
Where do they come from
And where do they go
Do they go fishing
Do they go to the dogs
How did that work out for you?
Me think, maybe this is a rabbit hole.
Try to stop the thoughts with Percocet
How did that work out for you?
You think about quitting
Knowing perfectly well
Well there’s only permitting
How did that work out for you
You can play the victim
In your own tragic story
Boring, boring
How did that work out for you?
Try not to try
And you only try, try harder
How did that work out for you?
Finished before you even got started
Because you thought it through to the end
To the mythological dead end
And my friend
How did that work out for you?
Not this and not that
Chit chat I say to that
I don’t know about you
As for me
Nothing’s worked out  
But I don’t give a ****
(for now)
Because it’s only when you don’t give a ****
That’s when the dam opens for you
How to get there
Ah, That’s the rub
Scrub a dub dub
And Scobey do
How did that work out for you?
KID23 Jul 2020
I’m pan, yes, that’s what I am
I’ll fall in love with anyone
Anyone
That’s what You said
But that’s *******, isn’t it?
i’m anyone but
i’ll never be an option to You

you could say I’m bi
Yes, maybe that’s it
I don’t care if they’re a boy or a girl
I’ll fall in love with anyone
I can love anyone
But can You?

Or is it just me
Am i never going to be
Good enough for
You
Am i too
Unappealing, too
Boring, too
Ugly,
for You to love me
To give me the same amount of attention You give–
HIM

I’m gay, yes, I’m fully out of the closet
Nine words i want to hear You say
(But You never will—maybe)
Because i’m waiting. But
What’s the point .
What is the point when
i am never going to be
Good enough for
You– When i am too
Unappealing, too
Boring, too
Ugly,
for You to love me

Let me retaliate, i think You’re
Mean,
Stuck-up,
Unsophisticated,
Selfish,
Bossy,
Attention-grabbing,
A whor-

No.
i cannot.

i don’t care what You are
i like You enough for me to Disregard
Every Bad Quality
You can be my perfectly imperfect devil
The Tom Buchanan to my Daisy
The cockroach in my bedroom
The cancer metastasizing in my body

Do whatever You want to do
Say whatever You want to say
i don’t care
i will try, to
Forget You, but You will always
Rein me back in, and
i know that i might regret this, but
Just remember

Cue music,

If You’re lost You can look
And You will find me
Time after time

If You fall i will catch You
i will be waiting
Time after time

Anytime.
just a heartbroken gay boi...
~ "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper
Yitkbel Dec 2017
In the Woods

For all I know, I could be in a dream right now, no beginnings, no once upon a time, no long long ago; and perhaps no endings, no happily ever after, no the-end, and no non-arbitrary answer to the question. Of course, no one wants to read that, no one wants to be told that all they’ve ever believed in is a lie, what it is in the end, is what it was in the beginning, hopeless.

Everything is trivial, at least at the moment, at least that’s what I feel, well, I am who I am, is that not correct, or am I suppose to be someone else, or feel like someone else, the other I do not understand, the other I do not care for or about, the other I would never want to be, or the other that embodies, mimics, and mocks, all the sources and ends to my yielding to the scorns of life. No, I am only ME. That’s all I will be. Except, at the moment, and as

The Girl

Sitting in the subway, taking a stroll around the lake, all that time away from actually writing, your entire purpose of existence will-not rush to your mind-but simply all make sense.

Whether or not that is actually constructive is again, trivial at the moment.  Whether or not the fact that the absentmindedness afterwards undermines all that insightfulness that had came before it makes the entire conversation unworthy of being discussed by its entirety, is not important, or just not interesting enough for me to ignore the fact that I am, at this very moment, running through a endless territory of barely anything other than stripes of forests away from the occasional darkness that most would call night.

If there were anything beyond the soft grip of the crisp emerald fields of molds and fungus, the soft shower of the gleaming silver moonlight, the tanning hides of the shading elms, an occasional joy of a little wilder beast, and the deadly silence, it is not within my sight, and I must be heading towards it. Yes, there must be something else.

Something beyond this stillness, this stock-still, never fleeting moment in time; there must be an end that is not an end for all this seeking of the seeker. There must be a meaning in all the seemingly meaningless continuation of a standstill.

There must be a gift, a present, well just a difference, to be the spark in the storyline, but what is it? I could guess, but that’s expectation.

Expectation, the tail of the tale you will be chasing after that exists not, because, all that you would have believed in only exist within your mind.

Anyway,


The Tree

One of my branches caught beneath the cape, and scratched at her ankle. I shook, and she did too, but only so slightly. Perhaps it was the wind, well, for me, but for her, I would rather, it was the instinct sensing of pain, or may be just a itch. Whatever it was, it was to be felt; she felt it, and so did I.

She did not, however, respond in anyway, and quietly she passed on. This is a disappointment to me, sadly. Actually, it was more than that, I felt a downing of emotions, from the curiosity of a child to the most slight, yet the most intimate pinch at the heart, a sharp pain.

What did I expect, was she to stop and grant me a part in her story, in the flight of the has-been worldly, and leave everything behind.

Have I forgotten, once more, that I am a tree, the ultimate metaphor for permanence? Even at that, the fact that I cannot move is not the question, what should be asked is what more could be there for a tree; yes, will I always remain, when all have passed on, the response as always, is probably yes.

What is there then, to all this, why do I still remain? As a tree, where did I get a hope that there is a hope, and what exactly is this hope. Perhaps I just always tell myself to wait and see, yes, maybe that is it. I’ll wait and see.

I turn around, or I just turns my attention back around, expecting to see her vanishing into the distance, however, she had not yet passed me. This time, one of my other branches caught at the cape, threatening to tear off the shield, I tried to stop them, but again, I cannot move. As she defends, the instrument of disguise, also known as the mask, almost yields, and unveils the mystery.

She quickly stations it back in place, nonetheless, although my appearance is as still as stillness can be, with my quick wits, I stole a look beneath the golden disguise, and I was surprised, yet not so much as I was delighted.

She was gifted with a natural pureness in her features, plain, yet, upright, proud, and inherently, and elegantly innocent. The nobleness draws the most fear, shame, and sorrow.

If I could, I would, lower down my gaze, and the crown-how ironic-of my tree, not in admiration,  but in shame, the despicable, inevitable taunts of my conscience.

It is only now, that I have noticed as she had passed my way, that there is another player in this game, another character in this story. On her shoulder, sits the stereotypical shape of a petite and bright star. The light, lights my veiled blush of humiliation; she seems even more innocent, even more careless and naive, even more happy.

What is it, what is she smiling about; what is she thinking about?

YES, WHAT IS SHE THINKING ABOUT?

The Star

Well, I am her, so I would, or just, I should know.

The dreadful thing is, her identity is still a mystery; it doesn’t matter how close you gets to her, whether or not she is a princess, a ordinary farm girl, a boring city child, a dangerous assassin, or whatever she is, doesn’t just suddenly hop out in the clear for you. However, you can still sense from the baseline of our so called humanity, the little insanity our souls call intuition, an indecipherable comfort of our inner most consciousness, and subconsciousness.

I can see my own reflection from the back of her mask, funny how I can’t still see Her. Does it matter if I see myself, if all that’s ever going to change is my consciousness. Perhaps not, perhaps all I need was a sense of being, a sense of existence, to feel that extra undecipherable sense of bliss by mere proximity, I am with her, feels her existence, and that is all I needed.
If I asked it would be awkward,
What you're thinking,
If I'm boring you,
If you loathe me,
If you're having a bad day,
If it's awkward because you have Feelings for me,
It so awkward.
Why.

I try and I try
To read into your dismissive
****** expressions.
Why are you so disinterested?

You laugh with others,
But never with me.

I'm angry because
I simply do not understand.

I'm angry because
An answer I cannot demand.

I'm angry because
My mind must be broken.

I'm angry because
Your thoughts must be spoken
If I'm to understand.
Nonverbal communication goes over my head, and awareness of that fact is torture.
zxndrew Oct 2020
I hate the need to always make myself look interesting
The feeling of needing to make myself look cool or fun washes over often
“If I can just do X, Y, or Z than they’ll wanna see me”
When’s it gonna feel okay to be boring?
I know I am not infinitely interesting but I constantly feel like I need to be
If someone’s gonna love me they’re gonna love me in my silence
They’ll love me when I’m quiet and we can just enjoy each other’s company
I won’t always have something say and hopefully one day someone will understand him
It is okay to be boring
Max May 2018
The assignments they give us
As a daily breifing
To never forget the logic we learn
So we can use it in future schooling

That doesnt mean we like them
For they give us headaches daily
Its the most boring part of life
I'd rather watch a bee

I'd rather play football as a pastime
Than write math down with ink
The notebooks we use are thick
And the textbooks are pink
Mara Kennet Sep 2021
Everything is an illusion
The baby birds live on my balcony
I sleep there too--my confusion
I read Julio Cortazar
I shop at local Bazar
I dress at the second hand store I drink
in the park
Nothing can be more pretentious
but I fully embark
my emptiness, my fullness and my despair
I sleep on the coach, and I sleep on the chair.
I read many books and I know many words
nothing can be more sinful than serving two gods
Yes, I am so unusual but I am boring too
The Immortalist is in my purse
He is my king Tutahkhamun for the night
he is my curse
my interplanet flight
I drink *****. I am turning hands,
and I am burning my gods.
I am burning my guts.
I am making fans
Nothing can be more pretentious than
to die alone
Sunday Minsk, and despair
and I sleep alone...in the chair...
70 Percent Jan 2018
Isn't it boring?
Multiple failures
((((:
KT Torres Mar 2019
Here is where I met you, in our space, in our sphere,
but I appropriated it from you, didn’t I?
You liked to stand near the pungent water pipe behind the building
Just under the flickering neon.
Here is where I witnessed a whirlwind in still life, careful but creepily
Analyzing your ways.
You are something dangerous but sparkling, something I should not need
but alas, here we are.
Here is where you stand and look straight ahead, boring into my eyes. Your voice, melodic,
distant, tinged with some almond liqueur
‘I’m not yours’
You do not know that, do not worsen the dragging of life, please.
There is a coppery, slick taste on my tongue, you do not know.
Here is where you stood but now you are gone.
I don't love the "manic pixie dream girl/boy" trope.
Apostrophe's Aug 2019
An overabundance of mobile devices
Gets overlooked, wonder how global suffices
The impact it has and most of the crisis
Might just get worse if we don't crumble the righteous
Stumble upon some new found glory
Poor me what the bumble bee's swarming
In the morning it's the same old story
Chores and boring laundry
Calming music for me affords me the sight
Of the light that's moving towards me
Cordially disagree with downplayed
Thoughts of your achievements for your own sake pause and file a grievance all the while reconciling with your choice to leave us
B L Costello Oct 2023
Is that a woman?
I am really not sure,
I guess, for now, I will call them "her",
Is that a man?
Where do I begin?
I guess I will start calling them "him",
"Them"?
Oh no....that's a new story,
Somewhere we decided two genders were boring,
Sometimes, its confusing,
But, it will change soon,
"Those were the Days", called the tune,
"Girls were girls and men were men",
And everyone...
Sometimes...got called THEM
So confusing now.  First, it was just a recognition thing.....now I don't even know how to address people without offending.  God Bless Us All
Leah Shatzer Jul 2017
I've written this over and over but the words never seem to justify everything you are.
They only sum up who I am.
They are bleak and full of loneliness and even if you read in between the lines you can conclude that I am nothing more than an empty space to make this ******* letter seen full.
And maybe that's the problem with me.
Maybe I'm always going to be the one who goes in between everyone's lives so they have stories to tell, but I don't have a story of my own.
I'm the fill in.
And so I suppose that's why you left me because I was useless to your story now because you met her who is smart and beautiful and has the potential to write her own masterpiece.
So go ahead and forget me because I know I was and never will be nothing more than someone to fill your sparingly lonely nights and your sparse boring days.
I know I will never be more than a waste of time.
Zywa Dec 2020
At last in love again, wonderful
My girlfriend keeps asking
to filter out my pink

and to compare him critically
with the man of my dreams
but I leave to her the sober

and boring plainness
I prefer sweet whispers
and secret kisses

open me to spread fragrances
stretch me towards his eyes
and nestle me in the wind

of his stories, catch
life in full sail, endure
storms, cleave the waves

with double ribs
Ribs: the transverse frames of a ship
Double ribs: of man and woman (Eva), which makes the hull extra strong

Collection "The Big Secret"
DC raw love Dec 2014
If we  all felt the same
We would  not be different

If we would all agree
We would have problems

If we all like the same things
We would have no variety

If we all looked the same
We would be boring

If we all thought the same
We would be robots

If we never no love
We would be zombies
Chameleon Apr 22
I suddenly felt like
I needed to scream
or explode or
both.
I was hunched over
trying to coax a teeny tiny
***** into place,
listening to the two women
I work with be
scandalized by some girl
doing Onlyfans.
What a *****!? What does her man think?

Ugh YUCK SHUT UP
I wanted to burst.
Instead I hurried up
to finish this menial job.
I am surrounded by
boring people who
talk about boring ****
all day.
It is killing my soul.
ConnectHook Apr 29
Most poets now are boring clowns
Meandering, confessional;
Their muses quick to pawn their crowns
Claiming to be professional;
Credentialed by some stuffy place
That ruined all poetic grace.

Miss Chang is one. The current breed:
Murmuring, sighing in her tea—
Exhibiting neurotic need
To tell sad stories. Let her be.
She’s found her niche. She does her schtick
Repeating endlessly one trick.

We note the symptoms and the signs:
Turning dull maudlin thoughts to prose,
Then making of it ragged lines
(Post-modern sickness clearly shows.)
But adding line-breaks here and there
Is simply words in disrepair.

Poor dear, it’s clear she dwells in grief
(And follows funerals to the bank…)
We realize, with some relief
It’s not her fault. We have to thank
The avant-boring visionaries
Praising her obituaries;

Milquetoast academic schools
Of well-degreed neurotic fish
Who spawn such vapid bubbling fools
As fit for neither hook nor dish.
And thus, we’re left with Rupi Kaur
In this, the muses’ dullest hour.
PROMPT #29:
write a poem that takes its inspiration from the life of a musician, poet, or other artist.

...In which I turn my burning eye upon Victoria Chang
Andronicus VI Dec 2024
Arthur knew his mother had died before anyone told him. Not because he was particularly close to her—in fact the opposite was true—but because there was no other reason for his sister to be calling him at eight o’clock on a Friday morning. Arthur looked at his phone vibrating in his hand. He was standing on the corner of Queen Street and early morning commuters rushed around him this way and that on their way to whatever very important business they had to do that Friday morning. Nobody noticed the man standing on the corner with his old-fashioned homburg hat, briefcase in one hand and phone in the other who was at that moment imagining yelling at the crowd, ‘Here, you answer it. Perhaps you’ll slow down a minute and remember your own mother and how many days it’s been since you spoke to her last’.

It had been eight hundred and forty days since Arthur had spoken to his mother. Anna, his sister, would text him every now and again to give him updates such as, ‘Mum’s been diagnosed with cancer,’ and ‘Doc says she won’t make it til Xmas’ and Arthurs personal favourite, ‘Don’t you think it’s time to make amends?’.

Arthur’s phone was still vibrating. The street crossing bleated and the throng surged around him. He looked up at the flashing green man and back at the screen in his hand. He would have preferred a text. Anna would judge how he reacted to this phone call. No matter what he said, he would be unequivocally wrong. Would she be crying when he answered? Probably. Would she expect him to cry? The crossing signal subsided. The green man disappeared, and a red one appeared instead. Arthur shuffled away from the road and answered the call.

He was right of course. He’d been around the block enough times to predict people’s behaviour though he was still a little unclear on how they expected him to react. Mirroring Anna’s wails of anguish seemed inappropriate. Instead, he attempted what he hoped would be a comforting approach by pointing out that their mother was no longer suffering. He’d intentionally kept his voice even, yet he could taste the bitterness in Anna’s voice as she retorted that it wasn’t the point. He hadn’t even been there while she was suffering, she said, and she supposed he wouldn’t be interested in attending the wake on Saturday either. In fact, Arthur had no problem with attending the wake. Now his mother was dead, she could hardly do any more damage.

Eight hundred and forty days ago, Arthur had had no intention that it would be the last time he’d see his mother. He’d gone over to see her like he did every six months or so, sitting in his childhood home at the table where he grew up, drinking tea out of the floral-patterned mug he’d gifted her for Mother’s Day back in 1982. It was all very familiar. And as usual, Arthur felt a smouldering in his stomach as he listened to his mother complain about her life and telling him how he should be living his. You’re selfish, she’d tell him. No wife, no kids; all alone, just living for yourself. Arthur didn’t live all alone. He had an aquarium of fan-tailed guppies, but he didn’t bother telling her that.

This day as he sat at the table only half listening to his mother, he noticed a pigeon had made a nest in the tree outside the dining room window. He watched as the pigeon fluttered down to the nest and two tiny gaping beaks popped up, squeaking for food.

‘Pigeons,’ he told his mother, motioning toward the window with the floral mug.

She and glanced toward the window and narrowed her eyes. ‘Vermin,’ she said. ‘I hope a storm blows them out of the tree. We don’t need pigeons around here.’

The steady smoulder moved from Arthur’s stomach to his chest. He drained his tea, stood up, walked the kitchen, rinsed the mug, and put it in the sink.

His mother shuffled after him from the dining room. ‘Where are you going all of a sudden?’ she asked.

‘I’ve gotta go,” he said. I’ll see you later.’

And he meant it. He thought he would see her later. But in the months that followed, for better or for worse, a peaceful kind of apathy set in before the smouldering subsided. He didn’t hate her. He just didn’t want to see her. Or hear her. Or interact with her in any way. Even when he heard about the cancer. The silence was too beautiful, like a spell that shouldn’t be broken.  

At the wake, Arthur sat down again at the dining room table. People wandered around the house like ghosts that didn’t belong. A few elderly ladies patted him on the shoulder and told him they were sorry for his loss. Anna glared at him and said nothing at all. She was preoccupied playing the mourning daughter. Dressed all in black, she went from person to person showing them how distraught she was by dabbing a handkerchief at her smudged eyes. Her husband and their two teenaged daughters solemnly distributed cups of coffee and sandwiches cut into triangles.

To Arthur, the whole masquerade felt like the final scene of a B-grade movie; predictable, boring, laughable. When the credits began to roll—the boring parts like cleaning up afterwards—all these spectators would get up and leave. This wasn’t their problem. It never was.

Arthur glanced over at the window. The pigeon and nest were gone (that didn’t surprise him). But the tree was gone too. There was nothing. Arthur stared slack jawed at the empty space until he found himself wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing.
Johnnyqu33r Nov 2016
Scotch tape and super glue,
To keep me all collected.
Chewing gum and safety pins,
Those also work in a pinch.

Cement strapping me down,
When I just want to float away.
Counting sheep gets boring,
These days everything is dull.

Feelings are hard to organize,
Sometimes harder to express.
I can be really fine on the outside,
But this interior is a mess.

Some days I want to unravel,
Let everything just slip away.
My hands are calloused and dry,
From gripping too **** tightly.

I wonder how it feels to be weightless,
To forgive and forget and breathe.
To wake up refreshed and ready,
No glue or gum or pins or tape.
Damon Sherry Dec 2018
It’s funny to think
That people change in a blink
One second it’s this amazing light
The next second it’s a crow that’s taken flight
The moon changes phases every night
Like everyday it needs to change to stay relevant
Society does the same thing
We force ourselves to be relevant to not be forgotten
To not be isolated
To not be “weird”
Today's society find depression relatable
Someone's downfall is a funny thing
But no one thinks of it
Why does something so negative be relatable
Why are all the kids depressed
Why is the media focusing on the bad
Why is everything negative
Why does society tell kids they're not good enough
If their not skinny enough
If their not fat enough
If their not funny
If their too boring
If their not pretty enough
If their too pretty
In the eyes of society were all not good enough
But let’s think for a second
What is good enough.
johnny solstice Jun 2019
"Chooze now!.." she said in a tone that left no doubt she meant business
"Would you prefer to be scared to death or bored to death?"
A wave of panic swamped my brain as I realised
being bored to death was the scariest thing I had ever contemplated
and being scared was about the most boring thing I could imagine

"infurra penny infurra pound" sez I,
as I tickle the clutch and hug the camber……….
the GS responds with her usual throaty grunt and wiggles her tailfeathers as I rattle the cats eyes-.
The soft-bodied moths bounce off my cheeks as I hit the ****-switch and all becomes bible-black
The bike leaves the descriptive part of the ****-backed bridge and I wait for touch-down…..

I wait……….

I continue to wait………….

All is still….. somewhere far off a badger is trying to dislodge a pistachio shell from one of  his nostrils by employing a series of short sneezes that sound like someone scratching vinyl…

still I wait……………….

And wait………….

The badger has resorted to cross-fading and a slight reverb but to no avail.

Time passes ……..

"Chooze now!.."
"a shooting star or a star gazer?"

the pistachio is evacuated with a satisfying "plop"
and the ground rushes up to meet the rubber………….
……………….and misses by fourteen and a half  feet.

I wait…………..

And wait…………
Brandon Kellems Jan 2020
Waiting in these lines
Can be quite boring
At times
Any person in their right mind
Would find something to pass the time

The thing that I found
To occupy myself
Is to occasionally pull one off the shelf
Give it a look
Peculiar are these things
That fill the book
"they are powerful"
"i try to use them"
"to liften my mind"
"maybe someone will find"
"these confessions of my mind"
I wonder... if I wasn't too scared to cry
If someone would have helped me
Bare my mind

But within these lines
Are the thoughts
That cross my mind
Well, just the ones that prevent rest
The ones that keep me up at night
To say all, there would never be enough time
The lines are how I cope
With the things that tug my rope
Mateuš Conrad May 2022
i miss being a young man, in his late teens...
i don't know what happened to my 20s...
honestly: i really don't...
     i was out of the usual treadmill antics of
a boy's 20s...
    by the time i resolved all the difficulties that
can be associated with a psychotic breakdown:
women started telling their children:
mind this man walking past you...
man... man... i forgot being a boy...
        i was secluded in my boyhood of my early
and late 20s... i only came back to society: slowly...
cautiously... once i passed the mark of turning 30...
who said that they'd welcome the quick passing
on the tyranny of beauty? Plato...
   and who might add: the idiocy of youth?
    that bravado... that cockiness... self-assurance:
as false as they come? i guess i could be accredited with
uttering such words... there's this middle path
when life becomes bearable... after your 30s until
you hit 60... and then... those consolidation years...
  facing up to mortality...
                  not until then...
   but i miss the boy i was when i was 14 through to 21...
when women could and would mystify me...
when i wanted to pursue them...
           i was allocated the "tribe" of men:
women don't take a ****! women don't ****!
   don't be silly!
            they eat but they don't take a ****!
            don't be silly!
                     of the relationships i've had... ha ha!
"relationships": my grandparents (on my maternal side)
ended their relationship by sleeping in separate rooms
in separate beds...
   well... it was more of a fling: hell!
i had the chance to visit Russia for a month...
spend a month in St. Petersburg...
    visit the Russian version of Versailles...
         travel overnight to Moscow on the train
listening to Bob Dylan on the top bunk bed...
   managed to see Metallica...
      kiss the girl while everyone took out their
cigarette lighters when Fade to Black was being played...
i remember that song oh too well...
in my bedroom covered with posters of bands...
falling asleep to that song
   while dreaming of next day's commute with
the Ursuline girls... coming from... Hainault and beyond:
Debden... Loughton...
  
sure... she slapped me when she picked me up from
the airport... since that slap i punched
myself harsher... what was i going to do?
complain? she would have kicked me out of the house
and with as little of a knowledge of Russian as i had...
become a homeless person in St. Petersburg?
so i took the slap... i subsequently took it out on her
by ******* her for 7 hours one night...
i hope she felt a Spartan cohort of 300 having fun with
her... i hope i exhausted her...
i still remember that slap... i hope she remembers
those seven hours of bedroom antics...

i did behave in a "hypergamous" way... like a woman...
what are the chances of visiting Russia: these days?
i played nice...
                   i wouldn't mind returning to her to simply
slap her *** during *******...
but i was 21 and stupid back then...
i once heard a friend of my estranged uncle say:
slap her about at the beginning...
then she'll stay... i did that with my cats...
one of them was ******* in my bed...
i didn't know which one it was...
first time i saw **** in my bed i inquired
by slapping both of them...
the second time i caught the culprit! he was taking
a dump in my bed...
now? after slapping him...
       then washing him... then curling him into
a towel like a mummy and placing him in the sun?
we're the best of friends... he keeps slipping into
my bed from 10pm through to 1am...
i'd hate to do that with women...
     slapping a girl just to get some respect?
i don't need to: i don't want to do that...
i don't want to do what i did with my cats
to become translated to women...

              ergo? i miss the 14 through to 21 year old
boy's libido...
   i wish i could want that ******* Khedra more...
it has almost been 2 months since i last saw her...
i'm already due to get a haircut... and a shave at the Turk...
ergo? i need to trim my ***** hair elsewhere:
no, not the beard on my face...
   she stopped sending me selfies...
i stopped sending her pictures of flowers from my garden:
currently? the chives are in bloom...
pretty little purple flowers... reminiscent of
the Scottish thistle...
               it's not that i'm out of practice:
i just don't feel the need to feed the need for ***
anymore...
   i have lost the hunger for it...
     not that i'm impotent... but i just...
                 need it... sparingly: on a whim...
last time i was woken up from an asexual slumber...
god forgive me...
i was grooming my female cat... and she raised her
backside into my face...
i know! i know: *******...
ergo? i cycled like mad across the north eastern
part of London looking for a brothel...
i already knew where the brothel was...
but i cycled all the way to Tottenham Court High Road...
back to Stratford... £160 for an hour... pretty steep...
back to Goodmayes... £130 for an hour...

point being: when i was with this Russian girl...
oh man... sleeping in the same bed...
maybe that's why i never took relationships too seriously...
the sleeping arrangement...
it's already difficult sharing a bed with 10kg Maine ****
cat... imagine sharing it with a woman...
each and every, single, *******, night...
one side of me became: NUMB...
yeah... that B is a surd... it's silent: NUM' -
hello apostrophe...
                
because i couldn't possibly fall asleep not hugging her...
but by that "logic" half of me would
get cramps... and dead-meat numbing
effects...
   oh to hell with that!
why do all the rich people need so many bathrooms?!
you need at least three bedrooms!
one in which you sleep... one in which she sleeps...
and one in which you ****!

i miss being mystified by women, reading Stendhal...
that's not coming back...
too many practicalities came along...
me and a single mum?!
we're creatures of habit... before we are even
associated with politics or society...
man is a habitual creature....
by 30+? you have your habits...
and they are non-negotiable...
  
   personally? the most pristine distance to cycle
casually... i'd say... over the distance of a marathon...
so... 50+km... / 26+ miles... that's relaxing...
anything less is sort of boring...
that's why i forget the countryside from time to time...
and cycle into central London...
why?

a) i'm cycling in to... look at some girls...
   randomly... girls and architecture...
andy williams... music to watch the girls go by...
b) hmm...
           cliche, that point (a)...
    get ******* at traffic...
     being a traffic shepherd...
             elevated status of pedestrian...
   danger... leeching off buses and trucks...
leeching off ambulances... just the general
sense of commotion... people spotting...
bore and yawn and yawn and bore...
c) ah... spatial orientation...
if you start off at around Collier Row...
and cycle toward Barkingside...
and you take that B174 (Romford Rd.)
       route... you have that beautiful precursor
of a London skyline... and you start thinking:
well... i'll be there in about an hour and half an hour plus...

i found my favourite route "roundabout" today...
South London... i don't care what anyone says...
immediately: in the immediacy of cycling across
the bridge... London feels different in the south...
a little round around via London Bridge
and back up north again via Southwark Bridge...
and... whatever 20+ miles back home to do some
work in the garden...

****... no pretty girls along the way...
nothing that might stand out...

i know why i'm reluctant regarding visiting that brothel...
last time i wanted to perform oral ***
on a ******* she asked me to pay extra...
hell... if Khedra was willing to perform unprotected
***... because... the two of us...
are hygienic Nazis... i'm thinking...
slob... slob... the one time and place i can turn into
a slob... i want to pucker up my lips to those
other pair of lips...
but... i don't want to be paying extra...
i'm imagining... falling asleep on my stomach
and pushing my mouth into a pillow...

and hallucinating daffodils...
no... tulips! anything floral and the female genitals!
hmm... ha ha: yummy yuck!
maybe that's why i prefer to eat a rare beef steak...
lick, ****: but: if you're going to bite...
gently...

hell: if women can explore their sexuality...
can i, too, please?
i'll just word it... without having multiple partners...
but it's so much easier with prostitutes...
what dating apps?! never heard of them...
the money is on the table...
lucky for me i tried ******* for the first time
aged 35+ years old... and i was like:
i prefer coffee...

coffee an nicotine in the morning... first thing's first...
n'ah... nein nein... NO! i don't do powdered
crowds...
what m shift tomorrow? Wembley... play-offs...
whoever it playing i'm pretty sure i'll be looking for a
wife...
but i want my mojo back...
   i want to go back into that brothel and ****
like a 21 year old... i want to rekindle a hunger
for a female body...
          on the throne of thrones:
it really doesn't help... abstaining from all
that libido insomnia of over-exposure to *******...
sometimes... i tried a whole month dry...
it changed: **** all!
i need to be in the mood...
   i haven't been in the mood for about 2 months...

**** on me! cacas mihi on (take on me
variable wording ancients tongues etc.)
i fall back on something sinister...
Dante took Virgil as his guide...
    ******* from Horace! ******* from Horace!
he's mine!
i fall back on translating Latin texts...

Horace:

quid obserstis auribus fundis precces?
non saxa nudis surdiora navitis
Neptunus alto tundit hibernus salo.
inultus ut tu riseris Cotytia
volgata, sacrum liberi Cupidinis,
et Esquilini pontifex venefici
inpune ut urbem nomine inpleris meo?
  quid proderat ditasse Paelignas ****
verlociusve fata te votis manent:
          ingrata misero vita ducenda est in hoc,
novis ut usque suppetas laborisbus.
optat quietem Pelopis infidi pater
                egens benignae Tantalus semper dapis,
optat Prometheus obligatus aliti,
  optat supremo conlocare Sisyphus
in monte saxum; sed  vetant leges Iovis.
Voles modo altis desilire turribus,
                 modo ense pectus Norico recludere,
frustraque vincla gutturi nectes tuo
                    fastidiosa tristis aegrimonia.
vectabor umeris tunc ego inimicis eques
                meaeque terra cedet insolentiae.

an quae movere cerreas imagines,
ut ipse nosti curiosus, et polo
      deriepered lunam vocibus possim meis,
possim crematos excitare mortuous
desiderque temperare pocula,
      plorem artist in te nil agentis exitus?
    
you dare bring requests toward clogged ears?!
not so on the voice of naked sailors does the
deaf rock and not so during winter does Neptune
shakes his trident (three-tooth), like you with the word,
who so weighs himself by laughter serving up
Canidia's ******, slandering love, the holiness of
   Cupid.
               do you not call yourself the priest of
the Esquiline practices, you're not raving,
whatever the saliva will bring?
    haven't i overpaid the Paeligni(ne) witches?
do i no longer detect poisonous poisons?!
    even though the parks have extended your age,
you will feel death's pressure all the more.
Pelops' treacherous father Tantal(us),
emptied from the godly feasts, desires respite,
    Prometheus with an eagle by his liver lacquers,
without end, Sisyphus rolls the stone up the hill
endlessly - Jupiter doesn't allow a respite.
you're looking for an escape, jump from the highest
floors,
     with a Norico sword: a naked breast unravel
   (unravel a naked breast)
   or... tighten the rope, on the neck looped...
   chased by not-mind (misunderstanding),
with disgrace's stigma.
in the meantime: onto the back i'll jump on astride,
i'lll big back the earth - incredible joy.
wax(y) puppets will get up, into motion admired,
i will break off the moon from the sky,
    i will revenge satisfaction,
      i will, the dead and the burnt i will resurrect,
with desires' loving magic i will return tormenting,
these tears are for nothing -
      a phantom will enter the suicide.
are you still going to be able to
                               place resistance against art?    


of note:
- Cotytia - rendered Canidia in English
was the first witch of ancient Rome...
- Esquiline "practices?
   Rome was founded on the seven hills...
one of those hills was the Esquiline hill...
the other six are:
   Capitoline, Quirinal, Viminal, Caelian, and Aventine...
- the Paelignī? an Italic tribe - etymologically
associated with the words
    an cognate-mix of
       privignus (stepson) & paelex (concubine) -
most associated (wrongly) with the Sebine women...
mind you... step-parenthood was very prominent
in the upper eshelons of ancient Roman society...
- Pelops - a king of Pisa...
- Tantalus - father of Pelops...
- Noricum - a Celtic confederation of tribes
these days associated with the geographic region of
Austria and Slovenia

eh... language has changed so much...
how Latin didn't survive... i get it...
the modern tongue has many more prepositions...
a long time ago...
nouns / verbs could have inbuilt
conjunctions, prepositions... articles...
that changed with the atoms...
                oddly enough... certain languages haven't
changed that much... Kierkegaard mentions
this changelessness of God...
               English has changed beyond recognition...
******?! hasn't changed that much since
the 13th century...
how we managed to get Italian from Latin...
and... Spanish and French...
              well...
                      today i don't feel like being in awe...

— The End —