"cynical" poems
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Fourteen years old
I love you,
Called out,
A promise of returned affection
Timid, unsure
A response to
Insecurities.
Not true.
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Fifteen years old
Distrustful
Cynical
Confused
Emotions flapping about like lost geese
Nothing like all the before’s
So this is what must be
True.
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Sixteen years old,
That feeling
Tumultuous but calming
Broken yet whole
Lost but found
Your deep, beautiful eyes
Painful beyond belief, yet the best thing I’ve ever felt
Simply, it's true
I love you.
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Seventeen years old,
It’s true
What is?
That
You’re my truth
And
I love you.
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted yet
True.
Seventeen years old,
I love you
But…
I ****** up
I love you
But…
I kissed someone else
We never set boundaries
But….
I know I did wrong
I love you
But…
I truly can’t be with you right now.
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Seventeen years old,
You’re awesome
We’re so similar
So,
I love you?
No,
I realize that belongs to someone else,
But you think it's yours.
And that isn't true.
****
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Seventeen years old,
I hate myself
Because I’ve hurt you
Your pain is killing me
Though really, it’s me
Killing you
I love you,
It's true.
But,
How can you ever forgive me?
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Eighteen years old,
I love you
It’s true
But you’re broken still
And I wish I could heal the horror
I caused
For you.
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Eighteen years old,
I love you
Whispered gently
Deeply
Truly
I want to kiss you
I want to hold you
I want to be with you
Can we, please?
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Eighteen years old,
Yes. We can.
I love you too.
I still truly do.
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Eighteen years old,
I love you
But…
Why are you doing this to me?
Why can’t you talk to me instead of hiding behind the texts?
What’s happening?
Please.
Don’t do it this way.
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Eighteen years old,
Tears
Broken
Mind exploding with assumptions
Intuition telling the worst of tales
Distrustful
Hurt
Why this pain?
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Eighteen years old,
Bitter
Am I jealous?
This isn’t good…
What’s happened to me?
Helpless and
Still true
I love you
But...
Who knows why?
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Eighteen years old,
And here come apologies
A letter…. I love letters
And
I love you too
Still,
Somehow.
It's true.
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Eighteen years old
I don’t know what’s wrong with me
Sad
Hurt
Insecure
Doubtful
Distrustful
Broken
Beyond belief
Empty.
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Eighteen years old
And
I keep crying
I cried because you were so caring towards to me the other day
And it was so sweet.
I cried because you hugged me and let me cry on you
I cried because I love staring into your deep soulful eyes
I cried because I feel so much, all the time, for you
I cried because sometimes I truly hate how much
I love you.
I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.
Eighteen years old,
And goodnight dear one,
I still really do love you.
And, I promise you
All of this is true.
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 2:31 AM UTC
Papers, Papers, Papers
Whiter than aching teeth,
Whiter than whites of tilted eyes,
Whiter than funeral wreaths.
My hands shake as I write this,
Filed away myths; Stolen lined sheets
My index finger chained by red tapes,
words mix and ground breaks,
I'm the one the world forsakes
Yellow maize, littered leaves,
all twisted into
black ink and clean sharp white paper blades.
-------"I am in a bit of daze," I tell myself, "look at those flaccid bits;
there lay the logs who use to be the jungle of my childhood dreams."
------"Don't be amazed," I replied, "these leafless branches and twigs are for
your Papier-Mâché degrees."
So I listen to my second self once,
the more logical cynical satirical one,
Treading on the plot of their paper works,
playing crosswords as anxiety uncork
my thoughts turn to the bankable orcs,
just as my career forks
Maybe I should be like my mother,
Marking numbers on a deck of cards-- waltzing with Chance.
Maybe I should be like my father,
Toiling for some rich men's grandson-- seething in Trance.
Maybe I should be like the Other,
Going along with the system-- thanking myself
beneath a cap, a diploma, a piece of paper.
I wore these books like bank notes tuxedoes,
I was promised the world by the credits I borrowed.
Must I go along with the mechanism of their game,
or should I rise up against all odds
Opposing, debating, rebelling against
this bundle, this trouble, funneling me into no-tomorrows
Or must I write it all down,
in my prayers against their lawyers, who need no reminds
Or must I shred, smear, and tear the papers with my own bare hands
But what will I ever be to them, friends?
A papercut, perhaps.
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 9:33 PM UTC
and i don't even know if i want to kiss your lips or just your skin
because i'm
falling
falling
falling
falling
falling
falling
falling
but i don't want to hit the ground again.
are you sure your arms can hold the weight of my love when it's wrapped in wet clothes?
and are you sure it's the best idea to take this where the wind goes?
i'm not yet sure if love is a real thing
it's just a
beautiful
fictional
deadly
play,
and you still kiss me like i'm sane
but i know it's all just another game
so don't be surprised if i refuse to participate.
and you're like a
cynical
patronizing
inconsiderate
impartial
callous
song,
but your vicious words still gently drag me along.
and i'm not sure if you're really toxic
or it's just all in my head.
because
i love you
love you
ove you
ve you
e you
you
ou
u
or maybe i love when you're in my bed.
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 10:56 PM UTC
**i'm in a dangerous state of mind
with no care for living this life
where human emotions are traded
for less than a pack of rubbers
but you didn't even use those
so how much did i truly mean
when the push came to shove
and grinding hips
with moaning lips
that whispered, screamed,
and cried his name
on the night you ****** my heart away
where loyalty takes a literal backseat
to pleasure
and a long term relationship
is laughing stock material
ha ha standup, ain't i funny
to look for something more than this
but i would choke on my own tongue
before i'd speak bad of you
my backstabbing lover
unfaithful friend
i hope to god it he was worth it
the cost was more than just tears
but blood spray on the bathroom mirror
and an empty place where i once
used to love
permanently empty
i can't find the will to care
more than a few half-hearted,
correct that, heartless
obscenities muttered under my breath
with ****** on my mind
a 3:30am fantasy to help dull
the pain that i should be feeling
maybe i'm just a pessimist,
fatalist, cynical, and negative
but my lack of surprise cuts the most
lied to by my mind for those
two months of my life
that i thought i had it all
better to have loved and lost
but even better to **** it all
and just go out with your name on my lips
and your lies in my heart
i hope you think of me when you're with him
that you choke on your tears
plagued with the worst emotions and loss
a better killer than any gun**
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 9:48 PM UTC
Negativity is meaningful. It's detrimental and cynical. It deluges inside our heads. Making us feel insecure, unwanted and useless. They will prosper and thrive to reach out and make us feel smaller than them, to get inside of our minds and make us look in the mirror and see what we don't want to see. It eventually assassinates our minds. It dwells on top of the positive thoughts. But YOU need to remember that YOU are worth more than anything in this competitive, sick world.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 1:32 PM UTC
i've been off the grid for some time now
even deleted my Facebook account
and all that's left when you search for me
is my mugshot from 2003
i guess i'm just a criminal
nothing to show to the eyes of the world
but I don't care about
proving myself to you
i look around me and all i see
are people looking down at cellphone screens
how many more deaths' by selfie will there be?
i guess i'm just too cynical
nothing to show to the eyes of the world
but i don't care about proving myself to you
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 12:52 AM UTC
The virtuous society Lost regulates overwhelming
DISTASTEFUL
Condescension
Depraved citizens all contained then become cynical
BREAKING
Reprehension
A mandate or suggestive guideline to think like a criminal
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 5:56 PM UTC
My Heart and Mind had a discussion one day,
About a man that they both knew quite well.
The heated discussion continued for hours,
Both with arguments meant to compel.
A debate ensued between the two,
With each taking a different perspective.
The Heart believed the man to be true,
And the Mind thought he was deceptive.
Heart started the discussion with an obvious point,
"He is sweet and gentle like no man before."
Mind responded smugly, "That's great in the moment
but how does he act after she's walked out the door?"
Heart countered, already knowing the point being made.
"Sure, he may not be able to write or call;
He is busy with constant demands of his time.
What he feels in his heart matters most of all."
"I disagree," and Mind continued to say,
"Actions mean far more than words alone.
It is when words and actions are considered together
that a man's true feelings are shown."
"He has to compartmentalize to get through the day."
Heart continued to defend his intentions,
When they are together his feelings are real,
but her insecurities span many dimensions."
"It's funny you would mention compartmentalizing.
Apparently your memory isn't as sharp as mine,
He was once quoted as saying this was not his strength,
proof that his statements don't always align."
"You are cynical, suspicious and guarded."
Heart was clearly tired of this dispute,
"Those traits are clouding your judgement.
He is genuine and telling the truth."
"I think you are overlooking the obvious but
I'll relax and stop doubting his intentions
if he makes an effort to send a simple sign."
Heart and Mind both wanting to prove their point
and have the bragging rights of superiority.
Mind sure that the man would disappoint her;
Heart confident in his genuine sincerity.
Both waited patiently for some type of gesture,
Something to demonstrate that he really does care.
Heart began to worry and whispered to herself,
"Stay calm and trust that it's not just another affair."
Patience prevailed and an email arrived,
just as Heart had hoped and prayed.
Mind, although disappointed by being proved wrong,
was relieved and no longer afraid.
Trust and calm filled her spirit when thinking of him,
but it was both that won in the end.
Maybe they were more than temporary lovers
and could also be permanent friends.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 10:45 AM UTC
THERE'S RUDOLPH, FROSTY, SANTA CLAUS AND GOOD OLD EBENEEZER
THERE'S CAROLS SUNG BY EVERYONE FROM KISS ON THROUGH TO WHEEZER
THERE'S CD'S OUT FROM NAT KING COLE, THE BOSTON POPS HAVE TWO
THERE'S ONE OUT NEIL DIAMOND WHICH IS STRANGE BECAUSE OLD NEIL'S A JEW
THE STORES HAVE TINSEL EVERYWHERE, THEIR TREES TOO,LOOKING NICE
THERE'S WRAPPING PAPER, CHRISTMAS LIGHTS AND EVEN PLASTIC ICE
THEY ATTACK YOUR SENSES CONSTANTLY, THEY MUST THINK I'M A FOOL
FOR ALL THIS STUFF IS ON DISPLAY, BEFORE THE KIDS GO BACK TO SCHOOL
THERE'S A RASTAFARIAN SANTA CLAUS WITH DREADLOCKS KNOWN AS "STONEY"
GENETICALLY ALTERED TURKEY MEAT THAT TASTES JUST LIKE BALONEY
PEOPLE DON'T BUY CHRISTMAS GIFTS THEY SEEM TO JUST GIVE MONEY
SO THEY GO SHOPPING BOXING DAY, AND THIS I FIND QUITE FUNNY
THE CHARITIES ARE ON THE PHONE AND AT YOUR DOOR EACH NIGHT
THEY WORK YOU WITH SOME CHRISTMAS GUILT, AND SAY "IT'S ONLY RIGHT"
TO DONATE TO UNFORTUNATES AND THEIR FOLKS NEED IT MOST"
AS THEY FLASH THEIR SMILES, FAKE I/D'S BEFORE THEIR PHONY BOAST
PEOPLE SHOP AND BUY AND BUY AND THEN THEY ALL RE-GIFT
MOST TIMES YOU'LL GET CHRISTMAS CAKE, THAT'S REALLY HARD TO LIFT
YOU WORK O.T. AND DO YOUR BEST, YOUR CHRISTMAS CASH TO SAVE
AND YOU SMILE WHEN YOU GET YOUR GIFT, AND IT'S THE ONE YOU GAVE
CHRISTMAS IS LESS FESTIVE AND TO ME IT'S GOTTEN RATHER CLINICAL
WITH SCHEDULES MADE AND SALES AND THINGS, IT'S MADE ME RATHER CYNICAL
TO SAY WHAT CHRISTMAS REALLY MEANS, I READ THOMAS ACQUINAS
BUT INSTEAD, I'LL USE A QUOTE FROM SHCULTZ'S PROPHET LINUS
..."AND SUDDENLY THERE WAS WITH THE ANGEL A MULTITUDE OF THE HEAVENLY HOST PRAISING GOD
AND SAYING "GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST, AND ON EARTH PEACE, GOODWILL TOWARD MEN.""
AND THAT IS WHAT CHRISTMAS IS ALL ABOUT....PLAIN AND SIMPLE.
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 3:13 PM UTC
Pariah
Nihilism at its finest
Bleed black the finest shattered diamonds
Of all the lost hopes and dreams
Outcast Society burning in the ruins of fallen Rome
Cynical skeptics, sarcasm dripping venom
Acid burns through flesh blood and bones
No one gives a **** scream for a savior
Outcast Society burning in the ruins of fallen Rome
Shards of glass smile razorblades
Plague of loneliness grips your throat
Heart beats darkness through your veins
**** society, anarchy reigns
Outcast Society burning in the ruins of fallen Rome
Shadow world of gray and stones and broken homes
Bleeding hearts and gutted homes
A black void in collapsing homes
Outcast Society burning in the ruins of fallen Rome
Cesspool of sick and stinking ****
Hungry ravish burning Rome
Parasitic beasts feeding on lost souls
**** you in and never let you go
False promises of help, burning, burning, burning, blackens the sky
Outcast Society burning in the ruins of fallen Rome
Nevermore the sun shines down on the wretched land
Outcast Society burning in the ruins of fallen Rome
This
Is
The
Future
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 9:23 PM UTC
Somewhere, amongst the debris
of cigarettes after ***
chemicals to induce sleep,
I forgot what it means to love.
I forgot what it means to breathe,
to sit still, and just be.
Somewhere, beneath these hooded seams
of solitude and well-versed grief,
beats a heart less cynical,
less tamed by vague distraction.
My nervous ticks and bad habits,
line of best fit for a near-hit
of satisfaction:
This is not enough, I know.
This is not nearly enough
to cool the bray of life
that still rattles meaning in my bones.
I forgot what it means to love,
what separates a house from a home.
Somewhere beyond this thirst
for brand-new words
is a gratitude for all that has been.
Every cliché holds a truth.
Every sentiment, a cocoon,
that I should lie so still inside
until I am wholesome,
until I am new.
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 1:41 PM UTC
Friends, there are many(I think, I hope). So, to be fair, I will respond with this.
"Stricly an Opinion"
October 20, 2014 8:40a.m.
On August 28, 2013, strictly as a novice, and not having posted anything, anywhere, I posted my first two pieces of "literary art" on the HP site. I had previously searched other similar sites until finally deciding on posting with HP. I'm glad I did. Why?
Not knowing what to expect, I threw "1894", and "Folklore and Fairy Tales" into the "mixing bowl". Pradip and Sally were the first to comment, and I will never forget the encouragement their words gave me. Never! Quite often, I go back and re-read them, particularly when I get a little discouraged when the "writers block" syndrome decides to attack. Thank you both, so very, very much!
But that is the core of the HP Family. There is an aura, a special atmosphere of cohesiveness among its contributors, willing to offer(in most cases) constructive criticism without being cynical, and always encouraging each other. Making friends whom we may never see, whose hands we may never shake, but a friendship none the less, that is spread throughout the globe, with the thoughts that will always be there. It is a feeling I did not sense with other sites.
One thing is for certain. We never know what our readers are going to like/dislike on any given day. When we post a piece, of what we may think is the work of "pure genius" could go by the wayside in seconds. On the other end of the spectrum, what we believe is not so great, could trend in minutes.
We will keep trying.
Richard Riddle
copyright: October 20, 2014
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 12:19 PM UTC
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Marshmallow factories
Are covered in goo
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Not all of these
Are going to rhyme
Roses are red
Violets are purple
Whoever wrote that
Was an idiot
Roses are red
Violets are blue
My favorite is Discord
Who used to be Q
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you count in binary
You'll never have 2
Roses are red
Violets are blue
MEEP
Roses are red
Violets are blue, da ba dee da ba daa...
Roses are black
Violets are black
Everything is black
I'm Batman
Roses are blue
Violets are red
Something is wrong
With my head
The Math section is red
Social Studies is blue
I have too much homework
I want to cry
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Please don't get stuck
In the spilled glue
Roses are purple
Violets are green
I'm just here revving
My limousine
Roses are red
They have thorns
Don't touch them
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I want to turn this
Into a haiku
Roses are crimson
Violets are the fairest blue
And so fair are you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
That was pretty good
For being written on the fly
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Ridiculous Inflatable
Swan Thing
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I need to sleep
No
you are so And
sweet is Sugar
blue are Violets
red are Roses
Roses are red
Violets are blue
There is no try
Do not or do
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Dab on those haters
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Think I'll paint them
On my shoe
Roses are red, dilly dilly
Violets are blue
Is this copyrighted, dilly dilly
I have no clue
Lavender's blue
Lavender's green
I store my sanity
In a canteen
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I'm too cynical
And yet too cheesy
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Spellcheck doesn't know meep?!?
Roses are rosy
Violets are violet
I want to be
A submarine pilot
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Something something
Pikachu
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Illuminati
They're watching you
Gryffindor's red
Ravenclaw's blue
WHY IS IT AN EAGLE
NOT A RAVEN
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Be mine
I'm desperate
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I don't want romance
Stop asking
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I'm running low on ideas
We're almost through
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
Don't eat too much
Roses are red
Never mind
Life's too short
Eat all the sugar you can find
Roses are red
Violets are blue
You're still here?
Good job you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Happy Valentines Day
Bye
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 9:41 PM UTC
Love is a public hanging.
I build a beautiful platform
with eloquence
***** the instrument of my demise.
Fully conscious of my impending end
wrap the rope around my throat
she screams the guilty verdict
and soon I dangle,
twitching in the desert breeze.
I'm an immortal criminal, and I never learn,
a perpetual repeat offender.
I’ll soon be swinging from the gallows once again…
it's just a matter of time.
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 5:33 PM UTC
The heart works for the hard work,
beating constantly as targets are acquired.
Shots fired, money wired and payments aplenty.
Contacts signed, terms and conditions defined,
it could take time, but the ***** rolling.
Touch base as we reach for the stars,
customers in charge, their business is ours.
We roll monthly, comfortably in our own domains,
renew them annually again as the pattern remains the same.
Some days, it's a struggle to get out of the pit,
feeling burnout, lack energy for my daily workout.
The wage ain't great but the dividends could add up to millions.
Some are cynical but I won't listen to those opinions.
I treat my staff as people not minions.
No need for incidents were a team of individuals.
Passionate and driven creatures,
hidden features and secret keepers.
Let's get money and lets get paid,
Theres a million ways we can earn more than the minimum wage.
Let's raise the bar, the city is ours and the worlds not too far away...
Dream tomorrow and live today.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 8:19 AM UTC
They enter the café just as some sappy pop song is playing
They order then immediately hug
Embrace
Swaying to one side, together, like the wind
Encircling the leaning tower of Pisa
Then teetering to the other solstice
Foot to foot, smile to smile, hand round skirted waist
Forearm resting on his tall blazered shoulders
This is forgivable in the young
Those teeny-boppers with defiant hair-cuts and posters
However, he has peppered hair
She, though voluptuous and tanned,
Must be in her 30s.
“Affair.”
My cynical devil snickers, between sips
But I sit mesmerized, and for the first time ever
Envious.
The chairs and the tables somehow seem more distant
The song now sounds as if it’s funneled through some crackling phonograph
The very light disentangles itself from stones
It’s as if a sky has opened up in my chest
Flying high overhead, one lone raven,
Its slow shadow
Gliding across my heart
Oh, how I miss you
5 states away
I see your smile on magazine covers
I vaguely sniff your scent on passing women
Yet you remain elusive - immaterial, haunting,
While this visceral assault
Leaves me bewildered - empty
An echo in a chiaroscuro cavern
Fading for thee
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 5:31 PM UTC
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 8:30 AM UTC
Ridding the Dark Shadows that lie,
Deep adumbrations of the past;
That lurk within close quarters
Is an ever present cynical task.
By this, I mean, the scoundrels will always be near.
But not to live within us, nor to cause us fear.
Their presence simply affirms that we're living in the light;
Because Shadows are never visible in the dark of night.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
I'm having trouble getting out of bed lately.
It seems id rather dream because that's the only place i don't hate me.
Cynicism is my confucianism bury my coffin shallow so i can still fell the rain.
I can't stand the lack of pain.
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 7:08 AM UTC
A hymn to paired planethood: Venus hits Pluto
as death, in cold orbit, collides with biology
smashing to fragments: demonic astrology
(more a black hole than a love-star, it’s true though).
Cynical cure for Eve’s womanly grievance
Concupiscent consequence: lust’s bitter fruit –
ah the thought… changing Sin into mere inconvenience.
Margaret sang her seductive refrain
about weeding the garden and progress and light.
Her sisters should view her with scornful disdain
but instead have adopted her murderous rite.
With sang-froid she promoted her racist eugenics
(as if she had never herself been a fetus),
condemning her heirs to postmodern polemics
while nurturing ardent desires to defeat us.
Suppressing the lives that she flushed down the drain
she would liberate Death – and resistance was vain.
As a midwife to modern life (though on the “anti” side)
Old Matron Margie racked up quite a legacy
singing the praises of sanctioned infanticide
calling the shots for the coming sick century.
Planning, quite calmly, to “cleanse” certain races
her zeal was empowered by murderous graces.
She labored to bring us such pearls of subduction:
“dilation and curettage”, “women’s autonomy”
“viable fetus”, “procedure”, a “suction”
Hippocrates retches to hear the taxonomy;
words that turn Life into mere reproduction.
She enters the realms of the ****** and the motherless
roundly condemned by her feminine otherness.
Man’s first protection: the God-given womb
which no infant should have to regard as their tomb.
Dismembered dark cherubs, assembling, greet her
as demons (in scrubs) holding baby-parts meet her.
Long may she burn with the medical cynics
this mother of Moloch, this founder of clinics.
Convenience is king when abortion’s the Queen
and the profits swell big with each nubile teen…
yet the fruit of such carnage remains to be seen.
I send her this song as a funeral wreath
and a card inked in blood. You may read what is there:
“To the Matrix Supreme of our culture of death
from the souls of the infants you slew on the earth.
May your torment increase with the children you bear.”
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
I wrote a letter to my 12-year-old self and
It went something along the lines of
“Love Yourself”
but counselling office posters read the same
things so I ripped it up.
See, I used to think that I could fly into the
Sun and it would feel like a warm hug, nothing
So drastic as incineration
Then I saw what could happen to pallid skin on
a hot day and my mindset changed.
I wrote a letter to my 10-year-old self and it
Was more like a warning,
(a red light is flashing, don’t fly into that tower)
Don’t let yourself become cynical
Don’t forget to call your grandmother
Don’t get so caught up in making money that
You’ve forgotten what it means to be a kid
You should be doing loop-the-loops around
That tower,
Roll upside-down, see your city like a bird.
Don red, bleach your apron, do something
Radical to it.
This has become the unsung song of your life
You’ve forgotten to live.
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 7:17 PM UTC
Timmy got a bike,
Timmy ******* died.
Timmy's mother drank,
Timmy's father cried.
And it rained.
It rained for five days and six nights,
and although it stopped raining on the sixth day, the sun did not shine.
It's the movement,
iOS7, download tonight,
Timmy's bike was red,
his friends thought it was tight.
Timmy got a bike,
(Each day we all feel a bit more like Bukowski, a bit more cynical)
Timmy ******* died.
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC