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mike dm Jun 2014
Deep down
I crave the sacred
Now that everything is
Just a dust mote limping along
The curvature of a light beam
in this dilapidated house

I've winked
At everything but the kitchen-sink --
Although, I do have my eye on it

Cynic
Know-it-all that knows he knows
Nothing
Conflicted

I wish I knew subtlety

Mona Lisa's quarter-smirk
Makes my emojis feel
Sorta slutty --
like they try too hard ya know?

^.^

Heaven:
Rainbow-colored
toothbrush mustaches
And
Killer drones friended by elm trees

Dissimulation is
my religion
Because
it just explains things,
It walks back the big crutch
It makes gods into amoebas

All. I. have. are. words.
******* scribbles.
Stillborn syntactical limbs of whim
Severed at the moment of send

Yet still
I deliver and hold them
Close to me
They are my ex-press
A last confession straight to the quick

The world doesn't spin it screams
We just Van Gogh it with
Slurry nite nite sleep tight's

God, what I would *give
Chuck Feb 2013
Do not dissimulate from life
Lethargy instills apathy
Droning everything bores you
Nothing gets your blood boiling

Truth evades your gray cornea
Your persistence is persuasive
Petite energy emitted
Exhausted to convince numbness

You are the youth, the world’s future
Dissimulation not an option
Wave the white flag. We’ll still wage war
Never will you conquer concern

My comrades in texts and I’ll fight
To give hope, future, and success
Or we will perish in battle
Content knowing we truly cared

PLEASE CARE ABOUT YOURSELF!
Bob B Oct 2018
The king of cover-up is at it again,
Downplaying financial ties
And close connections with other countries,
Especially when questions arise.

First it was with Putin and Russia.
How much collusion remains to be seen.
Conspiracy in election meddling?
Whitewashing is now routine.

And then there was the hush-money
To cover-up some hanky-panky.
Dissimulation's easy when
You've got money in the banky.

It looks as though you must deny
And try to hide actions you rue,
But calling your fling "horse face," is that
A gentlemanly thing to do?

Now the cover-up deals with the Saudis--
With the crown prince and the Saudi king.
Denial…admittance…rogue players…
It has such a familiar ring.

After bragging over and over
About the millions of dollars he's made
From wealthy Saudis, his words are now
Exploding like a hand grenade.

When the leader has conflicts of interest,
Critics, pundits, and others who know
Where his interests really lie,
Shrug and say, "We told you so!"

He says he has a "natural instinct
For science." Isn't THAT a joke!
I wish his "natural instinct" was for
Telling the truth whenever he spoke.

-by Bob B (10-18-18)
Storm Mar 2014
Between you and me,
Those lies have come crashing on
Reality,
Fake
Pretenses stripped off of
Our nakedness; look
At all the scars on our bodies.
****** flaws.  
These tattoos I’d hidden from you. All conversations ever do,
Under the dissimulation of words
(I could laugh),
Lash out at us the acute lack
Of conversations. The absence
Of meanings, the shredded ruins of laughter, some very
Jagged melodies that cannot be
In-tuned into a single code, no no.  Courtesies.
These
Courtesies have put up quite a show.
What has become of us. It is sad.
Ted Wallace Mar 2010
Droning a monotone note,
Rocking back and forth,
complaining of a sore throat,       
I witnessed a man go insane.

Down the street from the store
By the grey abstruse sign on the back door,     
 He did a quick shake. . . .     
 He did a quick shake. . . .
To the acrid taste of an apple.
With his begrimed hair and dark eyes,
He pulled out a paper and started to recite his final goodbyes,     
 O darkness!
Swaying, syncopated with his incoherent words,
He imagined a world with only birds.      
Sweet world!
Coming from the innards of his soul.      
  O darkness!
In a deep voice filled with dissimulation,
I heard that man whisper,     
  “Ain’t got nothing to think of,      
Ain’t got nobody but my self.     
 I’s a lonely man,      
And I find no reason to prove it to oneself.
Thump, thump, thump, went his heart against his chest,
He thought back on his life, and was not impressed-      
“I cant find comfort,      And I can’t be satisfied.      
Can’t find comfort      And can’t be satisfied—     
 I ain’t got a care,      And I wish that I had died.”

And for a long time he sat there.The sun came up and went down.
The man got up and started to walk without a destination.
While he was stuck in a state of disconsolation.
He closed his eyes-to die-or to engage his imagination.
Odonko-ba Aug 2016
He sits on the edge of the world
unconcerned with the
dissimulation of
polite society
busy little bee's
bouncing off reality
living the dream he
so valiantly fought to protect
he sits there quietly
saturated in *****
manufactured of
white port fueled
by memory of war
contemplating
nothing
invisible to most
but still
a blight upon their sensibilities and
a horrid fright to the eyes when seen
cold hungry and shivering
they could give a **** to his welfare
they cogitate his insanity
his own undoings
and that smell
the smell of death
lurking  waiting to pounce
on yet another of society's outcast
putrid sores covers flesh uncovered
where gnats and flies feast
and maggots dine beneath the skin and
his breath
his breath  smells of Dragon Blood
do we even know what Dragon Blood is?
apparently he does
two tours in Vietnam an a Purple Heart for bravery
yet he sits on the edge of the world
bravely trampled underfoot of apathy
absent of coalition
he wishes only to be left alone
to dance in the pain
of degredation
and waltz in the face of death
until God calls him to reckoning
he will sit there on the edge of the world
listening to
the mundane idiocrasy of those who wander by
left to his own maundering
invisible that is
until the olympics come to town
For those whom has been cast out - and forgotten.
The Forgotten Jun 2017
Her soul's poetry
Written  in deep dark ink,
Gushing through her veins
Etched across her bones
A tale untold

The world rebounds on touching her surface
Nothing ever leaves a mark
Or atleast
That is what she makes believe

Breathing life ,
She walks into the crowded room
Hidden behind her jokes and laughter.
Comedy weaving up the tragedy .
Humour , the only link to her sanity.
She breathes
Broken,  unnoticed.


The world brushes past her touch
Blind.
Oblivoius to the struggle.
Her mind, toxic to her soul
Her skin, her veil.

Yet, her pillows talk of red swollen eyes
And endless nights
Gazing at the moon
Half hidden beneath the clouds
Reflecting light
To cloak the darkness seeping within .

She draws her blinders shut
While her guitar weeps her wounds
The cadence of misery
Into the world of rhythm, she slips.

When shall the masquerade end ?

She walks away
Into the fog
On her own

Brick after brick
A fortress she built
And locked within her own incarceration,
Short haired rapunzul
Afraid to let the knight reach within .
vows of saviours, never heed.

Her facade, flawless
Yet not deceiving those little eyes
Searching for the truth beneath the illusion.
Decrypting the inscrutable dissimulation.

To those pair of eyes,
Slowly fading into oblivion
Lost within it's own ceaseless blue
Seeking for the line between the black and grey.
Her voice , liberating .
Finding its way within the chaos,
Resuscitating.
Giving life to a long forgotten voice
which whispers,
"Take off the masque, You're beautiful. "
jeffrey conyers Dec 2013
Don't conform to another bad habits.
Transform from them.
Be that living sacrifice.
One that's holy, acceptable unto God.

Think not too highly of yourself than you should.
Every part of us is required to create love.
We all have a talent that's vital to humanity.

We live according to our  proposition of faith.
We all have the power to minister or teach.
Even that don't mean leading a congregation of a church.

Our love should be without dissimulation.
Let no one ruin the good within you.
In other words, let not evil control your mood.

For in the end, you'll be judged by those you meet.
voodoo Oct 2019
I'm here once more, but then again when was I not?

as if my eyes have ever shifted from my reflection. I'm sick of it.

I don't know how long I've been here; this dimly lit trap gives away no time.

all else melts around me, pools into ripples of my distorted reality.

I sit and I watch my face. I long for the familiarity of yesteryears that I cannot trace.

my skin yawns open, wills to consume itself - porous, velutinous, and brittle.

this is who I am, this is what I see:

tyrian purple flesh decomposing, falling inside my bones that split and splinter;

my mind climbing out of my head, fugitive from the skull's prison;

breaths, ribbons of grotesque, not deep enough to last and not shallow enough to be numbered.

everything without is human (decaying though it is), and everything within is dissimulation.

this molten, fragmented un-being doesn't escape my sight. these eyes have cried out for respite -

and yet they exist, the odd and sole constant in the mirror before them -

wistful for oblivion and feasting on fear. what's gone has kept me alive for longer than it appears.

this body doesn't even feel real. my fingertips burn at every touch.

what more shrapnel does this heart desire until it plays out its final beat?
rrscc Jan 2019
Who, I am, is just the following of what,
What, I am, is just a stone away from where,
Where, I am, is just sails away from why,
Why, we are, is a planet away of who.

Who I am is just a person wearing a pretence,
What I am is just a character of what I try to commence.
Where I am, is this visage, carrying the drama in this scene,
Why we are, is where I merely am playing my part, as my actions are already set in the figurine.

It’s not adequately unexpected for the viciousness that is presented in human forms,
Its pretentious validity, in various forms, in vivid and foolproof flaws, as veteran as victim it withholds.
He desert, hides, cloaks or flees. He screams, breaks, vanish, retreats. He hides, shields, masquerade and juggles. All of these patterns that run in circles and hobbles.

We are not disarmed as much by the sword or bullet but rather by our past,
The whispers, the memories, the mistreat that is amassed.
For I too will have vengeance for myself,
For I plan a vendetta that will never be forgotten, and will haunt thyself.

To effectively grow I have to push past the point of my comfort zone and experience inhumane situations,
No expectations of thoughts and feelings, no blank lines or allowance of consultations because I will lose myself and make my own insinuation.

So please let your anger, hate, *******, intimidation,
Your screams, betrayal, pain, instigation
Thy emotions, force, projections and manipulation,
Be my entertainment that only helps my dissimulation.

For who, I am, is just the following of what,
What, I am, is just a stone away from where,
Where, I am, is just sails away from why,
Why, we are, is the vendetta that’s been bought.
Joseph Sinclair Feb 2022
Words are not enough.
Those that are not meaningless
may simply lack importance
or else be capable of
myriad interpretations.

Let us set aside dissimulation
and deception by flattery.
Let’s put an end to empty words
or unctuous, or sanctimonious,
holier-than-thou, obsequious,
intended-to-deceive euphemisms.

Words that were the greatest boon
to civilization: that made it possible
for humans to engage in dialogue,
to see inside each other’s hearts,
to identify each other’s needs
and substantiate our own,
took on, eventually, another role.

Time it is to recognize
how words have now become a tool
for scoundrels to dissemble.
Time it is to liberate the human heart
from language that holds us in thrall.

Time it is to reconnect
with our humanity.
irksomely chafe and dig
(analogous to a bit size backhoe -
contracted courtesy local builders
Gambone Brothers) inside lip
on left side front of mouth
not surprisingly creating
quasi irritated sore welt
(as if I got smacked in the face

from out of the blue)
achingly painful dilemma
particularly whenever I bite and chew food,
which compromised mastication
seriously prompted eating soft
(goo goo gaga baby) with no pablum,
or yours truly switching
to a liquified diet of worms.

Aforementioned minor
physical oral ailment
reminiscent when yours truly
donned, sported, and touted braces
(on two separate occasions)
to double necessary rites of passage
since yours truly
glutton for punishment
while segueing from adolescence
into young adulthood

gifted with moderate sized overbite,
yet not full fledged
buck teeth the first go around,
where metal brackets
and/or little pins pierced, jabbed,
gouged, et cetera
into tender gummy flesh
generally unpleasant nasty encounter
super tramping as
cheaply tricked out human pin cushion
****** well right.

Methinks of the hours of veritable torture
spent seated in orthodontic chair,
where initial appointment
found me situated with maw opened
for stretches of time
that would be dwarfed
by subsequent pluperfect future hours
getting a numb bony ***
while veritably held hostage
courtesy the vise grips of dental technician.

I can never forget
experiencing preliminary step
into requisite initiation
getting an eventual smile
worth a million bucks
firstly to create gap (wide enough
to drive a mack truck thru),
which spacers essentially
little rubber squares
(at most an inch long)
to allow, enable
and provided leverage buyout
paid for by a pretty penny
prior to getting metal bands
bonded and insured to pearly whites.

Adjustment to being fitted
for dentures didst overly bite
recounted, recircled, and recapitulated
analogous when jaws underwent restructuring
where aforesaid maxillofacial territory
felt subjected to miniature
jackhammer and dynamite
forthwith adumbrated as memory takes flight
re-envisioning maximum headroom
affecting yours truly experiencing whiplash

as countless hands practically reached
into me ******* plunging
dentistry implements and gloved fingers
into buccal cavity
from soaring wuthering height
nearly choking yours truly
expediting at expense of mine cavum oris
carrying out veritable
fishing and hunting expedition
courtesy overhead jacklight

figuratively yanking tooth
and nail mustering might
allowing, enabling and providing opportunity
for tomorrow's dental practitioners
essentially dental students namely neophyte
took stab at a subjected human Guinea Pig -
as relegated to scientific experimentation
I tried to be agreeable and polite
at the mercy of said novitiate quite right,
now crafting epistle as a toothless troglodyte.

     Never during the story of my life asper present moment, whereby this body electric then witnessed LVIII celebrations of a womb dar full in utero gestation, and subsequent exit per birth canal in one direction ejected like some **** the torpedo or other lobbing hand grenade, or discharging any other type of ballistic military ordnance and after twice undergoing beautification of ma smile; first enduring gagging on quick hardening cement as benchmark impressions, spacers, thence soon followed by wearing braces.
     Membership to this adolescent rite of passage entailed requisite name calling as the victim remained mum imposed incommunicado what with wires that jabbed, pricked, and stuck every square inch of gums teasing the tillerman tongue felt furrowed plow as soft tissue became abundantly blistered chafed, and diced raw.
     Numerous teeth extractions later (which did smarted my wisdom), the drill mongering requisition team (incorporating a rooted right bitewing conspiracy), said prisoner interrogation attained the pinnacle of pain per practiced collaboration between vaunted, sainted long in the tooth professionally smocked specialists.
     These accredited, certified, and licensed torturers frenziedly insouciantly cackled with hair rising, maniacal, spine tingling pleasure while intermittently interrogating strait jacketed anesthetized subjected patient.
     Thee prisoner of Zenda implanted with gag reflex additionally besieged to a battery of expensive costly abuse.
     Such quaint ratified regular rigmarole included suctioning lips til dry as sawdust in preparation for (not to be mist witnessing open mouthed wide world) recalcitrant subject handily restrained as he/she barely weathered unpalatable quintessentially royally smitten to the nerve.
     This electric kool acid test basically pitched the heavily sedated sorely saddled seated subject into a novel threshold of oral suffering.
     The confederated legion of amalgam hated plaque attackers banded teeth forcing a tectonic shift of pearly whites to relocate closing gaps, where uber an crowdsource rank and file groupon identity guard did lyft suspected gumption, hence a healthy dose of x-rays served up to nip in the bud involving any tongue in cheek intervention, when perfectly viable molars thinned i.e. uprooted courtesy of orthodontic gang.
     Now incremental movement could be undertaken pursuant impressing well-brushed aides de camp.
     Thus temporarily crowns vis a vis provisional proviso practitioners of the villainous periodontal disease (qua gingivitis) stitching cavity where exposed synapses earned the chair rushed survivor of fiendish, ghoulish, and insidious enamel (tartar) scraping chieftains earning kudos sans at successfully foiling dental caries, plus serving as grandee enamel polisher.
   All that excruciating agony iterated above, now finds me shaking this mangy hirsute, (albeit thinning) head in consternation, frustration and induction, whereby microbial demons exercised, foisted and galvanized necessity to suffer.
     Interestingly enough, these choppers, dentures, false dentate much more pleasing that the real bone marrow wrought teeth courtesy of many a fraternal gauntlet hugger mugger.
     Maxillofacial surgery and wisdom teeth extraction plus abiding by the codas, edicts and general indemnity keeping American Dental Association in lockstep with noblesse oblige purveyors who tout regular dental hygiene.
     This new fangled cusp cutting prosthetic revolution per anatomical equipage that allows, enables and provides the means to return to masticating brought protracted hermetically sealed dissimulation within the noggin of this more tell male, who confesses to be a non student within the hierarchy of a bricks and mortar storied (perhaps ivy coated) institution of higher learning on account of rampant mental debility hashtagged diagnosis of Schizoid Personality Disorder cobbles, hobnails, and mangles any ability to function within the formal classroom. Case in point comprises the twelve years of veritable enslavement while barely getting promoted from one grade to the next.
     Even though handed a high school diploma XL (pipelined) traipsing orbitz ago around the sun, this contemplative, furtive, and intuitive lvii chap experienced horrendous difficulty ******* mine faux pas figurative heals up until the recent present. The acquiescence to relinquish the prospect to batten down anxiety and panic strewn hatches turned the tide, and found me giving up the good fight.
     A congenital biochemical mutation (I cannot expound on the minutiae of amino acid, enzymes, polymer, et cetera) that wrought havoc viz zit head upon thyself when in the throes of adolescence, despite thine late mum purportedly experiencing NO complication with me birth as a full term healthy baby boy.

— The End —