"escapist" poems
Embracing His Solace!
In solace mountains scaled.
Solidarity stands strong.
Between two upstanding.
Love matters minimally.
Grace relaxed in cultured elegance.
Company not desired much.
Cries alone.
Dies alone.
Does he moan.
No deals granted.
Pours another escapist drink.
Needed to **** or release the lurking tears.
Forced to descend thy tender cheeks.
Solace found also in my place.
Want no-one to invade my space.
Love freedom to be mine.
Detest freedom myself at times.
Then I to cry.
Flood rivers rarely.
Too selfish to co-exist.
Although your heart and soul I've missed.
No deals wanted.
Love never denied!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 10:16 AM UTC
I'm an escapist
Who indulge in escapism
But no matter how far I run
My demons, they take chase.
Into the waters I hid
Drowned by the sound of water pouring
Yet they came to me
In forms of crimson red
Dripping as I slipped.
So I went up high
Onto the mountain top
But they followed me up
And made me want to fall.
I couldn't bear it longer
I dived deep into books
Hoping words would bore them
As they so oftenly do to plenty.
It worked for a brief moment
But they found the tiniest hole in my head
During rests
They race into me.
It seems like no matter where I go
Or what I do
I can never shed them off.
All I ever wanted
Was to **** them all.
But they seem to replenish twice the number
Of the minute I've removed.
I don't know what to do anymore
Escaping no longer work.
**I am an escapist
Trying to escape escapism.**
(c.c)
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 11:20 AM UTC
i am a liar
thought i could fool anyone
but i couldn't fool me.
i am a liar
about things
mostly feelings.
i am a liar
that said i moved on
nights i'll mourn
i am a liar
an escapist
never a realist.
i am a liar
yes, it's a sin
but it's how i cope
to continue to hope.
Nov 10, 2016
Nov 10, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
never been addicted to the pursuit
loaded the gun but i would never shoot
i like where i am, i understand now
just had to see how it panned out
escapist oasis, touching land now
swam in muddy waters, searched for myself
thought i knew better, looked outside myself
follow the river into the ocean’s mouth
swallow my pride and shut my mouth
observe and serve
discern and curve
Sep 30, 2022
Sep 30, 2022 at 6:09 AM UTC
#*Promises, I make only to keep
You are a friend and that’s sacred to me
I will be holding space, for us, you see
My words safe in my heart
The hurt mine to behold
My inhibitions, fears
Tears and distance I keep
To elevate and alleviate
You may bring your words
My silence, I’ll keep
It’s been a while, the spoken words I’ve bartered for the written
Won’t give either to you
Escapist I am not
Happy in the crowd, smile and gel
Safely guarded by my shell
Mellowed with age
Outbursts few and defences weak
Empathy, I don’t seek
It’s only human
To let go and carry on
Looking fine and beyond
As quitting is not done*#
Dec 10, 2018
Dec 10, 2018 at 3:37 AM UTC
There was this boy I knew,
with messy brown hair and
mesmerizing pale blue eyes.
He held some sort of sorrow
that no one could decipher.
The blue eyed boy seldom spoke
and when he did, it was about escaping.
‘What could a fourteen year old boy -
who came to every single class
but sat in a corner with his book closed
- know about escaping?’ I thought.
It was then I realize:
he wasn’t an escapist; he was a dreamer.
W.H.Y~
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 3:29 AM UTC
"I wanna be best
Like no one ever was"
These words bring back
Memories of times long gone
"I travel across the land
Searching far and wide"
Whenever i feel down and out
I enter the escapist paradise
"I choose you"said Ash Ketchum
It flashed on the television screen
Now so many years have gone by
But the nostalgia doesn't leave
Walking on Mt. Coronet
As I traverse space and time
"Too much water"
Maybe but that's where Hoenn shines
Whenever the world outside
Brings the news of gloom
I go to Pallet town
And start a new journey from my room
Life is not black N white
When necrozma covers the sun and moon
On my Volcorona I ride
Through johto in search of suicune
I lose myself in Lumiose
The city of dazzling gleam
You are my sword ,my shield
And they say ,"just a fictitious being"
It maybe a children's game
But everyone's got a little child
Inside of them.Just a bunch of pixels but
They transport me to a simpler time
Just for a moment there
All the wrongs of the world disappear
In the Pokemon world I lose myself
Been lost for so many years
"You teach me
I teach you"
It's much more than an yellow rodent to me
"I choose you"
Pokemon
Feb 26, 2021
Feb 26, 2021 at 11:34 AM UTC
*the ones warring on the flag of defeat can't be called either troll or parasite... too noble such entitlements, they are the **** genus worthy of ignorance, that they are found roaring on the flag of defeat, when such publicity is allowed of public musing deeper than soft-spoken in one's own room, as transcript of thought made public, ironically without one's geographic coordinates... and what lack of honour to be warring with such circumstances being allowed.*
i shouldn't have written my words among poets,
too many simplicities surrounded them,
with the poets came made surrogates,
a stillbirth, if nothing more
9 months of **** as the new economics
that gave us appreciative homosexuality,
a curbing of the expeditions of population
we didn't blame on Chinese or Blue Indians
due to having inherited masochistic Christianity,
the last greek mythology, THE, LAST!
and no more from the greek tongue! no more!
then the second feat of the suffragettes
that became the surrogates...
and yet, i stilled braved to sing
for the escapist tongue of
brotherhood that the misty mountain's cold
encapsulated... in which i braved
the brotherhood, every, second, counter,
to marriage to a woman...
domestication is no adventure! it's no adventure!
there is no fear and sudden death in
domestication... it breeds cattle! readied for
death not ready! *two dungeons deep and caverns old...
the pines were roaring on the hight!
the winds were mourning in the night...
the fire was red it flamed and spread,
the trees like torches, blazed with light.*
this... this is my ideal afterlife! take your Koran
and terrorism and take a **** in the desert with
the cats for worth of knowing such "exquisiteness"
as it might be worth mining in the dunes of sand!
while the thirst of metalloid and abstract horse-tow
gives your false timing...
and when you take this anger written on the flag
of defeat, and turn to warring with it on your own
flag of defeat... you will be conquered,
slain and tortured, as is my promise, always
honourable.
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 7:36 PM UTC
The Time For Humanity To Mature Has Not & Would Never Come. Read on - be intrigued.
Now that I believe for a long time after I attained the age of 22 years on 23rd December, 2012.
Many of the spiritual literature pieces are just contradictory to themselves, why would HE let the occurence of any trouble then and hold only the other end of a jittery life helping us cross to the other end safe & fine?
If you would excuse this question saying "HE can never be questioned and HE alone is the destructor & the creator," then it's just a desperate excuse which you hold to considering theism as flawless & unquestionable, me & any similar people as psychos, or perhaps losers.
I don't discourage theism nor do I encourage anybody to share similar thoughts as mine, but I myself don't encourage idling over the concept of the special spiritual unseen power. I agree that some phenomena like love, kindness, greed, lust & hatred can't ever just be scientifically explained in total completeness by just citing some natural laws of nature or physics. But then again why do we often indispensably need that imaginary hand above our heads for protection or more than often have to spend money in praise of the imaginary hand above our heads?
Any mention about theists' escapist nature would be countered by their many statements of the following kind:
o Us theists, we don't escape problems, we just gather courage when we have identified a problem in our lives by remembering the imaginary hand above our heads sheltering us from all troubles and then tackle the problem with enough strength.
o Theism does neither lack anything divinity nor does it lack even anything evil, both of them are manmade concepts, the world was created as a perfect place for the existence of human race.
o Instead of just leaving us all alone in this troublesome world, He has sent few of His men and we can blindly follow them to resolve our own specific troubles with solutions ideated around age-old books written by great men and we don't need anybody to question our faith wherever it is.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
Nothing more than an escapist.
How do you expect to achieve in life, people ask.
But the question altogether misses the point. The escapist does not want to
achieve. He simply wants to get away.
Sep 10, 2012
Sep 10, 2012 at 11:59 AM UTC
not a papist or ****** or shapist
but enjoying a curve
not an escapist
lacking the nerve
not a florist, tourist or activist
unless its summer time
and certainly not an alchemist
no water into wine
a lovely smiley altruist or artistically quite loud
but sadly failed when drawing
kindness from the crowd
mist
gist
fist
hoping to desist in being a monarchist
and always very eager on not being dogmatist
but still I really strongly emphatically insist
that faddist, fauvist fashion
is only a passing passion
for the narcissists among us
realist
publicist
terrorist
humbly suggesting that zeitgeist
is an ist
but failing to enjoy the line
being a fatalist
not a facist, xylophonist or anything with isms
just a bad contortionist
with creeping rheumatism
determining the future through a timely
cruel twist
whilst realising ultimately
I’m just
a sad typist
Aug 19, 2011
Aug 19, 2011 at 7:10 AM UTC
*The world is trapped in a thick haze,
which is why no one wants to be themselves these days.
They are watching; circling like vultures,
while slowly washing away my colors.
Bandages and "sorry" don’t fix bullet holes,
decaying people have decaying goals.
Do not dare to dream of something bigger,
when your friend is shaking with their finger on the trigger.
Childhood songs are stored within,
like ink is etched into my skin.
My youth they stole; they left me plain,
with venom quickly crashing through my veins.
We are all but pilot episodes,
failing to ever make it as we go.
Like lost souls we flourish through the night,
searching for originality to make us shine bright.
Society; your cage is officially suffocating,
our lives you so ruthless is dominating.
The truth I speak is so loud you can not ignore,
because this is not another harmless metaphor.*
I declare war.
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 12:29 PM UTC
With an outsider's eye, I can see
All those intricacies of humanity:
Of bonding and ********
Of the chase and the courtship;
Of the unpursued, unrequited, jealousy;
Of the stupor, depression and loneliness;
Of the escapist, deluded and attention seeker;
Of the ambitious, treacherous and dangerous;
Of the self-contained and the self-obsessed.
A microcosm flowing through a beer garden.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
when you pull away
I hope you breathe
in fertile space
birthing trueyou
however I know
your patterns now:
when it gets hard, you
often coat confusion
rage and anguish
in diversion skin
grabbing angels
(or lost souls)
obscuring view
I may be obtuse
but you upperhand
with blinders
though I like to think
you're going full lotus
you may just be
escapist frolicking
in the park
do what you got to
open all the doors
that beckon you
I did
and will
(when the U co-signs)
their insides brim
invitations to
lessons or
blissings
walk with honor
next to them
just don't forget
the who you knew
beyond skin
the one you love and resist
for the same reason
prismatic eyeing
searing through
Grade A hiding
new school gypsy
alpha span omega
altared fēniks uprising
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 8:45 PM UTC
it's like we never left mt. calvary
2018 is 2015 again
only my escapist mechanisms
no longer work
i get lost in this endless cycle
of troughs and crests
this constant pursuit for a home
is like a sickness that never gets better
these pathogens that have found
refuge in my heart have grown
ultra-resistant to the medicine
they no longer want to leave
why do i still wake up?
i've been asking for deliverance
for years but
i guess heaven is not a
wish-granting factory
and God is not a genie
do you miss our catching-up
sessions?
the ones where you ask me
if i can still get up
in the morning and
i ask you if you still
cry yourself to sleep at night
oh, right, those never happened,
because you never had
the strength to care
and i never had
the guts to ask
for time
and maybe that's why
whenever i try to write
it always ends up as
an apology letter
(that you won't ever get to read)
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 2:30 PM UTC
The things you swept beneath the rug
The skeletons in your closet
Draped in dusty yesterdays
Reek of rotten some days
That must've found a place
The things you swept beneath the rug
All covered in deceit
She saw tomorrow in your eyes
As you hummed her yesterday lulla-byes
The skeletons in your closet
Some were people you used to be
When weaponized words wore
Bitter scars
And you forgot how anyone elses world could seem
The skeletons in your closet
With names like punkin and sweet
Filled your bed
As you hoped for empty eyes
Have you found now how people cant fill you up
With Houdini escapist stays
In life
The things you sweep beneath the rug
The skeletons in your closet
Things a cruel conscience won't set free
Do they find you when we're weak?
In a nighttime reminiscent mind
When you'll admit that your heart does beat
Things I knew you swept beneath the rug
But I never thought one of them would be me
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 4:32 AM UTC
reconnected images
toes in rich soil
toiling under the yoke
spatially
fleeting fancy of freedom
fades
pages turn
returning me to the ground
I roamed as a child –
forgotten foothills
beacon
as property brokering
binds me to the earth
monetarily
owning my homeland
by the acreage –
white privilege escapist
seeking grid-less domain
sustainability with a suntan
in the cool Oregon rain
draining the infrastructure
through government backed loans
forever indebted
as the backs of my fellow countrymen
are buying my dream in America –
wrecked inspectors trek Tibet
for the almighty dolla dolla bill ya’ll
signing off on trash
commission driven misgivings
serving up dry rot and mold spots
on a flooded lot
I shield myself against the tide of ********
seeking information
in the age
namesake
heartbroken realtors
dot the horizon
holding contractual obligation
waving it frantically
begging –
seeking perfection
sneaking suspect-tion
any direction
needing contraception
fleeting misconception
leading to direct loans
hearing the same groans
as she is reading the next home
listing……..
throwing fists into the air
I swear
if I didn’t care so much
to handle the deed
I would rent
for
life –
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
Four black matchstick legs
with white strike tips
large belly and a strong black haired back
Gunk in his eyes and
behind the top of his long ears
he leans into delight
strong torse against leg
behind swaying in the breeze
belly rubs and dominance
the possessively agressive- toilet paper connoisseur
arthritis in his back right leg
I the nightly electronic chair lift
squatter on grass green blanket
I was away when it got worse
no acclimation
full on hell storm
ten years ago...
second grade he pooped in the hallways
he's grown out of the escapist gene
looking back now with our loving eyes
my best friend and brother
Spyro: My Brother Dog.
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
She sits with her thoughts
They're pretty **** loud
Keeping her company
Underneath the cloud and haze
Of talk, laughs, and often fake
Smiles
She lives in her escapism
It's a bright and colourful world
Flowers and lights and alleyways
And a little sadness
Secretly
She hopes one day
That someone might stumble in
You can't always escape on your own
Jan 26, 2011
Jan 26, 2011 at 6:33 PM UTC
He’s a happy guy but riddled with toxicity.
He doesn’t want to die he just wants his life as he knows it to end.
Hooked up to all culture’s most poisonous habits.
An infection.
A boy looking up to a world of lifestyle comparison.
Stone, chemical, claustrophobic habitats.
Freedom chases you in the form of slick car adverts,
you just can’t get away from ultra cool pain.
A boy running through a field of urban misery.
Deep thoughts bore him, he’s only interested in killer one liners of the most escapist variety.
The ones that really know what they’re saying.
Whisky, blood, heavy boots stumbling on wood.
He can’t make it through the day without a drink behind closed doors.
Toxic blood and deep breaths,
never happier than when death closes ever further in.
There’s a breath more chemical than human and a look in your eye, like you’re lost in your own solace.
Everyone has problems, but it’s not bleeding into their lives quite like yours,
blood toxicity is too high to justify.
An intervention.
But smile baby and drink up tonight, you’ll be alright up in the sky.
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 5:25 PM UTC
over the edge of the unitary verse written in the solitary confinement of the mind is where you went insane and began hallucinating the life you live today. there were flowers and knives. flowers and knives, waterfalls. countless counties all incorporated into greater provinces which collapsed into imaginary boundaries rung-up at the cash register as 'nation-states.' you waited months for nothing, only to toy with more escapist sentiment in the forked decision between reckless abandon and suicide. who are you to feel so entitled? who are you to imagine this life is something one could arrange from the silk and ore left strewn throughout the clear-cut forest of your atomic quarks or dendrites from string theory you can only create as a mental mural and never more? in the wake of your last moment in-sanity (prior to your exit from the womb) - you asked me what I meant when I was silent. I told you nothing - not as statement, but as silence - and you simply whistled and wailed in an ecstatic blend of distress and joy, happiness and sadness, elation and indifference, loathing and love - who was the angel detaching your pod from the mother-ship? you have never seen your mother from the outside before. you have only known her intimately - been a part of her. been her very soul. you have never multiplied like this before and that's what it is to know yourself. having children is your soul in transit - your soul multiplied by 2 - finally, the child gazes into your eyes and knows itself. knows who it used to be. knows it's departure is simply the addition of its perspective to the ever dividing multiverse. dust to dust, ashes to ashes one whispers upon the death bed. light to dark, something to nothing one whispers upon the death bed. the multiverse is a binary sequence of 0 and 1 in perpetuity - from birth to death to death to life to life to gone to gone to found from something to nothing to nowhere to you
reading these words
hearing them spoken
you are dreaming
you are always dreaming
you are a truth come dream and a dream come true
and you forgot. you still forget. you will never remember.
you will never remember.
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 5:44 PM UTC
the birds are waving
goodbyes to the careless wound
and I hope I'm a feather
floating aimlessly at this blue world
the waves are waiting
for a ride that would define time
and I wish I'm in that part of the globe
paddling carelessly on a makeshift wood
but what am I but another escapist
out to heal the unknown
hoping that soon I'd find answers
to the questions I so long hold
what am I but another broken heart
out to patch my wounds
hoping to clear my thoughts
to the worries that scratches my soul
all I know is that I'm a wasted heart
waiting for the world to swallow me whole
a drifter
lost with every misused word
time to escape this world...
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC
I took a plane without a destination
I was trying to find home
I felt the need of compensation
For always being so alone
No more morning over the past
Because I know that nothing lasts
Now I'm trying to start over
Trying to make you understand
That every time I'm on land
My heart keeps going back to you,
Everything I ever said was true
And yes I did, I did fall for you...
And in my world we don't fall in love
And in my world our emotions are off
I'd run away if i can , oh will you please hold my hand
Because every time I think of you, you turn my hell into heaven
You're my escape , my love
I'd run to you no matter how far or how near
With you I forget my fear
I am the queen of misery
And you are my dark knight...
And together we're going to run
Until we see the light
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
I am forever in a state of delusion and dreaming that blinds me from reality
I spend hours imaging the most perfect version of myself that I want to be but fail to be
I convince myself reality is like what I’m conjuring up the realisation that it's not, crushes me
I am always surprised every time
Like it's something new
I am standing behind myself waiting to step inside myself and embrace reality and embrace the person I am but I cannot because I hold my hopes in the person I could be
Sometimes I feel like I want to step outside of myself but every
attempt I always fall off a cliff
I want to peel these layers of ******** I am hiding under
I am searching for the calm
An end to these hideous emotions that have become a burden
Dizzy from going around in circles in this tiny world with such an insignificant existence
Repeating the same behaviours
Being eaten by the same conflictions
I have been fighting demons for years
And I have spent a decade fighting myself when I should've been happy
Sometimes it feels as though the
walls inside my head are caving in
My head is caving in
Scraped knees, dirt in my finger
nails from the muddy ground of
my tortured mind in a vain
attempt to crawl through the
spaces back to reality again
A prisoner of my own mind
how does one escape
themselves?!
I can't find the door
There are too many corridors
and clutter
I have to create my own door
Through the top of my head
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 9:22 AM UTC