"expence" poems
Oh architects of concrete
How you have stolen my plains
And dredged my soul
The Falcon hovers in vain
And the Hare has no hope
While you swing you clubs
For glory and embrace the
Walls filled with accolades
All at nature's dire expence
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 1:30 PM UTC
the social pace manic in its self-absortion, possession facing possession and what if
the world risks collapsing under the weight of its own irony:
a hedonic frame of mind so devoid of the ******* of life
the tyranny of desire is teaching **** to the naked eyes
a culture stops breathing if it can't let go of its desires to find them again
nothing to be destroyed cause everything is dismantling slowly
going right or left it's the same but not in any corner of the world
the leftovers of God, tautologies in a straightjacket,
cause one has meetings all day but no sleep all night
He/She/They colonize you with the scripture of profit
everything has its price on the expence of being enlivened
some don't have water, others too much of an illusion
some don't have peace, others have haute couture
some haven't eaten, others have molecular cuisine
some have the shelter of the sky, others listen to the echo of Big Bang
this logic of contrast is dreaming of the creativity of decay and
what if politics has become a narcosis, a drunkenness of words,
while the wisdom of trauma is hidden in billboards,
the text says Politics of Happiness or Diserotica
the depressive society fools itself with the financial ****** of disconnected bodies in search of the last noise of the day
the space of the mind broken by narrow horizons
the flesh and bone might turn into a virtual dimension
yet
the soul of the world flickers, it covers its solar plexus until we meet again as brothers and sisters of the trees
just because you feel good doesn't mean that
the world feels good too
Aug 18, 2023
Aug 18, 2023 at 4:42 AM UTC
All my life is complied,
Of belongings in a fire.
Souls dancing in the summer air,
Laughing at the expence,
Of everything,
I've ever held dear.
Exposing my soul to another level,
Of suicidal rage.
Just another burn out,
In my history of pain.
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 6:18 PM UTC
in the middle of the night it crept into my thoughts
it grabbed my now depressed mind and tried to hold me close
it listened to the fear and dreaded hate i had for this world and the people in it
they took me hostage you see and i had no escape
none of us can run from it
some just hide from it better
it took my face and told me what the world has said
disgusting and worthless
it stabbed my body with its piercing nails and told me
how much of a fat slob i am
it looked into my eyes and read my mind
but their was nothing to read
i was lost and alone but still the world around didnt seem hurt at all
they laughed at my pain to make themselves feel better
at the expence of a person
they did not care
they wanted to see me crash and burn so i could not fight
i awoke from my slumber
to walk to a mirror that had deep scars of my hatred for myself embedded in them
and the scars, the scars matched the ones on my side
the ones i hid from everyone so they would keep the words to them selves
and i ran and i hid under the roof of the place i had to call home
i ran there for safety
but what safety did it being me
when they yelled and yelled at me for mistakes that where never ment to happen
i felt it was my fault
when in some sort of crazy realty i was innocent
i was the victim of being hated and let down and lied to
i hurt so bad for people who would never feel the pain
i hid in myself
i tried to see what the world couldnt
but how could i see what was not there
i could not dream because they distroied them
i could not hope because they stole it from me
and i was not a well enough thief to steal it back
they broke my heart
this would that i had loved
it didnt love me back
it would never dare do such a thing
so i sit and i cry and call myself a baby
because i let this world **** me
i let it take control of my body and mind
because i felt i wasnt worth it
even with the people who told me to see otherwise
there was an army of hate that rushed their caring words right out of my mind
and i tried, i tried to change
my looks
my thoughts
who i was
i hated myself
and they hated me to
so i took the knife to my wrist and i carved the words help me help me
hoping someone could hear me
but no one even bothered to listen
so i wrote my story on paper covered in my blood
the last thing i wrote was
sorry
carved into my neck
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 3:05 PM UTC
Deep down below the splitting surface,
Where light's as absent as the air,
I'm lost, while looking for the purpose,
With curiosity for flare.
The cold and loneliness surround me,
The vacuum's building in my soul,
Like tiny sip, the darkness downed me -
Now I'm forever swallowed whole.
I found the way to follow closely,
I won the endless, inner fight.
The truth and beauty will come costly,
At the expence of the delight..
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 10:51 AM UTC