"falsify" poems
Did you know its legal for media to falsify ur news,
Then I ask you what good can this do,
This makes it real hard for people to stand up,
And tell the truth about the corporate corrupt,
They will say its mainly for security,
I don't think so they aren't fooling me,
They love to lead us like a herd of cattle,
Leading us up the creek without a paddle,
So when will all of our voices be heard,
When do we break out of the herd and become a pack,
This would give many a heart attack,
At what time do we stand up and fight for what's right,
If the answer is never there may be no end in sight.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 1:00 PM UTC
Splitting the sea,
The wind I feel, keeps crossing over time, clearing the path between a sea of truth and lies, revealing what was hidden within such misery,
Amongst an ocean of common sense, opens the true pathway,
Cross it, by the miracle created in the dearness you held so close,
Caught within the border of life and death, you cannot be swept away
Don't be built on sand, the one you are walking on, wet, fragile and likely to fall apart within the barriers of water, pillars rising up to you, yet there is no need to worry, have faith, your transience remains
Distortion, clouded within judgement of two sides which only one is righteous about, oh how trecious, lies cannot win a long run yet try to
mislead and falsify the facts of life for ones owns benefits and needs,
The truth however, may be harsh and hard to take, yet has a sweeter taste than the best lie given, even though, you may end up deserted.
Those liars, they chase after you for not following them, yet when the sea collapses they surely will drown in the reigns of the truthful water
Looking at what I desire to accomplish, is to break the boundaries with this miraculous wind, be carried away, softly, gently swaying,
Carrying my wings, fighting on until the moment when I should fall,
Until the moment this path is overtaken by the ocean again
~ Umi
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 6:01 PM UTC
We are absurd
You and I
Fragments
We have created a fermentative reality,
Where words are symbols of relation
That you and I falsify
And Bingo was his name-o!
Ah!
Oh holy onomatopoeic jargon
What do you mean?
And how shall we bargain?
And mora is but a half step to a whole
Eek gad!
January Febuary March and April
May I introduce you to June and July
August, Sept Oct Nov Dec
Randomly systemized organs organized
Abstract or… dissonant?
But who is in charge?
12345
12345678
12345
12345678
12344
12344556
12344
12344556
“Why so serious?” said The Riddler
Mellow dramatic
Melodrama
Melancholy
Pantomimes!
Pantomimes EVERYWHERE!
They are able to speak
But alone I mime, “Do you have the time?”
Together we fall!
United I stand.
Backwards
Upside down
Inside out
And grammar
What’s in a name?
Please don’t be lame
Sarcastic and the glamour
Synonymous nonsense
Homophones and nyms
Where are the polysemes?
In the antonyms
In the antonyms!
Repitition
Exclamation
Annunciation
tions…
verbage verbage verbage
syllables and such
meaningless meaning
defining definitions with such
True or False?
Hide and Seek
Ring around the rosy
We all fall down…
We all fall down.
Black hat, white shoes, and I’m red all over.
Salt
Sour
And bitter
And dill
And
And
And
And
And
And
Ampersand
Institutionalized poetry
But I am for rhythmic prose!
No, not you
Listen to the hue
that the colors protrude
red green blue
red green blue
Black is not a color
Chrome is my favorite
I will not believe otherwise
You are an alien.
I have divided by zero
Musical dissonance
*(asterisk)
A beautiful disaster
A shadow without its owner
Wild natured wilderness
And naturally a wildcard.
**** **** **** **** ****
Etcetera.
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 7:08 AM UTC
We are absurd
You and I
Fragments
We have created a figmentative reality,
where words are symbols of relation
that you and I falsify
And Bingo was his name-o!
Ah!
Oh holy onomatopoeic jargon
What do you mean?
and how shall we bargain?
And mora is but a half step to a whole
Eek gad!
January Febuary March and April
May I introduce you to June and July
August 28th
Sept Oct Nov Dec
Randomly systemized organs organized
Abstract or… dissonant?
But who is in charge?
12345
12345678
12345
12345678
12344
12344556
12344
12344556
“Why so serious?” said The Riddler
Mellow dramatic
Melodrama
Melancholy
Pantomimes!
Pantomimes EVERYWHERE!
They are able to speak
But alone I mime, “Do you have the time?”
Together we fall!
United I stand.
Backwards
Upside down
Inside out
And grammar
What’s in a name?
Please don’t be lame
Sarcastic and the glamour
Synonymous nonsense
Homophones and nyms
Where are the polysemes?
In the antonyms
In the antonyms!
Repetition
Exclamation
Annunciation
tions…
verbage verbage verbage
syllables and such
meaningless meaning
defining definitions with such
True or False?
Hide and Seek
Ring around the rosy
We all fall down…
We all fall down.
Salt
Sour
And bitter
And dill
And
And
And
And
And
And
Ampersand
Institutionalized poetry
But I am for rhythmic prose!
No, not you
Listen to the hue
that the colors protrude
red green blue
red green blue
Black is not a color
Chrome is my favorite
I will not believe otherwise
You are an alien.
I have divided by zero
Musical dissonance
Asterisk*
A beautiful disaster
A shadow without its owner
Wild natured wilderness
And naturally a wildcard.
**** **** **** **** ****
Etcetera.
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 12:26 AM UTC
Fallen from grace,
No longer do I sit high upon the pedestal
That you had once put me
No longer am I seen as idol or mentor
Nor wanted as provider or protector
But now looked upon as an outcast
And banished from your heart
Betrayed by the one who now blinds you
With a veil of lies and deceit
That weighs on your young fragile heart
With heavy words of animosity and abhorrence
You have been trapped in a malevolent web
Of hatred and retribution
Used as an unwitting pawn
In a game of emotional chess
Your words of respect and adoration
Have been replaced by venomous accusations
Of brutality and oppression
Taught to you by the one
Who now holds the chains that bind your heart
But I will not be vanquished or deterred
By these attempts to falsify or dilute my love for you
I will be strong in my resolve and true to myself
I will not let these misguided asseverations
Destroy my confidence in knowing
That my spirit is pure and that one day
You will be able to break free from your restraints
And uncover your eyes
So you can distinguish the truth from the lies
Until that day comes I shall be waiting
Ready to stand next to you
As opposed to being on that pedestal
And walk down a new road with you
As your friend and equal
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 9:52 AM UTC
I wish to peer at Paris, under-dressed and ***** in all of its neoclassical splendor.
For that, there are things I would give up.
I wish to see a prehistoric forest, verdant, overgrown and jumbled.
Before evergreen mysteries I would be ever humbled.
For that, there are things I would give up.
I wish to see Rhodian gardens and from them, smell the flowering fig and taste succulent honey suckle.
I wish to glimpse zaftig temptresses dancing twenty thick amidst courtyards of ancient Persian palaces.
For that, there are things I would give up.
I wish to be blessed into an inenarrable life on an unalike mysterious planet.
I wish for an Atlas resembling and proportionate soul.
For that, there are things I would give up.
I've demanded an even temperament from my unruly emotions.
I've settled for continuous disbelief at the loquacious ignobleness of humanity.
For change, there are things I would give up.
I've sequestered my innocent dreams and bloomed monetary means.
I've avoided death narrowly, my fingers gripping, fear will always transfix, while barreling down 36'.
I've inhaled profits and installed transformation.
For change, there are things I would give up.
I've burned my midnight oil, taken offensive slander, and burned bridges with gratuitous candor.
I've witnessed coal falsify a beautiful gloaming sky.
I've had gasoline dreams filled and fuming with intensity, all drowning under an ocean of oil.
I've envisioned bleached beaches to hide stained soil.
These are moments I would give up.
There are things I've realized outside my reality, outside my internal soliloquy and physical tactility.
I've come to understand my words are nothing more than symbols on a closed door.
Jul 26, 2010
Jul 26, 2010 at 11:54 PM UTC
Sensual pleasures
I am restricted by words
Asking to be noticed
Begging to be heard
A push from the air
So you feel its constant hug
So often we brace a shoulder
To avoid the wind's tug
Motion to falsify life
Implying breath without lungs
Moving whip of the dead
That slapped til it stung
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 3:26 PM UTC
The Spirit Has Given Us Wounds so that the flies may feast on us
The limit has been set by those who infest us with fallacy and hypocrisy.
Those who pull the strings so that they remain kings as their subjects decay.
Those who grab things which belong to all the African kings of today!
“Keep them in the dark, let them not see the goodness of light”, they say.
But I am the light of Africa and I will shine so bright to open up their eyes so that they may shine more than I shine
Africa is not poor, Africa is being looted
Africans are not poor, they are just being cheated.
Bribe is costing our lives as our corrupt leaders misuse our resources
People are dying as the leaders grow fat and untouchable.
Transparency and good governance seems unachievable
Discrepancies of unscrupulous activities surfaces whenever the media starts to deceive
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
Our silence is tolerance to injustice and violence
They have violated our minds with their dead conscience.
They have desecrated our rights with their dead ignorance
We are all leaders lets dethrone these dealers
They have annihilated those who could bring change because of their arrogance
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
Kufa nenyota makumbo arimumvura
Honai Baba isu tatambura
Kudya nhoko dzezvironda
Honai Ishe tauyaura
Siyahlupeka!!!!
Huyai mutinunure
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
Distort the message
Corrupt the masses
Falsify the knowledge
Blindfold the masses
Broad day sacrilege
Sacrifice those who speak out
To satisfy the deplorable desire
And insatiate the insatiable greed.
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
You Leaders we erected you are smart...
Using our money to fund your reelection processes
As you feed us with promises which are nothing but lies
All the efforts your make are to meet the interests of your pockets
All the votes you take are to increase the weights of your accounts
You leaders we've elected you disgust.
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
What are we?
A race in need because of those who lead?
A curse on the face of the earth because of our creed?
We are a unique and immortal breed.
We are going to change our heads so that we succeed.
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 6:11 AM UTC
God dips his head beneath the murky surface of war and blood searching for his children.
His children. They cry out to Him, accuse Him, have forgotten Him, need Him.
They are lost in the muck and the filth and the smog of this nation that throws the first stone; and he weeps as He plucks His children up out of the blood and the dirt and sets them down into the tower of Babel where the people shout “There is no room!” and cry out to Him, accuse Him, have forgotten Him.
This nation that shoots first and asks questions later, the nation of “not my problem,” and moving on.
He touches their heads as they fall asleep, he speaks to them and grants them dreams, and they turn away on their beds of lost memories as they struggle not to hear, not to feel… not to feel even the breathing, the heartbeat, of their lover, their partner, their other half as they reach out in their tossing and turning of nightmares of a nation that does not rest.
The nation who binds their hands in the wires of computers and keyboards, the nation that eats the apple and – in the perceived absence of their Father – raise up false books, sing of false stars, rampage, adulterize and falsify amongst each other always looking for the one, the next one, the next one, is this your card, is this your card, is this your card?
But you’ve had your own card, your own self, in your back pocket, you’ve forgotten what it looks like and now you cannot find the match.
They way worn nation that rests, God bless the rest, by swallowing drug after drug after drink after drink, only to find that rest and that peace just in time to feel the **** of the wires on their bound hands drag them back up again.
So they swallow more drugs, and more drinks, and let their minds wander and wish for their family, but when they go home they think of their labor what’s next for they must prepare, they must keep moving ever forward, never looking back.
And so let the frustration grow.
And the family ever fall.
The family, the nation, that drowns beneath the flood of a weeping God who must break His promise, for His children are lost to Him beneath the feet of so many bearing the mark of Cain.
The feet that do not rest. The feet that keep on walking past the empty forests, the old man on the street, the blind woman crying, the sick starving child sitting next to them.
And these people, these poor people, they sit and they wait and they cry out “why,” they cry out “Help”
…For their Father cannot find them in the murky, ****** water that covers this broken nation.
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC
A faith we fancy is that freedom is fabricated and forged for us by our forefathers who fought and forced their foes to forfeit their feud. They fended fiercely and defended fearlessly a fictionalized fact, freedom, filtered with fire and flame. A few fell to be famed fellows of the future while a fraction of the fraternity are farewelled faceless.
All those frigid flashback brought-forth what we framed and fantasized as freewill and forbade freaks to falsify our fascination.
It all falters as we fathom that freedom didn't fade ,but w/o a fons-et-ergo, a foolish fairytale foretold for us to falsely follow a formula for the foremen to fortify the fake façade of freedom while we flounder and they float.
And if we flush and fracture their folderol, we are flagged as flagitious, frauds and fellons.
For the feasibility of freedom is a mere ****** Fuckery to **** us.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 12:02 PM UTC
There are monsters under my bed, I swear it’s true
If you don’t believe me take a peak, but I wouldn’t if I were you
They are more terrifying then any alien, vampire or werewolf pack
Even though they wouldn’t eat you as a snack
They don’t have three heads, green skin or multiple eyeballs
But bones can be seen through brittle orange skin and sleek hair, skyscraper tall
The heaving chest of a Grinch size heart can be seen, beating almost too slowly
Their beady bloodshot eyes stare at my pale skin, knowingly
I hear their long nails violently scraping on my floor, haunting the room in which I slumber
Those bloodshot eyes and glowing nails wish to tear me from limb to limb, with a plunger
I prevent this terrible pretense by giving them what they desire the most
Dishes of raw meat, garnished with flies, are found under my bed; since they infatuate the gross
So they will not touch a pretty little hair on my head
But, it is so that they glare with jealous revenge, under my bed
They rely on me, and I must keep them satisfied, for my safety
They have a fear of being not alluring, very desperately they rummage through food, even if it isn’t tasty
These scrawny creatures reflect a zombie, who was once radiant with beauty
Demanding statements and propelling attitudes falsify their faces, simply they are snooty.
Their beauty would entice many girls, I know
Maybe others would see the reflection of their ugly souls, and realize what their future may in toe
These creatures are after me, because I’m not like them
In this twisted universe, I am the alien
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 12:41 AM UTC
I claim to have empathy
But I also know I'm lacking.
I chuckled when you said
You'd marry him
You're in high school, sweetie
And when it didn't work out
I wasn't at all surprised.
When you ******* about your life
My mind was on mine
When you made every small problem
Bigger than it needed to be
My thoughts immediately said
"It could've been worse"
But my mouth didn't dare.
And then you have the gaul to tell me
That I'm being pessimistic and whiney
After all the times I bit my tongue
In front of you?
Sorry honey,
But I can falsify empathy for you.
If it's sympathy you want
Go look elsewhere.
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 6:44 PM UTC
The further she strides from me,
the stronger my desire to die becomes.
The further she cares for me,
the stronger my regret becomes.
The further she leaves me,
the stronger I welcome my knife into my lungs.
*The more I want to die,
The more I consider her,
The more I think of her,
The more I want to live.*
The further she is from me,
the stronger my feelings of harm becomes.
The further she distances from me,
the stronger my loneliness becomes,
The further she thinks of my,
the stronger my guilt becomes.
*For if I die,
How long will she cry?
Will she believe it a lie?
She will want to die,
I pray this falsify.*
The further she strides from me,
the stronger my desire to die becomes.
The further she cares for me,
the stronger my regret becomes.
The further she leaves me,
the stronger I welcome my knife into my lungs.
*The more I want to die,
The closer she draws to me,
The closer she is to me,
The less I want to die.*
The further she is from me,
the stronger my crave for she becomes.
The further she delves into me,
the stronger my desire to breath becomes.
The further she surrounds me,
the stronger my will becomes.
Because,
*I wake for her,
I dress for her,
I run for her,
I eat for her,
I breath for her,
I sing for her,
I live for her.*
But the further she walks away from me...
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 4:58 PM UTC
Application of misinformation
Falsify a failed nation,
Eradication of all creation
Misinterpretation
Of representation
Deny the station
Granted by occupation
And the inhalation
Of justification
No prerequisite information
Just accumulation
No moderation,
Their determination
Through stimulation
Cultural ************
Communal degradation
Societal desecration,
Dehumanizing revocation,
Worldly humiliation,
Mortal sterilization
Never achieving mobilization
Lack of communication
Excelling in vile persuasion,
Proponents of procreation
Birthing digitization,
Destroy civilization,
Indications of adoration
Isolation in delineation,
Irrational indexation,
Fluctuating indignation,
No innovation,
Divination
Retaliation,
Immolation,
False ovation,
Lacking limitations,
Contextual intonation,
Divine fabrication,
Private publication,
Evolving fornication,
Give me extermination,
Notwithstanding annexation
Of dismaying oxidation,
Of valued perpetuation,
Global mass-castration,
Redundant rhetoric, dictation,
A donation, a dilation, a fixation,
An annotation of fibrillation,
We are personification
Of Contamination
Through globalization
Praising idolization
And finalization
Through **********
No pragmatic exoneration,
In all frustration
We see not utilization
Nor stabilization,
Fearful implications
Of wayward stations,
Surplus mutilations,
Seeking militarization
Of worthless nations,
No conservation,
Just excavation
Of the population
******** on education,
Spitting on graduation,
No validation of aspiration,
Indoctrination of baptization
Mitigating litigation,
murdering habitation,
Quelling all vegetation
We will end in radiation
Through faulty navigation,
Abdication and abnegation,
All worldly agitation
Leads us to expiration,
Self-made annihilation.
There was never an end in sight,
We’re lost, and hope is a lie.
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
1
There are more penetrating people if not the death of, as in living in this very livid moment of the unsure which is a surety.
Falsify me. Growing heavy with the absurd. To face you, me -- more mirror the blank end of a chamber, or if that you must **** me, do it at the plaza in front of my mother. That if you must lament me over the lapped up moment of some false life the invented and wrong, do it. Do it. ****** me the unassailable truth that is, I am capable to splinter this moment and that it still lives like a sprawled body spilled from the mouth in the bathroom -- it still lives: you have to be quick.
2
Once have you been startled by the form of absence as a letter slid underneath the soft and warm pocket of your mouth like it was the first time to have a naked body pointed at you, all with it trying to predict you in a sterile room, and is more shattering than an aggravated twilight.
Who, at first thought, was there behind the trigger, and was ***** drunk with any other pretense apart from the face that ***** hates that common meeting within the day’s fine-tuned crosshair?
3
If you listen to it carefully, the music is a mosaic shifting the hypothesis into a pallor of a question back to it again with its basic agony of becoming so bent and so small on paper – which is to say, that we are, if to listen to a droning sound, becoming of it delving deep into the center, checking our own weight like our name after a fall from a high place, they said they would.
4
I have left something in Baguio that I cannot take back – a monochromatic caricature of my face shoved into a crevice waiting for a revision. What have I furthered into?
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 9:54 AM UTC
Cut in half and also double,
The time I take from each perception, Sifting through the artworks ruble-
Changes constantly, with new direction
Words which placate then befuddle
Like an instinctive, intervention.
Longingly, negating trouble,
Empirically, a resurrection.
All the while my medications
(Pills to fix the way we feel)
Unraveling fast deviation
Investing in what isn't real.
Oh Destroyer, and Creater;
The Accention & Decline-
How we Falsify & fabricate,
Then factually Define.
Jan 8, 2023
Jan 8, 2023 at 5:24 AM UTC
Give me just two of your fingers, it is more frisky;
When excited why act out platonically.
Skin me;
No need to falsify.
Your small hands hold an ocean, then tide me;
Send more white horses to step on my rocky heart;
Of course, sunk already.
Not a submerged foreign object;
Down there I am a reef;
Living for eons, heartily.
You are dear as nature.
I am thirsty, near which slippery cliff is your river.
In the ocean of your hands;
I am fished.
As time passes by, I am more aware of you;
I feel the ocean is not a piece of you;
It is you.
It is like you are offering yourself.
Why is it pellucid?
I can see miles away;
Miles away a dissolving wine.
Your mother calls you;
A crystal big cat emerges from your ocean.
A friend calls you;
You shut your eyes.
Noone comes around.
I notice that I am going to hear a sound;
I hear it, coming from far-flung;
Makes you more chaotic.
Vortical eyes.
Your face is too hot;
It starts to boil;
Rivers come out of your eyes and mouth;
Pouring into your ocean.
No overflow.
What do you represent?
What if you are an atypical?
What do you remind me of?
A bare white-bluish waterfall who offers everything has got?
You have mentioned me in your genome, with a deep shade.
Unclad is an old-hat, we should reveal what we have inside;
By playing with locks.
Suggest me, l will romance you.
Your touch reminds me of the untold.
You freeze, no flow, like it was in the cards.
Your scent, strange.
I should leave to buy.
I hover around you.
My vulnerable bare;
It is up to me to protect you.
I should leave to buy a huge opaque.
I couldn't find my clothing and shoes;
Can I wear yours? Is it weird?
I hear from the neighbouring flat, someone crying in the bath.
You start to tilt and smudge like you were a design on a rug;
I fold it;
Put it in a suitcase;
And leave to exit.
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 4:56 AM UTC
When does it stop
When does being lost in translation stop
When does the reality of temporary become permanent
And reality a finality of time
When do shadows stop eating at the nothingness of everything
When do the questions stop and become the answers
When does relief come
Or does relief just falsify into a cast of the illusion of okay
"When does it stop?" I ask you.
"WHEN DOES IT STOP?" I scream at the shadow of your profile in the depths of my painted wall
And my skin feels tight as it is suffocating my shackled veins
"It doesn't, does it?" I ask you.
"IT DOESN'T, DOES IT?" I scream at my shaking hands full of fury and broken glass
I said I was sorry, that I didn't mean it
You said I did, you said I did
You said it was okay, you said it's okay, you said it's okay
Okay is nothing but an illusion of this fragmented world
It's not okay.
It's broken, it's fury, it's shackled and turbulent
It's glass in my palms made of tiny pills
That cut my throat as I swallow you down
In hopes you'll love me again.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
The second power of the Sphinx
is Will.
"Motion is by mind alone." ⊙
Intelligence, armed with Wisdom,
fortified with Understanding,
self-realizes.
The will to power orchestrates
desire, giving flesh to dream.
(ripples in the waters of מ)
Who awakens, ceasing Motion,
becomes the Mover:
the omnipresent Point.
Will is the Artificer of Truth.
Truth embodied by Art
follows conception.
Existence produces mythos.
*"The Maze, the Maze that is the Secret,
loves Itself.
And in the love of Itself,
amazing things Become."* ⊾
To Will is to express:
to falsify the inestimable
and create by omission.
"The world-dream is a lie." Ω
*"Lo, for these words that stain the lips of the Anointed,
the Smeared Ones.
Smeared in the ashes of My blood
is the lie that is Our story."* ⊾
The cause of Action is narrative.
The effect of Action is narrative.
I speak the Word.
I hear the Word.
The Story begins.
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
espy me now,
vivify me now,
beautify me now,
satisfy me now,
gratify me now,
tumefy me now,
mollify me now,
clarify me now,
classify me now,
sanctify me now,
immortalize me now,
deify me now,
rubify me now,
crucify me now,
mummify me now,
reify me now,
codify me now,
ratify me now,
glorify me now,
magnify me now,
mystify me now,
minify me now,
justify me now,
stultify me now,
stupefy me now,
falsify me now,
nullify me now,
villify me now,
vitrify me now,
calcify me now,
ossify me now,
fossilize me,
forget me
and
walk away.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
Broken
Shut down
Demolished and destroyed
Brought down to her knees
Literally, literally brought down
Face to face with porcelin and water.
Purge, purge, purge
Empty the empty
Break down and out
Out, out, no way out...
Betrayed
Dismissed
Returned, replaced, retried
Falsify your family, break it down
Let it out
Praise thee, mighty nothingness.
Aug 31, 2010
Aug 31, 2010 at 12:56 PM UTC
Is it just I who muses late?
Into the veil of the night?
The laconicism is crisp of darkness
Black and cold, menace foretold?
Am I the only one
In the whole of humanity?
Who cannot cease to wonder of
The thoughts of worthlessness
That my every trivial thought
Is a waste of lives that fought
To come into the world
To breathe and dance and rot,
In the deathly tempo of time
Reminder of lives gone by
In philosophical demise
My trouble helps not anything...
Still I lie here, heaving through,
I cannot finish this song for you.
That would be misleading, to falsify
That my life showed an inkling of purpose—
Of anymore than just a cry.
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
Challenge
Nobody wants an easy love
You say
There needs to be a challenge
Like not calling you for days
Like pretending to not care
Like being a dismissive/distant ****
In order to make you feel like you should really want me
Boo, that’s not challenge, that’s buying into the same ******** we are told to do as men:
Do not be intimate, vulnerable; do not surrender to love,
Pretend to be numb, strong, emotionless, and cold, be a man, be loveless,
Be a challenge, so that you may want to conquer me, conquer my flesh and colonize my spirit,
But neither my flesh nor my spirit needs for you to claim them
I need not to falsify my emotions in order to attract you
I do not want to pretend to be a cold lifeless chimera
I am not what you are looking for, but I am what you need.
Challenge:
The real challenge is interrupting old stories of masculinity
Letting me enter you, letting you enter me and surrender to each other’s flesh without guilt or fear of eternal damnation
Standing by me, standing by you even when it does not feel safe
And yes… it’s ok to tell me you miss me, think of me, are triggered by me, hurt by me, impacted by me, I want to know, silence is no challenge to me, knowing you and learning to love you as you guide me through the streets of your inner city heart is.
Vulnerability, communication, surrendering: challenge.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 9:29 PM UTC
O wind,thou that art scented with the scents,
Of a thousand fallen leaves and grass,art
The hoper's hope,and carry,in torrents,
The wishes of all,of all that have heart.
Bear my wish! I wish that my soul be gone!
Be gone with thee,there,where no burdens lie,
On the poor flesh,and that I be alone,
So I may,my own meek self falsify!
But if you can't carry my sullied soul,
Take my lips to my love,so I may speak,
And in my gentlest manner,kiss her all.
Or bring me the scent of her rosy cheek!
Be steady,O wind,for on thee I rest,
My hope,that does all my love manifest.
Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 7:22 AM UTC