"farse" poems
you move the sun closer to me
and that has no disaster.
your All is the wet funk of my Yes.
the graven image of a total thing -
masquerading as ****** glint
of my " just asking " without the burden
of my suspicion. only the wonderful
of my submission.
You.
You are the One
that Two
looks up
too.
you march into my femur. break my bones
where the soul is course and rancid.
where the Always has no Answer
but the Never has as a
Speech.
you move the Sun closer to Me.
you bring me joys that hate
and mutter the rumple
of lesser men
who have no Love.
you join the disjoint
and mock the cradle
of our discontent
with the spectacle
of our humble
What ?
you move.
you move the sallow fortunes of our weakest
too the strong weeping
of our dire " of course ".
the code. Morse, may be... but the dots
align in the ragged farse
of our profuse jungle.
we are these monkeys
lifting hammers
we cannot claim
but we have stars
that march
against
the verity
of our lies
to preach
the brevity
of our almost
in love.
with an up-close sun.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
He really isn't such an extravagant specimen of humanity
The other day he told her that he wasn't a mess
And the funny part is that he believed himself
He believed that he wasn't so pathetic as to deny his masochism whilst depriving himself of sleep
He believed that he didn't send messages to random people on HP because he was lonely and maybe just maybe that other person would live in south africa and get to know him and love him
He believed that he sent those messages because he wanted to help people
His pathos of trying was so painful to watch even he stopped seeing the reality of his metaphorical wrist and literal subconscious
And even though he watches good shows and listens to good music and has valid philosophical opinions that are well structured of both he still second guesses himself
He still doubts his ability to be anything in life but his dreams are real and o so powerful
He has become a farse
A pathetic dismal farce
And the worst part about this farce
Is that this farce somehow still believes that he is different and better farce than all the other farces out there
Yes he hates himself
But he has become so good at lying to himself that he doesn't even believe the words as he types them on this screen
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
This is what i want to do...
i see you in your tight yes
and thrum my lips across the whimsy
of your chaste suzette. i want to live alive -
and be the swollen one
chafing against your plump curls...
my tongue
gasping,... teeth
teething.
this is what i want to do.
to
unload
a century of issue
into the womb of your
distance, to break the silence
of your wet dream
with the violence
of our sweet
peace.
yes.
this, is what i want to do.
to plum your cherry in the very gone
of our arrival's tomb...
to clump the rude farse
of our weary calamity
into a precious knot
we freakishly
unravel...
i want
to press my lips
to your valley
till you *** around
and say, Thank
You,
but can
only
with you.
in you.
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
Fake was the gold
She spun from her wheel.
Did you not know the farse to get here?
A Lie the tower
He climbed to reach her.
Tell the children of the witches plot.
Don't forget to hide the gold.
Tie it with a ribbon,
Leave it cold.
String a tear,
wear 'round your neck.
Bewitch a prince.
Hide the cinder foot.
Don't go in the woods.
It's beaty,
Will kiss you awake.
While your gallant steed pulls away.
Charge on to another day.
Watch for troubles,
On the way.
Fair maidens in towers
Glass on their feet.
Beware troubles,
Beholden in Fairytales.
The story's never over,
Though we stare at books end.
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 10:35 PM UTC
I'm the boss
You do not cross
The king of my domain
For the day
No work, all play
Is found in my refrain
Love to eat
The prime of meat
So sad 'til I get some
'Tis so sweet
And such a treat
Boy, they can be so dumb
Hate to dress
Give me caress
No bother with the slime
Have to dig
In it real big
Archaeology time
When I'm beat
I have a seat
Take my favorite spot
No compete
It's so complete
Out of my royal cot!
Here to stay
I love to lay
Napping is not a farse
I'm a dog
Who's a couch hog
So move your big fat ****
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 5:42 PM UTC
the smile that comes
after saying something
that is so genuinely
unique
and true to you
so that no one
can ever attack it
try as they may
they will never erase it
or take away
the joy it feels
to know it
to be 100% true.
Even if the entire world
was a farse
that would still be true
regardless.
Even if tomorrow I died
I would have understood,
I would have understood
myself.
In this way regardless.
The smile that comes after a poem
when it is so absolutely true
to feel no shame behind it
so that it cures
even the worst
of my indiscretions.
So that each moment
becomes separate
and stagnant
individual
and without the power
to see into the future
I become liberated
for I am not God,
nor do I want the ability
to see everything
so that I lose all control,
as powerful as I'd be
because
The smile that comes after a poem
in the truth
of it
Is enough for me.
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 1:37 PM UTC
What fortune is more cursed
Than a lover black of heart
What flower more odious
Than a lovers stall to start
What animal least prepared
For the loss of love
Than the petty man
And his dying dove
What tale more sour
Than the story of man and wife
What play more dramatic
Than this farse of a life
What animal least prepared
For the loss of love
Than the petty man
And his dying dove
What Destiny more doomed
Than me and Rose
What option least fitting
Than the one she chose
What animal least prepared
For the loss of life
Than the broken man
And his endless strife
Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 3:15 AM UTC
There is no other way. Either you forget the lies you've been fed all your life or waste yourself away, to chase a fabricated truth.
Man is only free when he breaks up with those lies, when he denys everything and becomes ruler of his own reality - but that demands sacrifice, and is harder than anything imaginable. In fact, it could well be the hardest thing you'll ever have to do in your life: to demolish an entire temple and be left with nothingness.
It means you must be able to see yourself for what you truly are and accept that your reality is what you make of it.
It also means you must be prepared to blame yourself for your failures, just as you would eagerly blame yourself for your successes.
Those who believe that man can rule another man, that lust and feasts are the answer to solitude and boredom, that love can be bought and worn like a badge for the world to see.
Those who name a king a king, who give church the greenlight to do their bidding. Those who fiercely believe that man has what it takes to wield the gods and bestow their will.
Those will say many things to contradict your reality and your dreams, because their reality and dreams are the greater good. Those that see you and me like a means to an end. But we can spot them. Their system is flawed, and that would be ok: because man is flawed. But they won't accept their own reality. They will remain untouched, in ther little shiny rooms with mirrors. Twisted until the end.
Well, it's your death in the end. That's all you should know, all you should care about. It should be enough to tell you what kind of life you need to live. Because all else is a farse.
What the other writers of past centuries have wrote is true. And the truth prevails anything. No matter how many generations pass and take the wheel, the sullen play goes on, with or without you.
Your dreams will be crushed, and your failures noticed.
But you only lose if you give a ****
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
Isn't it nice to know all?
Can you just imagine!
Start telling a story
With a crowd of friends
**** good memories too
And that one ends it for you
Yet was never even there
Then I toss out a farse
Just for ***** and giggles
And claim there beside you
Altough you went solo
In that farse which wasn't
And that one won't hesitate
Once I try forming a sentence
Will certainly be halfway cut off
Will appear out of nowhere
While hanging with my hommies
With no ticket in stow
If I could afford to I'd buy
Yeah buy that one an attention
Voucher
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 7:21 PM UTC
It's fool's day, and I'm thinking of the first heartbeat
my body has shuddered.
Skin smoothed from an embryo and into the form of a human being;
I was ushered into this world 12 and 8 years late
to two parents who rose their white flags by the time I was 10
and two siblings who had endured their fair share of the family fortune: traumatizing memories and the gene pool of mental illness.
I used to think it was a farse; this "life" thing.
I believed I was sent here by mistake,
as my mom often told me I was the "surprise" to her.
I came home on Father's Day and 17 years later, my father disappeared.
But I'll remember how he and my mom formulated the lives of 3 human beings, now on completely separate paths,
and how beautiful life became on our own accord.
We're often taught that blood is thicker than water,
and that your family are your first role models.
They teach you about the world before you get the chance to be taught by the world itself.
So what they're saying must be significant, right?
No matter the pain that has been struck on me
since that heartbeat,
I'll forgive. It's the only way to make a second.
And as the blood trickles from my flesh,
on my dying bed, I'll reminince about my first breath, as I breathe my last.
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 7:20 PM UTC
I think subliminaly some people know that success is limited to there environment. It’s pretty much a farse. you could become super successful and rich, but what’s it worth after all is bought or accomplished.. nothing without society saying so. Or you could live in your cabin and feel just as successful doing what you say is worthwhile. Both of which are great.
I’m a pessimist, ideally I’d like to have a cabin, fire, and a creak, self sufficiency and to live out my life accomplishing as little as possible, but to do so I’d have to sell myself enough to afford land, my child’s future, and an decent sized interest bearing account to pay for the taxes. Sooo the system has its ways of forcing us to play and that’s just the way of our day and I struggle with the why there’s greed and corruption when there’s no ultimate gain from winning it all unless the future has foretold some worldly super powers that we must progress aggressively in order to survive..heck maybe Mother Earth knows that doom is inevitable and we are her way escaping and traveling the galaxy. Idk I don’t think there’s actually reasons behind anything and logic is archaic tool that is limiting people. Imagine if logic wasn’t in your forethought if it wasn’t right up front blocking the view. If instinct and insight was there and logic didn’t cipher your decision because there’s no law of competition with each other, only natural trusting coexistence, and you didn’t question your survival instinct because people are no longer making complex variables of deception in order to cannibalize on each others life force. Idk mate I guess we are the dominant species and we have it pretty awfully good and everything is just naturally evolving forever. And it’s always all good
Oct 25, 2024
Oct 25, 2024 at 7:35 PM UTC
When can I breathe again?
I’ve been holding it for the past week.
When will my lungs relax from this tensed up state,
of ******* in air and keeping it there.
It’s like every time I try to exhale,
I choke.
Because I’ve been planting new trees
in this forest of responsibilities,
******* the hours out of the day
Taking away
My carbon dioxide
and expelling stress
The poison that this oxygen is
Because the message chime of my phone
has become a dreadful drone.
Chat bubbles rise up into the sky
They pop and pop
Like some kind of cry
For help
I need some air for myself
Because I’m so ******* mad
And not at any of the friends that I have
But at my own selfishness
They deserve the best
And yet I treat them like a pest
How do I even ******* live with myself
When I ever only give to myself
“I need to breathe”
**** that noise
Are you even listening to your voice
You’re acting like a child
“I’ll do it, just give me some time’
Always looking for excuses
Keeping expectations low
With this self-deprecating ********
We get it, we know
You’d rather not do anything at ******* all
Playing the day away
Watching the night away
Wary of making plans
Because you know when you do, you can’t
Back away
You’re scared of facing the day
That you need to give your time away
“I need to breathe”
“I need to breathe”
How much ******* air do you need?
Are you blowing yourself up like a balloon?
So that you can fly
High
Up in the sky
And get even more air for yourself
But here’s the thing pal:
At high altitudes, the air is thin
Oxygen sparse
And that’s when this whole farse
Will come and bite you in the ****
And you’ll realize how it feels to be alone
And there’ll be no home
To return to
Because you pushed everyone away
away
Away
Away
Like you push the air out of your lungs
In the hope that people will get hung
Up on this crystal clear facade
JUST ******* CUT IT OUT, MAN
ANd I’m out of breath again
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 6:20 PM UTC