"foolproof" poems
We are all hypocrites,
passionate on
crime, *** and drama
We are all hypocrites,
building our
two-dimensional dioramas
We think fast,
our half-witted brains
conniving
We talk fast,
our foolproof tongues
praising
We love to hate others,
and bask in the glory
of their demise
We hate to love our brothers,
for all our speeches
are mem'rized
Stepping stones from naivety
Our vainglorious insanity
Romanticizing reality
The hand that
feeds us
is our enemy
When will this stop?
iamthe_avatar ©2016
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 6:34 PM UTC
Cocoon. Gloom. Womb. Doom. Room.
Don’t!
For most, words doth froth forms.
Oh, foolproof.
Lord John, Jov, Thor, Job.
Lord John knows Thor's job
Now. Photoshop. School Of Rock.
Tomorrow. Hop On Pop.
Zorro Snorro.
Who?
Wrong!
Whom?
Mr. Roboto; old clown of Oslo won’t.
Yolo. Boom!
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 9:20 AM UTC
some years back, not too difficile to recall,
revive and animate those memories of love and disasters,
but the distance is comparable to half-a-dozen
eighty day trips around the world, many frequent
flyer miles accumulated with trips to love disasters,
interspersed with the days of shock and awe believing
(sigh) that stumbled, fumbled my way in what we silly
call true love, which is really the high of believing
that you deserved the easy way, but now know, there
is no easy way, and romance is a hard earned privilege,
and sensory deprivation can fool you, absence makes
you vulnerable, don’t be vulnerable, stand up right,
**** out, and eyes smiling but phasers on full, nonetheless…
this not a downer, but a dis-claimer, even I claim the
never be sure of the 100% foolproof methodologies for
discerning the genius of genuine,
when the risk is the reward
maybe when your 22, even 23,
you’ll be better at true discernment,
but until then be wise,
there is no saving the day,
till your knees are scraped,
and crackling and cracking
heart seem like the same thing
but they’re not
do not confuse
causality with correlation
love is not your cause, be-all,
or even the end-all, do the work
on your self to betterment
24/7, knowledge to be wiser
comes with vive les expériences!
and
someday you’ll senses will be tickled,
and the aroma of possibilities will
arose that dormant hunger, and may
be a correlation to another human in the
immediate vicinity, a man, swimming
in your moat without permission, then,
check him out and maybe, jump in,
once you’ve passed the red cross lifesavers
test, cause the murk is murky, and is never
fraught with just rose water, but jump a
few toes in and if you’re still sinking,
hell he’ll
find away and give him the rope to help
you climb a board, yeah, a broad tough as
clear varnished nails with a heart radiating
the nuclear fission of Strontium 90.
Jul 13, 2023
Jul 13, 2023 at 1:31 AM UTC
To kiss someone's lips
Or grab them by the hips
One must enlist
In the power dynamic
Inside every relationship
There are surprises
Of different disguises
I must ignore the lies of
Reachers and settlers
Stalkers and meddlers
Those who are aloof
And those who are goofs
The process never foolproof
When animals hide their hooves
I took that dubious bet
I thought it'd be fun
A game of Russian roulette
With a fully loaded gun
There were unfair rules set
That's how you won
A one hundred percent threat
I'd be hurt a ton
It started effecting my health
When I couldn't be myself
Because my self emulation
Amounted to self immolation
So I sought your consultation
For the vacation
Of placation
But you took advantage
At least from my vantage
I could see your rampage
Straight from the Stone Age
Like a time traveling mage
That summoned a cage
There was a pattern
We kept going around
Like the rings of Saturn
Until I hit the ground
You made me foolishly wait to test me
And then hated when things got messy
Now you claim that you're a blessing
For what you do after **********
You must be jesting
Confidence cresting
Never confessing
Or addressing
The emotional underbelly
You just like to undersell me
Saying that I'm underwhelming
I'm talking to a tundra telling me
That it makes me a better me
Apologizing not part of your plan
You tell me you don't understand
You must think I'm stupid
To treat me so putrid
My patience you've used it
So the dead weight loosened
Once I let go of your noose hand
You come back begging
You incorrectly pegged me
As forgiving not petty
I guess you never met me
Or at least said goodbye to the best me
After never acting on the behest of me
And making me think less of me
You've become a pest to me
Not part of my destiny
Just part of the generic sea
Of those I let be
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 3:23 PM UTC
Reglossing, rewashing, removing, returning,
she kept using the same cloth to wipe up this mess.
All of the same mistakes constantly repeating,
spools of half-hearted "I'm sorry's" unwinding,
foolproof promise to cover for her missed absence.
I persist reloading, rewinding, replaying
watching the film of our lives together, pausing
at moments where temporarily, I confess,
unpredictable happiness ceased repeating.
This trainwreck of a show carries on, blistering
slides that I want to swipe clean, but her name suppress
stained slates developing, deflecting, destroying.
I throw away the footage, romanticizing
sheer ideas of finally making progress
forgetting her. But relapse results repeating
bad habits. There is not a remedy. I cling
to the seasons of the past, wanting to digress
reminding, rewinding, removing, regretting.
'Til the cloth clears again, chaos keeps repeating.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
Why do I love?
Is it because I want to feel loved in recoil or is it the thought of love in absentia soldiering me to asset love.
Tell me what love is?
Love is the reason I want to get out of bed early in morning to watch the sunrise in her presence,
Love makes my feet numb and my heart seek solitude whenever she stands next to me or sit beside me in the bus on the journey to free my heart.
Love takes authority of your heart’s emotions desire that feel like a burden, not to her they aren’t,
Love gives you perception, to see her for who she is, not what she can’t be but what she’s worth.
Love is a ****** who invariably needs rehab to stay on track and feel alive where there’s oblivion in array.
Ask me what love isn’t?
Love isn’t waiting for you across the street,
Love wants you to play a game of chase, chase me if you fancy me love said.
Love isn’t a pack of sheath you keep in your ripped side pocket jean for a quickie, Love isn’t a puppy nor a cub you can teach to play a game of fetch nor play dead,
Love isn’t your wrecked black sedan you can panel beat back to its mint right condition,
Love isn’t your typical Cinderella fairytale were the glass slipper is fated to fit foolproof,
Why do I love you asked!
I love to know love, what it’s like to put her in rehab ahead of enemy lines and what it’s like to see the perception of her own personification.
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 7:39 AM UTC
We cannot seem to understand
that one perceives personally with limited scope,
a minuscule allotment, a slippery vision of time.
We believe to hold witness to a great single minded river,
this metaphor is bought wholly
and sold solely to sweeten our short life-
As one word often leads to the next,
a parent sires child
thinking this is the most powerful measurement of truth
we use to falsely foolproof our assurances
and assuage any feeling of being a victim,
eaten by time.
It is a shared dream of the dead man's final words-
they carry weight, meaning and purpose.
Needing to be painfully comprehended and carried self evident.
A literary reflection of our need for death to matter,
to have matter and be of substance is a view of ourselves linearly,
as a line drawn between birth to death
then- maybe
a cathartic eternity.
Apr 16, 2011
Apr 16, 2011 at 8:13 AM UTC
Nobody can understand me
can understand my malady
nor is there a foolproof therapy
a curing remedy!
You talk about helping me
try to be friendly
it seems so silly
I'm an alien to my own family!
Can lift my surround mist
no psychiatrist
they really don't get
what's wrong and medicate!
Where I stand
won't reach your helping hand
I don't understand myself.
How can you be of any help?
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 10:38 AM UTC
She lay eyes closed, on gleaming steel,
Summoning every ounce of will;
But was not enough to overcome the drugs
He'd given, with his fateful hug.
She remembered things she thought had gone,
Somewhere broken wings had flown;
Her mind a million miles ahead,
Although her body felt quite dead.
She heard the cart of tools wheeled close,
And with a shudder, knew what those
Things were used for, knew her time
For thinking would too soon unwind.
There was something once she'd read
That she searched for in her head-
A foolproof way to blink your eyes,
Even if you couldn’t cry
Aloud; or twitch your toes beneath,
Though all above, were deep in grief
To tell them that your brain still lived-
And it was just your body, fibbed.
Too late; she heard the scalpel lift-
Felt her hair folded up in clips;
If she could, she would have prayed-
For now her heart was well dismayed-
And then the ruby drops rained down,
Covering white shoes and gowns-
Her pain was met with equal screams,
As she fell down, in darker dreams..
Dec 30, 2011
Dec 30, 2011 at 5:45 PM UTC
Save me from this.
This paranoia cut throat demonhead.
Save me from this.
This painstake thoughtless morning dread.
Save me from me.
My foolproof gunshot motorcade.
Save me from me.
My faceless nameless nightshade.
And when I need you most,
Leave me,
Set me free.
And when I need a smoke,
Cheat me,
Leave me be.
And when you need my taste,
Drink it,
Sip your veins.
And when you go to waste,
Follow me,
Down the drain.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 7:23 PM UTC
A fool's game of willing trust,
lay open on the floor.
A sob for a new and gleeful temperament,
sounds beyond this sullen door.
A harsh release of "foolproof" bonds,
leaves it mark as a scar.
A tattoo of once woven, unbreakable ties,
rests in place of a stolen shard..
of the memories kept fondly,
deep within a chamber,
of words I mistook to be true.
Sorrow I've felt through this heart-wrenching process,
my emotions are scribbled deep blue.
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 3:14 PM UTC
positivity is a plant without root,
withered petals dangling acute.
obtuse excuses are abusive homes
with leaky roofs and we're spluttering
in the gutter as our lungs
fill with rainwater.
integrity is small and it is fragile,
but at least it's foolproof.
i critique, therefore i am.
engaging consistently
in an emancipatory endeavor,
a liberatory tour-de-force.
false hope is a ******* noose,
endangering our biosphere.
the anthropocene is here.
we will not survive
if we remain aloof.
pursue truth.
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 4:54 PM UTC
We make many decisions in this life,
Such an unperfect world we live in today,
Depending on what we value, at the moment,
Our plans can be rearranged, at any time, on any day.
Our schedule will often be altered,
As we approach new cross roads , unplanned obstacles,
Can suddenly, block our way.
We learn with time and age, that in this life greed, often changes,
Our ideas of values and needs, sometimes we have to let free,
Our ego, beliefs, so a more positive future, our eyes will see.
Certain dreams we vision as foolproof,
As our thoughts led us to believe,
Will change to past memories, out of our control,
We have no choice, but to let them be.
Our deepest feelings and emotions, we can reminisce
The what ifs and whys, as we journey through years,
With vital information that we lack,
All we can do is sit back, as we wipe another tear.
The Original: Tom Maxwell © 02/04/2022 AD 11:52 pm
[email protected]
Feb 5, 2022
Feb 5, 2022 at 1:07 AM UTC
Reglossing, rewashing, removing, returning,
she kept using the same cloth to wipe up the mess.
All of the same mistakes constantly repeating,
spools of half-hearted "I'm sorry's" unwinding,
foolproof promise to cover for her missed absence.
I keep on reloading, rewinding, replaying
watching the film of our lives together, pausing
at moments where temporarily, I confess,
unpredictable happiness ceased repeating.
This trainwreck of a show carries on, blistering
slides that I want to swipe clean, but her name suppress
stained slates developing, deflecting, destroying.
I throw away the footage, romanticizing
sheer ideas of finally making progress
forgetting her. But relapses result repeating
bad habits. There is not a remedy. I cling
to the seasons of the past, wanting to digress
reminding, rewinding, removing, regretting,
until the cloth is clean, her faults keep repeating.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 9:55 AM UTC
Look at me...
I was made for you.
In ancient of days for you
Into your nostrils came forth life
Then I was gaved to you
I dwelled in caves with you
Held back in slave days with you.
Cried days, nights long, meant so
Much just to stay with you
Did you know I was raised with you?
I was raised by you?
Then I was turned around by some
Strengh, and I raised you too?
It was me.
I have always been right there
With you
And you are the reason why I do
Everything I do.
I remember a time when
The world wasn't amazed
By you
But yet I fore your babies
So that you could see you for you.
Yes... I was made to spend
My days with you.
So why don't you look at me?
Why don't you see me?
I have been in love with you but you
Weren't in love with me.
I came down from the sun to you,
From god. With you I sailed the sea
I've been for you and with you,
How could you not see me?
I carried babies for you
So that you could see yourself
Because that was your greatest wealth.
Its still your greatest wealth
And without me, you
Cannot recreate yourself
This is me; I am your dynasty
The way it was, the way it is,
And supposed to be
So why don't you look at me?
Why don't you know my worth and beauty?
Why doesn't your heart see me?
Why have you lost yourself?
Why don't you know your own wealth?
Why have you despised wisdom
And chose to decline your
Own self?
Why aren't you fighting for me?
I am almost absolute
Why do you believe you exist
In a world
That doesn't care
About me?
I wish you'd hear a burden
I wish you spoke the truth
I wish you understood some
Things
I wish that you was foolproof
... for I have loved you
But I do not believe you love
Me
Yet, I choose to believe in
Ourselves.
If I could just get you to see me
-look at me-
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 7:46 PM UTC
To be with the prince of the air
You need muscle, bone and feathers
Wings of freedom, limbs of grace-
A sky realm once called heaven
But to get a little higher up
Into outer space and beyond
You need a foolproof space helmet
To wave the astronaut’s wand
But to get to the third realm of heaven
Is a bit more difficult and slow
But might be easy for a few-
All you need is a halo
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 1:34 PM UTC
Just slowly hold your breath,
Then fake your own death,
By using a foolproof plot,
Tricking everyone on the spot,
Confusing the supernatural,
With a boring script for your funeral,
Filled with synthetic flowers,
And a pretentious bunch of mourners,
Who can reenact the melodrama,
Without breaking their persona.
You can scribble your own prayers,
And rearrange all the chairs,
As if they're watching a movie flop,
Or a bomb about to be dropped,
Their faces painting either sorrow,
Or the joy of a free desperado
You can lace the refreshments,
With a dash of resentment,
And hire a clown to spill ***** jokes,
To make them laugh until they choke.
Enjoy the show of your grand design,
As both friends and enemies fall in line.
Jan 19, 2018
Jan 19, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
I know I've never had a heart 'til now
I know you never had so much shine in your eyes
I know you never intended to love me
But you will.
I know I've made so many mistakes
I know I caused all the tears you did spill
I know I've never been a good man
But I will.
Your eyes are the flames that push me along
Your love is the temple in which we belong
And I know we've never ruled this land
But we will, oh babe, we will.
I know my love isn't exactly a shrine
I know at one point you didn't care for my time
I know you never wanted to be mine
But you will.
I know my word isn't exactly foolproof
I know all my life I've avoided the truth
And I know I've never wanted to give it all up
But I will.
Your eyes are the flames that push me along
Your love is the temple in which we belong
And I know we've never ruled this land
But we will, oh babe, we will.
I know I'm a ******* a bleeding heart squirm
I know I'm a punk and I'll never learn
I know your love, I have not earned
But I will.
Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 11:39 AM UTC
Take my hand,
we'll fuse our last
few folding dollars together,
and we'll walk our snowbound streets
and try to fend off the cold.
Find a place that's too familiar,
shivering hands on the door.
Halfway laughing.
Half a cough
as we protest we're still not old.
Break the skin,
I'll break the silence.
Sigh
and watch our breaths ascend
the frigid night.
Tell me, "Show me something beautiful
or let me leave the light."
Now, fill me up. Just sing that tune.
Two songs of piling rust.
I love
the way you croon.
I'm just a walking ghost.
But what does that make you?
Red-faced or blue?
Two-faced or true?
Do you stay?
Or cry, "Adieu!"?
Strike the band,
they'll play the last
few notes of that "Civil Twilight."
and we'll speak our foolproof plans
and try to forget the cold.
'Til you say, "That's too familiar."
Make your way to the door.
Half a laugh.
caught in throat
I hope they'll draw out that last note.
Break the skin,
you **** the silence,
laugh-
-ing with descending face
and frozen eyes,
saying, "Show me something beautiful
and let me leave the light."
Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 7:36 PM UTC
Generally cheerful institutions
school and hospital, The Constitution,
roadways with their yellow stitch lines.
Order on the mountainside, in the city,
the veneer is thin, the people thrifty,
the freedom to associate unlimited.
Smoke the cigarette, sound the subwoofer,
I woof and bay like every other dog, proof
one cannot escape the planet, life's foolproof.
Magic's secret- rabbit, lion- the inner
animus emerges from the hat. One eats magicians,
the other's skewered for dinner.
Thus, happy and sad at once, death a solace
and a fearsome fright. As the dashed lines pass,
confidently, and when necessary, I drive fast.
An afternoon, one hundred years of solitude
for our silver maple. Microscopic magnitudes:
the snake's skin, the fly's wing, the man's mood.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Though the courts say in God we trust
There ain’t no justice for us
Cos we’re forced to plea bargain a bust
Which adds to our general disgust
It’s the lack of parity
When it comes to sentencing see
While others routinely walk free
If it’s me they throw away the key
How come I always get the max
Regardless of the given facts
Is it any wonder why I can’t relax
Would you if the deck’s always stacked
I’m robbed of my liberty
And my labor is practically free
I’m locked up in knavery
Though it smacks back to slavery
Innocent until proven guilty
Never applied don’t cha see
From the moment they knows it’s me
Facing the charges that be
I’m given exorbitant bail
So I cannot get out of jail
And it’s foolproof guaranteed not to fail
Because justice has an unequal scale
Guilty or not of the crime
Nine times out of ten you’ll find
I’m somewhere up state doing time
And I’m used as a paradigm
For what’s wrong with society
I’m the poster child don’t cha see
So they point their fingers at me
Despite the disparity
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015, All rights reserved.
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 7:31 AM UTC
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.
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 1:27 AM UTC