"hubristic" poems
Do as ye do because thou loveth it,
and compete foremost with thyself.
Should ye happen to best many others:
Great. Good for thee. Consider teaching.
If ye happen to be worse than others:
Keep yer chin up. Seek to learn from it.
Become neither hubristic nor discouraged!
Hark! I shall be waiting at the finish line!
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
Short sidedness,
blistering thoughts;
selfish predisposition:
What a world!
Hypocritical claims
about profound lack of wisdom
and fear of loneliness;
Deeply ironic statements
about some lust to be alone
that you felt as you ******
Your words seem well chosen and articulated,
and perhaps in time will become true;
but it seems to me that they right now
are as hollow and transient as the space
between your actions, logic, and resolve:
I've found very little
that can make me stop
to laugh and cry all at once,
perhaps a few pieces of Beethoven's music and some really ******* good metal;
but you sit atop that short list
on your rather gorgeous and elegant hubristic throne,
mocking the progress I've made,
oozing with scorn and spite:
You have so much to learn before you will be regarded as you like to assume you are:
"Responsible"; word around the campfire is: hardly.
"Honest"; perhaps in words, but apparently not actions.
"Mature"; physically, it seems, but mentally? Not so much.
"Respectful"; only to yourself, and seemingly not even that.
I tried to help, and clearly failed.
If it were a test, you cheated;
didn't bother to see how it could've been,
but hey:
at least you were honest.
At least you told the Truth,
though your actions were untrue.
I thought I loved you;
I thought I needed you.
Perhaps I did,
but it has run it's course:
you killed it on purpose.
I suppose it served it's purpose to you;
that I have served my purpose to you.
I detach myself from you,
and from myself, in the process,
and in the process, I fall in love
with those aspects of myself
I so seek in others:
Darkness; honesty. Honor. Intellect.
Humour. Creativity, balance. Respect.
A level of elegance, but an amount of **** it";
Mental maturity, to an extent.
A moderate badass. A **** badass.
Though, it seems,
the path to Heaven is paved with good intentions,
and is built with the bones of the hopeful,
and is illuminated by unfounded faith
in ****** ******* people:
A mandala of Irony.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 9:46 PM UTC
A satisfied appetite is a simply joy
Overlooked and simplified
Like a growing urge, a salivating need
That is entrancing and glorified.
Everlasting for moments we call meals
Forgotten in time, lingering above
But the taste, the lonesome lover pushed aside
Gazes afar and near wanting to be enjoyed again
The young lady with a tongue of raspberry delight
And the matured widow with darkened cacao lips
Ripening nectar of a sliced peach center
Halved and topped with mascarpone crème
The man with a skin of caramel glaze
Caressing and savoring
With a fragrance and scent
Of hazelnut coffee indulgence and sin
In the pursuit of a brief love affair
What oral sensation did my taste buds want?
My odyssey of gustatory endeavors await
Through the seas of lined people and waiting staff
Generous portions and humble pies
Decadent desserts so rich you’ll die
Vine cherry tomatoes sliced and sauté
Over al dente rigatoni in a roasted cashew sauce
A robust aroma and savory appeal
Basil leaves with garlic strips
Olive oil to top the surreal
Hubristic meatball aborigine
Elysian cuisine or many dreams
Teasing the senses, warming the pit
Of flowing pleasures
And tingling fingertips
Without moral measures
And succulent wines
Rotisserie lamb falling of the bone
Seasoned with Sicilian herbs
And paired with broiled asparagus
Drizzled with lemon juice
And a glass of Merlot
Spices I hardly know
Lachrymose apologies beside a bottle of faded sorrows
With love there is pain, passion endured through the names
Thin soups, flavorless and dull, feeding street-thrown bums
Breathing hard against the delicatessen glass
Hickory smoked hams, pepper-seasoned pastrami
Vinegar cultured pickles and hard dried salami
Unpleasured, without measure, at one's leisure.
Forever my endeavor
Blackcurrant tea laced with slivers of gooping honey
Layers of cinnamon hair atop olive skin
red-painted doors with cedar trim
crushed almonds mixed with hazelnut butter cream spread
devilish rounds of crumbling rum-swirl bread
Smells and wonders, tastes so ...
oh god
Divine and sublime.
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 5:42 PM UTC
Verbiage
Sagacious humans would concur
Salacious verbiage is trenchant
Verdant language withers a guileless soul
Hubristic linguists deem limpid oratory irksome
A Didactic, petulant, boorish, garrulous, nefarious, obtuse, and insolent
Overtone is not my intent
Puckish, risible, mannered, jocular, antic, and adroit
Reverberations I am manifesting
TRANSLATION
Words
Smart people would agree
Healthy words are sharp
Unripe words die naive spirits
Self-confident word users find simple language annoying
Moral instruction, rude, insensitivity, wordy, wicked, blunt, and contemptuous
Feelings are not my purpose
Impish (silly), laughable, artificial, playful, clownish, and clever
Reactions I'm hoping to create
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 12:15 PM UTC
Life is a sacred journey.
No two are the same.
Respect for divergence
is paramount
to a holistic experience.
Life
is not about
status-quo
or
expectations,
t'is simply what's made thereof
Lyphe
is a sacred opportunity
not to be taken lightly
Our Bodies
are our umbilical vessels
which tether us
as mortals
to "Reality,"
which, in itself,
seems to me to be
a reduction of potentials
from chance
to actuality
such ephemeral eternety;
infinite limitations;
actualized potentials;
possible paths-
these are but some of
the koan-like attributes
which lead me to use
the rather ambiguous
and ambitious
term "sacred."
Truly,
it becomes
whatthefucksoever
One may well will
to create thereof.
Action is Manifestation,
yet Thought begets Action.
Therein lies the sacred gift of Life.
'T'is all too oft taken for granted.
Every living being
(i am convinced)
has an equally vivid depth of experience
and I find it more than somewhat offensive
that humans (with a lowercase H)
feel they are the penultimate organism.
All is One
in that existence, itself,
tethers us all
to everything
and probably even beyond,
and so
to be so
hubristic and arrogant
as to assume a hierarchy
so convieñantly crested by mere
**** Sapiens Sapiens*
seems to me to be
an anthrocentric and narcissistic projection
of that meddlesome ages-old archetype
of the "Ego,"
that is to say "God,"
whatthefuckever that means!
Find it in thyself
to be humble enough
to accept that each and every iota of "Creation"
is, by virtue of association, equally sacred; divine.
Heirarchy, thus, seems to be a manifestation of some desire for order; control; a yearning to alleviate some hypothetical insecurity as a result of being essentially "absolute, infinite" (vis-a-vis the domain of Consciousness) yet contained within a vessel that is mortal, and, thus, ephimeral.
The Ego doth so loathe it's own limitations:
too bad it's far too arrogant to realize that most of the limitations it experiences are illusions, allusions;
charades of an insatiable Consciousness
Hell-bent on experiencing something
it won't redily allow itself to experience!
What a Holy fuckton of
incredulous, ineffable, impalpable, inspirational **** that would be, eh?! (insert interrobang)
I am me (I think...)
as thou art thee;
so why can't that just be good enough?
Could it be?
What obstruction precludes such harmonious divergence?
I reckon 't'is but us;
and very little else, indeed!
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 9:37 AM UTC
Step 1: Legalize all drugs and treat their possession as a public health issue, as is practiced in Portugal
Step 2: Get all nonviolent drug offenders out of prison and (A) into treatment when dealing with harder drugs like meth/coke/heroin (B) get the *** growers some jobs doing what they're good at, and watch as the extra tax revenues progressively revitalize both local and national economies. (1)
Step 3: Fill the new vacancies in the nation's prison system with the entire US government and the top 1% of income earners as punishment for their hubristic crimes against nature and humanity.
Step 4: Forgive all debts and redistribute all of the assets of the aforementioned parties among the entire population, but especially the impoverished classes, to create socioeconomic balance.
Step 5: Decentralize the economy and rebuild it along the lines of federated, autonomous municipalities, based on common ownership of economic resources, free education and healthcare, and participatory democracy. Once this is done, we can let the former government and 1% out of prison. (2)
Brought To You By: Homunculus For President (but not for very long, because being an authority figure would sort of contradict the entire essence of the society I just described) 2016
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 3:48 AM UTC
Naziism gained it's foothold in Germany
when the Reichstag was burned down:
this gave them the pretext needed
to suspend the rights of the Citizenry indefinitely
to ensure "security".
Sound familiar?
It should be frightening how similar it in fact is to modern events:
This rhymes with modern American legislation:
CISPA, the PATRIOT acts, the NDAA, etc.
Governments have always used such events
to catalyze and capitalize their own motives:
Tread lightly.
We enter a new age of Oppression with each passing administration;
we are not immune because we are hubristic
if anything, we are more vulnerable for it.
Sieg Heil,
für Gott ist mit uns.
Wir können nicht verloren
denn Gott ist mit uns.
Sieg Heil,
Amerika über alles.
Sieg Heil,
Das viertes ***** wird herum.
Sieg Heil.
Sieg Heil.
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 6:00 PM UTC
Spite and disdain:
the sustenance of modern society.
Oh how we love to talk **** on others
while ourselves being perfect and blame free:
How is the weather? How is the view?
Up there in your tower, with nothing but you?
So high above the filth that makes up the rest of us,
tell me, o Majesty, how things seem to you,
with your flawless perception,
perfect opinions,
passive-aggressive disdain,
and hubristic spite.
"Wer im Glashaus wohnt sollt nicht im Wohnzimmer bumsen."
"[One] who lives in a glass house shouldn't **** in the living room."
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 3:04 AM UTC
How my hubristic heart grows heavy
With the blithering brevity
That is love -
Love how I scorn the very
Mention of the word, the worst word;
One made of tacky two buck cards
And cheap chocolate samplers.
Why love is nothing but absurd!
Tis on the mind of every man,
Burning Life's color til she grows wan
And waxen, my dear lady do not
Let the soft, sweet poppy besot
You - I know it's true face,
A sickly, febricula I fail to efface.
Love, how I abhor the name,
The act duplicitous for all involved,
There are no winners, merely fools
Left to drown in the din of falderal.
**** it to hell, that venomous visage!
I refuse to accept such a curse as love,
How I spit the letters one by one,
With you, fair monster, I am done.
Yet, I cannot seem to help
How much I yearn to stretch taunt
My heart til my love is gaunt,
Fraught with fear and thin with time;
It will be my undoing
All because I can't start shooing
That nuance of a feeling on its way
To ruin some other simpleton's day.
How I love to hate ye,
Are the thoughts that reside
Like a warm body curled beside me.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 11:06 PM UTC
Ponds, lakes, rivers, seas
I be crying late night
But no one feels
They are the 'cause of my pain
Though still don't ask
And non of them feel
I'm tearing apart
My flame is growing inside of me
But they don't feel
No one taught us to love ourselves
That's why I'm weak
People take control of me..
WILL THEY EVER UNDERSTAND?!
That i have feelings just as they do
That i need to be taken care of
No, no one understands
WILL THEY EVER UNDERSTAND?!
I don't think they ever will
'Cause they are arrogant
Haughty, overbearing, hubristic
So why would they care
They have themselves to take care of.....
By: Zoulaikha
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 7:07 PM UTC
You must do it for You.
No one can do it for You,
and you are alive for You.
You are not endebted to anyone
by virtue of existing;
except perhaps your Mother and Father,
but that's another story.
You owe it to no one to be a certain way
to look a certain way
to talk a certain way;
You owe it to yourself to be who you are,
to express yourself truly,
to come to terms with yourself.
You must do it for You
not because you are arrogant, selfish, or even hubristic,
but because it is you who suffers
when you fail to do it for yourself.
(As a result, those around you suffer, as well.)
You must be there for yourself
for you are stuck with you
in a far more than personal sense;
You must do it for you,
not because you are all that matters,
but because you are all you can control
if only you knew how:
Meditate.
Observe yourself as objectively as you can
though be not harsh to yourself
except when you need to be.
You are an extra-dimensional being
looking through a looking glass
that happens to be trapped in the Third Dimension.
Your prism is of a higher power than we can perceive;
perhaps that is why it is so elusive and "ineffable".
So, again,
Do it for yourself.
You'll thank me later.
Or, maybe not. Maybe this is only true for me;
either way I feel a need to express it, so there you have it.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 1:09 AM UTC
Sing, beloved, blessed, with boldness!
Sing to the causes of life and love,
Sing to the hoary stars above;
Such grace to bestow our promise!
Not without misery, pain, or woe,
Sing to the blackness and make it unso!
Sing to the absence of memory, time,
Sing to the love, the rhythm, the rhyme!
Sing, my beloved, to countless regrets;
Sing to the face of cold harbor chills;
Sing beneath arbors of turbulent skies;
Sing above witness, without claim distilled!
Sing to the freedom, that which we find,
Kept off and distant, no notion of time,
No more hubristic than a solemn man’s rhyme,
No more than a mystic foretelling sublime.
Sing above apathy, sing above pain,
Sing beneath empathy, lowly with shame,
Sing at the level of the beggar and call
That solitary banter which draws us all.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 2:22 PM UTC
Whirring blades decapitate hubristic
verdant stalks stretching beyond their station
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 9:13 AM UTC
Foraging and burrowing for solace as I hear my beckoning cat singing its hymn of luck...
An electric shock as she left a Hubristic phenomena that impelled itself into an energy disk
using its persona to become a mask
Leaving the host
Exploiting secrets, extorting the waves,
Leaving the host (alone)
in "whys" and "why nots"
creating parallels and contamination
in its solace, an energy box,
as aggression followed
to palliate the breeze
while space blazed and swirled creating new baby miracles everyday;
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 9:05 PM UTC
I wish I was an old ******* greek man
because then I would be dead and treasured
hubristic immortal
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 10:36 PM UTC
they keep telling me
I am a coward
for not believing in
an ineffable presence
for turning down the offer
of an eternal life
they keep telling me
that I am hubristic;
who am I to believe
god does not exist?
that I was made of
nothing
at all?
but still I do not understand
for does it not take courage
to leave behind all
rudimentary assumptions?
is it not the opposite of
hubris
to proclaim that we are
not special
we are
just
like
the
animals
that walk this earth with us
living
breathing
dying
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 10:06 PM UTC
As I bled the river with all of the elements combined
Lost in Unkown Hubristic form
leaving; checking out
finally
helping; to raise money to pay back for
months lost--
raising and raising--evaporation in the solecisms of the feeling of somebody
else's needle, a scapegoat for (their) life.
Eversion--turning inwards--is better,
better conceived,
better learned, an
easel for (your) life--never moving,
sill--
bright white for beautiful colors and fluent strokes to be placed upon; a
painting never
finished;
May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 10:02 PM UTC
There, a distant rumble, a wistful tickle of memory,
of lauded youth, expectant and callow, and now,
hubristic dreams long swamped, regretted, he sits alone,
the past unspoken, the opaque night thicker, heavier,
the clock nearly sated, and the sepia promise of a certain
time tattered, irretrievable, he nods and brightens
at lessons well learned.
Sep 10, 2020
Sep 10, 2020 at 5:02 PM UTC