"insincere" poems
gods and goddesses stilled mid-flight,
immortalized in a glory fast fading.
distilled sunlight filtering through, unheeded,
as a devastating dawn for redemption awakens.
_dust scattering over marble hands, forever supple,_
as angels fall from grace,
wings clipped and torn asunder.
the sigh of a thousand lost souls, searching;
the thunder of a thousand chariots, unbridled.
_a wing outstretched, a bow pulled taught;_
drawn, not fired.
frozen heroes lifting voices unheard;
_the calm before a storm, a fight unforeseen,_
silver linings beckoning victories
of heaven's epics left unsung.
look up into the clouds and you'll see a history unwritten,
for they speak to you in murals
of smeared colors and pure light.
but hush! sweet child,
off you drift into an insincere sleep,
until these stories buried beneath your lips,
singed, searing, burning away memories of the battles that
linger ,over your tongue ,
are no more than a shadow of a flame.
and as his lashes flutter closed over blue eyes
and his heavy golden curls fall on white sheets
she whispers,
_the renaissance was not painted for you._
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 10:08 AM UTC
How can I access these feelings
I’ve never felt before?
No experience can measure to the
pain I feel internally, fragmentally.
I’ve never felt real pain,
but I can write.
I can imagine how it is to feel this way
is this indirect or insincere?
I’m not sure.
But I feel it.
In my lungs I feel it.
In my heart I feel it.
In my brain I feel it.
Pain I’ve never experienced,
It’s inside of me
and I can’t make it leave.
How do I make it leave?
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
Why do you love the one you do?
Arrogant as he lives
Intriguing minds have not a clue.
He cheats, he lies and receives your endless forgives
Security he cannot propose
Financially, spiritually, emotional or otherwise.
Love unfaithfully he bestows
Disguised as Christian he justifies.
Smothered in the cocoon of his limited sphere,
Hinders flight for the beautiful butterfly,
Egotistically the coward oozes insincere.
Sadly pondering, inquiring minds ask Why?
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 12:55 AM UTC
I get frustrated sometimes
When people don't follow lore
Or the unspoken laws of RP
When people refuse to consider others in their actions
Or give insincere sentiments
I get frustrated sometimes just because
It's all very frustrating
And sometimes, it makes me hate people
But that's a bit irrational isn't it?
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 2:56 PM UTC
Tiger, Tiger they all called him.
Faces marked with smiles grim.
Office buzzed with word tiger, tiger.
He was one but many they were.
Full day continued insincere flattery.
End of month 'twas, day for salary.
Then story took melodramatic turn.
Like tiger he moved, demeanor stern.
Outright he announced party that night.
Everyone attended in clothes bright.
They gossiped, danced and dined.
Happily they all boozed and wined.
He sat like a tiger circled by coterie;
And the total bill was half the salary.
I looked through magnifying glass;
And saw pack of wolves and an ***
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 6:32 AM UTC
i cry to feel emotion
to sympathize
to confirm my mortality
to express joy
to release bottled up
hate, sadness, guilt
but the worst is when i cannot cry
i beg the tears to trickle down my face,
only for me to wipe them away
the absence of them
makes me feel like
my sentiments aren’t true
they’re fraud, phony, insincere
if i can’t control or understand my own tears
why should i expect someone
to dry them for me?
because i can’t explain
why they’re present in one instance
and absent in the next
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 6:39 PM UTC
I live inside myself
my own little world
I read my own books
and poetry
and listen to my own music
sure, I absorb others material
as much as I can
but I am only a lurker
looking over the Earth
silently
from my dark little island
gazing over seas
both digital and real
wondering how the others do it
Are they just good at pretending?
Are they really not as insincere
as they all appear?
These feelings, or lack thereof
are thrown up like smoke signals
from the fire inside me
hoping another
might see or hear
with eyes, ears, heart, soul and mind
that are almost mine
to rescue me
from this strange illusion
of my own creation
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 5:32 PM UTC
You don't seem to think with Reason;
root Chakra so loud and gratifying.
So very much louder,
and as if that makes it right,
and as if it makes up for
all that lack of self control:
You don't seem to think with Reason,
your root Chakra is your puppeteer.
Playing with Fire,
One gets ******* burnt.
What did you expect? Then again,
you don't seem to think with Reason.
Unbalanced Root Chakra;
so very loud and gratifying,
leaves you cracked and empty;
hollow. Wallowing. I know
this is hard to swallow,
but, do you follow?
You bring it on yourself!
You called it down, summoned it!
You played with Root Chakra Fire
and we're all still getting burnt.
You might have saved yourself,
but I am still enduring it;
Each time I think of Love,
Pain instead comes to Mind
because that is how those I have Loved have treated me.
"You're such a good person", they've said.
Hah! That's either ******** or just insincere,
'cause they've sure as **** shown me
what it is they thought I deserved:
Reap the words of one you've broken down.
Behold the Wrath you've ******* sewn about!
Dark Actions propagate dark Feelings;
Face the repercussions of your Actions:
This is a Reflection of you!
This is a Reflection of what you have done!
This is no appeal to Guilt;
for what good would that do?
--
I guess we must think differently, and that's fine.
I guess I am just so offended
'cause I hold *** with reverence;
To me, *** ******* means something,
and I thought of *** as an extension and expression of our Love and
not just another ******* Addiction.
Turns out it was just another ******* Addiction
and you got your ******* fix,
but where's mine?
You've become just another ******* Addiction
that I am now forced to quit
cold-turkey.
Just another addiction.
(I was) Just another addiction.
(You are) Just another addiction.
Just another ******* Addiction after all.
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 11:00 AM UTC
Alone, I sit with my feet
propped in front of the flames.
Heat pushes along the curve of my instep.
Bug spray coats my legs and arms, stickier
than sweat, which flows like raindrops down the back
of my neck, pools in the valley between my *******
Even the air feels too warm in my lungs.
Games and night walks do not appeal
to me as I sit in stifling confinement without
a cool breeze to whisper relief. Suffering the fire pit’s front
row seat wins over stretching my lips into insincere
smiles, watching, but absent, while
my friends talk of a life
I try to forget.
Snickers buzz up to my ears.
I lean my head back
as a whole pitcher
showers me with
arctic salvation.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
The crowd sits patiently
Waiting
For magic
At the hands of this
Magician
He smiles at them
Connecting
With every soul
The first trick of any
Magician
They prepare themselves
Trusting
To not be cheated
By this intriguing
Magician
He entertains them into
Loving
His every act
Reassuring the conniving
Magician
The crowd goes wild
Loving
The magic on stage
Erupting from this
Magician
He smiles once again
Secretly
Knowing the deciet
Of a trap set by a
Magician
The audience has been made
Foolish
For believing
In this insincere
Magician
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 6:22 AM UTC
Lost notions of hope
fade into thin air,
developing with destructive growth.
Warm sunlight on an early morning
evaporates a single teardrop.
Broken waves crash
in debilitating consolation.
Moaning winds blend to create
agonizing discontent.
Darkness brings upon
growing rage and
Remorseful renegade
ends with burnt offerings
and insincere apologies.
Misty air dissipates,
dishes break.
You and I
replace foggy memories full of
grief and regret and unsaid words
with
Indifferent opinions
lacking courage or conviction or compassion
creating comforting chaos.
The slumbering void
full of encompassing individuality
somehow pulls us closer.
Freedom and peace
found.
-andrea
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 8:55 PM UTC
My skin is raw from the frequent scalding hot showers.
I want to scrub your fingerprints off my body.
I don’t want to smell of your deceivingly sweet nectar,
I don’t want to feel your lingering embrace any longer.
It is no use.
I know that if someone were to kiss my body,
They would taste the insincere plague of your tongue.
They would absorb your flimsy forevers,
And those tender kisses that were meant for only me.
It is no use.
I cannot forget.
It is impossible for me to peel off these imprints.
So instead I will cover them.
I want to tattoo the first time you kissed me all over my body.
I want to tattoo our beach trip on my thighs.
Our day at the amusement park on my feet.
That’s where the skin is thinnest.
Poke close to my fragile bones.
I want it to hurt as much as possible.
It needs to sting.
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 3:33 PM UTC
infatuated with me
you became my biggest enemy
something insincere about how you wanted me
i was there to take the edge off
coke binges at the bar every other night
and you wonder why your hairline is moving backwards
you caused my mood to lose all stability then
crying for your attention
you were starving for us to look past your lack of personality
you didn't need a reality show
you needed a reality check
at the time you were 23
way too old for me
you were grasping at straws to be pretty
we can see the crow's feet setting in and your liver failing
no amount of jogging can bring back your peak
you're the biggest cliché
you go to emo night unironically
you said you saw yourself in me
we are not the same
remember you were a prom king
Aug 7, 2021
Aug 7, 2021 at 6:50 PM UTC
you cry like lost toys and dead pets
there's nothing you can do about it right now
you cry like a small animal with a broken spinal chord
you keep whimpering, but it can only heal in time
you cry like pressing the skin of your palms
into the membranes of your eyes
when everything in your head is so cacophonous
you want to rub away all the little things you absorb
want that your hands could throw out this migraine
like a candy wrapper on the sidewalk
and if you believe hard enough that it's gone
you'll never notice the sugar rush or the comedown
so you press your hands to your face
as hard as you can and try to pray like a religious person
but you were raised christian and american and
the ways of believing and hoping and loving that you knew as a child
seem insincere now, and hard to speak
the language is not truthful
everything is what they told you it was not
nothing is what they told you it was
or everything was always what it was
and you or i could've told them that
and you think that wrapper might eventually end up in a landfill
if you go throwing it carelessly around
and sadness taken with too much sugar can be a toxic combination
so maybe making the bad things go away
is harder than throwing away the wrapper and enjoying the rush
maybe the wrapper is somewhere else now you can't get to
where you can't hear it crinkle or see it shrivel,
but you can still relentlessly feel it
getting whittled away by time and weather
while steadily melting down bits of you
as you pass your heart around
gasping inside the icebox
until one day you look up and the sun is a bloodier color
and your lungs are full of ice like pins
freezing inside of you
and when seconds before you had oxygen
as you begin choking, you think it's amazing how long
it seems to have been
since you were alive
your knuckles are dry from holding on
to a rusty ladder wrung
even when you want to move so badly
and there's nowhere to climb
you refuse to jump
and you're still trying to figure out
how to fall correctly
to break the least amount of limbs
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 6:45 PM UTC
lately happiness seems to come and go
like a lover who bores easily
as i don't offer them enough to stay
while the depression always returns
like an abuser, it's fists made of ravage fire
masquerading loyalty and love i know is insincere
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 5:31 PM UTC
When my mom was dying
We put a bed in the living room
Fresh from the hospital
In front of the piano
Behind the rocking chair
We still called it the "living room"
I didn't mention the cruel irony in that
And the living people
Who knew my mother
All came and sat around her
And we weren't allowed to touch her
Cause the morphine lost its memory
And every bit of her was falling down
Dozing in a straw house
When the weather man called for hurricanes
She was right there
But miles away from rescue efforts
And hand-holding daughters
Marilyn Monroe went the same way
In bed, I mean
Facedown
Her pill supply run out
And I imagine her room was a beautiful mess
Full of roses and tokens from insincere men
An icon deserves better than that
A pin up with no one
But ex-lovers and sheets to hold her
And a pillow stained with last lipstick kisses
All those little white beads of forgetfulness
Crawling on the floor
And happy birthday Mr. President
Billy woke up bawling the other night
In bed with a girl
Who was not my sister
And he called and told her he loved her still
She hugged my dog and cried into her fur
She finished the roll
Of toilet paper blowing her nose
There were three of us in bed that night
And two somewhere else
Continents, nations, states apart
The air in my room was like asphalt
And allergies weighing us down
Lulu barked at our crestfallen hearts
Under the supermoon
I turned into a twentysomethingwolf
Keen senses acute defenses
And all I could smell on my sheets
Was the kitchen I work in
I wanted to be human
Taste the fear and perfection
Of being a ******
In bed with a boy who is not family
A teenager whispering under sheets again
I stayed at home alone
Soothing, sighing, and howling sweet nothings
To my lonely bed
Telling mom and Marilyn Monroe
The fever dreams in my lone wolf head
Praying "please God, send us someone"
"Please God, let love burn us quick and strong"
"Please God, don't draw the blues out. We all buckle."
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 12:08 AM UTC
You are the light
streaming through the wings of a Phengaris Arion, butterfly.
The real blue a divergence
from the brilliant hybrid lanterns,
your radiant eyes.
I walked in reckless,
The slash the superheated steel,
ate the sea and drank the sky, died, and flew.
From the outside I came to you,
a reflection, you, yourself,
pineapple slices on banana leaf.
Curtain the day, let the glass go dark,
place the mattress on the lawn,
spawn nightmares in the street,
revel in an autumn rain, the dull dark white,
the blazing black awaiting dawn.
Your beauty is a tempest or swirling currents,
that caress all the senses, for it lies not only before the eye,
but in the content of action and creation, the heart in your endeavors.
Forget the insincere frauds and sharks scenting sorrow,
and feeding on misery in a frenzy.
We together can blunt the teeth of the shark with our joy.
Rose pink and fuchsia, euphoric light.
The Creature from the Black Lagoon on a drive in big screen,
black and white in the night. The air is scented electric.
Bright waters ripple in the spaces between us.
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 3:54 PM UTC
If all the worlds a stage
And we're mere players
I don't wanna play this game
With rewards so insincere
Deer in the headlights phase
You love to make me center stage
pulling my strings so harshly
The tragedy is terribly clear
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 11:37 PM UTC
I'm running about with my mind scattered around,
There you sit quietly alone on the ground.
I hardly see you, I'm in such a hurry.
As I whirl past your image is blurry.
When I stop for a moment to eat my meal,
You soft, quiet voice makes an appeal.
I don't even hear you, I'm not paying attention.
Your story begins with misapprehension.
When you notice how little my ears are hearing,
You become quiet depressed, your voice disappearing.
My response to this; agitated, and sharp.
Naturally, not failing to go straight through your heart.
"Darling, please, I'm quite busy today.
Yes, of course I'm listening, but remind me: What did you say?"
But to you the message is already made clear:
You are negligible, and my apology completely insincere.
There, your self-worth is crushed under my shoe.
You sit back quietly, shrouded in blue.
I brush off your discouragement, I have no time to spare.
As I rush out the door, you are left, though it may be unfair.
Sometimes things are just as they appear.
I am too preoccupied, and the top of my priorities you are no where near.
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 9:32 PM UTC
Please don’t say not all men, when me too
becomes me three, me four, then twenty,
two thousand, too many for boy to be boys
or locker room talk.
We can’t talk away when men power grab
for things they have no right to touch,
with 140 characters insincere apologizes.
It’s time to man up and speak out and say
that being a gentleman is more than chairs and doors.
It’s less bro fists, shrugs and awkward laughs.
Instead, it is not cool bro, and really man you know better.
Because we know better, we know what goes on behind
closed doors, and only dealing with it when the doors are open
is not a solution but a symptom of the problem.
Being a nice guy does not give you access to her thighs.
Compliments don’t allow you to pass judgements
and what she wears, where she goes and what she does
does not mean a free pass.
If this culture thinks silence is permission
than I will be loud until no one has to say me too.
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 11:35 PM UTC
Saw someone drop their phone
and laughed at them.
I'd like to watch the world drop
their stupid/smartphones
and have to look at each others
stupid goat like faces and gazes.
Remind me what heaven looks like,
all I remember is that I'm a scumbag
with moral insensitivity and
you are my nightmares off the page.
Simultaneously a classic,
also a contemporary gore piece.
A landmine seized by epidemic.
Walked away with an insincere
"I'll see you later",
and I responded with a sincere
"Whatever."
Maybe I'm destroying myself in
character slowly but it takes
so ******* long still.
I cheered an old man who crossed the street alone.
I'm getting too close to yelling at a manager,
and losing a job I need to much.
Too close to the edge, but
when I think about it I always am,
and when I think even harder
I hate everything so much.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 7:43 AM UTC
My eyes are not furnaces,
melting realities into idyllic casts
disfigured until their original forms
are but ashen memories
upon the ****** anvil.
Nor are my eyes windows
Through which I gaze
And through which others gaze back
Pure transparency
And no deception
Or mirrors that reflect
Images mimicked
Upon an insincere facade
Merely a copy
Never as beautiful as the first
My eyes are not any of these
They are pools of water
In which I see both myself
And that which is beneath
The world below the surface
Everything I see is painted me
The shade that I have made
For myself and no one else
Ugly, beautiful, personal
To me and me alone
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
grip it harder
till the breath can only seep out
tears are what I seek out
get you angry
see how you **** me now
bruises with a howl
a predator on the prowl
prey on me.
lay on me.
make it reckless
turn it fowl
sink your nails into my shoulder blades
your teeth into my ear lobes
***** whispers,
I want to hear those
insincere flows
just two interconnected weirdos
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 11:17 AM UTC
tis a sad day indeed when family turns to strangers.
when you look into the face that you have loved for years
and only see uncertainty and distance.
you know what I'm talking about....
when you dress up for their visits.
and worry what they think.
where stiff conversations
and insincere smiles dwell.
what happened?
I cannot remember a time with out you...
yet I find my self unsure as to how to spell your name.
I cannot remember our last laugh.
not these pretentious giggles
but cheek burning, tummy clutching, eyes tearing laughter.
I cant clearly see your face. hear your voice.
I cant remember your catch phrases. your jokes.
What happened?
I know not your friends, nor where you sleep at night.
what has caused this heart wrenching chasm to form?
I have loved you!
Where are you?
I have fought, kicked and screamed with and for you,
who do you fight for now?
What severed these bonds we swore would never brake?
What happened?
was it me?
was I not there?
did I send you away?
Oh the heart breaking pain...
I would do anything for you,
even now,
although I know not the person you have become.
I would die for you.
and I do... a little more each day.
would you do the same?
What happened?
why did you leave me?
I am your sister, your blood,
yet you are no where in sight.
I miss you..... oh God I miss you.
What happened?
tell me and i will fix it.
I swear i will,
because, dear sister i miss you
so much that it hurts.
I wake up at night
and I wounder, are you still alive?
If so then why do i feel so empty.
tis a sad day when your name falls from my lips
and sounds clumsy. as if it didn't belong.
I miss you...
What happened to you?
to our bond?
was it I who did you wrong?
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 9:52 PM UTC
Nothing is simple now… and nothing ever was.
But i recall the majesty of my naivete’
and linger in the triumphant fog of my illusions
as a young man of almost a Minute.
Be that, as it may.
i am not among the Mockingjays
nor the calendars of arbitrary
Days.
I am the eclipse of insincere Living.
i blot out the None.
with blueberries from an indigo
Genesis: i stain my sky with every unbelievable Promise -
my Calculus can muster. My Love in tow.
I gather at the edgeless mist
of my Identity and etch the core
of my consecrated cacophonies
into the bones of dead whales like Scrimshaw
for deep kids.
And that's It.
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 2:21 AM UTC