"misanthropy" poems
Young people can you feel the suffering?
roca wear, gucci, apple, facebook, mcdonalds, apple bee's,
honda, lamborghini, harvard, Community College
american express, pnc bank, walmart
Wage Slaves, ceos, owners, lenders, renters, indebtedness
Structural dehumanization, systematic mechanization
Exploited labor feeding blood to your hungering consumerism
Young people you are embracing MISANTHROPY!
Embracing the hate of your own humanity! Why the hypocrisy?
Wealthy children, poor children
Trying for enlightenment through education
Parents garnering wealth through the oppression of their victims
Parents garnering debt through the oppression from economic inequality
Still you invest and promote the only legitimization of your being: CAPITALIST UTILITY
Capitalism engineering unrelenting misanthropy
Vicious economic system discarding humanity
Perfecting the concentration and accumulation of wealth
With the expansion of human alienation and murderous competition
Prostituting your body to labor exploitation and consumerism
Where does your wealth end up?
multinational companies? financial corporations? military arms contractors?
Loyalty lies in their pockets, backstabbing everyday tactics
Killing you through the exploitation of your body
Because they know the birth of another proletariat or bourgeoisie can replace you
Entities, not human, how much have they bought you for so that you cannot see!!!
Beware of these misanthropic missionaries granting your body power and agency
When your body can no longer be plundered for profit you will taste tears and blood
Young people will you deliver your forefathers and fathers
From worshiping capitalist misanthropy?
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
When we think about the choices in our lives
When we fight and we bicker and become bitter
When we think there is only power or powerlessness
If we can realize that there is power and powerlessness
Then haven't we began to acquire consciousness
In that instance haven't we began the process of choice
That there is those who have not have given birth to this consciousness
To those who have only lived powerlessness
And know nothing else
Haven't you owed them part of your consciousness
That you have ceased to be one of them
Or your mere power has denied one of them
That there is no choice for them
Because they haven't birthed that consciousness
And if you choose power they'll remain powerless
Because within you there is no loyalty, right?
It is a choice predicated by an erroneous concept of self-preservation
It is a treacherous dichotomy; doesn't make sense
This is not an indictment of your desire not to suffer
Because surely to hold power would cease your suffering
But it is this type of power that thrives on the proliferation of powerlessness
This conceptual understanding of what it means to have power
That is not what we've come learn, but readily ascribe to
That a mind and body can cultivate power
That can be harvested, shared, communal
For the sole purpose of the survival of the other, not the self
That that can survive in this world is impossible
Its antithetical to the modes of production
In which our societies operate and thrive
How can workers begin to derive power from their collective efforts
How can workers' purchasing power equal the power of the production of their labor
How can any community in any corner of the world escape
The misanthropic missions of first world free trade capitalism
When will we reclaim our escaping humanity
When will we cease to keep feeding the system with our minds, our bodies, our labor
How much longer can we become fodder, scraps, waste feeding the machine
And don't think that you are safe when you have made it
When you have entered the circle of dominance
Because it is then when you will loose your humanity or die
It is at that apex of power that your presence becomes
Just as dispensable as that of the powerless
Because to maintain that circle of dominance
Requires a total conversion to misanthropy
The rigor with which your power will be required
To keep proliferating powerlessness will give no break
And when you become useless, it will replace you
So that we must realize that the modes of production
That we allow to exploit us
In powerlessness, or the semblance of power
Can never safeguard our humanity
How much further will we allow power to be concentrated
So that soon we ourselves, or our children won't have a choice
Won't have the consciousness of power just powerlessness
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 9:49 PM UTC
the barker in charge
is sniffing markers
& the dog's the one
in the shock collar.
good god.
I'll come back
tomorrow.
galapagos, I'm sorry.
rocketship jalopy
wrote a handbook on
banana boat cutthroat
reconnaissance exotica,
abominable
beast of tropic atrophy
broke folk casualty engulfed
in telescopes & TV shows
being monitored thru a monocle
the theatrical apathy & topical misanthropy
can anybody understand me?
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 8:47 PM UTC
Look at him,
paper-mache angel wings
stapled on an empty
toilet paper tube,
preacher of the gospel
of selective misanthropy,
mourned by shredding
secular holy books in
tiki-torch candlelight.
If you must remember him,
and pray, you needn't,
do so in truth,
as a simpleton's martyr,
no more, no more.
Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 1:30 PM UTC
It consists of this,
all of it and none
I found solace in that
which I could not hold
but only cherish as fond memoirs
of a terrible moment in time
Never full, never empty
it turned into an addiction
derogation of the unwise, with no premise
bawls and shrieks have no place here
this is silent lucidity capsized
hundreds of expressions explaining one thing
one thing that explains it all
Destination: lost
with no means to propel the self
into a promising new day,
pray tell, what will break down the wall
self loathing and misanthropy creates
alone in a crowd, here, but far away
none of it is that important anyway
The smile stealer, grin eater
mood killer, running short of edification
It's never alone; in bed with misery
the smallest things distress
the grandest of thoughts
wanting reprieve, searching escape
as if you could
die and stain pride?
No
Cowardice is lower than this
not worse, just pathetic
but please, ignore my terrible advocacy,
everything is half off today
I'm feeling generous.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
I am hopelessly attracted to grumpiness
impatience
poignancy
eccentricity
introversion
stubbornness
anxiety
misanthropy
frustration
hedonism
vulgarity
How, then, do I define 'imperfection'?
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 8:37 PM UTC
we're all armed
with an appliance
of emancipation
we can nurture non-violent
defiance in a
non-compliant ethos of
antiauthoritarian self-reliance
we have the ability to eliminate the
vestiges of imperialism and
dominant dogmas that choke
and impede our creativity and shackle
our imagination to impotent ideologies
fragmented unrealities augmented
by fractures in our psyche
tendrils of theology that prey
upon our fear and exacerbate
conditioned responses that are
at once
unnatural and irrational
and lead
inexorably
to infantile expressions of
regression and fantasies of an
aggression rooted in the
suppression of dissent and
the oppression of dissidents
deities
as impotent
as our terror
of the unknown
by the promise of security and prosperity
a cabal of brutish thugs have erected an
imaginary hierarchy and demanded our
subservient obedience and reverence for
this malfeasant apparatus that leeches
our paychecks and robs all of our dignity
while somehow retaining the illusion of liberty
a delusion that festers like an open wound
a tumorous ulcer oozing foul fluid into our minds
blotting out our capacity for cultivating a
future divorced from misanthropy
so pour kerosene on this fluttering
flame of revolt before it sputters out
if we'd quit looking back and forth at
one another rotting in the gutters
checking to see if we have more to
our name than our sisters and our brothers
we might just muster the courage to overthrow
the vapid and misguided fictions that
divide and segregate us into pawns
trapped in this unending rat race
they've deemed the American Dream
harness the revolutionary tenacity
dormant in humanity's most important *****
infinite potential latent in every molecule
each neuron dancing across synaptic
gaps and fanning the embers of an engine
that gives motion to this evolutionary frame
the human brain is omnipotent
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 1:26 PM UTC
the invisible hand is in my pocket
pilfering everything
and there's nothing i can do
to stop it from robbing me blind
it does not guide it only destroys
personal expression under the
whims of an outmoded model of economics
capitalism
a philosophy that subscribes
to the metaphysical conclusion
that a spiritual malady
plagues every human heart
a harsh chorus that rings like a melody
of triumph in the multi-million dollar
mansions of the 1%
convinced we're born selfish
it seeks to reward us for our own malpractice
an edict predicated on social darwinism
that forestalls the possibility of future charity
as it drowns in the throes
of misanthropy and butchers any hope
of philanthropic community or basic humanity
to vanquish our more maleficent impulses
relegated to paying taxes
to ensure the illusion of security
while our money finances endless
war and police brutality rather than
healthcare or education
they know if they keep us sick and dumb
they can get away with ******
if the population shirks in horror
from the looming specter of terrorism
they can justify ubiquitous surveillance
that robs us of our right to
self-determination but
people should not be afraid of their governments
governments should be afraid of their people
they say we can't be trusted
that this is for our own good
but i'll call their bluff that
bull on Wall St. is full of ****
and like a matador i'll entice it to
lower its horns and charge
when itsjust a hairsbreadth away
i'll turn to one side and let it skewer
the slave-driver raising his whip behind me
that same skulking shadow that turns
veterans into homeless wanderers begging
for loose change in Central Park
a pale horse haunting the aspirations
of college students it
leaves the poor and
oppressed shivering after dark and
overburdens broken backs
god doesn't hold up the world
like Atlas we shoulder the globe
now watch us shift the weight
brought down by the people you tried to suppress
this is not some petty expression of vengeance
but the rallying cry of a dream deferred
exploding out to meet your injustice
mark my words
we're taking over the world
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 10:22 AM UTC
The underlings stare
In submissive awestruck
Subjugation in landmine-filled
Landfills, are stuck
In the trenches, the feces
The carcass-strewn muck
Where the vermin-spawn ****
As they're taught how to work
And to fend for themselves
Like the Fall of Dunkirk
As the imminent doomsday device overhead
Incapacitates them
As mere prey to a web
Of a global dominion
Ambition connection
Subconscious hive-mind
Buzzing out the objection
And phobia-spreading
Pandemic misanthropy
Greed in disguise
Subsidizing atrocity
Not for me,
I am
The justified treason
The reason the man-hunters
Close open season
The cease-fire peacekeeper
Proliferation
The water war's rising
Desertification
An MIA runaway
AWOL defector
Still haunting the tombs of detente
Like a spectre
With what I assure
Mutually in the end
When I send go-aheads
On the ICBMs
And avenge the dependent expended
Caught in
This crossfire for-profit
Arms race it has been
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 3:33 AM UTC
Energy radiates and traces my body with celestial tones
I am more alive than I’ve ever been
when surrendering to awe and wonder
the same way my younger self fearlessly did
something about that glimmer hasn’t left yet, may never leave
memories still have flavors to me
mornings with a lake of flakes in my bowl
or years and years later when a fried hangover cure restores me
each month and its esculent flashbacks are a part of me
a cell in the skin
a beaten feather in the wing
something about the glimmer hasn’t left yet
the Earth is still new
and discoveries never expire:
new scenery
new explorations
new chronicles in the cinema
new kindred spirits
new waves of audio
new therapeutic solitudes
all balancing out the
new captivities
new mistakes
new mediocrity
new unhealthy solitudes
and more
until the body is a home base of homeostasis
commensalism at its finest
but something about the glimmer hasn’t left yet, may never leave
I outgrew shadows who doubted their expiration dates
I don’t rubricate the sky in a rage
anymore
don’t let the heartbreak pause a pulse
anymore
don’t let misanthropy obscure who I see
anymore
don’t let uncertainty’s web catch me in a paralysis
anymore
or at least I try
something tells me I’ll never “age out”
of my hunger to live fully
I know deep down you're similar
your craving will not fade into cinders
oh what a feelin!
To be trippin on nostalgia.
Dec 29, 2022
Dec 29, 2022 at 2:17 PM UTC
I need to **** my own brains out.
**** the inside of my thigh
/
If self harm existed,
I'd be the definition. Even as a child.
Epitome.
I was the art of chaos.
Reviled taste in the mouth of structure of humanity.
In the eyes of hurricanes,
death emits it's life from my heart chasm,
a dark laceration that continually deprecates the vision of self and image.
When one revokes such practices,
when one covers such motive to make others happy,
destruction of the dreamer will ensue.
Beyond all of the folly in these steps
We continue this dance macabre in order to destroy the civilized that we see in and around us.
Please take this.
Please ingest it into your ears, and masticate it in the gears teeth of your brain.
Hold heart to hand.
Take a breath.
Hold atrial canals to the rib cage that holds it as a cell that completes your bodice.
If you must seek a destruction. Let it be for self intention.
For self seclusion.
Let it be for your own self imprisonment.
Not the caging of your existence by: a state,
a religion,
a county,
a dogma of any sort,
no to ecology,
no to misanthropy.
"Yay", ye shall say. To self worth.
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 1:44 AM UTC
by Damon G
. glum, morose, surly, sulky, crabbed, saturnine, gloomy mean showing a forbidding or disagreeable mood. sullen implies a silent ill humor and a refusal to be sociable
I'M BECOMING UNWOUND
. glum suggests a silent dispiritedness . morose adds to glum an element of bitterness or misanthropy
I NEED SOMETHING TO HAPPEN
. surly implies gruffness and sullenness of speech or manner
A VIOLENT THING, EVEN
. sulky suggests childish resentment expressed in peevish sullenness . crabbed applies to a forbidding morose harshness of manner
THE CRUSH OF A BREAKDOWN
. saturnine describes a heavy forbidding aspect or suggests a bitter disposition
A REASON TO WANT TO
. gloomy implies a depression in mood making for seeming sullenness or glumness .
GET UP AGAIN
Jun 13, 2010
Jun 13, 2010 at 9:51 PM UTC
count each and every grain i
cherish them all the same
they're the only friends i have
across this endless plane of
granular particles kicked up
every so often by a storm
that shifts this desert from one
spectrum to the next like
filtering time through the sieve
of some infinite hourglass
i will drive this lumbering beast
across theses seas of sand
reclaim what they stole through duplicity
coax this hunk of junk to life
if need be to outrun the
lingering fear of inadequacy
i don't know god but i met the devil
i've been his captive for 7,000 days
a hostage of hellions obsessed
with a decadent religion of misanthropy
the shifting wind-swept dunes
my only markers on this winding road
a roguish rebel defying hegemony
manifest in maleficent misogyny
i'll strive to live not just survive in this
endless wasteland hope may yet arise
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 10:50 AM UTC
First I was born
Then I began to die
(there's no way out)
(and there never was)
Nursing wounds
Gangrene and obscene
Promiscuous and unwanted
I favor the blessing of the Black Mass
Shrouded in the catastrophe of disillusionment
For the first time in my life
I’m disappointed in your crucifixion
And all the reasons you said you did it for
Antagonistic misanthropy in Maplethorpe grays
Humanity cultivated arctic aspirations
First I was born
Then I found a way out
First I was born
(Then I found a way)
(Away from you)
Oct 10, 2011
Oct 10, 2011 at 11:15 AM UTC
I'll wear your coffin with pride
Tattoo my lips with your touch
Burn for the jealousy in your eyes
I'll handle you with this knife
To cut these wrists
I shed my skin peeled away from the bone
Days like this I pull my nerves apart
Grasping for your heart
To feel the beating of misanthropy
We lick the wounds from sapphire cuts
I know what you say
To me
It's like ashes from the sky
I know what you say
To me
It's like teething on denial
I've turned away from the light
You lit the room to bury this tomb
It's fulfilling to crash
We taste the burn on our ribs
Cutting our teeth on the nape of our necks
I can hear your breath on my ear
Suture these lies with rabid tongue
I feel you turn away
This hunger for you growls
Growing sick for your flesh
I know what you say
To me
It's like ashes from the sky
I know what you say
To me
It's like teething on denial
I smile thru your taste
I hold your hand with my teeth
Bitterness, ravenous, aching
Carving into the full moon and
Late night dances at the graveyard
I crave to be near
The edge of your space
To push you away
I know what you say
To me
It's like ashes from the sky
I know what you say
To me
It's like teething on denial
I've felt a change
In me
Its like ashes from the sky
I've felt a change
In you
Its like teething on denial
Jun 9, 2012
Jun 9, 2012 at 7:34 PM UTC
I hear the drums beating a long the ****** city
Hearing only the whispers of strangers
I hear only hear talk of war and misanthropy
Nothing good on the news
Fear and panic is rampant through my mind
The complacent the happy ones hope for the better future
and here I am seeing the evil side of humanity
the apathetic side of humanity
the falseness the false hopes
the ugly truth falls on my head like the mid morning rain
it’s like yesterday my friends withered away
I feel this sense of estrangement for others that i can’t begin to fully understand
it’s like a never ending maze that is making me a blind social outcast
breaking me down to my very foundations
stirring up my inner feelings of anger ,hate ,self destruction
detesting logic for emotional rage that I somehow need to tame
thoughts expectations emotions racing through my ever vulnerable spirit
I gradually become more withdrawn from people as I age
I see sometimes only frauds and selfishness
fates knocking down at my door
is there a bright essence of happiness that I will find a long this peculiar road called life ?
am I meant to fall by the wayside; to serve as warnings to the rest of us; signs posts along the way...... these thoughts are racing in my awakened mind but in vain I’m silent
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 11:36 PM UTC
Pink cherry blossoms fall like shedding tears
Gently caressing the earth as they land.
To me, it's just decay like rotting flesh
Of one once loved. Just bones and putrid smells
Idle conversation falling upon your tongue
As your bright eyes exclaim more than words could.
These words die out soon enough and I
Never cared for the company of beauty;
I am but a misshapen wretch beside you
Oh! Friend, lover, fiend and vagrant - sorry,
But I reject it all. My heart closes
Like a fist and all we were fades like
The stones at the foot of Ramses, devoid
Of what we once were; more ghosts than people.
Snows and skies of laughter slowly diminish,
I replace them with silence and apathy.
Soon I forget what was so funny
Nor do I particularly care.
Aug 16, 2020
Aug 16, 2020 at 10:34 AM UTC
To live without love is death.
To live honestly,
Is to love truly.
Life is a meaningless void.
Dark, dull, and unafraid.
Populous yet lonely,
Blinding yet bleak.
A land of color coexists,
of love that is cautious and daring.
Transcending human comprehension
And the providing hope
along with its audacity.
It’s power and will to thrive
conquers the misanthropy
Of austere death.
Nov 3, 2020
Nov 3, 2020 at 12:07 PM UTC
Buried in crow feathers, the Devils in their eyes & he fed me
misanthropy.
I'm disconnected, as I stare into the blood scarlet sky.
Filled with black splatter paint brushed birds.
One by one dove down to peck at my flesh & take a piece of my wings.
One by one dove down to peck at my bones & take a piece of my limbs.
Wings made of corroding, sweet memories, keep growing back out of misery to feed reality.
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 3:07 AM UTC
Let's do the math, I pay rent to my dad, gave him every cent I had but not without hoarding a ten for a six pack. I got little class and generally tend to disagree with anyone who utters something asinine near me. Clearly I have some issues with not speaking, watching a blue bird struggle against a telephone wire still squeaking, and peaking, I'm in forest eyes leaking, it's intriguing to me how I can't stop freaking out.
So what? So what? I'm stuck in a rut
Spinning my wheels, coveting *****
That lay around at the beach, not giving a flying ****
So what? So what? Am I broken or breaking, I can't stop shaking but my redemption's in the making, yup.
Slow strut and smash, I'm hovering at the end of my cash, can't find the hidden stash in the back of my bus, feeding cats that tear each other up in my shop, trying to fight the urge to lie down but I can't stop making a fool of myself in good health in hopes that I can finally escape the bible belt, but it seems no matter what kind of life you live, that kinda **** never melts away.
So what? So what? I'm stuck in a rut
Spinning my wheels, coveting *****
That lay around at the beach, not giving a flying ****
So what? So what? Am I broken or breaking, I can't stop shaking but my redemption's in the making, yup
Slip back hard smack to the veins or the *** no cash so hopefully she digs my eyes and mustache, how crass. Maybe if I pay the right song I'll write the wrong and she'll be back in my bed before long. I need to stop spending time with people better than me, people who can tolerate ******** and pleasantries, because trust me, unless I'm on ecstasy, everything just ends up sounding like half speech to me. Society has always been hard, I'm only starting to pick the world apart, because I'm finally old enough to know I'm deeply alone, but if anyone asks, I feel like I'm right in my zone. I'm home.
So what? So what? I'm stuck in a rut
Spinning my wheels, coveting *****
That lay around at the beach, not giving a flying ****
So what? So what? Am I broken or breaking, I can't stop shaking but my redemption's in the making, yup
I guess it's gonna be better when I'm inside
I guess it's sort of a miracle that I'm alive
I feel a lot better knowing I have a bed
So why do I still feel I'm better off dead?
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 12:41 PM UTC
To use a quote that encapsulates my feelings right now,
“I'm tired of this back-slappin' "isn't humanity neat" ******** We're a virus with shoes.”
― Bill Hicks
The Poem
Originally I thought I suffered from irritability,
irritability of the human race.
Then I realised whilst looking at my face, it was hate.
I told the Doctor I'd thought of suicide, then realised
I wanted to commit mass homicide.
Become a hermit.
Mankind, womankind I hate you, people think me nice, fair,
and kind, I know the truth, I am a ******* so you must be too.
We as a race need a cull.
Do I like the human race? No. What's to like?
I even dislike people that purport to be friends.
I intricately step my way through this world of vermin.
We defile what is beautiful and true, hate because we
are taught to. Ruin, start wars, cause pain, then moan about the rain!
We as a race are quite crudely put, a pile of ****
but even **** has purpose, a role.
What role do we have? To hate one another?
If so please make it equal and adhere to political correctness,
by that I mean, Hate Everyone equally.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 6:34 PM UTC
There are occasions that call for misdemeanor.
There exist instances of philanthropy in selfishness
i don't have too many good things to say
so i'll just write my little thoughts
on this little paper
and call it a day
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 12:17 AM UTC
Reach out and touch my cheek.
Don't be offended when I turn away.
Take me out to the dark beach for a walk.
I'm not sorry I don't reschedule for another day.
Wrap your arms around me.
Try not to cough as I fall to ashes.
Yell at me and get angry.
Apologize when I bat my sorry lashes.
If you call me beautiful, I'll tell you you're lucky.
I know you won't find someone like me.
And that's what I'm aiming for.
You can tell I'm not right. All I feel is misanthropy.
Broken hearts, broken by me.
But I've been broken too.
It's painful, depressing, you feel ripped to shreds.
So don't act like I can't feel you.
I know the darkest roads that can be travelled in my mind.
They're all paved with memories of your face.
So don't be hurt when I let you suffocate on yourself.
I want to watch you disappear without a trace.
I'm not the bad person, you know.
I'm simply confused and lost.
Is this what you accomplished?
A sense of power. But at what cost?
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 8:10 PM UTC
we have been deceived.
corralled like tepid sheep,
fattened beef
waiting beyond
the doors of the slaughterhouse.
as pigs lick their lips,
a daemon’s death dirge drifts
listless across the
Atlantic, an erratic dichotomy
corroding rationality—
this executive edict
barring refugees.
caught without a compass,
a flotilla of ships weathering
the elements.
for forty days
and forty nights,
we’ve been lead
two-by-two
by elephants
and donkeys.
demagogues commandeered
the lighthouse, directing
our ark across
scattered rocks.
an armada
of shattered splinters,
remnants of water-logged vessels
we’d hoped to sail to utopia.
caught in the webs
we wove, droves
of drones spewing
bombs across Aleppo.
as spittle collects
on spluttering orange lips,
will we
pause
for but a moment?
collect
our thoughts.
reflect.
history is a shattered
mirror and we’ve pricked
our fingers trying
to piece the image
back together.
there’s a hunger
for blood
refracting in our eyes.
a misanthropy
that smarts and stings.
a recalcitrant population
coerced by a television
rhetorician’s clever
devices, devised
to separate and segregate
during this crisis
caused by our missiles.
there is no moral arc
to the universe. hope,
Hedges wrote, is mania
if it remains vapid
and refuses to address
the depravity of our
physical reality.
we’ve already lost.
just ask the children
barely clinging to life,
covered in the debris
of their former homes.
all that’s left for us
is to bash the fascists.
smash every illusory border
in our heads and hearts.
burn down the walls
they try to build
around us.
overturn the tables
of the oligarchs,
stuff Molotov cocktails
down their bloated throats.
open revolt is our only hope.
we’ll build a sanctuary
in this City Beautiful.
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 10:12 PM UTC