"moralistic" poems
The dictatorship of our state is profound in its mass propaganda, where the discernment of individuals seeps into an eternal chasm of self-sacrifice on the altar of political conformity.
Let us actively withstand the passivity of our conventional hypocrisy as we engage with this ontological sleepwalk through sinister passageways of presumed social advancement.
In our age of grandiose moralistic eclecticism where imperatives abound, I burn incense and contemplate the cosmopolitan artificiality which lavishes abundant gifts upon our self-opinion.
Criminality is the result of discovery.
So, oh thorn in my flesh, cover those rancid corpses by the veil of popularity, gain and pleasure.
Subconscious social conditioning is the scourge of lustful appearance, don’t you think?
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
Are acceptance and approval synonymous terms? It is important that we give adequate definition to that which blocks our winding garden path, where foxgloves, lupins and a multitude of botanical dreams can blossom into a gorgeous array of ****** captivation.
If we embrace that which is repugnant, then possibility may not be confined to the cradling arms of the mistress of death.
So, my judgmental and moralistic companion from the sands of Jupiter – if your daughter is a raunchy stripper, then keep your expectations on the leash and preserve your anthropological connectedness, otherwise you may veer into prickly thorns of certain detriment and thereby lose her attachments.
It is incumbent upon us to nourish those fragrant plantations with a careful approach, so that beautiful reproductions will abound in a bouquet of resolution.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 12:23 AM UTC
(the tics will talk 'til twelve o'clock)
When we make time,
When we listen:
The theistic preach deistic talk;
The atheistic preach pragmatic talk;
The agnostic preach proleptic talk;
The heretic preach shismatic talk;
The mystic preach prophetic talk.
(the mesianic and satanic never stop)
When we have time;
Then we listen:
The optimistic teach hypnotic talk;
The pessimistic teach sarcastic talk;
The altruistic teach empathetic talk;
The idealistic teach synergistic talk;
The pacifistic teach semantic talk;
The body politic teach charismatic talk;
The technocratic teach robotic talk;
The romantic teach poetic talk;
The critic teach cathartic talk;
The moralistic teach dualistic talk;
The ascetic teach platonic talk.
(the artist would rather not talk)
When we find time,
Do we listen:
The lunatic speak quizzotic talk;
The neurotic speak pathetic talk;
The chauvanistic speak monistic talk;
The nihilistic speak ballistic talk;
The hedonist speak narcissistic talk;
The futuristic speak galactic talk.
(the minimalist hasn't the time to talk)
Just don't.
Look.
Some tic reset the clock.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 12:15 AM UTC
A little guilt goes a long way
Even the sturdiest oak can be made to sway
Figments of people duped by atavistic views
Waking up from bouts of fervor
A most sadistic snooze
They repose like overgrown fountains of youth
Their dreams rusted, forgotten and that’s the truth
In a lonely forest, oaks fall with the loudest screams
A somberness aided by clouds and defective sun beams
My soul has finally given in to moralistic cracks
For now it’s about as clean as mud pies and tire tracks
I’m wobbling down my lifetime from crutch to crutch
Wondering when to finally whisper **** I’ve seen too much”
So please, return me home, send my spirit way down below
To lands of rusted dreams and toss-turned pillows
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 4:23 PM UTC
i sense a bitter person
twisted by life's fate
rather call it passion
instead of woeful hate
life is like a soda bottle
shaken with compression
bathsheba has released some gas
thro poetical expression
moralistic fibres
unafraid to speak
troubled past endured
made her strong not weak
also sense connection
you, myself, and jack
we have found a way in life
to get **** off our back
might be totally wrong, but it's my impression. please let me know
Mar 6, 2010
Mar 6, 2010 at 11:34 PM UTC
i don't believe in the hypocritical moralistic dogma of this so-called civilized society
everyone is finicky, demanding, and ignorant, like society runs on their selfish need
humanity is unhealthy, diseased, deceived by the smoke and mirrors of propriety
starving poets living off their art, starving celebrities living off their titanic sized greed
and people wonder why we have criminals who will do anything to get away with crime
if everyone saw the real side of people, trust would be another delusional superstition
guilt is like spiders crawling onto your naked skin and onto your famished spine
some people believe they are the bricks to rebuild a home with ammunition
we are force fed trust in these strangers in a extremely vulnerable habitat
like a bird's feathers clipped off, we are unable to fly, unable to breathe
like an army without weapons, we are unprepared for the sudden combat
like a witches cauldron, the brain's contents bubble and seethe
-kra
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 1:31 AM UTC
Oh,
The places I have gone,
Into the gutter onto the street,
Regurgitated,
Every fiber,
Of my uneven being,
A little yin,
A lot of yang,
And the realization,
Of the cost of "freedom",
Is security,
And the lies swept under the rug,
Therein.
Where do I go?
In this world I do not fit within,
It suits me not,
Too corporeal, too moralistic,
Too judging, and a little bit too thin.
Always finding reasons,
To opress other human beings,
Even in democracy,
The masses lurk,
Judging, what is good men.
The young are chained,
Binded by systems and laws,
Signed to social contracts,
They didnt ask for,
and most will never understand.
All in the great,
revolutionary idea!
Oh, yes, as they will tell you with a smile,
You can be anything you want to be!
(If you get a 4.0)
You can love freely!
(Except gays and underaged)
And women let me tell you,
Yes how to get an abortion,
And when!
Always distinguishing,
Classifying people,
Alpha and beta,
And whatever else in bygone alphabets,
We are social animals,
Civilized only in lies.
And all men are not created equal!
Some are born to die.
We laugh in the face of this evil,
Because we cannot control our own existence,
And the only other option is to cry,
And self annihilate.
Of course, to the world,
This is so very wrong.
Such a crazy guy.
There is no freedom I say.
Only the mirror image,
The perception of such,
We make our own choices,
Sure,
Pre ordained by our genetics,
Our expereinces, our cultures,
The boxes of our very thoughts,
Ergo the very essence of who we are,
For if we were different,
We would go left,
And not right,
into the very clutches of Satan,
The demons men swear by.
I've got nothing nice to say,
Or contribute to society,
So I oft think,
I'd best stay silent,
And censure myself away,
I hurt my friends,
My family my loved ones,
And add onto the suffering list,
Still knowing the worst I got,
is better than a lot of men.
So, alas,
Mi amore,
I have a lie to say,
If you but love me,
Oh just one night,
I will love you,
Forevermore.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 9:12 AM UTC
Time to stop judging
Best to confess
Hiding behind your SOS
Feelings of others you ignore
Drama and chaos you adore
With your moralistic writes
Acerbic word fights
Sarcastic bites...
Why can't you be nice?
Instead, you play the part fully
As the intellectual bully
Disregarding the tears
Throwing misspelled word spears
Wielding grammar hammers
Pouncing when someone stammers
Hey, Bro! Don't you even know
What time it is?
Time to stop judging
Best to confess
Hiding behind your SOS
Feelings of others you ignore
Drama and chaos you adore
With your moralistic writes
Acerbic word fights
Sarcastic bites...
Why can't you be nice?
You say you're a godly player
But you're really a Sibboleth slayer,
An ill will conveyor,
Grand total naysayer,
Once you went away but then came back
Unbelievable, you're even more whack!
Hey, Bro! Don't you really know
What time it is?
Time to stop judging
Best to confess
Hiding behind your SOS
Feelings of others you ignore
Drama and chaos you adore
With your moralistic writes
Acerbic word fights
Sarcastic bites...
Why can't you be nice?
TONEY OUT - BOOM!
Nov 7, 2019
Nov 7, 2019 at 11:21 AM UTC
My words are out of disbelief
When I say what's going on
Why are we killing so much anymore
We use to be civilized
Now We Are Just Barbaric In Our Traits And Quest For **********
Call me what you will, say what you want.
All I want is all this killing to stop
All This blame To end
All the fingers to go in for of a wave, or handshake,
Instead if a judge mental pointing
Two wrongs do not make a right
Killing humans, is not a lesson we need to teach our children
There Is No Understanding In A World Of greed.
And no room for improving our future with in moralistic judgements and fear based thoughts.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 2:30 PM UTC
There is more to be considered than the left or right, or even the right or wrong.
Your moralistic judgments are subjective and often reflect some societal objective.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 12:27 AM UTC
The most judgmental people we find in church.
Sermonizing about our moralistic ways.
Similar to politicians trying to pass laws about anything.
From government to other division.
We learn about rules, regulation and protocol.
That suppose to govern us.
And our moralistic ways.
Then you notice various things.
The judge that's cheating.
The police officer that's creeping.
The soldier that's being a dishonor to their platoon.
The lies of politicians.
Who lies ans lies multiple times.
But gets elected over and over several times.
Matthew seven and seven speaks loudly with truth.
Judge not, that you be not judged.
For soon you be measured by that opinion.
We get down on the poor.
We get down on those rich.
We speak out on injustice.
And criticize the mother will multiple children.
Until we faced with facts about our moralistic ways.
Which confront us daily by looking in the mirror to face truth.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 8:52 AM UTC
I've never seen any rose the same way;
a forgotten Dionysian frenzy changed
that love-symbol into something "deranged",
at least in moralistic terms today.
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 3:36 PM UTC
There it was, the brightest light,
Scrambled towards it, my very first sight,
From there I was taken to my home,
There I learned I would never be alone,
Then came the plaid, the prayers and saints,
There I learned all my moralistic restraints,
Brush your teeth. Don't dye your hair.
Be careful how you speak and what you wear.
Never let a man use you for any pleasure.
Keep it locked up. It's marriages' treasure.
But GOD forbid you should ever fight back,
When they slap your *** and grab your rack,
Just brush their hand a way and cover up some,
Ignore the anger that renders you numb,
Keep it in and never say a word,
Women are better if never heard,
And so I kept my mouth sewed shut,
Held every memory in every useless cut,
That left the scars that haunted rebellious years,
And led me to trust strangers with my deepest fears,
I must have been born with some impure spirit,
To endure the evils these men are permit,
For innocence was interrupted so early on,
Stolen while waking up for a hazy dawn.
It was over and done so I moved forward,
I broke every rule written on the chalkboard,
Nothing was real and no one was true,
That was until I finally met you,
And the world is as it first was,
I smile now like every other girl does,
Even when you aren't here with me,
I still feel the love inside dancing free.
But once again all is interrupted,
Resurfacing any emotion I ever hid,
This time was worse, almost brutal,
I struggled but my efforts proved futile,
I am pained with remorse and endless guilt,
I let him break down all that we built.
Now every moment of ever day,
That horror repeats in my mind on replay,
And I scream inside every time we talk,
But my voice's value is under my tongue's lock,
Keeping it safe in my vocal vault,
In fear that this truly was my fault.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 7:09 PM UTC
When feeling down, depressed, detached, isolated, or lonely, don’t forget everything you’re already a part of. Your family, your community, your country, the broader population of all humanity. Even if all of them leave you with a sense that you don’t belong, that you have no value, and that you are not worthy, remember that you’re not the first, nor the only, nor the last made to feel this suffering. Close your eyes for a moment, take a few deep breaths, and remember all that you do not see. Remember the all-pervading interdependence that weaves between all things. Remember the universe did not make an exception when bringing you to be, and you share an interconnected existence, same as everyone and everything. Remember that you are worthy and of value in the architecture of the universe and no one has the right nor the power to take that from you, not even you, and this is true, absolute, and forever it will be. Find yourself by knowing, feeling, observing, the others who smile in silent disdain, who wake up aching in their cores, rising to meet another day. Find yourself in those that have yet to come, for those that have yet to break, yet to despair. For it is there you’ll find yourself, in a place, in a time, preceded by all that is the past, amidst all that is current, so that you may find a way to ride the wave into the future and vibrate vibrantly for eternity. Find yourself in human history, the rise and fall of human societies, the historical human afflicted atrocities. Find yourself in the grand and universal architecture, for you are there, close your eyes, breath deeply, and may you see. May you find your strength, your will, your courage and let your heart be still. May you find it in yourself to take that torch, handed to you by those who battled doubt, were ostracized, those who before you, found a way out, to idealize, who against the darkened odds, kept on seeking better and brighter days. They’re waiting for you, but wish to see you flourish before you join them to perch upon eternity. Sometimes all they did was endure, and maintain dignity and grace. Or simply made attempts to change what many around them thought was just the way it would always be, who simply dreamed what those around them could not imagine, the ones who thought of you, who had yet to be, and your place in this universal scheme. Who found themselves in you and their hopes for all that you could be, who found themselves and let themselves believe. May you find yourself assured that simply being you is all you have to be and that it is okay, it is enough, and the universe will see. May you help carry forward the human legacy and bring forth humanity into a moralistic and heartfelt harmony.
Dec 30, 2019
Dec 30, 2019 at 11:55 PM UTC
This ceremonial façade is likened to an ancient folklore which has been dipped in forbidden secretions, even though my arts are sincerely darkened to unfathomable depths of surprised and ambidextrous naiveté.
I have constructed the choreography of this metaphysical dance, which lingers on the brink of sociological pronunciations, and where the liberty of gargoyles spew their fluid projections from lofty heights across the four directions of our moralistic city walls, where magnetised needles ***** my soul with the earth-shattering clarification of true north.
I love to sit in the dark and to be enlightened, as the eerie silence bellows her validity across trans-national sanctions, where the fallacy of liberation is juxtaposed with a socio-political and fetishistic confinement.
I believe that classical infidelity is like a beautiful Gothic cathedral where silent rage has an ebb and flow which is not easily ascertained amongst our sub-cultural and contemporary cohorts, where dynamic equilibrium truly encapsulates the co-existence of opposites, which are said to attract.
So, as we gather in the menacing serenity of the dark forests, where geography marks her ancient alignments from sunrise to sunset; can we now pray and give homage to the spirits of history, in this underground finesse of paradoxical equilibrium?
I love democracy, as she gyrates her sensual community wantonness on this conveyer belt, where the vital functions of our organism slink into sleepy cessations of universal structures where causality releases her excitatory expressions of organic physiology.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 3:05 AM UTC
Lord,
God of many names
I come as a pagan
So that the right One
Might hear my moans....
You are not a God that is either
Republican or Democrat,
You are partisan and unheeding
To their propaganda,
You do not need the popular vote,
Nor do you speak lies in speeches.
About the monsters You left in charge....
They speak sweet nothings in Your name
While they rush to cameras when
A thousand die.
They secretly take in the money
For the poor and raise funds
For their bunkers when the
Day of Reckoning comes.
With their atomic know how
And the fear mongering tactics,
Tney seek to rule me imperialistic,
They seek to destroy me moralistic.
Will you deliver me from their policies,
Save me from their budget cuts,
Confuse their sinister programs?
When the day of final Judgement comes,
Send me an Angel,
Be my refuge from the socialist control,
Keep me safe from their propaganda
Mind alterating political promises,
Save me from their campaign commercials,
Keep those who seek You
Under your safety and
Bullet proof vests.
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
Her husband failed
to give her this, this
embrace, this kiss.
Her lover, this other
woman, this one whom
she could explore, wrap
herself in, tongue, lick,
smell, was suddenly
revealed to her, at a party
of her husband’s, some
big do, some work related,
job promotion hogwash.
She almost dissolves in
this female warmth, this
female smell, this soft
flesh thing she has known,
yet misunderstood for so
long. Her husband’s ******
predatorial ways are over,
he can go find some other,
go to some girl at the office,
some **** he secretly (so he
thought) had bought. She
feels born again, as if erupted
from the womb a second
time, mouthed a fresh cry,
suckled at new ******* and
likewise the other hers, too.
What would people say has
long since ceased to matter,
love’s intensity blows out
candles of such, puts far from
reach the narrow minded tongues,
the moralistic finger pointers.
They sleep together, eyes closed,
bodies wrapped about each the
other, dreams take on a new edge,
other shades and tones, nothing
of the old life, just this woman to
woman thing and loving moans.
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 4:23 AM UTC
Here's the thing.
I like boys.
But
I love girls.
It's a moralistic tragedy
but I can't tell whose morals
are telling me what's right.
It's not about what's right, let's
talk about what's wrong. 7 years ago
When that boy shoved me backwards.
When he thought I didn't have a choice.
I have a choice.
Don't tell me my choice is wrong.
Because Her hair falls in her face like
the dripping branches of my sycamore
after a long night's storm.
People say she's not delicate,
rough around the edges, if you will,
but when I hold her head in my lap
and run my fingers through her hair
it's like that same rain is washing away
every rough edge of the bark on her skin.
Her skin--feels like--with her hands on mine
the world might just implode on itself
from the sheer beauty of such
living
glorious
sin.
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 8:09 PM UTC
This so-called-life ceased to make sense
All logic in the matter shall be said in past tense
For all the trivial **** is too much for us to cleanse
´Tis the word for you to repeat. Now let´s commence
Moral stands the ground for incongruence
Dinner etiquette and animalistic behavior
All that profound nothing and violence
Then again we read the words of our savior
Acting as if there´s a script. Open yourself to frustration
Act accordingly and don´t get caught, or else there´s alienation
Don’t act as if there´s an after-death salvation
It is in this world, think for yourself and become a one-man´s nation
Moralistic turnouts of ****** who now embezzle into the game of society
As ridiculous as a drunk reminiscing of past days now living in sobriety
People change but hear me out, try and change a story
All you animals have your release in snobbism and never forgo its glory
Open to death old corsairs accept their fate
For they have always lived by the eternal gate
And those who portrayed falsely faith and religion
Must now rage inwards as they see the oblivion.
Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 10:32 AM UTC
men
(white men)
(a few women)
(white women)
- oh my -
sit atop this teetering thing
called
america
called
freedom
called
(democracy)
- oh my -
blind in their mirror
of privilege
of history
of status
(of reality)
- oh my -
they
turn no cheek and cast
an ignorant bitter stone
"they take your jobs"
"they hate our freedoms"
"they are manipulators,
lairs,
murderers,
rapists,
extremists"
(terrorists)
- oh my -
all are equated,
summed into a
logarithm of
shallow truth
"Make America Great Again"
what of the west's,
of america's
variables to this equation?
economic hegemony?
no variable
no matter
no history
no reason
assassinated leaders?
no variable
no matter
no history
no reason
moralistic edicts of right and wrong?
no variable
no matter
no history
no reason
policies to extract foreign resources and wealth?
no variable
no matter
no history
no reason
- oh my -
was it not john
a disciple of jesus
the son of god
a god
who blesses america
who said
"If anyone says, 'I love God,' and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen."
was it not paul
the apostle of jesus
the son of god
a god
who blesses america
who said
"Do you suppose, O man—you who judge those who practice such things and yet do them yourself—that you will escape the judgment of God? Or do you presume on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God's kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?"
- oh my -
hypocrisy is an acidic suicidal pill
your brother is cast in the likeness of
god
like you
a
human
a being of
fault of
merit of
sin of
good of
tribulation of
suffering of
worth
fear is an old testament to retribution
love is a new testament to reconciliation
america is the new world
(not the old)
- oh my -
Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 5:07 AM UTC
I walk the land of my fathers
Which is the land of the dead.
They are dead in this land,
They are not alive nor do they speak.
And then I see the ashes of cigarettes
Flying in the air
And smoke from my lungs
Exhale any destiny.
Do I live for them now?
To live as an example for dead men?
Shall I make a world they do not see,
A destiny set forth by corpses?
If I should not need a reason to live,
But to define myself based on
A man's lost wishes for the son
To fulfill his unfulfilling dream,
Then I shall erase all heritage
And find some other destiny.
Even the living,
Those whom I know to leave me
Behind and turn away like a memory,
And if they looked at me truly
Would not recognize me,
Would I base my reasons to validate
My existing the way I choose?
Perhaps if I carried my gun
Like some madman's projection
Waiting for the justice to take me down?
Even more so,
The men who carry guns with a justified
Perception and rake
Killing fields,
Would this bring ultimately the truth
Behind an existence of self?
No. The sad fact is that humanity
Does not have enough humanity
In consciousness to redeem history.
Maybe if all would become idealistically
Precise in a view of moralistic richness?
Change the course of men and women,
Change the animal inside us?
But this is our battle,
The battle itself - again-
We come to the struggle based on
The concept of ethical standards set
Forth by dead men and women.
So then, after this,
Do we put God at the front of
Our malice, change what we
All have done in the silence?
Don't feel so special,
Don't feel sk miserable,
Cry a thousand times and smile
At the moments rarely recognised,
Its all the same, you and me
And them and everybody.
We are here now,
Superfluousness nature and emotional
Animalistic definitions of a raindrop
In time.
No one is here,
Only in your perception,
Which by all accounts
Is as needy as mine.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 8:42 PM UTC
Dear Mr. One-In-A-Billion
I'm one of the billion
trying to get some of your billions
but I'm just part of the sum of your billions.
I'm the one in your pocket
with only ones in my pocket
avoiding guns and rockets
that came from your pocket.
You keep a gun to my head
by putting guns in my head
with the guns you have led
bringing guns to a head.
I became your captive
you're a velocicaptor commercial raptor
with a manner didactic
to mandate moralistic methods of capture.
When I ask you to stop
I'm thwarted by cops
when I ask you to go
I'm thwarted by no's.
You tell us to fly when you know that we're hurt
you say it's the sky when we know that it's dirt
you give us a tie when all we have is a shirt
until the day we die and no longer have worth.
You providers provide
petite provisions
then dastardly deride
demographic divisions
parading pride
parroting patriotism
but the parrots died
during the schism.
You don't trust me because of my bank account
I don't trust you because of your body count
you don't care because your banks can't be counted
I care too much because every body counts.
Monopoly is a boar's game
the banker controls the board
the banker determines the gored
and property determines the score.
For equality we must equalize our equity
and make austerity analogous to antiquity
allowing annihilation of our antipathies
so we can delete deficit driving deficiencies.
We need charity baked into the system
so parity will be caked onto our vision
so we can stop worrying about cheddar
and give our cheese to the beggars
but you're the only baker around
with a shop full of dough
that you throw into the oven
to feed us sugarcoated lies.
Please stop feeding us tryptophan
through avenues like Instagram
or other similar brands
infecting culture with a businessman
until we're business ******
except for a select few
one of whom is you
and your billionaire brood.
Jul 23, 2023
Jul 23, 2023 at 6:46 PM UTC