"nonentity" poems
What if they had a War and nobody came !
my sentiment all along
Actions so transparent and telegraphed a mile long
absurd anchoring, even more absurd triggering
so absurd as to be meaningless
the hotchpotch logic of simpletons on acid
The banal manifestations of the anodyne retards with advanced hysteria
Think unruly kids on Colombian marching powder
think advanced psychosis with total stage ten delusions
Watch mass hysteria contagion
Logic was never there, rationality bolted beating Usain Bolt
Inveterate liars and fantasists now control maddened throngs
Oh dear! they decided I am madly in love with acquaintance
neither I or poor acquaintance know this
But let not the truth get in the way of a soap opera by the insanes
After All meaningless triggers and Delusionary prompts
keep the sheeples busy in People's Power utopia
They are all having a war, nobody has told me about it
I don't understand their language yet they are very eloquent
Deep in their imagined Neuro-linguistic Programming or mental pygmies playing Pavlov Dog theory of the semi-illiterates
I just realized why cancer is prevalent amongst them
They carry so much poison and emotional ******* in their beings
It pollutes and eat away at them internally, they get cancer!
Never have been interested in little minds and liars and thieves
Have little time for dumb people, the toxics and the sheeples
What makes cretins think I take anything of theirs to mind
what can I learn or gain from contemptibles
I don't feel inferior so why would I want to learn
how to slander and defame others to bring them down
'Slander is the GREAT LEVELLER voiced one of them
poor inadequate soul, poor pathetic degenerate
I look twenty years younger than my years, no wrinkles
Just slightly greying, mind as sharp as razor
Because I don't carry acidic ******* hate or foul nonsense
in my head,
Because my mind is full of worthy knowledge
because I am not an ignoramus with attitude
because I am not a shameless coward or an empty headed nonentity
Because I am not amongst the madding crowd
I am not an insignificant pointless HATER with cancer in waiting!
I am NOT a SHAMELESS RACIST white THIEF discrediting the
Victim I STOLE from
OR
an OBNOXIOUS gang of SOCIALIST crazed subhumans cancerized
by jealousy and envy
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 4:47 PM UTC
Ware, nor of good nor ill, what aim hath act?
Without its ****** death, what savour hath
Life? an impeccable machine, exact
He paces an inane and pointless path
To glut brute appetites, his sole content
How tedious were he fit to comprehend
Himself! More, this our noble element
Of fire in nature, love in spirit, unkenned
Life hath no spring, no axle, and no end.
His body a bloody-ruby radiant
With noble passion, sun-souled Lucifer
Swept through the dawn colossal, swift aslant
On Eden's imbecile perimeter.
He blessed nonentity with every curse
And spiced with sorrow the dull soul of sense,
Breathed life into the sterile universe,
With Love and Knowledge drove out innocence
The Key of Joy is disobedience.
3.7k
(Early Mornings)
It is 4:10 AM
Here i am, facing you...
Haven't showered...haven't brushed...haven't gurgled
Too early to look...but, i could not resist seeing
This person with disheveled hair
Eyes are not too willing to open
Avoiding the uncertainty surfacing...slowly but surely
Making itself known, this morning so early...
An empty shell, is what i could see
A looming nonentity...
No coffee yet, but, the eyes already speak
You don't answer, your looks are so bleak
That is how you tell me i am stubborn
But i've been this way since birth...so torn
You tell me, i am just in denial
In front of you, it is like, i am on trial
But, i am just a mortal
Maybe we are both tired
How can we ever go back to being inspired?
Maybe you'd rather shatter into pieces...like i would,
I'd carefully gather your shards...would you gather mine, if you could?
Now, later, tonight, tomorrow...we always face each other
There are days, when i look at you, you make me smile, i feel better!
But, most times, i hate the reflections, they make me glare
And i so despise the thoughts that ensue...i counter your stare
..... I close my eyes, with a plea,
A blink could not erase, the images that i see..
I have never wanted separation
And yet, Fate brought me here, in isolation
You're my silent pal...my silent witness
You say nothing when i become senseless
I leave you in the morning
I come home from work in the evening
And i find you still here... on this wall
Welcoming me home...where i just sit, or stall
Faint jazzy sounds comfort me
A few hours rest...late at night...i sleep...i am free
Then, again, the alarm ruins the stillness of the moment
Robs the dawn of its precious silence
And i rise...to drown anew in despondency...in self pity,
Or is this lunacy?
All i see is gray...and black
Be it dawn...or dusk.
If ever i surrender
I'd be swamped with the stark truth, the reflections you offer
...this can't be a facade,
...in front of you, it's just too bad
I am
U n m a s k e d...
....I am weak, powerless...i crawl
Over and over, i struggle not to fall,
Over and over, i look at you... but, just the same..i fall.
(January 22, 2015)
Sally
Copyright May 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 5:29 PM UTC
While tufts of gloom engulfing the sky,
With no space and time between
Us, you and I,
soak ourselves in the stationary delight.
Like a hypersensitive scheme,
Yet an irreconcilable vibe,
You smoke, and I sigh.
While others argue to be or not to be,
You and I, standing in front of Robert Frost’s fork
—to smoke or sigh
Without hesitation,
You choose to hold a cigar in hand,
I choose to release an unknown in mind,
And sigh.
We then, ask each other why
You say, if you ever woke up in evisceration,
You would quit smoking
I say, if I ever woke up in nonentity,
I would stop sighing
Basking in the glow of flickers,
Inhaling the essence of meteoric laughters,
We look into each other’s assuring eyes
—I respect your choice,
as much as you respect mine.
Palpably, we’ve educed a compromise
It’s neither you smoke, nor I sigh.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 5:11 AM UTC
Sit in stillness
Allow the unrest
Of idleness
Contour the shape
Of nonentity
Soon you’ll hear
A loud ringing
Within your ear
The same noise
Howling staunch
Before you sleep
The same sound blaring
As the world stagnates
And time loiters
And sorrow seeps up from the rug
I don’t think you realize
You will never see him again
As long as you live
For now he is a tall tale
Retold to offspring
A distant memory
A mythic architect
Nothing in the past has ever occurred
There is only now
And now
There is only the wind
And the world moves on
And time resumes clockwise
And his ashes are spread about the sea
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 7:40 PM UTC
Starred at her like she was a virtual machine,
Like I was working with rhymes and stanzas,
She stood there unseeing and overlooking,
I didn't know I liked her until she fell into my view,
My existence never touched her sight,
Since I saw her today,
I'm in hopes of being what she dreams about.
At least she exists in mine heart.
She provoked my heart to senses unknown to me,
Now she walked away without even saying "Hi",
I felt so nonentity,
She left I so recluse and dying.
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 9:56 AM UTC
Fallen words roll steadily of his tongue,
as he sings and swings upon the strings
of a love song that is about to be sung.
But before this song begins, let me remained you,
it is foiled by the sins of useless hearts,
breaking the strings of the violins
that once seemed so pure and clear.
When will you realise, that love like politics
is nothing but a front.
So forget the conspiracies, tear up the theories
of sonnets, both old and young,
and ones that are yet to be sung.
Because that smile, that you think emulates the sun
and creates emotions of fun, right from day one.
Is a nonentity.
With a slightly snarled pursed lip
Pursuing sweet nothing, yet your heart stays eclipsed
and you lean in to kiss.
Then 10 months down the line, you here a chime
you open your eyes, she’s gone, you’re out of time,
and finally you realise,
Love is like politics, it’s nothing but a front.
Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 5:57 AM UTC
Absence of nothing
Full of everything
Who I supposed to be
While I´m writing here
Absence of pain as a joy
Trading on ambiguity
Absence of a nonentity
Still a proper entity
Absence of darkness as a light
Darkness or absence insight
(Un)consciousness always fight
Nonexistence invites
Absence of existence as a non-existence
Unicorns don't exist
A square circle essence
Dangerous mental twist
Absence of unreality as a reality
Into an absolute nothingness
In any universe timeline
An insane tragedy
Absence of demolition as a building
Existence is not a negation of negatives
Feeling absolutely nothing
Sharing words as a sedative
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 12:02 AM UTC
mediocrity isn’t
something to be strived for
and being a nonentity isn’t
a relief of pressure
it’s heavier than any weight
that could be strapped to your back,
larger than any expectations
you delude yourself into thinking you must meet
emptiness fills
more than you would think
your feeble body on the ground
stirs no pity in me
i hope the steel-toed boots
striking you from every direction
leave bruises that last
i hope the stench of your rotting flesh
gags you and brings up the lack
of what you hold inside
i hope old scabs are ripped open again
and your hands lay weak by your side
unable to stop the flow of blood
let me hear you say that you are nothing,
that you have nothing valuable to offer
let me hear you say that you are a waste of space,
an unwanted burden
let me hear you cry and plead for an end,
although you don’t deserve that escape
i want to hear you say that you’re a murderer
i want you to go back:
look into his eyes
watch them dilate with fear
and then see the light leave them
feel his blood on your hands
leaving a permanent mark
that doesn’t wash off under water
feel his body turn cold
as the life inside him stops
with his heartbeat
your sniveling apologies do nothing
but turn my stomach over
don’t touch me,
i don’t care if the blood is gone
being a nonentity isn’t
a relief of pressure
i hope you never get away
from that weight
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 6:36 PM UTC
Singe the bellowing esteem of nonentity:
The thumper of a silhouette.
In your deed you sink down,
From the dangling second of hate.
The more you have been, the less you were;
Hues of a figure,
That crawls behind your back.
The more you got, the less you had,
As the evanescence smothered the moment to death.
From a crack of noise, the light slithers through,
Don't shed a voice, for a silhouette it hums to.
Solace of shade outlined upon the dust,
As the pavements merge into the crowds,
Dont shed a voice for it passes on through; With a crack of noise, the ache breaks in two.
As the moments pass, a lullaby inebriates the silhouette,
From those moments on, hues of a figure sleeps behind your back.
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 7:49 AM UTC
Sara L Russell
Bright colours in a pool of crystal clarity
reflecting all the spectrum of our days
slip down into a quagmire of nonentity
with nothing left to sully or erase.
This cold disease that strips a man of human soul,
is worst of all the ravages of time;
behold those eyes, devoid of everything you stole,
yet blissfully unknowing of your crime.
This bright man, worn away to barest minimum,
this one-time writer and great raconteur,
this poet - will not travel to Byzantium;
his world is fading to a senseless blur.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
*There'll come days when you'll have nothing to write
and trust me even that nothing will be enough
you'll try to embrace the hollow of deficiency
but choke in the dark fumes of attempting to put up a fight
against the void whilst you search for your efficiency
you will scratch your mind for just a word but in vain
shake you will the trees and nothing will fall,it will pain
no single leaf will, not even a dry little twig
you'll wander all over the gardens of creativity
but find no soft alluviums,not a single spot to dig
it will feel an unfair election that fate is going to rig
yet your petition will yield no fruit, not an apple,nor a fig
your fingers will itch worse than infestation by a jigger
with the enema of motivation present but meagre
you'll miss the days whence it rained rhymes
oh! how much you'll long for those flooding times
like a pauper loitering the streets hopelessly thirsty for dimes
and the bells of your emotions will ring melancholic chimes
as you remember that sweet piece that got many hailing your prowess
and like a snail, return will your abilities in
an unbearable wait, call it a steady progress
you will be an active volcano whose vent's blocked from within
forced to abide by the nonentity blank of where to begin
unlike the usual floret and bombastic sweet nothings
you'll draw the fly speck in ink of unclear etchings
to give definition to the infinity of your nullity
and the insubstantiality of the ink sprayed
will be tattered clothes that patch your mental ******
you won't be satiated, but you'll survive the monsters of obsession that hide
in the furthest corners of your psychomotor, deep inside
and you'll appreciate the philosophy, sometimes obstacle's the path
for the scratch and naught from your struggle'll bear worth
so never take shelter under the sunless tree of the writers block
the wave of emotions poets command can break any stumbling block*
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 2:22 PM UTC
Sunlight rushed on your talons
as receding seawater...
the sand quickened black...
fine tuning stars.
Over-majesty...horizon's
scream vowed to silence,
~High on Light~
your crazy outburst of flight.
Weighing on air--
blank with groundless view...
spirit-sifted.
Solitary to the degree of
divine feedback...
moment to motion....
motion to moment,
perfectly still and air born.
A pounding and liberating
heart thousands of
feet above...
for below.
Feathers refined by fires
too dear to see...
more akin to what experience
Knows of itself.
Entire languages contained
in mere words...
that seem to be unsaid
in the saying.
You're the White bedside
vigil of life to death.
The Narrow Way
narrowed to nonentity...
till nothing was in vain,
and such became Suchness.
Love's love of being gave
your being...
as simply and fully.
Ashes to ashes, you fell
from a wayward sky...
a wiry Cruciform trembled
beside you as if on a
projection screen.
Perhaps to symbolize
you could go on forever flying...
or close your eyes and go on
forever in the here and now.
You are the stuff of dreams...
as I Am...
I don't know what else to call
you, but Eagle-man...
may you sleep deeper
than sleep
upon a purple
cloud.
*Based on a being I saw in a dream years ago...I tried to
put the being's essence into words.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 12:21 AM UTC
I'm young with no identity,
A faceless boy, alone and shy.
To classmates, a nonentity;
My parents fret and wonder why.
I'm part of the unnoticed pack.
I step aside as others pass.
To be alone, I sit in back
And never volunteer in class.
From social scenes, I disengage,
Avoiding bullies' taunts and laughs.
I cannot dance or speak on stage,
And hate to pose for photographs.
I tend to blush and shrink from hugs
And ***** jokes embarrass me.
I'm scared to try if offered drugs.
At lunch, I have no company.
I dread the days we swim at school
And shower with the other boys.
I try, but nothing 'bout me's cool.
I lack both confidence and poise.
I'm frightened by the internet
Where vicious rumors often spread.
And mockery's a constant threat
While thoughts of vengeance fill my head.
The girls and jocks just walk on by.
They're unaware that I exist.
No welcome wave nor friendly, "Hi."
I'm seventeen and not been kissed.
The popular comprise a clique
Where bolder boys have fun and flirt.
Among my peers, I'm seen as weak,
And girls avoid an introvert.
The meek inherit all the earth.
That's what the Bible verse asserts.
But while alive, we've little worth.
We're targets for disdain and hurts.
Tomorrow's graduation day.
The high school torment will have passed.
When college life gets underway,
I hope for friends and peace at last.
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 6:20 AM UTC
Two years in recovery;
Emotions disregarded.
While antibodies made homes
I created something new inside.
Have I forgotten how to feel?
Three years in secrecy;
I lived in ignorance
While whispers lie caught in webs
I discovered something new to hide.
Choosing nonentity.
A heart that is void.
Backwards living, Forward talking,
Influenced by all that is around
To grasp the idea of truth.
There is far more to all of this
Than memories, and words.
May 29, 2010
May 29, 2010 at 11:59 AM UTC
the women in my family always have answers they don’t know how to pause wonder me and nobody meet today she walks funny strange we glance smile giggle i am captivated ask for her number she gives it to me i wait day then call we make date meet for coffee talk laugh she tells me about her folks brothers i listen we walk home flirt tease she admires my place paintings i pour 2 glasses of red wine she grabs embraces heart beating wildly we kiss ***** caress strip **** **** cuddle no one and i begin seeing each other falling in love feeling happy content take each other wherever we go celebrate our anniversary i want her so bad ask ms. nonentity to please marry me she laughs nervously says yes our parents family disapprove we elope me and no one create a life history no that’s not actually true i chickened out lost the love of my life now never married no children no one interested wants me my paintings ms. nobody realizes we have been married for many long years what’s wrong why am i so unnoticed hello? are there words on this page? invisible fiction nobody smiles approvingly she takes my hand kisses it lays her head on my lap i gently stroke her head long hair
Apr 23, 2010
Apr 23, 2010 at 9:39 AM UTC
Was crossing the road
It is not like crossing anything else
A Trailer
Might partition into pieces
Or a Hummer,
In a second, make one a nonentity
Or a tin can of a vehicle
Take away your hand or leg.
Even if your last wish,
In case you have to die in an automobile crash,
Is that it should be the red lancer car you are very fond of,
Which court will listen?
On the other side of the road, there is a neem tree
Its dark green leaves are visible.
No, cannot see the bitterness,
But it is possible it is.
I have to cross the road.
Then
I have to stand a bit under the green on the other side
Those birds have to run away (no, not fly!)
And come back just the way they went.
What then? It is, after all, the road that was crossed,
Which is something!
While crossing the road, came a Trailer
Whose driver was a Tamilian
A Hummer came,
In which there was a father, his friend,
Mother and two kids
The kid was singing loudly
The friend was thinking about his girl friend
A rickety old tin can of a vehicle too came
It was full of wine bottles
For the next century
What then?
Trailer was divided into many pieces
Hummer made one a nonentity in a second
The old vehicle took away two hands, one leg, and two ears.
Now the one who looks this way from the other side:
Is it the one who reached the other side,
Or the one who was standing here,
Or the one who crossed the road,
Or the one who has to return?
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 8:20 AM UTC
I get it
I believed
I thought
I suffered
for you
for us
for me
for my inability
to love you
again and again
I get it
that is not so
I
I am not inadequate
you
you do not love me
you
you want to possess me
your pride speaks
your cowardice
holds me to you
your selfishness
hidden by layers
of mellifluous sensitivity
hits me
you
you want to hurt me
you do not even notice
what you say
you do not see
the bleeding gashes
you keep leaving
on my skin
you do not feel
swollen and distorted scars
on my mind
on my heart
pains
you've inflicted to me
with your silences
with your absences
with your looks
with your words
empty and useless
and false
drawn with black ink
as the planned route
on a cold map
you see my pain
you see my insecurities
you see my guilt
and you walk to your way
heedless
you do not care
it’s been all about you
fake victim of the world
hidden
by a mask of dignity
papier-mâché made
glued with slime
script writing
for an ignorant audience
vacant and bigots faces
you speak
you do
you look
lies!
they’re all lies
black like pitch
you pretend
you mislead
you are sneaky
with me
against me
I believed
I thought
I suffered
for you
for us
for me
for my inability
to love you
again and again
but I
I loved you
I fought
I gave
I kept quiet
I waited
gestures and words
that never arrived
I was
I was there
you could just have
to see me next to you
you've grown
our most beautiful rose
now
it is buried among the thorns
dry and withered
its scent
is consumed
in waiting wind
a persistent
moldy smell
into our nostrils
I was alone
the only color
in a gray landscape
holding a watering can
without water
the fire has gone
no embers under the ashes
I get it
I am not bad
I am not inadequate
I am not inept
I'm not nonentity
I am
I must
I exist
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 3:46 AM UTC
During a time not long ago
When children played tag in alleyways,
There lived a man, a hero,
In worn clothes with very humble ways.
\The neighborhood kids called him John.
No one was sure if he even had a last name.
He was a mystery, a puzzle this John.
Guess his last name and you win the game.
\John walked up the same alleyway everyday,
The kids would listen for his whistle
And the tap of his cletes gave him away,
Not bothered by Life's sharp thistle.
\He greeted us with his eternal smile
Which he wore like the cap on his head.
We always urged him to stay awhile
He would nod,"Maybe tomorrow," he said.
\We decided to give him an identity
As we ****** popsicles on a hot day.
He'd no longer be a nonentity,
He became John No Name in our child's play.
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 9:41 AM UTC
We are
A nonentity,
An almost,
A could-have-been,
A wish,
A dream,
A hope,
A longing.
I live.
I die.
I conquer.
I stumble.
You play.
You speak.
You neglect.
You enjoy.
A breath.
A whisper.
A shout.
A secret.
A game
That will someday end in despair.
A desire
That it will not be too late.
A dare.
Go ahead,
Be a guy, my dear.
‘Cause I’m told no longer
Are you a man.
Jul 18, 2011
Jul 18, 2011 at 7:03 PM UTC
Father,grant me a clearer vision of my mission,
To you, the world and my nation;
That there be no omission.
My life thus commissioned,
With full submission,
Paying full attention.
Defying all obstructions.
Ambitions, passions and obessions,
May be to your glorification.
To others an inspiration,
And all through generations;
Worthy to be mentioned.
And in all entirety,
Ensure that l a celebrity;
Do not sink into oblivion,
And die a nonentity.
But from obscurity,
Like sunrise;
Shine unto eternity.
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 7:22 AM UTC
an uninterested archaeologist studied the bones of eight
dead citizens who had a gradually tightened their grips around our dreams, tapering
as furling curtains swathed the incoming light, swirling, forcing it into nonentity
one would steer the ill-fated course of all.
bury the hatchet that was used to hatch you
put all of your eggs into one spermicidal basket
only the heavy-handed preamble to my funeral
could weigh against such lofty comparisons
we commuted to separated isles, each with their own emulation of truth
with cathartic perspectives, trees wait to abed in your predestined lynching
placing viney nooses into mother nature's scrapbook, a cherished keepsake,
your freckled dna, an infinitesimal page in her tattered cookbook
only in an afterworld will you be allowed to read your book's foreword
know that there is no snooty producer to create for you a cash-in sequel
they all watch you from afar, hungry, salivating
failing to make a distinction between your life and demise
their story's nothing but an interminable sad ending
a null conclusion with nothing to conclude
it holds its breath, crosses its fingers
hoping again to come through
as I placed defeat to my temple and squeezed
I veered into a claustrophobic brick encasement
colored with lifelessness, detachment
and learned infinity is combustible;
an unfolding polygonal paper
forever unwrapping
I've walked with wrecked leagues
casually entered fiery caverns
and the chilling daytime before me,
never is it compelling
I resigned my mind, contemplated grave comprehensions
redid everything, coughing opuses, deftness, drugged insight
my tactics turned to taciturn. no one was conducting
the open metaphor of your eyes, rendering
internal captions. endless captive renditions
my adoration:
the thickly-caked rust in the kitchen faucet
if you catch my spotty, deposited
despot eyes in direct sunlight,
you'll realize their dimness
staring vacantly
into oncoming traffic,
looming passages
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 12:14 AM UTC
*With them in his pocket he broke in swinging dance
But now nonentity two penny gets no chance*
Two penny is so poor got no clue what to do
No fetcher it can’t bring him a slice of the blue
He wanders on the way on him was fifty buck
Spent them on tangibles soon ran out of luck
Two penny is so poor can’t bring his eyes a gleam
Can’t make him a winner can’t weave for him a dream
He sniffs the evening air smells palate tickling food
But what with that two penny that isn’t any good
*Two penny in his pocket with a little try
Fetch him a little blue a piece of his sky
Where he can paint his wish find fulfilment
Fly in the happiness of two penny well spent.*
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 3:00 AM UTC