"overweening" poems
I
A playing raging guitar
Of a kid with taboo thoughts
The first cigar
Who fired shots of dots...
Don’t care and
The revolt of caring
Be scared and
Be the scare!
The acquaint of survival
The wrath of revival
Is everywhere
Anywhere, not visible too
The wrath is the root of trouble
But the root of solution is not wrath
II
A desire so
Excessive,
Rapacious and
Overweening
Of wealth
A pursuit so
Excessive,
Rapacious and
Overweening
Of status
A need so
Excessive,
Rapacious and
Overweening
Of power
A greed so greedy
III
Slaves of virtual reality
To whom dictatorship is not real
To whom liberality, brutality and unreality
Is not real
But the ticking clock is not sloth
Tick-tock, Tick-tock
Men who walk toward sloth
Tick-tock, Tick-tock
'till old growth
Tick-tock
Loath
Tock
IV
Sit idly-by low self-esteem
Caused by lack of ******
Translated to scheme
And unfortunate dream
For achieving an alleged excellency
Or a lengthy and empty possession
What frenzy
And all for envy
V
Advertising
On bus stops
On train stops
On metro stops
On everything that stops
To make you stop
And start
Over-consumption
Over-indulgence
Over everything
Obesity!
Wealthy
Withholding from the needy
From what they really need
Advertising gluttony
VI
A feature of abstinence
Leads to a lack of extravagance
But there are no angels
Only fallen angels
Or angels about to fall
A feature of desire
Leads to an higher feature
Noisy or hushed
It can't be crushed
It's just fuel swallowed
A tool for lust
VII
Pride is divergent
A dreadfully enemy
Or an inside allied
Pride is divergent
Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 2:40 PM UTC
Vanity has created insanity in humanity,
the worldly hope men set their hearts upon,
possessed by Money, power, fame &respect;
empty pride inspired by an overweening
fruitless human desire,
wining and dining as the clouds darken in the
middle of the night,
as they settle for a life of deceiving enjoyment,
eyes are faded while he rest his body for a new
day,
he turns & roll in discomfort while he sleeps,
dreams are clashing, the fear of been poor
strikes his mind,
meanwhile the poor sleep in comfort ,
he won't wake up unless you wake him,
men of exotic fast cars,
Sell their soul to feed their vain pursuit,
and their happiness to feed their ego,
a life of unsubstantial enjoyment, reality awaits
its faith,
as it will be too late to plea of insanity in
eternity,
no hospitality for mental spirituality,
the vanity of human wishes reflect upon
superficial vision of human unfulfillment,
In essence that leads to eternal death.
the poor can't control his pain,
as tears drop from his eyes uncontrollably,
watching man with his fruitless ambitions,
as he settles for worldly materialistic goodies,
living beyond his means,
So many years on earth yet unsure of the
hereafter,
living a life of insecurity & fear of the unknown,
mention the word death ,he will ponder &
begin to wonder,
what his fate will be,
Vanity upon vanity,
When his time elapses,
he won't be left with anything but his good
deeds,
No mansions, no cars, no fame, no sweet voices,
what a life of vanity!!
Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 3:34 AM UTC
**This poem can be heard as a
Spoken word (read by me)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=
IoAeA6nYH5A**
There are some who fool around
With human DNA
They say it's a progessive step
For the world today.
The deciphered human genome
Is a plaything in their hands
Just a toy to then employ
And change the state of man.
"Change your child's DNA!
He's strong as a horse!
He can be, and he can see
Like a hawk, of course!"
Just like in the movies
They've conditioned us for that.
Vampires and werewolves
And woman morphed to cat!
We can all be cyborgs!
Robotic legs and things!
We can be like Batman
But with automated wings!
Let's just look at Genesis
Look at chapter 6
Those beast/man Nephilim
Did actually exist!
The Watchers came and mated
With human women fair
The Sons of God were demons,
So we'd best have a care!
God had to drown the demon-spawn
To save the human race
The waters flooded over them
And there was not a trace.
Now God found Noah perfect
For he had a pure bloodline
There was in him no change
From God's original design.
Now, folks, what will happen
When human beings aspire
To be like animals yet again?
This time there'll be FIRE!!!
What about our tender hearts?
Do they matter anymore?
The world's consumed with evil
You'd best know what's in store.
When we're no longer human
But have a cyborg mind
Will mankind ever be the same?
Godly? Loving? KIND?
Humans enslaved for weakness
Do you find that odd?
We will be a "Super Race"
Usurp the Will of God.
Will there be salvation?
Or will it be too late?
When men go and take the role
Of the God they hate?
Be glad that God loves us!
For we were made like Him.
He wants to take us from this place!
He wants us to WIN!!!
Is this all science fiction?
Watch the news! It's PLANNED!
Babies being altered
To unnatural lifespans!
Because of overweening pride
We mess with things divine
Enter human suffering -
EXIT HUMANKIND.
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 1:20 AM UTC
Society, the nectarous drenched **** of gregarious giving.
Or so we think..
One must be diligent to not consume to the point of overweening upon her intoxicating milk.
"You can be anything" she coos delicately stroking your forehead.
My bleary scruffed state prevents me from feeling her venomous *****
I am rendered limp set agog by the hypnagogic melody of society.
Then there is you...
Your Wild renegade eyes pry me from my cemented prison.
Your Voltaic energy seeped in the poetry that coats my marrow and enamel, the substance of my soul.
Such beauty estranged from society? How can that be?
Was this matronly epicenter all farce and rigamarole?
I clamor in search for those eyes to appease my pain.
I search in vain..
until I face the mirror.
Those eyes belong to me, the remedy to society is the awakening of yourself, the claiming of your poetry.
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 12:00 AM UTC
With wild teased hair, bright orange, and wearing shoes too big,
The clown abandoned Ringling to take on a new gig.
He was not content to pay his rent, like others of his “race”,
By acting in the remake of “killer clowns from outer space”
Nor would he do kids’ parties although he is no slouch
at raising fears that will take years to solve upon a couch .
With wild teased hair, a bright red nose and makeup piled on thick,
This clown decamped to Washington to try out his new Shtick.
With Eddie Munster as his pal, new laws he would propose,
that Femes, dressed as Vaginas, would vociferously oppose.
He’d surround himself with Sycophants but will not get too far
as, unlike his former colleagues, they don’t all fit in one car.
The clown claims he can build a wall to keep out one and all,
and he has a herd of Elephants at his beck and call.
He rules our land by fiat, as delay he can’t abide
He is a textbook narcissist with an overweening pride.
Minnesota has Al Franken as a Senator of course
And, back in Roman times, the purple was worn by a horse.
So one might say that precedents exist for this strange thing;
for a clown to wield a scepter and rule over us as king.
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 7:31 AM UTC
*A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection
**PAPERS! PAPERS EVERYWHERE...
AND NOT A* THING TO READ!**
The thing I remember most about being in the Sea Organization at the Hollywood Org were all the PAPERS! Directives as I was to find. That's what they called memos. We were in a branch of L Ron Hubbard's private little army don'tcha know. Everything, therefore, had a military bent. More specifically we were in the navy. There were personnel who were labeled "bosons". And there were people with the rank of "Supercargo". And Commanding Officers. Actually, LRH would have liked us to be thought of as MARINES. Navy Seals!
He was really THAT egotistical. HIS title was COMMODORE. Yep. His overweening pride took him THAT FAR.
ANYWAY. So there was a storm of paper. Directives EVERYWHERE! Piled on desks. In inbaskets. In boxes. On filing cabinets, which were woefully insufficient for the veritable blizzard of PAPERS! I was forced to read these. DULL AS DITCHWATER. But I was given my own little pile, and a dictionary. Any words I didn't understand could be found in there. I was to look them up. And an extensive memo about the meaning of the Scientogeese which I was to learn. There was an entire LEXICON of THAT, let me tell you! More on that later on. AND we we didn't have TIME to read anything ELSE! Our day was filled with CHORES.... or reading of said PAPERS.
Then I began to notice the other "personnel" around me. NONE of whom appeared to be HAPPY. They were a grayish sort. Looked like the sun very seldom glanced their skin. Glum, yet (for all appearances), VERY dedicated. Then there were folk who seemed to be separate from the other workers. They wore filthy dark blue or black clothing, appeared to run everywhere, and address everyone as "Sir". They were called the RPF. Rehabilitation Project Force. Remember that unit and its abbreviation. For they are to loom large later in my narrative.
But there WAS one person who brought sunshine into my otherwise dreary world...
MARILYN.
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 9:32 PM UTC
In a world of gorged overweening wobbleston folk, it can be difficult to allow yourself the reprieve of natural existence. We all arise in the same cadence and our attrition follows in similar suit. Release yourself into the infallible manor of mystery and truth. Escape the life of perpetuating death, by finding solace within yourself.
There is nothing that needs cumbersome labor, let your body rise in the manner of a child. Accept the world and free your shackles of desolation.
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 10:48 PM UTC
The pre-dawn rang
as cat choirs sang
in waring gangs
sharp and rank
before they sprang
with claw and fang.
Isn’t it an overweening piety
to think that diverse cat societies
would address conflicts more politely
observe more cultural propriety
and politic more peacefully and quietly
than our own species, which behaves so violently
Are we not, in part, their masters?
Don’t we war for goals we’re after?
Aren’t some of our leaders practically gangsters?
Humans are - frankly - alpha-predator ********
Does any species author more disasters?
If the language of cats, we could unscramble,
and into their feral dialogs we could wrangle,
perhaps we’d see that they’re just following our example.
Feb 28, 2024
Feb 28, 2024 at 6:56 PM UTC
If I hear another commercial glaring on in toadying fashion about title loans or exorbitant jewelry, I do believe by belly button will suction myself into a mangled flesh raisin.
We are just marionettes in this abhorrent charade of a game, indentured servant to the very thing we lionize and worship.
It's laced with the portent of hope but made with the intention of despair.
It's the reason we are reeled out of bed in obsequious duty and fall asleep in existential worry.
The thing in which can establish an empire yet eagerly turns around to act as the executioner.
Overweening on the stiver of promise you plot the grave where you will soon rest.
They tell you that happiness is a biological setting, yet how can this be when the seas of currency are what determine if I am able to eat.
You mold a throne for some by using the sinew and soul of the others.
You are the reason our economy functions, and the reason for humanities destruction.
Nonchalantly buried in my jeans, the crumpled green paper of misery.
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 1:43 AM UTC
Midnight swallowed overweening
pride, unbidden, in all its hollowness,
as worthlessness dug up a permanent
hole around the edges
of dreary mornings.
Apr 26, 2019
Apr 26, 2019 at 9:25 AM UTC