"parodox" poems
Life is such a parodox
Its an oxymoron
Those who talk the least
Have the most to say
Those who feel the most
Cant even show it
Those who have the most to live
Want to die the most
Why is this so?
Why is it when i think
Often so deeply
That i cant explain
No matter how much
I want to do so
Its just all stuck
I think through things so much
But i can't explain my thoughts
They just stay stuck
Or come out stupid
Why cant i just talk?
Some people talk so much
And yet say so little
I have so much to say
Yet i talk so little
Life my dear friends
Is such a parodox
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 11:53 PM UTC
creased, bruised, and probably a bit cracked
she was bent, in and out of shape so many times her feelings were far too familiar with contortion
but she was whole
a parodox, she was.
if you asked her what she loved she would probably tell you she was unaware of the word
but her veins told a different story, they mapped passages and roads, broken bridges and rigid ropes intertwining
and at every end there were images, memories you could touch and tug that would make her eyes sparkle
but you'd never guess it
see, most days she tends to act like her morning coffee,
dark and bitter
and I bet if you tried to count her eyelashes as she'd fall asleep you'd lose count and fall unconscious due to her surrounding force
she probably doesn't know this
but she is art
she always has been.
not the written or the spoken kind
but the kind that's hung up on a wall, highly overpriced and rarely understood
her edges were sharp
but she had no frame
she was art,
and I didn't need Picasso's signature to know that.
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 12:52 PM UTC
He hugged me so tight
He suffocated the hell out of me
And by hell i mean
All my insecurities and demons
Never have i felt safer
With his arms holding me
Never have i felt in greater danger
With his scent
Running through my veins like nicotine
Rendering me more and more addicted
This contradiction left me confused at first
But one thing I was sure of
I ached for his hug
If only just one more time
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 4:57 PM UTC
This concept of a parodox haa fascinated me
It is
For example
Safe to say that there is an outside within our phones
(Assuming that you have a picture of the outdoors on your phone)
It's like taking freedom and free will and forcefully taking a part of it and putting freedom inside a cage
(A wonderful ring of irony in that)
And we can also create an outside within our minds
(Assuming that you have an imagination)
The difference being however that we steal nothing of that freedom
We just make our own one
So ask yourself
Which one am I?
The one that takes from freedom
Or the one that creates it
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 4:33 AM UTC