"presupposed" poems
When people ask if you're weird, or tell you,
or want to believe themselves strange,
eclectic, or odd.
It's vaguely disgusting to me,
cringeworthy in a mild degree.
We think we're so different,
but we are not.
The individualism of people
should be and is comparable
to the individualism of ants.
Who looks at the anthill and
sees something in particular,
something behaving specifically
"uniquely"
from every ant and every anthill?
Why do you believe in yourself?
I see this, as a conversation about
depression, and your partner
does not respect you
but instead wants to
tell you how they feel worse,
or have it worse, or "understand" more
about the affirmation or situation.
A person looking for individuality
through a lens of misery, anguish, and sadness,
is truly alone in their minds, and missing the
reality that these depressions exist without them.
The statement, "you are not alone" is an attack,
or an offense to these people, because it says
"you are not as unique as you think",
it strips them of their identity and individuality.
This is true of many ideologies and affirmations.
I quit individuality, this constricting sense
of holding everything of yourself in center,
to be a drop in the whole, something fluid.
If you split your affirmations from yourself,
you'd see we're all the same;
Affirmations are just currents in the ocean.
I look at myself; and people see a man,
a radical feminist, and sometimes a musician.
As labels, these each have their own presupposed notions,
[especially, "man" or "male" in the patriarchal gaze]
which hardly, if ever, are true,
but as affirmations, when I consent to using them,
these are no longer stereotypes that constrain me,
but similarities that I realize
I can embrace or shut out in others.
Affirmations do not make me more unique,
but similar to more people.
If I remove these affirmations to try and get to my "true" center,
my purest form of self, I see I am without meaning.
This is why I quit Individuality.
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 1:59 PM UTC
there's ethical idealism:
where ethics is discussed...
there's ethical relativism:
where ethics is practised...
there's ethical realism...
where ethics is quantified
as an improbability;
and then there's ethical
absolutism,
where we supposedly
"progress" -
in this scenario are
the laws of physics actually
suspended:
whereby oculus qua oculus
is replaced -
a loss of an eye is "relative"
to 10 years in a cage...
really?!
ethics is
ideal, realistic, absolute or relative...
we're encouraged to live
in "realistic relativism"...
never in an absolute realism,
since realistic relativism
only compares itself
to ideal absolutism...
and nothing more...
ever watched that film
secrets in their eyes?
you ever wonder what
ethical idealism is to the ethnical
consequence that can absorb
a realistic libra?
i can only believe in
ethical absolutism,
ethical relativism is horrid to me...
relativism adorns idealism,
absolutism adorns realism...
a life sentence is worse than
a death sentence,
whether justified or not,
prison is sadism,
but at least ****** is simply ******
a space-time intact,
a ****** penalty is not
inhumane, nor a ouija board...
it's time for time,
space for space,
the actual punishment comes
with the missing adrenaline rush
of the unexpected reception of the wielded
weapon...
either send these jealous plonkers to
siberia, or sentence them to death,
for you are no more than they are,
nay, you are more...
you're akin to cats toying,
playing a sadistic games with half-mutilated
mice...
this is why i abhor
ethical relativism of the crucifix...
hence my belief in ethical
absolutism in the paragraph of realism,
which is perfected, by
being exacted, and never, ever,
being leisurely discussed,
on a farcical palette with a grimace
to boot: ******* a lemon;
compensating the horrors within
minutes, is never compensated
with ordeals that last years...
which is why i find the death penalty
an act of authentic humanity,
and not this quasi-humanitarian
act of pardon, ******* hypocrites -
i abhor the caged rat
more than the rat gladly nibbling
on a dead corpse...
at least there was passion
in the ******
waiting for death penalty is like killing
a vermin with poison,
disposing them with nonchalantly...
the wise maxim states:
ledo ferrum sicut id est calidi -
strike the iron while it's hot...
death is the dawn-broker -
a new tomorrow promise -
left intact, the fermenting process
of ethical dynamism takes over...
then again,
the supposedly "evolved"
preferred moral relativism to moral
absolutism,
because there was no
moral realism to speak of,
since morality could only
be talked about in ideal terms of
the supposedly so, supposedly
fashioned via: it ought to never happen to
me...
and then it might, and then:
oops... argument sinks like a wet fatty ****
into shambles of keeping up with
the presupposed pillar of argument
being "impenetrable";
hey, genius, back to the blackboard!
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 8:50 PM UTC
Are we to wither away, say goodbye to the remote possibility of everything or the acceptance of nothing, damaged as we are from life and what it has thrown at us and how we have adapted to it, where is the strength we thought nothing of when we were young – everything was possible, anything could be overcome.
Now it is harder to start from the beginning to rise from the detritus that has left its smudge on this human plane, to feel warmth from one’s own heart, passions that used to run deep are locked away lost from the moment, will they ever return or are they buried from this reality – what is this reality?
Pure and without stimulus our bodies weak from over indulgence become but empty vessels for our pain to adhere to, but yet exists this mind of memories that fail to disappear.
These very memories fight with the functionality that we accept as our living life mixed with dreams and our experiences laid bare to improve upon the quality of our anger, frustration, pleasure and happiness that engages us again, enabling us the advantage to overcome our apathy and withstand hardship and discomfort, both mentally and physically.
And once again we shout from the highest imagined ground our intentions and with our determination set to turbo drive, we move out on to the superhighway of our existence, battling our demons to achieve our presupposed goals, is this living?
Or merely homage to a bygone set of loosely interpreted doctrine absorbed from our greater consciences. Individuality what has this become? – A freedom to define ones uniqueness?
Is it truly accepted or is it frowned upon, an illusion perhaps, to be held high then massaged by ego, manipulated by the wannabees and dismissed by the pseudo intellectuals for their contrived ill-gotten gains.
Or is it puerile credo that mutates in to a complex melange of all things material, a substitute for the happiness that existed in a previous incarnation of existence, without doubt a causal effect imploding, oblivious to the damage that is caused by the ignorance of consideration and distillation of emotion from love, to the banality of acceptance.
Once again the circle is circumvented and the cycle is begun in earnest until the finality of death is welcomed unto the midst of longing from the soul, in repose before its journey to dance amongst the cosmos.
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 6:53 PM UTC
I'm willing to risk it
I'm willing to risk everything because
I can't hold it in
Because I love you
I've already lost you
What more can I lose?
I've lost the only person I think I will be able to love
And the only thing I'm trying to do is get through to you
That no matter how far you push me, I will be waiting...
Maybe, waiting wont get me anywhere
And maybe I will miss out on a huge part in my life
But I don't feel like I used to...
Happiness isn't the same anymore...
People might say I am crazy and I will agree with them, I am crazy!
I would never wish anyone would feel this way but I'm so glad that I fell in love with someone and I am glad that it was with you
We didn't have the perfect relationship or even close to a stable relationship but it was real
It was amazing to feel something new with you day after day
It was amazing to fall more in love with you from day one and even till now
It's the greatest gift
This may be cliche, hell I know it's cliche but that's the world we live in, a world full of cliches
People play out the words like "love" "admire", and all the things you hear and see in the media about this presupposed love, but I do love you and admire everything about you
I miss everything about you.
I miss the taste of your lips, the touch of your hands, the sound of your laughter, the way you look while you sleep, the wrinkles on your nose when you get mad and much more. I miss spending time with you, being around you, just watching movies and tv through the night, going places with you, and I especially miss having the privilege to spend time with you.
I want to tell you this, and yes I am scared.
I know you don't want to talk to me nor even acknowledge my existence anymore.
You told me to move on and I told you I would try and yes, there were also times when I told you I did, but I didn't.
How could I?
I love you and it will always be you. I don't know what it is and how you got me under this deep spell but in all honesty I don't want to ever break out of it.
I do hope you are happy, but I also hope you feel as miserable as I do every time you think of love, I hope you get sick to your stomach when you see people in love because I do.
I do feel miserable and I do get sick to my stomach because I miss that feeling that I use to have with you and I get jealous.
I admire you, yes.. in all honesty, I do!
I love you and I love the fact that I love you.
Every time I try to hate you I hate myself and I start feeling guilty because I am reminded of the fact that I promised you forever and I promised that I will wait for you.
My love, I wish you would see this and read it.
I wish you would inhale these words and hear my soul.
I want you to feel what I am spilling out in every inch of your veins. I want you to imagine me in front of you, saying this to you, but I want you to give me a chance to speak. I want you to let me hold your hands for the last time if it ever might be. I want you to have the heart to give me just ten minutes to honestly pour out my heart to you. But I also want an honest answer and a reply from you. Just know that I do love you and I will always love you.
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 11:40 PM UTC
Words of the masses are gathered in galleries,
Verbage is gathered in cloistering mass.
Masses are gathering to cloister their verbage
Where verbage is cloistered for masses to stash.
Nursing the words from a mind full of passion,
Coaxing the phrases to render them bold.
Weilding the pen with theatrical flourish
Hoping to God inspiration takes hold.
Legions of letters lie waiting in folders
Waiting for praise to hold up it's hand,
Begging acclaim from occasional perusal
To seeking the fame of a publishers' brand.
Passion and pain are an artists' portfolio
Ego and talent are held presupposed,
Preposterousness is taken for granted
But nil recognition gets right up the nose.
Gnashing of teeth and fingernail chewing
Coincide with a confidence fall
But the ultimate down in a work hard done
Is to have your peers ignoring it all.
A kernal grows from fleeting feelings
Inspiration holds the thought,
A thing of grandeur pens to greatness
Breathlessly... a script is wrought.
Dancing fingers grace the keyboard
Lilting music fills the air,
A wordsmith's touch of rich creation
Links the literate portrait's flair.
There tis done.. A thing of beauty
Silently I sit and stare,
Wordlessly, I thank the Heavens
Art is wrought and art is there.
Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
1 August 2010
Aug 1, 2010
Aug 1, 2010 at 1:38 AM UTC
You have greater worth than you suppose.
So, please listen to what I propose.
Don't default to self-less,
but be more deliberate in your selflessness
leaving space for a little selfish too.
Dont settle for less. Don't just make do.
Learn what makes you happy and then embrace it.
Recognise what makes you angry
and carefully express it
without being cranky
confront frankly and talk.
Don't just shut down and walk.
And accept the help your friends offer.
They wouldn't have offered if they couldn't be bothered.
Your friends have an investment in your friendship,
so don't let those friendships slip. They too benefit.
When you make contact, know you do not impose.
Because, it's true, you are of far greater worth
than you have presupposed.
Apr 25, 2019
Apr 25, 2019 at 5:29 AM UTC
A haze.
I'm breathing so heavy.
My eyes are half shut.
Why are my legs so far away?
What is this creeping sensation,
Eating away at consciousness?
A blur.
The world is on mute.
I hear people talking, but they aren't saying anything.
I can hear myself talking, but I'm not saying anything.
Or am I saying things but not really talking?
I just don't know.
A glow.
I can perceive my condition. Rationalize it.
Shunt my thoughts into a presupposed state.
I know what is weighing down upon my brain,
But the feeling is too fantastic to even begin to care.
Normally I'd be talking, but for once in my life...
I'm content to just listen.
A buzz.
I don't worry any more about what people think of it.
I am expanding my knowledge about reality,
Just by perceiving it differently.
Perhaps I am altering my mind, but I have to ask you,
Is any other form of learning anything else?
We are all modifying our minds, at all given times.
I consider it just a way of igniting that creative flame.
I am ******
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 11:38 PM UTC
Gritting my teeth to the chalk of a smile,
I taste my tongue-tied tipping
points of platitude and innocuous
glances. I’d like to take
a dip into the powerade
of an eye—poison
my electrolytes and throw
up the unconscious effort to keep it all
down. Bellow
the belly of this
bending in binary is the mending
of mind
body
and soul—the syrup to my cynicism.
I’ve been bundled
together tight enough to taste the tingle
of anticipation just before the
fall
into cool, quiet cotton
candy. I could scream if I cared
to. My madness mumbled and muttered
mulled through and muted—
passed from eye to mind—
mind to measure—
measure to mechanism.
The hum of
impetus. The creak
of rising action. The screech into
final release.I’d like to
plunge my plasticity in a pool of electricity—
singeing all but just the edges.
Rattling rails of self imposed righteousness.
Tattling tales of presupposed hypocrisy.
Only I can mold my moment
at the peaking of this pinnacle
to whatever my mind would
make it out to mean:
a death
a daredevil
a daydream.
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 11:24 AM UTC
I'm a professor who professes to teach beyond the textbook lessons. To approach the very essence of the creative self-expression,
Known as man and known as woman. Call you to a higher ed concessions, to appoint the very purpose of this presupposed oppression,
Of your eyes, and of your mind, I wish you to the other side, of the unguided and unknowing creative self which lies inside.
Cause what is life without perspective, and what are trials if you do not try, and strive beyond your own horizons, and slide down the back of the other side?
Will there be shadows on the road, yes, will you trip and stumble, a couple of times, but never let yourself be doubtful of the potential you hold inside,
To create the future, sculpt the present, and tread the clay where it resides. Because in class is where I see you, but in this life you use your eyes,
To see the self-inside of others, to recreate what's on your mind. To be the difference and the vision, you have the tools to go and try,
And share your view of the horizon, survive the frustration in stride. Become creative in your endeavors, and you’ll bring joy to me and my eyes.
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 1:46 PM UTC
i like to start off some conversations with a good old fashioned
**** you"
i feel it levels the playing field
puts us on
the same track
we can now converse without the usual presupposed notion that i actually like you
or you me
see?
we are now able
to talk about the ****** new york weather
and what we didn't do over the summer
with ease
say **** you" first,
please
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 2:31 AM UTC
angles of presupposed superiority
in floodwaters i am thrown to you
torched the abandoned barn in the middle of the woods with you last night
you said you'd never forget it but you'd try and i said nothing to you
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
Us and our arguments presupposed - You said I was wrong.....after much cogitation-through the perception of pain
I think you're right!
To have you in my heart, where you don't belong
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 11:36 AM UTC
Minorities are the majority
in a time of mass produced philosophies
A person's worth is based upon
their subjective ideology
Absolutes are known to dilute
an individual's thought process
Every man and woman comes along
with their own pocket god or goddess
Presupposed until something grows
on their wealth of opinions
The significance of what someone knows
dissolved into the billions
A rare find is a cliche or clan
joined together by their mindset
Groups of one, always fighting, warring
they’re their party’s only asset
Without a leader to unite
information remains unimportant
Books and poems, down the drain
Only your thoughts are worth it
Of course, everyone has their own thoughts
and their own personal solution
but all everyone’s answers, all they do
is only add to the confusion
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 9:41 PM UTC
#*Heading up into
the unspoken-- a
spirit, as of yet
unbroken;
she needs to be there.
Undefined; undisclosed
with no-thing presupposed
I bring my I
(she says)
fly, said her
I...
and into the
sky
she did fly--
fully-clothed
yet, sacred-robed
she was going somewhere
as of yet
un-probed.
Is there any way to dress
for a place like that?
And when you get there
would it matter anyways?
Back down to the ground;
white tank top and panties-on--
perfect.
God-ordained but
no one 'splained
the effect this smokin-view
would have on me--
heh,
And she brought that
Love-scent
back down with her
from the N e x t p l a c e
.. and Im as high
as a man can be.*
#
Oct 26, 2019
Oct 26, 2019 at 12:26 AM UTC
The night is blank, like venison.
John Wesley Harding held my hand through the river.
The end is nigh.
Tomorrow things will be different, things will change.
I have so much passion, it's a curse.
I'm tired of tomorrows. I'm tired of being a fool.
I don't want to be a walking shadow.
I was born a walking shadow, so I was doomed from the start.
I find myself in love with everything and nothing but confusion to show for it.
I see myself and I am a small patch of existence. I question myself.
Why do I care about something so insignificant?
Why do I love her and hate him. I once despised strong emotion, but now I've learned to be rude and decisive.
Now, for the sake of heart, I must forget what I've learned.
I was born yesterday, it's a fact.
Running down the mountain is the green of the Earth, the metaphor of life. Pouring out itself is the wind, singing softly an echo of eternity. Rising from the sky a great pillar, and a message therein embedded presupposed perpetual motion.
There is good, and there is evil. There is life and there is death. There is creation and there is destruction.
Destruction has so much power, for everything is in constant decay, and yet, creation wins. Though people die, life wins in the end. Sure, it's optimistic, but I don't care!
I see you now...
Hair over your beautiful face, and you tell me,
without saying a word... you tell me....
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 6:02 PM UTC