"rhetorics" poems
Are we fated to dance to the same tune alone in our separate universes?
Is it true that we must silently keep to our preordained curses?
Are we destined to swoon at the beauty of the moon at differing time slots?
Why were we given invisible ink to connect our lives' dots?
Must it be that our lives revolve around the whims of the sun?
Isn't it ludicrous that we won't see the intricate webs we've spun?
Was it the plan that we exist only in our minds and hearts?
Why do we have to tolerate starting when the other's ending and end at the other's starts?
Has it been written that we can only afford to infinitely chase each others heartbeats?
Was it foretold that we're trapped in a singular notion that never really fits?
Is the game set as such that we can never emerge as winners?
How is it that the ocean was made out of our tears that flowed from rivers?
Why is it that with our entirety we believe but do not know?
What's the reason for the path made clear but we're too afraid to go?
What does it entail to possess the very least but yet you covet it the most?
How do you pride yourself in something but not allowed to boast?
Why do we frantically scramble to piece together jagged shards?
Can't we just play this blasted deck of lousy cards?
Is it destiny or cruelty to have found then lost?
Why does it seem absurd that we have all its takes but can't afford the cost?
Is it the thoughts that **** or the emotions that debilitate?
Is it the challenges we take on or the curveballs we anticipate?
Why bother when sheer folly is all it seems to be?
Why tarry when the heart is free and the mind is ready?
Is it ridiculous to have found myself still very bothered?
Is it wrong to question fate that had always bound us tethered?
Why is the good always bad and the bad becomes worse?
Is it true that the harder we fight, the deeper we immerse?
Has life turned to be but sad little rhetorics?
Are we but performers on stages coerced into theatrics?
Is it time for me to surface this one-man submarine?
Will it be so that if I do, my journey would then begin...?
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC
Booming Rhetorics (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
==Booming Rhetorics ==
by
Checkered Darks
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
(Copy the link below to your browser)
https://soundcloud.com/user-367453778/boomingrhetorics
Human nature itself is a smash of contractual responsibility. A splash of rights afloat as we sink in our psychological rooted moral panics. All I see is a cascading titanic of ventures our mislaid adventures one after another. The criss cross of chains, we bonded in tax measures, reserve treasures...... It's not my leisure I beg you don't make your pleasure.
I sink in pressure, resolving Karl Mark ideology of conflicted power. Is it our born nature or nurture to live in a world of social polarisation. A pole to pole, a tug of war. Each owning and holding a rope.Is it our task to cage in boxes, fencing notions of inequalities within our society. Is it our right this notion Bourgeoisie and Proletariat.
Help me out as as I wade in the swampy lowland. Treading through and through, head afloat, the submerging walk me to the shores..... Help me find my way through this dark tunnel. Help me see the light, let the sun ray penetrate my blight.
In our dichotomy of democracy we have made it right. A rolling ball of ........
1. Stock them high sell them cheap is the order of the day.
2. Social warehousing of merging demand and supply chain.
3. A disintegration of socialist entrepreneurship.
4. Re-distribution of Export Production Zones in marginalised countries.
5. A surge of capitalism on this patch we call the universe.
6.Conortions of monopoly colluding sustainability.
I pass this ball to you. As the industrial revolution fades and debates of "STEEL" revolves.
My Speech is a mere consideration, our contradiction. The contractual complications that we have grounded and granted ourselves as humanity. My voice is an exchange, my gift, a cloud of thoughts, an arousing hope our haunting costs.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 6:19 AM UTC
Days go with you and bid goodbye
Hours slide down and die
And drape down
The innocence of the Noun!
With the experience of Adverbs
Of place, time and frequency, the Verbs
Replace the endearing use of Nouns
(Slowly moving from lisping sounds )
To the stable use of personal Pronouns!
Individuality stands alone keeping the Subject alone
Sometimes with a defiant adolescent tone
Distractions, doubts in the use of Determiners
A shaky ground for the beginners!
Disagreement with the Subject-Verb agreement begins
Early during this period and lurks within, and at times springs
With the Nouns like mathematics, rhetorics and news
Without any tension to meddle in don’ts and dos!
What I wish to say in a few sentences
Is not enough about life’s infinite time and tenses!
To deconstruct the grammar of growing up is not enough
As adolescence is a diamond in the rough;
It is a living discourse; both simple and tough
Ironical, unpredictable, surprising, puzzling stuff
Needs patience, pardon, perseverance and fun
To handle its substance for every daughter and son!
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 1:19 AM UTC
The Acolytes come marching in and out and in, out again
Minds befuddles, rationalities amissing, fully indoctrinated
Pathetic Dogs of Attrition dressed all in white, all in pain
Compulsive obsessives, neurotics primed and oxygenated
Scrappers at the bottom of the barrel wants unlawful gain
By hook or crook is their recourse, to that they are mandated
From rhetorics long gone and ideologies forged in days of rain
Our intrepid Confused and Acolytes are soundly medicated
Just march to left, left, left, left and we will ease all your pain
Recognize that the enemies are those that think and are educated
They all claim domain at the top, with kudos, status and fame
While you languish in closed barrels, your poor lives truncated
Those Bosses are all there because they are all Masonic inclined
Doctors, lawyers and Professionals paid cash for Degrees granted
They did no work or study, rich Daddies just paid so they claim
All those Entrepreneurs are Robbers who bankraid unarrested
Because the Police are all masonic and help/share in all the gain
The Royals are Top Mafiosas, with International links atested
So Dumb Acolytes Know the truths and fall with the wise in line
We must regain Power and march left, left so we're not left in vain
The republic shall live because it's 21 Century and we wake in time
We take all from the Secret Society and cut off all our iron chains
Begin by taunting, tormenting and harassing that ****** Wayne
The ****** Prince is the African Mafia Chief and Exploiter kingpin
Sing with me everybody
Viva la Revolution, viva la Revolution
We are clever, all in our White uniforms
We march to the left left left with our two left feet
We know our brains have left us but we go left left
Viva la Revolution, Viva la Revolution, Viva la Jinbba.
Hey! jinbba, jinbaba, hey! jinbba jinbaba, hey! jinbba jinbba
Sing.........
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 5:09 AM UTC
Whimsical roses and uttered rhetorics
spare the disgrace of the grieved afflictions
pebbled roads of restraints and constraints
laughter and compressed redundancy
the tone changes and emptiness nest
the tongue races and eventuality sets
such a season of unknown unrest
undresses one to a bare *****
where the ****** peaks, unsure of the leak
offended in the reign of unnamed seeds
with evocative sprouts that germinate
to the unlocked mysteries of happenstance
such a season of bearable tests
caress one to a bare bottom
where even shame never turn or press
oppressed in the fields of unmarked borders
with seductive crowns that culminates
to the unlocked mysteries of happenstance
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 4:02 AM UTC
The waves welling
Up my throat
My stomach full with doubt
Constipating despair
Irritated by questions
As my brain can't comply
My reasoning sick
And the rhetorics
Driving me crazy on what
Is the real deal here.
Who am I?
Why me?
Why all the struggle?
Then purpose drops
But the questions still
Remains unanswered
Bewildered at how people
Push through suchlike
Waves
And why?
You know yesterday
I actually found a card
He once sent me
Then reading I discovered,
He saw that coming
Us breaking up
"We may not be making each other aware of our feelings often, but the love we share, is beyond the day to day expressing...
Its a feeling that our hearts have taken for granted forever."
Am not sure what I
Feel anymore
Should it be joy
That he hoped that even though now
We might part ways
That later we will reunite
Or he saw that even though
Our love was true
It was forbidden and
The only way out to
Protect both our hearts
Was to break the bond and hurt
To nurse it all our lives.
Its hard to keep breaking
Through when all I can do
Is try keep up!!!
Aug 10, 2020
Aug 10, 2020 at 5:39 PM UTC
Given the option
to be with you
was rhetorical;
As inquisitive as I am,
my curiosity replenished
with every
kiss
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 3:25 AM UTC
Long time not sharing
The hussle of life glaring
Outshining my needs
Breeding boredom until
My eyes sore
Forget to see the Magic
Worse yet
My hands forget to share
The specks of joy
Staring at me in the face
Replaced by the sorrow vision
Displaced by the daily mission
Brushing my dreams aside
Gliding its way to the top priority
Where all else comes first
But my poetry
Has been asleep awhile
I try to express but the words
Are lost in this busy depression
Where I do not have time to feel
End of day reeling questions in mind
Like why and who am I again?
And again
And again
Yet I refrain from rhetorics
For the answers I find come out in rage
Page after page I could tear and burn
From all the frustration I feel as I work
But today
I will tear through the darkness
Harness it so I can love regardless
Of the pain in living as human
The truth is that I carry love
For all of you who share this truth and
I want you to know what it means
To me
When I gaze upon your soliloquies
They save me
Long time not caring it seems
So I will set the record straight:
Thank you for sharing and reading
My poetry mates
Zani will love you always
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 6:49 AM UTC
i do, even when I don't
believe, I mean
hope, secretly
wish on broken fairy lights
broken wishes find nothing better to hold onto
how many man does it take to fix a light bulb?
none, I whisper
i have not known enough men in my life, just voices of authority and temporary solace
who hide under the mask of being men
what does it mean, to be men, women, birds, martyrs, dying honey bees in a terrible monsoon
within drenched realities of potholes and puddles
where my childhood still jumps and scrapes it's knees
i never knew what it felt to have butterflies erupt in my stomach
and feel their flutter in my laughter, they scare me, all winged insects do
i have been mocked before,
my fear of insects misunderstood,
but i'm not scared of wings
or to trip into a world with no meaning,
not that our existence holds any either way
i am not scared, honestly, of the rhetorics of daily routines and internalized desires
to have warm soup when my body burns with fever
fevers are good,
fevers make me burn and no one else holds the match sticks
and I know that the fireworks that erupt as headaches as my fever worsens are here to stay but only temporarily,
just like the fireworks in my heart that certain people set free
i am scared of winged insects,
and of people who set fireworks instead of butterflies in my skin and bones,
but I am not scared of wings.
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC
#*What part of the life
Have I truly lived
What part of the life
Have I fairly lived
What part of the life
I truly missed
What part of the life
I wish to live twice
What part of the life
I wish never to repeat
What part of the life
Was full of vice
What part of the life
Can be erased
What part of life
Was perfect
What part of the life
Was just for rhetorics
What part of the life
Has made it worthwhile
The living and loving
That’s truly right*#
Jul 27, 2024
Jul 27, 2024 at 11:51 AM UTC
Poet aka lower low
Ugh! Here he comes
I should have known that a poem like you
Would wild so much speculations
Drawing big crowds and
Enticing them to decipher your rhetorics
Now I remember
You said it was for "philosophical thinkers"
Such a big word for a mere poem like you
Who for some reason
likes to rule out its readers as nothing but insolent idiots
I thought you traded complexity for gratification
Isn't that your end game afteral
Cause comprehensive analysis of your ideology
Wouldn't delve out any logical meaning
Or let's go a step further and call it a doctrine
A cup of tea for your ego
Poem
Listen you muggot , idiot
or whatever you self identify yourself as
I've never felt the need to dumb down my
Unfathomable intelligence to your
Lower low level
but the universe wouldn't have it any other way
I can see the poverty of your lexicon
written to please your fellow peasants
Look at me, am the multiplicity of a thousand beings
a thirst that can never be quenched
How dare you grace yourself
With your redundancy
Your quite naive lower low
Here is an imagery for you
I'm smoking Mayan sicars
Most expensive cigars you've never heard of
Cause your too busy being a mediocre
Just for clarification
I wouldn't want to be stopped to your level
People would start talking
Creating assumptions and damaging my reputation
Imagine a poem like me being written by a poet like you
Jeez! I'd rather die
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 7:01 AM UTC
i remember telling a girl
(maybe
asking her)
"what is there
besides
love?"
i guess there's
mockery
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 2:28 AM UTC
There is veracity in our vernacular,
Rhythm in our rhetorics,
This power that I speak of,
Lies only with the poets.
Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 3:04 PM UTC
Do you ever feel guilty?
for the scars you left?
for the missing pieces of me
I gave to complete you?
pieces that never quite fit
never quite enough
does it keep you up at night?
do your nightmares wear my face?
can you still hear me
screaming
does it echo in your head like a storm?
does it break your heart,
knowing you broke mine?
do you ever cry for the days you stole from me?
days, months, years
too much time spent fixing a ghost
demon, soul eater, blood drinker
if you saw the bruises you left on my trust
like ink stains, messy and spreading
every lie and every ******* harsh word
and yet you refused to hear me
screaming
I died for you once, burnt like a forest
now growing back without you
may you never find shade underneath me
or feel the soft soil brace your step
may you dream about the shrieking wind
and I'll no longer be dreaming
of you
Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 8:20 AM UTC
I know I'm not the only one
That these questions keep
Up at night
Like why do babies cry the same
Do fools fall in love or
Does love make a fool
Which arm rest is really mine at the cinema
and if man evolved from monkeys
How come we still have monkeys
and what about my daydreams at night
Would a picture of a thousands words
be worth so much?
I really can't sleep much do I?
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 5:30 AM UTC