"shamming" poems
1. your precious smile,
that never failed to shine;
a heaven-sent beam,
that made my heart your realm.
2. your tenderness,
that gave me bliss;
how could someone be
like you, so dearly?
3. your good vibes,
that surpassed all tribes
in giving off the positivity
i need for my stubborn reality.
4. your talents,
that awakened everyone's hearts;
you are my significant inspiration,
you give life to my life's ambition.
5. your humility,
that's filled with sincerity.
while everyone else is toplofty,
you remained lowly.
not everyone as wonderful as you,
could show meekness too.
6. the happiness you shared,
at times when smiling is something
i never dared;
darling, it meant everything.
7. for your meaningful silence,
that gave me a better comprehension.
although your stillness was tense,
i knew in my heart it was never a rejection.
8. for your music,
that never halts to flourish.
music, your depiction of aesthetic;
through you, the melody will never tarnish.
9. for being your genuine self,
you gave me potency to do the same.
shamming is no longer something i'll play, for you taught me how to
end that witless game.
10. for bringing me daily sunshine,
for setting the moon & the stars aligned;
my everyday became better,
and i will treasure you forever.
there are way more reasons
on why i love you for real.
through the passing seasons
i could slowly & slowly reveal
and show you how i truly feel.
as time passes us by,
i would no longer hesitate
and keep my sentiments ensconced.
through the coming weeks, months and years,
as long as we have all the time
i would dauntlessly lay out to you
that the way i feel for you is true.
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 8:45 AM UTC
I open the blinds and see the world - in return, what
does the world see? It sees me, and all my splendid, split
personalities, living these amazing times, of amazing
pleasures, in which we tweet tweets, and post posts re
ego-trips and copyrighted links, videos and things; and,
as stray dogs, we ramble randomly, and all the time,
living in our infinite worlds, of infinite lanes, till infinity;
yet we suffer so much pain.
Our Shih Tzus take us on extended walks, firmly leashed
to our Koss plugs, as we drone cool tunes on multihued
iPods, iPhones buzzing ringtones of tittering babies,
stolid kings and hyperactive frogs, which would all make
my eighty-six year old dad want to gag; we fly
ultralight megaplanes at the sonic sound of speed,
through virtual and real space, connecting dots at low-
cost prices, while we belt-up, gear-up, gulp Gaga and
gorge heat-inducted meals of deer, horse and over-
promoted crap; and then, wow surprisingly, we are all
so unsatisfied.
We consciously all move-in together, and **** on end,
like statistical sheep, pre-married, unloving, and broken
up, and justify it all, to ourselves, with our fully
stretched spandex morality, over low-carb brunches
@Starbucks, two 14” screens of separation; we paint
pornographic images of virgins, all called Mary, in the
name of art, and, white-clad, **** babes and alter-boys,
and penetrate each other, first with our fingers, deeply,
then superficially, without even wondering, for a
zeptosecond, why we can’t stand one another any
longer.
We crank-up dependencies, like high street mainliners,
shamming and slaughtering for neurotoxic fixes of
smileys and Crystal on billion-dollar Kogo yachts, while
we all just pedal on, dispassionately, down and over
interior canals, to the core of our hocked, abbrev lives,
chronically connected and severely distracted, in
aromatic polymer bubbles, heedlessly cruising through
comic-strip farms of mock vegetables, surely to nowhere
and towards no one; and quite frankly, the world laughs
at all this, and sobs, and so do I.
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 4:08 PM UTC
It’s 1:49 AM, I’m eighteen and I have classes tomorrow morning at 9 in the morning and I’m going to turn nineteen on December, that means one more year until I become a twenty years old, useless adult that’s leeching off my parent’s wallet, because I don’t have a way of living and I need internet.
It’s 1:51 AM and I’m getting older and older by the second and I’m here wasting my time ranting on a blog that nobody cares about. I am so frustrated and that’s probably, because I’m on my period and I’m starving, but I don’t want to eat.
It’s 5:53 AM and I’m thinking, am I fat shamming if I say I don’t want to be fat? because I don’t. I personally don’t find a fat ‘me’ attractive. No it’s not about a fat person, it’s about a fat me. I don’t want to see a fat me.
1:58 AM, it’s almost two, I should sleep, but I wont, I feel restless and I suppose that’s normal, because I am eighteen going on nineteen and soon I’ll be twenty, a *** and a shame. Where is my life heading?
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 2:01 PM UTC
From every docile rose petal
to the sturdy bark of the tree
From every rolling green meadow
to the wondrous and restless sea
I am the world
and the world is me
From every barren forest
to the city blanketed by smog
From every oil-tainted ocean
to every abandoned industrial cog
I am the earth
and the earth is me
From every blood stained uniform
to the bullet-ridden bookbag
From every obliterated home
to every desiccated flag
I am the world
and the world is me
From every line of B’reshit
to every Ramadan Feast
From the hymns in the West
to mediation in the East
I am the earth
and the earth is me
From every stolen breath
to every broken heart
From every sharp word spoken
to all of our falling apart
From the joyful triumph
To the shamming defeat
I am the earth
and the earth is We.
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 2:07 AM UTC
Where do I belong on this scetchy line?
Laying here all I am aware of is a stomach
Singing in my room I imagine myself a perfect star
Getting ready for an event
all I see is flaws blinding my view of the mirror
Ready to go out and have fun I only feel confident
Walking with perfection passing me
and I feel like I'm a a grape in a box of raisins
I decide not to care how I look to others
Then I see a magazine shamming a beautiful woman
Someday I will find peace with myself
By then will I be skinny and beautiful?
Or will I be actually happy with the way I am?
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
Your name was the sweetest honey,
but now it taste acid.
You harm more than any bottle of acid.
With passage of time,
She perceived that you were a sweet poison.
Now don't come to feed her heart again.
You knew she is fragile,
and you saw she's about to break.
Yet you desired for her lust not love.
You just want to intertwine her body,
while she urged to tangle your mind.
She loved you,
she consumed you so candidly.
now she tore your shamming love apart,
And knitted the scar you left.
You were never her cup of tea.
still she's not lost.
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 7:27 AM UTC
#ACT VI
EXEUNT Hafez the Turk with Borbognoni.
Eratocles to Lesbia as he faces the other occupants:
'Mad passengers on Life's untimely main
With boarding pass, who signal to the plane,
Such sad and paltry virtue as you're due
Would yet an airport's tower misconstrue;
That pilots and their air-controllers may
In congress, or in *********** delay
(Desirous yet of wings they fain possess)
To mount the air—with each bright stewardess
Their forms and then their maidenhood address . . .
Out, Out. Such trash ennobles none but thee;
'For craft shall ever land as birds must fly—
Checked luggage fill the hold when drinks are served;
And whether prey or falcon take to sky,
The crew must make our passage well-deserved;
Though lightning rend the night all 'round th'plane
And flame, as to a spleen, thy fevered brain.
Perchance you hope the pilot to dissuade,
Whose path through trackless wastes your flight directs.
Your shamming virtue tarnishes your blade
And though your flight be cut, it fain connects
That shining port of entry that you seek
Where love's most noble strength is rendered weak.'
'Away. Methinks the cabin crew I hear:
Fair Lesbia—have you my passport ?'
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 2:38 PM UTC