"superficialities" poems
I love old books—
their smell,
soft and softly mottled pages,
font-faces,
and carefully illustrated frontispieces.
My bookshelves are lined:
old copies of ancient classics.
I love buying old books—
the lost treasures they are,
and the lost treasures they hide:
tram tickets,
letters,
notes,
two-dollar-notes,
and scholarly students' scribblings.
I have some books I fear to open
for fear they'll fall apart.
There are some who love old books—
their possibilities,
malleabilities,
and superficialities.
Their bookshelves aren't lined.
But rooms of reams of bunting, and tables of origami.
(or soft and softly mottled picture frames)
They love buying old books—
not for wisdom,
nor connections to ancestors.
They've no fear of giants' shoulders;
whole worlds are torn apart.
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 6:10 AM UTC
There is not much to say about me, I'm very simple and easy going, more than a personality thing is a choice of life. I think the key to life's happiness is simplicity. I'm a rebel and love is the only force that bends me, time after time. I do not tolerate injustices, superficialities, bureaucracies, social inequalities, or organized religion, but I do believe in God. I write, mostly poetry, I attempt to give meaning to life through words.
Some of the things that I like, in no particular order. . . Watch the sunrise, the rain through a window, the glow of the skin when touched by the sun, philosophize with crazies like myself, laugh attacks, have an ice cream as I take a walk, silence (mostly when I have someone to think about), a complicity smile, the mischievous eyes of children =), fall asleep while reading a book, learning how to live with my mistakes, winning a poker game with a really sucky hand, the happiness to see again someone I love, nights where you sing until the sunrises, the tears that fall after laughing super hard, to deepen my toes in the sand, to swim at the beach, dry up in the sun, bohemian nights and red wine, ring neighbor door bells and run for life, the smell of bread in the oven, the land where I was born, the cold weather, much better if I can hug someone I love, playing my guitar, touch my books and remember their content, a good boxing match, to close my eyes and let my fingers run down my piano keys, to sing while I drive, to cook for those I love, passionate people, poets, fighters, and every day the list of things I love grows. . . =)
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 4:55 AM UTC
Reading a slim book of poetry
Of life and it's mutability
Poems from inside of
A safe, cosy middle class cocoon
The words have no sharp edges
To burst the balloon
Poems about flowers
To while away the hours
Between the visit of the vicar
And the next *** of tea
Not poetry for you and me
Or anything like reality
Poetry as a gentle hobby
Like baking
Or flower arranging
Not poetry from the gut
That comes raging
Like fists planted upon the page
Poems of love or loss or rage
But tenderly placing
Each word on the page
Like a delicate flower to be arranged
I don't hate the woman
Who wrote this stuff
For her this obviously is enough
I envy her easy life
It's lack of struggle
It's lack of strife
Perhaps one day it will be me
Writing of such superficialities
When I'm fat, well fatter
Rich and content
And all of my life- force has been spent
I will sit in my garden and smell the flowers
Then while away my hours
On my hobby, writing poetry
Between the visit of the vicar
And my next *** of tea
Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 9:30 PM UTC
“I want to be famous.”
Is what I used to tell my parents.
“Why?”
They’d ask.
“So people will love me”
Now that is partly true,
Who doesn’t want to be accepted and loved by those around them?
But
I have something else to say.
I don’t only long for the people to love me.
I long to stand up for the people who don’t know they’re being taken advantage of.
I want to open people’s eyes.
To show them that there is more to life than
work, or politics, or who’s dating who, or what the **** the Kardashians are wearing today.
There’s beauty in everything, but the media blinds.
I had lost my vision for a while.
I’m slowly recovering.
I used to think of material things.
Superficialities.
Now I think of how stunning the way the light reflects off of the brightly colored walls of my room.
I think of how sad it makes me to see trash littering my city’s roads.
I think of my friends on the other side of the world who are doing their own, normal, mundane, beautiful things the very moment I am laying my head down to rest.
I think of injustices being shoved into innocent faces.
I think of my future and what I plan to do about it.
but I think that little parts of me,
Still wish to be loved, no matter how cruel I know this world to be.
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 12:33 AM UTC
I’m exhausted
Drained by superficialities
That mark a women’s worth.
Pondering questions asked
By those who fear to answer
Because they know the truth.
Ridiculed by baring gifts from God,
A slanted nose or fumbled hands.
Exhaustion are those who embrace;
Embrace scared sanctions from
Others who demonize their faults;
Faults-a rare gift from Mother Nature herself.
That is our testimonial kiss
Dec 5, 2011
Dec 5, 2011 at 1:13 PM UTC
As a false humanist, I deliberately denied the luxury of Being! I could not pertut with sin either, I could not make its insidious difference! It is called the Rooted Hermit Solitude and the daily etiquette-morality; I greet hesitantly between exhibitionist superficial superficialities; like an orphaned little commission kid! Unfortunately, I am more conspicuous than in the East, as I still advertise good manners among enduring partisan idiots and hordes of hands-on jerks!
Who carries the burden of a World as free will on his shoulders in his bloodthirsty eyes depends on its Vulnerable Loyalty! "It's rarely a place if you can find it under glorified debris!" I can't be a consonant or a total dance, at most an existing, selfish cocoa and postmodern! In the rumbling noise of tabloid media, the self-promotion of preserved willows was just enough! I intentionally turn off the rumble of wall-nailed speeches; weakens and tires a phrase that has been pressed and pierced many times, that our common issues will surely change! I even go against a hint of tamed anarchy against a wall!
The armor of our skin can hardly be a protection! Because everyone carries their selfish destiny in their throbbing heartbeat! Retaining loneliness can be the only one where emotions don’t get ***** unnecessarily either! Your environment is also alien to your body: snarling, constantly fake! Nowadays, the medium is crowned by an office and chirping songbirds are appointed hosts instead of minded skulls! A charming baby gaze, and all the stupidity is forgiven! - Color blind producers would be complimented by small-style Nobody!
Measured with gratitude money, those who watch the selfish audience data can already be featured! - Nobody distributes Paul's and Pálne's coins until only the crown of hick shines
Apr 10, 2021
Apr 10, 2021 at 1:57 AM UTC
I was born to superficialities and arrogance
by parents, now divorced
I managed the local Comprehensive down the road
and left with some O'levels in woodwork and home Economics
I grew up watching TV and playing computer games
I like to drink and go out and have spent two weeks in Benidorm
I follow all the street fashion and hang out a lot with my mates
I think what others think and do what others do
So please come and put things in my mind, come sow seeds
Anchor my mind to anything you chose
because you can alter my mind and manipulate my emotions
I don't know who I am, I am available because like you and you
I do not have a mind of my own, I cannot reason and act on my own
all my life I just do what others do or what has been put in my mind
Sensitise me to black, because black has only one reference in my mind
Sensitise me to a love that never was, because I've never loved before
Sensitise me to white because I watch interracial **** you see
Sensitise me to pink, orange and green they only conjure one thing
in my mind
Set up drama and play out scene, it all goes straight to my mind
I am a clockwork orange at your command
Tell me I am lonely and worthless because you know best
Knowledge is power as deciphered by crooks and Extremists
who know we buy into and believe anything they tell us
Make them fat juicy lies and distortion because truths is boring
get us busy with manipulating our minds by telling us we are
manipulating the mind of a clockwork orange
So please fill my mind with ******* sow a thousand seeds
You can manipulate my emotions, you can alter my personalities
I have no self will, I have no self control, I have no discipline
I have no confidence because morons are cleverer than Me
I am just a nobody from the local Comprehensive
I only learn and grow from what you show me, say to me
act in drama in front of me or prompts and triggers dropped.
I am just a clockwork orange, so peel me and squeeze my mind
as you wish
I am just a mindless hooligan wasting my time and efforts in
what the Leaders calls POWER OF THE PEOPLE
They tell me MAJORITY WINS ALL THE TIME, THEY TELL ME
THIS IS POWER!
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 10:22 AM UTC
I cannot pinpoint the moment I felt you,
Not in me and fleeting and exiting,
But within me, burrowing and thriving
Transcending past superficialities
And sailing, reveling,
Deep into some place I cannot see or reach.
You see, it’s been sleeping for a time now,
That unnamed force that inhabits the place.
But what I can do is pick moments,
Scattered like colorful tacks on a map,
Tracking my movements throughout the city
I borrowed for a few days, imagining
I’d return
Like a spontaneous library book
And back on the shelf, considered momentarily
Then gone again.
I didn’t think I’d bring a fragment home,
Aching for the remaining pieces,
The cathartic peace.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 12:44 AM UTC
Let's get down to
The meaning of words
NOT SUPERFICIALITIES!
SoulSurvivor
2022
[10W]
Jan 24, 2022
Jan 24, 2022 at 4:27 AM UTC
Shade into shadow as eventide's darkness
Slips to the call of the curlew by night,
Days amble by in a curtain of sameness
Taken for granted until there's a fright.
Shade into Shadow and thence into blackness
Transition freezes to polar like pall,
Abruptly the curtain curtails the performance
As actors retreat at a horror recall
Shade into shadow in depths descended
A shaking the head as cogniscence takes heed,
Bloodlessly blasphemy curdles the heartstrings
Wrending tomorrow's tendence to bleed.
Shade into shadow as battle lines rendered
Mustering courage, embracing my wife,
Clustering close to the portends that matter
Shedding the superficialities of life.
Shade into shadow and thence into sunlight
Girding the soul with the grace of the day,
Meeting the foe at the edge of the abyss
Hurling him down with his claws of clay.
Shade into shadow extending before me
Light in the lingering tones of the eve,
Positivities beacon is beckoning
Seeking the smile of tomorrow's reprieve.
[email protected]
3 May 2024
May 2, 2024
May 2, 2024 at 11:46 PM UTC
His illuminating personality is,
if anything,
But a thinly veiled facade for the pain that lies underneath.
When looking deeply into his eyes,
just maybe,
You’ll see something I couldn’t.
Some say monster, some say saint;
although unsure,
For all I saw was him,
In his entirety.
As I sit here writing about someone I could barely grasp,
yet he holds me with such force,
The red seeps into a frigid purple,
As my superficialities begin to fade and the real damage is revealed.
The man I loved.
Is who hurts the most, even on his best days.
It’s time for me to end my romanticization with a ghost of a memory.
Life is waiting.
Sep 10, 2020
Sep 10, 2020 at 8:26 PM UTC