"superficiality" poems
*Wildflower 'neath a
giant weeping willow,
comforted by the shade
her fragrance wafting darkly
whispered into the wind ~
she'd been 'betrayed by the sun',
frail tendrils blistered
of indiscretion below
burning discrimination,
fallen neath the cracks
suffocating a delicate essence,
she could no longer bear the
deep-rooted superficiality
of seeds buried within *****
little implanted secrets*
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 10:07 AM UTC
I am not in the business of being you
or him or her or they
we doesn't even really interest me.
you hated me within the first 20 minutes
like a shallow predator
experiencing virginal danger
you have the limbic system of a prey
obvious to anyone in touch with their senses.
you were threatened-
you cracked a joke and among
the robotic laughter and among
the generic thoughts
I stood back, blank-faced
a novel piece of art you haven't the ability
to muster up the courage to understand.
aloud, I said it wasn't funny
which I'm sure your emptiness already betrayed
in a booming, and terrifying fashion
*(I'm an intellectual sadist-
I get off watching you squirm)*
you know enough, that you have no basis
that the status quo is the stale stream you do nothing but soak in.
you're superficiality is so pervasive
that your thoughts are unfilled, plastic
discarded long ago by anyone with stamina
(you're a carbon-copy of a Xeroxed person)
looking the same as the others of your degenerate breed
with much less vibrancy than the original
and far less worth.
your boundaries have been in place for so long
passed down by
generations
of
generations
of
generations
great-great-granddaddy's barbed wire is the only thing protecting your prejudice.
you're not funny- you're scared
ashamed and lonesome.
ashamed of the person you wish you could be
but don't have the strength-or the guts
to morph into
lonesome because even yourself is someone you don't feel close to
you are so basically human.
I have no pity.
for you are no Muse.
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 10:07 AM UTC
The greatest challenge my nature presents:
Love is harder to find
Hate is easier to find
Within myself and others
Is rejection different for me?
Everybody seems to know the pain of being unwanted
And idle threats and empty words are no stranger to rejection
But when you say you'll **** me if you ever see me again
The intention is clear
The existence of my attraction
Is grotesque beyond redemption
I thought I loved you...
When appreciation comes my way
It's superficiality amuses me
Because I know all that needs to happen
Is breaking down the wall to my mind
Or unlocking the door to my heart
And those appreciators will transform into detractors
Especially if the hideous leviathan approaches their vessel
Not finding women gross frustrates me
Because I have no reference point
For why people hate me so much
Which provides a reference point
For why I hate myself so much
It's difficult not to be dominated by this damnation
But there's no way people could understand
The daily subtle nuances
Why should they?
I don't constantly consider their lives either
Even if someone tried to comprehend my life
I'm not sure it's possible
I've been here the whole time and I'm still massively perplexed
I display my emotions
Disgust
I shroud my emotions
Indifference
I **** my emotions
Hatred
Is there no escape?
Even with sanctuaries along the way
Life feels like
Everybody swims in the ocean
While I'm resigned to my lonely oasis
Is it possible to feel more alone than completely alone?
Like a cockroach consigned to living under the refrigerator
It gets so cold and dark down here
I forage for crumbs only at night
Mortally afraid of human contact
For I know that the boot follows the light
And why not?
In a world where our priorities obstruct our compassion
How much consideration should a real human show
to a lowly maggot like me
When they have to worry about paying the exterminator?
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 4:16 AM UTC
Self-esteem forms a comparison,
One that is typically a brutal report.
Giving yourself a low grade,
A rating which crushes confidence.
Analyzing tracts through superficiality,
Viewing self from a blurry lens.
Seeing ugliness when beauty shines likes a princess,
Detecting stupidity when the mind is as sharp as a knife.
The flaws you catch in the mirror are false deception,
Witnessing myths of your imagination.
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 7:02 AM UTC
Those moonrise eyes, that darling stare.
You could glare at me all day, I don’t even care.
Smile like violets, laughter like beer,
My head swims when you’re far away, scuba-dives when near.
Walk the streets of superficiality with me,
And we’ll roll our way downhill until we love ourselves to sleep.
I’ll love you straight to sleep.
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
In a world filled with,
Boisterous lads,
Vivacious girls,
Who would see our lonesome wallflower?
In a world filled with,
Discrimination, anger and carnage,
And people who are so savage,
Who would see the kindness,
Who would see the sweetness,
Of our lonesome wallflower?
In a world filled with,
Superficiality, selfishness and disdain,
Where soon humanity shall not remain,
Who would see our lonesome wallflower?
People see what's outside,
To them, exterior is what matters;
Nobody can see the substance inside,
Of our lovely, lonesome wallflower!
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 1:24 AM UTC
There is nothing here
Not the façade of a façade
Can’t you see our idea fading?
We thought we were Hobbes’ Leviathan
The modern alchemists of state
We’re nothing more than rodents!
Scurrilous, maladapted membranes
Spewing from democracy forth
Ought they to encapsulate us?
They must needs encapsulate the naïve!
Whiling away at the trough as though livestock
I’m to be ground on the wheel regardless;
Nay, stretched on the rack of modernity!
By the comforts of progress and superficiality
Sought after as if vital
By the people, “We the people!”
Rallying cry for throngs, imprisoning themselves
With society, a subtle hocus pocus
The trite, aged argument
Of those who’d force you build your very tenement
Paying rent to breathe,
Countless yet believe
Tripartite consumer, greed and slavery
Surrounding you and me
Separating ignorance from squalor
In a ghetto of the mind
You're right, we're alright
Jul 28, 2010
Jul 28, 2010 at 9:11 PM UTC
Open, oh eye of ones heart
The spiral of desire continues with no end to it, if lies are to pollute the world it is time to purify yourself from them all, one by one.
A hearts eye, sees through lies, but that is not its only purpose in a chest full of light and compassion in which it can greatly be found,
It serves so much more, all sealed uner a truthful surface and a righteous core, careless about anothers looks, the way they speak, superficiality such as shallowness are wiped out by it completely,
The hearts eye sees anothers soul and what they truly are, a judgement far away from personal preferences or falsities caused by instincts of ones heart which are likely to bring light headed frivolity,
It cherishes the good, the beauty of the soul except for wealthy appearance, mavelovence within greedy devilish behaviour and spite,
Projected like a story, the fear of what they see is but of themselves, if such an eye hits a devil right on the head, exposing his treaciousness
What lies behind such a courtain of darkness, may it be good? Evil ?
Come pray by my side, if you shiver from that far away I cannot help you, as sadness clouds your vision in a courtain call of pure grief,
Let me open your eyes, so your wounds may heal.
~ Umi
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 6:19 PM UTC
I stick my fingers in my throat
and throw up a basket of swallowed suns;
under it, my tongue is parched and pinned in place
like a dried house moth on an entomologist’s hand
that nurses it back to life
and demands devotion in return,
a poem in return.
But I have purged the feeling being out of me
like a cold, cold man now averse to the ways of his younger lover
who is alive for all of it — the lust and the starving kisses
and the quiet deaths in the morning only to haunt at night.
I leave letters for my bitten nails without meaning a single word,
and go to lie with the superficiality, the hypocrisy nesting under my tongue.
I have started writing poems again — see where they take me this time
and find myself here, once more
where a fool unpacks her baggage and out I come rolling
like a dead body with a foaming mouth, a brown moth burning under the sun,
a leech that scurries under salt and needles,
slowly eroding like sanity.
She thinks, therefore, she is, they say,
but at what cost? She looks on and pens this poem
with a tiny smile on her lips.
Jul 18, 2022
Jul 18, 2022 at 8:24 PM UTC
Contemplating the dark
With a life neither bright nor stark
Shrivelled and fragile inside
Aiming for wonders of the glorious mind
With the sun peeping out from ominous clouds
Undisguised, yet elusive, towards an onset of doubts
Shrouding any fallacy
Cultivating mere fantasy
And the phantom of a far-fetched imagination
To bring out an electric, yet marvellous sensation
Shut inside a mysterious cage
Grasping poetry like some sage
Aiming for aloofness
While mourning over the senseless
Forever the beauty of words is a myth
Forever superficiality is a filth
The sublime scenery of sunset swish
Warms the heart, treasuring one’s deepest wish
Via the shimmering dawn
The azure sky I so adorn
To sniff the sweet odour of nature
All alone, as solitary as ever, with a hazy future
Nobody can gauge the depth of the imaginary
And taste the splendour of the ordinary
All this simplicity unravels a cosy palace
Where art is sacred; where the aesthetic is a solace
To end up in sensuous poetry
In which there’s no calculated geometry
Where the comfort of spontaneity is soothing
And readiness is but a blessing
For in poetry, a loner like me finds her grace
For via poetry, the solitary is free to embrace
And through the line of a verse, the loner dwells a florid universe…
-07/04/07
Feb 8, 2010
Feb 8, 2010 at 2:11 AM UTC
She’s lovely and petite,
Long flowing blonde hair,
The target of constant
Unwanted attention,
The **** of many crude jokes.
Though you can’t deny it
There is a kernel of truth
To every stereotype.
Shallow. Yes she is shallow.
Shallow as the flood waters
Three inches deep, powerful
Enough to sweep your car
Into a watery grave.
Superficial. Yes she is superficial.
Superficial as the thin layer
Of paint on a Renoir or Monet
Colors translucent and divine
Deep and lustrous
Transporting the imagination
To a world of romance and joy.
Clueless. Yes she is clueless.
Clueless as Sherlock Holmes
As he solves a mystery as dark
And complex as any labyrinth
With nary a clue, save for a trail
Of breadcrumbs and a scent of
Gardenia.
Airhead. Yes she is an airhead.
An airhead like the thinnest of air
Atop the mighty Himalayas where
Holy men choose to transcend the
Mundane and commune with
Spirits subtle and ethereal and ultimately
Unknowable.
The world sees her beauty and perhaps
Only her beauty, but they are blinded
By their shallowness, superficiality,
Cluelessness and a brain wallowing
In the clouds of misty ignorance.
Therein lies the joke.
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 11:48 PM UTC
Josephine, Josephine, Josephine, Josephine
I told you to leave my man alone
Josephine, Josephine, Josephine, Josephine
You did not listen, now you reap what you did sow
Your beauty was beyond compare
But now you're left with half your hair
And he seems to have lost interest in you, Josephine
I told you, "stay away from him!"
But your superficiality won him
Now, as it fades, the spell breaks, Josephine
I always knew my love was true
And without me, he would feel blue
He called several nights to say so, Josephine
Today he's back, regretting he left
But guess what happens, happens for the best
He wont leave love again for lust, Josephine
Josephine, Josephine, Josephine, Josephine
I thank you for trying to take my man
Josephine, Josephine, Josephine, Josephine
He's learnt his lesson - love him truly, only I can!
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 11:29 AM UTC
Ashland is a small town
on a small planet, in an
ever expanding universe.
The people here are bitter
and so is their spit, from
full-flavored cigarettes
and diluted kisses spun
from the lips of significant
others, that didn't listen to their
mothers, and married because of
irresponsible reasons, like personality,
respect, love, and other, 'Jesus, **** me
the **** now, so help me.'
Abstract thought is dangerous--
to the mind it's cancerous.
Alone and thinking about
melancholy shaped memories or
kisses that would echo through
your lungs, stomach, ************* soul.
Don't do it. Don't you invite the devil,
killing yourself is so concrete, it must
mean more than a concrete floor,
hovering above a rumored hell and a
definite uncertainty so delicate that it
eats into you with its sensitive meandering
disguised as beauty but, really, a violent,
violent, murderous host, hoax, fake but
eating your superficiality, programmed by
someone else, telling you it's you.
Ashland is a small town,
aren't we all a small town, inwardly.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 1:30 AM UTC
you told me fear was an illusion made by the devil
to impair our lives and blur our vision
now all i see are flames of fear and my body is burning in temperatures of hell.
i never thought i would use the topic of drowning in a poem
i would always complain about the girls who wrote they were drowning in depression
when their serotonin levels were doing just fine
or the girls who said someone drowned them after breaking the lifeboat of love,
when they can pick themselves up if they use their muscles
but you are the reason i am drowning for the first time,
the cliche, stupid, senseless drowning topic,
you are drowning me in security and structure and formality
i am asphyxiating with security up to my throat, almost vomiting up words of rebellion because of constant confinement
i would rather drown in the ocean because i know there are treasures and unmet species, no restrictions.
i would fill my lungs with the mistakes you don't want me to make because it would give me substance
i would refuse to cough them up just so i could stay underwater without you shoving your beliefs down my throat
you are drowning me in repeating stories about mistakes that are not even mine, you are drowning me with rules, brain washing my mind.
you are stuffing stereotypes into my ears, talking about races, outer images and superficiality.
yes i know genesis and revelation, yes i know matthew, mark, luke and john, maybe you forgot how Luke wrote we shouldn't judge,
and i don't know if you remember how often you **** plants by over watering them.
i told you those plants were teenagers, they had to be left alone, you're drowning everything around you while getting water in your brain too, you're forgetting what its like to float,
probably because you never learned how to properly since you were a little girl
please don't drown me any longer
i don't want to drown people too
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 5:21 PM UTC
Truly.........
the charisma
beguiles and challenges them
truly the sublime force is too irresistible
in attraction and confusion they fake faux condemnation
and in awe the artificialities of superficiality offers sanguine solace
as dim counterfeit pundits give counterfeit commentaries
for who dares say this is one like no other
when to be real is a crime per se
wow! that charisma
truly..........
Truly..........
his charisma
exceedingly shades all others
no one and nothing compares we know
God threw the mould away after making him
cry me a river and build that bridge over troubled waters
for a David walks head and shoulder above most
in truth we see his light but lie we must
when passion voltage overwhelms
its ebb is the afterglow
we live to die
truly.........
Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 5:13 PM UTC
**your demeanor
is highly suspect,
attempting to disguise
malfeasance neath a heart
of fortified wrought iron,
Machiavellian by nature
still, you have your wily ways
like that of the allure of roses
within prickling thorns,
twisted of laughable
frivolous superficiality
and reckoning's bereavement**
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 12:05 PM UTC
I no longer try to impress
I digress
Hoping that what is left unspoken highlights significance
You could be completely faithless
I'd like to think there's some reason for my presence
You're far more simple than me
I foolishly try to win your appease
Even though I know you wish I'd praise on my knees
Your ego leaves you thinking you are godly
To me you reek of voluminous folly
I am left begging for acquiescence
Communications fail and lessen to flattery and Superficiality
I want you to love me
Though I cant be sure on my own behalf I'd implore the same
It doesn't feel like a game though I expect I am being played
I wont falter to your narcissistic ways
We fight until the passion leaves us in a haze
It makes me feel alive when I oppose you and gain such a stance
It beats watching the latest televised programs
If it came down to you or I
I'd surely die to save your life
That has to mean something
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 4:28 AM UTC
you don't dare
unwrap the real gift
hidden under layers of hype
too hard to discover it
beneath mounds of plastic
under the glare of neon
falsities projected
aimlessly scrolling away your soul
Godless Yuletide
Christless Noel
sterile feigned joy
useless worthless feelgood frenzy
sentimental superficiality
televised consumer fables
cute trendy on the screen
market-driven fakeries of fake snow
Mammon's medicated stress-fest
passive-aggressive goodwill
American commercialism
angelic Antichrist malls of lost souls
waiting for the next explosion
trying hard to feel the warmth
in the winter chill
of hearts hardened
against the Christ
of Christmas
unwrap the past
to find the present
in your sold-out future
Christ is Lord
Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
I've seen the world and explored sacred places.
I've opened all my senses.
Seen its beauty and overwhelming glory.
These rose colored lenses.
I've read every book and heard every story.
Spared no expenses.
You might think I'd be happy and content.
Tonight I've realized.
There is one thing missing from my life.
One thing I'll never find with my hands nor buy with my sweat.
One thing impossible to manufacture or imitate.
I've found it before.
Dwelled in it for a moment.
I can't stay forever. But knowing you exist.
I'll be back for more.
It's everything I've adored.
Without i grow untame and bored.
It's what our connection is built on.
It's where our shared spirit was born.
You've shown me your raw nature.
It's pure form.
Your capacity to nurture.
Entwined spirits, our rough edges now smoothed and worn.
My shell you've broken to free me.
A welcomed moment of destruction.
We've tread through the shallow waters of superficiality.
Certainly we've made our introduction.
The soil beneath my feet shifts.
A stumble turned roll.
Down this mountain so steep.
Take me into you. And together
we'll roll in the deep.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
Negativity is not always overtly depressive,
Positivity is not always overtly happy.
Negativity eats away, piece by piece.
It hides in the banal.
Its disguised by layers of colour,
Noise, applause.
Negativity is drip fed, unnoticed.
The bland
The ordinary
The acceptable
Even the comfortable.
Negativity keeps you in your place,
Convinces you
How good you’ve got it,
Fosters no hope,
Breeds joy in superficiality.
Negativity is not a natural state of mind.
No one wants it, yet
Its continually perpetuated by those
Who are blind to it.
Negativity tells you that Positivity is frivolous and childish,
Happy-clappy psycho-babble,
Is an immense effort, an uphill struggle,
A dream, stupid, deluded, unobtainable…
Well, it would, wouldn’t it? Its Negative.
Negativity sets you unattainable goals,
Holds up a false mirror,
Tells you that you need to be
What you can’t be…
But still you ache, drive, strive
To get there,
Concentrating all energy on it,
To the detriment of all else.
Jul 21, 2020
Jul 21, 2020 at 1:42 PM UTC
i haven't been writing.
and i do
and don't
know why.
i haven't been writing
because you
don't deserve it.
you uncaring masses.
cruel souls.
i haven't been writing
because art;
both others And
my own
ceases to carry much weight.
i haven't been writing
because you
who would love me
are the Same
who hate others.
or myself, also,
once you dug deeper
than your questions
veiled in superficiality.
i haven't been writing
because too many
dogs are dying
lately.
i haven't been writing
because i fear
i am fraud;
unable to recognize
my influences.
i haven't been writing
and i don't Know
whether it should
bother me
or not.
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 7:59 PM UTC
A family man, running spandexed and puffing
reaches into the stroller at the crest of the hill
as the day sighs away the last of its dusk
hands a three year old a flashlight
and makes her a secret-wink promise.
*You'll move so quickly on your path,
it's your duty to carry a light with you
to keep you and others safe.*
A stern man and a hot scratchy washcloth
removing a Spice Girls bubblegum tattoo from
the nose of a seven year old, molecule by molecule.
*As soon as you get caught up in superficiality,
that's when you'll make mistakes. Don't make
mistakes that will last.*
A medic man returns from a surgery
from a rural village with more kindness than money.
Lays a basket of apples and a banana loaf on the table
in lieu of a cheque and says:
*There will be opportunities in your life for
your actions to define the kind of person you are-
always take them-
and never forget your common humanity.*
An animal man bursts into the room
with a puppy as new as a sparrow
gamboling, loving, seeking faces and laps.
*When choosing your first dog, look for
one that has more loyalty than shrewdness.
Choose your friends that way, too.*
A tired man breathes deeply instead of shouting
at the quivering teen and the confession of the bumper
and the scratch that shouldn't have happened.
Hurt softly with the truth.... but never with lies.
A romantic man recounts his history
raising his eyebrows at the score of his frolics
and makes me swear to fall madly in like
with every soul who my heart should kiss-
*but Love, reserve Love as the most sacred
of words, deeds, beings. When you Love,
you and he shall become one another,
and be one life.*
A sentimental man wears a silver crown
at the head of his dinner table meditating in
silence after the laughs and mayhem of his
family clan have subsided to the fireplace.
He looks at his daughter.
She looks at her father.
The fullness of her adult face
and Polish eyes reflect in his irises
blue inside blue inside blue inside blue-
making any separation between them
redundant, intangible, like-
mirrors facing mirrors-
as the roots of the
Tree run as deep as soul itself
and he murmurs:
*The day you hear the cry of your firstborn child
is the day you discover the meaning of your life-
and nothing will ever, ever be the same.*
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 6:34 PM UTC
At the risk of being critical
You’re nothing but a criminal.
You take what you want
And even stop to flaunt
You thinking you are pretty
Makes you have no pity.
You take all personal pride
From how you look outside.
You’re as deep as a saucer
And before I go further
Let me lay this fact on you
Most of us are on to you.
We expect so little of you,
It makes it hard to love you.
There’s so little more to see
Than your superficiality.
To be sure your looks served
To attract me so I swerved
And ran along beside you
To learn what was inside you
But imagine my great surprise
To find nothing behind your eyes.
As far as I soon came to tell
It was like I was talking to a well.
But it is okay, cutie, it’s all fine
I’ll just move on down the line
And find someone with a soul;
A personality that is whole.
I will find a person who cares
About more than clothes and hair
You can move on and have fun
With some other image-oriented one.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 12:35 AM UTC
I can't help but be concerned with your every move
with my mind developed in solitude
You move with out care with drunken eyes
Over mornings with an aching sighs
You speak with conviction
A smile with devious intention
But with a fire of daemonious concerns,
An Attention for fallen angels, you learn.
That the reality is not complete
Disconnected from you, and discontented
You elicit change in others providing
Romantic praise in libations of initiations
You gather lives, pressing a piece of yourself
In each intimate encounter – satisfied
That you have made light of their candle
A blue flame of resolving promises
You have kept yourself well
Free, intangible from the intrinsic
Drawing from your own ambiversive nature
Clearing your own torture of monotonous conjecture
I almost lost your reflection
From the diversion of an incidence
Realizing your beauty surpassed superficiality
Through your eyes I see aesthetic sensuality
Jan 23, 2010
Jan 23, 2010 at 2:33 PM UTC