"underhandedness" poems
Hanging at the end of
Strained rope
Swing my lost ambitions
And desires
My sanity swaying in the
Cruel winds of
Loveless night
Just a square peg
Confronted with
A round hole
Dropped anchor on
The shores of insanity
It seems so beautiful here.
I must create my own world
As my place in this one
Does not seem fitting
Genius is wasted
Upon the buffoonery
Of mass ignorance
Intelligence shunned
Brilliance and uniqueness
Frowned upon and cast aside
For the normality of uninteresting
****** zombies
The painfully intelligent
Forced into subversion
Hiding their gifts
For fear of being outcast
Men who cling to the faults
Of their fathers
And stories of stir crazy, house wives
Cabin fever was invented
To thin our stock
We all toy with the desire
Forcing blind eyes
Into the faces of
The gifted
Substance abuse is often a malady
Of the painfully intelligent and artistic
Drowning my will to be weird
My own underhandedness
Innately forcing my inner self
Beneath a cloak of politeness
This world
This living theater
Where we all assume
Our own role
Where our actions are
Transcribed
And cast upon us
Like stones on the river
I have grown tired
Of acting the fool
Prepare myself
For a new role
A starring role
Have you ever felt
The wonderment of déjà vécu?
And the sorrow of knowing
You belong to another time?
I need the exhilaration of a time
When life was simpler,
Yet more confusing
Was Judas the only one Christ trusted
To deliver him to his fate?
Is the human race too cowardly
To be welcomed in the arms of a deity?
Are we too ignorant to recognize
That is has already occurred?
Are we the last remnants
Of an experiment gone wrong?
The plague of the human race.
Devouring consciousness
Eliminating uniqueness
Evolving into our own demise
One too many mutations gone wrong
Retching in the soiled undergarments
Of our father's sins
Reveling in the untold lies
Of mother's milk
I have soured on this world long ago
Bounding for higher consciousness
Looking for the unseen
Searching for the undiscovered
Drug sideways
Through the sludge
Of society
Screaming wildly
Through the entirety
The gene pool would benefit
From a healthy dose of chlorine
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 12:52 PM UTC
It's the conspiracy to conspire,
Think of how the fist or flies feel,
The most enticing truth,
Astonishingly mouthwatering,
Turns out smoke and mirror,
You see, because behind the window paned,
skeleton of steel and wire,
Underneath there is commerce,
In the webbing of marrow, worldwide underhandedness,
Something is always being sold,
What better way to take power away,
Then having scheduled rebellions,
The greatest put on,
Our system only works under thumbs,
from the backdrop works the crippled puppeteer,
behind his blank, vagrant, expressionless lenses,
Behind the grey skin and swilled organs,
Attached to the oil drum veins,
Beats the very same heart of Moloch!
Nov 21, 2012
Nov 21, 2012 at 10:20 PM UTC
How we sell ourselves short so often
We tell a fib or a little white lie
To avoid conflict
To save face
For a greater good
What a fallacy
A lie is a lie
How can one ignore the fact
We throw away our integrity
We don't show true to our character
Or is it that you are a liar ?
The deed itself is deceit
Double dealing
Trickery
Fraud
Underhandedness
Treachery
Oh but to say a few
When done to us we are hurt
Why not have that same integrity we wish be dealt our way?
Cause it's easier?
Is it?
If it's easier for you
Then you have no place near me!
I won't say I never lie!
Oh I have yes!
But it's taken it's toll on me!
I know integrity!
I know it's arch enemy too!
A white lie?
Really is that what we tell ourselves?
It's like getting leukemia
To cure Emphysema!
Ridiculous yeah!
But I'll choose to rather be silent than lie!
I'll be the man I portray!
The man I want to look up to!
I have to try
Or I am just that same as that
diminutive little deed!
A LIE
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 4:17 PM UTC
Another battle awaits as I slay the last trial and wipe off my blade. So much wasted and lost as the ground burns and we fight off another raid. How many have to fall in the war we call life? Death hounds us from birth, following as a menacing shadow just waiting to strike. I've never been a stranger to these drawn out conflicts. Yet this fight for our sake will take more than cunning and wits. More oft than not its underhandedness that wins the day. Not virtue or valor, no prototypical heroes under a sky so grey. For the soldier such as I, trying to keep his honor clean and his blade true. These cold hard facts cast bitterness and leave us jaded, a fate so cruel. In the face of such odds, most would back away and bow. Yet with this heart of passion I stand my ground. The fight can't be won alone, give me your hand and throw me your arms now. For all the fires I'm willing to run through and every opponent I slay to show you. The fight will only be won if you scratch, tear and claw such as I do...
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
Roses announce the bedroom clipped from your thought
dilapidated vintage chandelier shakes with light
we might as well make the moment
when it's that cold outside
the mirror glimpses angles that escape our eyes
Daybreak child
would you be my sleepy wonder?
consumed with life
Grey bleeding into blue eyes shock gives way to wonder
ertswhile Goddess of the night
My angry words have taken the violent locomotive
of the words that fill the books upon your shelf
but that was before
Now lilacs mute the bedlace
the wall's painted sea is our sky
Would you believe all those things I never tell you
or would you spit their underhandedness right back at me?
Mock turtle rhymes the sound your mouth makes when you're giddy
moves lies a breaking sundial
Fingers that are off-white feel to the touch like a promise
And
Now you're a plate spinning on it's side.
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 7:18 PM UTC
there's 3 varieties of rock
scouted from the hillside
at the foot of the launchpad.
I LOAD UP ANGER,
IN ALL OF ITS FROZEN AND FIERY SHARPNESS
WEIGHING DOWN THE MECHANISM
WITH ALL OF MY EXPECTATIONS
TO THROW AT THESE UNFEELING WALLS
to simmer and smoulder
before impact
like a whispered promise.
(i reach for silence)
(the underhandedness catching my fingers)
(drawing blood over the drawstring)
(sending another part of me in its flightpath)
it never reaches the sky
you can't fire a non-feeling
as much as we wish we could.
so-i-decide-to-settle-down-
in-this-trebuchet-
to-see-if-throwing-myself-headlong-
will-let-me-break-through-or-break-me-
The castle walls remain up, the remains of a young man were recently disposed of by the guards, cause of death?
Trying too hard.
Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 7:53 PM UTC
You acquire wealth and power,
At the expense of the masses.
And then you cover your tracks,
Telling us you’re rebranding.
When we catch you in your vile business,
You wriggle out your way, urging for dialogue,
Mutual understanding…
Wails and cries, how long will your people die?
Your silence is enough for us to believe you don’t even care.
You spin the truth, how many more media houses do you intend to buy?
You assure us the evil will be curbed,
And then the next blast, exponentially multiplies our fears…
They run ragged with their belief, satiating their bloodlust,
How long do you intend to bury mutilated remains, body parts and bone dust?…
Ending lives all for the reason that they made the Sign Of The Cross?
Chronicles of fraud, colossal distrust uncertainty,
Underhandedness, all to get the masses misinformed…
How can you let this happen?
How do you live with yourself?
How do you manage to keep sane when your whole life is false?
And all this for what?
When you lie so much, the truth becomes a blur?
In the end, my dear friend,
Like the rest of us, the earth will swallow you whole.
And then, there’ll be no king.
For after death, all your wealth,
All your thrills, comforts and bliss,
Will be noth’…
For you’ll join the assembly of the forgotten.
And like the traveler and the woman of easy virtue,
Vanity will end its fling…
Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 6:33 AM UTC