"unfeedable" poems
O America, wake up from your dream.
Your top of the hill
Perception.
I plead, awake.
Awaken from your false beliefs, your
Warped view of the world.
Believing it is yours to buy and
Consume, while others starve.
O America, I see your shadow,
Cast over your deprived. A desperate
Attempt to hide the desperate,
The lost and the depraved.
The waste of your creation,
Left to wallow in the filth of
Your existence. The broken
Pieces of your people. Invisible
to your people.
O America, I see your wretched youth.
Apathetic and sadistic, desensitized by
Your lifestyle. Enslaved by your media
to buy any which way.
Your whorish children, your joke of a generation.
Raised like cattle in shameful schools, reared in
Broken homes. Self destructive and stupid.
O America, turn off your television prophets,
Preaching their gospel of guilt in exchange for
Credit card numbers. Bastardizing science
And teaching bigotry.
Protesting human rights and feeding fallacies,
Indoctrinating children with fearful remorse.
Extorting their sheep to build their steeples,
Making sin out of human nature.
O America, I pray,
Wake up from your nightmare.
Before you collapse upon yourself, before
You're swallowed by your unfeedable mouth.
Arise, before you die. Cut the strings that
Manipulate you like a puppet. Reject society,
The cultural cancer.
O state of damnation, awake.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 4:59 PM UTC
Not the first thing to come to mind
Hidden in the back of your head,
A fragment of once passed,
I am almost forgotten.
Not that I ever knew much about
The touch of your breath or how it felt.
Stripped from presence, I only knew,
From a far what I felt and saw.
Day after day, every next day's the same.
You with your own, and me on my way.
Rarely, and not lately, our paths intersect.
And you, don't have a clue, that you live in my head.
Just so you know -
I don't mean to persuade, ****** flatter,
Or somehow try to appear to you and start to matter.
My image for you is of something greater.
It's just an unfeedable hunger,
An irresistible need, a longing,
And nothing other.
It's just that the thought of you
Brings a calm feeling and creates
An undisturbed peace and happiness in my mind,
Where I find solace, balance, help and a lending hand.
And on those rare moments where I glimpse in your life
I spend my day in joy,
Because I get to taste yours,
A second life, other than mine,
Sometimes, I am even jealous for what you have and are.
It's really nothing much, don't mind it all, at all.
You're just the highly unlikeable wish to happen to me.
That pumps in me together with the rhythm of my heart.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 6:22 PM UTC
Not the first thing to come to mind
Hidden in the back of your head,
A fragment of once passed,
I am almost forgotten.
Not that I ever knew much about
The touch of your breath or how it felt.
Stripped from presence, I only knew,
From a far what I felt and saw.
Day after day, every next day's the same.
You with your own, and me on my way.
Rarely, and not lately, our paths intersect.
And you, don't have a clue, that you live in my head.
Just so you know -
I don't mean to persuade, ****** flatter,
Or somehow try to appear to you and start to matter.
My image for you is of something greater.
It's an unfeedable hunger,
An irresistible need, a longing,
And nothing other.
It's just that the thoughts of you
Bring calmness and create
Bits of tranquility in my mind,
Where I find solace, help and companionship in thought.
And on those rare moments where I glimpse in your life
I spend my day with a grin,
Because I get to taste yours,
A second life, other than mine,
Sometimes, I am even jealous for how distant we are.
But that's how you grew on me, and that's all we are.
You grew roots on my loneliness from very very far.
You grew together with my experience, me growing up.
You hold ground only in the world, that borders nothing but my skull.
It's really nothing much, don't mind it all, at all.
I don't think I'd ever get involved in your real life after all.
You're just a highly improbable wish, I'm not quite sure I wish.
You're a daydream, you're a thought,
A flyby memory, a comfort imaginary.
My muse, my fairytale,
In my perfect deck, you're in the back of every card.
The face on my cereal box.
Your image pumps together with my heart.
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 4:40 PM UTC