"untruthfulness" poems
Deep. The day wears the crown of untruthfulness
Up above the weather bears the trademark of deceit
shallow mind of a betrayal and they said
Run away run fast
don’t look back
short paths cannot be taken
narrow paths changed the plan of this traveller
No funds to pay for chariots
Run away run slowly but run fast
Words of My lover in the letter
Memories of affections
waves of distractions across the sea
debts of homages not paid
The old neighbours laughed last night of
Old jokes from the old man saying
Run away Run fast as you can because the fairy tales only comes when the full moon is out
If the moon won’t come in full tonight I will wait till the morning when i will see the sunrise
I am not running from My destiny
I am not staying with my doubts
All i want to do is feed on the power of positivity .
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 7:38 PM UTC
And she talks while my hands shiver
She’s a lie
She’s a lie
She’s a live representation of untruthfulness
A great portal of unworthy in-transparency
A grand stand of podiums and microphones
Flat screen tv’s
With radios and horns pumping your blood to your brains
Blocking your sight
And vision
Rocking impure notes
Of Dead metal
She’s a lie
My love is a lie
My love is a lie
Shedding tears on what she stole
Breaking my heart and taking it all
Spring time flowers and I fall
Beneath the trees
of beautiful regret
And powerful surrender
Trees that I used to climb
To look at her window
And see the angel of death never so beautiful
She’s a lie
My love is a lie
My love is a lie…
She turned out to be a democratic state
A hypocrite dictating my heart
Controlling my thoughts and my work
My wild imaginations…
Deciding my past
Exiting my present
Ending my future
She’s a lie
My love is a lie
My love is a lie
All the big people we are
And we accept our lies
The created trickeries
To satisfy our needs
To be taken care of
While we take care of our own commonplace matters
And one of them is you
Because you’re a lie
Everyone’s a lie…
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 7:30 PM UTC
I am remorse
in a physical form
I am love
in all my actions
I am thunder
expressed in words
I am happiness
in my untruthfulness
I am life
in all forms
I am the movement
of a speckle
I am gravity
pulling ugly women
I am a death ray
creating worlds
I am a dragon
pierced by a sword
I am that sword
piercing a dragon
I am a ghost
of myself
I am
Nothing
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 7:20 PM UTC
These Olympics are lame.
Full of untruthfulness.
They say Usain Bolt
Is the fastest man alive.
Thats total fantasy.
Everyone in England knows
it was my uncle Willie.
A coal miner in northern England
In 1958.
He did the mile in One minute
Fifty two seconds in his pit boots no less.
When he fell down a mineshaft.
Jude
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 9:59 AM UTC
I'm so inarticulate when I glance upon your face. I find myself lost too deep within you to make it out whole. I've been tracing your effigy everyday, in the back of my mind. You're consuming me like a fire set ablaze in the deepest ravines, that I carved with loneliness and pain. Ravaging everything around me with thoughts of wonder. Enchanted with the way your fingers look in the jacket with three brass buttons. Yearning for your acceptance, I feel juvenile compared to you. The sun continues to rotate and I casually slip into an everlasting dream in which you are the stars. I thought I was ready to love someone but I have fallen back in my feelings. I wish to know you, I would give my mortal soul to know your touch for a thousand lifetimes even just if it was one fleeting moment. Verging on tears, I'm more lonely than I have felt in months. Engulfed in the dismay, I simply wish I could captivate you, the way that I have woven you into every fiber of my being, simply by accident...it all feels natural to me. Stricken with the knowledge that you will tire of me, minutes, hours, months till everything I have encompassed means nothing to you. The leaves in fall won't remind you of my favorite season but of the dying facade I left behind. My untruthfulness will linger in the air, acrid and heavy. Untruthful when I told you I didn't care. Untruthful in the thought that I didn't have hindsight to part ways with you before I watched you drink yourself up to ask me for my number. There is nothing for me to lull myself to sleep in the early morning when you lay heavy on mind. There is nothing that quells the ache set cavernous in my bones, torrid against the flesh that houses my emptiness. There no outcome from this where I will ever be a whole person again.
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 8:43 AM UTC