Cynic Poems - Poems about Cynic

History is replete with examples of the incomplete. Which is why we have historians – or should they be called restorians? Theirs is the patient art of piecing history back together, what men and time put apart, with results not much better. ...

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Some label me as cynical, they do declare Claiming I dwell in life's shadows, ignorant, unaware They brand me a heretic, unconventional, a lost soul Believing in living, death, then stating, “who knows”? But I'd contend my perspective is clear A truth-seeker's path, devoid of any fear The divergence between us is stark, yet small You have complete faith, I crave evidence,...

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CYNIC He was Dean of the university’s College of Creative Malfeasance, including the Schools of Business, Law, Information Technology, Marketing, Economics, Theology and International Relations! His son was more sinister He was a minister in the Church of Confederate Christianity, a denomination that is anti-family, anti-immigrant, anti-democratic, anti-Semitic, racist, pro-gun and absolutely pro-life, perpetually in the courts, perpetually in the news and social media, perpetually in...

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People flocked round badly hurt Paul, Ten minutes ago had a fall While he was playing rough football... And they had to a doctor call, Then with chess players in a hall, Loved more than the card's near a mall "No! His treatment not in this hall, For not being ethical at all... Some First Aid and then my clinic... At...

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Love is the rebuttal to a cynic Who holds we're only true to selfish ends, Patients at some existential clinic Inside for reasons no-one comprehends For madmen have no cause to make amends Weak-minded men seek out what serves them best The coward dreams of karma and pretends while lunatics take all and damn the rest Personal survival's not the quest for individuals always...

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That could not make you happy. But it does, I say. It really does! What kind of joy do you get out of it? I do not know, but it keeps coming in giant waves. I cannot believe you waste this kind of time. It uplifts me, I could do it for hours, I love it. I could never waste time...

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I am in awe of everyone else. They seem to have their act together. They live in houses not filled up with junk. They have perfect lives. Their children are not punk. They are not on drugs. They have no diabetes or cancer. I am going crazy with envy. For they are all perfect and I am not. They were all plucked from...

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Not a good year for the roses Cut price Valentine roses languish in black buckets heads drooping like a rejected lover Calorific candy confectionery in boxes covered with cardboard love hearts... still waiting to pass ruby red lips ‘Be my Valentine cards’ now half price - buy yours ready for next year! 2/15/19...

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Alarming heart wrenching (stabbing non-abating with genuine appall ling brutality) zing across screen, or in print exacerbating forcing, imposing viewer, and/or reader to revisit atavistic primal past activating 21st century *****sapien to experience (albeit...

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The usual tat overflows on the shelves Such items we’d never buy for ourselves Chocolate hearts wrapped in shiny red plastic At a seven pounds each the prices are drastic! A fluffy teddy bear that’s clutching a heart It reads ‘Darling I love you, we’ll never part’ Sexy underwear that’s so uncomfy to wear With so little fabric you’re practically bare! Deep in...

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A sonnet for cynics, for Valentine's Day The Cynic speaks of Love; What lie is this But lust dressed up in silky swathes of lace In pretty words, and promises of bliss Come pouting in her petticoats, her face All flushed with rouge and scarlet on a smile With kohl around her cold come-hither eyes Come lie with me, my love, a...

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Love I see it piled sky high on the supermarket shelves Perfect pink packaging containing calorific chocolates and cute cuddly toys, seductive scents or sexy silk underwear Slushy Valentine’s cards with ridiculous romantic rhymes Stick on a cardboard heart and it's not just the vendor who is smiling! A sea of red roses that stretches as far as...

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Number 7: CYNIC Who can forget a liar Or a peace maker's sigh Who lights a burning fire For reasons who knows why Leon Enriquez 20 December 2014 Singapore...

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I think the sonnet form is almost bare Of interest in this modern world so fast, TV commercials keep us in our chair And all we're taught to value doesn't last. Our friendships are as vapid as our schemes And fortune jeers to think we'd ask for more, We throw away our honor and our dreams Like babies loose inside...

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I think the sonnet form is almost bare Of interest in this modern world so fast, TV commercials keep us in our chair And all we're taught to value doesn't last. Our friendships are as vapid as our schemes And fortune jeers to think we'd ask for more, We throw away our honor and our dreams Like babies loose inside...

Continue reading...