Long In reality Poems
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Existence before essence as Sartre said
Xylographed from fountain and ink pen
In wood words intentions and meaning
Sculptures of thought bound in reality
Telescoped into prisms of here and now
Entropy thrown in for good measure
Nothing is impossible do what you wish
Take what is yours and not what they say
It is not freedom from but freedom to do
A chocolate needn’t know why it tastes goods
Leave the wrapper for the end enjoy while it lasts
Surrender to incredible living for real action
Water mouth-watering pleasures and leave
Essence as an afterthought as ex post factual
Enter phenomenal existence and be authentic
To choose responsibility over dogmatic faith
Saunter and take in the fleeting moments to live
07th February 2021
'Existence comes before essence' is the main tenet of
Jean Paul Sartre's existential philosophy
Emotional Demons
These entities are never seen, nor speak a word
Though they communicate in a way, never heard
They prey upon feelings of fear, anger and pain
They find you, when you are weak to fight again
These demons seek nothing more than just your mind
Like a predator, they just wait and leave nothing behind
When least you expect, they come to seek you out
To tear apart your confidence and strew it all about
Vulnerability is where they call home
The human psyche, theirs to call there own
Past regrets and sorrows they just love to share
Your emotions, will make you painfully aware
These internal battles can explode, yet be so silent in reality
That invisible armor we wear to protect our vulnerability
Showing many stress points from the burdens we carry
From all the many internal strife that we chose to bury
Each of us carry within, some of these emotional demons
Some carry these burdens for the right and wrong reasons
Perhaps these just mere echoes within your subconscious mind
Lost within reality, in your innermost deepest thoughts combined
Try not to give into these emotions, they serve you no good
These inner turmoils can teach, if the lesson is understood
The conflicts that rage within your external and internal voice
Are there to remind you, that you will always have a choice
There will always be internal battles that rage on within our minds
There will always be some conflicts and confusions of many kinds
Truly these are the signs of an inquisitive mind and a open heart
Allow these small battles have their day, but never tear you apart
Men get lairy and repeat this bull
"know that I know a lot of people"
an empty threat of purest simple
tells of the fact they're a weak fool
and blokes repeat this line every week
cus they cant beat you up they're a geek
they know nutters mad men and some freaks
cus they can't beat you up they're too weak
In reality it's somewhat witless
when a man can't handle his own business
personalities shouldn't make hitlists
thinking it's a beating they'll witness
because when I think you're out of place mate
I stand square and speak straight to the face
then without wait hastily demonstrate
my way of putting you back in your place
To all who claim that they are always here for me,
whenever I need to reach out and seek support from anybody.
All of you, and I mean all of you are all hypocritical phonies,
who just want to feel good about themselves selfishly,
convincing yourself that you're helping one in need,
when all of you couldn't care less in reality.
When I am attempting to pour my heart out with great difficulty,
Shut Your Freaking Mouth, and just listen to me.
Allow me to complete a thought or sentence at the very least.
Don't be so driven to hear yourself talk so eagerly,
because the message you are sending to yours truly,
is, "I'm not listening, I'm not interested, I just want to talk on endlessly."
Allow Me To Express My Grief Openly,
without getting interrupted by your annoying voice continually,
and that's just the hypocrites I've dealt with personally.
To the rest of you out there, the assholes of many,
who claimed, "I'm here for you Bill. I would die for you Billy."
I never asked anything from any of you previously,
but when I asked all of you a small favor that was important to me,
a task performed literally costless, conveniently and effortlessly,
not one single response from my so called family or friends, not any.
was received from any of you bastards and bitches, not one of you phonies.
So I guess what I'm trying to express here in it's entirety,
is Screw All Of You Mother Screwing Phonies, SCREW EVERYBODY!
Every MotherScrewing One Of You, STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!
I’m trying a new refreshing write
My blessed Soul word out of sight
Maybe my view should truly change
Having a good look at new poetic range
I don’t want to upset the infamous P.D.**
The one who’ll police me in 3D
Undercover poet, that apparently is not?
If I reach for my pen, he’ll take his shot!
On the run with out my needed soul
I better hide in that deep dark hole.
As he Ass kisses all those lovely ladies
Maybe he wants to have their babies??
Taking advantage of his poetic power ;-)
I bet in reality he’s as sweet as a flower!
What horrid word’s I use without my belief
If I get caught, he may smash out my teeth!
A poet on the run from a cop so hot?
In P.Ds eyes, a poet, that I am not??
To be or not to be, that is his question?
Fountain Pen to my head, I’ll sign his confession!
Banged up in this inspirational cell
“Not a poet” written on walls of limerick hell
“P.D waz here “ plastered for all to see
As soon as he reaches for his pen, you better turn and flee!!
(Welcome and embrace our new Poet friend
I’ll love and embrace him until the end
I trust he’ll visit my poems, and call them crap
That’s my plan, body armoured up, ........I’ll just have a nap.)
**Poetry Destroyer
Only Kidding P.D. And welcome :-)
Obviously, i can't tell you what form this is!!
Form:
If HOME is where my story began,
There are things that are hard to understand.
And if such things are really true,
There are many things I never knew.
After many years, supposedly, I went HOME
To the place where for years I used to roam.
When I arrived and looked around, I cried inside.
I felt strangely alone, like I no longer belonged.
Supposedly, because when I arrived, my HOME was still there.
Supposedly, because there was no one I knew, and the HOUSE was not there.
Supposedly, because HOUSES once filled with life, and made things
look and feel like a lovely little town, were removed or torn down.
Yes, HOME was there but only in my mind, in the form of my many
childhood memories, the kind of family treasures recorded in diaries.
But I was sad and felt lost, and in reality, there were losses.
Everything I once treasured there had been completely tossed.
It was painful, and like a sponge, I absorbed what I felt and saw.
Like having been robbed, I felt cold as ice that was hard to thaw.
If HOME is where my story began,
Why is HOME so hard to understand?
072522PS
HAIKU is the ' phonetical&cultural original 'in Japanese'& in reality uses '17 'onji' (sound symbols)rather than syllables ,&traditionally written in Japanese as a single line
whereas
HIKU is the English language tristich (three line) version(including translations)with similar economy of words including the THOUGHT PAUSE prompt (often indicated by an ellipsis .....the SENSE PAUSE the aesthetic point of insight flowing from perception & ONE BREATH LENGTH to correspond to the aforementioned Japanesese 17 onji sounds.
The essence without "telling all" (thereby to ' show ' conforming to the key of all true imagist poetry),&avoids 'as'&'to' & the use of past tense verbs (& is often without verbs,adverbs,adjectives )A verse freed from strict syllabic constraint within its triplicity of format& is inherently enigmatic & often with a caesura and surprise ending( VERSUM )to give a 'turning' to the line.The hiku maybe a horizontal single* line,(often broken at the caesura),a vertical line(usually a painting(haiga see note) ,a couplet** or a tristich***
*strand by strand decadence unravels moral fibre
**a dew trail across the lawn...
' neath the shed winter quarters
*** a blue plume rising
from camp ashes-
yesterday's visions still haunt
NOTE :HAIGA can be seen @ haiga-ichthys.blogspot.com/
Darker shades of wealthy black
turn to sinking red,
the world you knew abandons you,
just like the nay-sayers said.
You’ve got no leg to stand on,
can’t reap what’s not been sown,
crash course in reality,
how’s it feel being on your own?
Faces with their leering smiles,
look like wolves at prey,
sizing up their latest game,
before it’s time to play.
You’ve got no home to run to
and your dollars number few,
bitter flavor of reality,
it all falls down on you.
Pleading loud to change it all,
making it your cause...
sorry kid, the world goes on
by strict, unchanging laws.
The choice to face it always comes,
and better it comes quick,
the longer you fake reality
the more you're screwed by it.
Discrimination of human being over the years
It was an un answered question for me for all these years
I have been searching ,asking ,finding the answer
For all these years
I have found an answer to myself
Happiness is the prime key,aspect for a human being to discriminate the other..
Yes ,happiness is the key factor for discrimination
Human finds happiness in degrading others in terms of character ,in terms of culture.
Caste discrimination in india
Color discrimination in America
Country might be different but the character of human will be the same ,The gene behaviour is the same ,human being happiness lies in discriminating the others..human gene never likes equality .
The adenine thymine guanine cytosine likes no equality discrimination lies in the genes..
Happiness is the key for all human being who have been discriminating others over the years.
Human gene likes no equality..
human likes discrimination in reality
It all could have been less serious,
more fun and played with more exuberance,
but like the lone tragedian
with his oft repeated dramatic scripts
we played ii out as an adversity,
a roll call of regrets.
We could have spent more time
doing nothing much in a more magnificent way.
Silence and patience
were never virtues, just a signal of ennui.
We could have enervated more days,
spent more time knocking over
sacred cows, or just being a happy jerk,
then writing a thousand poetic apologies
to a thousand strangers.
Speaking of ‘strangers’ a few more
jovial greetings and ‘how de do’s’
might have been the way to go,
more love letters and passion
just for sake of the spirits exaltation,
but no, we had to be the serious ones,
bespectacled and intense
the wise pretenders to a hoary old wizards throne
long abandoned by more astute jesters.
We imagined we were a sober business,
worthy of much studious scrutiny,
when in reality
we were just a walk on and walk off part
in a vaudeville show.
A place were the choice
between being a big banana
or a small sour grape was the only question.
At least let’s leave this stage
with an exaggerated clown walk,
and if we can’t quite bring ourselves
to laugh at the silliness of the human race,
then let us start and end with ourselves
as we wave a red-nosed goodbye
to a stunned and probably dead-pan crowd.