Long Superficiality Poems
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Percieved Realities.
Realities
We live in a world full of superficiality.
This world, we have created, becomes our reality.
The end result will become humanities fatality.
No one escapes their plot, the play they have created.
The end result ?, - will be what is fated
by their indifference to life, their lack of love
for what has come to them, form here or above.
Superficiality, indifference is a denial of reality,
a reality that will find for them no commonality.
Grounded
I have, I did, I would clip the wings of my ego,
my pride , I have set adrift in stormy seas, let it go
for a desire, for a life time, of you to get to know
far beyond that which you have, you are willing to show.
We have - from time to time - had a moment to touch.
For you , it was to let it slip by - it was to much
to let yourself go, be free, to let yourself come to show
the heart - I still believe is buried deep within your soul.
Denied Pain
I hear the pain, in all the stories - to me you told.
I see you bury your feelings, - your spirit, your ego so bold -
that true feelings, real emotions will never unfold.
Life's experiences have come and made your heart so cold,
hard as steel, made it feel empty and dead.
The only place for you to live, is inside your head.
Indifference, high expections - all have fed,
fueled the fires - no one is good enough to fill desires
you have - I know - waiting in the wings,
never to find - the lyrics your heart never sings,
to your heart, love for you - it seems - never brings,
has never brought to you - except arrows, that stings
the very fiber of your soul.
B.J."A" 2
July 10th 2009
in a perfect world,
we'd accept others
for who they truly are;
we'd be free
of unconscious bias
against those
who look differently than we do.
we sadly have a tendency
to judge other people
based on appearances;
what they wear.
it matters not
the way we choose
to present ourselves
to the world,
our inner beauty
is paramount;
eschew superficiality,
plumb the depth
of the human soul.
The Way We Look Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
Date written: 01/10/2023
Every day the world and the people around us
Want to shape us is their own image
They want us to conform to their standards.
Seldom do we tap into our ow standards of doing things.
Sometimes we need help,
But sometimes we need to lean into our
own wisdom and act appropriately.
But this is hard to do when the mind and the intellect
Is diminished and compromised.
Is this neurological?
Is it based on nature or our environment?
Is it psychological?
I guess it is a bit of all of this and that.
We are ‘off’ when our thoughts and actions
Are at odds with our inner values and beliefs
At odds with our identity, which has nothing to do with
How much money we have or lack
The social status we have or lack
The etiquette and all the ‘right ways’ of acting
According to our station in life.
It is not dependent on who are parents are
Or what side of the track we come from.
Our identity is unique and is found in our very core
And he behooves us to dust it off
Give it a bit of shine and wear the coat of our dignity,
who we are inside, as a badge of honour.
Discovering and sharing our identity is a lifelong project.
But a worthy one if we are to be true to ourselves,
To borrow from Shakespeare.
Long live our identities and may they shine in this world
Which prefers superficiality to the truth.
We are unique and must never forget that.
A BACKWARD GLANCE
Alongside a Chiltern chalkstream
I lay me down to dream,
of country paths,stiles and steep slopes,
those days,long ago,filled with hope;
I dreamed of days of summer sun
when my life had just begun,
climbing trees,cricket on the green,
the first time I made the school team;
Football with coats and tennis ball,
bonfire night fireworks in the Fall,
carol singing through silent streets,
paper chains and Christmas treats.
Crystal clear,vision's backward gaze
brought forth from nostalgia's haze.
Many instant delights can never last
All future certainty lies in the past,
Often distant memories linger so
Nostalgia's balance sways to and fro;
Fleeting and ephmeral is the dream
Yesterday's hero,a today's has-been,
Rose-tinted glasses with short-sighted views
Can distort all perspective,out of true;
Twenty,twenty embellishes hind-sight
But cannot guarantee,a future bright,
Experience forgotten wastes away
As superficiality has its day.
The wheel of life endlessly turns again
Grinding mistakes with perpetual pain.
The imaginary musings of my mind,
experience past & present lingers long,
dusted off,re-opened,viewed from time to time,
retrospective perspective changes all;
Maturity's long-sightedness squints aghast,
then savours the mellowness of memory;
A tear,a smile washes nostalgia's face;
Today will be yesterday,gathering dust,
then filed,microfiched,all too soon forgotten
'til an event unlocks the museum again.
Dull
colours,
long buried-
this sepia
day
Our
childhood
memories-
a forest of
dreams
see
snows of
yesteryear
drifting in my mind.
score
and ten-
looking back,
one day at a time.
TANKA
Spring is cricket on the green
Summer is picnics in the park
Autumn is conkers from the crescent
And in Winter slides on ice
across the schoolyard
Crystalline 57 Nostalgia
The stream where pooh sticks once were raced
now flows into memory's embrace
THE WAKE
Slowly,
nostalgia
trickles into
torrents,to flood memory's
canyon.
LA-DI-DA
There’s an honesty in struggle
Despite pressure to overcome
There are others with privilege
That’s sending a clear message
Still felt very strongly by some
With responsibilities to juggle
Fancy Is perhaps a wrong word
Never for style and celebration
But if it’s used for showing off
Even owning a top hat to doff
Ignoring the echoes of a nation
Only the superficiality is heard
Yet from despair, pride can rise
As one can keep that steely gaze
All stories deserving to be retold
So live the new, not just the old
With the rest of us all to amaze
As humanity is seen in our eyes
You moan about how we say life isn't fair
But it shouldn't have to be fair for equality to exist
Life being fair isn't being born into luxury
Its being rich in safety
An automatic right we all should have
Being rich doesn't always equal wealth
Rich is safety and the lack of doubt
Invalidation is a hobby for you
Something that brings you joy
Until its turned around on you
Complaining how we bring up injustices
How we don't live in a fair society
But then it's okay for you, right?
When you complain how we 'steal' your jobs
Despite us being more than qualified
Ironic how you complain instead of working
But then again complaining is the only job you know
Maybe if you didn't wallow in jealousy you wouldn't moan
But then again as history serves
The only thing you know us how to shout at black people until the crops grow
Or maybe you don't want your mask to show
It's not about jobs, it's about how you try to conceal the feeling of insecurity
That seizes to let go
From the chokehold of being inferior
If you really thought you were superior
Being a try hard is not the way to go
It seems that you are all talk
But needs help to walk
Asking for help is not in your vocabulary
Then again the only thing you know how to do is shout
Or when your voice runs out
You decide being a bully is what it's all about
Gaslighting is your shield
Used only to protect how you feel
Validating your own violence
Whilst being appeased by our silence
Pathetic, that the only way you feel whole
Is by abusing power and control
And yet it's still not enough
Otherwise you wouldn't act so tough
Reality is not made by rainbows and sunshine
It's made by cold hard truths
And these are directed to you
The world doesn't revolve around you
The truth is you are the ones spinning it
It's all about manipulation
And blurring parts of the picture
Unlucky for you we can see through the opaque lies of superficiality
Through the funnel of time, we are hurried like the wind - it doesn't stop to whisper,
Life, swift and silent, flows in rivers of liquid sand.
With each fleeting moment, the profound avoids us, camouflages itself - it doesn't speak,
And we leave behind a grandeur of untouched depths, an unmovable Atlantis.
We are long shadows in hastened dusks, forgetting to question,
Day by day becomes a sea of banality, foam on forgotten waters.
The sentence of our days seems woven from an incurable haste,
We awake with souls wandering, asking why our life is all shattered?
In the boiling of the clock, conversations burn up, leaving only dim embers,
We look back over the dunes of years, seeking an oasis sprinkled with meaning.
Prisoners in the labyrinth of superficiality, where sonorous echoes we do not find,
The years have left us with the regret that everything is now – a dense equivocation.
Ah, we are phantoms running through the corridors of time - mere pulse and dream,
Without stopping to listen to the silence that speaks with us, that sneaks in.
We wonder melancholically where all the moments we missed have gone, so late,
In the end, we seek the others, only when the present has sunk, and we find that everything was a treasure.
Sweet Surrender
Life is transitory impermanent capricious never malignant on its own
Just lessons to learn but full of meaning and lived experience
So when new lovers met they gravitated around the sunny stars
they flattered each other's hearts fluttering away sorrow in dissipated
grief for new beginnings
Slowly but perspicuously he had become another's scapegoat
though when her coat turned
from sheep to wolf’s clothing she dug into his soul with an inurbane
sour smug of superficiality
The other had blamed him took no onus for her inner landscapes alienated
from her vulnerable self and in protracted resolution and
she is now lonely but he dances with his new lover
to a different tune
04th September 2016
Dear Id,
Once again, I find my mind making the same journey into your deepest ocean of questions I can never fathom. So many times I've told myself it's such a complete waste of time to even cast my cares upon your unyielding waters. I have been utterly lost for days at a time trying to find my way back through the labyrinth of my mind. The air feels heavy and breathing has nothing to do with want or desire. For as long as I can remember, my reflection has been as an ever evolving meaningless Rorschach. No identifiable constants, just a tangled mess of emotion with a gaping hole of disappointment in the life experience. I ask myself, "Is this it?" The overwhelming outpouring of human pretentiousness and superficiality leaves me dying of starvation for anything real! Will it even matter? How can I miss something I've never known and be so instinctually convinced there is more? Enlighten me!
Truly,
Frustrated and Unfulfilled
Today many have grown cold
about the seriousness of sin,
they shouldn't be justified
by their superficiality
towards righteousness and morality;
have they denounced
their faith and condoned
all they do without repugnance
when even themselves
are disgusted by their deeds
of pervasiveness?
Why can't sin be eliminated
from defiant minds...
smashing it with anger and become
shattered crystals?
Sin is the rod of lawlessness,
not of holiness:
it's an abomination
in God's angry eyes!
ah, Humanity you have brought
upon yourself punishment,
never realizing how disobedience
alienates you from His blessings!
ah, Humanity your water wells
are dry from the drought
of rainless days and excessive sunlight;
even your souls cry out of desperation!
I sincerely repented for my wrongfulness
being ashamed of my lustiness
of the restlessness inside;
I closed the book of salvation,
and greeted damnation
and overtaken by temptation
I rejected the justification.
Too short were the pleasures of the flesh,
too bitter were the tears of remorse;
too severe were the words rebuked by the conscience...
that constantly echoed to admonish
my uncontrollable behavior burning more than a wildfire.
Why do people fail to see the warning signs,
not thinking about the consequences of their actions?
Why can't sin be eliminated from defiant minds?
Can't they admit that sin is a human weakness...
when not enough resistance prevents deviations?
Why can't sin be obliterated from mean hearts
and erased from everyone's memory by repenting?
How many trials must the righteous ones endure?
Holy, God sitting on the throne of righteousness,
allow all sinners to comprehend the gravity
of their wickedness and mend their abhorring ways;
nobody is free from sin until they are cleansed!