Nihilism Poems

Emil Cioran

I've been fed a prune of life,
Spooned it silver, everlasting.
I spat it out to seek a knife,
To chop and cease it of forecasting. 

The birth is reason as much itself:
Not 'yond the self conceived.
Wrote for book on busy shelf,
Whose tales unread aren't grieved.

Nihilism and Caffeine

You plunge your fist into the creeping
milieu of the ice cube by your ‘20s daydream.

Does it not hurt? but it does, and you quickly
retreat, surrendering to primal, human instinct.

Your skin is not bland, but sticky with fear and blank
expressions and wistful thinking, you disgust dogs.

Does the rainy tapestry’s ambient face not disturb you?
but it does,

Freedom the Lie

It's all in your head. 
It's all in your mind.
One day, you'll be dead.
One day, you'll be hard to find.
We say, "we wish we could fly."
We say, "Give us some time."
They'll work you till you die,
They'll work you till you commit a crime.
Freedom is only in your head.
Freedom is only in your mind

The Beast

I found the monster in the mirror, fleshed stitched with the fear of guilt, a puppet bound by veins. With whispers of rot beneath each breath. 

I fed it well, fed it lies, fed it fear, greased its tongue with my own deceit. Till the shadows spoke in cadence with my voice and I knew

Be Yourself-ish

To be yourself-ish
Or to be yourself-less
That is the question:

It's like not knowing yourself
to be “yourself” that you'll be 
everyone else but you

But knowing yourself
that being yourself
cause all but hurt for you

If they know themselves
they’ll save themselves by
knowing they can't save you

So you think to yourself
To end yourself to
spare them the truth

But don't refuse yourself 
and

Hourglass of Primal Wolf Skulls

Why does he provoke me to anger?

He stalks among us -  with his song -
a wolf's grin

His inimicality beckons 
like a hawk's talons,
luring prey to certain death

Yet he imparts wisdom 
to those who bleed

Beware!

his insights twist 
like a pit of pepper x vipers;
devouring souls He spins tales of survival
and primal instinct
Beneath the façade
lies decay
concealing

Pigeons

Every tourist shares a trait;
they're walking, talking, f*cking bait
Who fog up our Earth's finest places
With fat wallets and fat f*cking faces

If you live in a City or by the sea
I'm sure you'll likely, mostly agree;
These scavengers of our landscape may pay cash
but leave in their wake a disgraceful dash

I admire their carelessness;
why should I have

WORK

How do you feel about; every day,
Usually nine to five,
Doing something that you hate
Just to stay alive?

Your car, your house, etcetera,
The bills that all come too,
Surely everything you need
Depends on what you do

I work to do as little as possible;
F*ck the world and its rules.
I've done whatever the f*ck I like 
For most of my

Tell the Devil

I Feel I've gone from red to black
Tell the devil 
Tell the devil 
Get off my back

I Tripped and fell and acted foolish
I think I'm done 
But I'm still going through it 

I think I'm done 
But I'm still going through it... 

I feel I'm going from Red to Amber
Don't let them think 
You're just

Unraveled

I could fill a bottle with air,  
sunken by liquid depression.    
A matter so densely populated.     
by false hope and worthless thoughts.   

I cower to my need to feel this way,    
for this was the path I chose.    
and

Invisibly tortured courtesy existential nihilism

Invisibly tortured courtesy existential nihilism

Psyche wracked with agony
impossible mission to extricate lovely bones
they wanna remain permanently abed.

I chiefly function to amass knowledge
courtesy assiduously, habitually,
and judiciously reading
an eclectic assortment of written material.

Yours truly woke
with ambition, disposition,
inclination, and predilection
to glean from an assortment
of books esoteric learning
since... birth, but particularly
when experiencing emerging adulthood
about two score years ago.

Feeble attempt

Disappear

Extremely overwhelming enthusiasm,
with life depressing sarcasm.
Nihilism at its finest,
I forgot what's the feeling of best.
The more life goes further,
The more it gets darker.
What's the point in you and me, 
When at the end of the day we are just gonna flee.
When I walk through the crowd,
I can only hear myself aloud.
I am deeply frozen and

Disappear

Extremely overwhelming enthusiasm,
with life depressing sarcasm.
Nihilism at its finest,
I forgot what's the feeling of best.
The more life goes further,
The more it gets darker.
What's the point in you and me, 
When at the end of the day we are just gonna flee.
When I walk through the crowd,
I can only hear myself aloud.
I am deeply frozen and

Meditation on Meaninglessness

In shadow's tomb—
A dim, aimless flicker...
Void's grip, timeless 
claims all.

Fantomsound: life's song is just a cognition in the null.

Rain, pain—
Stardust, dust, flesh 
patternless on oblivions loom.

Decay's dance a molderwaltz,
Fingers grasp at phantoms 
no hope
Peace in the abyss's open arms. Not…

Unveiled—darkness, despair's shroud 
enigma's veil.

Hearts, no soul, toll; unpaid.
Dreams surrendered.
Woe's tale on wastesphere's icy breath.

Void's sigh,
Sun

The Nihilist Penguin

There was once a penguin who thought
That religion and morals were naught,
As he swam in cold water
He thought, "Boy, I oughta...
Do something, but I don't know what.”

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