Phosphorescent planetary
paths petrify prematurely,
Profoundly powerful
photospheres perish
pathetically,
Prominences polarize,
Propagating parabolic
phantom - shadows,
Preterite plasma - bursts
petrify periodically,
Precipitating permanent,
pitch - black primordial -
gloom,
Prototypical pulsars
paradoxically portend post-
stellar doom,
Profound planetary
patriarchs perish perpetually.
A fly on the wall can surely see
The blatant display of idiocy
The lies that you spread, disguised as a truth
An unshakeable stance, in spite of the proof
Conceited, inflated in your own regard
Pathetically pompous; a view to discard
You are not smart, or true to your word
Just a big mouth on legs, completely absurd!!
I stare timidly into the softly lit mirror,
Its gaze staring back at me unrecognizable.
I've been told this person is my friend,
But its reflection paints a different picture.
Its mixture mixes a mess of colors I never thought go together anyway.
A bit ghostly.
I trace its outline carefully -
A bump here, a dent there, extra padding everywhere -
So pathetically unfamiliar to me.
So frightening
to me....
To me
to me
to me
to me
Why does no one else seem to see
What I see?
What I see...
I've been told is my friend.
But friendliness bodes forbidden,
Foreign between the eyes of those destined to be one.
When will I learn my body is my friend?
Who honestly teaches that anyway?
I say honestly purposefully.
Lies, all lies.
You see it, don't you?
I don't even need to explain for you to know.
That's how low this show has gone.
I need help unmasking and redefining
this
festering,
fatal
phenomenon.
nothing feels more pathetically empty
than a false sense of pride. ha!...
as if bullies don't know!
There is an enormous gumball machine in this hair cutting place.
It was probably gleamingly shiny and beautiful once.
Possibly held three hundred thousand gumballs.
Yes, Virginia, it is that big.
This machine is pathetically empty now.
There are only enough gumballs to fill the bottom inch of her bowl.
I feel sorry for her.
Tension Spread Thick
Layering Quick
Mental Health Sinking And Physically Sick
Sympathy Party
Wounds Pathetically Licked
The Sores Of My Past, I So Dangerously Pick
Black Cloud I Cloak, It Unbearably Sits
My Outskirt Persona Convincingly Tricks
A soul Held Captive, Body Imprisonment pit
Happiness Rarely Appears Through The Grit
Broken And Bruised, Shattered To Bits
Accepting, I'm Far Too Gone To Be Fixed
Yet, I Face Each Day Pretending And Refusing To Quit
someday ill be fixed
Let it go,
let it flow -
cut it with your words.
Slash at every piece of it
until it finally hurts.
Tear and open up old wounds,
pouring in the salt.
Take aim at it and fire away,
pinning down the fault.
Yeah, all those little thing
that you pathetically hold
onto so desperately
as you continue to get old.
You’re like the dog the scripture says -
“to his vomit” it would seem.
Yeah, like a broken record
and you know just what I mean.
But this time you can pack it up
and take all of your .
Shove it right straight up your ass!
I am sick of it.
Cuz this time it is different,
I’ll no longer be the one
that you can still manipulate.
Baby I am done!
You fell on earth,
sinner!
you shall meet your demise.
No God will pity you,
your vessels shall wreck
through your body.
Agony is your punishment,
foe of your happiness.
You pious little men
hope no more!
Poison lingers even after death.
For having sinned you shall fade.
No God will weep for you.
No Man will grieve for you.
Lapsing to life was wrong,
pathetically cruel was
surviving.
The ballast of our Thursday afternoon
in the countryside lays distilled in your face.
Yawning like a cow in pasture eating sweet grass
your words flatten the moment.
Having no capacity of knowing
what you might see in an endless sky
you have seemingly died from boredom.
Your small dreams have squandered the butterfly’s wings
pathetically flapping ‘us’ into a Prantic trance,
We lay like sleeping rabbits under an erroneous sun
that does not rise above the numbness
of your wintering heart.
Gridlocked like a dog’s nose to the ground
on the scent of somewhere on a wall of many stains,
you hunt the missing birds sitting
on rainbows just out of reach,
then bait your hook to lure in the cold silver fish
reflected in diluted ponds of your resentment.
I wait…for a word never to be spoken while
you set your watch tightly
winding clock hands that spin in circles within your eyes
on a face of numbers that never leaves
its constant bemusement of wilted flowers.
Tomorrow I will wake up and work out just a half hour,
And yet I find myself weak.
Today I will limit myself on the sweets I devour,
And yet I find myself weak.
Now I will get up and actually do something and clean,
Yet I find myself weak.
I will read today! Instead of stare at a screen,
Yet, I am lazy and weak.
I will hold my tongue, be less mean and obscene,
And yet my soft lips turn to a sharp beak.
I sail on, a captain ignoring a leak,
Not taking steps to fix the wheel that squeaks.
I promise myself hollowly to improve week after week,
As I sit at the bottom just wishing for the peak.
I can do it, I can make steps, have it be more than what I speak,
If only if only…I weren’t so pathetically weak.
Let’s try ballerina school she said.
She was convincing, but I was leery.
I have the largest feet in this bed
my hazel eyes are far-sighted and blurry.
It will be great fun, she assured me. This cousin of mine.
I wondered about it, but she is a convincing feline.
My best efforts were pathetically pathetic at best.
I was glad to get home to my cookies and take a well-deserved rest.
Same time next week, my cousin said optimistically.
I hope she is talking to my brother, certainly not me.
He is the prettiest rooster I have ever seen.
Handsome too, she said. She was the chicken hawk queen.
We had heard rumors about them both, some of them mean.
She was an ugly hen, kind of pathetically drably and green.
He is the talk of the barnyard, she told us. For sure!
If she was in love, he was possibly her sights-set-on-cure.
We watched him crowing, he was standing so near.
I think she would like him to call her “my dear”.
Evidently beyond your control
they must be less
for you to be more
A drive beyond
Your governess
to belittle,discard,abhor
declaring self hero or victim
Simultaneously
Acting so mean
Needing to reduce
All others to
the smoothest satiny sheen
Worn by your abrasive ways
Chip,chip,
Chipping away
As you bolster and fluff
Bluster enough
to keep inner critics at bay
Pathetically parading your lack
for any
and all to see
News flash!
Never will the likes of you
decimate the likes of me
Get on with it
without pretense,with relish
As the hot dog with chips
P.s. Don't forget
Send us postcards
From your endless ego trips
In closing may I offer
this final savory bit
In life those doing the smelling also as well dealt it
Seathed Conflicts
Devastatingly ignited fire of riot for a decade,
A bundle of clean rags of thoughts catches,
Through a baptism by flames of accidental occurrence ,
In a certain place causing damage and stress,
A strong wind fans the my inner strength,
Seedlings of my new themes on empty landscape,
Self-exposure of the war camarilla of my vision,
Outbreak sliders effectively against right-handers,
Of my hidden chestnut tree of foresight,
Adrift of the peacemaking weaver takes deep insight,
Unvoiced desires and pitiful vulnerability,
Push up the bliss of revealed emotions on costs,
Of my scope of my measure of domained land,
To restore the life of broken stabilized feeling,
Escape by recrossing of hovering of thoughts,
Away from the tides of time destiny,
Great pillars of my determined decision,
Prison the warder of white rose flames,
A war broken host may drive them before,
An ardent mind pathetically shelves himself,
When phantoms of battle burst in mist.
Sajid Hussain Pakistan ©
We have a feeling
my love and I
that it's time to leave.
It is the passing
of an earlier time
for which we grieve.
Then, right was right,
hope was bright,
and civility was ever in sight.
We were free our minds to speak
no need for games of hide and seek
or to be pathetically weak.
Without a clap of thunder
that world is dead down under,
making us wonder and perceive
that it's time for us to leave.
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