Details |
Verse
|
a voyage
of life
for love
memories
of bliss
point to
the particular
time
becomes
reality
autonomy
an illusion
of contradictions:
injustice
takes
hold of us
in
a riddle
of restless
measures
sensations
stand
portrayed:
perception
resists
the
stimulus
of
kinship's
flame
rivalry
a stigma
in
the shade
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I do not know?
|
Sewing beauty into the seam of
reality, perception of the soul is no
frivolity, filling each moment with conscious
thought, experience each colour the green grass
and the ruby of port, excepting others views will
only distort, that which is your own fruitful
thought, experience the iron which is
wrought, be aware of your own actions,
each experience is poetry in motion,
what’s your intention? To create or
destroy, reality is our toy,
to abuse or enjoy, becomes
irrelevant to greet experience
or become shy and coy, the
wheel of life spinning like fire
poi!
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Free verse
|
The satin blanket of night
With it's silky silence
Wrapping whispers around
My head
Tucking in my dreams
Clicking out the light
Of reality
To reveal the depth of desire
The soon to be forgotten future
Cosy with the pervasive past
In the twisted landscape
Of perception
Where unicorns dance
Where unseen monsters lurk
A place where lost love blossoms
And fears manifest
Under the rainbow of dreamland
Real people escape
Until the monochrome blue
Bleeds back into the bedroom
The beautiful blanket
Of comfort becomes
The shadowy shroud of silence
For the midnight meandering heart
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Free verse
|
Several thoughts enter one’s mind while falling through the clouds
It, without doubt, gives a singular perception of life
Reality rising nearer, your focus sharpening
The knowledge of being without a parachute, there, lurking
After awhile, the inevitable is accepted
With the enjoyment of the passing clouds and splendid view
The clouds of financial worth and personal possessions
Social status, career accomplishment, and self-esteem
Loves, family, friends, and vitally important contacts
When the ride down lastly comes to its termination
The meaninglessness of those passing clouds
Suddenly becomes glaringly obvious to us all
© Copyrights G. Jones 2008
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Free verse
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Creatures, great and small, perceive us
for they are a part of the matrix of looking
but the planet is incapable of looking at all.
What is this 'looking' we do?
Better to explain what it is not.
Minds sees what they have agreed to see
as a collective perception.
Perception is a way of looking
through pre-painted-over mirror.
The planet is Conscious
but it is not looking or seeing - just being.
When we see with a fresh eye
we really can look,
watch,
even watch that which is watching.
Then looking becomes
the One Conscious Reality of Itself,
and no longer a prismatic illusion.
Until then, angels must guide
our feet as we stumble through
this maze of selfhood.
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Details |
Free verse
|
The focus burns through a paper-thin reality
seared rings smolder,
the laser fixed eye
becomes a fire starter.
You watch that slow burn
as the watcher watches the one who watches.
The foothills of mind catch the tinder, simmer
until lightning strikes flash upon an optic nerve,
a flare of solar plexus radiance
scorches all before it.
A wind is unchained from a giant painting of stillness
it runs through a hallowed valley of spinal awareness
charring the seen
until an exposure takes on the shape
of molten heat.
Now the one who looks
has broken through the tissue of perception.
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Verse
|
Silliness coupled with much humdrum
drains creative energy from the minds of children.
Bored kids, raised by televisions, make warped decisions.
Viewed daily by the hour, murder becomes ordinary.
The wild lunacy of far too many people
causes vulgarity to erupt at an early age.
Integrity is not taught by crude interjections.
Reality: kids mimic adults without perception.
Elegance is foreign; brutality, common.
In modern childhood decorum is misunderstood
as mere rules and likewise humility is worthless
Laxity reigns with sporadic parental harshness.
Today’s children have a mentality and morality
that would rattle our great-grandparents’ false teeth.
Our children are wiser than their peers of yesteryears,
re: street-smarts, fits and starts and body parts.
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Couplet
|
Before You Read Anymore
(I mean any more or just give
up and don't read any at all.)
Before of my poems read any(more)
Have you laughed at yourself before
And I have heard since their inception
Greatly improved people's poetry perception.
Why follow rules which are a mere formality?
When your life in my poems becomes a reality
Fresh, new, crisp and always well laid-back
Any moron could read as a matter of fact.
As your poems become entwined with mine
Everything will work out and end up fine
So instead of time consuming and well-planned
Are plain and simple so you can understand.
How does that grab you? Is that an insult
or a compliment? Tune in for next poem.
A little dab will do you and you will be
glad you did.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran
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Blank verse
|
From vast emptiness,
imagination is formed
which births a substance.
Reality is a seed of
imagination based on
belief which becomes a
substance,for what is and
what is not are based on
belief.
How do we really know
if who we call siblings are
really part of us,were we
born with perception?
Are our parents really
ours?We accept based on
belief.
Words formed are
accepted so also spouse's
fidelity.
Tomorrow like a hollow
always existing before
birth of mankind,gives
birth but nobody
can grasp it's loathsome-
sweet seed.
Tangibility of substance
is based on belief,what
you belief is what you
have.
You read my philosophy
of reasoning based on
your belief that it harbors
treasures beyond
measures-for knowledge
isn't acquired from birth
but on belief.
Then what is your belief?
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Light Verse
|
Deceived by the perceptions of what the eyes see. Then analyzing the thoughts
in your mind. Could this be an illusion swimming around in my head.
Deceived by diplomacy canidates making promises they can not keep.Lying
and scandalizing all in the name of another vote. Talk is all the citizens receive
and change becomes another diluted situation for all to see.
Deceived to conceive the pie in the sky mentality. Discover something that you
like to do , and money will chase you. Chasing it will cause you heartache and
misery .
Deceived to think that society has your best interest at heart and working until 62
that social security will be waiting for you.
Deceived and perplexed between two different opinions could one of them be
fact or fiction . Deceived perception is reality looking from the windows of my
soul. Is what I see really real? Or is it just man using his skills to deceive me
once again..... deceived !
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Details |
Limerick
|
Through the most simple of things, such as a bed time or favorite music
I've defined myself - one who knows an answer, but will not use it
One who soars with a mind of chaos, with both feet remaining still
Walking and learning with the normal, with a mind completely ill.
When desks transformed into prison cells, wise words left unspoken
The label for my knowledge remained, a pale grey, yet unbroken
Defined by numbers I'd glued to my brain, while never knowing why
I'd been imprisoned in a classroom - my mind floating with the sky.
Soon scholars transformed to prisoners while bandits became the brains
Impossible dreams and visions lived, through those they called insane
My vision burned with eyes shut, as imagination fed the flame
From then perception altered greatly while my eyes remained the same.
A bed time - at first a rule to live by, now signals my dreaming
A simple song - once a background, now the heart of my breathing
One who used to shed tears over reality, I now smiled
Dreams distort the reality of one whose heart becomes wild.
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Details |
Epic
|
The shadow another side of me,
the reflection of your perception
an incredible deception,
visible in the dark
like the moon I suppose
What you oppose
I compose
Look at the mirror
I see the same face
But ponder on the reality
To define my existence
so unreal,
and reveal an tainted soul
I close my eyes
And the sky starts drawing me away,
I feel non existence with memories of yesterday,
yesterday could tell a story of today
to arch in such a way that fills the streets with silence
The shadow
like the art f deception
is to look the same
But not for all to share the blame
Nor the fame
See after birth comes death
that is not a curse
its just nature way to create a balance
My shadow tells me
you are not better that me
just because you can afford to buy a steak
And I can not
its just vanity that makes you feel you have value more than me
see if you can never be me
you can never be better than me
we all as filthy as dust from whence we came
So when the present becomes the past
and dust turns to dust
like love and lust
We All but shadows and dust'
nobmath1601201:1320
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Details |
Rhyme
|
The push of life ,like an avalanche falls,
And thoughts like a cyclone around me swirl .
Issue after issue seek me with desperate calls,
To the degree that my very life should unfurl.
Day after day and time after time these hounds pursue,
With violet intent, their snapping and snarling I hear.
So I run, yes run, to escape those who seek to undo,
To the refuge so welcome ,so absorbing,so near.
As I am enveloped into my rescuers eye
Drawn away from all trains of my station,
My life is morphed into his perception
And all my chasing hounds die.
The avalanche births a snowman so still
And the cyclone a breeze becomes,
For his lines keenly present his bill
And I ride the waves of his songs.
As I glean his story, time and space realign
They demand my total attention.
And I leave reality behind
Being nudged in a captivating situation.
New sights,new sounds,new personalities arise
Fresh views,smart lines,cool thinking comes through,
In awe I see and hear the heroes surmise
These pages draw me in and I become part too.
Sheltered from those daily onslaughts so baiting
I enjoy these great adventures as my imagination looks
Far beyond to people and places each so fascinating
All while enraptured in the pages of any of many books.
5. The feeling of getting lost in a book
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Details |
Rhyme
|
They say your journey is more important than its end.
The walk of many surprises is always around the bend.
Are there really two paths that others have taught?
The one that is easy, wide all have known and sought?
Is the one narrow of treacherous darkness with uninvited guests?
Are there more paths we have not encountered that are blessed?
Surly, we can create our own path to our destination.
We are unique in our ways on this new path of amazing sensations.
As you walk into the shadows of darkness with doubt seeping into your soul.
Death rattles near you making your heart painfully low.
The path you can barely see through the dark shroud of mist.
As you struggle against your foreboding fear with trembling fists.
You walk on with sheer will as the light ahead is your guide.
Your troubles start to fade away as our mother walks by your side.
You are astounded by the amazing view she has provided to you.
As your journey continues, peace suddenly grips your heart anew.
A warm yellow glow envelopes your body and your soul.
Bringing forth a Love so pure, that your life is aglow.
As the sorrows and despair of this dark path begin to fade.
The path becomes more alive with amazing colors, even in the shade.
Your perception begins to change as lovely and beautiful you become.
You listen with your eyes closed and hear the melody of life as one.
Then your path changes as our father shows your amazing spiritually.
Through the beauty of traversing spiritual dimensions of your reality.
Let your heart be amazing love, with your brothers and sisters you share.
Giving all you are, even laying down your life, for you do care.
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Details |
Rhyme
|
In a teacup's embrace, a tale we shall unfold,
Of two colorful frogs, with stories to behold.
One painted blue, the other a purple hue,
Their minds intertwined, in a world askew.
The blue frog whispered, "We're tea thieves, you see!
Stealing each drop, a wild heist to set free!"
His thoughts danced swiftly, like ripples in a pond,
Believing the teacup was where they abscond.
The purple frog hopped with a joyful smile,
"We're on vacation, an oasis in style!"
His mind painted dreams, a tranquil retreat,
Finding solace and peace in this teacup's heat.
They conversed with flair, the teacup their stage,
Voices mingled, a colorful dialogue engaged.
But as the tale progresses, a twist will be revealed,
For the frogs were figments, illusions concealed.
The veil of perception cast an intricate spell,
Conjuring the frogs, the stories they'd tell.
Yet in truth's gaze, the reality unfurls,
The teacup stands empty, devoid of their twirls.
For the frogs were imagined, born from the mind's eye,
Whispered by whispers, like a whimsical lullaby.
In the teacup's silence, the truth becomes clear,
Their existence ephemeral, vanishing near.
No mention of illness, no shadows of the mind,
Just a whimsical tale, with surprises intertwined.
The frogs never existed, their presence a guise,
A mirage, a fragment, like dreams in disguise.
So let us ponder this tale with open hearts,
Where teacup fantasies took their vibrant parts.
Imagination's realm, where perceptions may roam,
Creating tales and illusions, finding places to call home.
And as we sip our tea, in cups large and small,
Let's cherish the magic, the stories that enthrall.
For in the depths of imagination's gentle grasp,
We find hidden wonders, where reality may clasp.
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Rhyme
|
The time is always wrong and consciousness is a deformed perception of reality we combine with artificial thought.
Prove you're here prove you're there. Truth is everywhere in secret and fabrication is the child of mind raised under surveillance of the third eye.
Capture the same kidnapped brain punctured and branded by darkness where shadows of sanity are abducted in a recent survey taken for centuries we've ventured through and found nothing except our own delusions.
Man made engineers engineering man kind and steering our futures into catastrophe starting as one until its ruled and barred in a society who lack the acceptance of its population.
The proof stays digging it self out from under cover and stolen and hidden within us and we don't know its instigation.
Don't ask questions if you don't want to hear the answers. We dance with satyrs and ghouls and demons in a place we call home feeling safe with alarms on our cars and homes and where's the dogs we love so much and lost while shopping.
We crave and rip us apart creating this world they charge us to live inside talking about space travel only large corporations can pay for while we ran out of goods and supplies while hating us with new dreams through insomnia.
Carbon footprints attacking us and terrorists escaping to the desert and we scream vengeance knowing its gods so we betrayed him and call it valued. Empathy turns to violence and we let it. Compassion becomes rape and we condone it. Soul is now hollow and absent and perhaps it wasn't ever there and is just a name.
Words are conjoined sounds we make and understand untill tomorrows new sound has wheeled up like a vehicle of communication between language barriers bare of content. We're here now for removal without avoidance. Emotion is lost, hope is neglected, depressions our life's, debt is our existence and death is our friend
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Free verse
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Many eyes of different color
see images and give them meaning;
reality is the clearest perception,
which brings on its sweetness,
and often an unacceptable bitterness:
I have given these reflective eyes
a choice and a challenge: to either
accept or refuse when they were observing,
to make conception uniquely mine...
being that courageous soul uneffected by lies!
Nothing that came out of these thoughts
was ever imagined by someone else;
everything that happened specified its reason,
and analyzing events...magnified the scope of its revelation:
all that this mind has poured out and revealed,
or even failed to discern is uniquely mine!
How foolish I would have been, if I hadn't been
able to bring to completion what had already been decided by fate;
another tragedy, and even more disappointment,
to have stood by and watched others win!
Every parade has some happy music and gleeful faces,
and life glides along with the same rhythm and pace,
it's up to us to show all the colors of our true intentions,
and if we fail, we are pushed aside by a crowd
which instills in its heart a zest that dignifies pride;
so no matter how weak our ego gets and trust dwindles,
we must make sure that hope is never is put by doubt...
otherwise it becomes a useless dream without a concept!
And deeply reflecting on this inevitable demise,
I let go of all my susceptibility and retain what is uniquely mine!
Numerous lives have been shattered by negligence and greed,
mine has withstood all tests and declared its own, indisputable victory;
and it wasn't won by avarice, but by deligence and ingenuity,
to make all wonder how I was never taken down by this heavy load!
What they needed was the strength to endure almost anything:
jealousy, envy, injustice, evil, unfairness ,controversy and misery;
I will not envision that famous figure being carved in marble, stone or brass,
being put on the higest pedetal soon after his mourned death;
if vanity were all I had pursued and fought for in my turbulent time,
I couldn't have achieved my goal: to keep what is uniquely mine!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
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Rhyme
|
THE PLURALISTS : Empedocles & Anaxagoras
That single primary substance the ‘arche’ of
the Ionian philosophers ,
Was challenged by Emphedocles (b.495BC)
and Anaxagoras(b.500BC) !
Emphedocles spoke of four qualitative elements
of Nature ;
As Earth , Air , Fire and Water !
And also of two mythical beings - love and hate ;
Which caused all elements to unite , or to
separate and break !
Therefore they were called ‘Pluralists’, -
Since for them only a single primary substance , -
did not exist !
This above position was refuted by Anaxagoras ,
Who claimed these elements were not merely
four ,
But they were countless in number and many
more !
It was neither love or hate but ‘nous’ , -
a spontaneous active mind ;
Was the source of all movements and life
of Mankind !
THE ATOMISTS :
Little is known about the Father of the
School of Atomist called Leucippus ,
He was made famous by his pupil Democritus !
For him Parminedes’ non-being void did never
exist ;
And Democritus spoke of atoms as indivisible
spatial entities ;
Moving in a void or empty space , as the building
stones of reality , -
Which led to the formation of different objects
and its multiplicity !
Just like the comedies and tragedies of those
days , -
Were composed of the same letters of the alphabets , -
Democritus had said .
He was a rationalist and maintained , all genuine
way of knowledge began , -
When sense perception ends !
For sense perception was obscure knowledge ;
And thoughts which transcends sense perception
and appearance ,
Reaching the very atoms in our being ,
Becomes the only genuine knowledge of human
beings !
But these philosophical thoughts only marked
a beginning !
THE SOPHISTS (481- 411BC) :
They were wise and skilful men of Greek history,
Lectured on art, rhetoric and oratory .
Also trained young men for political life ,
Were like intellectual mercenaries of their time ;
For all their teaching came at a price !
Beyond the reach of ordinary men ,
Which made Socrates later criticize them !
There chief exponent was Protagoras ,
Who had emphasized amongst all other things , -
‘Man as the measure of all things !’
But those Sophist had failed to see, the forest
for the trees !
They failed to recognize ‘man’ from ‘men’ ,
While exaggerating the differences in human
judgments ;
Ignoring the common areas of agreements !
(To be continued)
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Details |
Rhyme Royal
|
Ears, two appendages I fear,
pressure applied against the one who steers.
Pain distracts all sight,
light drives agony into effect.
Tears fall as visions fade, Strength summoned deep within,
pain ascends.
Blinded beneath tragic grief.
Heart cold, no emotion shown.
Imprisoned in manic thoughts that do not belong,
Questions of existence?
Destiny calls out to me in the night,
"OH wanderer wandering the deep, these
vast oceans await the lost, forgotten, and meek."
Signs seen in passing,
Symbolic interpretation signal with Marks,
Translation to be known;
"WARNING! TO ALL WHO SEE!! DANGER!! WOE!!
A CASTAWAY WAS (X), BEWARE! BEWARE!
OBJECTS LYE IN WAIT THAT ARE MUCH CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR.
A COAST DRAWS NEAR!! STRICKEN LAND,
THIS PLACE IS A SANCTUM FOR DEPRESSION AND FEAR.
GOD IS GOOD! A MESSAGE TO BE HELD DEAR"
Closed remarks left on stone,
his vessel Abruptly he meets the pier.
(X) Days turn to weeks, tones claimed by sound,
whispering air begins to creep.
Growing louder the more I flee.
Solace felt only in shade, free shelter given
Underneath the mustard tree.
Exhaustion gives way,
lost, an abandoned hunger pains slowly speak.
with hope in a prayer, faithful to his belief,
suddenly entering a deep realm,
where honesty finds a poisonous leach.
If left untreated,
not found all senses would eventually cease to be.
Into blackness he fades,
nightmares become reality a voice echoes out ringing through the void of space. " My dreams, they dwell inside this place. "
Inception from the night gives way to perception at Day light,
once again awakened into another writhing strife.
Motivation becomes a vice. The decision is made, to face ALL fear.
So He greets them directly, natural and fair.
staying true with honor,
wielding bravery creates an awkward stare.
Subliminal coding Both hear.
Lack of sound, images will appear.
Now the rules are clear.
At life's start the line reads
"LIFE RECORD: HOPE+2 FEAR-21- BEWARE OF THE SPEAR."
Enemy of my enemy surrounded,
with weapons forged and sharpened against me
taking turns one by one they slice.
A crucial mistake is made.
PAIN... when used as a KEY,
opens up the doorway "REMEMBRANCE"
above the entrance,
opens up the sea.
With infinite choices that lead to moments of
what is or what soon shall be.
Will of instinct a question of a Souls might.
"Do I flee like a coward taking flight?
Or stand firm and tall through the fire?"
DESPITE THE GIANTS HEIGHT!!!
YEA YEA,Till my last breath I choose to FIGHT
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Details |
Free verse
|
Oh, I can faintly remember
Last years' frigid December
We were like burning embers,
Kindling our fires of kindness
We were swimming in errors
Don’t let hatred and angst harness
Inside you…
Yes, I do…
Love you unbearably and truly,
So don’t be such a heartless bully
You set my uncanny, hopeless heart aflame
Ripped apart, I’m the one to take the blame
Our hopefulness manifests to awful ashes
Our beauty is beyond our long eyelashes
Intelligence is beautiful and I’m possessive over knowledge
I’m almost always on the edge; my mind’s above life's hedge
Perception of being the exception of affectionate direction
Becomes my shadow and my reflection, so screw your rejection
I want to be beside you forevermore and snuggle with you close
Hit the brakes in your truck of good-luck and let’s kiss nose to nose
I denied your pathetic, lunatic-like lies
I dismiss your half-hearted goodbyes
How time flies, don’t ask your why's
Sick of hearing your childish cries
I need less lows and more highs
Tears replaces glee – sorrow dries
Rise from the gravity and weight society has on you
Surrender and accept the kindled embers of what lies ahead
We must vanish away the fears that hurt us so true
Remember December's embers of beloved luminescence instead
I burn for you like desire fire in the nighttime campfire
I churn like the ocean's tides…I’m in Aphradere's empire
Scorched aflame by the seams…
Overflowing with abusive dreams…
I’m drowning in your ice-engulfed soul
I thought you were mine, my beautiful
You turned the other cheek
There are no words to speak
Disgusted because I feel humiliated
My brain is broken, blank and jaded
Waterfalls of doubtful fragmentations embellish in my cranium unfortunately
The frenzied flames of lust is surrounding me with whirlpools of restless misery
The waters of Aphradere, they ascend so vast
The sea-dwelling, sympathetic spirits will rinse away our torturous, grief-stricken memories
Of our complicated and underestimated past
The sandcastles of our somewhat good childhood got kicked around in the blessed breeze…
Dwelling in the depths of anger and anxiety ablaze… caught abruptly in a sugar-coated, haze-hazardous gaze
Corrupted by the worthless labels in society that puts me in a craze…penetrated by my pornographic phase
The waters of Aphradere will draw near us and give us no fear – it will drench you with cheer, so shed no tear
Kindle the embers of our remembrance, your discouragement is extremely encumbering, my long-lost, darksome dear
Shed some light here…bust open all misery-amassed mirrors
We are swimming in the currents of our nostalgic nightmares
Shallow, rapid rivers of remedies are far from us now…I miss your precious eyes…
Somehow, the goodbyes you bid were all abominable lies and attention-seeking cries
Forgiveness and cherished loyalty will hold me close and mercy is on its merry way
Revenge and fiery fury within is not my reality to put into play – won’t be led astray
Vengeance and judgement is the Lord of Accord's responsibility alone
Endurance is my healing grace and I am like virtuous embers on my own
December's embers left me insecure
I remember November and its nice cure
I want to disappear into October's weather
Kindle the embers of who we used to be –
Do you even remember? Weren’t we pretty happy?
Our tears and cheers are treasured in God's gigantic jar beyond the billionth bar
It’s the memories that reduced to dust and ash a while back – forget it, I will move on and so far, I’m a shimmering star against your past-permeated scar
Last years' frigid December –
How come I clearly remember it now?
Maybe because It’s an empowering ember
That remains alive in me forever somehow
Do you remember me? I hope so, honey
Endurance is an ember of empathy
Within me eternally – let’s all be happy
Along with much-needed tranquility
Hear the echoes of elegant empathy,
Calling you softly in the dead of night, what a sight!
It says: remember me…remember me…
Your kindling kindness left me with no fright tonight
The waters of Aphradere
Will douse us with no fear
Marinate me with mega-magnificence,
Oh Lord of Accord that is of brilliance
You kindle my flames of ember-searing passion
Oh Father, You gave me such compassion
Beyond the human touch
God, I love You oh so much!
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Details |
Free verse
|
A man who lacks a sleep schedule.
In a home that houses not only him
But his very own mother
His daughter who comes equipped with
Her very own mother too
Honey girl rises with the sun and sets with the moon.
Daddy is her best friend.
Somehow, he is always there for her no matter
What time may it be?
For why does not daddy sleep?
She will say one day without a windowed doubt.
He walks
All by himself
Blue jeans, long sleeved shirt, tennis shoes
Fitted hat with a straight pressed bill; seems…
Worn out
Hidden from (and)
Visibly talking to no
One foot in front of the other
He walks
All by himself
At high pace; silently
Casual, rhythmic by stride
Jacketing immersed anxiety
But he seldom is seen
By anyone; in society
And he is always let down.
By everyone, in society
Eyes roll, heads turn
Cupped hands cover lips
Sweet nothings’ whisper
Secret seams; normal
Tag-less numbers label
Issues of social security
Knock-knock
Who’s there?
Phantom shadows of sound
Ringing in his lonesome
Here’s this man
He adores his daughter.
Abides her; hopes of
Something better than, this now
He has an old laptop computer
Pretty much everything
He writes…
Anything connected within
A damned near perfect philosophy
Portentously troubled, menaced by all means
Principals prove morally taxing on him.
Hiding from his own potential
Running to the wind
He becomes dehydrated through strife
Overwhelmed by mourning gloom
Tears seldom form to become drops.
He employs his artificial tears with reckless abandon.
A good gift idea for his daughter…
Two other children miss their father as well.
He has been estranged due to unfortunate circumstances.
Enough baggage to claim life
Even with his complexes
With mint-mental ability
Soul tight kung-fu reflexes
Moral catlike agility
At home, his very own mother
Belittles him amongst siblings
Reputed to be a worthless son and
Dead beat dad
As strangers look him in the face and
Negatively judge…
Eyes roll as their teeth lie…
Normal individuals with
Perfectly normal complexities
Ironically riddled with the same complexity,
Accept his complex
Rationalized by outright awareness
In this society, we all are subject to change.
That’s fancy for lie.
Lie about normal now and again
Today find normal
Just out of arms reach
Tomorrow find perfect
Becoming normal, as equals
Normal is presumed to be a base lined standard.
In the middle
Normal!
For crying out loud!
You’re not normal?
For crying out loud!
Perfect is impossible?
For crying out loud!
Lie about your true self and that you are.
Why?
Normal becomes perfectly inadequate by direct perception
Intentionally designated
It is unlawful to partake in normal activities.
Frowned upon
Too much hype involved with perfection and
The illusions we all are creating.
Illusions that we all create
Equally created in, when
Born into this world without a choice
Thereafter we are gifted with free will
The ultimate inheritance of choice
A perfectly normal, everyday blessing
New life and
A normally imperfect negative latter
In death
Life’s ultimate paradox
The almighty enabler of self doubt and conspicuous minds
Trust that we so freely lend out
In our early years; youth
Trusted belief, inevitably broken
By none other than our dearly beloved
Mom and Dad directly lie to our faces
Brothers’ and sisters’ join in and
Lie… Lie… Lie…
Worse than he had ever imagined as
This innocent trust is top of the line.
An irreplaceable quality of man and
Man strips away belief from man;
Every single perfectly normal day
This man who lives with his mother
And loves his daughter
He will inevitably break her little heart too.
Paper thin differences, as he is only separated by
His conscious awareness of such reality
Dust pools from within his eyes as artificial tears
Are bone dry and money is hard to come by
Poverty drives this man, nearly to the edge…
Suicidal and guilt stricken
He cannot take his pitiful life away
From that little girl
She is the miracle of hope this man needs
One man alone, is incapable of trudging
Through the sands of
This let down life
At least
Not without reason(s) to find his;
The courage to provide
Always and forever,
Hope remains
Within
One of you;
Or maybe two
That
One fine day
He just may
Rise
Above
It
To
Make dreams come true
-6-13-16-
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Free verse
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True love is unquestionable.
What is true love?
To me; it is more feeling based rather than definitively worded.
Emotional attached, formed mentalities that are equally paired with an immaculate physical connection.
Collected bi-gender, shared love—
She’s out there.
He may be too afraid.
Hidden in there; inside of this—
What is that?
Pedestal lifted impression that one is more of ______ than…
What am I getting at?
Insecurities canker like goose-bumps on apparent tips—
My knotted tongue wishes—
Tied up; zipped shut as if forcefully so.
Never allowing such realistic possibility that she would ever…
Unable to move, made sloth.
Watch her eyes glow.
Somehow in-allowed to connect; looking foolish from.
I bet she isn’t that surreal.
Maybe even thinks about him?
Not me though.
He is surely not I.
For I—
For I am not worthy; me…
Who am I?
A nobody, a loser, I don’t stand a chance with…
AH-Duh-Stutter-Red-Face—
Butterflies ideated coincidentally as fear—
Aged advice isn’t as easy as said.
But done—
Her image becomes glorified; extensions ladder the space between.
Imaginary perception instilled through conceptualized normalcy.
That is—
Now and later remains currently accepted as reality.
Immaturity isn’t anything.
Maturity isn’t contextually different.
Nature is conceived as the ground; associated with the sky.
Nonchalantly accepted; unquestionable…
Man and woman are every-bit; natural.
Misunderstand man; while miss opportunity slips away.
Fewer complexes than one foolish boy wonder comprehends.
Angered shouts’ discourage; helped only by belief.
Over thought of everyone else left little room for personality.
Idiotic ignorant youngster; old man self says…
Courage can be found in the outcast.
Just by saying how it is.
I don’t appreciate that.
This goes for pretty much everything; really.
Cool is the cat who allows natural acts.
Being who you are—
Nice…
Is it that difficult to be kind?
It is kind-of difficult to be that.
Parental digressions advise children; blindly.
Kids talk with the textured walls scent into their rooms.
Then they count from one, two, and three.
Nothing happens after three…
I would consider exploring four more numbers.
Limited lessons teach liars who to cheat.
Stolen from truth; role models act as if.
Confused conditions are figured out.
Control is bestowed within double-standards.
Seldom do they take this to extremes.
Carrying this behavior into adulthood; delusional morality—
Sociopathic enlargements build unrealistic illusions.
Real life illusions; becoming reality—
Handpicked inner circular societies rally as troops.
Every so often one member wises up.
Calling out this moral deficiency; sanity loses color.
Spit and foam back-fire from out of nowhere.
Only to be looked upon from another time as expected behaviors.
Pity isn’t justifiably explained.
However present pity may be; this takes on more relevance.
Massively strikes a low blow to society.
Entirely breaking interpreted innocence in general—
Skeptical now of other people’s intentions; walls form.
Barriers blockade available trust almost impenetrable.
Knowledge creeps slowly though, over many passing years. (flip-flop)
Perhaps it may possibly be deathly withheld, inside lesser lives.
Fortunate few will open otherwise closed minds just wide enough; allowing forth-righted passages.
Fewer so are those select few ambitious to remain bungled-up; bollixing on the brink of sanity.
Horrified bi humanity, dry vomitus thrusts heave in disgust.
Neither good nor bad, is this reaction simply.
It simply just is.
Recognition allows sun breaks to reveal hope.
Appreciation is graciously true.
Unmasked by pure consciousness; an option is chosen.
To be or not to be?
I believe that has been questioned.
One decides to be and not to become whatever (this is that) they are.
Bravely taken stances must lead.
Odds against all this good, hatred and painful laughter pings. (Ping…….)
Tears eventually form; a man is all.
(A) Man is all…
Cyclically repeated by one imbecile concoction; empower numerate will and you shall ideologically ingest accordingly so to be comprehensively aware; craziness.
Always believable through optimism, a little less romantic hope more expressing gratitude.
Equality based judge-mentality towards all mankind.
Making mistakes; acknowledging apologetically.
Example displayed by actions effectively lead confided by word got your back.
Sleeping sounds snore in a comfortable bed.
Anxiously awaken by a beautiful, surreal recollection.
A once fearfully lifted atop pedestal; now he looks into level eyes.
The butterflies remain…
Overjoyed by this, love finds truth through honest acts.
Lips lock to seal serenity.
Everlasting love will immortally guide tomorrow.
Only by showing the way to today.
-Ironic Zinc
May 14, 2016 (edited on, forgotten and found in folder dated 10-22-15)
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