As I am finding myself inspired more, I think it's gonna be better if I post all my "poetry" -or whatever it's called- in one place.
Notice: ( ) means it's implied [] means it read in one block
Feel Free to ask questions, or tell me what doesn't rhyme, miscount of the syllables or anything else!
Coffee and anxiety; Caffeine is a drug, that get me fidgety, It's either be asleep or fakely lively, The saying holds the truth, beggars can't be picky.
The thought of being me, it might seems lovely, But do not hope for it, it is like jail really, It still feels like a roof, no need for self pity.
Dear just walk in my shoes, it will look all dreamy, But dear I assure you, this, with security, If you understand me, it will not be scary.
Facade You want to tell them all, a bit like that one thug, STOP you have to blend in, put it under the rug, If you feel that tears come, swallow them in (with) a chug.
To not tell anything, stay like a ladybug, If you are not careful, they guess there is a bug, And start asking questions, but shh this is my drug,
Sleep Sleep: To sleep is a travel in the deep sea. Dream: To dream is to sit in first class leather seat. Apnea: To get the little death? not really. Wet Dream: No touchy and your body cleanse, isn't it neat?
Wake up: wake up Ne-o or Alice depending. Snoring: it's something to do with your nose I guess? Cat or SO: the one to do all the cuddling. Clock: Dring Dring, it breaks in pieces, oh what a mess!
Hail Mary Mom Mary came to me, this song is quite catchy, one day [it'll] be handy, and it is quite flashy,
Mom Mary came to me, There is no hierarchy, (weird word...) But it was not sneaky... It is a bit preachy!
Mom Mary came to me, call her mother clearly, or they will be dreary, Mother Mary, happy?
Morning (the) Hardest part of the night, some will say of the day, What if it was one fight? Then it's like 1st of May!
But I got a routine, coffee keeps me at bay, cigarettes too, but shh, the censor might go cray!
I think it's all figured (out), a bit like the chicks lay, I could tell you more but... it's morning I can't stay!
Crush I catched a sight of her once but It did not stick, and then everytime it did feel like a pinch, step by step in my mind she crawled in brick by brick, the pinching to my heart,soon afflicted my paunch,
the thought of her only, would made me smile dearly, the day I learnt her name felt like finding ether, and my craziest dreams kept me awake daily, but my lil world crumble when I met her lover,
the dreams became nighmares, to see her would stab me, after times I forgot, but...wait ,there, who is she?
Food I do love me some food, I really think it's good, And while I browse imgur,I look at some foodporn, I always loved red meat,sucking as I was born, But my diet [ain't] great, I live the bachelorhood,
hence why I just eat junk'(food) which goes into my blood I put my life on hold,the years put me in debt, I look at cuisine stuff,and mukbang on the net, I never try cooking,I fear the adulthood,
I'd like to try something, a simple dish but new, some regular as well and stuff that might seems odd, like that time I learnt about that fruit, reine claude, I got some ideas: soup, cake, pasta, meats, stew?
affordable simple? I can think of a few, even though I do wonder what i might just try, beside mars,(big)mac and rice I don't know what to fry, but I am too lazy and this is sadly true.
Siberia Tell me what it inspires, in your own mind and heart, Red for the comrades or blue for the tundra part? To me it is synonym of great adventure, It can be, if you oblige the weird indenture. Being toss about scorching hot and cold weather, But that's over space and time not altogether!
It sounds like great venture to be so far from home, To escape the boredom is why I wrote that poem, The Siberian steel and steam horse would take me that far. But I would not stay in the nice passenger car, After a first trip I would make it my last one, When I realized that bit of peace, there is none. Then I will go back but in the midst I would jump, To doze off on the back of a tree or a stump.
I woke up, finally I escaped from my dreams. Let me have my coffee 2 sugar and some cream,
O Siberia, [you're] a woman on nuptial(s), The thought of you remind me of some ritual! Romanov, Rurikids, Lenin, Stalin, Putin, Those are the leaders, some in tales at the inn. That is enough talk about the great motherland, Did I tell you about me visiting Scotland? The northern Netherlands could help me escape too, But to be high is nothing to me the cuckoo!
Fear of being happy As a child I did not ever think about it, Now that I am grown I try not to exhibit. how out of nuth'(nothing) I could create joy I wonder? Now I can barely do anything, laziness, But for all I want in life is some happiness, I try and study the almost forgotten past, All I found is that euphoria does not last. I do look at the future, but it scares me, And alas the present I can handle just barely.
After my deepest search I found that happiness('s), A monstruosity that sounds like craziness.
[Life's] a river and I am a waiter I guess, for it to appear... the monster of the Loch ness.
Weekly schedule On monday we witness the great korean's teams, on tuesday again we indulge the best of one, on wednesday the tournament regroup the top-cream, on thursday it is all about the special won, on friday they fight again with strength and malice, and for this weekend I do know what to practice!
The 4 gods. First, Nestea the, won the title three times, The first time he defeated some young king, the second times he planned the perfect crimes, The third run was done without a sing'(le) fling.
Second's Life, whose first was in december, next year same period he won a cup, so many it is hard to remember, then last one after a two year hiccup.
Third is Zest, the famous K-T protoss, first title in what is his year maybe, then a second one, no time to grow moss, Then a third just for the form really.
There is one that has more title to hang, the king of wings got four gold badges, dang!
Heaven. I do wonder can you escape heaven? If we do admit that you can still think, Imagine if that is the last haven, and for some reason it does start to stink,
For we do not know how up there it goes, one can just think about it and ponder what would happen if from hell it is close, and after times all you do is wander?
But wait 'it will not at all be like that', says to me the good old all in black clerk, For in the book it appears perfect. What, could make you think otherwise you lil' dork?
Maybe that is the human side of me, seems logical, for no one can foresee.
Wise I do day-dream of infinite knowledge, I feel quite old but without the wisdom, I want my life to end, I feel the edge, Another day, that, I can not fathom.
But is not getting wisdom the real key? you can say: to get old is to suffer, you live highs on and off, that's your daily routine.the good and bad altogether.
All in all, it seems like a precious gift, But you can feel, that at some point it breaks, and when you collect it makes you all stiff, to help other, it is what is at stakes.
Wanting to finish early that's foolish, What about a change?Nah, I'm too mulish.
Trump Simpsons or Mac, that's when I heard the name, everyone told me he was a bit extreme, and lots of people make fun of his mane, to be fair he just want to blow some steam.
I do not know much about his career, just that now he is running for president. There are lots of people who, for him, cheer. I heard his hate about south and cement.
could it be that he is all serious, that his speeches are about all his wrath, and yes he does be just so furious, and he's been telling us about his path.
He might just be playing a character, and laugh from his -not- ivory tower.
Byun once upon a time there was a lil' toss, one that seems to have a great destiny, to become stronger and one of the boss, but he would need to advance carefully.
To The Prime Clan he decided to move, the home of ,soon, almost all the terrans, marineking,polt and maru, I approve. Then his career seems to have run its span,
Him and his puppy simply dissapeared, we all laugh and spoke of the kespa jail, Ghost King,in our hearts you were still revered. We would be yelling but to no avail...
Now he has won one of the best tourney, Think about it, that was a great journey.
Rose My love, pretty as the dew on roses, in the quite morning of a summer day. To you I dedicate my weak proses. I did write so it may forever stay...
alongside your smile, our laugh and my youth. For the world should know, after your presence, everything is gone, and that's the sad truth. And nothing quite last, see my innocence.
Our love was only brief. No need for lies, our lives did not last and so did our love in the midst of the universe, time-wise. But we reached as high as a mourning-dove.
What would I give so we can share our breath, O my...I hope you truly rest, dear Beth.
Monster The lil monster under my bed is known, not only to me but the aid as well. We do get together and chat halftone. His first name I am not sure how to spell.
Sometimes I believe it's all in my head, but after dawn wakes, again he appears. To talk to him sometimes I kind of dread, but his mien I prefer over my peers.
The doctors warned me...but did I listen? The monster pulled me away from them all. I thought only the weakest were stricken. I did not realize I was so small.
You listen to him too and that's grotesque. For under my bed lay my working desk.
Baby O baby, baby you are so lovely, will you let me take you out for dinner? (I bet she looks fine in a bikini) Ho dear I wish I had met you sooner.
o baby, you are so magnificent, You can make men knee by using your stare. (I hope that ,to her, I am sufficient) to impress you I don't know what to wear.
O baby, you are perfect and beaming, I swear I'll never fall in love again. Just imagine us side by side sleeping, Dear, that is all I want simple and plain.
O baby, baby one day we will meet, To my eyes you are a sweet, so sweet, treat.
Zerg First you drone and even make them double, all this while you overlord try to go to the other side to save you trouble. Do not focus on your win/loss ratio.
Then you expand not only once, but twice, Make some queens ,keep injecting while droning, keep creeping too, for vision is so nice. Then choose what you are gonna be making:
Roach to counter the low mass blink stalker? Bane-lings to counter the stim shield marine? At least muta-lisks kill the marauders! With broodlords bring at least one mighty queen!
Remember the lesson is to drone more, At the last minute, get ready for war.
Writing Writing is, from this weird world, my escape. But it requires so much perseverance, I try for my ideas to take shape but it sometimes looses all coherence.
Not a good writer nor an hardworker, At least it does not feel yet like a chore, so for now it does not make me suffer! Though I do post them online like a whore.
Because of greatness I do sometimes dream. But did anyone write with that in mind? I don't think so, this is not how you beam! And such destiny is not for my kind.
I am nothing but a poor lone writer, So, what? After all it does not matter.
Orient Please have a seat and listen to this tale, of a great deity from the far east, so vibrant, that to your child you will tell! To the eyes she was a real nectar feast...
Imagine her in the soft lingerie, as majestic and colored as a djinn. Can you catch a glimpse of her naked belly? Can you smell the aroma off her skin?
You can only reach her through vivid dream. Maybe reading One Thousand and One Nights Would help appease the rate of your bloodstream Now, you should have her fair picture in sights.
In your mind she induces quite a thrill. Alas to marry her you never will.
My spleen I do not know how far into the ages, I'd to look for the descent of my spleen. I think I have written it on some pages, It might have started while I was just a teen.
After my short first love and addiction, With my body and mind still in shaping, I did slowly give in to depression, and I became the anxiety king.
After some talks and medication though, I am slowly starting to live again. Or is it my brain playing the banjo? To hide an upcoming amount of pain?
Tonight I shall sleep without even a fight, And tomorrow I might smile , yes, I might...
Practice Like a korean you ignore the pain. Are you from league or a great star-crafter? Don't forget to rewatch or you won't gain the sacred skill you are fiercely after.
Game after game the same build you repeat, To win you know the main game theory, and it's nothing if the screen shows defeat, but still to you it feels sadly teary
on the weekend it's the time for tourney, your inner competitor is showing, it is part of your incessant journey the last pieces added to your making.
To become a pro at night you dream of, it is ,after all, the game that we love.
Click Click, clack, click, clack pummel the A P M. Green square,green square, composes the fast mouse. To most people those are sounds they condemn, to be useless and fancy they jalouse.
click, clack, click, clack does the impressive chant. Be careful or your wrists you will destroy. Try to stop and spoiler alert: you can't, to click is now your favorite lil toy.
Click, clack, click, clack that is now how you type. You can quit starcraft, but it won't quit you. Fourteen CC , Double drop and hatch snipe, add a pinch of salt and that's how we grew.
Click, clack, click, clack "WHAT THE FUCK YOU DOING?", It is just game, I swear that is nothing!
Snoop Dogg He is the one double o double g, his tunes are quite chilling to the ear, you can put it even if you drink tea, his rap is godlike, really, top tier.
How old he is today, you would not guess, Back in the day with dre he was rapping. Choose an album's playlist and play you press, I assure you gonna be listening
for hours at end, again I assure you! Even if he is not the most hardcore. Don't forget to check the featurings too. Now put an album on and close the door,
unless your parents are K with the thug. Brilliant! like some antidepressant drug.
Suicidal This sick sad world, right now, I want to leave. It might be a bit too late or early. Just read it when you are ready to grieve, I do just hope this is not too twirly.
I am writing to you on this grey day, to tell you about my -I hope- last trip. Please have stopped this twisted joke of a play! My role I completed, let's leave the ship!
I just hope I do not fail this last try, at -for once- doing something relevant. Whether I do or not, please do not cry, try and see it as a mere incident.
My mind! you can try and diagnose her, but for now, let me plug the old toaster.
Money Once I heard, Money makes the world go round, This motto I perfectly know too well. of our society it is the ground, a fool only could have another tell,
maybe he would be the most deductive? I wonder, is greed nature or nurture? They do say you have to be productive! so let's focus and stop the conjecture
No money is one of my deepest fear, for I don't want to become a hobo. Sometimes it even makes me shed a tear, then my nose becomes a noisy oboe.
If you say Money can't buy happiness, then please, just give it to me your highness.
Dungeon The magic number seems to be just eight. Sometimes a key is not necessary. But for the final road you have to wait, first, instruments or badges you'll collect.
Each room you want to clear clean and complete, some treasure you will, for later, acquire and each enemy you want to defeat, the big boss has what you truly desire.
Get ready before the final battle, get your health back and go buy some potions, Are you ready? Let's go enough prattle! Don't get overwhelmed by your emotions!
Finally the world and princess are saved, Your great nickname forever is engraved.
Reign There is only one T who rules them all, even the old Gods and young foreigners! In KR NA EU he did sprawl, ask all the zergs, they sure do remember.
Four times he did lift the only trophy, FOUR TIMES I SAY, not a mere achievement! Always he seems to impose his sophy, but two times, what a slight disagreement
He is M V P and long was his reign. Nowadays like a ghost he does behave, maybe he is healing his inner pain, even though secretly his plays I crave.
His micro and macro were some blessings, All hail the almighty! The king of wings!
1K Did you hear about the impressive feat, the two of them achieve, our dear COMRADES! I wonder what kind of sound was the beat, of them ,for hours typing on their numpads.
Maybe , the keys, they were just hammering, What am I saying? I should be dismantle! Their amazing work deserves an earning! And that is why they get the great title.
That goes with a great neat fruit-like color, close to the one of the ugly shitter, O well it is still an unmatched honor, while the other one is just a litter.
Yay! Yay! We did it! We did it reddit! 1 K campions without an edit!
Youth The first half spent wishing to be older... You already know that tale.Then it goes: the second spent wishing to be younger. This is just a matter of time that shows
that the wise -after times- got the knowledge, you need to lay back and enjoy the life. So, if right now you are in a college, get the hell out and embrace the nightlife.
For time is not only an enemy, it can also be such a great ally. But it does stay true to his renomee, of running fast and tending to fly-by.
Look at the future, don't swell on the past, for the -important- present does not last.
Pencil Let me tell you of an unknown hero, or heroine based on your idiom. his descendant is the famous biro. For art and math it is a medium.
his side-kick is made from wood just like him, but a form of carbon consists his core. Often of practice he is synonym, but it's the main tool of a great senor.
your mistakes, easily you can erase, but careful for it will not be lasting. Well used on paper, it shows lots of grace, of great creation it is forecasting.
O pencil, O wonderful sacred tool, To my lame prose, you are one of the fuel.
France O France, you are the great nation of cheese, yellow, white, red, orange, black or just blue, it will get you fat but it's such a tease, starve me from it and I become cuckoo.
O France, you are the great nation of wine, dry,white, "rosé", brown or red of bordeaux, without it the dinner you can decline, that "mon ami" is the life "au chateau"
O France, you are the great nation of bread, but also of the great viennoiseries, for all of them I could lose my lil head... Did I tell you of the rotisseries?
O France sweet country of freedom and schmucks, I offer to you this poem deluxe.
Zoolock First there is a neat class you have to pick, Let us try warlock, how bad can it be? this power...to my greed it gives a kick. Handlock, zoolock, malylock, hmm let's see...
What about zoolock? Will it be my grail? To my poor skill, it can be a lever. Sometimes to dig, leads you to a sure fail, but a good tap, it can be so clever!
Position, trade, tap, face, lethal, and bluff it gives me some deeper comprehension. However a win is never enough, to each season its own variation.
On the long road of success I should walk, for that my deck of choice is but zoolock.
Walking I wandered off the main sacrosanct road. I was tired of people passing by me, Even-though I had my own dull workload. I continue to walk under that tree,
The tree of life, big, scary and sacred, But I admit, I am tired of walking. I fear, my mind is, forever tainted. And "Matter of fact, I'm sick of talking".
This one is from B I G, rest in peace. To dust ultimately I might return, for now my will is on steady decrease. Nowadays, to sleep forever I yearn.
One step at a time I shall continue, I think I will stop here, what about you?
Game of thrones Together, under the snow, they all stand, Against the enemy they must defeat, This final epic poem is quite bland, But they have to unit for a final beat.
Tyrion is here, standing with Bronn his friend, Cersei is dead, it was a choice of great meme on the internet, o what a trend to make fun of her , o so common, fate.
It was brandon the warg who united, the fair and the red, whoever this is, and all of those who wished to be cited, to fight the whites wights who make you hairs frizz.
Then the world is back to his old routine. The story was never about a queen.
Journey Of one far away place I've been dreaming, where my temper would be lulled forever. I fear that the ailment might keep chasing my tortured soul that I want to sever.
I tried to flee the curse of my birthplace, alas I can't find a so needed rest. to find some sleep I filled me a bookcase, to help myself with this soul gnawing quest.
city to city, country to country, I walk, seat, lie, and always move forward, what I am looking for... a mystery even the plagues will not stop me, ONWARD!
My mind on the haven, I missed the key... My ...I forgot to enjoy the journey!
Jungle Stop and tell me, can you hear the rumble? It's from an ancient rite that it rises, it talks of an unthinkable battle, you heard of it, the one fight through the ages.
Around a fire they try and gather, to keep warm and pass the peace calumet, outside the circle, their voices wither, they smoke to forget about their kismet.
Sometimes one stands up and leave the haven, and into the fierce jungle he wanders All they mumble, did he move to heaven? or will he comes back with some wonders?
If one day you're lost, follow the river, or try and join us around the fire.
Fetish Girl when I think of you I fantasize, trying to figure what you are into, will you smoke while we do some exercise, maybe you want to read an impromptu?
that would be weird, but who am I to judge? your feet, your sweet ankle, your collar bone, I like them all girl, no need to prejudge, all I want is to cum on your cheekbone.
Let me access and read your bucket-list, maybe we can try and experiment, with multiple men? that on my blacklist... it's K though, to try toys is my preachment.
Please tell me, tell me you want to fuck me, I want to sutdy your anatomy.
Night. How much longer will last that awful night? I question myself as I roll over, wondering if that's a dream that I fight, or a simple case of a dull fever.
After all I see the sun, finally! Get up! Get dress! Escape this dream! I say, to my poor fully exhausted body for which to the church, with the priest, I'll pray.
At night I come back home and close the door, and I lie in the bed that I have made. Help me mother not that dream! not once more! I thought after all that time, it had fade!
Once again I wonder, Will I wake up? Or is it eternally my lock-up?
Winter I love winter and its white finery, the sky is light-grey and soon it turns dark. It's the month of chants and great cookery, Pick a book, take over at my bookmark
You see the dim lights from outside are blurred by the fuzzy mist and restless snowing. the fire place helps facing the blizzard, through the window you can see the lighting.
If you go outside you got to dress up, gloves, scarf, beanie, black timbs and a big coat, if your socks get wet come in and warm up, you don't want to get sick and miss the gloat!
It's winter time, neat time for a gamer! It's winter time, time of a good dinner!
Urge can you Tell me, do you feel that urge too, to plug online and put on that clown mask, because make up is not enough for you, quick jump on that chat, it is like your flask.
You are addicted, not to a substance, but to joke about your pathetic life. You tell some lies but you seek acceptance, online you are not afraid of a strife.
Maybe you should quit while you are ahead, stop complaining and start on the changes, you can do better you're not an airhead, go outside, come on leave those stupid douches
If it ever come back, the silent urge, let's talk, together we can fight the scourge
Cat All day it does sleep peacefully waiting, for the return of its faithful masters, on a bed or anywhere its fitting, dreaming of one venture or another.
Purring to show you sign of happiness, or to be thankful for such a nice meal, don't fear the butthead it is quite harmless, careful when you play, the claws peel for real.
Around 20 years, that is the sad side, of such a fantastic short love story, but don't dwell and focus on the upside, in your life more than once you were merry.
O majestic creature, to you I write this simple poem as a meek delight.
Farewell Dear friend, in my heart you crawled into once, and for the best and ever you changed me. "blings speedlings", I was in the audience "bat a roach bat a roach" still is funny!
Watching a stream here and there with YoGo, wondering if I could save the zerg swarm. won my first game, then we played in duo, and started practicing up to self-harm.
The pro scene I quickly became fond of, "terran op, protoss easy, zerg stupid" the weak but neat zergs I was a part of, being the villain and showing my greed
Even if those days we talk less and less... I still love you. Farewell Starcraft, God bless.
Diary Old friend, to you I come yet again, my dear friend, my witness, my diary, to tell you about my day and my pain also maybe because I feel lonely.
To hiding it I became a master, but how long can I keep the lie going? Sometimes I feel it's all friendly banter, but I know the truth is more depressing.
Aren't you tired, from me, constantly, to hear? Did I tell you of my other disease? Sorry, these are too much questions to bear. All I know of, is the constant unease.
Do not worry, that is it for today, goodbye for now. I'll see you next monday?
Red and Blue Blue as the endless sky on a clear day. Blue as the flowing idling peaceful stream. Blue as the nightingale singing in may. Blue as the fair lady's eyes of your dream.
Red as the delicate but thorny rose. Red as the feared fire and his embers. Red as the fine wine that awakes my prose. Red as the blood, heart, lips, cheeks and others.
They fight a fierce battle as old as time, like the sun collapsing into the sea. Or is that an embrace? A paradigm? The perfect idyll of a love story.
If they unite they lose all their oddness. Green...Yellow...yet our couple is ageless.
Shifting the focus You've heard of it, Out of sight, out of mind. flip the mirror and stop that ego fight, to then become a great of our small kind. Narcissists do exist, living their plight.
Is it thanks to their ego they advance? How to distinct with healthy self esteem? Should we denounce or praise their bizarre stance? Isn't all this worry, the same regime?
Don't think if you are or not self-centered, Instead focus solely on the right work, and also what makes you feel unhindered, while trying not to be another jerk.
You will never please everybody, but don't forget about humanity.
The Fall. Get to Work my dear friend my dear comrade! Not for the party but for human kind! Overcome tyranny! FOR LENINGRAD! Unite! Chin up! Stay true to your mind!
Work comrade! Work hard for our Republic. This winter is long, but do not worry, for the fight for our cause is politic. We fight the tainted ideology!
Work my people. COME ON WORK YOU WEAKLING! We are the greatest nation in the world. Always we should be bowing and praying, to our leader, the rest is netherworld.
"Get clean of the corrupted opium!" This is just another mausoleum...
fakerap1 It is whine y'all, plug and clean those earbuds, turn up the volume, open your bright mind, to your brain it nurtures like natal fluids, yep, as pleasant as the birth of mankind.
You noticed I am like a mad prophet, I perpetuate ancient rhymery, but I try to put in the same basket, the pleasant rhyming and the good story.
this one's the first, excuse the clumsiness, maybe I do need a bit of practice, gotta think about each move like at chess, gotta be agile and show some malice.
Thank you for your time I'll try to be back, maybe then I'll have figured out the knack.
fakerap2 Are you gonna stop all that damn rumbling, I try to appease my mind you stupid! I swear, your shit is infuriating, you are a shame, that's widely admitted.
Think about it for a second! Dear lord, do you believe we evolved into that? "nominated to the darwin award", that would be you motherfucking asshat!
Don't make me repeat that one more darn time, I swear to God I'll have your flat burned down! You are not worth even a single dime. You'd drive Buddha so mad he'd watch you drown...
Finally the jerk is done with his crap, 6 A M? I'm gonna shoot his kneecap!
Shitter They say I am all but a mere shitter, I just let my thoughts flow free in the chat, of course I don't apply any filter, sometimes It feels like I'm an automat.
They say I am completely retarded, I can't pretend else wise. They are not wrong, I write as some kind of twisted ballad. And sometimes my silly texts are quite long.
They say, before writing, I should think twice, but that is the nature of my message, and imagine if, in fact, I think thrice, in that case I have some real brain damage.
I am the shitter but I am quite proud, for my thoughts are just a wild thundercloud.
Sleep Sleep is yet again trying to take me, I am fighting to stay fully awake, to stay away from my demons I flee, if I close my eyes my person they rake.
Maybe if I drink one more coffee cup, or if I flush the damn medication, I will manage to finally stay up, then i'll just need a catchy distraction.
What? I can hear them in my head talking! But that cannot be, I am not asleep! I should be playing drawing or writing, to keep my mind from talking to the creep!
They say that sleep is the cousin of death, marry her? or is such talk shibboleth?
Dark It's a dark and worrisome time again. For a few hours, days, weeks or months even, I don't really know beside the pain, try to keep my head up, feels like burden.
The sky turns from a vivid blue to grey, sleep becomes my only activity, from food I have to try and stay away, I just wish for my life to pass quickly;
I lost hope of one day seeing colors, I start forgetting what it's like to live, but life's a road and I just need some spurs, some zeal, a reason, a goal, a motive.
I know the sun is gonna shine anew, I just doubt that this time I can get through.
Titans Let me tell you the myth of two goddess, the story of two rulers of their world. a well of fantasy close to endless, an odd fall that will spur your mind to whirled
One was slender and her hair made of gold, with a look as dangerous as the sea. such a looker, she left you uncontrolled, her hook on your heart, that's what you can't see.
Her twin was bosomy and her trail red, a magnificent creature I tell you, her grin! your restless agony it fed, "to punt then dinner", yes, you are cuckoo!
Alas the fine world they lead is now gone, at least no more of this dwelling till dawn.
redrum I can't avoid to look at the mirrors they are everywhere like God's restless eyes He, supposed to watch us, the meek actors He, able to tell the truth from our lies
Do others judge me too? Or thats a trick, played by my sick and narcissistic brain? I am just not sure what details they pick, Would knowing it, even save me some pain?
I wonder, can they see the despair? I wonder, can they guess about my scars? Sometimes I see them and their subtle glare, they look fierce like some majestic jaguars
I am sure they cannot see all my life, And Im pretty sure they won't see the knife...
until they unwrap the rap "for me?" "You damn right bitch" grab it then stab, stop! stab stab bust a cap in that habitat cuz you might look like you don't know I'm your God now, no? Stab! Until all that blood wasted on all that mud gets recycled into beautiful kaleidoscopic bud I'll light up and inhale whenever Cuz you couldn't see the forever tree in the forest N0 place here except for the best. *drops mic and bounces
Memory He wished he could grab her delicate hand... and suddenly he is back on the train. The one headed to a certain known land... To the ever aging memory lane.
The one road that build without a permit. The only path that never stop growing. It's not clear if one should be scared of it, And so he gives in to the faint singing.
They keep saying that he lives in the past. And he thinks of this sweet and vivid rose... But not only the precious time has passed. Maybe that is why he is so morose.
He takes out the weed and leaves a bouquet, No madeleines needed for this birthday.
Silence From a young age I had a tendency of being greedy. A true collector, my little trait of personality. You see, I always wanted a treasure.
Speech is silver but silence is golden You can see where I am going, can't you? But my silence has became a burden, for gold without silver has no value.
Most interpret my silence as wisdom, unfortunately my case is sadder, sometimes it even makes me feel lonesome... My ideas, simply, hold no valor.
You can see it is a lots of nonsense, I raise ignorance as my poor defense!
Isolation has destroyed my mind-set, I can no longer agree with my peers, even when I want to, O the regret...
sometimes though I do show some kind of cheers, although I wish to get things all controlled, a balance between my heart and my brain, a balance of copper, silver and gold a chemistry to cure me of my pain...
Or maybe this is part of my profile, and maybe I ought to acclimate to it, to this weird mixture defining my style... I shall disagree with all but the wit!
I babble so much in the written form... but when ask to talk, silence is my norm.
Time Life is but a cold path of solitude, Friendship and unsuitable love don't hold, time consumes all like a sumo eats food, in the end we are all alone and cold
Life is but a ride, through mounts and valleys Through deep sadness and sparkling joy alike both are keys to our sorrows and frenzies, That is if your deal with time businesslike, for time heals some wounds and deepens others, ask the ones who have lost their better-half, and now must live alone in their chambers they will stare and then at your question laugh
For time is all but a long sharpened knife, that runs on the soft skin, that looms on life.
[This one is a short story, the quality is pretty bad, but I wanted to try the format] Part one First Sight By a bright day, the air by cherries scent infused. His eyes met her holy figure. her walking created a whole event, around her the entire world seems altered, each head turning to witness the angel, the passing of such a delightful soul, magnificent, sacred, and pale petal, attached to life's flower, she makes a whole.
And here stands our hero reading a book, by her he was straight infatuated, stricken like an old tree by a lone look, love at first sight, love of the dim-witted,
For love needs to be infant of nurture, for she will take back her rights, dame nature.
Seduction At first he made sure to show his best wit, by glancing at her, he noticed her smile, he also noticed her gazing at him, all those signals, he was head over heels.
She made sure to always be seen smiling, she made sure to always make eye contact she made sure to always tell a greeting she cast her net, showing sufficient tact.
Quickly they started talking more and more, exchanging numbers and others info, then they started talking from night till four, they were more connected than frozen snow.
finally he did what she expected, and then they were officially bounded.
Amour The world was spinning in the other way, everything was of more vivid color, of love, their couple was a real cliche, time seems to be out of the dear picture.
They spent each and every lunch together, they dined together every other night, they did half-watch more movies than ever they put music but didn't listen quite...
that time was the easier of their life, and that is how they will remember it, Often he thought of making her his wife, time was running, that they would not admit...
What the universe once gives, he takes back, this as true a formula as ducks quack.
Death She was walking down the road one dark night, he won't forget, he could have gone to hers... did she put up a fierce-till-the-end fight? or did she let death take her, he wonders.
A drunk lost control of his vehicle, or was the universe being jealous? Now he is the one chugging a bottle, anyway, his days are now all aimless...
Well, this is how another story ends or maybe it is just the beginning, it's a mess he no longer comprehends one thing is certain, he is all brooding.
They met, they loved, then suddenly she died, now, never will she be a lovely bride.
Part two Depressed I lay in the dark, the sun burns my skin, the scents smell like the foul-smelling cattle I am a withered flower in a bin, life is but and endless uphill battle.
I keep hearing a gruesome opera. The doctor prescribed me some magic pills, he told there is no such thing as karma and all I see are the expensive bills.
O you my dear, fair, beloved princess, in this life, I have not a conquest left O you my dear, sacred, precious mistress, to all the world's wonders I have been theft
Everything seems to be going askew... I wish to be put asleep and join you.
Anxiety I do not know how far into the ages, I'd to look for the descent of my spleen. I think I have written it on some pages, It might have started while I was just a teen.
After my short first love and addiction, With my body and mind still in shaping, I did slowly give in to depression, and I became the anxiety king.
After some talks and medication though, I am slowly starting to live again. Or is it my brain playing the banjo? To hide an upcoming amount of pain?
Tonight I shall sleep without even a fight, And tomorrow I might smile , yes, I might…
Pact with the devil Pact with the devil After a night of hallucination, I met with an odd ageless entity claiming to be Satan's incarnation and she told me her trickiest story, I was to be sent to hell to meet her, if I did so, one wish would be granted, I had to be careful of the liar, or else I would be another baited. I couldn't resist meeting my honey I gave in to the diabolic dance, I decided to go in the abyss and into the devil eyes stare briefly,
But life can never be altered mind you and death will do anything to hook you.
Descent The descent. Slowly he went through the circles of hell, simply by falling down a magic well.
First the unbaptized and pagans, limbo then came the one of carnal pleasure, Lust then gluttony, where he fights a sumo the fourth is greed, where even the coins rust He controlled his wrath with wild vehemence faced the non believer in heresy, then fought his weird neighbors in violence, before reaching the circle of copy, The circle of such prohibited lies, Fraud. That stands before the dreaded circle, the one where he had to question his eyes treachery the ninth and final level.
Part three. Meeting Finally he reached the most dreaded place, took some deep breath before meeting his host stopped and admire such an un-commonplace, a place where he should avoid getting lost.
the devil was with both her arms opened ready for a guest of such importance, to play her cards rights she was determined, to gain a new soul was her malfeasance,
the most precious price of all to her eyes, the less valuable thing to her guest, he was just seeking the one who now lies, that was the mission he was invested
only God can understand the bargain, each wanting to trade in the same token…
Dance with the devil "What is that you are gonna ask wise boy?" so it has started, the game of charade, "we can talk, before you tell your answer" satan knew she had the edge in the trade, The offer was just here to play more tricks, but he knew she could read him like a book in this disgusting and horrendous styx "I want my lady back" he told the crook "without any memories?" she did hiss "of course not, let me think you devil bitch" "of course my young man, do not be remiss" slowly an idea started to itch...
about it, you could write an entire shelf, he was to ask about their love itself.
The final answer After a long time of deep reflection, he had finally found a good answer, from the start it was of adoration, more than the fleshy-shell of his lover.
he built up enough courage and then said: "I want to find true love again, you hear?", he was sure that would bring back his dear dead for he was living in his little sphere
"very well, go back from where you come from" "and I shall grant your wish then" she did say then there was a symbol on his left palm where until he was back upstairs would stay
each tragedy got its naive hero, that go against the Gods, against life’s flow.
Going back bit by bit he was feeling much better, each step bringing more joy to his brave heart, his mind too was becoming way lighter, he was on the road to a newly start.
There was something about his memory, he did not realize. It was fading. That every step was a real tragedy of its own. He was too busy singing
then finally he reached back the deep well, and climbed it more easily than he thought for sometimes the taxing obstacles quell... Back to normal, that's the life he just bought!
The devil has many tricks up her sleeves, the oldest one is simple: she deceives!
Part four: New love He had almost forgotten his old love, and now he met a new tempting woman, her eyes color of exotic olive, this time he swore he wouldn't jump the gun,
but after sometimes they got together, an union that wouldn't and couldn't last, for love is like white dough to a baker: his previous form belongs to the past
what he didn't know was so obvious, this new love was the devil in disguise, everyone would warn him but love is vicious, he ignored every last one of the guys
sometimes the pain is inevitable, some other times the pain is likeable.
Breakup and cycle And one bright day, it all happened again, he lost, yet again, his dearly loved one, but this time no death involves, no drunk men, just a "normal" break up still nothing fun
and then he fell back into depression, he even had bits of anxiety, then he thought about the incarnation, something was fishy about their story,
What give that the gruesome pact did not last? he starts for the well in a fast motion, he went through all the circles in a blast, found her and he asked the only question:
"I asked for true love, why am I so sad?" "true love is always lost, the rest is [a] fad"
Pokemon red The choice was either the red of fire, or blue of the majestic sleeping sea, the yellow form later you could acquire, and green always would stay a mystery.
At first you had to leave your cosy room, if you ask me, not only in the game for the immersion was like a good boom, the kind you don't forget, one that means fame.
The starter was another special trick, for my sake let's not speak of the green one, the real choice was between the dragon pick and the blue turtle of mass destruction
Red and fire is for the fierce fighter, blue and water is for the fast runner.
Summertime Feel that light breeze on your tanned and young skin, helping cooling you down by this hot day, barely caressing the top of your gin, a soft and tepid blow you wish would stay
there is a scorching sun outside this shade, right now you do not wish to be moving, tempted by the water color of jade, you wait the right time by slightly drowsing
relaxing to the murmurs of the sea time on this sweet sweet day seems to have stopped, and you sip on some freshly made iced tea... is it time to wet his suit you just shopped?...
it is summer time and school is over, enjoy it for youth won't last forever.
can you hear my roaring? I am the poet can you hear me sing? I am the minstrel can you hear me play? I play the trumpet can you read my words? This is my novel
can you hear me scream? this is my release can you hear me cry? this is my pillow can you feel the warmth? this is my soft fleece can you see my footprints? this is my snow
can you hear me laugh? this is my mirror can you hear me pant? this is my pillar can you hear my faith? this is my parlor can you see my stuff? this is my cellar
This is all that I share and even more, this is my most guarded, secret tresor
sc:bw boot the computer and connect to fish, it is ageless and forever will be, being good at it take more than a wish, it requires you to have enough envy,
envy to be the best amongst the best envy to play the most demanding game envy to puts lots of time, to invest in it, and finally envy of fame
in my heart, in my mind, in my fingers in my back, in both my eyes and my ears the game crawled in like some discreet whispers, it has been painted, it created fears
Broodwar! o the joy you manage to bring, All hail the king ! Broodwar! long live the king!
1on1 sometimes one needs to spend time with himself, to give your powerful neurons a boost so take that sleeping chess board of your shelf because what could be better than a joust?
1 versus 1 is a gown quite fitting, to those of minds which can't stand company or those who strive for a perfect showing, for those there should be a game to study.
whether it is hearthstone, broodwar or chess, go, a fighter, warcraft or a shooter, every game you take you'll show some progress there is a game for every hard worker
A neat team blossoms like an orchestra, but one on one echo like a mantra.
Snow I turned on the light and saw the white snow, light, pure, cold, dense snow at my balcony I see some on the tree, close to a crow O the odd contrast, I wish you could see!
snow is like youth, pure and ephemeral, cold by nature, her games can hurt too don't play smart talking of the eternal, that would ruin my prose, you cock a die doo!
as I watch it I become more involved, all of a sudden it's me on the branch I am the young one, next to the dark clothed if we unite ...beware the avalanche! together youth can take shapes and harden...
Neige FR je dormais confortablement dans ma chaumière vivant dans mes rêves de capes et rapières courant et sautant sur les toits avec maîtrise quand j'ai ouvert les yeux et O quelle surprise, de la NEIGE! blanche froide royale poudre
sur une branche, avec un merle au bec de foudre, je me suis pris a rêver ainsi qu'a penser, "la neige est comme la jeunesse" a résoné, dans mon esprit, qui -simplet, je le reconnaît-, fait parfois preuve de raisonement concret la neige est comme la jeunesse disais-je, qui en groupe peut faire face a des enjeux, qui seule ne peut rien, mais une fois groupée...
broodwar Hi, let me recount a tale from afar, it's the story of a game called broodwar.
First Broodwar is not for the light hearted it isn't for kids, but rather for titans, it is likeable by simple-minded, by geniuses, believers and pagans
it's not just a game, it's a discipline, one that require practice beyond reason but to play broodwar is the greatest thing any real player could experience or an audience willing and paying enough attention to the high cadence
the game is like a battle really, between two reaching for infinity, a fight like a joust or some ancient rite, with borderline attention to details, each player crafting like they were some wright, hitting each key like a joiner hits nails, to shape the coffin of their opponent.
to do this they have many tools and skills: a p m, macro, micro and placement the cycle's like produce, fights then refills
but you have to play with some barriers, path finding, and hotkeys are barbaric, those are not archaic but some measures that you find in poetry or music for starcraft is another kind of art from the split to the gg in the chat
so join us, accept broodwar in your heart i c cup and fish is where it is at
here, some tricks for you to take on your road take out a key or two from your keyboard, to become fast spam until overload make some workers, scout with your overlord
starcraft broodwar is truly fantastic starcraft broodwar is truly majestic
I did rewrite a song for an english presentation, here it is, the original is Lil Wayne - Dear Anne; [Hook] Out of sight, out of mind, out of time to decide Do we run? Should I hide for the rest of my life?
Dear meadow I am sorry you are now a widow Lately I have been feeling low even with my Lexapro I don't feel anything this is all just hollow I hope this is not too heavy and you can follow the message is important so please pay attention to my flow And I'm thinking of life, meadow, and wrong and right, meadow sometimes I got some flight , my prose flies like a crow... you know that in front of you I will always bow dear meadow to you my love I bestow of course I won’t lie, I liked when you blow and I even loved more to suck on your toe but we were not just two nympho meadow some of those words are dirty but you know it's all for the show meadow don't mind me just some words that I throw maybe I should have taken things a bit more slow? it's unfortunate that I was your beau meadow..., page one
[Hook] Out of sight, out of mind, out of time to decide Do we run? Should I hide for the rest of my life?
I figured this is brutal, I am sorry, my lil’ angel... but sometimes I believe you have to be the devil cause it’s bullshit how sexy you are from toes to nostrils I wanted you even if it meant to be in some kind of peril... see, lately I have been dealing with an inner battle and still I remember the first days even if my brain shrivel you were my secret muse and our love was musical you inspired me, you made me feel like Virgil so much inspiration so much work for my pencil now this is over and I feel caged like an animal even though I am still the same, clumsy, stupid and asocial but with you I felt like I could be a cardinal I am so sorry princess I am, even if this is mental too bad there is no remedy for my tormented soul you were my everything Meadow, our love is eternal... page two
[Hook] Out of sight, out of mind, out of time to decide Do we run? Should I hide for the rest of my life?
Dear admirer, that's how I started before being your lover in my eyes you sparked, you were always such a wonder, it made me a believer, it made me thankful to our creator he truly is a master and I believe he is a baker for your buns and cookie would trigger my hunger I am sorry this is dirty again, don't tell my sister or mother but when you touched me I felt a rush of fever I am sorry I wish we could stay together forever don’t beat yourself this all my fault, all my error I hope to not give you too much night terror here again I am ranting I have always been a babbler this is kinda tragic, I hoped I’d find an answer but more and more I feel like a prisoner I took so much pills, once again I made a blunder There is no coming back I am grabbing the razor... I hope at least you get that letter...
[Hook] Out of sight, out of mind, out of time to decide Do we run? Should I hide for the rest of my life?
I have a poem. Your poetry has inspired me to write it down:
"Heaven reeks of cigarettes" Heaven reeks of cigarettes, and Earth is a coffin full of ash. The rivers run ripe with regrets and addict angels are ready to crash. God spits in the river and scratches his ass and takes a sip of liquor, worrying about the past. He forgets that he's nude and puts on a suit and waves to the crowd that fall to his boots; -Fonze
Nature I am torn between fight and acceptance of the nature of my body and mind they are always mixing in my conscience and the truth seems impossible to find
from dusk till dawn I could still be looking without results as i am ignorant at the end I would still be wondering: is it better to talk or stay silent? should I fight or accept all the weirdness? should I stop carrying so many masks? maybe I ought to stop my selfishness, and finally complete my basics tasks.
Sometimes living feels like I'm an actor "All the world’s a stage..." is it the answer?
I ain't no Poet, but I'm feelin a freestyle brewin up in my cypher, and Ima let it loose on my coprophag bitches up in Here I go, Uh! Recentleeeaahhyyyeeeaaah, doos git caught up in my ass-crack haaaaaaiir; Gotta trim that isht short to-a millimetah gotta get my ass to stop smellin like a cheetah's bum-hole I roll up a blunt and get a clue. I've been acting afool, tryin to get myself to stool; when all I needed do was get moe activiah; that isht will make yo isht rain like on rihanna's umbrella. I watchin some porn, gonna get my wank on now. So long *mic-drop gong follows up a bow*
blade take the razor again, unscrew the blades I know the maneuver well o too well take it carefully, ready to evade the stinging pain reach my brain like a bell awaking the demon that was asleep allowing me to feel pain and rejoice I want but won't yell the cuts aren't so deep at least I stop hearing that silly voice
I have to be careful and hide the scars no problem I'm the master of disguise I got so many masks and avatars now to screw them back before the blood dries
this is my routine, my little secret one of amongst many that I regret
I haven't done poetry in a while, shitty one (as always) but hey need to (re)start somewhere!
wind of change close your eyes and feel the wind on your face "wind of change? is it something beautified?..." the dove flies through it with natural grace do just like her, deploy your wings and glide
when the tempest come you have to be strong nothing to fear if your designs are pure this is but an old motto, an old song but it holds the truth, of that I am sure
jointly we can make a greater future we can stop this stupid endless madness, first we need to let go of our anger then free ourselves from the greed and sadness
communism is a dream, capitalism is outdated, we need a new anthem...
feeling inadequate I don't feel like I belong to a crowd everyplace I go feel inadequate see in a sense it always gets too loud it's like I need to hide in the closet
I'm an outsider and always will be, this is not about sex or my gender but more about a mental state, you see ?
I believe it all come from my mother like genetics and environment wise course I can't blame it all on my mommy I did fuck up big times no need for lies and maybe it is cause of my daddy...
in the first place I have been dealt weird cards it is up to me to, cannot discards
the monster you can run but there is no place to hide when yourself is your own worst enemy try to silence the voices like the tide but they are as persistent as the sea
silently they wait until you're alone then strike as pernicious as possible the medication can hold that cyclone but drop your guard and they'll crash your skull
I know only of one neat solution but everyone will all warn you against it... like they know this struggle o so common ? if they did they would also want to quit...
maybe try to tame the savage monster at least you will grow to be a fighter
day dream first I graduate with my bachelor then I complete a master in english, find a job and meet somebody's daughter with whom I got to explore my fetish
I got motivation to restart sport hit the gym, basketball or start running I lose weight and fit again in my short I learn enough to give in to coaching
then I got a kid with my lovely wife a girl named Alice, Anne or Catherine she grow up to succeed and smile at life and one day I lay in my bed serene...
Loser? earth to Loser... read the text please it was a dream... my brain is such a tease...
birds chanting Can you hear the far away birds chirping ? They chant about freedom and their own world Wonderful stories they keep on telling but could it be all vicious lies, my lord ?
I'm not sure about the veracity about all the wonders and such grandeur it seems too cray and wonderful, you see ? if those are lies it would be a bummer
But sometimes I listen to their discourse, they tell us that the truth they have been taught and how everyone got a car and a house they tell us how they will never be caught!
So I went to see and asked our great sage He said: "They are just like us... in a cage"
sickle and hammer As the sun always does, we rise again united under one strong red banner our life for this idyll is a bargain we fight for a next communist chapter
one day our grand grand kids will understand that all that we did was only for them that for equality and love we stand that we shaped this world like a precious gem
unit brothers, unite sisters, let's go march together toward golden greatness follow the star, in this darkness we glow be a proud great communist, be fearless
together under the golden sickle with the hammer our damn foes we tackle
death penalty everyday he waits in his guarded cell, what he did doesn't matter no longer his fate? decided by the personnel to all eyes he is the evildoer
everyday he counts the same tasteless meals, one day, one will finally bring him peace he does not know when, there is no reveals he won't know until the last bit, last piece
such is the way in some foreign prisons such is the famed capital punishment he had time to think of his decisions the debt isn't paid till the attainment
one day The guy will come, giving the blast the convicted final thoughts? 'free at last'
never good enough after hours and hours spent thinking inside you cannot seem to grasp the difference... between self esteem and undeserved pride between foul arrogance and confidence
could it be impostor syndrome maybe? another lie ;you are not successful hence no achievement to have this curtsy or is the circle coming around full ?
and still you feel a weird sense of greatness it is there somewhere look a bit deeper! only you know this is just pure madness: you are average and that's too bitter
just quit comparing yourself to others and let go of your various angers
to my father(1); everyday he gets older and older his figure is not as straight as before it's clearer now; he won't live forever his back hurts; weaken like the Commodore
everyday he is closer to his bed over the years his weight has gone crazy wife's barely recognize him from their wed' cruel medicine didn't help sadly
can barely walk, and not without his cane can not hear whispers, cannot bite his cheek... one day he was strong; almost inhumane and the next day he became sick and weak
wife, lover, kids, jobs, pets he got it all now he waits his final sleep, don't we all?
to my father(2) once a fierce moutain now an hollow hill; from a volcanoe to a sleeping knoll; age stroke you as thunder to the windmill you became stiff as a sun bathing troll
once an ocean, now just a muddy pond; you rose high as waves but crashed forever your tombstone will be found by vagabond, as a sunk boat unveiled by explorer
you used to whirl as a wild hurricane, now blow like a summer's refreshing breeze, a whisper of a past life, a past reign you carried your share of clouds; paid your fees
you saw all the seasons now is the time it sadden me so much, can't find a rhyme...
no inspiration another dozen-ish of hollow lines I want to write, I want to give my best but got no idea. Is that god's signs? maybe he is putting me to the test
I am like a kid walking down the beach wanting to tame the ocean, take it down but the water would stay out of his reach not knowing that if he did, he would drown
so long ago... can't recall my last spout waiting, I emptied so many kettle... I believe my ocean might have dried out... it was more like a lake or a puddle
then finally ends this silly poem a slow one... hope you don't die of boredom
the maiden he saw her first at this umpteenth wash house, her skin pearly white; hair golden as wheat a field he wanted to sooner espouse her eyes as blue as stream the clothes meet
her lips were luscious and red as a rose no doubt you have to act with precaution like avoiding stepping on thorns or toes when dancing to the song of seduction
her laugh was like the chirping of a bird making one with the flow of the river giving dear nature one more daughter, word hands gentle as dew, or so you wonder
but that was in a burg, one of many he wished to return aft' the enmity
Sleeping beauty she is smart, tall, young, fair, svelte and gracious, she used to run like a deer in the wood so pretty, it is almost outrageous in this bleak world, she was all that is good
but one day she did a fatal mistake simply getting into a stranger car not realizing here what was at stake that was after her hours at the bar
now a stray walker has found her ashore her body, to all eyes completely naked she is pale, her cheeks now without color she is as lifeless as the nearby mud
sometimes what a pure gift causes your fall with her it's her beauty we will recall
Narcos The scorching sun hits my pale gringo skin All while the wine clears my tight and dry throat I daydream of becoming the kingpin of this mansion, its garden and the boat
but for now all I have is my hunger one that can not be tamed by any meal I could work a common job forever and still I would think this is surreal
this was built with the dirtiest money still don't know how they do the laundering can't complain though, I get a salary but it makes the ill world o so tempting
at least I won't be rotting in no jail but death is too the reward if you fail
stuck in a cell wake up, eat, study, eat, study, eat, sleep rinse and repeat to dodge a grim career wake up, eat, work, eat, work, shop, eat, clean, sleep rinse and repeat eleven months a year
truth is you lay down the bricks of your path that you'll walk til' you run out of heartbeats of course others' luck will trigger your wrath don't let failures overshadow your feats
one day you will pay for the damages some fools think there is a fair set price list but that is far from how god manages and don't forget that your wrong deeds exist
you are free so don't wake up to a bell and realize that you built your own cell
sand in an hourglass, up and down it goes, greatness to sadness, temper as the glass looks solid, ends up in pieces; some woes? not as much as your foes; le coup de grace being death; finally at peace, all dark started with light,the circle is complete curtains fall,a show full of episodes lots of water, you embark on the ark everything in pairs, same and opposite, ying yang, black white; to unusual roads,
noir, mysterious, source of a polar, goat's song; an endless cycle, regular such is the story of a bipolar
potpourri indivisibility is our prime, all on the same ark, on the same school car, babel ain't bout alliance but nature climb the next step is the rocket, to afar!
we face the same wrath, c02's a cloud, knows no frontiers; maybe we shouldn't too, we survived the bombs and formed a crowd, earth is shaking, open our arms, gates, view
save the oceans, forests; and our city? get up, let's them out, off, be patient, kind... all those lil moves, that's solidarity hold the door, apologize, don't cut, mind...
it's not about being a sub, managed, it's just show you are the bigger one, schooled
every move is planting that olive tree, think of the wise they knew back then, like Ceos the unproved theorem, the stone's clear key lesson's simple, the teachers are cientos
the dreamer's asleep, yet we ain't awake... did you take notes? a race of a weird kind.. all in that torpor, still after the quake we rebuilt the ruins, what about our minds ?
to friends: our tables, aren't our spoons long 'nuff ? we like to dress up, y not dress others ? shelters, elders, youth, there is so much stuff... we love to learn, let us be the teachers... !
as you see I don't know much 'bout the yard this was a rambling. I'm a simple bard
this one is really bad, just to practice some rhyme no sense at all another one coming soon after that.
rambling for christmas I feel stressed out, I should've gotten out I'm laughing and turning hysterical been drinking whisky until I black out adding coffee so I'm maniacal
my thinking can't be deemed manichean talking to random girls cause I'm lustful hateful too, shouldn't tell my practician doubtful bout it, also I've turned hurtful
sexting into lying feels cathartic that game I know some will say is gruesome but it helps me feel way less pathetic
that story was not really wholesome writing while I'm turned on by a bosom those were just rhymes for my style to blossom
Got a weird idea and tried to experiment a little:
lots of education that’s my story it's all joyous until I was a sophomore I could dissert about Dalloway and existentialism
then in my formation came the specilization I was not interet by hitory and economy I was so dubious bout my future it got me anxious what kind of expert could I convert myself into, it was already May and everyday I’d try to be live through hedonism and epicureanism
then I used my imagination to find liberation and satisfaction using my sanity and bravery to make a choice for eternity I wasn’t so curious about life but it’s precious and should be delicious, I was closing door, but there were galor to open, just needed a bit of valor then I decided to invert my time into a desert to find a dessert like taking a highway or railway, away from barbarism or loyalism but more into moralism, mens sana yadda ydda
my illusion became a creation of a machination and idealization and then my mind committed treachery, everything became blurry and eerie, I thin k I became zany, my emotions were various, from furious to nervous all while being humorous, I was drifting furthermore from the shore more and more way from softcore, I became inert, no more alert, insert the disease here, whatever you advert, I turned into a runaway sending mayday but the bay was out of sight, I became a stray, danger was exercising its magnetism didn’t know what to believe communism or protectionism, racism or creationism
I was an abomination trying to find a cushion in a mansion to fusion my anger with desperation the imagery of my mind was like sorcery got me fidgety not free but crazy every task seemed laborious and enormous, while superfluous and atrocious not gracious looking for hardcore distancing my self from being a donor for any commodore that would take me out my stupor I was a pervert clicking on advert to divert myself that was my little covert to look at pert ass now this is a portray that dismay me, but I’m out of that strange holiday, I walk down the doorway getting to that hallway, I kept a weird mannerism, remind people of expressionism turned away from amateurism hope I won’t get an aneurysm but I have lots of optimism.
christmas time waking up to a white christmas nice sight dreaming of going up and down those hills don't unwrap your package before midnight think of the bells, they're source of muffled shrills
candy and treats, always some new bars tenders chick for some, crispy and juicy christmas movies with your favourite stars chimney all clean, fire just by the tree
for the gifts don't forget some batteries prepare your socks, put them up for santa cookies 'n' milk, lots of deliveries Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la, ha!
ambiance is set, now find a nice spot but wait, that smell! time to stir the hot pot
I feel like I can't reach the next step, always a bit missing, this one I kinda like though: Annie you play the innocent, still as water you open to any twist really, or you ask for a screw, he a player, or with a pop, on new year specially
you're caged and fulfill that role pretty well your singing and dancing is known to all your smell and robe too, so let's swirl ma belle your butt matters too. you break if you fall
destroyed like our life, too much and you kill but leaving you would be so damn harmful shelves of your kind, we always pay the bill! you piss me off! make me throw up! charmful
in your embrace I'm warm, you grip my guts you make the real me come to life, that's nuts
PS: is the subject obvious? Tell me if it's easy to see what this is about beside a woman...
Tomorrow... the idea takes you to wonderland, you've fallen through so many rabbit holes, spent hours dwelling on it, it grazed your hands, it appears in your dreams, tale as the scrolls
you keep saying one day maybe. Stop it! you give yourself heart and soul, so lil' gain but the struggle...sadly you can't bear it and yet another year has passed, again
after a few springs, you wake up one day your body stiff, past your time, past your prime your idol are of the past, all is grey, the younger scene has taken over. I'm
here alone, you think in your illusion in your fantasy , your sole creation
waiting always expecting something to happen, you look at the clocks and keep wondering, a feather? is this an angel fallen, it's just a pigeon, you keep on waiting
it strikes midnight, it's yet another day one or two hours and you will fall asleep what keeps you awake silly, if I may ask? A pit of memories, ascent's steep
next day you open your eyes and here it is, the one day you have been waiting for you look at the clock, tick tock bit by bit a ray of sun, is it the creator?
it's just a cloud passing, nothing to see take a nap, dinner ...it's midnight, blimey
update refresh the page for new exciting news orange lil square and you are curious. proof is you who click on it to see what brews clickbait catch your eyes but you got wise no goof!
with books the page you turned to see the next new thing. the fresh nice whiff of baked lil cakes which cause your gut to crave them, like a text to your great brain, it is a comp', their takes
not mine! for thoughts some food! some subs, some chans, you're subs to loads of feeds, you sated your greed of free and fun lil larks and tweets to fans, to press, the world doesn't sleep nor stop, as weed
it grows on all at hand support! press it, f five, the key to see the new hip hit
trash and bash mistreated, cash missing, failed artist. crashed life, down and trapped, nice day no flow, bad day no drops, opposite maybe, always smashed, taking all you can, found a place to lay?
the dark now, cold too, danger, ep'n'phrine, hunger, thirst, rash, shame, anger first, trash same paper needed to dream, without you're in your head too long it breaks, end of the game
you think they are brash, but you did not plan, some cash one day? damages that can't be erased, with you, in you, are you, as brann, feel the grip of a life you try to flee
your flow will stop, then they'll remember, that, of society you're a member
two friends two sitting, chatting, about all and noth', as birds muttering under the sun light as frogs ribitting before eating moth, discussions gets heated and then they fight
they talk about gossip, and work and love they talk about past present and future they watch pedestrians, wait for the dove the one of peace for the world and nature
the one they hope to one day grow old in season after season, then year's over and never 'gain will they meet, to the bin their work, memories fade of him, of her
she meets a friend and the stories repeat he meets a friend, old secrets to his pit
it gets lonely you wake up, not quite laying in your bed in the kitchen, first to turn on the light you think of the day, alone in your head time to commute, avoid eyes, avoid fight
at work 'ly your manager talk to you then there is only the mumble around lunch time, everyone groups', if only you knew how hold a convo, you don't make a sound
commute back home, glancing at all the pairs and you realize how alone you are, how the world surely has to be impair, maybe you should hit another bar
meal for one, silverware for one, single bed, you go to sleep til the next jingle
avoid you can not let them get close, like a tsar, you can not let them to get to know you and you can not let them see who you are you can not tell them how much you like them
for you are a monster deep down, a clown a faceless, pit of hatred and disgust a manipulator, abuser, drown them, betray them after earning their trust
but you don't have a personality you are scared of the smallest commitment you are scared of all kinds of rejection you are even disgusted by yourself
not worth a dime, narcissistic crazy man, in your world, filled by anxiety
switch I often flick it on and off, by choice or not. Vivid to create and push through colder, to give it to my other voice joining my sole friend whom to me stays true
when it's amiss I can lose my temper, but sometimes I hate the brightness, blinding me in my quest of becoming bitter, not an holy one, but to my liking,
I feel safer on this path, of self harm at least more so than with the other twin, though with each embrace I hear the alarm, I still come back to my cold harmful kin
at night I always turn it off to sleep each day I feel around and be a sheep.
You consistently write in the demanding sonnet form. What are your thoughts on the sonnet, and on other forms of poetry?
Each line pretty strictly contains ten syllables and you keep to the tight rhyme scheme of the sonnet, so you seem dedicated to some more formal, traditional elements. But not when it comes to rhythm - i.e. if I am not mistaken, you seem to deviate from iambic rhythm, and actually to be quite free with rhythm. What are you thoughts on rhythm in poetry generally, and what role does rhythm play in your own poetry?
I try to stick to sonnet, the rhymes are something wrong but not on purpose, I'm not a native, and I don't stick to the rhythm as I find it nearly impossible, I try it from time to time, I did it recently and it's hell.
When it comes to poetry, I think it should at least rhyme, and the numbers of syllables is a plus to me, but from what I've seen on internet there are lots of modern poetry that a more free. If the syllables or rhythm is awkward that is not an issue to me, but not rhyming lines is really weird as it sounds more like quotes or text more than poetry.
Rhythm is something I should try to work on, but I find it very hard so I'm not too sure if I'll switch to the next gear or stay with the false sonnet aspects.
I agree that rhymes are pleasant! And of course you are totally right to say rhythm is ignored by lots of modern poets - but then so, sometimes, are rhymes
Seems like you are doing great without rhythm and if it's difficult to add I can see why you would decide you don't care about it. Definitely don't need to work on it, I was just wondering about the modern flair in the very traditional form. And I don't mean to suggest the sonnet is "false"! Just interested to hear your thoughts.
That said, if you are curious to see examples of English poetry without rhyme, Shakespeare wrote (mostly? a lot...) in blank verse, which is iambic (unstressed/stressed) pentameter (five feet per line, i.e. ten syllables) WITHOUT rhymes. Milton, who is the most epic poet in English (by far) in my opinion, actually wrote as the preface to Paradise Lose an explanation for why he rejects rhyming altogether.
And then Chaucer, probably my favourite poet, wrote mostly [actually I think exclusively? I can't think of an exception, save his prose obviously) in heroic couplets - AA, BB, CC, etc.... so he was addicted to rhyme. So, even just between the three greatest English poets there is the full range of views on rhyming: from rejecting it entirely, to using it sometimes, to using it always.
There are moments of really nice poetry and then sometimes it's like it becomes convoluted by words. Anyways there's an S on "stay" "to me stays true"
switch I often flick it on and off, by choice or not. Vivid to create and push through colder, to give it to my other voice joining my sole friend whom to me stays true
Is rhythm only about stressed unstressed and the numbers of syllables or does it go deeper? If it does and you have any resources to learn about it I'll be glad to look at them, if you don't have the resources I'll probably look for some on my own don't fret it. I will also take a look at those authors works, I only know of Shakespearean sonnets. I have to look at enjambent and "prosodie" (french word).
Quick edit, I see what an enjambent is, I think "half" enjambent are good too (when you have a meaning, then it add another little aspect to it!) and prosodie seems to be the rhythm too (still not sure if there is more than stressed unstressed, maybe the musicality doesn't have a name while it gets specific to a poem).
I corrected it, thanks for the input, it is indeed the whole challenge to stay constant through the whole poem(s). My "dream" is to write (a) poem(s) telling a story and keeping the imageries alive all along, and adding multiples layers of meaning to it would be awesome, but I'm really far from any of that, I don't work on it enough, I always say I'll work on my poem, but as soon as the first draft is over I have the urge to publish it and be done with it. I also don't read poetry, and don't practice, laziness laziness...
On February 18 2018 02:25 Gurderoy wrote: Is rhythm only about stressed unstressed and the numbers of syllables or does it go deeper? If it does and you have any resources to learn about it I'll be glad to look at them, if you don't have the resources I'll probably look for some on my own don't fret it. I will also take a look at those authors works, I only know of Shakespearean sonnets. I have to look at enjambent and "prosodie" (french word).
I corrected it, thanks for the input, it is indeed the whole challenge to stay constant through the whole poem(s). My "dream" is to write (a) poem(s) telling a story and keeping the imageries alive all along, and adding multiples layers of meaning to it would be awesome, but I'm really far from any of that, I don't work on it enough, I always say I'll work on my poem, but as soon as the first draft is over I have the urge to publish it and be done with it. I also don't read poetry, and don't practice, laziness laziness...
Well that sounds like a great goal. I think the stress unstress thing is how the poem get's a musical quality. A quality other than if it were prose. Almost like how music seems to have a meaning.
To be technical, "rhythm" is a more general term than "metre," which is what I am really referring to.
Rhythm definitely goes deeper - the repetition of sounds is an example of rhythm, and alliteration (repetition of consonant sounds) is very common way of achieving rhythm. Old English poetry used alliteration and not rhyming. Rhyming entered English at the time of Middle English, whose superstar is Chaucer. Middle English is what you get when you combine Old English and French, and the French poetic style, like other romance languages (and especially Italian, which was very influential at that time through folks like Dante), was to rhyme.
The trouble is that rhyming words are less common in English than in the Romance language, so a non-rhyming tradition has always remained.
Metre can work in a lot of different ways. The most common way is by the pattern of stressed and unstressed syllables in a line.
Take a look at the closing couplet of Shakespeare's sonnet 80 (chosen at random).
Then if he thrive and I be cast away, The worst was this, my love was my decay.
Let's figure out the metre of these lines. This process, figuring out the metre, is called "scansion".
To start, we want to know what is stressed, and what is not. Sometimes, guesswork is involved and it's not clear. Sometimes, placing a stress differently changes the meaning of the sentence. But in the vast majority of cases, scanning a poem will be intuitive.
' = unstressed - = stressed
' - ' - ' - ' - ' - Then if he thrive and I be cast away,
' - ' - ' - ' - ' - The worst was this, my love was my decay.
There's a pattern alternating unstressed and stressed syllables.
Metre can be written in a special language, sort of like sheet music. We combine the syllables into feet, like so:
| = division of feet
'- | '- | '- | '- | '-
So we have five pairs of '- (unstressed, stressed). Actually, '- has a name: "iamb". And a line with five feet is called a "pentameter". Obviously, "penta" means five, and meter is meter. So the name for:
'- | '- | '- | '- | '-
is "iambic pentameter".
Shakespeare wrote his sonnets in iambic pentameter.
If unstressed-stressed is called an "iamb", what's the opposite? A trochee is a stressed-unstressed ( -' ) combination. The other combinations, stressed-stressed, unstressed-unstressed, also have names. Look them up on Wikipedia and you'll see them all, including feet of three and four syllables.
Rhythm can be used to add weight or lightness to a poem. Take the opening line of Prufrock:
' ' - ' - ' - Let us go then you and I,
''- | '- | '-
This poem is sometimes called "free verse", and that has led some people to imagine it has no rules. But it definitely has regularity. Here's the first line of the next stanza:
' ' - ' - ' - ' - In the room the women come and go
Notice a pattern? The line is longer, but
''- | '- | '- | '-
it is only an extension of the same rhythm from the first line. Another stanza begins with:
' ' - ' - ' - And indeed there will be time
''- | '- | '-
See what I mean? Eliot, modern though he was, was not ignoring rhythm.
The anapest at the start (''-) gives it speed, sets it flowing fast. That's exactly what Eliot is trying to achieve - he's talking about how people pass their lives without stopping to notice things, so he makes even these lines skip forward. The opposite effect occurs from multiple stressed syllables - the line slows down, and often sounds heavy or emphatic.
I think of Milton describing how God defeated Satan in the war of the rebellious angels...
Him the Almighty Power Hurld headlong flaming from th' Ethereal Skie With hideous ruine and combustion down To bottomless perdition, there to dwell In Adamantine Chains and penal Fire, Who durst defie th' Omnipotent to Arms.
I admit, I'm not sure how to scan these lines... maybe...
? But I really want to stress "from" and even sometimes "Al" in "Almighty".
The point is you don't need to get too crazily technical... but it can be helpful to think about, for instance, a stressed-stressed combo is heavy "Hurld headlong", it's slow and emphatic. But an anapest skips with some speed.
And then Milton brings in other factors: look how long this sentence is - reading it aloud is a challenge because there is no punctuation, you can feel the sentence as if it is freefalling down from great height. And the alliterating "h" and "f", and the alliteration of "down" and "dwell", and then "durst defie" etc...
So in short... no rhythm is not just meter. It's a whole musical sense for the words. But meter is a powerful tool and every classic poet employs it, but as you rightly say some poets these days do without it.
fantasia wrong princess wanted, rescue tale of time, tis quest I choose to chase with sword and shield in hand. Waiting my time to shine, my prime ephemeral, a lesson learnt, and healed away that furrow, wisdom stillborn, strife...
a dream: to relish newly indexed chef an oeuvre: old car and not cut edge, rife technology. Why not both? 'Cause... my clef! is not yet set, for this part or misplay I instrument. Sounds like it... bad cadet! wish not that I could orchestrate a play, a practice partner, I'd had like to met.
the pot used to cook for our father's boys I'd like to find, stir, that would make my joy.
the beach I live, where the beach is an ideal not all have seen it, yet it's a shared dream some arrived on one, some born in a creel, some die next to it, it's part of our whim.
I've got an image of it: yellow sand strong in numbers, to the eye limitless, as the water it married, cold and grand, shingle and black sand are not my mistress.
some countries have no beaches, weird fate... I swim poorly, run poorly, paltry smith, don't know how to fish, how to navigate, all that as unknown as a foreign frith...
I don't want to go to the beach, so why to my kids, I wish them the beach... that's wry
getting home; after the high, free falling, feeling down, nearly over, time on this road is short soon getting home, back to choke, back to drown my tears I'll swallow and my snot I'll snort
back in my throat, replacing the poison got 'nuff of that, back to being sober the high has died out, come back to reason naught changed, stayed the same, stayed mediocre
did not find love and did not find friendship drunk, food junkie, lazy ass getting fat losing the gain weight, not enough hard ship, back to my hole, small and grey as a rat
I failed again, a v p d maybe, next page, next chapter, will drive me crazy
the quill's life stuck in the same cycle high down high down twelve steps dance, twirling around the blue post, fight the odds but remain one with no gown to swirl. Behind those silent bars, my ghost.
for as long as the vase hold the liquid, bit of my blood, lots of my sweat. Bubble or a cell in this body, my own squid like ink on the walls for my weird scribble,
my voice, the same one silent in the flesh, stuck in this cycle, running in circle now getting old, no longer staying fresh it's not a dance, it's sisyphus ripple,
once more I leave you there, end of my road, do not worry, i'll be back to unload
story the lowest, the more it hurts my frail back, peak reached, think the descent'd be easier, but the weight keeps on piling like a stack, if you trip, that's your downfall, wit stranger
you gathered no treasures on this transit, didn't kill any dragon, didn't become king, your shire you're still looking for sir hobbit, late so not a wizard, got no gold ring,
turn the page, close the first book, your own pleas, aiming at writing a nice trilogy, but you got no more ink, no ideas, perpetual writer block, page empty
you get by a name, that many ones share, you are on a trip, that many took, err
butterfly fleeting moments, as the butterfly wings you accepted it, bath in the effect you entered the garden behind the wings forever spring sweet scent, present's perfect
you left the cocoon for another nest, from green and young crawling caterpillar, to beautiful creature, your form the best feeding on light and the slimy nectar,
always some red birds trying to catch you, afar cold and grey winter approaching, your cousin's a moth, often feelings blue but for now you enjoy the flowering,
worst of its kind time to quit the childish like fantasy, close your eyes just to open them anew stop being whiny, crazy and lazy move your fat ass and shake out of the blue
realize that you are in the sewer life is above, you're still one of the ants you're repulsive, stink and are a shitter you are one of the garbage no one wants
suicide would hurt those cursed to like thy you'll have to go through a a normal life you owe that to the unfortunate, wry, who'd kill you to take your place with a knife
do not cry,nor laugh, do not rant either hide, stay silent, stop being a bother
I finally wrote a poem I like, but I need to cut pieces to make it in pentameter, so here is the draft, I'll post the final result as well. dark place, I'm walking in this tunnel, it's been long, I can't remember when there was light, I've been walking alone, it feels wrong I vaguely remember a torch, before I got short-sight
it's cloudy, I see only one far away star, but I'm a black sheep, how can it be the shepherd, rainy days, even when it's sunny, feel trap in a jar, no bird to feed my thirst, me the leopard
do you see the odd, or am I bound to my misery, need a hobby, need a passion, to revive the flame I'm connecting to my poetry, that's my bravery but I'm too lazy, this is quite lame
are my eyes closed, did I turn my back? how come, can't see the light, how come it is all black?
dark place, I'm walking in this tunnel, it's been long, I can not remember when there was light, I have been walking alone, it feels wrong I remember a torch, 'fore the short-sight
it's cloudy, I see only one small star, I'm a black sheep, can it be the shepherd? sur or not it's rainy, trap in a bar, no bird to feed my thirst, me the leopard
see the odd?, am I bound to misery? I need a hobby, to revive the flame although poetry is my bravery I'm too hazy and lazy, this is lame
are my eyes closed or did I turn my back? can't see the light, how come it is all black?
love island aloof, mental isolation, stranded on an ether island, still by a crowd you are surrounded,to you it sounded like your odd soul was taking off your bod
could feel my heart pumping, harder, faster, could feel the thick blood rushing through my veins, get sweaty, hard to focus, got weirder my sick brain "it is danger", he explains
then ride's over, back to the real world, arteries relaxed, my frail heart slows down, can breath, no longer I wanted to curled less shaky, 'fter what that at me was thrown
past the prime I never had, briefly too, now to the good times, for now it's still blue
finding a meaning oxford, lust, noun, strong sexual desire desire as nothing else I'm wishing for, sexual as naughty, primal as fire, lots of shame for my thoughts, nothing hardcore
love, intense feeling of deep affection, and sexual attraction for someone, I know it's just my imagination, always thinking that, this time, she's the one,
infatuation, intense but short-lived passion for someone or/and for something, for our "story", that makes me sleep deprived, for her, she is all of what I'm thinking,
she looks like one, named as one, my angel, must ask for your rejection, Gabrielle
in the blood as ugly as I'm, to her I'm the star, how long until she fully forgets me? she doesn't know me,she doesn't know of my bar life, if only she knew my whole story
always there at my lowest, never there at my best, she doesn't get to see my smile she doesn't get to hear me laugh either, where she is I'm always, in her mind and bile
she could never hate me even when I did her wrong, she never stopped loving me, even when I hated her, I'm like my father, maybe then her heart is empty
as me, she is sick, but it's worsening, as me, of a life she was 'ways dreaming
guinnesses a couple of that dark bitter guinness, and my shitty life seems to be okay no more though, three and it is all a mess I'm afraid that my hair will not turn grey
as a sea, the hardest is diving in, but slowly you acclimate to the zest, child like, hate coming back to the margin and soon you feel like you are but the best,
as the bard as soon as you close the door, you are back to fighting your own demons, and soon enough you're swearing "nevermore" a lie from your sick imagination,
machinations, that is your daily grind, poison, remedy, two stouts for your mind
saturday caffeine life is passing through dwindling down the drain my mind's main reaction: isolation craving from the cold clogged up cave, my brain machination from imagination
self sabotage, welcome the misery treachery heart and brain, fight' each other slippery rope to sure insanity, arrogantly acting like none matter
every attempt yet another failure, every thing leading to one,I am sick sooner or later, just beat the measure, this is what's written, it's my own music
beautiful and tortured, like every soul, no originality, anoth' fool
working day For some there is a fear of missing out, but to others, alas timas has flewn by, the happy times of take, night, and black out, lots say it's gonna be alright, that's a lie,
for the damn clock is never done ticking, but to men and women time is counted, and for they are some winning, some losing, it has been like this since life existed,
the eternal quest then start to reverse, cus unknown is too scary, man seek comfort, chase has changed from happiness to sadness, and then your solitude become your fort,
you'd rather live in your own fantasy, the far of being finally happy.
reverse the tape it always starts the same, first the thinking, I feel like I'm going kind of insane caught my eyes, or ears, or heart or something many visages, but she's still the same
every time that we meet it gets weirder I become stupid, she took all my wit don't understand why I should smother her they say I have to fight... I want to embrace it
it's torture, all that tensions in my mind I always felt compassion for my foe, you can't fight love, they say, it makes you blind it feels like she's there everywhere I go
it oft' feels like this is my true passion I can't and won't stop my dear depression
craving a nice freshly brewed cup of black coffee, a warm embrace, a light touch on your cheek, a nice cake, pie, or sugary pastry, a kiss from the lips of that pretty chick,
a snatching you from reality book, a brand new pair of shoes good for running, a new class shirt that is good for your look, a new beat that make you feel like dancing,
the soft fluff of a newly born bunny, the smell of grass or the sea salt air, the companionship of a cute puppy, to walk on the hot sand or grass foot bare,
craving are not all nasty, but okay, like a winter slumber waiting for May
back home, night's back after the sun is done shining, back to calm, the tide is back to low rise, time to clean after all the partying, it's time to make changes and become wise,
a hungerover for a fleeting moment, then back to being sober for some years, soon the memories will only be a fragment, maybe there will, at first, be some hot tears,
say goodbye to new and hello to old, but it was ncie spending some times abroad, at least now you have some stories to told, let's what's next on my god damn road,
time to go back to your family, at least they will all feel joy and glee
summer night a breeze of air in the summer night, each step like a waltz, head lightly spinning, both of you walking, wondering if they might, they keep on talking, grinning, laughing,
the road seems endless or ephemeral, too bad the takeaways are all closed now, horny and hungry like some animal, asphalt feels as comfy as a meadow,
get back up, take another turn and back home, you are rattling the key just a little, you're used to that dance, as writing a poem, again and again you mix your spittle,
a sweet summer night made even shorter, odd and magical time, time of wonder
ghouls, the ghouls of past time to whom you gave birth, drag you into the ravine of madness, consume you, but were fed on purpose. Earth, is full of ghouls' mothers. On your mattress,
you feed them, and give birth to even more, they become your friends, thanks to your nursing, they end up taking all of your vigor, you keep spiralling, , they keep on growing,
to silence them you need a shiny spark, to light the fire that kept them away, conquer your own hell and redeem your ark, or they'll own your mind till your hair turn grey,
sometimes it's not clear who feed whose hunger, just as the rolve reverse with some lover
social isolation, had my mind work on corruption, money replaced by seduction of the devil vocalization, suicidal idealization, worked up from all the machination, descent into my creation, the triggers to institutionalisation, turned into an abomination, feel the acceleration of life deterioration, stopped the motion, ain't any lotion, to heal the scarification, the illusion, the delusion, the hardest misconception, is that i can't escape this passion, for self deprecation, and self induced depression
never felt as happy as living deep in misery, hiding behind misanthropy, to explain how I'm not friendly, don't know if I got sympathy, don't know if I'm not crazy, it may sounds a bit eerie, this amount of negativity, I know I'm creepy, I know I'm very whiny, also that I'm really silly, but negativity? I think that's a fallacy, I judge myself objectively, doesn't even worry me, this lack of self empathy, sometimes I even think it's funny cuz I don't want to escape this reality, this is my new personality, being all crappy and shitty, now go away nothing to see, I choose my own remedy, I choose the way that's easy, pathetically living in my fantasy, all I got is my crappy poetry, all I want is to live in a tragedy
failed poet praise makes you happy, but they hide the flaws, then your writing becomes hasty, lazy cuz of the applause, you forget your laws take shortcuts, plunge to mediocrity,
any artist should always be careful, one day you ultimately reach your peak, how to avoid writing something dreadful? how to avoid the dive to pathetic?
working on your art is terribly hard, how to admit that your child isn't perfect? being bad, doesn't stop you from being bard, be warn and be ready for the reject
from editor or public. Me? The steam I release, as stupid as it may seem
break up dream shattered, fall into oblivion, wake up alone, like she was nev' there. Neat sky, looks like you failed a rescue mission, you'll realize she always clapped off beat,
they say it's as hard as going through grief, but the deceased is none but your own self, or that couple, truth is love is a thief, it'll make you stronger, as a burn a chef,
they say you are, at birth and death, alone, both of those times should be surrounded though, by love, and friendship, and care, not gruesome, sad, even when the two are close, you know
the sole right relationship is the last, all the rest should remain in the damn past.
masochist some people have too much of that free dom, to escape their lacking reality they create a prison of their own. Bomb ticking, they become boss and employee
they always chase the emotional pain, destroying all hope of getting better, to prove a very silly point. They gain some rush by becoming worst as ever,
I don't know what this shit is called? Cruel, self destructive, masochist, ill, insane? should we pity them? fantasy fueled Or, ignore them? Hippocrate sermon slain...
How do you get help, when all that you think "you deserve it"? What to say to your shrink?
dream I when the world doesn't make much sense to your grace, but you still follow through the rabbit hole, when the people around you have no face, and yet you know their full surnames and all,
when you clearly see shadows, colours, shapes, but yet your lie your eyes closed in darkness, your limbs are moving, through times and landscapes, but yet for some hours you are motionless,
without any effort you are sweating, without knowing you're releasing fluids, when without knowing you may be speaking, some are walking, snoring, or in lucid
when all these little things become a theme, you know it's time to wake up from the dream
dream II when it's not logical or possible, yet it makes sense for some unknown reason, it means that your dreaming has to fiddle, dream or nightmare? your mind may play treason,
when dying seems like the only escape, but you'd woken up in another fight, our mind can't fathom that there's no escape, what if each nights is another life ? Might
you say "it doesn't mean people aren't real!" no way of knowing, maybe they aren't though, what if deja vu are bumps to the wheel? what if it's like in that one old weird show?
soz, you were saying? what am I doing? So sorry, I must have been day dreaming.
Again Sitting on the edge, a breeze makes you fall, Asleep, 'spite your efforts you're motionless, Drowning, your tears invisible to all, The call from far away echoes, useless...
Sitting on the edge, oft' you fly away, Daydream, put in motion a fantasy Breath in hope, lungs air-filled to runaway, Call back to earth, no hope, and yet maybe...
Brain is sick, wrong self diagnosis though, Brain goes fast, wrong usage, some potential Or just way too much idiocy, woe Anxiety for your sole credential
Crazy, excuse or handicapped, time flies Lazy, suicide, homelessness, one cries
Lesbatron is on the street, sweepin bitches off their feet. Haters hatin cuz they weak, listening to lesbatron, + Show Spoiler [speak..] +
spit.. while the hoes do splits, scizzor like they getting fits, kiss.. and caress they clits, all the while they flappin tits, screamin like they're panickin, lesbatron is stacking ching, ching.. you think you a king? nah you best start vacatin. Lesbatron tha ace in hurr. This ain't fake it's real for sure, keeping all a y'all astir, making all the bitches purr.
ying yang balance, without, no darkness, she guides the boat throughout the endless nights, ying yang, no darkness, ensue blindness, she guides the souls after the longest fights,
the clouds act as a mask to her beauty, always expected after the stern tears, those can be of joy, nature's tapestry, one sees her then hears her, her strike one fears
we learnt to tame her, which brought us some heat, great finding, might precipitate our end, it's a cycle... a bubble? no a zit! we'll leave our mark on earth, a scar in sand,
ying yang balance, birth is giving light ying yang death is just another night
In many ways I'm a toad or a frog, I feed on flies, and those...they feed on shit... As the majestics, I live in a bog, Stinky and muddy swamp I inhabit.
I croaked with my coarse voice, same chant always... I jump and jump, but never leave my pond I'll get a princess, using the old ways Of course I'm no prince but of tales I'm fond
Am I poisonous? My friendships die... But let us be fair, it's not nature's fault. My body will serve and students will cry, They will wonder, where did get so much salt?
Now, now, let me get back to my damped pit, Alone, I can pretend I'm full of wit
As the frog, my true tinge remains all green. As the frog, my skin is not at all pure. As the frog, my resting face appears mean. As the frog, my footsteps are odd for sure.
From my bog, I'm swimming to no avail. From my bog, I try singing without grace. From my bog, I try resting but I flail. From my bog, I try jumping without pace.
Through the fog, they all would like to reach me. Through the fog, they would like for me to dance. Through the fog, they would like me all happy. Through the fog, they would like me with a stance.
I stand on a log, dance with my fever. I stand on a log, log on a river.
the dead or the living, them or us, who's waiting, stuck in eternity, perpetual duality, we keep writing the song, until god strucks the gong, yesterday we thrived my train just arrived
repugnant creature, on this earth, crawling pungent cloud, around her, floating unbearable attitude, isolated from others pathetic destiny, not that it matters correct upbringing, failed adaptation to this world, another malformation
My dearest little Lou I love you My dear small palpitating star I love you Deliciously elastic body I love you Vulva that tightens like a nut-breaker I love you Left tit so pink and so insolent I love you Right tit so tenderly pinky I love you Right nipple of champagne coloured non champagnized I love you Left nipple similar to a small newborn veal's forehead horn I love you Labia minora abnormally enlarged by frequent touching I love you Exquisitely agiles butts that push well back I love you Similar to an hollow and dark moon bellybutton I love you Mane as light as a forest in winter I love you Fluff covered as a birthed swan armpits I love you Adorably pure fall of your shoulders I love you Thighs of the shape as aesthetic as an antic temple column I love you Hemmed ears like little Mexican jewellery I love you Hair bathed in the blood of loves I love you Smart feet feet that stiffened I love you Waist which has never known the loose sized corset I love you Amazingly done back that arched for me I love you Mouth o my delights o my nectar I love you Unique gaze star-gazed eyes I love you Hands which movements I adore I love you Singularly aristrocratic nose I love you Undulating and dancing gait I love you O lil Lou I love you love you love you
they say I could be great, but I ain't tall got potential, got what now u dumb shit ain't reaching my peak, all I do is fall I'm trying to rap with no beat
trying to write with no ink learning without book and you can see my weak link between tow verses with no hook
I got one though, depression how nice is that for a loser always in a state of desperation all I do is act like a f-king poser
layers (without counting the syllables too much) usual joke, more layers than an onion my clicks create a ring, nothing disturbing bind them in darkness, magnet minions keep tabs on all those tapes, decent lurking
brain fried u p, serve my orders, that's too fast for you, but it ain't cheap, don't you soil not your kind of joint, but don't blast, fire up, ready to grill, boiled oil
call me chief, I don't bake but got you high, use your fingers, for this to work getting dirty, staart eating, don't lie, want some sauce, you are reading it, pig to pork
paris was too lazy, kim shared her back, sly? I'm spitting like the God, this offspring a fly
(verses getting freer for now) On his birthday, the wished for happiness, Of the family, of the doctor and nurses, of the boy Of his borthers and sisters, of his teachers and employers, for greatness But for all they wished, someone was losing joy
On his wedding day, he wished for fhe impossible Eternal love, faithfulness, no disease, no grieving A good happy life, nothing horrible, But for all he was wihing, anxiety was growing
On his deathbed he wished for satiety, Of his mind, of his stomach, of his groin, Of his taste, touche, hearing, sight, of his body But for all he wished, he got nothing, rotten loin
All these bars set so high, recipe for depression All this thing to avoid, all of this leads to deception
(verses more free yet again) Everybody is stupid around my person My father he is sick, silently dying My mother, she is losing her reason My sister, our relationship is fading
At work I was struggling, too slow I was praised though, hard worker I went back to uni, it's the same limbo They all say I have potential though, dumb liar
They I have to think of me first, let's talk about me I'm battling depression, but we are in an embrace Like lover, cheating on my family, I got anxiety, no one understand, I've to hide my true face
Issue is I'm like everyone Issue is, they told me I could become the One
Back to "normality" I killed the only damn thing that loved me Procrastination, depression, or not? I'm living the dream but brain doesn't agree Nothing's logical, no way I'm a bot
See what I did, a lazy mechanism Fake poetry, fake layers of nothing Read that to the greeks, they'd say "barbarism" Another pun, but there is no meaning
To this nice poem so far, weird isn't it It's dark in there, I'm in my own batcave, In the dark? should I be more explicit? I guess not, hurts your brain like a bad rave
and ... it's gone, mean there there the shit is done and before you know... bim bam boom I'm gone
No Life I can't keep on pretending, I've no life I don't read, watch, listen to the news, lost I don't act, bland and white, I have no life I don't watch shows, movies, videos, lost
I don't write blogs, journal, invisible I don't play more than one game, empty brain I don't talk, eat alone, invisible I don't listen to podcasts, empty brain
I don't play an instrument, no talent I don't play sports, chess, go, board games, no joy I don't learn, retain, improve, no talent I don't hug, kiss, caress, hold hand, no joy
I can not keep going on not living My shit poems I can keep on writing
(no meter again) On walking and home; I walk the same earth, of people left out or appearing in book, Trying to follow the path of some of the greatest, Avoiding the road others took, I've walk more distance than some, but I won't go the furthest,
I've come across many person, Will encounter others on my road, On the sidewalks of someone's mansion, On the some dirt road, here and abroad
I don't really leave home, never leave my city, Yet I feel like I'm lost, I hope I'll die with a roof for me and my family Maybe the hospital will be my final host,
In circle, to square one, in my ivory tower, I walk relentlessly, from my bench however...
(free again) Just a question, what if I'm no sick? Then I have no excuse for my bad attitude, Then I have been playing fair but nothing got to stick, Just an observation, cause I'm tired of another platitude
Just a question, what if they are right? Then I need to move my ass, and soonner rather than later, Then I need not to worry too much about the future, or I might... Just an interrogation, that keeps me awake similar as a thinker
Just a question, am I a pussy or do I have anxiety? Based on that, I could know myself and advance in life, Based on that, I could know if I need help or to be ballsy, Just my imagination, I guess, running wild causing some strife
Just my daily rumination, and a bit of a writing, Then my day got to its culmination, and I can keep going
I'm poisonous, all around me gets sick I'm toxic, all around me suffocate I'm pollution itself, I am a prick An asshole, a jerk, I'm not intricate
I'm corrupted, sinner giv' in to all sins, I'm laziness itself, can't work or shit, I'm not a nice angel by any means, I'm pretty stupid, couldn't earn a treat,
My mind's treacherous, to me and others, My tongue, split as the vile snake, it tells lies, My hands, cause destruction can't make wonders, My brain, always scheming, always it cries,
Something must be wrong in my blood or brain Nothing to make me happy, that's certain.
I have never held a job, I'll be 26 soon, no one wants to hire me, I have one useless degree, people with my degree struggle to get basic jobs... I fucked up.
Lay down and rot is all that's left to me I don't have what it takes, I'm a loser I still live in that weird wrong fantasy Of finding a job to be happier
Through my lazy life I've been fed too well Got used to luxury that's obvious Now all that I manage to do is dwell The truth: nothing is the least atrocious,
I give up, have I even try to fight ? I am a failure, the steps are too steep Too high, I can't do anything right every field... too vast, too hard, go too deep
now I am going to be penny less, My nice childhood? Turns out to be useless.
I'm locked in a room, with the key in hands, I could open it but I'm paralysed By what I don't even know. From the stands I'm judging myself, while I'm mesmerised By my own lazy-ass rumination, All hating my guts, all I do is fail, If they could they would cause my extinction, Or is it me who hates them, what's the tale?
I am down living in society, I'm down talking to each and everyone, Everything that's happening is on me, I could solve all my issues, one by one
But for now all that I need is to rest, All that I write, it's just in mocking jest
Free verse. the galaxy forever expanding, my person forever growing, aging, life's cycle, earth never stops its spinning, brain storming, mind running in circle
back to square one, end up a in box, or an urn, always a question of choice
this doesn't translate, like my feelings, like my potential like my skill
THe WoRD i HeaRD'S THe LoRD oF LiGHT'S a RiGHTeouS DuDe SoRR'HLLoR, BuT a DaRK aRCHoN'S WHo youRS TRuLY ouTSouRCeD CoNTRoL oVeR H MiND To wiTHiN THe eye oF a SHaDoW-SaND SToRM THey HoVeR in THe NuDe GoT Me iN THe MooD FoR eXeCuToR'S BiDDiNG BeiNG NaMeD 24/7 LiKe DaRuDe
EPT
