My Poems Part 9 - Dead Ones, Fragments, Finding the Right Words and More
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Dead Ones
Life is but a passing shadow.
A new age, a new world, a new dream.
Time and time again,
I seek solace in my solitude.
But alas, the world finds me.
Perhaps, I should become
A renunciate, a nun,
A priest or a beggar.
Yet, even in that form
Life finds me.
I detest life,
Because I am dead.
To be dead
While living
Is a torment
I desire upon everyone.
Only when all become
Like the dead ones.
Can my life be done.
Fragment
I cannot stand
Living like this anymore!!
Day in and day out.
All the same
Nothing more!
Finding the Right Words
I cannot find
The right words
To describe this…
“feeling”, this…
Disgusting taste
In my mouth;
“sour”, yeah!
That might work…
Still… it seems
A bit weak,
It fails to capture
The essence of my loathing.
Oh! Wait! “ Loathing”.
Not a sensory word,
But it will have to do,
(for now, anyway)
Yeah… I loath
My generation,
My time, my space ,
Even the air
I breath is poisonous,
No, Venomous, ( yeah,
Venom, sounds so much better)
To me.
I cannot stand
Living like this anymore!!
I don’t have the right words
To describe this feeling, this longing.
Blue
When I am
Feeling down,
So blue, so green.
I seek solace
In those pale,
Sweet, innocent eyes.
So naïve,
So full of life.
Your will,
Has yet to be crushed,
Opaque, discarded.
I cannot stand
Such a sight.
It help me remember
My lost ember.
My back is bent,
My heart broken.
I cannot stand
Living like this anymore!
I am tired,
Oh, so tired.
No let me
Look on…
Once more,
Let me forget
That I am me,
For one final moment.
Fragile Success
Fragile, success is so fragile.
Easily broken, taken!!
The old ember,
That once shone
Is all, but extinguished.
My futile efforts
Have once again,
Gone unrewarded.
What is left of your pride now?
Fragments
1
And just like that
My pain is gone.
2
Why help others
When we ourselves
Are beyond saving?
We still wonder alone
In this valley of shadows.
3
I am tired
Of all these empty faces.
The mask I wear
Hides my cold bones.
I died
Before I had a chance
Of being born.
4
Oh! God! I refuse
To add another grain
To the hourglass
Counting our end.
5
The wheel refuses to turn;
It goes on…
Tick, tock, Tick, Tock,
It lays a path
Toward my end.
Emotional Baggage
Oh! I am tired
Of these dead
Desires.
The emotional
Baggage of others
I refuse to carry.
Build a wall,
I must scale
The highest peaks.
Just do not speak
To me, about your problems.
To remain alone
Is my only desire.
I am already resigned
Myself to this fate.
Don’t try to save me,
I did not ask for help.
Keep your charity
For someone that truly needs it.
I been along
All my life.
Yet Despair,
Does not know my name.
Don’t save me,
Don’t help me,
I carry no baggage,
So please leave me alone.
Your helping hand
Will crush me,
I do not want
Your emotional,
Sentimentality.
I do not wish,
To hear your
Emotional garbage.
21 Years Old
My eyes only see shadows,
I have no one
To write to,
These words fell on death ears.
Since I entered
This living grave,
I feel myself age.
I see myself age,
My once brown hair,
Has become ashen
And I am only 21!
Am I sad?
When I look within
All I find is pain,
And sorrow,
Such woeful words
Come easily to me.
“Are you sad?”
You may ask,
I do not feel
Unhappy!
No… you could say
I do not feel anything….
No, not a hint of remorse (or sorrow).
Mania
This mania keeps me alive,
If I did not have
This strange urge,
This repetitive,
Repetitive desire.
Lo’ by now,
I would be
Consumed by fire.
The same jokes
Do not tire me,
The same song
Does not bore me.
Nay, it only gets better!
Hey, heheheheh,
Ha, Ha, hi, ho, hu!
Let the madness take shape!
Hahahaha, he,heh, huh!
Madness
You realize
That it is
Those two idiots.
Who have driven you nuts,
They get so shocked,
So easily,
They think so much alike.
They crippled you,
Bound you,
You cannot escape!
Their blood flows within you.
To be the only sane person
In a nuthouse,
Is a pain
I do not wish on anyone.
Let’s pretend,
Let’s play their game
A bit longer.
By the Window
I bet you were hoping to find
Something different,
By the window,
By the window,
By the window
Still shines,
The same rays
Of the sun.
You still hear
The same old, song
By the window,
By the window.
By the window
You were hoping to find
Something else, something different;
By your 3rd story window.
There is no one,
There is no one,
By this window,
By this window.
Yet you wonder why,
You still gazed out
By your window
Hoping to find…
Someone else, something different.
Yet, for now
There is no one
By your window,
By your window.
Fragment
I wish to know you,
My new self,
Your face seems clouded…
Why so much disdain?
Your refuse to turn,
Why do you ignore me?
Desire
Happy is the man
Without desire,
Such foolish notions
Knows no fire.
Even in the end
His will still bends
Towards his desires.
Torture
To live, you must destroy your “self”.
Forget it, discard it.
It brings forth so much pain.
Societal expectation
Demands your veneration,
Of their chains.
You must refuse to submit,
To this blind torture.
Even now, it binds you,
Even now, it lies to you.
You must refuse your “self”.
To escape this deafening pain!
Damn it!
That struck a cord…
I do not know why
Seeing her like this
Awoke such pain
And sorrow…
My iron will lies broken.
I was such a painful blow.
Looking at her,
Just thinking of her,
It kills me, hurts me.
My happy Muse,
Disdained, Lost, Discarded.
Is this… Damn it!
Edge
I have no true confidant;
Most often I must
Take the bitter pill
All by myself.
It kills me, downs me.
I dare not take another breath.
Why am I on this path?
My feet refuse to take another step…
Yes, they know what lies ahead.
Fool
When did life
Become a waking nightmare?
The same old phantoms
Keep singing my old requiem.
Another step and soon,
I will hear the bells
Tolling my doom.
I am tired of my life,
My all, my sins.
I cannot find solace
Even in my sleep.
Oh! What a fool I been!
Words
Hello, Big Mr. Word.
Do you feel cool
Or indescribable?
No, no Mr. Word,
You’re the fool…
(not I)
Do you think it cool
Being so indefinable,
So elusive in meaning?
How yucky!
Nay, give me plain
Spoken words, any day!
Oh! Big, Mr. Word.
Ambitions
Planning for a tomorrow
That will never come,
The man bends his head
Low, taking all the blows.
“Yes sir”,” no sir”,
He always whimpers,
Longing for a bone.
Now with gray hairs,
He finally grasps her cold remains.
Too little, too late
Did you realized
Your own mistake.
Disappear
They do not seem to disappear,
Their faces still haunt me.
My waking hours
Provide no pleasure.
My dreamless hours
Are a horror to me.
Why won’t they disappear?
Their grimaces still haunt me,
Even in the mirror
I see them clearer.
They smile at me,
Mocking, laughing at me.
All is opaque, all is fear!
Why won’t they disappear?
Among Them
Starving for a tomorrow
That I failed to find,
I reach out, hoping to bind
This wretched sorrow.
It kills me,
As it heals me,
Let me forget
That I am among them.
Oh! Sweet hunger,
Numb the senses once more,
Kill all my forlorn.
Let me forget
That I am among them.
It would be so Easy
It would be so easy
To forget that I am insane,
Reality is so lame.
All Roads lead
To the same pit.
I hear it
Beckoning, Calling.
I cannot escape it,
It binds me, harms me.
It would be so easy
To accept by down going,
But alas, they drag me
Once again, to my feet.
It would be so easy
To go with the moon,
But alas, they even
Denied me my own doom.
It would be so easy
To escape, forget,
So, why can’t I even do this?
Dance
Dance, dance,
Ye, elegant ladies.
So quaint, so hollow.
They turn, turn, turn,
With their white hollowed masks.
Look at them, they paint their faces.
With a mockery of life’s colors.
They refuse to admit,
That they are dead, dead, dead.
Watch these hollow maidens
Turn, turn, turn.
The music has yet to burn.
Let them sing once more.
Dance, look at their pose.
They have no eyes,
They are cold!!
Untitled
1
50 miles and counting,
It’s a slippery slope,
And down we go.
Into the deep;
He swallows us whole.
2
The cold Shower of yesterday
Has sobered me from my dreams.
3
I am the first, the last, the middle,
I am the hero of all your zeros.
4
Drink the poisoned chalice,
Within it lies true salvation.
Forget all conversation
Raise that poisoned malice,
Only then you will bear
Those thousand cold stares.
Repeating Myself
I grow tired
Of repeating myself.
The same old songs,
The same old hymns.
If I struggle to rise up,
I gaze behind and witness
My Pity’s woes.
I cannot lie
Confi’ in my bed forever.
I must break free
And use my hands.
That day I will
Discard delusional light,
In order to fill
My empty belly with iron.
I grown tired of repeating myself,
The same cold songs, and hymns.
What do you see?
Look past the mirror,
What do you see?
Behind those cold eyes,
Behind your philosophy?
Such arrogance disgust me!
I cannot bear to look at you,
My eyes shine within you.
Look past the mirror…
What do you see?
The same desire,
The same ire.
Forget it, Discard it!
It’s not a part of me!
Your face disgust me!
Your face is all repugnance,
Look past your vengeance,
What do you see?
Sewing
Hands are busy,
Busy, busy,
Busywork.
I don’t hear him,
He is not calling,
Busy, busy,
Busywork.
Hear the wheel,
It keeps spinning,
Busy, busy,
There it goes.
Hands are busy,
He is not calling,
Must stay busy,
Busy, Busy,
Or else do His work.
Old Wound Version 3
Sometimes old wounds
Bleed forth with time,
So many woes,
So many lies.
If I could see him,
One last time,
Maybe then, I could ask him why…
See him walk forth, breathe and die,
Even now I see him, wither…
Such a memory
Makes me shiver,
I guess time
Never healed that wound.
Old Wounds Version 4
Lately old wounds
Bleed forth with time,
So many woes,
So many lies.
If I could sing
I would soon die.
My last song
Is my forlorn.
Death whispers softly,
“It’s time”.
Her sweet embrace
Stills my chase.
It would be easy
To lay down and die,
Only then true rest,
Would not be jest.
Cold is the Wrath of a Psycho
Cold is the wrath
Of a psycho,
Look at his gaze,
Such a menacing stare,
Such a threatening glare.
Cold is the wrath of a Psycho…
Wielding the blade
Of a hate he never felt,
See him come,
There he comes…
Cold is the wrath of the Psycho…
In his gaze,
There is haze,
It’s a maze.
Look at him,
His head turns.
Flee, he escapes
In his cape.
Cold is the laugh of a psycho…
Blue Guitar or the Ballad of Johnny Six Fingers
Johnny six fingers
Has a blue guitar.
Look at him writing
For a two string,
My, how he loves to sing.
The best guitarist
In a five mile radius,
Jonny six fingers.
He spent his hours,
Saving, counting.
Hoping to light his ember
With a true fender.
Johnny six fingers
Sold his blue guitar.
Look at him wailing,
Hoping and shouting
For his old guitar.
The night is cold,
His eyes grow old.
Johnny six fingers
Now has four fingers.
His old guitar
Is humming, howling.
In his darkest hours,
Johnny four fingers
Turns on the radio
To hear his old blue,
Say once more, hello.
The old blue
Now has six strings,
Listen to her sing!
Johnny now sings
To the memory,
To the melody
Of his old two string guitar!