Archive for the ‘Analytical Poetry’ Category

Absurdum Excedunt

Void, when the spiral closes
Just a vast of endless darkness
Like being buried in charcoal
But gravitationally weightless.

When all science fails
And the conclusion’s flawed
All of the mathematical method
Spurs like blots across the drivel.

Incongruent and inconsistent
Where’s the strict impeccable exposition?
For those who are dull minded
Like moths drifting towards the bright.

Eternity and energy in a fragile vessel
How can you sustain such accumulation?
Myths and mysteries drawn in numbers
Where the true enlightenment slumbers.

Singular Purpose

Dimwits own the world
Damn the day they were given a voice
Dumbfucks rule it all
Damn the day they were given a choice.

“So much potential wasted
Contained in my low self-worth”
She says to me with tears on her eyes

I’m self-destructive
My arrogance is brutally honest
Fuck the god in all of us!
As useless as the one above this world.

My agnostic thoughts contrast my belief
How can I be another stupid atheist?
This knowledge cannot fill the gap in my soul
I’m feeling the fragility of being a human.

Share my story in order to gain wealth
Make me useful, sell my soul to y’all
I don’t care, take it, just take it all
Free me from this excessive freedom/boredom!

I cannot find my singular purpose
To rape all of you with my every lie
Come, come out and give me the choice
Maybe I need to feed the shadow inside.

To make peace with the demons that lurk
And accept the things I cannot change
I’d be bending spoons, but all I have is a fork
Which I use to stab the nerves in my brain.

Inarticulate Jumble

You never read my words
Unless they’re arrows aiming at your pride
I find it to be pretty absurd
Having to rip your chest like that, out wide.

You feel like saliva in my drink
Sometimes I wish I wouldn’t even touch that cup
Words dig deeper as they sink
You read on my riddles, trying to figure what’s up?

Insults are disguised as praises
Not wise enough to slip it in any other way
Obstacles always come in phases
But this one has stayed since before yesterday.

You never read my words
Unless they’re axes chopping off your head
I find it all straying inwards
When I hurt myself, I make another feel dead.

You feel like smudge on my mirror
Sometimes I hate this face I am wearing in here
Words cannot describe the horror
Can you figure out between lines all of this fear?

I’m the viable vial to poison you
Not deep enough to make through and through
Temptations call upon our names
But I know this one is the one that put us to shame.

I’ll tear your skin and put it over me
As I tore out my heart to make you understand
‘Cause words they cross to make it all unintelligible
Where no reason for reasoning can truly land.

‘Cause my words are inarticulate jumble
That you have no time at all to figure out
I wish that in my pride I was more humble
Yet in your ignorance you won’t know what it’s all about.

Ectype in Sepia

This is something new
So I like the way it looks
I still haven’t gotten used to
The bright vibrant colors.

This is so soft
I like the way it feels
I still haven’t got used to
The touch of the surface.

I think I have grown old
Thinking about how marvelous
Are the shades in this picture
Captivating and keeping me in awe.

(It’s) hard to write about you
With that smile and that glow
It’s best to keep it in stored
In the storage of my memory.

(It’s) hard to look at you
Without pondering possibilities
The hourglass’s broken
Pouring all the specks about.

I think I have grown weary
Thinking about the wind breeze
Waiting by the cold shore
Tallying the phony sirens at bay.

A rag boy stumbling still
From your perspective is skewed
Less oil for this engine to reel
Every feeling once wasted, spewed.

Perpetual Predicament

Don’t lose faith in humanity yet
Someone will rise for the occasion
Once we’re done with that bottom dollar bet
And we’re up to our necks in duly deformation.

Not truly separated from the center
But severed and extracted from it
With fuel to add to our ill temper
No wonder we cannot find any peace.

This mechanical inception of you and I
It becomes part of the perversion that comes alive
One pull of the lever and the level starts to rise
Either you drown in it with dignity
Or sell your soul in order to survive.

Flick of the switch for things to turn around
Inane in here, a prisoner of my own war
But as we all fall down the bottom ground
We realize we were part of the problem from the start.

Not truly set on the pier base
But buried deep within the walls
Which might or might not be case
Of why no one ever heard my calls.

This ostracized intricate perception of us
Lays a pragmatic paramental parallel over our beliefs
‘Cause is there any out there left to trust
Shouldn’t be the ones who serve
On our pain and feed on our grief.

So come and put on your Sunday’s best
You might need to look pretty for the picture
We’re cluttered here with all of the rest
They bring down the foundation to break apart the structure.

Enters the incipient perpetual predicament
The never-found solution for this ongoing mystery
Adding up to the sentiment of ambivalence
And so we go on living under such incensing misery.

Metempsychosis

Reincarnation in the same bloody muscles
The lack of a wall in the fortress of the skin
As the spirit from the past life chuckles
I recognize the impending doom is soon to begin.

Get me to higher realms
In this spiritual journey of ours
Sick of chemical spells
Drifting at the pending hours.

Walk me to the creator
The one who made it all
The builder of this incinerator
The one who ignores my call.

Fear of the dismal future
The thing I made of my own
The roaming of this creature
That doesn’t have a home.

So rest in my anger
My agonizing intentions
Drunk in apathy
Before these revelations.

Apathetic Antipathy

She’s drowned her soul in popular opinions
She cannot read a map even if it’s on her favor
Lights a cigarette to fog in smoke the recollections
She doesn’t like the smell but she loves the flavor.

Her body’s precious but she gives it away to the public
She likes the attention; she likes all of the praises
Her broken wings make her image look less than angelic
She would sell her soul to find a heart that is virtuous.

Surrounding herself with vultures hungry for dead meat
She can dance with the flow but she doesn’t get the beat
Time for sleep, time to rest, high as a kite, there she goes
She can leave behind this universe but never her ghosts.

She’s kept herself to a shelter made of wood
She cannot see what’s ahead even if it’s up front
Snorts up the white dust cause it makes her feel good
She doesn’t like the mirror ‘cause it makes her feel runt.

Her life‘s precious but she gives it away for the applause
She likes the recognition; she likes all of the worship
Her distorted introspection makes her look like a lost cause
She’d trade off her salvation for someone to give a shit.

Surrounding herself with leeches thirsty for young blood
She spins around all day just to face fall on the mud
Time to party, time to live, low as her esteem, so it seems
She swims against the river but never its streams.

She’s apathetic with a survivor complex
Her antipathy burns like acid through anyone’s core
Self-medicating to subtract the effects
That alter her persona; she doesn’t know who she is anymore.