SuicideSuicide12 years ago in Open More Like This
I'm so sick of suicide
It's everywhere I look
Pictures, and in movies
In poetry and books
I'm so sick of suicide
It's pathetic and it's weak
Blah blah blah so awful
Outlook always bleak
This life's just not worth living
Could they be any more cliché'?
I know that I just can't go on
Isn't that what they say?
Do you live in China
Without freedom's basic choice?
Are you a woman in Afghanistan?
Forbidden to have a voice.
Are you starving now in Africa?
Surrounded by disease
Or under corrupt dictatorship
Forced upon your knees
These people rise to challenges
We cannot comprehend
They live their lives from day to day
And triumph in the end
But daddy won't buy me the car
He promised me last fall
Oh what now am I to do?
I'll have to end it all.
My girlfriend found another
She loves him more than me
I'll bleed until I'm empty
Then she'll finally see.
I'm so sick of suicide.
AnarchyScream the anthem of the anarchist!Anarchy12 years ago in Open More Like This
What is it? Exactly.
I won't tell you; make it up.
Go away. Blow it up.
Burn it down. Deface the town.
But don't give in,
Never -- no.
That's the song we all love so.
Freedom past extremity.
Far away, in my backyard
I own the world; I am a bard.
I wear a beard and shave my head;
All the normals want me dead.
I won't give up; I ramble rave.
You'll never make me behave.
My brother, loser, freak, meek geek
You know-- the beatnick, hippy, punk--
The rock bands my parents debunk--
We treasure what we cannot have:
No allegiance to any flag.
The Relationship...."Times like these. Someone is writing and we are only words."The Relationship....11 years ago in Open More Like This
a small tree
there you were beneath it and lifting one arm up,
throwing one arm back,
in a Venetian garden (I think;
the details are unclear now, muted nouns)
and reaching for it, stretching and reaching,
while the strangest nakedness bathed your body, softened by sunlight.
if only I could paint you as you are
in my deepest of dreams,
with sour citrus fruits.
a medieval invention
plotted the course of our stars today; jokingly,
we listen to the fortune teller who says
'You were alchemists in a life past,
but I do not know if you were lovers
as she plotted the course of your hand,
the lines drawn zodiacally
to determine the altitude of the sun.
an apple-green chalcedony
lay there imagined in the hollow of your neck
where collar-bone met collar-bone,
the smooth white and the gemstone like a bee
the god memorandumthe god memorandum11 years ago in Open More Like This
I hear your cry.
It passes through the darkness, filters through the clouds, mingles with starlight, and finds its way to my heart on the path of a sunbeam.
I have anguished over the cry of a hare choked in the noose of a snare, a sparrow tumbled from the nest of its mother, a child thrashing helplessly in a pond, and a son shredding his blood on a cross.
Know that I hear you, also. Be at peace. Be calm.
I bring thee relief for your sorrow for I know its cause ... and its cure.
You weep for all your childhood dreams that have vanished with the years.
You weep for all your self-esteem that has been corrupted by failure.
You weep for all your potential that has been bartered for security.
You weep for all your talent that has been wasted through misuse.
You look upon yourself with disgrace and you turn in terror from the image you see in the pool. Who is this mockery of humanity staring back at you with bloodless eyes of shame?
The DarknessDarkness is my comfort.The Darkness9 years ago in Open More Like This
It protects me from my fears,
Hides me from them.
In the dark I can watch the light,
Without the light watching me.
The darkness understands me,
It does not judge me;
In the dark we all look the same.
It wards off those who fear the dark;
The ones that seek to harm me.
Darkness is my only ally,
In the war I fight alone;
The war in my head.
Perspectives of a Hallucino...Comfort. The softness of the basement couch. Misery loves company.Perspectives of a Hallucino...8 years ago in Open More Like This
Trickling through my fingers. Whispering across my face, her disappearing
lips trace across my cheeks. The smell is sweet, but she is rough against
my throat. Her smell isn't so much intoxicating as it is suffocating, yet
the smoke paralyses my senses and touches my soul. Her street name is
undeserving of her effect on me. Forever, she shall be known to me as
Mary-Jane. I will never know her beauty.
agnostic manifestoFor how disappointing it would be toagnostic manifesto11 years ago in Open More Like This
Discern that the light at the end of the tunnel,
is just the sun reflecting off of a dead-end sign.
The Truth to LifeDo we have a purpose, is a question one will often askThe Truth to Life11 years ago in Open More Like This
Is there a higher power out there, some greater task
The truth will hurt many, not only a few
People have a hard time dealing with that which is true
There is nothing greater that watches your back
Deal with it, stop crying and build your own stack
You are responsible for the life that you lead
It is not someone else's fault when you don't get what you need
If one wants the stars, they must be grabbed by one's own hand
Nothing in life is freely given there is no promised land
So the question remains, why are we here
For those without faith, the answer is painfully clear
We live only for today and if we are lucky the morrow
To us there is no afterlife, but that brings us no sorrow
Self improvement is our main goal and it starts in the here and now
We refuse to be filled with illusions of grandeur and get fat off them like a cow
The best of us seek improvement in every area we can
Without the proper balance of self there can be no co
hit the alarmhit the alarm10 years ago in Open More Like This
For six years I lived in supermarket doorways
and threw up dry soil. I could have died
I should have
not lied. I have not been to logic class
for three weeks, our task is to determine
consistency. Pen lids can not stop ink
unwinding downstairs, expanding
into last year
where a father opens his fingers
and touches cake wrappers.
He tied a dog chain around his child's neck
for all the stories she told and dirty plates she left
by the cream sofa, then he said goodnight to his wife
with chemical lips
thirty eight minutes later.
This is the room where trees die
and mathematics are always wrong. I make jokes
about the zeros on the wall and try to add them up
before they slip through the gaps in my throat.
I cannot stop them. When I was five
my best friend had legs like breadsticks, she went shopping
with her mother every weekend while mine pushed hoovers
and prescription drugs
into her palms.
I love her through time machines
My cousin ate yoghurt in a caravan
and always washed the d
Incursiune in AbsolutIncursiune in Absolut8 years ago in Open More Like This
Iarta-mi scurta incursiune in absolut
Asta daca mai tii minte cum ne-am cunoscut
Absolut. Irelevant si ireversibil.
Totusi, absolut. Incredibil.
Absolut. Toate mor.
Minte. Pierduta in absolut.
Absolut. Sincer, n-am crezut.
Absolut. Sublim pericol.
Ne prefacem. Intorsi in absolut.
Absolut. Asa a inceput.
Absolut irelevant si ireversibil.
Totusi absolut incredibil.
Absolut toate mor.
Minte pierduta in absolut.
Absolut, sincer n-am crezut.
Absolut sublim pericol.
Ne prefacem intorsi in absolut.
Absolut lipsit de-nceput.
IdentityIdentity13 years ago in Open More Like This
He smiles at himself,
Effortlessly permitting the fragile mirror that faces
Him to echo each one of his vindictive motions.
Both of him laugh.
Which one is real?
Yet what is real?
Is the reflection of the man not just as real as the original?
The second man moves,
He too, has millions of organs working in innate cooperation
To produce a living, impeccable human being.
He only differs by the chains which bind him to his glass prison,
And by strings, which the first man has only to pull
In order to make the second move,
He is a slave, doomed forever to aspire to become the master,
Copying every motion until the master cannot be seen,
And how do we know,
That our reflections have not grabbed hold of us?
Can it be that we are merely the mirror image,
Struggling in a world that seems all too real,
Our strings silently pulled by puppeteers who smile
As they gaze at the product of their sweat?
And if so,
Are you less true than the one whom you are reflecting?
Do you fe
De la inceput pana ...nicaieriDe ce e iarna, iarna ... de ce e dorul, dor ...De la inceput pana ...nicaieri8 years ago in Open More Like This
De ce nu pot sa simt ... de ce nu pot sa mor?
De ce ma plimb pe strazi ... de ce nu-s si eu om,
De ce astept caldura ... de ce nu-mi tai din par?
De ce nu-s si eu peste sau melc sau planta ...
De ce nu sunt si eu un fulg de nea ...
De ce nu sunt natura, nu vreau sa fiu doar parte din ea.
De ce mi-e sete de sangele tau?
De ce mi-e foame de inima ta?
De ce nu sunt planta si eu?
De ce nu-s natura si-s doar parte din ea?
IsolationInundated; Ever longingIsolation6 years ago in Open More Like This
For these shores to recede.
Waiting ever so patiently
For the slightest whisper; a touch.
So weary I grow, so jaded
Of the silent ocean breeze.
The peaceful warriorWe train so we won't have to fight,The peaceful warrior9 years ago in Open More Like This
we are martial artists. To hone these skills developed over thousands of years,
our mind is clear. We strive not to fall victim to society's pressures,
to stand as an individual, and not to take life too lightly.
Everyday is a day to strive for better. It takes decades to master the techniques
handed down through hundreds of years. The tradition and philosophy is kept intact,
the knowledge of peace and persuaion.
To defend ourselves and others, we sharpen our deadliest weapon---the mind.
The mind, body and spirit must be forged like the mighty katana.
The steel, heated and hammered. Again, and again. Each time rolling the fiery metal,
softened and beaten, rolled in towards itself, and hammered down.
Like the blade, we too must be hammered repeatedly in the dojo. And in life, we must take
the blows without retaliation. Turning the other cheek, biting our tounge.
This is how you grow strong. The humble katana. And like the katana, we look
NonexistenceI pray to a God I have never seen,Nonexistence7 years ago in Open More Like This
who lives in a world that has never been,
to save my heart that has never felt,
from eternity's failures, eternity's guilt.
My feet step on grounds no men stepped before,
my lips taste the poison, bitter and sore,
yet it does not kill me,
does that mean,
that I am immortal,
or that I've never been?
I pray to a God that may not exist,
while the iron shackle tears up my wrist,
to tell me the difference of being and not,
to show me the memories that I forgot.
My mind flies to places nobody has reached,
to learn that the stars are nothing but bleached,
spots on the dark, they're not even light,
I think that's 'cause real light brings nothing but fright:
It's bound to discover
all crimes, neatly covered.
I pray to a God because maybe he is,
unlike me and the world,
in them I miss
something to reach.
Karate-kaWe are the ones you'd least expectKarate-ka11 years ago in Open More Like This
to know anything of strategy or warfare.
We are the ones who never start fights,
But are quite willing to end them if need be.
We are not the trouble-makers in life,
But neither are we the straight-A students.
Some of us toe the line on issues more than others,
But for the most part, we blend in.
For all our camouflaging ways, however,
We are the ones who stand alone
Against the struggles of everyday life.
Some of us neither want, nor need, anyone to stand beside us.
We have our philosophies to keep us warm at night,
Our creeds to sing us to sleep.
Our weapons are our teddy-bears,
And our katas lead us to dream.
PhilosophyWhat is philosophy? To philosophize is to not think about something, but to think upon those thoughts. You are to go beyond thinking, a thought beyond the thought. To think, you are to walk upon the ground, and observe it. To philosophize is to get upon your knees, and to DIG into the ground! You are to take your thoughts even further than your thoughts already. But I have heard that to philosophize is a gift. But why? Why cannot everyone take a deeper meaning into the thoughts and think upon thoughts? To dig into them? Is it the "strength" of the mind? For the one unable to philosophize, they are unable to dig their fingers into the ground. But then are we to say that those whom cannot philosophize weak minded? I don't think so. That's not right to say one is weak. But what is it that makes one unable to take a deeper meaning into their thoughts? Is it the mental comprehension? Can one only understand to a certain point? But does that mean philosophizers minds are to be unbound to comPhilosophy8 years ago in Open More Like This
Love is a gun not a flowerThe key that helps start the engineLove is a gun not a flower7 years ago in Open More Like This
Is a replica
I am not the pilot
I am a copilot.
We are reenacting murder.
I am the knife that cuts
Through butter but not bone
For that I must become a bone saw,
But I am not a shape shifter.
What is love?
Love is an obstacle.
Love is a Popsicle,
Melting out in the sun and my hands are all sticky.
Love is a gun, not a flower.
Phantoms songs.Close your eyes,Phantoms songs.7 years ago in Open More Like This
Feel the rain,
Feel the cold wind,
See the colours of immortality
Pray for your soul.
The church announces your get way
Tears make a lake
And the rainbow lights your way
Harvest MoonSilent. Isolated. Ever watching.Harvest Moon6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's round, rough face is perpetually stationary.
The skies at it's feet, it lulls our heads to sleep
And guides the shores to the sea.
With it's pale grey eyes, ever so tired
It smiles with the force of the heavens.
The Dream That ScreamedYou try to say hi but I don't replyThe Dream That Screamed6 years ago in Open More Like This
I stare at the sky and you wonder why
It's not you or me or anything
It's just a dream that screamed at me
You may be wondering how that could be
Just look in my eyes and you will see
How angry I can be at everything
That why I hide the monster inside of me
I can smile and I can wave
I'll even be a good boy and behave
But don't even think I'll be a slave
For it is true freedom that I crave
So don't even try to stop me
I wont be what you want me to be
I'll be me as long as I breathe
I'd rather die than live down on my knee
Procremationso he said let's make a babyProcremation11 years ago in Open More Like This
she said let's just make
and he said
What's the difference?
or a little pink pill
And he said
Isn't it about time... she said
You're never old enough
She said Make life-- make
Ne vedem maineNu stiu cuvinte de-ncurajare si nici nu ma comport prea bine in fata nefericirilorNe vedem maine7 years ago in Open More Like This
Cand vine timpul sa plang ... de cele mai multe ori iau viata la misto si-ncep sa rad
Si-ncep sa cant si plec batand din palme oriunde calea mea ma duce.
Nu stiu sa-ti alin durerea ... dar iti pot da o avanpremiera a dezastrelor ce vor urma.
A tuturor nefericilor peste care vom trece spre aflarea tuturor raspunsurilor existentiale.
Inainte de escaladarea intrebarilor carora nu li s-a dat vreun raspuns,
Da-mi un sarut cu ochii ... inchisi ... da-mi un strop din tine ...
Nu stiu tot ce vrei sa afli ... insa sarutul ochilor tai si stropul din tine
Vor raspunde tuturor intrebarilor legate de mine.
Iarta-mi realitatea si ia viata mea in palmele tale, fa ce vrei cu ea,
Arunca-ma la gunoi, iti sunt inutil, inoada-mi mintile, impleteste-mi catargele
Corabiilor ce le-am pierdut demult, pe marea din ochii tai ... scufundate de tornadele mareelor tale.
Nu stiu cuvinte de alinare, iarta-ma ...
Acum, imi iau realitat
RantWhats Wrong with Society?Rant8 years ago in Open More Like This
When it comes to listening dont tell me you cant
Now here in this moment is time for my rant
Ill tell you whats gone astray with our world
The answer is in your extended reach
Grasped between them is the death I speak
The fatal blow to all things true and heartfelt
A stone in this societys shoe
Comes in assortments of each and every hue
You expect for everyone to melt
When did we replace truth in our homes?
Have we all reached a point where we would rather give a perfect illusion; rather than the honest?
Blame the politicians; blame overcrowding, disease, and crime
You really want to know whats killing our society.
Its the damn fichus tree in your living room
Its telling your children not to play in the rain or in the dark
Its making our youth feel fear before they know what fear truly is
Its encouraging TV over a game of tag
But most importantly its replacing truth with all