Eterna dezamagire IVEterna dezamăgire - Povestea (ultima parte)
să vezi cum se alege praful
grăunte cu grăunte
din tot ce ai creat.
să-ţi răbufnească of-ul
când după o vreme
te-ntorci de unde ai plecat ...
Azi sunt defect!
În mine urlă
ai satanei discipoli
după înflăcărare ...
şi cere îndurare
însă instinctu-mi sadic
mă îmbie spre păcat .
CU CE-AM GREŞIT ?
Cu zgârieturi de cărbune
acum te rog să-mi spui!
Căci eu stârpind
defecte şi iluzii greţoase
şi zdrobind orgolii
am rănit pe destui .
Am înţepat speranţe
şi minunate vise
eu iaraşi am ucis ;
frica îmi curge prin vene
şi înot ea ma îndreaptă
către acelaşi oribil
şi terifiant paradis !
Tu , înger trist ,plângi
înmărmurit de scenă
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.
Incursiune in AbsolutIncursiune in Absolut7 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.
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?
Mi-e frica de moarteîmi pare rău pentruMi-e frica de moarte6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
toate coşmarurile mele,
vârfuri de săgeţi
ce mă apasă pe creier.
uneori aş vrea
să nu fie atât de grele
-n mintea mea.
setea de viaţă
se-ncheie cu gâtul uscat
şi-o piatră-n pământ.
mi-ar fi mai bun
decât o altă viaţă,
să nu pot să o frământ,
prin palme, prin unghii roase
de omizi şi -
de viermi de mătase
gândul în sine,
de moarte mă-nspăimântă,
nu-i viaţă în ceruri
nu-s ceruri în sfere
de gaz şi de nori
atât de pământene.
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.
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.
senaztia de a iubiMi-e dor de inca netraita senzatie de a te iubi. Mi-e dor sa iti urmaresc linia sprincenei, sa iti sorb privirea amuzata, atunci cand m-ai putea intreba ce fac. Si eu sa iti spal in mainile tale noi toate florile pamantului pe care poate il calci, iar dupa noi sa ramana un singur rand de pasi care ar fi tot ai tai prin mine. Mi-e dor sa beau din tine tot amurgul si rasaritul pe care nu-l vom trai vreodata poate, si sa ascult necantata muzica a parului tau cand iti va fi cazut pe umeri. Mi-e dor sa stam ca-ntotdeauna ghemuiti in patul nostru neinventat inca, si sa privim mirati cum umbrele noastre se joaca de-a noi incolacite intr-un nejucat dans al pasiunii. Mi-e dor sa ne aud copiii ce nu vor trece vreodata prin tine sau mine, strigandu-ne, si tu, cu gratie onirica, sa le saruti fruntile lor de vise ale mele. Mi-e dor de tot dorul pe care ti-l l-as putea purta cand urma ta, corpul tau, caldura ta s-ar transforma in lipsa ta, dimineata la sapte; mi-e dor si de cana ta de cafea pe caresenaztia de a iubi7 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
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
Zeul cultului numit intamplareEtern zeu al imposibilitatii de a spuneZeul cultului numit intamplare8 years ago in Open More Like This
ca faima-ti apune. Lipsit de eleganta si subjugat in detasare,
oare esti capabil de vreo minune
cand vraja apune? Zeu inchis in oglinzi patate de resemnare.
Sarcofag al nepasarii mele superb ca un eufemism
pentru cuvantul "egoism". Cu ochii sangerand in abandonare,
ca un Iisus convertit la budism
din egoism. Ce sunt eu, in zare doar un cristal de sare?
Invata-ma, o, zeu, si pe mine sa zbor peste mare
de uitare. Cu aripi ascutite, de indiferenta,
chiar daca patima nascuta din desfranare moare
fara ragaz pentru uitare. Zeu fara esenta, doar o prezenta.
Adept al cultului cel mai raspandit sub soare
numit intamplare, zugravind utopii morbide,
auzi cu ochiul mintii filosofii nebanuite, milenare,
din pura intamplare. Ce sunt eu, numai dorinte vide?
Pierduti intr-un blestem de noapte-adanca
de stanca - pe care-l credeam concept pervers-sublim
Uitati in uitarea noastra de sine natanga,
infipti in stanca. Nevegheati, printre morminte de pasiuni, sa
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
IdentityIdentity12 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
Vanilla SkyVanilla SkyVanilla Sky7 years ago in Open More Like This
Doar sticlă spartă şi uitare
să-ngroape conceptul din noi (care moare)
fotografii ce-au fost doar imaginate.
Lipsă acută (şi perfect justificată) de credinţă.
"noi" (cel de la graniţa cu "eu")
De ce să crezi când poţi fi tu
cel care sparge şi uită
care moare infinit (fără consecinţe)
în fotografii editate
când tu eşti propria-ţi lipsă de credinţă, când tu eşti noi.
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.
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
The Relationship...."Times like these. Someone is writing and we are only words."The Relationship....10 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
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.
EroticaNesatisfăcutăErotica6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
precum o întrebare,
te apropii de mine
Îmi trimiţi pe rând
vor să-mi simtă parfumul,
tu-mi descoperi conturul
ce-ţi ascundea alura
Încet, întinzi o mână,
tremurând a dorinţă,
după un sărut...
de irezistibilă fiinţă,
te cuprind în braţe
carnal ţi le ating
cu senzaţii şi vreri...
spre alcov ne împing,
fantezii şi plăceri...
Trupu-ţi fin, fragil,
uşor îl dezveleşti,
nudul tău perfect
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
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?
Depressed? Do not read thisYou sit there smoking cigarette after cigarette. Thoughts running through youre head but they are all obsolete, none of them mean anything more than a flicker in the back of your mind. Youre eyes grow black bags underneath and become bloodshot as you rub them over and over again in some futile attempt to make the aching disappear the pain vanish? Again and again you make yourself believe that this will end, there will be a day that change will come, but in reality nothing will change, because of the simple and undeniable fact that you have about just enough effort and drive left in you to actually open your eyes in the morning, or at night .whenever. You will forever be the same depressed recluse that this horrible world has made you, its the old expression that shit rolls down hill as you know things will not get any better until you feel better about yourself, which is not happening and thats the reason you have lost all hope.Depressed? Do not read this6 years ago in Open More Like This
Te iubescFara doar si fara poate , TE IUBESC.Te iubesc9 years ago in Open More Like This
Fara cand si fara cum eu, TE IUBESC.
Fara cine stie cum sau care cale-ntortocheata
Ne-a adus sa ne-ntalnim … eu, TE IUBESC.
Te iubesc, pentru ca tu esti tu,
Si te iubesc, pentru ca eu pot fi al tau.
Si azi o zi, si maine-o luna sau un an,
Si poate daca zeci de secole vor trece,
Eu tot te voi iubi … a lumii minune Femeie.
In sangele ce-ti curge-n vine este venin de cobra,
Si pe-ale tale talpi, ascunse ca sa nu le vada nimeni,
Sunt scrise doar descantece de dragoste si dor.
Caci altfel nu pot sa-nteleg cum tu minune,
Ai reusit, sa ne supui pe toti.
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.
EmoEmo8 years ago in Open More Like This
Emo is black.
Emo is red.
Emo is a love of darkness,
But always needing some light.
Emo is the way you look,
But more the way you are.
Emo is resisting the world
Because you can't stand routine.
Emo is loving everyone you know,
Even if sometimes you wish they didn't exist.
Emo is hurting yourself or your body
When deep down you really love them both.
Emo is making your own choices,
While relying on your friends to make it through.
But really, emo is not caring how fucked up you are,
Cause there are so many friends just as fucked up as you.
Emo isn't hate.
Emo is love.