Poem things

Gasping


My heart keeps beating,

But no longer for me,

It beats for all of thee,

People who say my death,

Would cause them misery.

I live for the need,

Of feeling what I hope to be,

Is closer than the horrors in my history,

I’m afraid I am no longer free,

I’m held down by my roots,

That extend down from my family tree,

I have no “Me”,

Just a visionary’s sculpture,

Of what they can see,

A creation for someone else’s glee.

Like I’m living but not alive,

So far away from life,

That I forgot what it’s like,

To be motivated,

Concentrated,

Or meditative,

But yet I’d say it’s just complicated,

I can not take this,

No longer for no reason,

I have to keep on believing,

That by keeping on,

I can keep on dreaming,

That this pain won’t last,

And this change will pass,

I can master my bad habits,

Then change my path,

After all it’s but a matter of fact,

By staying conscious for them,

I can feel freedom again,

Maybe enjoy some friends,

Or create new ends,

By the end of this poem,

Maybe this pain will mend.


NV. – written on September 17th, 2018

Poem things

Systematic


Systematic psychedelics,

Do you know your trippin’

Take another tab,

Now the feelin’ starts to slip in,

Do you need a breather,

Cause the feelings getting clearer,

If you look for limbo,

Then you’ll probably start to see fear,

Down a little path,

To the horrors of your past,

When you took that little tab,

Did you think to just relax,

Now you relapsed,

And the mind has left it’s path,

Can’t you do the math,

This part simply will not last,

If you have the strength to take it back,

This trip could be a blast,

That’s a fact.

Look around,

See the sounds,

Let your mind make its rounds,

Coming back to where we found,

A little little peace in the now,

Because we know there’s no way out,

From our little streams of doubt,

When the mind is filled with clouds,

And our thoughts are far too loud,

All we need is to feel proud,

Maybe regal,

Like in dreams,

For the moment,

Let it be,

Let your trip simply free,

Of commotion and your needs,

Won’t you please?

Let it be,

As you read these thoughts with me,

Through the clouds,

Now you see,

That darkness isn’t meant to be,

When you trip,

It’s meant for glee,

Introspection,

Maybe feeling more complete,

Not letting ourselves be beat,

By a mind to powerfully,

Open to the ability,

To be threatened by our “Me”.


SF. – written sometime in June or July of 2018.

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

Rope


This is to all you privileged,

Self righteous faceless fuckers,

Never have known seldomness,

Never have had a helpless mother.

Or an unsuccessful father,

From a family that’s a bother,

Without money for our problems.

We never had a way to stop them,

Payments after payments,

Do you know what day to day is?


They all say “I’m so alone”,

Yet you sit and stare straight at your phones,

Full of people that you chose,

Nah, you don’t even fucking know,

I bet they’ve never been this low.

Take a look at all my limbs,

All you’ll see are scars and broken bones.

From where I have had to go,

The limits of my patience,

And all the damage I now know.


You don’t wanna know what’s it’s like,

To have to re erase your soul,

Over and over again,

Changing faces as you go,

Never knowing who you’ve been,

Who you should be,

Or if you’ll ever have some kin.

Always feeling unimportant,

And as if you’ll never quite fit in.

If only I could find my ending,

But that’s simply where it will all begin.


Now I hear everyone may be feeling insane,

Still they all know growth and gains,

Never felt full of real sick shame,

Still it’s my kind of people who get the blame,

We may all have a heritage,

But some of us have no names.

No fortune and no fame,

Less opportunistic change,

More redirected rage,

Our society is nothing more than a corporately constructed cage.

Built on laws and governments that are simply meant to take,

All its citizens hopes and dreams,

Monetary values and everything in between.


I bet all of you have had some help,

Probably never really hurt,

Never screamed and never yelled,

For more than materials or your wealth,

Always had a sense of love,

From any one of the beings up above,

Yeah, they’ve never had it rough.

Always had just enough.

What happens when hope takes off its gloves,

Smacks you right across your face,

And asks, “how’s it feel to forget love, never have anything to dream of?”


Have you ever actually been homeless,

Or hopeless,

Remotely contained,

Or throat less,

Had no voice to portray,

Or not felt,

But actually been worthless?

I was told life is game,

That makes me feel lifeless.

As if it’s something to be tamed,

What a joke,

It’s meant for those rich,

And those famed.


So when you sit there,

Do nothing but assume,

As if you could even have a clue,

Don’t begin to think you will understand,

Any of the feelings that I’ve been through,

Or what I have had to do.

Everybody’s life is little different,

And I wish that mine would just end soon.

Take me out of the gutters that I’ve construed.

Away from the problems that I’ve been glued to,

And all the situations that I can’t seem to get through,

Unlike the drugs and alcohol that I so habitually find ways to consume,

As if they can settle my symptoms,

And make my mind feel new,

As if I can drunkenly just pick and choose,

Motivations and places to not be riddled the fool,

This life it just gets to me,

So now I’ll enter the rope.


SF – written between August 10th and September 4th, 2018

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

What’s New

Hey,

What’s new?

You’re choosing to walk away?

Oh, cool.

You get to do that to me again?

Cause I’m the fool?

With nothing to loose?

Well then fuck it,

Were through.

What’s it gunna be this time huh,

Another six months,

For nothing to get done?

Is the when you’ll have had enough,

Of the distance you developed between us?

Is that when you’ll wanna take another chunk of what little bit of love I even have left?

Now I’m loosing my damn breathe.

Now I’m questioning all of the things that I do,

Why I give up my time to be there for you,

Sit in silence so somber just thinking life through,

Wondering why the hell you always give up so soon.

And what the hell is the meaning of truth,

When all that you say,

Has more meanings than two.

SF. – written on August 8th, 2018.

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

Do or Die


What do we do,

When we recognize our failures,

Sink into the un true,

And see all of our stale years?

People say to persevere,

Overcome the problems,

That’s all I ever hear,

Yet still find no way to stop them.

Bad habits and reputations,

Digging holes and feeling useless,

Can become a situation,

Even if you never choose it.

What do we do,

When we become what we shouldn’t,

Forget so much too,

And recognize what we couldn’t?

Do we pick ourselves back up,

Follow through with all our dreams,

What happens when things get tough,

And depression is bursting out your seams?

I don’t know about you,

I can only speak for I,

But when it’s pain that you’ve been through,

Life becomes do or die.


NV. – written on 8-11-18