A mediocre poem. Check it

Discussion in 'The Artist's Corner' started by Smokables, Jun 2, 2012.

  1. Flame me if you will.

    It appears that my words are what's twisting me
    it seems as if you interpret hostility
    when I communicate during a minor epiphany
    metaphysically
    gifts are meant to be free
    to my right I catch your eyes seeing me
    nostalgic in remembrance of how things used to be
    but success needs positivity and mobility
    so we carry on pondering the future, see
    futuristically stuck in a milky spacial entity
    attempting to confirm destiny
    while death keeps threatening me
    she used to stand next to me
    but I believe she's ready for round three
    standing upright staring menacingly
    the powers vested in physiology
    she carries on while I suffer terminally
    like an illness or disease
    with my bradycardia I rock a slow beat
    I've said it before, sometimes it's painful
    to just breathe fuck my atrioventricular valves
    even in death you'll hear my heart beat
    inspired by my intangible positive key and optimistic activities
    you'll carry on in spite of my memory
    relentlessly until you find your psychological formula to succeed
    it's at this point you'll understand the difference
    between wants and needs
    reasonable consumption and ostentatious greed
    not a part of the one percent so I suppose I enjoy democracy
    and although I'm left wing I don't believe any single political party
    with one set of values, ideals, and beliefs
    can truly succeed in a deficient system since
    something like ninety-seven point three percent
    of human beings are faulty not solely because of their upbringing, biological chemistry, or chromosome pairs tagged at twenty-three
    also, lets not blame unrelated concepts like the theory of relativity
    or epistemology study is only beneficial, knowledge is healthy
    but ignorance can be bliss under the right heat
    I trailed off, I'm sorry
    but I don't have the answer as to why
    homo sapiens is not only chronologically the worst species
    my apologies for the rambling my subpar flow lyrically
    no modesty now that you're here lo siento, I'm never worth the read
    it's the subject matter that kills me
    so the lines appear endless, see
    I write to express myself emotionally
    apparently through poetry
    best things in life truly pose no fee but if you live in the big fifty you'll need at least a little currency to call yourself free after the age of eighteen, at least until you sleep. You can't escape from freedom while you dream.

    a decent rant..my bad. Peace.
     

Share This Page