You Want A Poem?

You Want A Poem?
(A piece started in 2008, and finished today.)





The world is a jungle.
Filled with men, filled with mice.
Those seeking love. Those seeking vice.
Some seeking redemption. Some seeking sin.
Praying to a God with different names. Praying He'll let them in.
But I'm alone in the world.
Filled with people of every age. Filled with people of every shade.
Everyday a constant reminder. Of every mistake I've made.
And along comes a spider. Using the cover of night to hide her.
Singing songs to open ears. Hoping to alleviate any fears.

She tells to world that she wants me to be hers.
But she doesn't tell them that she only wants me for my words.
That if I'm foolish enough to let her in. The moment I put away my pen.
She will vanish. Like a mirage inside a desert wind.
For the spider is a selfish beast. And she doesn't want my art to cease.
Because she applies my dreams to herself. Saying her love is best for my health.

She thinks every uplifting word, was inspired by thoughts of her.
But instead, she makes our lives seem as bleak, as they ever were.
She tells her fellow spiders, that she is a muse for a modern-day Poe
Which is so far from the truth, but she hopes their jealousy will show
Because she is petty, and validates herself, through the attention of peasants
Then she gets mad, when their reaction, is so very far from pleasant
Foolish little widow, it is on my words that you should daily hinge
For you're a relapsing little junkie, and my poetry is food for your syringe

You are merely a glimpse of the woman I'd want.
And you're the pretentious witch that will forever haunt
Every ounce of respect I had for the woman in my dreams
Because flashes of your stupid face are clogging up the seams
So she's forced to hide in the corners of my mind
And now it takes my entire strength to find
A way to reach her hand
With your over-bearing, barely-caring,
When-you-don't-get-your-way-you-start-your-swearing
Shadow outstretched across the land.

Thanks for being a waste of words.

Gossip Is An Aphrodisiac...

Gossip is an aphrodisiac for the masses. It flows like blood through their circles. The smaller the community, the louder the whispers. The smaller the town, the larger the skeletons they collectively hide. Yet, piety is the mask they all wear. Pointing fingers in private, while flashing peace signs in public. Or in the cities, it may be middle fingers they flash depending on whose car they are leaning on. All so they can post photographic proof of living an exciting life, to gather likes and comments from people who never gave them the time of day in high school. But now after having played the field, now regurgitate a need to settle down and be taken seriously. So they take steps to become society's accepted form of life. All while rushing to procreate in order to ensure themselves some form of legacy. Creating something that will live long after they have come and gone. It's ingrained in all of us. On a subconscious level. Some more than others. Because we, yes I said "we," are an ever-growing collection of hypocrites and/or cyber-tyrants.

All feigning to be more stingy with the "fucks" we give, while sadly caring all too much...

A Quote That Spoke To Me...

"I did not hate God or Christ,
but merely the God and Christ of the people whom I hated"


-  Aleister Crowley