Tag Archives: Poems

Twinkle… A lies radiance.. (a poem by Jack)

My greatest love is yet but an instrument of the devil…

Projectile vomiting a plane coercively laid out to precision..

The book of life wasn’t written by men.. But it’s words are reverberated by men.. Twisting tales to suit the desires of the storyteller…

Who tells my story but me.. It’s clear for any to read.. It’s there in plain sight… Word for word..

And yet, I still am illiterate to it’s doctrines and stimagtisms..

And my poet laureate is the whore of Babylon… I’m to trust the words.. written and passed down from generation to generation.. To be translated and orally dictated to me by a whore?

The whore of a fuckin whores..

And I believe her… Because I’m infatuated.. Not in love but in love with the thought of being in love..

And through the pale moonlight… My sins are addressed… Made evident.. And thrown in my face… These sins aren’t my story just a mere footnote..

These sins never defined me.. But let the whore tell it…

Her sweet lies, I’ve grown fond of…
As a Siren…I’m transformed… Her melodious references are constantly hypnotizing and reinforcing what I ain’t but what I should be… Such a splendid melody…

Death by desire…

Reengineer my soul while you’ll at it.. You’ve already disfigured my body.. Encroached on my birth rite..

Yet despite the lies… My story will one day rewrite itself…
DNA plastered upon the surface of the galaxy… Words.. Whispering.. Through the stardust…

My story will verberate through the twinkling of the stars…

Holographic Sincerity (a poem by Jack)

I traversed on a plane of holographic ubiquity…

I was swallowed by the shallow..

I saw much… Beyond what a man ought to see…

Too much to process in one instance so time became a blur…

It sped by so swift.. I could make out the remnants of pain and protoplasm.. Succulence and serendipity… Salvation and the transfiguration of Elijah…

By the rod of Moses I penetrated reality… Slithering through souls as though avoiding innocent by standers..

Swallowing the would-be-creations of charlatans: a holographic illusion of the original..
Survival of the fittest holds true… At least in this instance it does…

Blond hair, blue eyes…

Can I reminisce.. When it was oh so intricate but the intricacy made life so pleasant.. More harmonious.. Now life’s simplicity creates so many complications..

It’s like time doesn’t travel fast enough… My third eye is glued wide shut.. Stuck in never land..

Bronze heart… Embolden spirit…

Delivered my mind and the rest was soon to follow… By the word of creation… The sonic vibe of a Big Bang… I’m free… Free from myself to express myself however I see fit…

And as I maneuver through ubiquitous terrain… I see all things are made possible because all possibilities existed and continue to do so…

From hologram to reality to back…

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Never Land (a poem by Jack)

Unfortunate…

I’ve become a victim of habits.. Cursed by the monotony of my own mundane creation..

Tell me… When you see us… Who do you think we are?

A product of form, habit and function.. If so the future is bleak… And if we were to believe you.. The future is dire…

It means we are lost in never-land… Not never never land because that would be an impossible oxymoron..

But never land.. The land where the cursed exchange free will for the possibility of happenstance… A place where there is no dark… Because there is nothing hidden.. Nothing is of your own…

All that was hidden is willingly given away…

Never land… A place of inexistence.. Where lack of existence is so prevalent it becomes the norm…

A place where there are no victims only numbers.. Numbers go on for ever… They pave the road of never land.. Death in numbers.. Disbursement in numbers…greed by numbers.. Nameless infinite numbers that harbor no feelings just gluttony and hypersexuality(numbers love to reproduce)….

No one leaves never land…

Why would they?

You can die over and over and still feel the same..

Besides you couldn’t escape if you wanted to…

This is of our creation.. The heaven of our hell is the hell of our heaven..

Welcome to never land.. Where each day is as innocuously delightful as the next..

The happiest state of mind you will ever know…because the ending is as the beginning…

And we all know how it will end…

How unfortunate…

Hourglass of men….(a poem by Jack)

As the sands of time trickle… My fate is dispersed one grain at a time….

Black sand and rose gold…

I’ve been a god since inception…

I will remain a god through this false assimilation…

And erroneous indoctrination

I’m just not in touch with the world anymore… It both saddens me and worries me…

I watch as granule after granule slowly falls… Human emotion bottled up.. Looking for an excuse to explode… Destroying and ravaging body after body… Soul after soul… Mind after mind…

Atop Mt Olympus I look down in be-wonderment… Is this who I am to live among… Is this what I have created myself to be…

I’m out of touch with reality and reality doesn’t even so much care as to embrace me…

It just keeps on going with the sands of time.. It’s destination unknown… It just keeps picking up souls along the way.. A bandwagon full of wayward souls.. Led astray… Just along for the ride…

To who knows where..

For who knows what..

Til time runs out and reality leaves them behind…

And they are gathered together in a cesspool… An amalgamation of man and man’s image: the manifestation of confusion and artificiality’s love child.

From dust they were not wholly formed
yet from dust they shall utterly return..

One granule at a time…

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Justifiable Atrocity (a poem by Jack)

How do you cure a justifiable atrocity…

How can I shed tears for a self inflicted wound…

A wound that gave my soul life but by the cost of another…

I said sorry but I’m not sorry..

I feel sorry but I’m not sorry…

Your tears minus well be mine… I feel everything you do… Only difference is masochism…

The pain grants me joy… And her smile makes my heart smile.. But that’s only incidental…

It was all so simple… There was an us… And I hated myself for it… So I redefined myself… And hate myself all the same.. But now I have hope..

Hope because your suffering is proof love does exist… And the callus around my heart is proof evil don’t… No evil… Just the infliction of misery from one man to another… Reciprocated and refracted like light bouncing off a mirror…

So can you see my mistake.. Does the light of my truth reflect as honesty or refracted as just another half truth… Just another lie looking to justify my actions…

A man can rationalize just about anything… It’s what separates us from the animals…

And that’s how I justify curing such an atrocity…

Forgive me… For all beauty finds its derivatives in destructive means…

Let that beauty fulfill itself and renew our souls..

And one day… You too will justify my atrocity….

Power to the People (a poem by Jack)

When you realize who you are..

So much power and authority comes with it..

When you realize what your are the lessers offer no resistance…

They try with all their might to surreptitiously negate your authority..

Using clandestine measures to usurp your jurisprudence…

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Poisoning your minds…. Afflicting your body.. Destroying your seed.. Strongholding your myth.. Manipulating your culture… Gutting your schools… Pillaging our families… Buying our voices..

Silencing any and all attempts to break free…

But you can’t destroy who we are…

You may alter who we are..

But you can’t touch what we are…

We will rise…

We will rise again!

Know thyself…

Learn thine enemy…

Let our souls speak for us…

Our history is written across our flesh.. Our truth is blended in our DNA… Let the story be told… Let the whispers inundate… Let the whisperers persist…

Ancestry…

For the people will reclaim their birthright..

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Anything done can be undone… Anything done once can be done again…

Let the earth rescue her seed… And let the people live for love.. Let love be our truth…

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And let the earth evolve us unto a new paradigm… So that this pseudo man will perish and a new era will begin…

An era of righteousness…

That we may all walk in the Way… Or at least have the choice to choose…

The earth wants her people back…

And we will give Her– Her destiny…

Of the earth we are and of the earth we will return…

Power to the People…

For the people have Power!

Pride (a poem by Jack)

I’m not trying to know you.. Only love you..

Every last drop… Submerge myself within you until what’s me is lost and unidentifiable..

And then I’ll love myself truly.. All that I do is for you.. Why doubt my love.. Why doubt us.. Why doubt yourself… Because I break you down to build us… Because I give myself to others so that we may prosper..

I look in the mirror and see tears… Not avid weeping… But a slow trickle… The slow rhythmic arc across the cheek circumnavigates and communicates… It expresses the exact nature of our situation..

A slow.. Steady… Gradual crash… Unto a cold… Calculated surface.. I see the tear as it falls… Twinkling through time and taking so much anguish with it… Destroying any joy in it’s path…

Let my love express how it wills…
If my love crumbles you.. Let it be… If my love smothers you.. Well.. Suffocate and baptize yourself in something worth sanctifying…

They tell me I shouldn’t love you…
But I do…
They taught me not to love you…
But I do…
Everyday they give more and more reason not to love you…
But I do…

Despite it all… I learned to love what can love me more than anything else…

And I don’t need to know you… To love you…

But through loving you… I will eventually know you… And I will learn to call you by your true Name..

Death by a Dream (a poem by Jack)

America dreamin…

There is a part of me that doesn’t desire anything outside of death..

But then there is the other side of me.. That normal part that my mother created.. You know.. That wants a family.. Prestige.. And love..
That part of me stands over the real me with a whip…

It won’t let me live… Because if I lived– of course it would die…

Which is the real me? I think we both know the answer to that.. If you have to force your will well then you have no true power..

Because I’m in love with death doesn’t mean I desire life any less than the next man… Life is bountiful… But death is so much more.. Life is constant chaos.. Death is momentary chaos followed by peace followed by the choice of the two.. But at least there’s a choice…
Death is freedom… Freedom is truth.. No more lies and non sense.. Just truth…

Why dream when you can simply be….
Why be of an illusion when you can simply be… No thought because you are regardless…

I think therefore you are…

Life forces you to think… Thoughts control constructs… Can’t I be without the repression of thoughts… Or am I here to justify my means.. Here to question simply for the sake of questioning..

For a finite point to evoke an infinite expression.. Provoke endless possibilities with a finite set of boundaries… And all for what?

And who’s dream has this reality become… From where do these thoughts that dominate originate… Must I remain slumbered to dream… American dreamin… Or can I awaken.. Honesty through death…

The death of a dream…

Saturn Rising (a poem by Jack)

It is the beast who creates peace and war…

It is the god who tames the beast..

It is man who gives love to the gods…

Gaze upon this Trinity… From which you are derived… Who will you let dominate who.. Isosceles… Equilateral … Or right angle of who you are or would claim to be..

Perfectly attuned to a chaotic environment… Perfected within imperfection.. Perfectly suited for this environment–but can your beast evolve… Is your god too out of touch with this reality to even care or is man: mediator between the two, too full of himself to arbitrate?

Or perhaps he’s too busy trying to survive to see any light– blinded by his own survival instincts– smothered by all five senses– inundated by your sensations…

Sensations guiding the spirit.. Empty Addictions… Pointless lust… Insatiable greed… Surrogate gods all served by men and man alike…

Is the beast allowing his nuts to drag… Irreverent of any discipline.. Combative to anything outside of licentious wanton.. Perhaps your man suckles from the nectar of the beast’s bosom…

A man who revels in war not peace turning a blind eye to any god of any nature on any level….

And beast usurps god…

As above so below… The body can’t evolve if the setting isn’t adaptable.. The mind defines the reality…

And the beast is at home amongst the shadows..

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Animosity’ s Scapegoat (a poem by Jack)

She utters curses and vitriol…
An avalanche of vile all aimed at me..

Funny thing is… She may be right..
Fate has a cruel way of depicting truth..

Chakras… The path of energy.. Expansion and motion… Sublime feeling…. As on a cloud… Stars bursting and no question is asked..

It’s me versus perception at this point… My body thinks it’s real but all an illusion of the mind…

Say you’ll hate me like no other… I just want something unique: to call my own..

Let my heart pound with the intensity of emanate fear when in your presence… I just wanna be all the way alive…

Curses from all direction… Who but I am chosen to withstand it all… Completely sober… Absorbing… Ingesting the disgust… The animosity is at a pinnacle…Puts me on edge but the come down is so relaxing…

If he knew better he’d do better… That’s the only calming words they can utter…

They shit exactly what you feed em.. A mantra that keeps me sane.. If you don’t feed em they can no longer shove their shit in your face..

It’s all a joke…

They’ll always find a way to shove their shit on you… You just have to be at a far enough distance so that it doesn’t stick..

Let them drown in their own shit.. But for now the filth is all I have to hold on to… All I have keeping alive..

So resume your verbal assault.. You.. You… You… And her…

Eye understand…

And I see…