Sunday, May 24, 2009

The Analytical MisAnthrope

What is the alternative to self ostracization?

A) Giving in to mediocre masses
B) Relinquishing your individuality at the door of the party
C) Quantity of acquaintances over quality of companions
D) All of the Above.

Sorority girl puking in the corner
Cheap beer and music that makes
Conversation indistinguishable
Plastic cups and ping pong balls
Ugly strangers hooking up with
Uglier ones, searching for
Momentary meaning to sedate
Their meaninglessness and mediocre
Existence with a random fuck
And a morning regret.
The lucid conversations of celebrity
Fluff and gossip, skittles and fashion,
Sports statistics, fuck statistics
Too far from the truth, too drunk to care
Torpid adolescents who become stagnant adults
Remaining useless in their existence…

…all makes the emptiness and uncertainty
Sleepless nights and writer’s block
The self-inflicted loneliness of
Misanthropy, the bitterness,
The cynicism and quandaries
Of self-doubt and pitiful loathing
Of those outside your door,
The maniacal internal rants and
Psychotic streams of consciousness
The mental masturbation, the darkness
And seclusion from the hatred of
Those masses of indifferent fools…

…worth it.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Philosophia

Philosophia


Nascimini servis ipsis et nos fidei

Si est modus ad omnes res, cur ponimus modos in nobis?

Vivere sin sententia es vivere in summo statu libertatis.

***

We are born slaves to ourselves and to our faith

If there is a limit to all things why do we put limits on ourselves?

To live life without meaning is to live in the highest state of freedom

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Escape

Let me be the break
in your monotony.

an escape
from numbness.

come here and discover
what you've forgotten.

come here and touch
this moment, this body
you are alive again.

breathe deep.

forget the minutes.

slide
down this mountain
of my body.

drink
from the cup
between my legs.

simmer in desire
inside this resolve.

electric fingertips
glide
.
we are reborn
free into each other.

wild.

alive.

Come here and breathe...

Soul For Sale

I've sold my self
there is nothing left for you to hold
I've sold my self
to routine
for summa cum laude
to rich folks
for a few dollars
to cosmetics
for a few glances of the opposite sex.

Those great ones
slept on benches
drank themselves to their end
ran down the street
with their genitals hanging out.
Roaming the country.
Living off of
Roominghouses and nickels.
fucking the world
one whore at a time.

Those great ones who became
the rich and worshiped
reluctant celebrities
Beatnik idols
they all eventually
sold themselves too.

Here I am with too pretty a face
for my own good
the cynicism boiling underneath
this too short of a skirt
Always on time
confined to a soul defeating
abusive routine.
Waiting to be knocked
off of this godamn monotonous
humdrum we call a life.

C'mon

Your life is over when you think its just beginning.
The beginning of your marriage: your life is over.
Tenured job security: your life is over.
Making babies: your life is over.
Mortgaging a house: your life is over.
401K and retirement funds: your life is over.

You have the rest of your life figured out.
You are imprisoned in this pathetic
security blanket you call your life.
You cling to the present as if it will be your future
In fear of change, growth, discovery
In fear of living.

That which you promised for a lifetime
will grow old and expire
while the world passes you by
and a whole lifetime of stagnant security
isn't as fulfilling
as one day of urgency.

Isn't as fulfilling as our one day of urgency.
You know it, I said it.
C'mon...