Random thoughts and feelings

Why is it that we cultivate an appearance rather than our self? Is it the fear of rejection or the fact that we as humans cannot find our true self because we have lost ourselves. Humans, are animals, that are not primal, we are beings of intuitive insight without instinct, and we are savage without being beasts, Paradox that we are have we been cultivating images for survival or because we are so dellusioned that we believe we need to copy someone to fit in? We are creators obsessed with finding someone else to be.

We water the glass rose, and the other self, our identity, withers from lack of use and the light of love, until it becomes as black as our feeling for ourself and so dissused that once the glass shatters and we are forced to look within we see nothing but the neglect we have given our self.

All throughout life we are told what to be, who to be like, and how to do it. Nobody seems interested in being themself, even though we are always told to be ourselves, we are inevitably told to do something or be more like someone other than ourselves. We are a cultural blending pot of idols taken to the extreme and in worshipping those false idols we have sealed the death of our selves. Identity, precious as it is, is becomming something of a commodity to be traded at will for acsess into a group or a higher social standing, and I don't like it.

It sickens me, to watch imagination wither as we press ourself into a cookie mold we dont fit in, cut pieces of ourself out, and get scorched into whatever shape the mold is, never quite being happy, and never quite being yourself again. I see friends dilly and dally, reverting from themself into something completely different depending on who they are with and where they are. This game of duplicity and the undermining of self confidence has gone on for ages and nobody seems willing to stop...

It makes me cry, to be honest. Sad to the point of tears as I watch the people I know and love for who they are turn into complete strangers, and go about their merry way until they get home, where they turn back into the people i know. Liers and thieves. beggars of morality all, in the end, none stand tall...

Where has the light gone? When did being yourself and NOT having one crowd become such a bad thing? Why can't we just realize that we are all a little bit of everything and everyone we've come into contact with, wrapped around a core of beliefs and feelings that define who we are as beings? We are less than people, scum of the earth, those that stand tall, like oak, and we break before the gale of harassment and hate, an island alone until sunk in the sea of conformity...is it any wonder that suicide rates are going up all over the world? Somedays, I wish i could be happy, and not think these thoughts, but that just wouldn't be me...

So alone, the children weep,
So cold, the thought that creeps,
Why don't you love?
Why do you Hate?
What did I do wrong?
Abandoned,
The fallen angels prey on each other,
While their children weep in fear,
Waiting for the moment,
When in their parents hearts they aren't so dear.
Fear, life and love,
Liberty's chains,
Contain all the pain in the world.
And can be seen through a childs eye.

That's really deep... o.0

*****Poem for a despairing love.


A cold reflection,

a heartless smile,

Why do you cut yourself so?

You think I don't know how dark a soul can get?

Do you think i hate you for being human?

Why do you apologize for kindness,

Why do you cry for me?

Can you not see,

That the cruel mirror you view yourself in,

is one side of a bent coin,

the lights rays, caught in the center,

obstruct the view,

but either way you look at it,

it's still you.

I'll love you forever,

No matter how badly you fold,

when you break i'll be there,

arms ready to hold.

Together we face,

The darkness of human grace,

The cold inside the fiame,

The pain of love, the pain of lust, the pain of loneliness, of guilt and shame of being human.

Animals we may be, but with hearts, though sometimes cold, and sometimes warm,

Perfected by our lack of perfection,

the cracks in the mirror reflect perfectly human grace,

and our hate of pain that drives us so.

Pain to love,

Flaws and perfection,

neverending pursuit,

of a whole, broken reflection.

Darkest... that is amazing.
Please tell me you are publishing a book of poetry in the future?

If he does I would most definitely buy it!! That is magnificent, Darkest. *applause!*

Push me down 'till my head wont show, it doesn't matter, I can't grow. Bind me in chains and I'll just laugh, Can't you see? I was never free. Contracts of the heart and weight on my soul, just drag me deeper. I'm already in the hole. They say that love is free and talk is cheap, but there's always a price to pay. We all have lost our way. Paper money and hearts of glass, too much to do and not enough class, here I sit, makin a pass, At America and life. Failing to stop the vice.
Just gotta hang on to In God We Trust, but forget the Liberty, cause freedoms never free...

I love your poems. Hearts of glass...wow.

Then you might like this one. It's old, but, what the hell, the worst you can do is hate it.

On a shallow shelf i sit, unfeeling, too shocked to be hear those calling my name.
Below me Jagged pillars of deception jut up, rising from the black waters of self hate.
Above me, friends and family try to get me to climb back up, but i don’t have the heart to tell them i am not strong enough to survive such a climb.
So i sit, silent, on a shallow shelf that crumbles away.
I watch it, not really believing i am there.
The shelf falls, shattered by the weight of guilt and sin, but am I on it?
The water beckons, wind rushes by, and I stare hate right in its Leperous face.
The loved ones are shocked and upset.
Wind rushes by.
I stare at the water.
And Time Stands Still.

That first poem sounds so pessimistic with feeling resignation--it's wonderful poetry, though sad it is.
Your second poem looks so familiar--I think I read it on one of your blogs. At any rate, that one is also impressive!

And you dare call MY work pessimistic? Hypocrite. I believe you have, and asked permission to show some friends or something like that...It's been a while since I've showed anyone my poem.

Heehee, I didn't think that poem was pessimistic--not as much as yours. But I suppose there were a few depressive thoughts in there.

Btw I'm moving my poetry over my own topic. I'll let you own this one. lolz

And the one blog I had asked permission to share was the one that was... the rant (if you can call it that). Something about how upset you were that people don't respect other people's feelings. That was persuasive.

I want to draw out that poem now.

Frick you guys make me want to write poetry... but I'm too busy analyzing for my university english class. Ever read Anthem for Doomed Youth by Wilfred Owen? Great poem.

If you draw it, i wanna see the results. O.O And no, I have not read it, but I shall now.

Can anyone else figure out what I was thinking when i wrote this? :/

Take the skin,

Tempt the wolf.

Tame the wolf,

Tempt the Spirit,

Tame the spirit,

And there is no wolf.

Just skin, inviting us in,

To a world so cold,

Not even color can sing,

Black, grey white, red,

All colors bled dry, devoid of the reason for strength,

Passion bled until nothing is left, nothing but skin.

Take the skin,

Tempt the wolf,

Tame the wolf,

Tempt the pack.

I really like that. O.O But to do a literary analysis on why Darkest wrote that would be... hmmm.. like try to dig to China with a plastic spoon. ))