Eloquent fantasies of poetry part VII

I write words into poems not to escape life with all its joys and pain
But just trying to explain to my brain the intricate pleasure of riding this gravy train
Because being alive and breathing in first world comfort is a blessing taken for granted
To believe that material possession and comfort is happiness is to be mistaken, granted
I double think the jeers and fears of modern life and cringe at society’s double speak
However I wake up in the morning with trepidation reassuring myself that its not all bleak
Despite all the fear and jeers from the media we as a race can be focused on the positive
You should know though that feeling down or dark is also a normal human attribute
Not a feeling you should dispense with or ignore because it is a side you cannot rebuke
That voice that lets you know things aren’t all ok for all and that something is to be done
Or that it should be, that we should link forces and energies for all not just for the one
In my words my themes repeat and conjure a feeling of habit or boredom
But this theme is what pushes me to create and to decipher my cerebral conundrum
Expressing doubts onto paper using a pen to vent my frustration or shout my appreciation
Because just as my words don’t always achieve a means to an end
I share these words to help myself with my thoughts and to somehow comprehend

Eloquent fantasies of poetry part VI

I’ve always known that I dislike failure 

I’ve always avoided anything of that nature 

But maybe it’s more than just an ill sensation 

Failure disgruntles me in a way that isn’t always fit for comprehension 

I need to be always right or adequate to appease my inner voice

Growth and a change of comfort zone is what I order without getting an invoice

Why do I fear change and growth when itself barely bares me in mind?

I’ve grown and failed into the man writing these words for all to find.

Content or not in who I am doesn’t even scratch the surface of my thoughts 

In my mind I am the king hiding amongst his servants behind the forts 

Towers of compliments and familiarity shield me from the horror of failing 

Will  I allow disorder and inadequacy to bathe in the pleasure of prevailing ?

Eloquent fantasies part V

Eventually I guess we all become kind of lonely.

Like happiness and camarederie becomes quite phony. 

We all go searching for it, like an inner craving.

It shapes how we think how we feel and  how we are  behaving.

We build relationships with people even if we don’t feel respected

We cover distances and ignore reason for money because it is expected

We are told this  is how life is and we should be grateful

To live in a democracy where equality prevails and where no one is hateful.

Where wickedness and lack of justice is confined to the other 

But if it exists here and you see it  we’re told not to bother 

Our world is successful and full of human progress 

We are told to strive for better and to accept nothing less

But when we complain at the madness of our society we become ostrecised 

I’m caught between what I am told and what I see, in no man’s land caught offside.

I wake up in the morning hopeful told not to worry and be happy

But I feel like it’s just a soundbite you tell your kid so he doesn’t shits himself in his nappy

More than he has to because the truth of our ugly society would mean that tears

And fears would be ever present and that joy is a feeling that soon disappears

Adult life becomes your reality and wonder and imagination become pressure 

To conform, to meet targets, to do the right thing 

But who the fuck knows what that means when our myths and legends become boring 

So dull because the truth behind them become so apparent we are no longer in shock 

Our heroes are con men and leaders are thieves but we follow then blindly like live stock  

We believe in the freedom fighters and the underground artist

Who fight for our cause and our  beliefs but who truly crave the limelight that they merit

Eloquent fantasies of poetry part IV

Joy is a temperamental nearly evasive feeling
All it takes is a key going into the door as it opens squealing
Did the door really make that noise or was it in my head?
It’s hard to remember anything other than running for my bed
Foot steps were heavy but sloppy, his words followed the same pattern
My heart was heavy and my tears were ready but repetition can dishearten
How easy is it to confront the one you are supposed to admire?
How do you accept that a source of comfort bathes you in the confusion of a liar?
You want to make him proud but it is hard to do so when yours has gone
Everyone dreams of becoming theirs but how do I accept that doing so would be wrong?
Parents are deemed to be flawless and the beacon of truth you should follow
Discovering the opposite at a young age can leave one pretty hollow.

Eloquent fantasies of poetry part III

Is it normal for man to avoid failure?
To shiver and to quiver at the sight of displeasure
Success comes from failing they say
The gloom and doom of night is followed by a new day
You have to face your demons and your deepest fear
You cannot descend into vain madness, you are not King Lear
Easier said than done is a common saying
I can see why the fearful and the desperate turn to praying
It is comforting to believe your fate is in the hands of another
That happiness and grief are life’s interchangeable feelings, so why bother?
These thoughts are deemed unhealthy by the peers of society
But how else can you react to the madness you witness in total sobriety?
I express myself through vocabulary and the written form
I try to articulate the uncertainty of the future into a comprehensible norm
I want to believe this will help me, become a sort of therapeutic activity
I want to believe this will help me, avoid a neurotic continuity

Eloquent fantasies of poetry part II

 

                                                                                POETRY

 

It is sunny outside but it feels gloomy outside
I want to do everything without doing anything
I want to achieve goals but motivation comes and goes like a pussy cat doll
I would like to be here and there away from it all but never dare
I would like to create magic and art in a world seemingly tragic and without heart
I don’t want a nine to five job joining the rat race I want to look at the mirror face to face
Be proud and confident in who I’ve become for my soul to not become zero-sum
I want to smile at the universe whether through my lips or my verse
I want to be listened to and to acknowledge to be free not to be in a bondage
I want words I effuse to mean and to feel for them to redeem and to have mass appeal

Eloquent fantasies of poetry.

POETRY

I met this girl on my travels in lands far far away
Now I am away from it all, I long for the past day to day
But was the love dipped in the illusion of the scenario?
Was it all just a phase a one hit wonder like what you hear on the radio?
I thought words for this topic would flow smoothly out of my mouth
I thought I knew how to direct my thoughts flawlessly like birds migrate to the south
As I think deeper about my feelings the more eclectic they become
My brain shuts down with emotion whilst love blinds me I become
Guided by my beating heart like rhythm follows that of a drum

My heart tells me that I still long for the happiness she used to offer
The increasing rhythm of my beats tells me that her love was a buffer
Now conflictions of thoughts and urges battle within and questions arise
Am I still on her thoughts or will the concept of us end up as nothing but a demise
It is harder than ever to leave a loved one in the past, as a fond memory
When technology lets you know that this memory is now shifting its own trajectory
It is shifting its new reality without you and her memories become distinct
You want to maintain this illusion that you are everything to her but follow that instinct
The one that you hear and feel but sometimes ignore and cover with neglect or anger
How could you move on or how could you linger for someone who was the perfect stranger