Category Archives: aging

Self Pity Sonnet

The unrelenting exhaustion I feel

Is the sum total of my self pity

An amorphous weight that despair does seal

Rhyming this observation is shitty

While I am painfully aware of it

(My proclivity for melancholy)

I cannot seem to be free of this shit

(Such is the modern bourgeoisie’s folly)

While I might appear to be paranoid

Seeing enemies in familiar faces

These grim thoughts help to fill depression’s void

Cementing me in these dreary places

I do not feel worthy of these feelings

Garish 1st World problems have me reeling

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Vice Sonnet

When does independence become a sin?

What makes providing for one’s self like pride?

It is clear that the line is very thin

Between virtue & viciousness inside

Deep within the “do for yourself” lies greed

Having to share survival’s accolades

Is the beginning of pride’s erosion’s seed

& just witness: “ease” becomes “sloth’s” bridesmaids

“Gluttony” is a psychological

Reaction to famine irrational

We can’t control the dialogical

Reaction to the inspirational

Vices are virtues shadow inversions

Showing people’s necessities’ diversions

Reality Sonnet From Photo

All the realities that we enjoy
Are merely some thin projections’ shadow:
What’s seen by us are visions we deploy
From the base existences that we know

The concrete reality that we see
From gentle breezes to birds & buildings
Are things that are & things we just believe
Existence is consciousnesses’ gildings

While it is painfully obvious that

There is an external reality

Within which we are all totally trapped

Without beliefs is falls to frailty

Here I have spent some time meditating

On the nature of truth: start berating

Headline Sonnet on Suicide

“[A] Body [Was] Spotted in Brooklyn Park

Just minutes after corpse found hanging

In [A] Waterfront Building[: A Sad Arc

This future’s possibility’s waning]”

The Daily News, who bothered to report

Said “The incidents are unrelated.”

But I want to dissent: sadness exhort

By depression they were both fellated

I feel the eddies that pulled them under:

A world of endless possibilities

With some chosen able to make thunder

Out of the reach of mere humanity

We are paying for the celebration

Of venal riches’ accumulation

http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/nyc-crime/ny-metro-brooklyn-police-hanging-park-20180607-story.html

Paper Maché Identity Sonnet

The remnants of my dreams cling in fragments

Like the torn strips of wetted news paper

Soaked in Wheatepaste and glue to be pliant

I’m only a paper maché cover

The pasteboard mask that I present to you

Made up of the finest linen paper

Is a simulacrum that is untrue

Made to help me pull off this bold caper

Who is anything more than a puppet

Strings leading up to the bold puppeteer

(Or a hand reaching up to control it?)

Once we know this we can play without fear

The script that we are performing each day

Was written long ago & far away

I Weary of These Infernal Patterns

Doubt in an Uncertain World Sonnet

Our beliefs are just what we think about
Even if they build these thoughts a cathedral
They’re merely thoughts: we can choose to opt out
Belief is freedom for ourselves: simple

If I choose not to believe in magic
Should not spoil your enjoyment of the show
I am an agnostic heckler tragic
Believe in religion: the way you know

The agnostic or atheist’s freedom
To (dis)believe in all your rituals
Is how the God that I doubt made it, son
So we each have “spiritual victuals” 

Believing in Yahweh, Allah or Christ
Does not mean that I have to sacrifice