beforeyourdemise-blog

[beforeyourdemise-blog]

from now i'm going to write poems with no specific direction. they'll be an unfiltered stream of conscious thought, with all of those subconscious undertones included that never make it through to my poetry's "finished product" state. i never really feel like my poems reach a conclusive ending anyways, and at this point i'm almost positive it's because of the deliberate censoring i encroach upon all of my creative endeavors. i don't even know why i do it honesty, because everything that i create is entirely for me. even if the target demographic isn't myself, i do it all for me. the satisfaction of creating something is an entirely selfish feeling that is not magnified for me by my creations bringing pleasure to someone else. self-expression does not imply the need for exposure of expression to someone else. there's so many things that i've created in life that i never showcase and i have the fullest of intentions of keeping that way. beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and i like the idea of keeping the beauty of my self-expression unscathed from the opinionated eyes of you. and it's nothing personal, i'm sure there's an uncountable amount of "you's" out there who could wholeheartedly appreciate the things that i've created and decided to keep to myself, but at that point the original feeling of those things would be disfigured and misconstrued by your own interpretations of whatever i originally tried to portray. art is so subjective, and that's great and all but it makes it impossibly difficult to truly have a developed understanding of a piece of art when you weren't there during its initial conception. you weren't there, and probably never will be there. we try so hard to hold on to one another when at the end of the day, we're all alone. whether you feel it or not, we've all always been alone. we even go as far as to hide our collective loneliness by developing sophisticated social structures amongst one another. the definition of society is the aggregate of people living together in an ordered community. the meaning of the word aggregate, which was probably unbeknownst to you prior to this moment-- is a whole formed by combining several disparate elements. furthermore, the definition of disparate, which is most definitely unknown by the majority of the members of society, is things that are essentially different in kind and that don't allow for comparisons. and so at the root of all of our glorious congregations is the fact that we are all dissimilar and fundamentally separated from one another because of such differences. it's too easy to become dependent on someone else for your happiness, but happiness is something that we all chase so selfishly. i still don't know what's the key to my own happiness so how the fuck could i bring you to the feeling of being completely happy. honestly it's hypocritical of me to say this, but my happiness is probably a person. to be continued.

[beforeyourdemise-blog]

My mind is enveloped in an inescapable view; a lustrous future exponentially brightened by the companionship, of you. A woman of eloquence and elegance, my heart-stopping muse. I’d travel to the ends of the Earth just to gaze for a moment, at such a beauteous view. To carry the weight of these words— if only you knew. Your porcelain skin coupled with that rose-colored, impervious grin. Those gentle-hued, hazel refuges of hope, leave me breathless— forever endless wanting of more. My words, they’re chosen fastidiously in hopes of portraying proper meaning-- and truth be told, I feel this poem does not shed light to a message so hopefully gleaming from the heart of a man who lost sight of such light. But here I lay, laying truth on to surface, etching an overwhelming amount of memories in to a long handed poem with the intent to help you hear it’s purpose. Remember the man encapsulated in a story so daringly titled "A Broken Child’s Tome”, and see the man he seeks to become— one capable of love and who's equally worthy of such.

[beforeyourdemise-blog]

i think i grew up too fast and now i have nothing to look forward to

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it’s getting late and i never sleep.

this isn’t a poem, it’s just the truth.

[beforeyourdemise-blog]

rapped to the tune of moonlight shawty

and we could get lost in the moonlight / let go of that stress, get your mood right / cause it's been weighing down on those blue eyes / and i can't take it when i see you cry / wipe those tears on my sleeves, i'll hold you tight / you're the reason i'm here baby tonight / fuck with me in these streets and i will fight / but i'm not fighting fair cause i got a knife / and i been past the point where it's fuck life / ask the bro for a cig and for his light / fill my lungs with some smoke cause it feels right / put some drugs in my nose till mind's fried / stain my shirt like my soul cause it's not white / got some ash on my pants and my insides / but when i'm with you, girl i lose sight / of this game full of pain that is called life / cause your smile so wide and it shine bright / like the ones on a car / "check the brake" lights / but i fucking hate it-- because you lie / cause you think that you're slick and it ain't right / and that's what i get cause i'm too nice / and i give in too much to the wrong types / but you got me right now and i won't try / to change the outcomes of fate / guess i'm doomed, right? / fuck this song i'll finish the lyrics later. goodnight.

[beforeyourdemise-blog]

take a jump in these waters

come find what you're missing

-smokeveteran

[beforeyourdemise-blog]

At the start of your day

You put back on your face

You hide your inner you

You cage your boundless grace

Harmless strokes, it takes

From a brush and base

You've painted on your face

You've fastened down your waist

And when you step outside,

You step out from your life

Expecting arms held wide,

But no embrace you find

It's like the sun won't shine

It's like the world is blind

Cause it looked right past you

Past your glistening eyes

To be continued

-☹

[beforeyourdemise-blog]

I️ hate that when I️ write poetry it usually falls in to a certain tempo.

A typical trait, speaking words of an atypical taste.

A poem shouldn’t be about how things are said, it should be about the ideas in which it was written to portray.

Words sometimes lie, depending on the order in which they lay. And lies are okay if they had good intentions, I️ mean we’re not all saints, and we hate causing tension.

-☹

[beforeyourdemise-blog]

Cigarettes for your sorrows

and a drink for your pain

To soften up the edges of those memories

and to cover up their stains

But even such a holistic remedy

won’t help you forget

the things that you say

When you’ve had too much of life

in such a sparingly short day

And they all add up to form an unfinished book

Whose cover is engraved with the name of a person

Who never stops and takes a moment

to live in the moment and give a good look

At the things that are there

to be admired by him —

As they were chosen so carefully

and placed in his life to show

Him that each breath is a virtue

A fact that one day, he’ll hopefully know

But until that time comes

another cigarette will do

And a bath for his brain

in some gas station booze

- ☹

[beforeyourdemise-blog]

With the shape of a goddess and with words of a saint, and the precious long after within grasps of his fate. Your presence so cherished by a man lacking face, for the life has all fleeted from his cold hearted case. Enshrouding his mind from the sorrows he wore, so proudly as if purchased from his favorite...

clothing store.

His wounds still sore, yet he still soars. Above and beyond the grips of his fate,

A movement so cherished, not a moment too late.

- ☹

[beforeyourdemise-blog]

C’est ma vie, et j'ai t’ai deja dit

Que je suis seul, et j'ai perdu le sommeil

- ☹

[beforeyourdemise-blog]

And how does it feel, to become so numb?

To shut out the world, to stand against everyone with an expressionless face that screams "I am one"? And one you remain.

You'll never fit in if there's no one fit for the confines within your brain. And who's to blame? The misfortunate childhoods inscribed on us all like a branding of what it means to be the living essence of good? I'll never understand why our struggles and strains are only mentioned when we seek to shower ourselves in shame. There's no shame to be shared from the lives that we live, we learn and we grow and for fuck's sake-- we're kids.

Maybe aged in spirit, but ageless at heart. You can't stop a fire if it burned from the start. To smother a flame is to tarnish its' name; release blackened smoke from an instinct so tame. I hope this ignites your heart and drives you to be, the you that you dreamt of in childish dreams and the daydreams of life and what life truly means. Let your meaning of life be the meanings you make, never look back to dark days for the readings of fate.

For you are a blessing that cannot be missed, the earth is your mother, she's craving your bliss. The glints from your eyes could shine bright through an abyss. So hold your head high and stay true to what's you. You've made it this far, yet there's so much to do. The world is your oyster, shed your shell and be.. you.

- ☹