theperplexedpoet

[theperplexedpoet]

age of malice (not the opposition)

malicious actors malicious steeple malicious chapter malicious people you're not the opposition if you do not oppose you're filling a position bent to the will of those who use you for the optics and play you for the fool for fuck's sake please just stop it this is no way to rule malicious actors malicious steeple malicious chapter malicious sheeple you're not the opposition if you do not oppose it's an act of submission that's catering to those who use you as a target as they unmake progress this never should have started should not be in this mess malicious actors malicious steeple malicious chapter malicious people you're not the opposition if you do not oppose placing no inhibitions on the actions of those who use you as the flames in their fiery rhetoric just giving you the blame when they need a heretic malicious actors malicious steeple malicious chapter malicious sheeple you're not the opposition if you do not oppose vulnerable conditions being worsened by those who use you for the optics playing hands so callous hoping we will adopt it take this age of malice malicious actors malicious steeple malicious chapter malicious people you're not the opposition you keep using that word but you have the same mission the money drives the herd (3/24/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

no hours

there is no awe, only shock as the social heart arrests seems seconds are all we've got for now there are no hours left no hours we've long fallen from the top landing hard it stole our breath every second filled with rot for no, there are no hours left no hours we pissed away the minutes we just gave away the days our hearts were never in it not like we were in these graves no matter how you spin it there is nothing left to save we pissed away the minutes when we caved to disarray in the ruins we have not found the means to stifle death now seconds are all we've got as here there are no hours left no hours there is no awe, only shock where no heart can be expressed yes, seconds are all we've got for now there are no hours left no hours we pissed away the minutes as the days drifted to weeks our hearts were never in it you could hear that when we'd speak no matter how you spin it it was only ever weak we pissed away the minutes it was very tongue-in-cheek every road we found was blocked no way to alert the rest that seconds are all we've got for now there are no hours left no hours there is no awe, only shock dying hearts seek to confess every second filled with rot for no, there are no hours left no hours (3/23/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

I took the mind of midnight (mask of the impostor)

I took the mind of midnight to the journey's hollow end the verses didn't fit right knew that as each one was penned and yet I clung to their light hoping darkness would suspend I went the way of midnight convinced that he was my friend the mask of the impostor never wore the way it seemed no names were on the roster yet the slate was never clean this was what had been fostered constructed behind the scenes the mask of the impostor was nothing more than a dream I took the mind of midnight it was just another mask the verses didn't hit right were never up to the task and yet I clung to their light hoping the darkness would pass I went the way of midnight didn't even have to ask the mask of the impostor never reflected that well one more lamb to the slaughter under the most wicked spell this was what had been fostered in the cold confines of hell the mask of the impostor outfitted with its own cell I took the mind of midnight and it took all I had left the verses didn't sit right weighing heavy on my chest and yet I clung to their light hoping the darkness bereft I went the way of midnight until I was out of breath the mask of the impostor never wore the way it seemed no names were on the roster yet the slate was never clean (3/22/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

half the battle (a pained refrain)

opened chaos on my day off and I penned a pained refrain thought it'd pay off but the stay costs for the win the stained remain I am seeking through the reaping the last call of the shadow volume peaking as I'm speaking of the fall and the fallow walk the cobbles squash the squabbles leave a mark no denying as it hobbles between models seeking hearts that are dying in the last scene read as obscene blood gratis in the scripture avarice green reset the mean red lattice get the picture I am going cards are showing shaking fists sabers rattle gauntlets throwing I am knowing and that is half the battle opened chaos on my day off and I penned a pained refrain thought it'd pay off but the stay costs in the end sin stained the plane (3/20/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

dreamt of better tomorrows (long before today)

dreamt of better tomorrows wrought of compassionate ways that was before the sorrow it was long before these days we were in this together or at least that's how it seemed thought that we deserved better we were worthy of the dream but instead we have proven beyond shadow of a doubt greed is an institution from which we have no way out turned hate into a weapon pouring fuel onto the flames we could have learned a lesson but instead we just played games dreamt of better tomorrows wrought of compassionate ways that was before the sorrow it was long before today we were in this together or at least that's how it felt trying to make things better thought we just wanted to help avarice and apathy the wells into which we delved devils with no sympathy only there to help ourselves hate is a commodity and we trade it on the cheap love is just an oddity that came to us in our sleep dreamt of better tomorrows wrought of compassionate ways that was before the sorrow it was long before these days we were in this together or at least we used to be there we had strength to weather this current anomaly hatched on the very edges of this democratic state with its fascistic pledges born of nothing but pure hate where it was then weaponized a true staple of the game compassion was threatened by our penchant for choosing flames dreamt of better tomorrows wrought of compassionate ways that was before the sorrow it was long before today we were in this together or was that always a lie repeated for good measure with no intent to comply (3/17/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

he cast a midnight shadow

strike at the heart of midnight this eternal nom de plume exceed the limits of the light that remains trapped in this tomb he cast a midnight shadow or did the shadows cast him while drowning in the shallow verses of a broken hymn his voice drew hoarse and heavy as it echoed from within his pace was slow and steady so the race was his to win until the day he faltered remnant traces on his skin while running from the altar where this all was set to end strike at the heart of midnight this eternal nom de plume exceed the limits of the light that remains trapped in this tomb chosen by a boy of plight one who found himself consumed by the notion of midnight and the shadows of our doom he cast a midnight shadow or did the shadows cast him along the straight and narrow where he never did fit in his voice drew hoarse and heavy through the sentiments of sin he knew he was not ready but that it would soon begin there on the day he faltered beyond scope of all amends the path forever altered would not cut this way again strike at the heart of midnight this eternal nom de plume exceed the limits of the light that remains trapped in this tomb chosen by a boy of plight one who found himself consumed by the notion of midnight and the shadows of our doom he cast a midnight shadow or did the shadows cast him (3/15/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

I know the midnight maven

I saw the world wide open I heard all that was at stake but I arrived here broken knowing not I could still break yet as the words were spoken found them far too much to take as I just sat there frozen in direct path of the wake I saw the world pretending I was anyone but me and came to it suspending everything I had believed for I knew it was ending yes, that much was plain to see still wasn't worth befriending any of the enemy I know the midnight maven I have borne the circumstance striking any safe haven from the cogs controlling chance I saw the world wide open I heard all that was at stake was already in motion and I knew it was too late but as the words were spoken I refused the hands of fate finding I would be broken more so than my current state I know the midnight maven I have borne the circumstance striking any safe haven from the cogs controlling chance I saw the world through lenses I'd no comprehension of recognized differences not knowing what each one was the traumas life dispenses each one beckoning for drugs as if the smoke it cleanses any of the things above I know the midnight maven I have borne the circumstance striking any safe haven from the cogs controlling chance I saw the world wide open I heard all that was at stake but I arrived here broken knowing not I could still break (3/14/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

before the poet (stood a shadow)

before the poet stood a shadow carved from words of rhyme he didn't know it was embattled faded out of time he couldn't show it drove him mad though further that he climbed before the poet stood a shadow carved from words of rhyme the poet lay there shattered at the entrance of the temple he thought he knew what mattered but it never was that simple the shadow held a prism in hopes that he might catch the light but fell within the schism that began spreading from the right and the poet saw the arc the dark trajectory of sin that at one time left its mark upon the poet's fragile skin as the shadow took comfort in the wake of its destruction knowing nothing would now work in these forests of corruption before the poet stood a shadow carved from words of rhyme he didn't know it was embattled faded out of time he couldn't show it drove him mad though further that he climbed before the poet stood a shadow carved from words of rhyme the poet he was empty each time his fullness was needed which is why in the end he'd always be the one defeated the shadow mourned the light that he was long denied the warmth of in the morning he's right back in the same place that he once was before the poet stood a shadow carved from words of rhyme he didn't know it was embattled faded out of time he couldn't show it drove him mad though further that he climbed before the poet stood a shadow carved from words of rhyme the poet lay there shattered at the entrance to the temple he thought he knew what mattered but it never was that simple (3/13/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

shadows fell (penny for the purpose)

shadows fell on midnight and tomorrow was no more inner demons' insight provided full scope and score was on the cusp of blight where so many died before took the pen with its might and fashioned myself a core shadows fell at midnight and so too did the dealer what was left to incite with the world down a healer cut down before twilight no longer a concealer the mask wouldn't fit right became a great revealer penny for the purpose outspending thoughts and prayers look beneath the surface see the few that truly care shadows fell on midnight and yet nothing was the same inner demons' insight gave full measure to the flame pieces were locked in tight a condition of the game here the remnants burn bright based on someone else's claim penny for the purpose outspending thoughts and prayers look beneath the surface see the few that truly care shadows fell at midnight and I nearly fell there too martyrs met to incite for that's just what martyrs do pages that I did write fated for the chosen few found within the spotlight showed just how much was left due penny for the purpose outspending thoughts and prayers look beneath the surface see the few that truly care shadows fell on midnight and tomorrow was no more inner demons' insight provided full scope and score (3/11/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

no shells (war machine)

no shells we wage, we war no shells the cage, the core no shells we siege, we sigh no shells the day we die no shells we scrape, we score no shells the weight of war no shells we fight, we fill no shells the night, the kill this war machine comes to fruition we are the rounds its ammunition no shells we aim, we arm no shells the game, the harm no shells we turn the tide no shells the burn, the bride no shells we call, we close no shells we fall for those no shells the light, the loss no shells we cite the costs this war machine comes to fruition we are the rounds its ammunition no shells we wage, we war no shells the cage, the core no shells we siege, we sigh no shells the day we die (3/10/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

clearance rack

label on the tag says righteous hanging on the clearance rack but it fits like it's in crisis tight around the chest and back trinity of expiation got the kid, his dad and ghost divinity's indignation claiming that one size fits most label on the tag's misleading it was never as it claimed set the whole damn world to bleeding and it was all in its name a policy of no returns they claim all sales are final they sit back and just watch us burn you can buy it now on vinyl and the clock reset at midnight 'fore the day became the next apostles of such appetites penning over sacred texts label on the tag has faded like the meaning before it and it's viewed as overrated easier to ignore it trinity of expiation got the dad, the ghost and kid divinity's consternation accepting all the things you did and the clock reset at midnight 'fore the day became the next apostles of such appetites penning over sacred texts change the orders of wrong and right so that only one reflects and the clock reset at midnight as did that which it projects label on the tag says righteous hanging on the clearance rack but it fits like it's in crisis tight around the chest and back (3/9/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

feast or famine

it's feast or famine a beast imagined now look to the one the least examined increase in rations deep satisfaction now add up the sums release the Kraken it's feast or famine a beast we fashion but here we make more yes, peace can happen we've got to captain police the actions fed into the core we lease distractions we dine on kings here bow to no crowns let's eat the rich, dear they'll trickle down it's feast or famine a beast of passion a burden once but we ceased that caption decreasing traction oblique infractions once more, add it up release the Kraken we dine on kings here we court no crowns couldn't be more clear they'll cut us down it's feast or famine a beast imagined to settle old scores the thief and mammon the chief attraction in pieces trapped them and just like before release the Kraken we dine on kings here bow to no crowns let's eat the rich, dear they'll trickle down (3/6/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

jealous zealot

it's performative hate that political bait which you relish and right out of the gate see you altering states are you jealous you seem jealous yeah, you're green with envy and also with greed you are the enemy that's making us bleed yes, we are the many empowered by deed we won't be so friendly this ground we won't cede rearrangement of fate far too shit to be great overzealous and it's now a bit late to try and set things straight jealous zealot jealous zealot yeah, you're green with envy and also with greed you are the enemy poisoning the feed but we are the many yes, we are the key and this feeding frenzy is coming for thee it's performative hate that political bait which you relish and right out of the gate see you altering states are you jealous you seem jealous yeah, you're green with envy and also with greed you are the enemy they warned you would be but we are the many and you would be king though we haven't any use for those kinds of things rearrangement of fate far too shit to be great overzealous and it's now a bit late to try and set things straight jealous zealot jealous zealot yeah, you're green with envy and also with greed you are the enemy that's making us bleed (2/28/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

the demon's resurrection (through the strength of the pen)

the demon's resurrection purports the end of days compass with no direction how will I make my way through fields of stark infections all life in disarray there's no net of protection there is only dismay you strike me with the sword to break me where I bend luckily I was forged through the strength of the pen the demon's resurrection foretells of a collapse the past is in collections the future off the tracks through fields of imperfections I will not make it back setting for course corrections forget my judgment lapsed you strike me with the sword to break me where I bend luckily I was forged through the strength of the pen the demon's resurrection highlighting the condemned compass with no direction no way to make amends through fields of introspection justified by the ends caught hints of my reflection saw more than just the trends you strike me with the sword to break me where I bend luckily I was forged through the strength of the pen the demon's resurrection purports the end of days the past is in collections the future's pay to play (2/26/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

light at midnight

yes, I swear I saw a light at midnight it was painted there across the sky the colors they all churned and they burned bright never gave any explanation why was like I waved Van Gogh's brush at twilight it happened right there before my eye yes, I swear I saw the light at midnight but I'm scared now it could have been a lie I'm writing a letter to Dear Abbie Mr. Hoffman I stole this one for you born into this world to love madly was this purpose that was turning the screw it was then that I knew that they had me it was nearly all that I could believe writing a letter to Dear Abbie coming at you with my heart on my sleeve but I swear I saw a light at midnight it filled every inch of the night sky the colors they all churned and they burned bright as the furies gently whispered good-bye just a pauper of pedantic insights paying pandemic plagues for a try but I swear I saw the light at midnight hanging overhead bidding me to fly I'm writing a letter to Dear Abbie Dr. Hofman I dropped this hit for you born into this world that went badly as such ill-fated plans so often do it was here when I knew that they had me it was clearly how this was set to end writing a letter to Dear Abbie everything always ends up at the pen so just give me that old light at midnight and I'll know that it signals good-bye the colors will all churn and they'll burn bright and I'll hold them all in my arms and cry as I bow to the titans of twilight I witness the sins of the most high so just give me the old light at midnight as I lay me down to finally die I'm writing a letter to Dear Abbie Mr. Hoffman I stole this one for you born into this world to love madly as the mad are so often prone to do (2/23/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

running with fascists

blood drips upon the roses the garden's ground is red this ending presupposes the dream has long been dead blood runs between the feathers symbols set for rebrand we're all in this together the blood is on our hands the next step is uncertain but it involves drawing lines only way things keep workin' in unprecedented times blood drips upon the pages the tome is now stained red as freedom disengages the hateful being fed blood runs from every corner bid boldly without clue and unlike our proud former now these colors do too the next step is uncertain but we all must be resigned to stop people from hurtin' through unprecedented crimes blood drips upon the nation the fabric turning red dastardly machinations trickle down now instead blood runs between articles and amendments to boot infecting each particle everything taking root the next step is uncertain but it involves drawing lines only way things keep workin' in unprecedented times blood drips upon the cowards already draped in red for oligarchs empowered the dream has long been dead blood runs from every corner bid boldly without clue and unlike our proud former now these colors do too (2/19/25)

[theperplexedpoet]

tears for Calliope

I cannot hear the muses their rhythms or their sway their influence refuses to be felt here today but I can hear them crying for all that we have lost for all that is now dying and all this hate will cost I cannot hear the muses their rhythms nor their songs the silence disabuses beliefs held all along but I can hear them weeping for all we could have been for what we will be reaping when this harvest begins cry now for Calliope let each tear speak its rite wasn't what was meant to be at the break of daylight I cannot hear the muses their rhythms or their words their influence refuses on this day to be heard but I can hear them sobbing for seeds we've yet to see the future they are robbing taken from you and me cry now for Calliope let each tear speak its rite pray for what society abandons out of spite I cannot hear the muses their rhythms nor their rhymes the silence disabuses beliefs built over time but I can hear them crying for all the dreams that were for trouble's multiplying with no time to confer cry now for Calliope let each tear speak its rite wasn't what was meant to be at the break of daylight I cannot hear the muses their rhythms or their sway their influence refuses to be felt here today (2/18/25)