Adrift in the Meme Pool
Drowning in a sea,
Sensory overload.
Memetic life raft,
A plausible explanation
In an ever increasingly
Confusing world filled with
Seemingly sophisticated
Mammals in suits,
Driven at the core
By their animalistic desires
To fight, flight, food…
Oh, and fuck.
An ever-tightening
Necktie of fear,
Threatens these somewhat
Stone Age instincts,
Not necessarily necessary
For our (also) programmed goals.
Floating through life,
On a kayak sans oars,
Letting the ripples of the current
Dictate our decisions.
A coincidentally meant-to-be
Selfishly replicating virus
Of mind pollution.
Altruism, distinction,
Acceptance, and obedience
Fuels our intrinsic needs.
The mind exists
Because nature needed it to,
So grab the fucking paddles
And race upstream.
Persistence
Every answer in reach,
The wrong answer.
Emotional wading pool
Sifted through with a life raft,
I only want to do what’s right.
Your assumptions leave me
Gasping for air, when my feet
Are already touching the floor.
I only want to do what’s right,
But everything seems to be
Just out of reach.
I want to make everything perfect
In a world that’s subject to error.
You’re right next to me
But I see you’re disconnected,
Don’t let me make these choices,
It’s not what I’m trying to do.
I’ve been treading for hours,
And I’ll continue to stay afloat.
Untitled
Radiant lily
Falling victim
To conditions
Independent of her being.
Increasingly aware,
She begins to unearth
Her roots, deeply
Entwined in
Uninhabitable soil
Which has long
Infected her flowers.
The mantis standing
Strong at her stems
Preying on her predators,
Only trying to protect her
And uproot her,
To be rejuvenated
And come alive
In the freshest soil
Allowing her to
Beautifully blossom,
As nature intended.
The Moth
Wings kissed
By dirt flavored lips
Of nature, unnoticed
Rather, unideal
To the naked eye
Chameleon to the senses
Captured in the excavation
Fuck the butterfly,
Silk ensnarement
Outweighs the iconic
Flutter, and migration.
We were always different
We were always outcasts
Now is no stranger
Riptide
The waves are coarse,
Somewhat frequent, though
Expected, like a sunrise
Or eventual physical decay.
Jump up right on time
To avoid being pulled under,
Soar gracefully above the crest.
Balance, experience,
Discipline, insight,
Foresight, because
Eventually this wave
Too will crash, and
Roll back against
The shore to melt
Into grains of sand.
Christ-Like Memes
It is quite possible
You have not loved
As I have, turning
The other cheek, to be
Your plastic Jesus,
Tossed upon the hardwood
A broken body, witnessing
The parting of the seas.
Thou shalt not trespass
Against us, instead peer
Into the damp soul of silence;
Driving slow nails,
Pounded into hands
Which suffer
Under quiet ridicule.
There’s a difficult and painful
Lesson to be learned for Judas,
And who else could see
The bigger picture?
Another fractal
Of emptiness, captured
In cowardly spitefulness.
Betrayal is in the cards,
Stemming not from hate,
I can see you suffering.
You can watch me
Hang here on the cross,
Blood dripping down
My scalp from this
Crown of thorns,
It was you put me here,
But I’ll still love you,
Unconditionally.
a swift series of check outs [possibly pertaining to the Moon’s gravitational effect on the tides]
You may see one thing,
But upon gazing
At my own reflection,
I’ve got a very different
Picture painted.
An egotistical bastard
Stares into the mirror
At a self-loathing coward.
You see a hyper-constructed
Image of my parts, augmented
From its creator’s ideals,
Strangled by an infrequent demon,
An infectious meme,
The puppeteer of my innards,
Captain of my will.
The soft shield of love,
That will adapt to combat
The ever-evolving blow,
Always three steps
Ahead of its predator,
Careful to avoid
A fatal chokehold,
Wounding beyond repair.
Digits speckling in the light,
Adorned with intrusive diamonds,
Cracking open the flesh.
A bastard cinderella,
Mop flailing across
A stain so persistent,
Resistant perpetuating infection.
A requiem, catered by
A deteriorating immunity,
Frozen in time.
In the most painful moments,
The tortoise will always
Win the race.
This is vulnerability,
Alternate planes wrinkled
Deep into the pockets
Of subatomic particles,
Constantly dictating
Unsuspecting vehicles.
A pile of deaf ears
Tossed upon Freudian ideals,
Recycled games,
In which we make
Diamonds explode,
To live under our skin.
Familiar
The familiar sting
Of words woven
Into curses,
Maybe it’s time
To sew my mouth shut,
To avoid the needle
From materializing
This careless thread.
Untitled
in my sweatiest nightmares,
disease slithers its way into free will,
fungi plunged deep
in comfort-seeking caverns.
keep the jar opener,
keep the bank account,
keep the accountable numbness
of doormat security
at the expense
of vulnerable expulsion.
what’s important
doesn’t matter,
and what matters
isn’t important.
psychopaths breed
psychopaths,
and then matter implodes
upon itself.
