Living to the fullest

Living in delusion,
Knowing that it’s all an illusion.
Looking for likes and dislikes.
Swiping left and right.
Dreaming tonight, forgetting tomorrow,
Consuming, consuming, consummating.
Liar liar, lying to yourself.
Smiling outside, crumbling inside.
Empty pot, empty pot,
Nothing of content.
Questioning questioning,
When will my life start.
Happy 30th, you passed the start.
Am I dead or alive,
Am I living or pretending?
Am I real, or am I playing?
Dress up, it’s all dress up.
Likes, loves, wows,
Where are my vows to myself?
I’ll be good, I’ll be smart,
I’m not a sucker,
I’ll live for myself.
I don’t care what they think,
I’ll do what’s best for me.
Checked my phone,
Where are my validations?
No one likes me?
Change of hair color and a pose?
Look at me look at me, please.
Still nothing,
Oh God, what’s wrong with me?
Day, night, day, night,
Right, left, right, left,
Consuming, consuming, consummating.
I’ll do better,
Day, night, swiping right…

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Playful

Playing with the dark side
Or being dark and seeing light?
I want to be a bad girl,
I want to draw your eyes.

Perky, smirky, cool and fun,
Collected, smart, logical and gaunt,
Dream and nightmare served in one,
Here I come, my doomed hero.

Generation Lost

There are professors,
Working night and day,
Trying to find out,
Why we lost our way.

They say my mom and dad,
had too much fun,
They spent world’s money
And left me as I stand.

No worries, who cares,
Life-long bank loan in a pocket,
Paper-worth diploma in a hand,
In 30 square-meters palace I roll.

We talkin’ money, gold chains,
We talkin’ toilet rolls,
Foil plated metal bars.
Look at me go.

Research calls us selfish,
I’d love to think world peace.
However, it is me recycling your mess
and I’m made to think about tomorrow’s best.

Try to complain you’re stressed,
If you won’t get called a pussy,
I’d give you one ray of hope,
I have left.

Go fuck your worries away,
National health service will aid,
Back-handed, looking down, they’ll advise:
Preferably eat handed pills and be done.

Xanax in our hands,
Adderall in our mouths,
High performing non-starters,
We burn like litmus on acids.

Cruising with our windows down
In public service.
Joyridin’ ain’t a joy no more,
While we’re cleaning counters and surfaces
With our nerves and noses.

Thinking about ends by night,
Enjoying circus parodies by day,
Dreaming about life in dreams,
Living other’s lives daily.

I’m a suit, I’m an underwood,
Travelling through stargates,
Applying for trips to Mars,
One way anywhere from this farce.

Headphones in our ears,
Fully committed to one-man shows,
We are mother fucking stars.
Tickets always with discounts.

How can you ask us to be simple like you,
When we are the first generation
To get into entry level positions,
requiring 3 years work experience,
While still being in your wombs.

Adagietto

Oh intangible Nymph,
At your smallest wimp,
I would give my all to serve thee.

You’re the only one
That with a lightest of vibrations,
And without a need for any higher attestations
Can get my heart rewinded and going.

All of my sensations are gone or withdrawing
When I hear your calling,
and then I do not care whether
I am alive, or already falling.

With love or spite, or sorrow,
You trace my every step,
Sometimes it seems that without you
There simply cannot be a better tomorrow.

I’m ripping at my hair with extended claws,
Being a forsaken from my birth,
I mistook your fleeting silence
For a lonely return to eternal hollow.

Don’t ever leave me,
May I believe you also need me,
In harmony we must hold hands
When the last notes are tolling.

Forever our sounds will resonate,
For we have been, we are, and we may be.
You, my Nymph, and I, your sad satyr.

“This Modern Love”

this modern love

Separating myself from angry poetry for a day, I would like to catch your interest for at least just a moment.
This will be my very first mentioning of a book, but for that I have very selfish, but also selfless, interest.
“This Modern Love” by Will Darbyshire, that is to be published on 11th of August, is a collective book of love letters, written by people from all over the world. After receiving numerous submissions (namely 15,570), W. Darbyshire has selected letters and photos that cover the sad, fun, unbelievable and (un)forgettable moments of love (from the beginning till the end).
Depending on the background music and drink of your choice, this read may be funny, sad or something in between.
So, if you ever feel like snooping just a little bit, mingling in the love stories of the people of the world, just take this book, and read it.

As for the selfish part, my letter was selected, and is now contained in the pages of “This Modern Love”, and I love that very much.

Kill me or get me off

Well here we go again,
Still drunk from last night’s congress,
I feel fresh energy to hate you.
Middle finger, middle finger up.

If only you weren’t around,
I think I’d start seeing
Visions of pure ecstasy,
No hands, no plush; vibrations of reality.

I get high, I feel frustrated.
How I need a release
From your prudent constant constraining.
Building up, building up
Are my torturous self-ministrations.

Thinking of others, betraying you in thoughts,
I destroy you in mine mind,
With such a release, and what a blinding force.
Tsunami, tsunami fall over me,
Swimming in this pleasure I can finally be.

You, Don Quixote

Don’t you sometimes think that we waste too much time,
and not learn enough about the beauty of life?
What about reading a book, a paper, something good?
All replaced by videos, memes, and ad hooks.

Modern day person is like a Don Quixote,
Fighting windmills of useless postings.
Do I need those shoes, cheap dress, earring hoops?
No, cause they are not worth to have or to lose.

The “New” section of bookstores makes me want to search for noose.
It is all full of 20-something children giving advice on life and foods.
Swiping left, swiping right, getting rid of all that crap,
Searching hard, searching long, I will find the golden word.

Modern Martyr

Labour martyr burning on a money pyre,
He fought bravely for his credit cards.
Riding loaned horses,
He believed in a happy end.

The only free right is to die,
Suffering is a costly burden for the naked king.
Enjoy while Big Brother supplies borrowed joy,
In grey season all you’ll want is that free service.

Race as long as you want,
The same wall awaits all,
Name – Unimportant, who you are – inconsequential,
Credit line in a bank, contact on a phone.