Sunday 6 January 2013

365 Days Poem Challenge Day 06

Are you blind?
Because you seem to miss
My crying, my calling our for help;
My fetal position, my scars that light my wrists;
My saggy eyes from sleepless nights;
My bones showing through because my starving myself.

What if you tried, just once,
To look at me.
To actually look, deep inside me,
To see what I SEE!
TO FEEL WHAT I FEEL!
WOULD YOU LAUGH THEN?!
WOULD YOU STILL TORMENT ME?!

No. No, you wouldn't.

365 Days Poem Challenge: Days 1-5



Day 01
The darkness is transparent,
Cling film that wraps me like a sandwich.

Day 02
My pale white skin
Torn by the rivers of blood
Are caused by the one who
Should have been protecting them.

Day 03
The world of fantasy,
Where I am God.
They believe in my existence
Though I’ve never been seen
Or heard.
They believe in me.

Day 04
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I got out of bed
Because I needed the loo.

Day 05
Please don’t stare.
Please don’t snigger.
Please don’t shout.
Please don’t stand and call me
The word that causes
A fraction of me to disappear.
Because really,
There’s only 1/3 left.

Saturday 5 January 2013

Some piece of crap I typed when I couldn't fall asleep

This is something that has been bothering me the last couple of days. It's not a poem, just a string of thoughts.
I can't seem to write much poetry :/
Also, if you have opinions on this (or on anything) please discuss in the comments or in another post.


We,
Whoever that may be,
Fixate on the question,
“What is the meaning of life?”
As if it is the only question to be asked.
But,
Frankly,
I disagree with the importance given to that question,
Because it’s stupid.
I think it means,
“What is the reason,
“If there is one,
“For livings things to exist?”
Which can only be answered with divinity,
Or an alien experiment.
I propose,
To my fellow Earthians,
That the question should be replaced with,
“Is there a reason to continue living?
“And if so,
“Why?”
I ask this because there seems to be a reason for surviving,
Otherwise why eat, sleep, breathe, shit and fuck?
We like to survive.
Our brains reward us with dopamine and other goodies,
Whenever we succeed at continuing to survive.
But then,
What about suicide?
If the primary objective is survival,
Shouldn’t suicide be blocked in the most fundamental line of coding?
And then,
What about art and film and television and music and books?
Why are we rewarded for creating and appreciating these vanities?
And to go even deeper,
Gambling, video games, drugs and other addictions,
What survival is gained from these fruitless actions?
Someone once said,
“There are no stupid questions
“Only stupid answers,”
I don’t know about that.
All I can hope is that I will continue my life,
Eating, sleeping, breathing, shitting and fucking,
And answer some simpler questions,
Before the end.