Xenologue 4.2: Poetry

I hereby copy write anything and everything that I post/ write past this point. Unless otherwise indicated, it is all original work done by me, either here or in the past.

12/9/2013
I Hate
I hate feeling like a faliure
I hate feeling like I'm letting everyone down
I hate feeling like I should be better
I hate knowing that the only way to get better, sometimes, is to fail
I hate feeling that failure cannot be an option
I hate feeling that I'm a burden
I hate feeling feeling that everything I'm doing is wrong
I hate knowing that some of what I'm doing is right
I hate feeling afraid
I hate feeling nervous
I hate feeling so trapped, so confined, so utterly chained that I'm not who I am
I hate knowing that I can be more than this
I hate feeling that I should have been better prepared
I hate feeling that I could have never prepared enough
I hate feeling that any triumphs give false hope, one-step-forwards-two-steps-back
I hate knowing that I cannot know how I will do until I do it,
and
I love knowing that recognizing and reconciling with what I hate will help me become the kind of person I want to be.


8/9/2013
Longing
How can I express to you my
longing?
How can I possibly
put into words
that feeling I carry, that wish
that hope
that desire
that need?
How can I express
when I can't explain?
How do I transcend beyond
words? Beyond
language? Beyond
this small audio prison
that binds
and holds
and traps inside
all.
How can I express my longing,
when I simply long to express?


The Billbabble Bird
The Billbabble Bird sat on a rock,
and it never moved, nor gave thought to talk,
for it was content, where't had always been--
where it knew its place, knew how to begin--
when suddenly, out of the sky to the right
came a thing, a blimp, made out of light,
and sitting right there, serenly and calm
was the man of the hour, the man we'll call Tom.
 "Now come on," he said, "let's go for a ride.
And don't be bogged down, don't refuse from pride.
Don't say that you're perfect, don't say that you're good;
just say that you're nothing, except for a could."

The Billbabble Bird knew where he belonged,
and so he felt angry, and so he felt wronged.
He marched to the train, drew himself up,
and started a speech, but then all went flup!
For up went the blimp, it flew at high speed,
for it didn't care about law or a creed.
It knew what it wanted, knew where to go,
where was the problem if it didn't go slow?
It said to the Bird as it zoomed right away,
"Please listen, Billbabble, to all that I say.
Don't say that you're perfect, don't say that you're good;
just say that you're nothing, except for a could."

And so they moved on just to explore the world,
they wanted to find what made it all swirled.
And boy, the whole way, the Billbabble cried
for he found, right deep down, he was changing inside.
He knew not his place, nor where to belong,
or if he was short or, maybe, too long,
All that he knew was his rock was too small
and that, had he stayed, he'd be nothing at all.
But as time went on, Billbabble found hope
that helped pull him up like a bit of old rope.
And now when you see him, dear child, stay still,
Just listen and you'll hear him say, oh you will,
"I know I'm not perfect, though I hope to be good;
I know that I'm nothing, except for a could."


11/12/2013
Athena
As we worked upon the tables that were strewn across the floor,
we then heard the silent screaming from the ghoul at the door.
"Why forsake your friends?" It asked us from its open-closing perch,
"why, because you ran you left them, boys, and they were in a lurch.
Now they're dead or could be dying as you sit here growing thin,
you all fought against the madness, but alone you cannot win."

"What is your name, good old specter," are the words that we then cried,
"Is your form of one who's coming, or are you someone who's died?"
At this speech it gave a cackle and dissolved into the wall,
which to my dear eyes extended and then turned into a hall.

"That you ask that simple question means your fate is all but fixed,
all your options are expended, all your assets have been nixed,
so now enter to your doom, men, I am past and future too,
for I am your command captain, mother-father, rigaroo."

So we entered by commandment, not a one did not look back
as we pondered on our actions, on the qualities we lack.
Now we look back at that time with certain tears inside our eyes,
for our hopes and fears have left us, nay we left them to the flies;
so please heed my words of wisdom, good great people of the world,
do not make yourself a traitor for redemption's hard and twirled.