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a few poems

Tags: poetry, poem

i'm slightly bored and ~creative hasn't had a lot of posts recently so i guess i'll toss some of my lot in here. here's some of the mediocre stuff i pen up more or less without editing in my off time. i have plenty more of these, but most of them require so much context that it'd be a pain in the dick to post them, so they're not likely to see daylight here any time soon. anyways

(note: now hopefully with less formatting fuck ups, lol.)


quick, general scribbles

scribble, scribble [unfinished]

No, you don’t matter—
you don’t matter, matter, matter…
like a symphony of voices in
the night, their uproarious cacophony
of noise inescapable,
rumbles—shaking. No sleep
to be found, no—you don’t matter…
Sleep is impossible, escape is…
impossible. Draw your mental curtains
in every window and bolt every lock shut—
shut in… shut in with the noise, no you
don’t matter, matter, matter—
Why do you shut yourself in? Why
do you shut yourself inside if you matter?
The voices tremble with fury—but peaceful
they are compared to the noise, echoing, booming—
If you did matter you wouldn’t hide!
You wouldn’t refuse to face the music, oh
if you mattered you’d admit that you’re crazy.
If you mattered the voices wouldn’t be. The
thoughts wouldn’t be. They wouldn’t be, no—
you don’t matter, matter, matter…
some symphony of voices the voices can be—
rattle like a rattle, regurgitating the same sound—
endlessly, on loop. Never enough to deafen the
thoughts, the thoughts never enough to silence
the voices. If you mattered you’d be free
of the voices, you see. Just another crazy
person you are. All alone, you and me...

Bor · der · line

Always, when meeting, be skeptical.
Be cynical, so when the deal falls through
you can pretend you never wanted
what was offered to you in the first place.
Pretend it doesn’t hurt every time
to tear everything down from day one when
you know it’s irrational action—
when you know if you could just be “normal”…
Go through the process a hundred times
over, stay up every night thinking
why it has to always be this way
and why you’re like this, why you’re so crazy—
never change, always an amorphous
blob of a person, never able to
fit into anything, to be what
you truly want to be, deep down. Normal.
Such is the life of an internet
vagabond—a sacrifice to the great
altar of the untreated mental
illness—crucified by their loneliness.


some stuff for my grand worldbuilding

Time (1921) // by Donas Beyten-Aytek

A dragon always cares for time,
for often he knows that it does rhyme.
And always grows up with the fable,
of the dragon that was able.
For ‘once in time’ a dragon ruled,
and ‘once in time’ that dragon fooled.
So ‘once in time’ that dragon lied,
and ‘once in time’ that dragon died.
And now a dragon lives with fears
of the changes time endears,
and hopes that time will one day cease
and leave his life alone in peace.
But no more is it ‘a’ dragon alone,
instead it is all which to fear is prone.
In face of time, no dragon is steady.
In face of eternity, no dragon is ready.

Dragons will not hail to a tyrant (1981) // by Tadin Aledi Geren

Dragons will not hail to a tyrant—
that much must be made clear
and shouted for the world to hear.
For a dragon enslaved and martyred—
on the altar of Bira, their blood spilled—
can never by any man be killed.
Yet dragons long have been enslaved—
by despot, by tyrant, by foreign power—
and it seems always the dragon should cower.
But soon, one day soon, the dragon
will rise from their ashes, from their grave
and find a dragon world to save.

Revolution (2009) // by Nesye Kalane-Aiselain

Revolution means nothing
if you don’t act.
If you don’t let the hillsides ring
with upstart revolutionary zeal
you are no true revolutionary—
you are no better than a tyrant king!
You can’t be a revolutionary
if you never let the proletarians sing.