Poetry of an Aloof Junior by Z.M.G. (old books to read txt) 📕

Table of Contents

I. Dark Poetry - Quatrain - p.6
II. Romantic Poetry - Quatrain - p.49
III. Nature Poetry - Quatrain - p.67
IV. Haiku - p.73
V. Lullaby - p.84

Dark Poetry

“A Descent”

It is all of which has transpired,
That has left me so duefully tired,
From all that I have recent inquired,
In attempt to seek what is desired.

And as the sands continually sift,
The clockhands endlessly tick,
I find a deepening inner rift,
A small abyss of mind made sick.

Then as the thoughts fall into the nothing place,
Feelings drift into dreadful disgrace,
A tear shorn in bloody trace,
So action may leak in fresco face.

Exhales, a sigh of breath,
Footsteps, a few faint treads,
And so acts borne look of death,
Unto daylight’s darkest dreads.

For naught hides in the summit bright,
A waning feeling of fathomed fright,
A waxing of those contrite,
And questing for the timeless night.

An eye – faint – unshades,
Colored blue, green, and gray,
See his flee from that forbade:
The passion granted of purest day.

And there does linger a sorrow
Of that here today, gone tomorrow,
Of forever wishing that he may borrow,
The gracious god they all hallow.

But, yes, it’s a diminutive dream,
A pervadingly pernicious plea,
Which derives a tearful stream,
In recognition of his turmoiled sea.

But, alas, the sensation decants,
And he is left simply sycophant,
Tortured by his chiding chant,
And though he tries, he may ever shan’t.

So as Love fails, he falls,
Then as time lists, he lies,
And as Love sounds, he calls,
That when Love crowns, he cries.

"Damnation"

They know I’m bi – they think that’s gay – so I’m damned.
I’m skinny and long-haired – they say that’s hippie – so I’m damned.
I like to pose and sing – men think that’s girly – and so they damn.
I prefer to talk than fight – men say that’s weak – and so they damn.
My family knows so little – they wish they didn’t – they too would damn.
Family also says I’m lazy – I do so much – they too would damn.
I fall in love with girls – females think I’m silly – what damns?
But I really like guys – females think THAT’S sexy – this damns.
And so I simply ask, “Why damn me?”
Already divined from a damnable existence
Driven through a dread life of damnation
So why?...
Why?
There’s no purpose.
No gain.
There’s no art.
No beauty.
Yet I suppose such should be expected.
After all, we already “live in Hell.”
I guess damnation suits.
Maybe it’s really just a quest to get to the highest level.
Heh…
Ironic, isn’t it?
That people would curse upon others damnation.
Others already damned.
Ha. Human damnation…so purposeless…
Yet still so painful…

"Devastation of Doubt"

It is one of those…unseen powers,
That – granted – doesn’t readily show,
Yet, when unleashed, we cower,
For it is a disease of the so-called “Unknown”.

And here, of course, explanation must be given,
As the “Unknown” construct isn’t easily defined,
So from our “Known” haven, comes our best description,
“Those we know to which we are unconfined.”

Herein lies irony of a great sort,
I mean, in relation to our “Known” – so secure,
That which provides us great comfort,
Should tantalize us with so lucid a lure.

And, thus, the question is proposed,
“How is that – in life well protected –
Our very existence rapidly corrodes?”
The answer is a lack of circumspect.

It begins in our readiness to cling to the “Known”,
Which sprouts our failure to recognize,
The possible benefits of the UN-known,
In this our imminent destruction lies.

For we do not allow ourselves a trained thought,
And in such overlook the true sacrifice,
Perhaps the panacea we’ve long sought?
Yet – for now, I suppose – current medicine must suffice.

But, THESE are the words of ages long forgotten,
In an era when society may fritter and shout,
When life has become lowly and downtrodden,
Is – quite truly – the Devastation of Doubt.

"Dream Visions"

What dreams, what visions,
Such vivid premonitions,
Dark, dank nightmares,
Bright, heavenly stairs.

They sow sadness,
They make madness,
They give gladness,
They aid avarice.

Granting these magic sights,
Of those gilded, glinting flights,
That lead into deep lusting terror,
Looking all and naught the fairer.

They feed fear,
They seed sneer,
They lead leer,
They cheat cheer.

Swirling endlessly in that mystic pool,
Teeming with life and unrule,
For here it is all unbound,
For here sky is ground.

Oh, the simplicity,
Oh, the duplicity,
Oh, the felicity,
Oh, the rem’niscity.

And all this fantasy fractured,
And all this reality captured,
Now, I’m slipping, slipping,
There’s that Insanity I’m gripping.

But I’m losing, I can’t!
You don’t understand!
I’m really cracked!
These views are whacked!

And I can’t hold on!
This realm, I’m all alone!
But what’s done is done!
There’s that tone…

…But what is it...?

Oh…

It’s that scream of mine…
Calling to that soul of thine…
Never making it though…
Too busy bracing this cold…

But, it’s okay, it’s alright,
I’ll last in this dark’ning night.

After all I’ve got these decisions,
Where do I lay these incisions?
I must have some serious derision,
But that’s all fine…
So long I’ve my wondrous dream visions…

"Enigma"

I’m just some grand façade,
All you see is a mere mirage,
Lies, glamours, deceit,
Am I really so elite?

I’m so sick of this charlatan charade,
So malaised by my own masquerade,
Plagued with a practiced parade,
Tired of the tremulous tirade…

It’s not my deepest desire,
To come off as an unfeeling liar,
Or to seem that I conspire,
I’m just lost in my rupturous fire…

Think I’m beyond salvation,
Caught somewhere in deep damnation,
Want to cover me in lovely laceration,
Maybe it’ll exorcise this ailed abomination…

Perhaps, I’m just a demonic face,
Another sinful slut of this human race,
I’ve no glorious, God-given grace,
Guess I’m not so different in this place…

It’s ironic how I try to reveal,
Yet succeed only to conceal,
Must run in some hidden allele,
Am I really so surreal?

Wonder, do they see me suffocating?
Do they care I’m rotting, decaying?
Can they feel my cracks breaking?
Or is it all just too sedating?

Guess it could be my emotional inhibition,
Or maybe my moral superstition,
Believing I’m on some Power-given mission,
Stuck in my realm of supposition…

Could I maybe just exile?
Go to some land of sorrow so vile?
And I’ve tried and tried to reconcile,
But, God, I must be quite guile…

Now, I simply can’t cry those tears,
Or scream out those inner fears,
Can’t grin those inner cheers,
Merely internalize those painful sears…

It’s not at all what I seek,
I try and beg and plead to be meek,
But I’m cursed with this marionette mystique,
That brings them or me to fatal weak…

My dreams were not of all this deception,
I promise it’s only a misconception,
Sincerely satiated with my stigma,
Enervated and exhausted, I am the Enigma…

"Fade Out"

I hate this world I’m in,
Filling me and them with sin,
Permeating the air we breathe,
All just to relieve or seethe.

It’s just a world full of lies,
Of people hoping someone dies,
Of waiting for the blade to descend,
In hopes of a future amend.

Where everything feeds on cruelty,
Voiced through some manner of foolery,
Which then cast to us to demonstrate,
In destructive methods, reverberate.

But it’s filling me slow and deep,
It’s sweet, delicious, and complete,
But I don’t want it, I’m afraid,
Don’t want this chaotic serenade.

But here I freeze being nursed,
Seeing all these bodies hearsed,
And I remember the hate and fear,
Inspired by the sneering leers.

A time where I bore witness,
To crime purest and simplest,
The burdenous breaking of Love,
As designed by the dying dove.

But now they string me from the noose,
Giving me a new domain to roost,
In a desperate attempt to decapitate,
A foreseen vengeance to precipitate.

So here I stand to flickering doubt,
But I promise I won’t shout,
Just ensure I’m caught in your rout,
‘Cause I’m fading out, fading out…

"Farewell"

Farewell, brother
I knew thee not.
A prayer of mourn,
I’ll miss thee much.
Rest forever,
Find joy and peace.
Calm thine voice,
You’re in memory.
Fear no longer,
No more chains.
The last grain falls,
That ticks your sleep.
God guide thee,
You’ll hurt no longer.
So long, goodbye,
Maybe we’ll meet.
‘Til then, I love you,
And your words live on.
Fare thee well, my brother,
My tribute to you.
Fare thee well.

"Gun Me Down"

Now! Gun me down,
Love that sound!
See that blood all on the ground!

Feel that pain,
Make me sane!
Watch all of that life go down the drain!

Fill me up,
Pour me out,
Make sure I fall to your bladed doubt!

I want more,
Bring that sore,
Throw me into that deadly pour!

Hear my cry,
Why-why-why?
Can’t you simply just make me die?

Just make me fall,
No more call,
Don’t worry now, I won’t stall.

So, please now.
Gem my crown!
Just please, please, please, gun me down!

"Hate's Rhyme"

The moon hovers in the night sky,
Its beams dancing on the ground below,
Rain falls from Heaven’s high,
Suddenly, a howl of sorrow.

Follow the sound,
Feel the pain,
Lakes fill the ground,
From the falling rain.

See him now,
This creature of night,
Miserable from his fresh-broken vow,
The river of tears blurring his sight.

His love, lost to time forever,
Next to him, a soft whimper of fear,
Ties so strong, sever,
Soft sobs, as he pulls his child near.

His world stripped of dreams,
Because of this sick’ning crime,
Heart tearing at the seams,
And so begins Hate’s Rhyme.

"Hell's Purge"

Dominions of Hell in me unleash,
A venom and demon I can’t reach,
So instead revile in rampage,
And the monsters within enrage, enrage!

Release your wrath on corrupted Earth!
Display the demonic ire-birth,
Realize into the world a dark purge,
Immerse the light in hellion scourge.

Succumb this world to an eclipse of fear,
In their minds a memory forever sear,
A legacy for aeons to be told,
Of how powers even dark may scold.

One lone harbinger of light, cloaked in Hell,
O what, what do his eyes of flame foretell?
An apocalypse of man? An armageddon of time?
Or a rapture for the millennia of crime?

"Human Mathematics"

In our day an age,
We find something quite strange,
What is though?
Do you know, do you know?

Well, let me tell you then,
As surely we are close friends,
It is what we refer to as math,
Its numbers, and symbols, and graphs.

You speak not, yet your eyes inquire,
So I answer your curiosity’s desire,
“Think on it, is it