Chaotic Reality

I write poetry

[zaneshoe01]

Justine?

So constantly unsatisfiedCertain that I am lacking, deprivedUncertain as of whyTo write more, what does it solve?To clarify, to reorder or organize one thoughtsTo finalize, to fufill the human desire to add meaning to the eventTo narrate our own action, give a sense of importanceAnd yet it is removed from the actual living.it is story-telling, myth-makingDust claiming to be a mountainWhen I love…

[zaneshoe01]

Suicidal writing has not yet lead to suicidal action

[zaneshoe01]

Change

What makes a man capable of change?Pain is not enough, man can develop a tolerance to any suffering before he faces his fearFate will do it but outside of the realm of human dictation It is merely done through faithWith it nothing changes while everything changes The paradoxical beauty of the worldThe lingering taste on your tongueIt is there for the taking and yet we, I, reject itAt the end of…

[zaneshoe01]

Lost Home

There’s gotta be somewhere I came from, the nostalgia makes no sense otherwise Constantly this sadness, a sickness in the stomach, as if things are not as they should be Where does this sense of injustice come from? Childish fantasy or reminiscence? Who knows, the same either way Mayhaps I’ll go home one day

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[zaneshoe01]

Bipolar?

To write from mania is a great thing, it is the only way in factWords without the mania mean nothing, more conversationWe have too much conversation already, we waste away with itThey can’t seem to grasp that i desire the maniaIt is what shows me I am still alive, I have retained my independenceI have not cowered my life into routineThey tell me to find a goal and stick with itDo they not see I…

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[zaneshoe01]

Faltering

There just isn’t words for itOnly conflict, half words, half dreamsPurity lost, dark plains aheadAnd no words to sayMaybe it’ll change, nothing else to do than wait

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[zaneshoe01]

Musical Insanity

It all started with the music I see nowIt was the beginning of the end, the initial corruption of the soulIdealism took root, but idealism without formEcstasies and sorrows without shape, without namePassing eccentricities of experience, shameful god bestowing his giftsDamnation is heard better than seenI just wanted the songs to keep goingI wanted the music to matter more, to be more presentAnd…

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[zaneshoe01]

Me

Who am I? I’m a little kid who never grew up A dreamer that’s running out of dreams I’m not exactly a person really, always been disgusted by people But I can love more than they can, I can feel more than they can Arrogance? Sure, arrogance that turns you into an alien is not very worthwhile though I am just different than you are, different than anybody I’ve met so far You think I’d hurt…

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[zaneshoe01]

Jesus Christ

Don’t you see boy Your daddy still have love in his heart, i love you more than the world Daddy is just weak, life is hard baby boy I don’t know what to say I want so badly to take you away from it  But I want you so badly to see all of it too It’ll be best to forget about me somehow I am no father, just a coward with lucky sperm, a loser Run from me my boy, or I may poison you as…

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[zaneshoe01]

Wino Nights

Shut the fuck up With this pitiful urge to write more What the fuck do I have to say? Steal some lines from a song or a book But I’m too lost to fucking write anymore So much for the god damned daily posts Who the fuck did I think I was?Hands aren’t even mine, illuminated by this damned screen Need a typewriter so I can just write in the darkness Maybe I’ll make something worth a shit for…

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[zaneshoe01]

Life I Guess

There’s just not much else to say I’ll just end up going back to the same things Again and again and again I can’t be the hero There are no heroes Smoke in front of a screen and hollow words are my fate Babies everywhere, what did we do so wrong? Innocence crushed The world is not empty, it just doesn’t make sense I’m lost Sorrow is the game, that’s all

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[zaneshoe01]

Saving the World

What is there to do? Of course I want to fix things, I don’t want my son to go through it all But where is the evil to fight, where is the bad guy All I see are babies, babies and babies like grass in the field What is there to do? I wouldn’t hurt my baby, so why would I hurt the others? How can I justify the ways I’ve already hurt them? Babies, and babies and babies

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[zaneshoe01]

Pretend

I’m fucking done with the masks, I just can’t do it anymoreI might just let the next person I see know I want to fucking hurt themYeah baby I’m insane, can’t go to that damn psych ward or they’ll keep me thereYeah, I think of hurting myself, and yeah I’d love to see the worthless fucks pass offI am not a god damned human and don’t intend to be anytime soonFuck it, men are pathetic, weak…

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[zaneshoe01]

Progress

Nobody is worse than the forward thinking, nobody has committed more evilWell intentioned plans devised out of pure naivetyLook at the Soviets, real revolutionaries who created a hell on earthLook at the foreign scandals of the Americans trying to play world policemanLook at the way the mad are treated in America at presentThe progressive empathy has made madness more of a cage than ever…

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[zaneshoe01]

Regrets

What the fuck have I done to myself? The kid hasn’t died yet I hold my cat to my cheek and for a moment am the child again The same warmth, the same love flows through my body Then I turn around and the child is gone I am alone in another room, the same tension in my shoulders The same raging numbness, the same inescapable disappointment The same desire to throw in the towel Where did I…

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[zaneshoe01]

Dust

I sit here and stare at my son trying to put it into words This tiger on my back, this insatiable itch in my soul The love just isn’t enough god damnit It can’t be enough I am nothing special, just obsessed with death Harbinger of the rage, of the emptiness Here to express hollow words to hollow people before I’m forgotten and we’re all dust And yet, and yet, and yet, I write with spite…

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[zaneshoe01]

Short Escape

Caught in my own webs, back to the posturing You’re gonna die You’re gonna die And now I am free of it, back to the world of death Back to the impassioned dullness A contained scream, a dull pulse of anger behind my ears, otherwise empty All I can ask for, sitting with the gods, free of man But what, do I just go off and pop a bullet in my brain? There is nowhere to go from here, I need…

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