Sleep deprivation Unconsciousness starvation That is my libation In this capitalist nation I sit at this workstation Solving complications Designing my creations For under-appreciations So I pivot to recreation With the expectation Of mental elevation Of finding inspiration But much to my frustration A victim of manipulation And sociopathic exploitation I learn my limitation My thoughts reach congregation To unhealthy, sad obsession Of rebellious elimination And dragon execution Fortunes without taxation Raping vegetation Privacy violation Total domination Old slaves, new plantation Excess waste met with celebration Public displays of discrimination Kill people, pay the corporation Destroy all regulation Ignore the radiation Shallow words of conservation Performative participation Masked representation Of diverting investigation Distorting examination Falsifying information ‘For the children,’ their declaration While sowing indoctrination Abominating civilization Calling it innovation I reach for ammunition Prepare for liberation Seek out their termination Much to my degradation In my self assassination I made the estimation Blood is not my destination So began my transformation Letting go of the perpetuation Of self-induced isolation Reducing confrontation Let go of my reservations Begin my emancipation With meditation Eliminating temptation Ego naked, sans-humiliation I harness my fixation On reconciliation And consolation For my close affiliation Continue meditation Breathe through fluctuation Float in my constellation Rethink my habitation Focus on adoration And reparation Moderation Unification The land of anger, we’re in emigration Without hesitation With full dedication Ceasing hate’s confrontation Honesty, our vocation Love, our vibration Theresa, our imitation Lifting others, our intoxication Open hearts, our retaliation Our opinions meet annihilation Our connection is rejuvenation Our reformation meets ovation From suffocation to jubilation Disassociation to unification Malformation to augmentation Love kindling to conflagration
Do you normally dislike poetry? Me too! It turns out, I like writing it, but I cringe at the thought of the stereotypical puffy culture surrounding it. If I want to smell my own farts all day, I stuff my belly with garlic and onions, thank you very much.
Anyway, if you want more poetry without all the stuffy pseudo-intellectual silliness attached, subscribe to my newsletter below. Unsubscribe at anytime. I respect your time by respecting mine. I don’t send frivolous bullshit.
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Why do you do this to me, Ian...
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...alright, well, I'll leave it up to you.
Like this nav? It does what every marketing-oriented web designer will tell you not to do: shove as many things in your face as I can!
