Categories

Poetry

Chest Intellectual Puffing by Ian Rand McKenzie

Follow us on social media!

Thoughts and prayers with no remorse
Improv theatre, par for the course
Things are bad and that’s just fine
Empty gestures for the bottom line

Our factories choke your lungs and ooze out slimes
We are here for you in these unprecedented times
We stand with the victims from the evil and maligned
Now that our portfolio has been masked from how we were aligned

We are fixing the symptoms for all that causes woe
Perpetuating a system that we will never show
For we are the architects of all your suffering
Reprieve now available for our profiting!

Being Unnecessarily Mean to Todd

Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

Oh thank god
My name isn't Todd
It would be rather odd
With my flashy sex bod

'Cause a guy named Todd
Is a mopey sad sod
Another boring cod
With a tiny little rod

Oh thank god
I can make fun of Todd
I'm protected in my pod
And honestly, words that rhyme with Todd are not very flattering

Mind boggling! How this whiny little snot used clickbait to grift your time

You know what really grinds my gears?
When you equate my delusions to your fears

“I sometimes get that,” they say
When I get it ten times a day

But it doesn’t stop, no, not there
Because there’s 90 other ways my day is your worst nightmare

She complains when I’m being distant
But I’m not far away, I’m not existent

When you’re getting your house and kids and doctorate
I’ve just figured out how to be physically literate

And when your sprouts turn to hopeful teenagers
I’m lucky to have sorted out all my angers

All these woke people proclaim in public they’re here when it gets tough
So I say hello in DMs, but man their schedule is rough

But hey that’s cool
You got your public virtue

And the people who talk
Repeat their peers
Giving me advice that I’ve practiced for over 10 years

Be frugal
Be mindful
Eat all the right food

Be honest
Be active
Try kundalini in the nude

But if god is psychosis 
Than I am your priest
So why am I starving
While all of you feast?

I am gifted with A Beautiful Mind
Conquered my illness, but cannot find
The comfort they said was possibility
Under a system that says I am free

But systems are a machine
Precise and clean
One size fits all
But ignores the separate, the original

I have the gift
But refuse to grift
So for answers I wait
While I try to innovate

Some kind of size that will fit
On an Earth built on bullshit
Our world is broken, we agree
Yet keep teaching thousands years aged philosophy
So to this, I decree
From disability I am free
Because my disease is but simply
An affliction of poverty

Servants of the Horsemen

I’ve got rhythm
I’ve got class
I’ve got glamour falling out my ass

I piss out sunshine
And curse my melodies
To all my fans, I give the finest herpes 

Murder murder murder
Kill kill kill
I am your systemic shill shill shill

Buy my album
Buy my shirt
Buy my bathwater where I squirt squirt squirt

My civilization, sealed, with a platonic crest
Ruled by boys with objects affixed with lactating breast

We've cast out our halves and all our emotion
Wait, what's causing all of this commotion?

The end is nigh, they say
Surely, their minds are astray

The end is nigh, they say
Yet we live it every day

Look to any shore
Somewhere is War

Another place is a river, full of swimming salmon
Within its horizon, there is also Famine

And in that same short distance
You will find Pestilence

And with opinions in our breath
We exhale our Death

It is the apocalypse that we fear
And it did not start this year

We feared this will be our fate
{DateTime.now} is today's date

It is the apocalypse that we fear
Lo, for millennia, it was always here

Shattered Sarcophagus

I'm synonymous with anonymous
The metropolis like acropolis
My confidence is anomalous
Consciousness a choked esophagus

Their sight a false prominence
An oculus of 'omnipotence'
Peering my precarious propolis
Caring with cursed cognizance

I wipe away their wicked ways
Gauze the gashes grooved by their gaze
Heaving hurls from a harrowing haze
Burrowing backwards from bedrock to a blaze

A quantum leap from slothfulness
To shatter my sarcophagus
To join the exodus
From the necropolis

Shedding wantonness with expedience
A somnolence to predominance
To homologous providence
This is my apophasis far from spotlessness

Performative Masculinity

Pull my teeth out and I will use my claws
Pull my claws and I will bludgeon with my paws
Starve me and I will use my bones
Break my bones and I will use my mind
Break my mind and I will rest in victory

Because you should have just killed me in the first place!

*looks around*

AHHHH!! GAY PEOPLE!!!

*runs away*

The Stone

The stone is unconcerned with its mortality
Does not contemplate frailty

The stone only harms when disturbed
To some that thought is absurd

The stone obeys the waters
And disregards the others

The stone will see it all
Before we rise, after we fall

Praise

When we exalt the dead
We forget all their dread
A human that we laughed, cried and failed with
Soon becomes legend and myth

They reached higher than anyone before
To bring us to heights higher evermore
We sing their name in praise
And make impossible, all their ways

A person full of heart, goodness, and sin
To a person of stature, we could never win
And as we revere and anoint
We missed the whole point

That such reverence and glory
Can be attained in our own story
Whether as duty, as needed, or for recognition
Great deeds are possible within all our cognition

We sing the praise of those that past
Not for their honour, but for possibility vast
Singing the name of a being we cannot attain
Is the continued story of humanity’s pain
And with their doubts, these legends did not wane 
And our mythologizing their name is driving them insane

Hot Water

Who is Earl, and why is he grey?
And why does he turn London into a foggy day?
Why does he roll with that islander lot?
Why does he smell of bergamot?

Who is Jasmine, and why is she green?
Does she blossom just to make a scene?
Is she from Okinawa or Fujian?
Is she mortal, or a goddess of heaven?

Who is Pepper and where does she mint?
Was she a goldsmith banker for a short stint?
Why does she now grow leaves that are cold as ice?
And why do they taste so very nice?

By all these words you must think I mean
That all these leaves are what make me serene
But to you, I must come clean
I always tend to favor my tropical queen

Her throne at risk by this warming Earth, we glean
I don't know how long she'll keep filling me with dopamine
But for now, she's here, giving me a sunny sheen
Of course, I am talking about the little brown coffee bean

Skin

Picking, scratching, endless thinking
Scrolling, tapping, endless sinking
Climbing, clawing, relentless longing
Comparing, staring, pointless glaring

Scrambunctious craggledrops
Sinking down their popscops
Drinking up their whifflemops
Spitting on the glory of Dorgumtops

What gives them the right?
To live with all their might?
They live better than you
That is your plight

Not our machines and guns
And poisoned food giving you runs
Not our silver tongues giving you the impression
That you are not tools for our oppression

Scrambunctious craggledrops
We'll beat them down with laws and cops
Their whimsical ways will stop
All hail the mighty Dorgumtops

Picking, scratching, endless thinking
Scrolling, tapping, endless sinking
Climbing, clawing, relentless longing
Comparing, staring, pointless glaring

Subscribe for More Poetry Puff.

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.

AGHKGH! [email protected]&# OFF POPUP!

Sorry, sorry! I just thought since you've been on this site for longer than average, you might hear me out?

Why do you do this to me, Ian...

Okay, okay, I'll be quick! I have a newsletter to keep you up-to-date on my content and projects. If my stuff tickles your pickle, help us both out by subscribing!

Also, I don't do anything shady or aggressive with your email address. I'll only send you the good stuff and won't share your email with any person/provider that isn't working for me to serve you better.

'Serve me better.' What deliciously vague jargon. Is this where you pretend to be me and you make me respond with a contrived form of consent because you're bold enough to assume this cute little chat interface gimmick is enough to actually get me to sign up?

Ummm... uhhh... ahh... Sign up and get exclusive discounts and early access!!!! Come ooooon! Induced scarcity is fun!


...alright, well, I'll leave it up to you.

Ian's Creations

Enderbook

The social app for Minecrafters. Share creations, follow friends, set up trades, & live chat.

Art & NFTs

Much like the poetry, another vehicle for humor, social commentary, & occasional beauty.

Homicide App

Arbitrary gatekeeping systems like laws, morals, and forceful intervention make murder more difficult than ever. With Homicide.app, murder from the convenience of home!

The Meme Hotline

Serving dad jokes over automated voice and meme text messages via SMS completely toll-free!

Objektiv Digital

Making websites for successful local businesses. The most effective one-man-agency you'll likely ever find.

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!